Amazon

(continued from page four)

atasha and Godiva had already been introduced and were seated next to Leno when he broke into his Headlines segment. As expected, the spot featured a newspaper photo of Lady G at the premier of Amazon with one breast apparently missing. The headline read "No More Two Hide."

Leno made a few off-color jokes about certain things better coming in pairs, then looked over to Lady G. "It's just binding, right?"

Godiva was clad in black suede. The right side of her chest was flat. She smiled feebly. "Hi."

Leno glanced at Natasha, whose short bleached hair and colorful (fake?) tattoos looked dazzling. "The boob binding. You're the ones who put her up to this, right? Great job. I mean, it looks really . . . flat."

Dr. Olsen poked me. "What's with this insensitive bastard? I thought Joanie told him cancer." I turned to let Joanie handle Dr. Olsen but she'd apparently walked off.

"No," Natasha said, "we had nothing to do with it. Although after spending a full year with boobless women, I'd have to admit, it is very well done."

Leno shrugged. "Even so, I'm still kinda partial to women with." The audience snickered.

"But the costume effect—I mean, it looks better than what we achieved in the film." Natasha turned to Lady G. "Mind if I ask, dear, which wardrobe artist did this for you? I wish we'd had the guy on staff."

"No, no. It was a doctor. A plastic surgeon doctor."

Leno's eyes widened. "A plastic surgeon bound your breast? I thought they were in the business of making them bigger." The audience laughed.

"You don't get it," said Lady G. "Nothing's bound. I'm a Amazon."

I peeked over at Dr. Olsen. He was staring straight ahead, his eyes unblinking.

"Watch it, dear," Leno said. "No free advertising on the air. Now I know you're on Natasha's payroll."

"No, really, I'll show you," Godiva said and then started to unzip her top.

Leno held up hand. "This is network TV, not the Sunset Strip. My apologies if I misinterpreted, but with the appearance at the film's premier and all, I assumed it was a gimmick. No?"

"No. It's gone."

Leno swept his hand down his face. "Oh, man, am I ever sorry. If you had to have surgery for a medical reason, what kind of a dummy does that make me? Please, madam, do accept my sincerest apologies." Leno squinted through the bright lights towards the director. "Hey, Jerry, let's backtrack and start this segment over."

"No, wait," Godiva said. "I ain't sick. I'm healthy and strong. I cut it out to make me more like them lady warriors."

"So you could go shoot a bow and arrow?" Leno asked.

"No, silly. Like, ya know, for female solidity."

"Pardon me?"

"Solaridy." Lady G was acting frustrated. "You know?"

Leno fingered his jutting chin. "No, I'm afraid I don't."

Lady G turned to Natasha. "Do you?"

"Solidarity?" Natasha said in a deep voice.

"Uh-huh. Yeah. That's it."

Natasha tapped Leno's hand. "Jay, I think we're all being tricked into making a fool of you on your very own show. It's obviously fake."

Godiva stamped her foot. "It ain't! I did it for solidity. Just like in your movie." The audience chuckled tentatively. "For showing how like, like we're all sisters together fighting for one cause."

Leno turned back to Natasha. "I'll admit I haven't seen your film yet, but am I missing something? Are you folks somehow advocating breast removal in the name of feminism?"

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Yah sure, Jay, and also that all you powerful men cut off your big you-know-whats to prove you're macho."

Leno contorted his face. "Ooh!," he squeaked in a high-pitched falsetto and then pounded on his chest like Tarzan. "You amazon, me eunuch." This time, the audience roared.

"Stop it," Lady G called out feebly and then looked away. "Why are you making fun of me?" Her breathing became light and rapid and her eyes turned watery.

Leno seemed shaken. "Wait, I thought we were all just kidding around." He looked back and forth between his guests. "No? Do you mean to say, a plastic surgeon really did cut off your"—he stopped—"I mean, transformed you like this in the name of women's rights?"

"Huh? He said it would make me prettier."

"What! Who said that?"

Godiva turned around and pointed to our silhouettes. "Over there. Him behind the curtain. He did it."

The director yelled, "Cut." "No," Leno ordered. "I know this not our usual, Jerry, but let's find out what's going on here."

Dr. Olsen took in a deep breath and stepped forward towards the stage. The camera panned to the wing.

"Good evening, Mr. Leno. My name is Martin J. Olsen, M.D., and I'm a retired professor of aesthetic surgery at Stanford University. Yes, I performed Ms. Godiva's operation." He sounded confident, relieved to be finally offered his chance.

Natasha twisted to face him. "Aesthetic surgery. Does that mean you cut off her breast with no medical indication?"

"Well, yes and no, ma'am. It's a new concept in beauty surgery."

"You mean like female circumcision?" Natasha glared at him. "How could you do something so immoral to such a famous and sexy women? Mutilation is never beautiful." Someone in the audience booed. Leno shot Natasha a stern look of warning.

"Miss Stix," Dr. Olsen said, "it's a serious subject too complex to discuss in a few sentences. The Amazon women were beautiful to each other, if not also to the men around them. Let's just leave it at that for now."

"Oh no, pal, let's not. And especially not if you're trying to associate this shit with my film. Deformity and pain have never been beautiful."

"I think I would know more about that subject than you. Haven't you ever heard of foot binding and corsetry? Pain has gone hand in hand with fashion since the beginning of time."

"And so has rape. Look, if cutting off one was supposed to make her beautiful, why didn't you cut them both off and make her absolutely irresistible? You know what? You acting like you're the new God for women, buddy, but you're really just a misogynist cannibal who needs to have his license lifted." Natasha jumped up to go after him, but Leno grabbed her arm.

Lady G began sobbing and rushed off the set. Leno motioned with his free hand for the cameras to stop filming. The drummer let go with a quick roll and cymbal tap and the lights on the set went dim. Dr. Olsen stomped off the stage and into the parking lot.

Videotaping was delayed thirty minutes while Leno and his top brass conferred. When they started back up again with the show's musical special guest, everybody acted like it was business as usual. A security guard asked us to leave the building.

Dr. Olsen didn't answer his cell phone. Joanie and I drove to her house and waited for eight o'clock (eleven in New York) to see if the segment would air.

We were on the phone to friends in Manhattan, their television tuned to NBC, when at 11:25 the segment began and ran uncut from start to finish, unedited except for Natasha's expletives converted to bleeps.

(conclusion on page six)