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Jeanna's Story
The Lives Of The TRPss'

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IN THIS STORY YOU WILL MEET JEANNA. HER STORY, (OR BIRTH) IS DIFFERENT IN IT'S DYNAMIC. A NAME IN THIS MUST BE CHANGED. (PART OF THE LAW SUIT SETTLEMENT, SHE SUED AND WON!)

February, 1983. Prudence having a great career, (she was second chair for a majr corp in Los Angeles) was finding that the internal system, (THE PEOPLE) was at a crisis. At that time, her 'hostie with the mostie' had no clue, or idea that she wasn't alone.

Prudence, being the ever avid TRP-Business person sought out a qualified therapist. Prudence hoped to avoid a costly intervention, and to preserve her career.

She found one, one who seemed most qualified, Harry W. Monty III, Ph.D. (close to, but not his REAL name)and began sessions with him. During these sessions Dr. Monty discovered the world inside. He met Prudence.

What Prudence would later discover, he not only met her, and a few others, he took it into his own hand to create one. One he would call his aphrodite. JEANNA!

He also found a way to turn Prudence into his personal 'slave', via his use of her business skills. This Dr. would bring to her office his typing, and other office work for her to do, or have done. This caused Prudence to remain stressed. A stress that was greater than even Dr. Monty could imagine. Probing through a person's mind is a dangereous game. Never know what, or WHO you will find. Using tests, and his self-created psychobabble Harry W. Monty III found a shell.

A person inside without name. A person without a job. Harry W. Monty not only gave her a name, but a job as well, one that would in the end backfire, and almost cause his death.!!!

He created, JEANNA! Now Jeanna has all of Prudence's business skills, along with skills taught to her. Skills of Aphrodite. She found herself unwittingly a willing sex toy, to be called upon at his pleasure.

Harry Monty III would not only have his cake. He intended to eat it as well. Prudence and Jeanna were never intended to meet, to share notes.............but they did, finally.

It was a warm June day. A hot commute from the office. To the therapist's office, then to home. As her schedule stated, appointment H. Monty, 6:00P.M. She drove through the Los Angeles heat and smog to the office. Her car parked, she entered the small waiting area. After a quick glance through the New Yorker magazine she was called in. "P****, Dr. Monty will see you now."

For some unknown reason, a faint wave of aprehension stirred through her. A new uncomfortable feeling. Figuring it for a simple heat fatigue, she went to his office where he waited. For some, unknown reason, a reason only Jeanna would tell of later, her stomach turned.

"So. How was your day?", the Dr. asked, a certain uncomfortable look in his eye. Or was it just that looking into his eyes was uncomfortable?

Prudence began to tell of her day. The problems with Lonergan in Philly. The problems with the LAX projects, the extra pressures. Why, she wanted to know was her paperwork over due? Never in her entire career had her 'IN' box been unemptied at the end of the day. Prudence wondered if she was losing it.

If for some reason she was losing her ability to manage her area of the corporation. An unacceptable, unthinkable thing. The always perfect Prudence unable to function in her work. NEVER!! None the less, this is what seemed to be happening. WHERE STRESS IS FOUND, ALTERS ARE ALSO. Her eyes meet Dr. Monty's eyes, frazzled she tries to look away, but cannot.......and is gone.

"My Aphrodite, how I love to see your long hair up upon your head, your sensual features, oh my......", JEANNA stepped forward to his voice. Her lover, her master, her.......?

Jeanna takes the clips from his hand, and sweeps up her hair, the way he adored it. A beauty, his beauty. Her eyes like those of a cat looked into his. Watching his eyes she was learning just what eyes could do. How hers could cause men to melt. This she had tried in town, and it worked. With a glance she could command the attention of an entire room.

"This is pleasant to your eyes?", she answered him, tossing Harry Monty a glance, and turning her head slightly, seductivly, sensually. this was all she knew. She was here, this was her chosen lover. She was his, THIS HE HAD SAID

June 23, 1983. A night to remember. Restless at home, Jeanna decides to go out. She tells the husband, "L", that she is. Dressed and ready, she takes keys and purse in hand and drives away.

Stunningly dressed in her dark purple striped dress, and maroon pumps, Jeanna gets out of her car. Her unmasked eyes, (she is the only TRP who does not need glasses)look around. Gathering in her suroundings. She walks slowly, with purpose into the small night club. Entering, she pauses, looks slowly about, scanning the room. Jeanna, spotting a stool walks over to the bar. Ordering a drink, a Mai Tai, she asks for 2 straws.

"A 3 drink limit, Jeanna", she tells herself, and removes the second straw and places it on the bar. Drink number 1. As Jeanna listens to the disco, Michael Jackson's thriller album, she is asked to dance. She takes the hand of the young man, glaring into his eyes, "It does work well!', she thinks as she enters the dance floor.

Taking the lead, being in control! I like it", she thinks to herself. The dance over, the young man buys her another drink. "2 straws please?", Jeanna asks demandingly, yet with a subtle tone. Another straw is removed and placed on the bar. "2 drinks, but why do I count them?", Jeanna wonders.

Another dance, another dance partner. "Billy Jean, is not my lover......", she listens to the Michael Jackson song with amusement. Indeed not Billy Jean, or Paula-Jean. Jeanna. The feeling of power, the feeling of command! The command! After the ordering of, and the placement of the 3rd straw on the bar a feeling, a strange controlling feeling comes upon her. She must go to the phone.

Placing her coins into the telephone she dials a telephone number, not from memory, not with intent. She dials as a robot would. 818-763-89........The voice on the other end: Harry W. Monty II, Ph.D.,

"Jeanna, yes! Do come to my home. Jeanna?", Dr. Monty asks, a question in his voice. A whispered, "Yes", comes from her throat. That is all that is said, Jeanna turns and walks from the night club, gets into her car and drives to Van Nuys, to the home of Dr. Harry W. Monty II

Jeanna walks to the door. Knocks upon it. A small door, a look-out window is opened. "Who is there?", the Dr. asks. "Jeanna", the reply comes. The door opens, Jeanna enters. This no longer feels like her own desire, her own idea. As she turns to look at the door, to exit it, Dr. Monty locks the door.

IS ALL THAT WILL BE TOLD OF THIS EVENING IN 1984.

OTHER EVENTS TOOK PLACE BETWEEN DR. MONTY AND JEANNA. ONE EVENT ALMOST TOOK HIS LIFE. JEANNA, ANGRY AND SEEING THE GAME SHE HAD BEEN FORCED TO PLAY RETURNED THAT AUGUST. A .22 IN HER HAND.

JEANNA PLAN WAS TO BE RID OF THIS LEACHING RAPIST. SHE WAS STOPED BY PAUL, (A TRP INSIDER) WHO HAD FOUND HER, AND THE PISTOL AT HIS DOOR. PAUL NOT ONLY HID THE WEAPON WELL, BUT, AS THE POLICE CAME, HE COVERED HER TRACKS. TELLING THEM THAT HE WAS LOST AND ASKING DIRECTIONS.

A LAW SUIT WAS FILED IN LOS ANGELS SUPERIOR COURT IN JUNE OF 1984. IN 1987 DR. MONTY'S INSURANCE COMPANY SETTLED THE CASE. THE INSURANCE COMPANY KNEW THAT IF THEY WENT TO COURT THEY WOULD NOT WIN.

LOCATING AN ATTORNEY WHO WOULD TAKE THE CASE WAS A TASK. THE BODY HAD GAINED A GREAT DEAL OF WEIGHT. ONE LAWYER COMENTING, "ONLY CAPT'N AHAB WITH A HARPOON WOULD CHASE YOU!"

AN ATTORNEY WAS FOUND, JIM BARKER, (SINCE PAST-AWAY) HE, AND HIS BROTHER NOT ONLY TOOK THE CASE, BUT BULLHEADEDLY, AGAINST CONVENTION WON IT.

IT IS NOT OFTEN A DEEMED "CRAZY WOMAN" IS BELIEVED, OR LISTENED TO.

EVEN IN A COURTROOM, BUT WE WERE.

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