The Prodigals Return

(If you haven't been keeping up with our reporters on their European vacation, you might start with the first installment, or at least the most recent. Today's is the last in the series.)

Neither Arnie Tackleman nor Vera Maraschino made any further entries in their travel diary. Zero content from their time in Milan. As the man who paid for their trip, I was keen to find out why, so I made a few calls, and then I summoned them both to the Publisher's Desk at C-O Central. I noticed how they moved their chairs away from each other, and wouldn't make eye contact. There was a story here. I had part of the picture already, and I was determined to learn the rest.

Publisher: Arnie, Vera, good of you to come in.

Vera and Arnie: (Both nodding like scolded puppies.)

Publisher: Can you guess why I've called this meeting?

Vera and Arnie: (Shaking their heads like kids who definitely ate the cookies)

Publisher: Arnie, let me start with you. As you recall, we paid you to go to Milan. Did you go to Milan?

Arnie: Yes.

Publisher: Enjoy yourself, did you?

Arnie: I mean, sure. Yeah. It was great. Mostly.

Publisher: Marvelous. And what about Vera? Did she go to Milan?

Arnie: She did.

Publisher: You stayed in the room we paid for?

Arnie: Um, yes.

Publisher: But you didn't write anything in your journal, your express reason for being there? Any reason why that might be?

Arnie and Vera: (Staring at pictures on opposite walls)

Publisher: Vera, does the name Vellini mean anything to you? Say, Agent Cesti Vellini of the Polizia di Stato?

Vera: (Highly interested in her fingernails)

Publisher: Vera?

Vera: I may have heard it somewhere. I don't know. Names run together.

Publisher: Anything you'd like to tell me?

Vera: No.

Publisher: Arnie? Anything?

Arnie: Nope.

Publisher: I have a couple of police reports here. This one has Vera's name on it, and says "Disorderly Conduct." And this one, with Arnie's mugshot, says "Attempted Theft." Ideas?

Vera: It's not how it sounds.

Publisher: How can that not be how it sounds?

Vera: They were crimes of passion.

Publisher: Care to elucidate?

Arnie and Vera: (Silent as ninjas.)

Publisher: Let's start at the beginning. You got off the train in Milan, and then what? Arnie, you go first.

Arnie: Well, we checked into the hotel room, which was real nice. Had a comfortable couch. I took a nap, and then it was dinnertime, so I asked Vera if she wanted to grab some grub. She looked at me like I was nuts.

Vera: He is nuts.

Publisher: What was the problem?

Vera: If he wants to go out dressed like Steve Irwin, fine. Just make it clear that I don't know you and you don't know me. No, I was not going to "grab some grub" with the Crocodile Hunter.

Publisher: So you didn't go out?

Vera: We did what any sensible people would.

Arnie: We ordered room service, watched a movie, and then got up in the morning and went shopping.

Publisher: And Arnie wasn't opposed to this?

Arnie: I thought I'd turn over a new leaf.

Vera: I was shocked, too, believe me.

Publisher: This wouldn't have anything to do with 94 episodes of Sex and the City?

Arnie: Who's to say.

Publisher: So you went shopping. Where all did you go?

Vera: Everywhere. Prada, Missoni, Armani, Versace, Miu Miu, Cucinelli.

Arnie: And Moschino. I got a nice pair of shoes at Moschino.

Vera: They are nice shoes. Glad somebody pointed them out.

Publisher: Is this the part where Arnie tried to steal something?

Vera: No. We charged it to our cards, like God intended.

Publisher: Dare I ask how much you spent?

Vera: Dare I ask you to mind your effing business?

Publisher: MasterCard must be very proud. What happened next?

Vera: Don't look at me like that.

Arnie: Vera picked outfits for us, and we went down to Navigli for dinner on the canal. I had a glass of wine. She got an aperitivo. We were like people in a movie.

Publisher: And then?

Vera: I said don't look at me like that.

Arnie: This guy at the next table kept staring at us. I was starting to wonder what his deal was.

Vera: Domenico Dolce is not "this guy." You can't use those words in reference to a fashion god.

Arnie: You didn't recognize him either.

Vera: I could't see him from my seat. Wouldn't you be mad if, I don't know, Evel Knievel was sitting behind you, and nobody bothered to point that out?

Arnie: I just thought he was some old guy. He was dressed pretty nice—I did notice that. Anyway, he kept looking over at our table, and then, after not too long, he came over to say ciao.

Vera: Know what this prick said to Domenico Dolce? He said, "Hey bud, what's shakin'?"

Arnie: He liked it. He said, "Not much, man, what's shakin' with you?" I said, "Not much, my dude." He asked if we were American. I said yes. He said, "I don't suppose you do any modeling?" I said, "Yeah, man. All the time." I thought he was making conversation. I didn't know.

Publisher: Don't tell me—

Arnie: He said, "If you're free tomorrow, we could use an extra body for the show." I said, "You're on, bud," and he gave me his card.

Vera: (whispering to herself) "You're on, bud. You're on, bud."

Publisher: And then?

Arnie: I mean, it was Men's Fashion Week. Is that my fault. If it was Regular Fashion Week, Vera would have been up there, for sure.

Vera: I made you. I invented you.

Arnie: I thought she would have liked being at the show. It's a fashion show in Milan, right? And all those good-looking guys. What's to complain about?

Vera: "You're on, bud." Says the man I dragged out of the tar pit.

Arnie: I got you a good seat.

Vera: Yes you did. You got me an excellent seat.

Arnie: So what did I do wrong?

Vera: Aside from, "Hey bud, what's shakin'?" Let me tell you what you did. They put you in the hottest couture in the whole damn world, the kind of clothes that never go into stores, that people dream about wearing, and you walk out like a runaway steamroller, grinning like Chester Goddamn Cheetah.

Arnie: What's wrong with that?

Vera: Never speak to me again.

Arnie: I guess you're not supposed to smile on the runway. Nobody told me.

Vera: Everybody knows that!

Arnie: So she might have thrown her purse at me.

Vera: I did no such thing.

Arnie: Sorry, she might have thrown her handbag.

Vera: There you go. A Fendi sequenned baguette is not a purse.

Arnie: And the police might have gotten involved. They take those fashion shows pretty serious.

Vera: Unlike some people.

Publisher: So that explains why you two are being so awkward with each other.

Vera: Yep. That's the reason.

Arnie: Mm hm. Definitely why. Nothing to do with—

Vera: Shut up, Arnie.

Publisher: You two didn't...

Arnie: All I'm saying is, I don't think Vera hated getting arrested at a fashion show.

Vera: I'll tell you, when he put the cuffs on, I learned something about myself.

Publisher: I...um...huh. Arnie, I have an inkling. Would I be wrong—to guess—that you got caught trying to steal a policeman's uniform?

Arnie: Do you still want us to write about the rest of it?

Vera: Yeah, we could make it real vivid, if you wanted.

Publisher: I think it might be better if you didn't.

Vera: Good call, boss. The rest is pretty hazy, anyway. I'm not sure we know what happened, for sure.