Mary-Kate Olsen Runs Out Of Gas

World’s wackiest twin meets up with a bunch that’s even wackier than her

COVINA, CALIF., JULY 25, 2008 – The opening of Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen’s JAMa Kidz adoption network, originally planned for July 8, had been postponed indefinitely when Mary-Kate’s funeral was scheduled for the same day. The 22-year-old twins were to meet in Glendale Friday evening to work up plans for another launch date. Ashley, who had been interviewing models in Pasadena all day, arranged a dinner meeting with Mary-Kate at 7:30 at the Blue Hen Vietnamese Kitchen. The last thing she’d said to Mary-Kate when they talked on the phone at three o’clock was, “Don’t be late.”

Mary-Kate had spent her day playing with her attack dog, Rusty, and laying in the sun in the back yard of her and Ashley’s Larchmont Village home in Los Angeles and was too exhausted for a meeting. But knowing what would happen if she missed it, she left the house at 6:55 for the boring ten-mile drive to Glendale.

She climbed in her Range Rover and found half a joint in the ashtray and smoked it. She wished she could remember who had given her the joint, because it was better than most of the crap floating around L.A. these days.

The road to Glendale goes through Glendora but doesn’t stop there

As she passed into Glendale, Mary-Kate decided she didn’t care how Ashley would react if she missed the meeting – she wasn’t in the mood for her sister’s bossiness and nitpicking tonight. She’d been staying in their L.A. home since Tuesday night, and her Ashley-tolerance was nearly bottomed-out.

So she drove on through Glendale, right past the San Fernando Road exit she was supposed to have taken, and just kept driving. Freedom. Peace. Aloneness, which she always needed after more than 48 hours with her sister. She drove for 25 miles through Pasadena, Monrovia, Duarte, Azusa and Glendora. When the freeway curved south heading into San Dimas, her Range Rover started sputtering. She looked at the gas gauge. It was on empty.

“Motherfucker!” she said and slapped the steering wheel. She glanced in every direction, looking for a gas station. The next exit coming up was Arrow Hwy., and she took it, and she didn’t see a goddamned thing that even resembled a gas station. “How can there be no fucking gas stations in a place with this many houses and businesses?” she said. She looked to the east. Nothing. So she drove west, where there were all kinds of things, but no gas stations.

The Range Rover died at the corner of Arrow Hwy. and Valley Center Drive. Instinctively, she grabbed her cell. But who would she call? Everybody she knew lived in L.A. or close to it. Usually, she called Ashley when she was in trouble, but Ashley was at the Blue Hen, waiting for Mary-Kate to meet her, and she would be pissed off if Mary-Kate called and told her she’d gone on a joy ride and run out of gas.

“Good,” Ashley would say. “You can just figure it out for yourself. This is what happens when you’re not committed.”

“Fuck,” Mary-Kate said and got out of the vehicle and slammed the door. There were a million cars going up and down Arrow Hwy., but she didn’t want to flag any of them down, because people a lot less famous and pretty than her had been raped and murdered in situations like this. So she walked. Behind her was a Stater Bros. grocery store with the “S” missing on the marquee sign, making the name read “ tater Bros.” The paved sidewalk turned to dirt, and everything she passed was a closed business. Then across the busy street she saw a mobilehome park. The glowing twenty-foot sign said Royal Palms.

Welcome to Royal Palms Mobilehome Park, Covina, California

She crossed the street, figuring she could find somebody there who would take her to a gas station. If they recognized her, she’d tell them there’s a gun in her purse. She wanted to bring Rusty along, but Ashley had flipped out and said there’s no way Mary-Kate could pull off the seeing-eye-dog routine in a Vietnamese restaurant, even though Mary-Kate knew it was totally doable.

She entered the trailer park. It was pretty nice, as far as trailer parks went – the streets were paved and clean, there were a lot of streetlights, there was a big swimming pool and a clubhouse to her left and, true to the name of the park, palm trees everywhere. Sort of like Beverly Hills, only different.

She heard voices and laughter coming from the right, so that’s the direction she went. Out front of the third trailer on the right side of the narrow street, on a little cement patch between two juniper beds, a guy had his palms planted flat on the ground with his knees pressed into his elbows and his feet floating in the air behind him. He was fat. He had a bush of an afro sticking out from under a stained yellow Yamaha cap, but he didn’t appear to be black. A person she couldn’t see said, “What the hell do you call that?” and the guy hovering over the ground said, “Buffalo tripod!”

When the guy saw Mary-Kate, he dropped to his knees and said, “Whoa, are you who I think you are? Hey, you guys – check it out – it’s that chick that used to be on that TV show!”

A voice beyond the edge of the trailer said, “Oh, that tells me a whole lot.”

“My car ran out of gas,” Mary-Kate said.

“No prob,” the fat guy said. “We’ll help you.” He walked around the front corner of the trailer. On a wide redwood porch sat two other guys, one of them about the same age as the contortionist. The other was maybe 12 years old, and he was heavy, but not as heavy as the first guy. Actually they were all heavy. Mary-Kate lived in a world surrounded by fat people, and there was nothing she could do about it.

The kid said, “Are you Mary-Kate Olsen?” He had blonde hair and a squealy voice and sounded about six years younger than he looked.

“Yeah,” Mary-Kate said. “I need some gas. My car ran out over there.” She pointed toward Valley Center.

“I can take you to get some gas,” the older guy on the porch said. “But I gotta wait till my mom gets back with the car.”

“None of you guys have cars?”

“I’m too young to drive,” the boy said.

“Shut up, Stevie, or I’ll hit you,” said the guy Mary-Kate had met in the street. He took off his Yamaha cap and whacked Stevie in the head with it.

“Ouch!” Stevie said. “And don’t call me Stevie!”

Mary-Kate sighed. “Do you other two have names?”

“I’m Doug,” the guy on the porch said. “That’s Fats Pauls.”

“Fats Pauls?” Mary-Kate had remained standing in the street, not sure if she wanted to get any closer.

“Ah, wells, yous guys knows . . .” Fats Pauls said.

She gave Doug a confused look.

“It’s fans clubs language,” he said. “See, the manager here is Johns Burslews. When he was with the famslees back in New Yorks, they called him Jackies Borsleaus. Mainly he directs traffics with his bodyguards, Herbs, and throws Scotties out of the pools.”

Mary-Kate smiled so they wouldn’t think she was hostile.

In a New York accent, Doug said, “Scotties, if Muffins pinches another loafs by the little pools, you’ll’s be out of it for six weeks!” and Steve and Fats Pauls busted up laughing.

Mary-Kate laughed a little, too, mainly to be polite, but also because it was sort of funny that people like Doug and Fats Pauls could actually exist. “I love your hair,” she said to Fats Pauls. “Are you Samoan?”

Fats Pauls is a jolly young Mexican, a jolly young Mexican is he

“Naw, Mexican,” Fats Pauls said.

“You look like a Samoan.”

“I know, but I’m still a Mexican.”

“His dad’s Hot Sauce Dad,” Doug said. “He made this chile one time and put it in a plastic bag, and it burnt a hole right through it.”

“And we gave some of it to Lubino,” Fats Pauls said. “Then Doug suplexed him.”

“Who’s Lubino?” Mary-Kate said.

“Doug’s married girlfriend’s doberman.”

“Plus Paul’s old man is a major Cole Porter fan,” Doug said.

“I like Cole Porter,” Mary-Kate said.

“Do you like black widows?” Fats Pauls said.

Unsure how the two were related, Mary-Kate said, “Not really.”

In a fairly good impression of Fats Pauls, Doug said, “Hey, dad, who’s the greatest songwriter in the world?”

Fats Pauls raised his fist in the air, and in a pretty good impression of a gruff old Mexican man, said, “Cole Porter!”

“Who’s the greatest singer in the world?”

“Cole Porter!”

“Who’s the greatest piano player?”

“Cole Porter!”

“What’s under the front porch?”

“Cole Porter . . . black widow! Shut up, Paul, you’re stupid as whaaaaaat! Why don’t you sit down and eat like a man, not like a doggone caveman!”

All three of the guys cracked up laughing.

“You can come over here and sit down till Doug’s mom gets back, if you want,” Steve said to Mary-Kate.

“You sure it’s safe?”

“Yeah, there’s no black widows under this porch,” Fats Pauls said.

“No, I just meant in general.”

“Yeah, we never attack TV stars.”

Mary-Kate ventured over and sat gingerly on one of the wooden steps a few feet below Steve, who was swinging his foot a few inches from her face.

“Goddamnit, Stevie!” Fats Pauls said. “If you kick her in the face, I’m gonna bust your ass!”

“So how old are you guys?” Mary-Kate said.

Doug said, “I’m seventeen, Paul’s sixteen . . .”

“And Stevie’s eight,” Fats Pauls said.

“I’m not eight, I’m eleven,” Steve said and took a swig from a can of Pepsi. Immediately and with gale force, he blew out a spewing spray of the liquid. “What’s in this!” he yelled and began spitting on the grass by the porch.

“That’s my fucking chaw can!” Fats Pauls said.

“You spit chew in this?” Steve said.

“Well, I don’t just spit on the ground. I got manners. If you got any of that shit on Mary-Kate, I’ll rip you a new set of tits!”

“What’s ‘chaw’?” Mary-Kate said, sliding across the step until her back met the aluminum siding of the trailer.

Fats Pauls removed a green tin of Skoal from his back pocket. “This. Want some?”

“No, thanks. Can I smoke?”

“Sure,” Doug said. He pulled a lighter out of his pocket.

“Did you start smoking?” Fats Pauls asked him.

“No, I keep it for Dar,” Doug said.

“I guess she can’t get Limply to light her cigarettes, that fucked-out asshole. Gotta get the boys in on this!”

Mary-Kate found a cigarette in her purse and let Doug light it for her. She’d never needed a smoke so badly in her life.

Meet Jason, a dude who knows what he wants, even if it don’t want him

A green lowered mini truck barreled up in front of the house. The stereo inside was blasting the song “Just Like Paradise.”

“Turn that shit down!” Fats Pauls shouted at the driver. His shout was louder than the music.

“That’s Jason,” Doug said to Mary-Kate.

“Should that mean something to me?” Mary-Kate said.

“Not yet. You don’t know him.”

“What’s up, dudes?” Jason yelled. He had long brown hair, and from a distance in the shadow of the cab, he sort of looked like Abigail Breslin. “Who’s that?” he said. “Is that Britney Spears?”

“It’s Mary-Kate Olsen,” Doug said. “She ran out of gas. Can you drive her to a gas station?”

Jason leaned an arm on the passenger door and slung back his hair. “Hey, Katie.”

Mary-Kate forced a smile.

Jason said, “After we get gas, wanna go to the mountains?”

“Not really,” Mary-Kate said.

“Fuck it, then.” Jason cranked the stereo back up and drove off.

“What’s his problem?” Mary-Kate said.

“He’s really into girls,” Fats Pauls said.

“You guys aren’t into girls?”

“Yeah, but not like that. And speaking of who, here comes Moss and Stupidbuns.”

Sherry Moss and Irene Steddenbenz, bored and lonely, as usual, on a Friday night

Mary-Kate looked up the street and saw two girls about the same age as Doug and Fats Pauls walking toward the trailer. One had dark-brown hair, feathered, like something out of the 70’s, and wore tight jeans and a Boston T-shirt. The other had short black hair and was a little dumpy in a baggy sweatshirt and khakis.

“What’s the matter, aren’t they playing Journey on the radio tonight?” Fats Pauls yelled at the girls and started laughing.

“Hey, Sherry, hey, Irene,” Steve called out.

“Hey Steve,” the girl in the Boston shirt said. “Paul, shut up, okay? I’m not in the mood.”

The dumpy girl said, “Is that . . . are you Ashley Olsen?”

Mary-Kate said, “Mary-Kate.”

The other girl said, “What are you doing here, with these losers?”

“Hey,” Fats Pauls said, “at least when I lay out by the pool, milk doesn’t curdle in my stomach!”

“Shut up, Paul. You got too much fat for the sun to even reach your stomach!”

“The one with the big mouth, that’s Moss,” Fats Pauls told Mary-Kate. “And the other one is Stupidbunz.”

Steve laughed. So did Doug.

“My name’s Sherry,” said the one Fats Pauls had identified as Moss. “This is Irene. Her last name is . . .” She looked at Fats Pauls and yelled, “Steddenbenz!”

Fats Pauls clamped his hands over his ears and twisted up his face as if somebody had run a flaming knife through his skull.

“Paul, don’t be an ass,” Sherry said as she and Irene walked up on the patio.

“Did you say Standandfuckher?” Fats Pauls said and took the Pepsi chaw can off the porch and spit in it.

“You guys need to grow up,” Irene said. “I love your TV shows,” she said to Mary-Kate. “What are you really doing here? Don’t you live in New York or something?”

“She drove out to meet us,” Fats Pauls said.

Sherry raised her arm as if she was going to strike Fats Pauls, and Fats Pauls raised his own and said, “Five servin’ two, thirty all, my ad, duce-love.”

“Idiot,” Sherry said and dropped her arm.

“Why do you tease her like that?” Mary-Kate asked Fats Pauls.

“I’m just playing. I got nothing agin’ her.”

Sherry and Irene climbed up on the porch and sat as far away as possible from Fats Pauls. Mary-Kate assumed this was a little gang of regulars that hung out all the time, even thought they probably fought all the time, too.

Heeeeere’s Johnny!

Just then a man appeared in the street in front of the trailer. He was about 40 or 45 years old and had one of those macho mustaches that no normal man wore anymore. His button dress shirt was open halfway to his waist, and within a jungle of black chest hair hung several gold chains.

“Hey, Johnny, what’s happening?” Doug said.

“I-I-I-I’m lookin’ for Jeffrey,” Johnny said.

Sherry giggled. Fats Pauls said, “Shut up, Mosstachula!”

“Shut up, Paul, this is a free country. I can laugh if I want!”

Doug said, “What are you looking for Jeffrey for?”

“I-I-I-I’m just lookin’ for Jeffrey,” Johnny repeated, obviously drunk.

“Johnny?” Steve said. “Guess what? Jeff put my bike on the roof by the basketball court.”

Silence all around, then Johnny said, “Jeffrey put your bike on the roof?”

Steve said, “Yeah, when we were up there playing basketball earlier.”

Johnny said, “Jeffrey put your bike on the roof.” He was getting wound.

“It was when we were–”

Johnny went from wound to really wound. “Jeffrey put your bike on the roof?”

“Like I said, we–”

Now Johnny got loud. “Jeffrey put your bike on the roof! I’ll kill the little motherfucker! I’ll slaughter the little bastard!”

To Doug, Mary-Kate whispered, “Who’s Jeffrey?”

“His stepson.”

“Aaah.”

“If there’s one person I hate, it’s Jeffrey,” Johnny said. “Everybody else I like, but Jeffrey I hate. I’d like to take him up in the mountains on a one-way trip, chop him up and put him in a paper bag and roll him down the hill.”

“I think he went that way,” Doug said and pointed, and Johnny thanked him and swaggered off.

“What a weirdo,” Mary-Kate said.

“Johnsies is gonna kill Jeffreys one of these days,” Fats Pauls said.

“Johnsies?” Mary-Kate said.

“Fans clubs language,” Doug said. “Johnsies and Jeffreys. The Johnsies Kills ‘Em and Drags ‘Em Fans Clubs.”

“The conventions is always on Valentine’s Day, cause Johnsies gots a lot of heart,” Fats Pauls said.

Mary-Kate took a breath. “When do you think your mom’ll be back with the car?”

“Shouldn’t be too long. Her and her boyfriend guy . . . person . . . just went to the store.”

Jeannie and Peggy Jo are out walking the dog

Up the street came a woman and a young girl, who was walking a skittish little white dog on a leash.

“That’s Jeansies and her daughter, Peggys Jos,” Doug said to Mary-Kate.

“Fans clubs language, right?”

“Right.”

“Hey, Peggys . . . I mean Peggy Jo,” Fats Pauls said.

Hearing Fats Pauls’ voice, the dog jerked backwards and tried to run off in the opposite direction. “Baby Number Three, you stop that right now, or daddy’s going to make me hang up this leash!” Jeannie said to the animal and took the leash from Peggy Jo.

“Hi Paul,” said Peggy, who looked to be about the same age as Steve.

“Where’s Bradsleys? I mean Brads . . . fuck, I mean Brad.”

Jeannie said, “He’s been in the house since two o’clock. KISS is on TV tonight.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t start till eight,” Doug said.

“Yes, but he didn’t want to take a chance on missing any of it. He’s already in his Pittsburgh Steelers pajamas with his KISS trash can right by the couch, with plenty of french fries and hot Coke to see him through.”

Jeannie and Peggy and Baby Number Three walked on by, and Fats Pauls said, “Brads is Peggys Joes’ brother. Their dad is Dads Studs – he’s the only studs around, and he wears the pants in his famslees.”

Irene giggled.

“Dads is an awesome stud!” Steve said and pumped his fist in the air.

“Studs, Stevie!” Fats Pauls said. “Say it right next time, or I’ll bust your ass!”

“Sorry! Don’t have a cow.”

“He is a cow,” Sherry said.

“Shut up, Moss, or I’ll have Tor throw your ass in the shower then put you out in the sun to cook the eggs in your stomach.”

“Shut up, Paul,” Sherry said.

“Gotta get the boys in on this!” Fats Pauls said.

Oooh, son, it’s Ruth Farmer

A middle-aged woman in curlers and a bathrobe came around the corner of the trailer. She had on two striped socks and no shoes. One of the socks was in a crumple around her ankle. “Oooh, son, have any of you seen Baby?”

“Peggy and Jeannie just walked her off that way,” Mary-Kate said.

“No, son, not that baby. My Baby.”

“Hey, Ruth,” Doug said. “You mean David?”

“Yes, son. I just got to find him.”

“I haven’t seen him since yesterday, when he was working on his carburetor.”

“Oooh, son, if you see him, tell him Ace is on the phone.”

“Ace?”

“Yes, son, from KISS.”

“Oh, right, Ace Frehley,” Fats Pauls said. “We’ll be sure to tell him.”

“Thank you, son. Now I gotta go see Champ and his girlfriend and their new baby, Josha. Do any of you happen to have an extra box of Ko-Post Raisin Burns?”

“You like that stuff?” Sherry said.

“No, but that’s what Josha eats.”

“Josha’s getting to be such a big boy now,” Doug said.

“Yes, and I hope he don’t turn out like his mother,” Ruth said and wandered off down the street.

“Is this a typical night around here?” Mary-Kate said. “I’ve never seen so many weird people in one place since I left home.”

“It’s pretty typical,” Doug said.

“Hey, Doug, let’s do ‘Nicnicville,’ for Mary-Kate,” Fats Pauls said.

“Shut up, Paul,” Sherry said.

“What’s ‘Nicnicville’?” Mary-Kate said and tossed her cigarette through the air into the street, hoping it wouldn’t hit the next nutcase that showed up.

“It’s a song Doug wrote about when Moss had sex with a guy on a bench in an RV park in Utah,” Fats Pauls said. “It goes, ‘Sherry was driving down the road, she had such a heavy load . . .’”

Sherry and Irene hopped off the porch. Pretending not to notice, Fats Pauls said, “Was that an earthquake?”

“Shut up, Paul,” Irene said.

Fats Pauls looked around at the girls. “Oh, you guys just jumped on the ground. Sorry.”

“It was cool meeting you,” Sherry said to Mary-Kate, “even though it had to be when the gorilla was around.”

“Fucked-out asshole,” Fats Pauls grumbled.

“Yeah, really cool,” Irene said.

“It was cool meeting you guys, too,” Mary-Kate said. “Irene – I heard like five different versions of your last name. What’s your real last name?”

Steddenbenz, Stupidbunz, Standandfuckher, Znebneddets, Snubdiputs – what’s the difference?

“Steddenbenz,” Irene said. “It’s German.”

“Znebneddets,” Fats Pauls said. “That’s ‘Steddenbenz’ backwards.”

“Fuckhead,” Irene said. “That’s Paul in any direction.”

“Snubdiputs – that’s Stupidbunz backwards.”

“You’re a retard,” Sherry said, and she and Irene walked out into the street and disappeared. A small, dark-blue car zoomed by. Together, Doug and Fats Pauls sang, “It’s a fag . . . it’s a Barbado.”

Mary-Kate laughed in spite of herself.

Fats Pauls hit Steve on the leg. “Isn’t it past your bed time?”

“No, I can stay out till ten.”

Mary-Kate heard a door shut and then the sound of a garden hose turning on next door. Doug got off the porch and looked. “Willie,” he said.

“What’s he doing?” Fats Pauls said.

“Washing his hair in the backyard.”

“Fucking moron. Anyway, so, Mary-Kate, you said you ran out of gas, but what were you doing way out here in the first place?”

“I was just driving. I was supposed to meet Ashley for dinner, but I just kept driving.”

“From New York?” Steve said.

“From Glendale,” Mary-Kate said.

“Dumbass,” Fats Pauls said to Steve.

“Ashley’s really pretty,” Steve said.

Fats Pauls mocked him: “Ashley’s really pretty. Like you would know. You think Tammy Norrie’s hot.”

“No, I don’t!” Steve said.

“I’m the on who thinks Tammy’s hot,” Doug said.

“Okay, I knew it was one of you. But Ashley is pretty. You guys are both pretty, but why are you always so skinny?”

“I got a lot of problems,” Mary-Kate said and took out another cigarette.

“I do, too, but I’m fat,” Fats Pauls said.

“Yeah, that’s what your problem is,” Steve said.

“You want to have the problem of getting your face smashed on the ground?”

“No.”

“Cause I’ll fucking do it.”

“I said no.”

“Then shut up.”

“Would you really do that to him?” Mary-Kate said to Fats Pauls. “Smash his nose on the ground?”

“Does the pope shit in the woods?”

The car finally arrives, but the insanity goes on

A car pulled into the driveway on the other side of Doug’s trailer.

“There’s my mom and her friend, Joe,” Doug said. “Are you ready to go?”

“Well, I’d like to stay here all night,” Mary-Kate said, “but yeah, I guess I need to get back before Ashley thinks I ran off to Cuba again or something.”

Mary-Kate shook hands with Steve and Fats Pauls and wished Fats Pauls all the luck in the world with whatever he planned to do with the rest of his life. Then she followed Doug around to the driveway, where a woman about 50 years old and a small man about twice that age were getting out of a white Chevrolet.

The old man went, “Hakha, hakha, hakha!” then he sneezed so violently, two wheezing tones blew out of his nose in perfect harmony.

“Joe, easy,” Doug’s mother said.

Joe said, “Huh?”

“I gotta take the car to get some gas,” Doug said.

“We just filled the tank. Who’s your friend?”

“It’s Mary-Kate Olsen. You know, from TV.”

“From Full House? The real Mary-Kate Olsen?”

Mary-Kate said, “Yeah, it’s me, the real–”

Joe went, “Hakha, hakha, hakha!” and the Chevrolet rocked a little bit.

“The real Mary-Kate,” Mary-Kate finished.

“She ran out of gas, and we were waiting for you to get home,” Doug said to his mother.

“We would have been home sooner, but we stopped at Trader Joe’s, and it took forever to find potatoes that looked like they didn’t have germs on them.”

Joe yelled, “I told you – there was no Germans on them potatoes!”

“Joe, sssh,” Doug’s mother said.

Joe said, “Huh?”

“Do you need any money?” Doug’s mother asked Mary-Kate.

“Mom, she’s got money,” Doug said.

“Yes, I guess she does.” She handed Doug the car keys. “Are you coming back to watch David Copperfield?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“He’s going to make the Staples Center disappear. Supposedly Magic Johnson’s going to be inside it.”

“It won’t be as good as Thurston,” Joe barked from where he was standing beneath a nearby avocado tree, inspecting the fruit in the dark. “Thurston sawed the girl in half in Johnstown, Pennsylvania, in 1938. Let’s see Copperfield do that!”

Doug opened the door to let Mary-Kate in the car, got in himself, and they drove out of the trailer park.

All in all, Mary-Kate had a fun time

“You’ve got some interesting friends,” she said when they were on Arrow Hwy.

“Yeah, they’re okay. We’ve all been friends for years. It’s good to have friends.”

“What was all that stuff about fans clubs languages?”

Doug laughed. “Just some stupid shit we made up. It keeps us busy when we got nothing else to do.”

“I think it’s pretty funny. I might start using it around Ashley, just to piss her off. So, what is it – you just put an ‘s’ on the end of everything?”

“Not everything, just most things. There’s a flow. If you practice it, you’ll get it.”

“There’s my car,” Mary-Kate said and pointed at her black Range Rover.

“There’s a gas station two blocks down. I got a can in the back.”

“Thanks. I appreciate this a lot. I want to pay you for your trouble.”

“Bullshit.”

“Okay, then let me pay you for the entertainment.”

“What entertainment?”

“All that shit back there.”

Before Doug could say anything else, an 18-wheeler pulled out of a side street, right into their path. Interestingly, Mary-Kate noticed that it bore the grocery store name Stater Bros., only for some reason the “S” was missing, making it say “ tater Bros.” Doug slammed the brakes, the car spun sideways, Mary-Kate let out a scream, the side of the truck came closer and closer and closer, glass shattered, metal bent, and Mary-Kate . . .

woke up in her Range Rover.

In the driveway of her and Ashley’s Larchmont Village home.

Her heart was slamming in her chest. She gripped the steering wheel, holding on, just in case the collision really was about to happen and she had just blacked out there for a moment. When no collision came, she realized she had blacked out, and not just for a moment. She looked at her watch. It was 7:25. She’d been out for thirty minutes and went to the land of fucking Oz.

Cautiously she drove to Glendale and found Ashley sitting stiff and impatient at a table in the back of the Blue Hen, punching numbers into a calculator.

Mary-Kate’ll take one chaw can, you fucked-out asshole!

“You’re late,” Ashley said, looking up but only with her eyes.

“Don’t starts yellings at mes, or you’lls be out of the pools for six months!” Mary-Kate said.

“What?”

“I said, don’t starts yellings at mes, or I’ll take you on a one-way trips to the mountains and rolls you downs a hills!”

“Mary-Kate!”

“Sssh, watch this.” Mary-Kate got down on the floor and assumed the buffalo tripod position. People all over the restaurant were staring at her. Ashley was on the verge of tears, or hysterics, which for Ashley were basically the same things. Satisfied, Mary-Kate got up and sat down in a chair.

A waiter came over. “Is everything all right, ladies?”

“Oh, sure it’s all just peachy,” Ashley said, too loudly. “We’re just grooving along on controlled substances, waiting for the next crash–”

“With a tater Bros. truck,” Mary-Kate interjected.

“–waiting for the next crash, which I’m predicting will happen before the weekend’s over.”

The waiter said, “Uh, would you please to order now?”

Ashley said, “I can’t eat. Just bring the check.”

Mary-Kate looked at the menu. “Do you guys have any chaw cans?”

“Oh, my God!” Ashley said.

“Chaw cans?” the waiter said.

“Yeah, you know . . .” Mary-Kate spit into a water glass, and Ashley covered her eyes.

“I’m sorry, but we have no chaw cans,” the waiter said.

“No chaw cans? Gotta get the boys in on this, you fucked-out asshole.”

Dumbfounded but determined, the waiter said, “We have nice rice noodle salad with organic chicken or tofu tonight.”

Mary-Kate just sat there, staring at a fly buzzing around Ashley’s head.

“You not like noodle salad?” the waiter said.

Mary-Kate shrugged. “I got nothing agin’ it.”

“I’m sorry, I not understand.”

“Forget it, it’s no big deal,” Mary-Kate said. “Just bring me a bowl of Ko-Post Raisin Burns.” She looked deeply into her sister’s troubled eyes. “That’s what Josha eats.”

(Editor’s note: Thanks to Doug, Paul, Steve, Jason, Sherry, Irene, Hot Sauce Dad, Lubino, Johnny, Jeffrey, Johns Burslews, Jeannie, Peggy Jo, Brad, Dads Studs, Baby Number Three, Ruth Farmer, Joe, and Doug’s mom. And of course, Mary-Kate and Ashley and the Blue Hen Vietnamese Kitchen. They’re all real, believe it or not. Except for the poor waiter, who I made up.)

 

Mary-Kate Olsen Says She Spoke With JonBenet Ramsey

JonBenet appeared on the beach and they talked for hours, actress claims

LA JOLLA, CALIF. – JULY 19, 2008 – A cyclone will tear through Wyoming. The Japanese yen will surge. Sen. John McCain of Arizona will be the next U.S. president. Mary-Kate Olsen says these and other predictions were given to her early Saturday morning by JonBenet Ramsey, the 6-year-old Colorado girl who was killed in 1996.

“I was doing my regular meditation, on the deck, looking out at the ocean,” Mary-Kate said Saturday night from her home in La Jolla. “And suddenly I saw this shape walking down by the water. It was close to midnight, and it looked like a little kid, so I blew out the candles and turned off the music and ran down there.”

Mary-Kate says she was apprehensive as she approached the shape, which had vibrant blonde hair and was wearing what looked like a white party dress.

“I said, ‘Hey, what are you doing out here all alone?’ and as I got closer I realized it was a little girl. Then as I got real close, I almost swallowed my fucking tongue – it was JonBenet Ramsey, the little girl who was killed back in the nineties and everybody thought her parents did it.”

On the morning of Dec. 26, 1996, JonBenet’s body was found by her father, John Ramsey, in the basement of the Ramsey’s Boulder, Colo., home. Earlier that morning, the child’s mother, Patsy Ramsey, had dialed 911 to report that her daughter had been kidnapped. The parents for years have been the favorite suspects of the media and many law enforcement agencies, though formal charges have never been filed against them. Patsy Ramsey died in 2006.

Mary-Kate immediately recognized JonBenet, whose image had dominated the tabloids for several years after her death and still shows up in magazines and on websites.

“I knew it was her – who else could it be, walking down the beach at that hour?” Mary-Kate said. “And when she stopped and looked at me, I saw that it wasn’t a party dress, but a funeral dress. I said, ‘Are you JonBenet?’ – even though I knew it was. And she said in this cute little-girl voice, ‘I’m sorry, did I frighten you? I’m just trying to find my way home.’ As soon as she spoke, I felt my third-eye chakra get warm and become totally clear.”

The two walked across the beach toward Mary-Kate’s house, but JonBenet would not go inside. So they sat on some boulders, which Mary-Kate thought was ironic but didn’t say anything about, and talked. They talked until 2:30 in the morning.

“She said she had come back to this plane – meaning this natural world – to find the person who killed her, and then she could go home,” Mary-Kate said. “She made it really clear that it wasn’t either of her parents who killed her, like the fucking media said for like ten years. It was some guy who she didn’t even know who broke in the house, threatened her and made her go downstairs with him, took her in the basement . . . did stuff to her, then hit her in the head with what she thinks was a flashlight, then while she was laying there basically dying already, he put a wire around her neck and ended her life.”

Mary-Kate said JonBenet explained that she was unconscious in the spirit world for an undetermined amount of time and therefore didn’t know what the killer did right after the murder. The next thing the child was aware of was when her father “woke her up” in the basement and took her in his arms and carried her upstairs.

“She said she thought she had dreamed the whole thing, but she couldn’t move or speak or see – at least not through her eyes,” Mary-Kate said. “She was seeing everything as if she weren’t really a part of the events. Which is a sure sign of an out-of-body, post-death experience. Then like three or four minutes later, she said, she got whisked off to some very dark place. And that’s where she stayed for a long time. She didn’t know how long.”

According to JonBenet, she never went to heaven. She just existed in the darkness until she felt it was time to get out, and when she left, she found herself back in Boulder, outside her former home.

“Nobody could see her at that time,” Mary-Kate said. “Then about six months ago, people started being able to detect her, so she started ‘disappearing’ during the day and only coming out at night – a trick I totally need to learn. Somehow she ended up in San Diego, then she started walking up this way, toward La Jolla. She’s only six, even though if she were still alive she’d be like eighteen or whatever. So all she knows is she’s trying to hunt down the killer so she can go home, as she puts it. It’s so sad. She has no idea what she’s doing. She’s just ‘traveling’ as she puts it.”

Mary-Kate took a deep breath and brushed some hair back over her shoulders. “Kind of like we’re all doing, in a way,” she said and poured wine from a bottle into a large blue glass.

It’s JonBenet’s belief, Mary-Kate said, that she won’t ever be able to rest in whatever final place she’s going to until she identifies the person who killed her.

“She didn’t seem very upset at the idea she might have to wander around in this fucked-up split-state for eternity,” Mary-Kate said. “When we talked about it, she seemed fairly happy, actually. Me, well, I was damn near in shock – a fucking ghost walking on the beach, and off all ghosts, JonBenet’s ghost. I tried to get her to come in the house. I had this stupid idea that if I could get her in there and maybe give her something to eat and play a game with her or something, she might want to stay with me for awhile. There’s no telling how much I could learn that would help me on my own astral path if I had her to talk to all the time.”

But JonBenet said she had to keep traveling. She did, however, make several alarming statements. “It was so chilling to hear her say all that. She said a cyclone would kill 280 people in Wyoming in September, and that the Japanese economy will grow uncontrollably in December and cause America’s economy to get all fucked up – I didn’t tell her that it’s already all fucked up, and she said that that fuckhead McCain will be the next president, which will fuck up the economy even worse, but I didn’t say that, either.”

JonBenet asked Mary-Kate if there was anything she wanted to know about her own future.

“I asked her if me and Ashley would ever learn how to get along like we used to, and she said it was unlikely. And I know why it’s unlikely – it’s cause Ashley has to run every-fucking-body’s life she gets around, and I’m not going to put up with it. Then I asked will I ever be known as a top movie actress, and JonBenet said I will, but it will take many years to overcome all the hype surrounding me when I was a kid – and if anybody knows about childhood hype, it’s JonBenet. Then, since I didn’t want to seem too selfish, I asked her if Dakota Fanning and Abigail Breslin would fight again, cause that’s something I’m really interested in at the moment.”

Mary-Kate paused to drink half the wine in her glass and light a cigarette. Her protection dog, Rusty, came trotting in from the living room and sat down beside her. “No wine for you,” she said and gave Rusty a dog biscuit.

“Well, as to the Dakota and Abigail thing, JonBenet told me they would definitely fight again, and this time it would be in a steel cage, like you see in professional wrestling. She told me that Dakota would beat Abigail badly and there would be a lot of blood, and it might possibly ruin Abigail’s career, which as far as I’m concerned is already ruined.”

Mary-Kate asked JonBenet one last time to come inside and stay awhile, but JonBenet declined.

“It was very sad watching her walk away, so little and all alone on the beach like that,” Mary-Kate said. “I just stood by the boulders and cried. The experience really touched me – never mind her predictions, I don’t care about any of that. What matters is that I was one of the few people – if not the only person – to really know the truth about what happened to her the night she died. And the cosmic energy that ran all over me, it’s still with me now. It may be with me for the rest of my life. I believe she’s blessed. Possibly an angel.”

Asked if she would tell Ashley about her encounter with JonBenet, Mary-Kate said, “Yeah . . . what’s tonight? Saturday? Yeah, I’ll wait till I’m really drunk, like at four in the morning, then I’ll call her and wake her up and scream, ‘I had a meeting with JonBenet!’ and she’ll be like, ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’ and I’ll say, ‘The little dead girl, she was walking on my beach, and we talked about her death and all kinds of shit.’ And Ashley’ll get all pissed off and hang up on me, then she’ll call our mom and wake her ass up and bitch to her about me. Then tomorrow she’ll drive down here and check my med log and scour the house to see if I got any drugs – illegal ones – and she’ll ask me if I need to go into a hospital. That’s cool. I know what happened, and I know I’ll never be the same because of it.”

 

Mary-Kate And Ashley Watch The Dakota-Abigail Fight

The younger actresses’ brawl leads to tension between the older twins

LA JOLLA, CALIF. – JULY 14, 2008 – Now that Mary-Kate is alive and back from Cuba and getting into the swing of things again, she and her sister Ashley have resumed a long-standing tradition of getting together on Monday nights, just the two of them, to have fun, be silly, laugh, play and essentially do anything they feel like doing.

Often one of the girls will rent a movie or record a favorite television show so they can enjoy it together for the three or four hours a week when absolutely nothing is allowed to come between them. Ashley calls it bonding; Mary-Kate calls it communing. This Monday night, they both called it fighting.

The night before, Sunday, while she was dancing with friends at a San Diego nightclub, Mary-Kate auto-taped the pay-per-view special The East-West Showdown, better known as the public cat-fight between actresses Abigail Breslin, 12, and Dakota Fanning, 14. Ashley drove down to La Jolla Monday afternoon, and that evening after a dinner of lasagna for Ashley and six raisins and a pear for Mary-Kate, they sat down to watch the show.

“I heard about this,” Ashley said as she and Mary-Kate sat side by side on a plush velvet couch, sharing a bowl of popcorn that Mary-Kate would not touch. “I can’t believe they’re doing it on TV. Thanks for taping this, Katie. You’re such a loving sister since you came back from the dead.” She kissed Mary-Kate’s cheek.

“Yeah, and that’s what Abigail’s gonna be after Dakota gets finished with her,” Mary-Kate said. “Dead.”

Ashley laughed. “You think that prima-donna country bumpkin can beat Abigail? Abigail’s gonna destroy her.” She yelled at the television: “Let’s go, Abigail!” Then, “Remember, we met her that time?”

“Met who?”

“Abigail.”

“Right. She smelled like she had some kind of disease.”

The twins’ German shepherd protection dog, Rusty, gave a little bark from his feather bed by the sliding glass door.

“Rusty can’t fucking stand her,” Mary-Kate said.

On the television screen, pop star Avril Lavigne bounded into the ring to sing the national anthem.

“Oh, my God!” Ashley said. “Turn it up – it’s Avril! Where’s the remote?”

Mary-Kate turned up the sound, and the girls watched Lavigne stumble through “The Star Spangled Banner” with errors like “Oh say can you see, by the dawns every night,” and “o’er the ramparts we watched, and were valiantly screaming,” and “and the rocket’s red glare, bombers bursting in air.”

“I can’t believe she ever made it as big as she did,” Mary-Kate said, turning the sound back down a little.

“What do you mean? She’s excellent!”

“She’s a fucking dumbass.”

“Don’t criticize Avril.”

Mary-Kate flicked a piece of popcorn in her sister’s face.

“Don’t, Mary-Kate – I still have makeup on!”

The opening event pitted Dakota’s 10-year-old sister, Elle, against a gigantic professional boxer named Butterbean.

“He weighs five times as much as me,” Mary-Kate said.

“This is ridiculous,” Ashley said. “Elle can’t beat Butterbean.”

“Supposedly earlier this year, Elle was going to fight him because she heard a butterbean was beating people up. But she thought it was a real butterbean, like some people eat.”

“She’s pretty stupid to think that,” Ashley said.

“Bet you can’t say it three times fast,” Mary-Kate said and knocked her bare feet against Ashley’s.

“What can’t I say?”

“Butterbean beating people up.”

“I can do it. Butterbean beating people up, butterbean beating people up, butterbean people . . . beating off . . . ooops.”

“Save it for the bathroom,” Mary-Kate said and laughed at Ashley. “Oh, cool, ‘Hells Bells.’ I love this song.”

The girls watched little Elle run to the ring and slam into Butterbean and fall down on the canvas. They watched Butterbean stalk Elle around the ring. Then Elle socked him in the chest and stunned him.

“Go, Elle! Kick his motherfucking ass!” Mary-Kate screamed.

“That’s insane!” Ashley said. “She can’t hurt him with one punch.”

“Dynamite comes in small packages,” Mary-Kate said.

“Mom always says that.”

“She usually means Dad, but still, it’s true.”

A few minutes later, Elle had beaten Butterbean silly and the ring announcer was raising her hand in victory.”

“That was a setup,” Ashley said. “But I don’t think the Abigail fight will be. Did you read all the things Dakota said about her?”

“Yeah, and they were all true. Abigail’s a little fat pig, and she’s ugly, and she doesn’t know how to dress, and she’s retarded, and she can’t act.”

“Oh, my God! She’s got a great wardrobe!”

“And she’s a total fucking bitch,” Mary-Kate said. “Did you read what her and her fat-ass mother said about Dakota?”

“Yeah, that Dakota’s white trash and eats Ding Dongs and peanut butter and has a tooth growing out of her head and her uncle’s her father. All of which I’m sure is true. Then Elle did this satanic spell on Abigail.”

“Satan is a figment of the imagination. And Dakota’s none of those things. She’s the best child actress in history.”

“You’re deluded,” Ashley said.

“And you’re getting fat.”

Ashley screamed, “I am not, Mary-Kate!”

“You are too. Shut up, they’re introducing Dakota.”

On the screen, Dakota and rock singer Axl Rose started up the aisle toward the ring.

“Who’s that with her?” Ashley said.

“Axl Rose.”

“The guy from Guns ‘N Roses? What’s he doing with her?”

“He’s her boyfriend.”

Ashley gave Mary-Kate a lame look. “He is not.”

“That’s the impression I got from reading that website about her.”

“What website?”

“DakotaFanningNews. On WordPress.”

“WordPress sucks.”

“Yeah, but that site’s cool.”

“Sssh, here comes Abigail.” Ashley got on her knees on the couch and yelled, “You can do it, Abbi! You’re a tough New York chick!”

“What the fuck?” Mary-Kate said when former Guns ‘N Roses guitarist Slash joined Abigail on the walk up the aisle.

“Slash!” Ashley screamed. “God, he’s so beautiful! I love you, Slash, even if I don’t understand you!”

“He looks like a poodle with a top hat. Plus he just got done giving a guitar lesson to Elle, so that means he’s a traitor.” Mary-Kate yelled at the screen: “Traitor! Fucking traitor!”

The girls shut up when Abigail started running toward the ring. She dove into Dakota and knocked her down. The girls slapped and pulled hair and kicked, then Abigail threw Dakota on her back and punched her over and over.

“Woooo-hoooo!” Ashley said, circling her arm in the air. “You show her, Abbi!”

Rusty jumped up and started barking.

“Lass das sein!” Mary-Kate said to him, and Rusty stopped barking. “Platz. Bleib.” To Ashley: “Don’t ‘woooo-hoooo’ like that – he thinks it’s a siren.”

Slash threw a jar of peanut butter into the ring.

“Gross! Food!” Mary-Kate said.

Abigail went to Dakota and smeared peanut butter in her hair and eyes, then she started beating on her again and dragging her around the ring by the hair. Then Elle came charging up the aisle.

“Cheater!” Ashley yelled at the screen.

“Fucking Abigail and the poodle are the ones that are cheating, Ashley!” Mary-Kate got up and sat on the back of the couch.

“Did you wash your feet?” Ashley said.

“Not since I died.”

While the referee was distracted, Slash climbed up on the ring apron and locked Dakota’s arms behind her back so Abigail could get in some free shots.

“Oh, my God!” Mary-Kate screamed. “You stupid fucking referee – look around, look around!”

Abigail streaked across the ring then turned and ran full-speed back at Dakota. But before she got there, Axl snuck up behind Slash and whacked him in the balls. Slash let go of Dakota, who fell down, and Abigail flew right into Slash, knocking him onto the floor.

“That’s what you get!” Mary-Kate yelled.

“Did you see what Axl did to Slash!”

“Yeah, he cracked him in the motherfucking nuts!”

“That’s cheating!” Ashley scooted to the edge of the couch. “Get up, Abbi! Get up, Slash!”

Now Dakota started toward Abigail, and Abigail was pleading with her not to hurt her. But as soon as Dakota lunged, Abigail kicked her hard in the stomach. She jumped up and began ripping the shirt off Dakota’s back.

“Oh, my God!” Mary-Kate stood up on the couch. “She’s taking off her shirt. She must be a fucking bull-dyke on top of being ugly and retarded!”

Off came the shirt, and Dakota was left topless, save for a small pink sport bra.

“What are those people yelling?” Mary-Kate said.

“Hounddog,” Ashley said.

“That is so low-class.”

“It was low-class to let yourself get raped in a movie when you’re only 12.”

“It wasn’t her fault, Ashley. The script said she had to do it. Oh, shit – look at the poodle.”

Both girls watched Slash turn toward a pack of teenage girls and simulate masturbation.

“He’s probably used to it,” Mary-Kate said.

“God, he’s sexy,” Ashley said, mesmerized.

“You’re weird.”

“No, you just don’t know a hot guy when you see one.”

“A guy jacking off in front of a bunch of teenage girls isn’t what I’d call hot, Ashley. Grow up.”

“Guys used to do it in front of us when we were that age,” Ashley said.

“Yeah, but we weren’t normal girls.”

Abigail ran at Dakota, but Dakota kicked her in the face and stopped her cold. Now it was Dakota’s turn to tear off Abigail’s shirt.

“Rape the bitch!” Mary-Kate screamed.

And when the shirt was off, four seconds of Abigail’s small, bare breasts bounced around in close-up until a black censor’s bar was inserted over them.

“Oh, Abigail, I feel your pain,” Ashley sighed.

“She’s got ugly tits,” Mary-Kate said.

“She’s twelve years old, Mary-Kate!”

“Which means they’ll be so ugly by the time she’s our age, no normal guy’ll want to suck on them.”

“Shut up. You’re gross.”

“Just trying to piss you off.”

“Well you already have, so shut up.”

Dakota started slinging Abigail around the ring. Elle hopped up on the ring apron with a chair grasped in both hands.

“You little cheater!” Ashley yelled at Elle. “What the hell is the referee doing?

“Jacking off with Slash, probably.”

Dakota threw Abigail toward Elle, and Elle slammed the chair into her face as hard as she could. The crack was easily picked up on the ring microphones.

“Oh, my God – that was real!” Ashley screamed.

“No shit, Ashley. It’s called wrestling!”

Dakota went for the pin. Mary-Kate counted with the referee: “One! Two!” At the last instant, Abigail wrenched her shoulder up off the mat. “You fucking whore! You fucking New York whore!”

The girls on the screen went back to slapping and kicking and pulling hair. Both of them were bleeding from the face. Abigail’s blood flowed profusely, draining down under the black censor’s bar and onto her stomach. The girls rolled apart, and Slash threw a small object to Abigail. She went to Dakota, pulled her hair to make her stand up then hit her right in the face. Dakota crumpled.

“A fucking foreign object!” Mary-Kate yelled. “She hit her with a foreign object!”

Ashley cheered and clapped. Rusty barked three times but stayed on his bed as he had been told.

The referee counted Dakota out – one, two, three, and the match was over.

“Fucking bullshit!” Mary-Kate said and whacked the arm of the couch.

“She won it fair and square,” Ashley said, setting the popcorn bowl on the coffee table.

“No, she cheated, cause she’s a fucking New York whore, and she’s probably having sex with the poodle.”

“You know, since you’ve come back to life, you’re more crude than ever,” Ashley said.

“Being dead does something to a girl. I’ll tell you one thing, if I ever see Abigail Breslin in person, I’m going to tell her what I think of her.” Mary-Kate went over to a table by the front door and got her cell phone.

“Are you calling her?”

“No, I’m calling Dakota as soon as I get her number.” She punched two buttons. “Hey, it’s Mary-Kate . . . I’m not out of breath . . . well, if I am it’s cause I just watched that fucking New York whore Abigail Breslin cheat and beat Dakota Fanning in that fight . . . I know it was last night, Mom. What’s Dakota’s phone number? . . . I don’t care – any number that connects to their house. Okay.” Mary-Kate wrote the number on a piece of paper. “No, I’m fine. Yes, Ashley’s here. Yes, I took my meds. I gotta go. I’ll call you before I go to bed . . . shit, hang on.” She yelled at Ashley: “Mom wants to know if you’re spending the night.”

“Are you sure you want to sleep with a fan of the New York whore?” Ashley said.

“No, you can sleep in Salvatore’s old room.” To her mother: “Yeah, Ashley’s staying. Thanks, Mom. Talk soon.” She hung up and dialed Dakota’s number. “Hi, is Dakota there? This is Mary-Kate Olsen . . . yeah, I’m glad it was a mistake too, believe me . . . oh, okay. Well, can you tell her I called cause I just saw the fight, and I want her to know I’m on her side and that Abigail Breslin is a fucking poodle-fucking New York whore? Great. Thanks. See you.” She hung up.

“Who was that?” Ashley said, standing up and unbuttoning her blouse to get ready for bed.

“Her mom. She said Dakota’s asleep.”

“Why do you talk to people that way, Katie? It’s so vulgar.”

“Cause I’m vulgar. Are you going to bed?”

“Yeah, I’m tired all of a sudden. You exhaust me.”

“How about let’s go in the shower and see whose boobs are bigger.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Ashley said.

“Wanna wrestle, then?”

“Wrestle how?”

“Like we used to when we were little. Just for fun.”

“Uh-huh. I always get hurt when it’s just for fun.”

“I won’t hurt you, promise,” Mary-Kate said and ran for the kitchen.

“Where are you going?”

“To get the wine,” Mary-Kate said. “And the peanut butter.”

 

Mary-Kate Olsen Laid To Rest . . . Almost

DEATH OF MARY-KATE PART VII

Funeral of “World’s Wackiest Twin” is everything everybody hoped it would be

STUDIO CITY, CALIF. – JULY 8, 2008 – Ask anyone in Hollywood – celebrity funerals are always a little different from funerals for “regular” people. They tend to be quirky and unconventional, and the strangest things sometimes happen. Mary-Kate Olsen’s funeral Tuesday fit that description to a T.

Ashley can barely function

The service at the First Christian Church in Studio City was delayed beyond its 1 p.m. start time, because Ashley Olsen, Mary-Kate’s twin sister, was too traumatized to even climb out of the limousine she’d arrived in. She sat in the vehicle, in a parking lot full of Cadillacs, Mercedes Benzes, Jaguars, and Lincolns, and cried helplessly in the arms of her mother, Jarnette, while several close family friends tried to console her on the worst day of her 22-year-old life.

When reporters ventured near the limo, bodyguards quickly shoved them back to the sidewalk on Colfax Avenue, where hundreds of fans not allowed into the church stood mourning under charcoal skies.

At 1:45 p.m., Ashley emerged from the limo, glued to her mother, clinging to her as if one wrong move would send her spiraling into oblivion. Frail and hesitant, she wore a black, long-sleeve Donna Karan original, purple Dior sunglasses and a wide-brimmed black hat with a sheer veil, tied at her neck to keep it from blowing off in the wind. Paparazzi, at least 50 of them, began snapping photos and shouting Ashley’s name the instant they laid eyes on her. Ashley ignored them and with her mother’s help shuffled and stumbled to the front doors of the church.

Once inside the lobby, Ashley faltered and held tighter to Jarnette’s arm as her knees buckled. The friends who had been with her in the limousine quickly wrapped their arms around her. Ashley told them she was okay, go on inside. She went to the drinking fountain and guzzled water. The friends walked through the swinging doors and into the church. Jarnette looked at her watch. Ashley returned and hugged her mother one more time, then they walked through the doors together.

The only open seats were at the very front, on the left side of the flower-laden altar. The aisles around the perimeter were packed with people who couldn’t get seats, watching in silence with everyone else the mother and sister of the deceased. The silent watchers included such notables as Kirstie Alley, Bob Saget, Eric Lutes, Sally Wheeler, Eugene Levy, Julian Stone, Megan Fox, Christopher Sieber and Kathy Greenwood. Each of these people, each of whom Ashley and Mary-Kate had once worked with, were seated in the pews.

Suspiciously absent was the twins former attorney, Robert Thorne, who had nearly single-handedly created the Mary-Kate & Ashley brand and whom the sisters fired in 2004.

No one spoke as Ashley and Jarnette walked to the front of the church. Heads down, eyes averted, they took seats at the aisle-end of the first pew, where the rest of the immediate family had been waiting for Ashley to arrive. Then came what they were all really waiting for: the arrival of Mary-Kate.

The massive pipe organ blasted a triumphant refrain. Those who were sitting rose as the hymn “How Great Thou Art” filled the building. The doors at the back of the church swept open, and Senior Pastor Lawrence Bachman in a white-and-yellow robe led a contingent of deacons and pallbearers up the aisle with Mary-Kate’s coffin, which was draped with a white-and-yellow pall. Ashley turned to watch. She removed her glasses and wiped tears from her eyes.

The pallbearers placed the coffin on a golden stand at the foot of the altar. The organist played through three choruses of “How Great Thou Art.” Then Pastor Bachman stepped up to the lectern.

“The Olsen family requested that we hear selections of the word of God from the ninetieth Psalm,” he said. “Lord, through all the generations, you have been our home. Before the mountains were created, before you made the earth and the world, you are God, without beginning or end. You turn people back to dust, saying, ‘Return to dust.’ For you, a thousand years are as yesterday. They are like a few hours.”

Ashley’s sister, Lizzie, 19, reached across Jarnette’s lap and held Ashley’s hand. Ashley smiled but did not look at Lizzie.

“Seventy years are given to us,” Pastor Bachman continued. “Some may even reach eighty. But even the best of these years are filled with pain and trouble; soon they disappear, and we are gone. Teach us to make the most of our time, so that we may grow in wisdom. O Lord, come back to us. How long will you delay? Take pity on your servants. Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, so we may sing for joy to the end of our lives. Give us gladness in proportion to our former misery. Replace the evil years with good.”

Ashley’s brother, Trent, 24, put his arm around Lizzie. She released Ashley’s hand and laid her head on Trent’s shoulder. Beside Trent, Mary-Kate and Ashley’s father, David, and his wife, McKenzie, sat stiffly, their eyes locked on the casket as Bachman kept reading.

“Let us see your miracles again; let our children see your glory at work. And may the Lord our God show us his approval and make our efforts successful. Yes, make our efforts successful.”

A pause, then Bachman said, “Let us pray. Father God, we come before you today to lay to rest Mary-Kate Olsen, who served you for a mere twenty-two years. Yet in that time, she touched many, particularly those within her loving family. We ask your blessing on us here today and on Mary-Kate’s spirit, which resides with you in time everlasting. Amen.” He turned to choir director Elliot Richley.

Again those seated in the parsonage stood as Richley replaced Bachman at the lectern and led the congregation in singing the hymn “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” Trying her best to sing but finding it impossible, Ashley gave up and started to cry. With her right hand over both eyes, she cried until the hymn was finished.

Everybody sat, and the organ softly played on. Pastor Bachman said, “We are gathered here today in this service to pay our respects to Mary-Kate. Today for the comfort and hope we need, let us turn our thoughts to the love of God. He cares for us, even when we do not deserve to be cared for. For in the midst of such sorrow, we must lean upon God. We must remember that what sorrow is to us, is great reward for Mary-Kate, for she has graduated from this life with its troubles and pains to a better life eternal with her Lord and God.”

Now McKenzie began to cry. Ashley glanced across bodies to where her step-mother was clutching David’s arm. Surely Ashley remembered the friction between Mary-Kate and McKenzie, which was almost as intense as the friction between herself and McKenzie. Neither twin had ever bonded with David’s wife, even with all David had done to try to correct the imbalances. After Mary-Kate and McKenzie got into a rambunctious fight three days before David and McKenzie’s 1996 wedding, Ashley refused to attend the ceremony.

Ashley smiled at McKenzie. Funerals have a way of burying the deceased as well as the past.

“At such a time as this, we need to trust in the Lord God,” Pastor Bachman said. “He is a God of sympathy and understanding. He knows our hurts and our loneliness. He knows how we feel. The Bible tells us that he knows our sorrows and records our tears. If he sees the tears, he knows the reason those tears fall from our eyes. We are told that all our thoughts, ways and words are known to him, and that a book of remembrance is written before him for those that fear the Lord and think upon his name.”

The pastor stopped talking and looked down at Ashley. She handed her sunglasses to her mother and stood up.

“Mary-Kate’s sister, Ashley, will deliver the eulogy,” Bachman said.

The hardest speech of Ashley’s life

With careful, measured steps, Ashley approached the lectern. Gone was the confidence that once bubbled all around her, and the air of silent sophistication that anyone who knew her knew her by. She unfolded a single sheet of paper, wiped her eyes, pushed back the brim of her hat, and fell down on the floor, jarring the microphone in its pedestal.

A rush of breath left the audience. David, Jarnette, Trent, Lizzie and McKenzie raced up the steps. Five minutes of silence was broken only by Pastor Bachman’s asking David if somebody needed to call for an ambulance. David told him no.

Five more minutes, and Ashley was revived and able to stand on her own. The family returned to their seats, but with fresh lines of worry drawn into their faces – perhaps they feared both sisters would be lost.

“I’m sorry,” Ashley said into the microphone, too close and too loudly. She pulled her head back a few inches. “I’m not used to this. But there are some things I really want to say.” She consulted her paper. “If you’re not a twin, you don’t know how connected twins are. Mary-Kate was my sister, but that was the least of what she was in my life. There were good times and bad times, but nothing ever changed what we felt for each other in our core. Today I want to tell you about the girl on the left . . .”

Ashley put down her head and began to cry again. Throughout the crowd people cried with her and for her. David took a very deep breath and sat up a little straighter as if preparing for another dash up the steps.

“Sorry, sorry,” Ashley said, sloppily wiping at her eyes. “The girl on the left side of the ampersand, like she always used to call it.” A few soft giggles rose from the audience. Ashley laughed a little, too, and made a curly shape in the air with her finger. “You know, the little ‘and’ thingy that separated our names. Mary-Kate used that term in a joking way – the girl on the left side, meaning her, and on the right side, meaning me. She was being sarcastic, mostly. The ampersand between our names showed us as a team, like a unit, and most of her life, she never really liked the fact that we were so famous and popular.”

Outside the church, a horn honked three times. A female voice screamed something that nobody in the church could make out. Ashley looked at the doors, then up at the lights hanging from the ceiling. Then she gazed down at her sister’s coffin.

“Every girl’s voice I hear these days reminds me of her,” she said. “Voices I hear in a crowd sound like hers. And she had the most beautiful, perfect voice. Mine, I’ve never really liked. Mary-Kate had this tone that was so . . . I don’t know . . . so smooth and elegant, especially when she got older. Her voice was one of the few things she was really proud of.”

Ashley paused. Jarnette blew her nose quietly. A main door out front squeaked and then clapped shut. A few people looked in that direction, then turned their attention back to Ashley. An elderly woman sitting four rows behind the Olsen family whispered to an elderly man, “Late for a funeral. God will be the judge.”

“But there were so many things about Mary-Kate that you could be proud of,” Ashley said. “When she laughed, it was contagious. And she always tried to sing. She loved singing. It was so funny, because she wasn’t a very good singer, but she always wanted to be. She tried so hard.”

Ah-oh

In the foyer, on the other side of the closed swinging doors, came a loud woman’s voice, not exactly singing, more like ranting: “They say I’m cocky, I say what? It ain’t braggin’ motherfucker, if you back it up! They say I’m cocky . . .” The doors flew open, and there stood Mary-Kate in a flowing white dress, a massive lime-green purse hanging from her left shoulder.

Every head turned. A few hymnals thudded on the floor. Six or seven women toppled over onto the laps of people sitting next to them.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” Mary-Kate said, pulling earphones out of her ears. “I thought you guys were having a luncheon or something. I came by to talk to Pastor . . . whoa – did somebody die?”

Jarnette screamed. David and McKenzie jumped to their feet, but McKenzie fainted and fell down in a black and blonde heap at Trent’s feet.

Ashley yelled, “Mary-Kate!”

Mary-Kate said, “Ashley? What are you . . . what are all you guys . . . hey, Dad, what . . .”

“Mary-Kate!” Ashley came charging down the steps and down the aisle toward her sister.

Mary-Kate’s eyes flew open and she started backing up in fear. When Ashley kept running and screaming, Mary-Kate spun around and dashed out of the church. Minus those who had fainted, the entire crowd was on its feet by then – some screaming as loudly as Ashley, others crying, others standing and watching in shock as Ashley kicked off her heels and ran faster toward the door.

Mary-Kate flew down the front steps and into the parking lot. The mourners on the sidewalk stared with open mouths. Photographers wore out their cameras.

“What are you so pissed off at?” Mary-Kate yelled over her shoulder at Ashley, who was in hot pursuit.

“Mary-Kate! Stop! Please stop, come here, I’m not pissed off!”

Mary-Kate rounded the corner of the Sunday School room, stopped, turned around, and Ashley ran into her so hard both girls fell and tumbled on the asphalt.

“Oh, my God, oh, my God, you’re alive!” Ashley cried, clutching Mary-Kate, who was trying to get out from under her sister.

“No shit, Ashley!” Mary-Kate yelled. “Can we get off the ground? I’ll tell you all about it, if you just–”

“But the news said you were dead! They said you got shot at the airport in Cuba!”

Ashley rolled off, and both girls stood up.

“I didn’t get shot in the airport,” Mary-Kate said, examining a tear in the side of her dress. “Wait a second – you guys thought I was dead? Is that my funeral in there?”

Before Ashley could answer, Jarnette, followed by David and Trent and Lizzie and McKenzie, barreled around the corner and engulfed Mary-Kate, nearly knocking her down again.

“You guys – I’m all right, I’m not dead, if that helps any,” Mary-Kate said.

Her words took ten minutes to sink in as the family cried and laughed and hugged and kissed her. Half the people from the church were loitering in the parking lot, watching, smiling, crying.

“They said you got shot in Cuba, and the medical examiner over there confirmed it,” David said. “You were with friends, they said, and they took you from the airport, and you died in one of their homes.”

Mary-Kate gave him a weird look. “I was with Reynaldo, at his house near Havana. We were doing auditing. I told you guys all that.”

“You didn’t tell us anything!” Jarnette shrieked, past shock and clearly upset. “You just ran off, and we had to hear about it on the news!”

“Bullshit!” Mary-Kate said. “I wrote letters to all you guys, and I had Reynaldo mail them right before we left, so you guys wouldn’t worry.”

“Honey, none of us got a letter,” David said.

Ashley suddenly screamed for no clear reason and threw her arms around Mary-Kate.

“That bastard!” Mary-Kate said. “Okay, it all makes sense now. It’s a long story, but mainly it turned out he was like some major player in the church, and they were using him to get my money. We did some auditing, but then he started talking about how other Scientology programs were going to cost me all this money. I finally saw through it. So I came back.”

“He kidnapped you!” Ashley said and let go of her sister. “He kidnapped you, so let’s call the police and have him arrested!”

“He didn’t kidnap me, he just wanted my money. Fuck him. Look, I’m really sorry about all this. Damn, my own funeral. Where’s Rusty?”

“I went and got him and brought him to our house,” Ashley said. “You just took off and left him–”

“In the letter I wrote to you, that you obviously didn’t get, I said I wanted you to go pick him up and feed Salvatore.”

“Who’s Salvatore?” David said.

“My alligator,” Mary-Kate said.

Jarnette said, “Jesus Christ.”

“Where’s Salvatore?” Mary-Kate said. “I didn’t go home – I just came here cause I needed to talk to Pastor Bachman about some . . . stuff. Did you take care of Salvatore?”

“No, I didn’t take care of your alligator, Mary-Kate!” Ashley said, adjusting her hat and trying to fix her hair from the collision. “Him and Rusty broke out of your house, and they went walking through La Jolla. They almost killed some Jehovah’s Witnesses.”

“Oh, my God – did they shoot him?”

“No, he ended up in the zoo in San Diego, where he belongs.”

Mary-Kate paused to think about that. “Okay. But Rusty’s okay? Did he miss me?”

Ashley started crying. “He sleeps by the door every night, waiting for you to come home.”

“Poor Rusty. So you didn’t tell him I was dead?”

Jarnette said, “We spared him the shock so the rest of us could absorb it.”

“I want to see him,” Mary-Kate said.

“But first, there’s something we need to see,” David said. “If you’re out here, who’s in there?”

“We saw her . . . you . . . her,” Jarnette said. “When we went to the mortuary. We saw her. We saw something.”

“And you thought it was me?” Mary-Kate said. “Man, I’m glad to know I’m so generic.”

“Don’t get smart,” Jarnette said. “The girl had surgery on her face because of the bullets. We thought . . .” She cleared her throat. “It looked like you. It looked like how you’d look if you’d been shot and had surgery.”

“Let’s go,” David said and led everybody through the crowd, back into the parsonage and up to the casket.

“Mary-Kate, it’s so nice to have you back,” Pastor Bachman said from the lectern, where he had stayed, praying, during the commotion.

“Glad to be back, thanks,” Mary-Kate said. “It looks like it was a really nice funeral. You guys did a great job.”

“We always do our best,” Bachman said.

Mary-Kate held onto Ashley’s arm. “I don’t know if I want to see myself dead.”

“Well, I need to see whoever it is,” David said.

He eased open the lid of the coffin. The girl inside wore a pretty yellow summer dress and had her arms folded gently across her midsection. Her face was scarred with stitches and lumps that were obviously broken bones that hadn’t been repaired – it was never expected to be an open-casket funeral. But even through the disfigurement, it was easy to see Mary-Kate in the corpse. The girl’s hair was full and deep auburn, like Mary-Kate’s. Her lips were full and pink and closed in a peaceful half-smile, like Mary-Kate’s sometimes.

“Fuck,” Mary-Kate said.

“Now that I look at her, I can tell it’s not you,” David said.

“I can’t believe you couldn’t tell that at the mortuary.”

“As hard as it might be for you to believe,” Jarnette said, “we were a little distraught at having to go view our dead daughter on a goddamn steel table. I’m sure our powers of observation were slightly compromised.”

“I know who it is,” Ashley said, and everybody turned to look at her. “While you were gone, there was this woman who wanted to take your place. She looked almost exactly like you.”

“How could somebody take my place?” Mary-Kate said.

“She was a nut. She was down on Wilshire trying to get people to sign a petition so she could be you until you came back from Cuba. They interviewed me about her, and I read the story, and it said they took her to jail, and she said she was going to go to Cuba and see if she could find you.”

“So the people at the airport just thought it was Mary-Kate,” David said. “Goddamn Cubans.”

“They probably read the story about Mary-Kate going there, and they just figured it was her,” Ashley said.

Jarnette said, “But you’d think somebody would have known.”

“None of you guys knew,” Mary-Kate said.

“That’s true,” David said. “And we’re not even Cuban.”

Mary-Kate looked down at the body. “What’s her name?”

“Sheila,” Ashley said. “Sheila Shaw.”

Mary-Kate bent over and lightly kissed Shaw’s forehead. “Rest in peace, Sheila,” she said. “It’s not easy being me, and I guess you found that out the hard way.” She straightened up and faced Ashley and took both her hands. “Happy birthday, late, Ashley. I’m sorry I missed it. We never missed a birthday.”

“Happy birthday, Katie,” Ashley said. “We’ll make up for it.”

THE END. AMEN.

(Editor’s note: While doing this story, I came to really love the hymn “How Great Thou Art.” It’s not like I’m turning religious or anything – over on the Dakota and Elle Fanning side, I’m still wrestling with Elle and Satan. But for those of you who love this beautiful traditional hymn, I wanted to link a couple other versions of it. The organ version in the story above is by Lance, who has a ton of church organ music on his youtube channel page.)

Sandi Patty

Elvis Presley

Brigham Young University Choir

Glory Choir

Statler Brothers

 

Fan Feedback

DEATH OF MARY-KATE PART VI

Notes to Mary-Kate and family pour in from fans and others touched by her death

LOS ANGELES – JULY 3, 2008 – The announcement on Monday of Mary-Kate Olsen’s death has brought a tidal wave of letters, cards and e-mails with attached tributes to the 22-year-old actress who passed away Sunday in Havana, Cuba. The letters and cards have been arriving in giant mail bags at the Los Angeles and New York offices of Dualstar Entertainment Group, while the e-correspondence has blanketed the Internet on fan sites, message boards, forums, news portals and blogs.

Here is a sampling of Internet messages from fans and others who have in some way been affected by the loss of Mary-Kate.

From xKATIEXXX
Dear Mary Kate, you were my fave actres since i was little. i am sorry you are dead so i will pray for you. Here is a vid i found on youtube of when there were little kids with their family. It is my tribute to Mary Kate.

From LittleOne
I want to tell everybody who loves MK that she was a role modal and an inspration to us who want to be skinny like her. I met her two times in NY. She was extremly pretty and good looking. MKs biggest fan, Amanda.

From Jeffyourfoe
they whole damn family looks like their already dead ….. like they at the hotel california

From OctavioOconnor
Your strong and violent male member can not leave her lacking tonight!!!

From SkinnieMinnie
She made my life complete. When i tried to commit suicide i recovered and i remembered how hard of a time she had because of anorexia. Now i am recovered and i want to try to life my life in a way that would make her happy.

From SmoothDeal.net
You can lower your credit score with your own low interest card from CityBank, Bank of America or Chase. Don’t ruin your credit. Call now!

From Sharyah9339882
Ashley I know you are sad and unhappy because of Mary-Kate’s passing away. Me and my friends are praying for you and asking god to bring you cheer and happiness. We are sad to and wish we could make Mary-Kate come back to life.

From boredandlonely
do ne 1 no ashely email address? she hot!!!!!!

From Rushianhottie
My best girl i always love she till I die too.

From OlsensForeverNumber1
My friend sent me this pic and she said it was the house in larchmont village that Mary-Kate and Ashley bought a couple of years ago. Nobody knows where this house is cause my friend was drunk when she took the pic and cant remember.

From MKFan11
I grew up watching Full House and then I got addicted to all of her and Ashleys movies and videos. It’s like Mary-Kate was a part of my growing up years and now it’s like a part of those years are gone. I will miss her and my life will not be the same.

From GeorgiaXXXPeach
i watched NYM 9 time since Mary-Kate died and i watched it about 200 times since it came out. It my favorite movie of the olsen twins cause Mary-Kate is so real and funny in it.

From Fredinbed
wat was wrong with marykate? How come she was so skinny? i wish she was not dead even tho she was skinny

From sexieallie
my personal opinion is that skank ass bitch lindsey loan had a hand in this and her whore dyke girlfriend sam ronson. i hope dual star invistagates this and finds out the truth.

From 900KK
I am so sad to hear MK died. I cry all the time. It is so sad for her parents and her beautiful sister Ashley to loose somebody at such a young age. My cat died last year so I know what they are all going through. God Bless Mary-Kate forever!

From Peckerdecker
Filipino hotties are waiting for you to call them!

From OlsenTwins20094
i send 2 flowers to their church with a card that says Mary-Kate i love you and i will always love you

From MissMariahLA
Even tho the service is not for the public me and my friends are still going because i was her fan and i think i deserv to say bye to her. i will just stand on the street and watch all the people going in the church that loved her and i will pray for her.

From Sk8erBoi1200
even tho mk is dead i never got to have sex with her. this is make me sad because she so hot and pretty. please who know ashleys address post it here so i will have sex with her and recreate more of the human race.

From ZoriaKentucky1986
Please mary-kate why did you have to die?
You use to make me happy but now I cry
Your life was not easy but you were strong
You lived your own way but they said it was wrong
I will remember you forever my sweet girl
My favorite actress in the whole world
When the sun goes down wherever you are
I look to the sky and see your shining star

 

Olsen Twins’ JAMa Kidz Launch Cancelled

DEATH OF MARY-KATE PART V

Foundation says all planned operations on hold following Mary-Kate Olsen’s death

PECOS, TEXAS – JULY 1, 2008 – JAMa International announced Tuesday that the grand opening and launch of JAMa Kidz, the child-adoption organization created by twins Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen, has been indefinitely postponed. The death of Mary-Kate Olsen has put an end to plans for the July 8 opening and all operations thereafter.

Olsen, 22, died Sunday in Havana, Cuba, after being shot multiple times during a gun battle at Jose Marti International Airport. Four individuals who had been with Olsen at the time of her death, and who had carried her out of the airport while she was presumably still alive, were questioned by police and released. According to the medical examiner’s office in Havana, Olsen died while in the company of the individuals, who claimed to be friends of the actress. An autopsy report has not been released.

“There are no words to describe how everyone connected with JAMa International feels during this dark and sad time,” said the foundation’s executive director Pauline French. “Mary-Kate was so special to all of us. Though we didn’t see her often, most of us talked regularly on the phone with her over the last year and a half as she and Ashley oversaw JAMa Kidz’ progress. She was always upbeat and funny, and totally committed to our mission.”

Like JAMa House, JAMa Kidz was set up to be administered through JAMa International, a non-profit foundation created by Mary-Kate and Ashley in 2000. JAMa House provides hospice services for children with terminal illnesses. JAMa Kidz was to serve as a worldwide child-adoption network to place underprivileged children in both permanent and foster-care homes. All JAMa operations are headquartered in Pecos, Texas, a small town 160 miles east of El Paso.

In addition to the launch of the operation itself, the launch of the JAMa Kidz website has also been indefinitely postponed, said French, who spoke briefly with Ashley Olsen by phone Tuesday morning.

“She just said to shut it down, stop it all, and I know it hurt her to have to do that,” French said, adding that Ashley was too shaken up to be making the call herself but “that shows what kind of a spirit that she has.”

Ironically, the date set for JAMa Kidz’ grand opening – Tuesday, July 8 – is the date of Mary-Kate’s memorial service in Studio City, California. The private ceremony is scheduled to start at 1 p.m.

“It’s so horribly sad that the day we’d been preparing for for months to kick off JAMa Kidz is now the day we’re saying goodbye to Mary-Kate for the last time,” French said. “I know she had a tough time in her life lately, and I heard all the rumors about the drugs and the eating problems and the Scientology business, but you know what? That girl was an angel who made a lot of very sick kids here very happy, and I can tell you one thing: anybody who comes to Pecos and starts badmouthing her is going to have a fight on their hands.”

The JAMa acronym stands for Jillian, Ashley, Mary-Kate, and . . ., with the “and” signifying the right of all sick children to receive free services.

READ PART VI: “Fan Feedback”

 

Memorial Service For Mary-Kate Olsen Announced

DEATH OF MARY-KATE PART IV

LOS ANGELES – JULY 1, 2008 – A memorial service for slain actress Mary-Kate Olsen will take place Tuesday, July 8 at the First Christian Church in Studio City. The 1 p.m. service is closed to the public but a representative of the Olsen family said Tuesday that those wishing to send flowers may have them delivered to the church at 4390 Colfax Ave., Studio City, CA 91604. The representative added that the Olsens would prefer that a donation be made to a children’s charity in lieu of sending flowers or gifts.

Mary-Kate Olsen, 22, was gunned down Sunday at Jose Marti International Airport in Havana, Cuba, during a failed hijacking attempt by Cuban nationalists. Her body arrived in Los Angeles this morning.

READ PART V: “Olsen Twins’ JAMa Kidz Launch Cancelled”

 

Mary-Kate Olsen’s Body Returned To Los Angeles

DEATH OF MARY-KATE PART III

LOS ANGELES – JULY 1, 2008 – The body of actress Mary-Kate Olsen arrived from Cuba at Los Angeles International Airport Tuesday morning. Seven representatives from Dualstar Entertainment Group and two private security personnel were on hand to collect the plain six-foot box on a runway and whisk it away in a gray Chevrolet cargo van.

No members of Mary-Kate’s family were seen at the airport.

Olsen was killed Sunday in Havana, Cuba, during a mass shooting inside Jose Marti International Airport. In addition to Olsen, six others were killed and 14 wounded when two Cuban nationalists attempted to hijack an airplane.

Mary-Kate’s parents and twin sister, Ashley, could not be reached for comment.

READ PART IV: “Memorial Service for Mary-Kate Olsen Announced”

 

Confirmed: Mary-Kate Olsen Dead at 22

DEATH OF MARY-KATE PART II

Havana medical examiner verifies death and cause; Cuban ambassador contacts Olsen’s family in Los Angeles

HAVANA, CUBA – JUNE 30, 2008 – A Havana medical examiner announced Monday morning that actress Mary-Kate Olsen has died of gunshot wounds sustained during a hijacking attempt Sunday at Jose Marti International Airport. Olsen was 22.

According to witnesses, Olsen had been hit by a spray of bullets when two Cuban nationalists intent on hijacking an airplane opened fire on the crowd in the airport’s main terminal. Seven people were killed and 14 were injured in the massacre that took place shortly after noon.

Benito J. Mendoza, a medical examiner with the Ministerio de Asuntos Médicos, said Olsen was brought to Havana Hospital late Sunday night and was pronounced dead shortly after arrival. Mendoza said an autopsy report will be released later this week.

“She was with friends when the shooting happened,” Mendoza said through an interpreter. “They took her to one of their houses, thinking they could help her. She stopped breathing while at the house, and the friends were frightened because she was an international celebrity in their care.”

Mendoza said the friends finally decided to take Olsen to the hospital and explain what had happened.

“By that time, Sunday night, we were already aware that Ms. Olsen had been shot at the airport,” Mendoza said. “We were just waiting for someone to tell us where she was.”

The United States Ambassador to Cuba, Rafael Herrera, contacted Olsen’s family early Monday morning, a senior staff member at Herrera’s office said. Arrangements are being made to fly the body back to Los Angeles, where Olsen lived.

Neither David nor Jarnette Olsen, Mary-Kate’s parents, could be reached for comment. A receptionist at Mary-Kate and Ashley’s Dualstar Entertainment Group headquarters in Los Angeles said Mary-Kate’s twin sister, Ashley, was not in the office and would not be available for interviews.

READ PART III: “Mary-Kate Olsen’s Body Returned to Los Angeles”

 

Mary-Kate Olsen Feared Dead In Cuba

DEATH OF MARY-KATE PART I

Gunfire at Havana airport during botched hijack attempt may have claimed the life of the American actress

HAVANA, CUBA – JUNE 29, 2008 – Actress Mary-Kate Olsen was shot and may have been killed during a gun battle Sunday at Jose Marti International Airport, after two Cuban nationalists attempted to hijack an airplane and fly to the United States. Witnesses said Olsen was struck in the head and back by stray bullets and carried to a vehicle waiting outside the main terminal.

Area hospitals would not confirm that Olsen had been admitted to any of their facilities, but according to witnesses, the 22-year-old former Full House star was completely unresponsive when companions picked up her limp body and rushed her toward the exit. Because of the uproar inside the airport, the vehicle Olsen was taken to was not followed.

The two nationalists entered the airport just after noon and immediately took three hostages from among passengers waiting in line to board American Airlines flight 207 to Miami, a representative of the Cuban Interior Ministry said. Each man was armed with an AK-47 assault rifle and both had their faces partially covered by bandanas.

The identities of the nationalists were not released by the Cuban government.

“For no clear reason, the murderers began shooting indiscriminately throughout the crowded terminal,” the ministry representative said. “Six people were killed and fourteen were seriously injured. The American actress (Olsen) was hit, but friends of hers pulled her out of the way and out of the airport before paramedics arrived. The last I saw her, she was not moving and was being carried.”

Witnesses said Olsen had been with four or five other people outside a gift shop on the second floor of the terminal when the shooting began. Olsen was hit several times with bullets before those in her entourage could pull her out of the line of fire.

“My husband and I were leaving a restroom, when we heard the gunfire and saw her go down,” airport passenger Maria Santiago said through an interpreter. “I had seen her several times throughout the morning as we waited for our flight. I had read that she was in Cuba, but it didn’t look like she was waiting to get on a plane.”

Another witness said “there was blood all over (Olsen’s) hair and face, and she was holding her arm close to her body as they took her away. She looked to be in a very dangerous condition.”

At 1:15 p.m., Cuban police stormed the terminal and distracted the hijackers long enough for sharpshooters from the Cuban Revolutionary Armed Forces to gun down the two men.

Cuba blamed the violence on U.S. policy that encourages Cubans to flee to the United States by offering them virtually automatic residency.

“The thoughtless authorities who govern the United States are responsible for these murders,” the government said Sunday afternoon in a written statement. “It adds to a long list of U.S.-perpetuated terrorist attacks that Cuba has been victim of for nearly 50 years.”

According to reports earlier this month, Olsen arrived in Cuba on June 6 with a friend who is connected with the Church of Scientology. Mary-Kate’s twin sister, Ashley Olsen, with whom Mary-Kate has appeared in numerous film and video productions, has said on various occasions that she hasn’t heard from Mary-Kate since late May.

Commonly billed as “The Olsen Twins,” Mary-Kate and Ashley began creating a massive fan base when they were 9 months old and landed the role of a single character on the television show Full House. Over the next 17 years, they starred in two video series and a string of direct-to-video films. Their film New York Minute, released in 2004, was a box-office disappointment. It was the twins’ last big-screen project together.

Also in 2004, Mary-Kate Olsen was admitted to a Utah treatment center for drug addiction and eating disorder issues. Since then, she and Ashley have focused on managing their entertainment business and developing commercial fashion products.

Ashley Olsen was in New York on Sunday but could not be reached for comment.

READ PART II: “Confirmed: Mary-Kate Olsen Dead at 22″