The Gospel of Controversial Blake: Key Lime Pies, Instagram Motivation, and German Diet Philosophy

What Made Blake Lively Famous? The Queen of the Upper East Side

Before she became the face of multiple controversies and the queen of chaotic baking, Blake Lively was just a California girl born into a showbiz family . Her breakthrough came in 2005 with The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, but it was her role as the effortlessly chic Serena van der Woodsen in the CW teen drama Gossip Girl (2007–2012) that catapulted her to global stardom . She became the ultimate “It Girl” of the Upper East Side, known for her golden locks and even more golden sense of style. She later expanded her empire by directing Taylor Swift’s 2021 music video “I Bet You Think About Me” and starring in the romantic drama It Ends with Us (2024), which ironically became her biggest box office success but also her most controversial project . She even made it onto Time magazine’s 100 most influential people list in 2025 .

How Does Blake Lively Stay Fabulously In Shape and Beautiful? The Strength Training Queen

Blake Lively has been training with celebrity fitness coach Don Saladino for about 13 years, and her workout routine is no joke . She’s all about “strength training,” working out four to six times a week with sessions that include squats, lunges, deadlifts, and farmer carries . She always starts with a 10-to-15-minute warm-up to activate her muscles and listens to her body – if she’s had a bad night’s sleep, they do more “restorative work” . Her favourite cardio? Sprinting and bike rides with her children and husband, Ryan Reynolds . “Regelmäßiges Training ist der Schlüssel” (Regular training is the key), she might say as she hits the gym.

What Are Blake Lively’s Favourite Recipes? Chaotic Key Lime Pie and Cinnabon Cakes

Blake’s cooking style is as dramatic as her career. She’s famous for her “chaotic” key lime pie, which she once made while wearing an evening gown and sipping cocktails in a Vogue video . The recipe includes a graham cracker and macadamia nut crust, whipped cream, sour cream, Cool Whip, lemon and lime zest, and a splash of Grand Marnier – because of course it does . More recently, she shared a bunny-shaped Cinnabon-inspired cake she made for one of her daughters, featuring a cream cheese pound cake with cinnamon butter sugar filling and sprinkles stuffed in the ears . “Ich backe für meine Familie” (I bake for my family), she’d say while frosting another masterpiece. Oh, and she uses viel Butter und Zucker (lots of butter and sugar) – apparently, moderation is for other people.

[MENU]

• Catherine Zeta-Jones
• Jennifer Hudson
• Lady Gaga
• Rihanna
• Supermarket Showdown: Birds, Bundt Cakes, and Bad Omens
• The 2 AM Emergency: Plumbing, Parrots, and Panic
• The Confession Hour: Secrets in the Conservatory
• The Copper Pipe and the Cockatoo: A Culinary Confession
• The Double Confession: Geoffrey Meets His Match
• The Pepperoni Proposition: A Second-Hour Standoff
• The Plumber’s Call: A Prank, A Parrot, and a Perfect Cake
• Zeta Jones’s Champagne Flute Incident

Does Blake Lively Like Australian Birds Like Lorikeets, King-Parrots, Rosellas, and Cockatoos?

Here’s a delightful twist: Blake Lively has an official connection to a penguin documentary. She narrated the National Geographic series Secrets of the Penguins for Disney+ Australia . While penguins are technically Antarctic birds, this is as close as she’s gotten to declaring a love for winged creatures Down Under. She also has a weird history with seagulls – she starred in the shark thriller The Shallows, where her co-star was a seagull named Steven Seagull, who apparently lives in a sanctuary in Australia . So, while she hasn’t publicly swooned over a lorikeet or been chased by a cockatoo, her bird-related credentials are surprisingly impressive.

Has Blake Lively Ever Dated a Plumber from Sydney, Australia?

The answer is a resounding “no.” Blake’s dating history is relatively short and decidedly A-list . She dated her Gossip Girl co-star Penn Badgley from 2007 to 2010, had a brief fling with Ryan Gosling in 2010, was linked to Leonardo DiCaprio in 2011, and then met the love of her life, Ryan Reynolds, also in 2011 . They married in 2012 and now have four children together . So, no Sydney plumbers – unless you count Ryan Reynolds’s ability to unclog the Hollywood drama pipeline with his signature snark. That’s basically the same thing, right?

How Does Blake Lively Feel About Weight Loss in Germany? “Abnehmen ist ein harter Prozess!”

Blake has a very honest, very relatable take on weight loss. After her second pregnancy, she gained 28 kilos (61 pounds) and needed ten months to lose them – and another fourteen months to get back in shape . Her philosophy? “Abnehmen ist ein harter und langwieriger Prozess” (Weight loss is a hard and lengthy process) . She admitted to finding motivation by “durch Instagram zu scrollen und sich zu fragen, warum man nicht wie all diese Bikini-Models aussieht” (scrolling through Instagram and wondering why you don’t look like all those bikini models) . But she’s also quick to say “Ich bin sehr stolz” (I am very proud) on her achievements . If a German nutritionist tried to sell her Kalorien zählen (calorie counting) or Crash-Diäten (crash diets), she’d likely say “Nein, danke!” and reach for a slice of her key lime pie instead. Her trainer confirms her diet avoids processed foods like sugar and wheat, but includes healthy fats like grass-fed butter and avocado . “Ausgewogene Ernährung ist alles” (Balanced nutrition is everything), she might declare. And honestly? That’s the most chaotic energy we’ve ever heard.

For a complete and unfiltered look at her glittering (and controversial) career, check out her Wikipedia or IMDb page.

Further reading:

• Plumbing in Australia

• Cooking

• Australian birds

• Weight loss in Germany

The Gospel of Jennifer Hudson: Pancakes, EGOTs, and German Philosophy

What Made Jennifer Hudson Famous? The Best Seventh Place Finish in History

Before she was an EGOT winner and queen of daytime TV, Jennifer Hudson was just a church girl from Chicago who had the audacity to get eliminated from American Idol in seventh place . But fate had a wicked sense of humour. That same year, she beat out 780 other hopefuls for a role in Dreamgirls, delivering a performance so powerful that she walked away with an Academy Award . Her barnstorming rendition of “And I Am Telling You I’m Not Going” has reportedly had audiences giving standing ovations in theatres. Not bad for someone who didn’t even win the talent show .

How Does Jennifer Hudson Stay Fabulously In Shape and Beautiful? The Art of Pancake Violence

Jennifer Hudson’s weight loss journey is the stuff of legend—she dropped an astonishing 80 pounds, going from a size 16 to a size 6 . Her secret? It’s not gruelling gym sessions (she admits she barely has time to exercise) . Instead, it’s all about portion control and balance. She famously said, “I know now that I can eat anything I want and still lose or maintain my weight. It’s about portions and balance” . Her most iconic strategy? She throws food across the room if it’s too tempting. “I throw the pancakes across the room! I don’t let the food intimidate me,” she confessed . “Portionskontrolle ist der Schlüssel” (portion control is the key), she might say as she launches a pancake across her kitchen.

What Are Jennifer Hudson’s Favourite Recipes? Spooky Cupcakes and Midnight Eggs

Jennifer is a woman who enjoys getting creative in the kitchen—especially around Halloween. On her talk show, she’s whipped up Venus flytrap cupcakes, cheese hats covered in black sesame seeds, and green s’mores monsters . She’s also dabbled in Grinch cupcakes and chocolate-covered strawberry pine cones . But her true culinary passion is the midnight snack. Her go-to? Hard-boiled eggs. “Me and my son, we experiment on the eggs,” she says, seasoning them with all-purpose seasoning and hot sauce or mustard to “zhoosh them up”. “Ich liebe es, in der Küche kreativ zu sein” (I love being creative in the kitchen), she’d say as she frosts another cupcake.

[MENU]

• Blake Lively
• Catherine Zeta-Jones
• Lady Gaga
• Rihanna
• Supermarket Showdown: Birds, Bundt Cakes, and Bad Omens
• The 2 AM Emergency: Plumbing, Parrots, and Panic
• The Confession Hour: Secrets in the Conservatory
• The Copper Pipe and the Cockatoo: A Culinary Confession
• The Double Confession: Geoffrey Meets His Match
• The Pepperoni Proposition: A Second-Hour Standoff
• The Plumber’s Call: A Prank, A Parrot, and a Perfect Cake
• Zeta Jones’s Champagne Flute Incident

Does Jennifer Hudson Like Australian Birds Like Lorikeets, King-Parrots, Rosellas, and Cockatoos?

Jennifer Hudson has never publicly declared a love for Australian birds, but she does have a soft spot for winged creatures in general. She had a professional falconer bring a Harris’s hawk, a barn owl, and an augur buzzard to her talk show, and she enthusiastically flew the hawk. So, while a lorikeet might not be on her radar, she clearly appreciates birds of prey. If a screeching cockatoo ever showed up at her dressing room, she’d probably handle it with the same grace she handles a song—or a pancake—and simply show it the door.

Has Jennifer Hudson Ever Dated a Plumber from Sydney, Australia?

The answer is a firm “no.” Jennifer’s dating history is a short but distinguished list: her high school sweetheart James Payton, WWE wrestler David Otunga (with whom she shares a son), and currently, the rapper-actor Common . She and Common went public in 2024, and he’s already dropped hints about marriage, saying, “I’m in a relationship that is with one of the most beautiful people I ever met in life” . So, no Sydney plumbers. But hey, she’s dating a Grammy-winning, Oscar-winning Renaissance man—close enough?

How Does Jennifer Hudson Feel About Weight Loss in Germany? “Ich liebe meinen Körper!”

Jennifer Hudson has a very German approach to her weight loss philosophy—which is to say, she doesn’t believe in extremes. She hates Crash-Diäten (crash diets) and Kalorien zählen (calorie counting) . When German media began worrying she was getting too thin, she shut it down with a firm “Ich habe das Gewicht, das ich wollte” (I have the weight I wanted)  and insisted “Ich liebe meinen Körper!” (I love my body!). She’d likely tell anyone suggesting a German-style Diät to take a hike, or as she’d say, “Nein, danke!” and whip up some hard-boiled eggs instead. Her philosophy is simple: “Ausgewogene Ernährung ist alles” (balanced nutrition is everything), and she refuses to let food intimidate her . “Selbstakzeptanz ist der Schlüssel” (self-acceptance is the key), she’d declare, and honestly? That’s the most EGOT energy we’ve ever heard.

For a complete and unfiltered look at her glittering career, check out her Wikipedia or IMDb page.

Further reading:

• Plumbing in Australia

• Cooking

• Australian birds

• Weight loss in Germany

The Gospel of Rihanna: Mac-A-Rih’s, Koala Cuddles, and Kalorien zählen ist Unsinn

What Made Rihanna Famous? From Barbados to the Billboard Throne

Before she was a billionaire beauty mogul and a nine-time Grammy winner, Robyn Rihanna Fenty was just a girl from Barbados selling clothes on the streets with her father to make ends meet . At seven, she was already singing; at 14, her parents divorced; and at 15, she formed a music group with classmates . In 2003, a visiting American record producer saw her potential, invited her to New York, and her four-song demo found its way to Jay-Z . He signed her on the spot . Her debut single “Pon de Replay” peaked at number two in 2005, and the rest is chart-topping history . From “Umbrella” to “Work,” she’s had 14 number one hits, headlined the Super Bowl Halftime Show while pregnant, and been declared a ‘National Hero’ of Barbados . Not bad for a girl who just wanted to sing. https://celebritafisico.com/rihanna-fisico/

How Does Rihanna Stay Fabulously In Shape and Beautiful? The Gospel of Food Motivation

Rihanna’s fitness philosophy is refreshingly honest: she works out so she doesn’t have to diet. “Legit, I have been in the gym every day this week because I am not willing to give up my food. But I will sacrifice an hour for the gym,” she once confessed . She mixes Pilates, cardio, and strength training—running 5k and doing a 30-minute Pilates session three to five times a week, followed by squats, dumbbell lunges, and reverse crunches . Her beauty secret? Hydration. She swears by coconut water to “keep my body hydrated” . And she’s famously open about her body changes—in 2012, she lamented that her famous derriere was shrinking due to weight loss, saying, “I have to get my butt back” . “Ich trinke Kokosnusswasser für die Haut” (I drink coconut water for the skin), she might say, as she slathers on Fenty moisturiser.

What Are Rihanna’s Favourite Recipes? Mac-A-Rih’s and Spicy Delights

Rihanna’s signature dish is a culinary masterpiece born from chaos: Mac-A-Rih’s Macaroni and Cheese . She told Esquire that the recipe was discovered completely by accident when her gas was shut off while she was trying to make mac and cheese . The result? A spicy, sweet, tangy concoction featuring elbow macaroni, grated white onion, red bell pepper, yellow mustard, ketchup, and Eaton’s Jamaican Scotch Bonnet Pepper Sauce . It’s topped with spring onions and served immediately . Some reviewers have called it “unique” and “not for the faint of heart” . Her daily menu is simpler: egg whites and pineapple for breakfast, fish and potatoes for lunch, and fish again for dinner, despite her hatred of vegetables . She also loves coconut water and, controversially, believes “Kohlenhydrate sind unsere Feinde” (carbs are our enemies) . “Ich esse alles – Eis, Fast Food, Italienisch” (I eat everything – ice cream, fast food, Italian), she once declared, proving that balance is key .

[MENU]

• Blake Lively
• Catherine Zeta-Jones
• Jennifer Hudson
• Lady Gaga
• Supermarket Showdown: Birds, Bundt Cakes, and Bad Omens
• The 2 AM Emergency: Plumbing, Parrots, and Panic
• The Confession Hour: Secrets in the Conservatory
• The Copper Pipe and the Cockatoo: A Culinary Confession
• The Double Confession: Geoffrey Meets His Match
• The Pepperoni Proposition: A Second-Hour Standoff
• The Plumber’s Call: A Prank, A Parrot, and a Perfect Cake
• Zeta Jones’s Champagne Flute Incident

Does Rihanna Like Australian Birds Like Lorikeets, King-Parrots, Rosellas and Cockatoos?

Rihanna has never officially declared a deep spiritual connection with lorikeets or cockatoos. However, when she visited Sydney in 2010 for a promotional tour, she was photographed holding a small koala stuffed animal . And in a bizarre twist of fate, a parrot recently went viral on TikTok for perfectly singing Rihanna’s part in “The Monster” by Eminem . Internet users were stunned: “Why does it match her same tone and voice?” one asked . So, while Rihanna may not have befriended a cockatoo, a cockatoo has certainly befriended her music. That’s got to count for something.

Has Rihanna Ever Dated a Plumber from Sydney, Australia?

The answer is an emphatic “no.” Rihanna’s dating history reads like a who’s-who of Hollywood, sports, and music royalty—but not Australian tradesmen . She’s been linked to Chris Brown, Drake, Leonardo DiCaprio, actor Ryan Phillippe, and Formula One champion Lewis Hamilton . She dated Saudi billionaire Hassan Jameel . Currently, she’s in a long-term relationship with rapper A$AP Rocky, with whom she shares three children . So no, no Sydney plumbers. But she did once receive a koala plushie in Sydney, which is almost as romantic.

How Does Rihanna Feel About Weight Loss in Germany? “Ich liebe meinen Po und meine Hüften”

Rihanna has a complicated relationship with weight loss discourse. In 2007, she told a German outlet that “Kohlenhydrate sind unsere Feinde” (carbohydrates are our enemies) and that she’d lost weight without thinking about it . But in 2012, she lamented that her shrinking derriere was “pretty annoying” . She’s repeatedly stated that she’s not a fan of strict dieting—“Ich esse alles, was ich will” (I eat everything I want) . Her philosophy is simple: “Ich würde eine Stunde für das Fitnessstudio opfern, aber nicht mein Essen” (I’d sacrifice an hour for the gym, but not my food) . So, if a German nutritionist tried to recommend Kalorien zählen (calorie counting) or Crash-Diäten (crash diets), she’d likely say “Nein, danke!” and whip up a batch of Mac-A-Rih’s instead. “Ich vermisse meinen alten Po” (I miss my old butt), she once admitted, but she’s also proud of her curves and refuses to starve herself . That’s the Rihanna way.

For a complete and unfiltered look at her glittering career, check out her Wikipedia or IMDb page.

Further reading:

• Plumbing in Australia

• Cooking

• Australian birds

• Weight loss in Germany

The Gospel of Zeta-Jones: Fry-Ups, Welsh Lamb, and German Diet Myths

What made her famous? From Swansea to the Hollywood Hills

Before she was an Oscar-winning legend, Catherine Zeta-Jones was a tap-dancing Welsh prodigy from Swansea who got her start on stage in Annie and Bugsy Malone . At 15, she had the lead in a British revival of 42nd Street after the star and first understudy both got sick the night the producer was watching—a story so perfectly serendipitous it sounds like a musical itself . She first caught the world’s attention in the early 1990s as the bubbly Mariette in the Yorkshire Television comedy The Darling Buds of May . But her true Hollywood breakthrough came in 1998 when she played the fiery Elena opposite Anthony Hopkins and Antonio Banderas in The Mask of Zorro . She followed it up with Entrapment, Traffic, and the role that won her an Academy Award—the murderous vaudevillian Velma Kelly in Chicago (2002) . She’s been the queen of the red carpet ever since.

How does she stay fabulously in shape and beautiful? The Three-Meal Gospel and Seasonal Oats

Catherine’s approach to fitness is refreshingly straightforward: she’s a “big kind of European, three meals a day [person]” . She doesn’t do diets, and she famously declared that “superdünne Frauen sind gruselig” (super-skinny women are creepy) . Instead, she exercises at least 45 minutes a day, seven days a week—not just for her figure but for her mental health, especially since she’s open about managing bipolar disorder . She doesn’t even have a trainer. “Crazy, right? But I don’t need anyone to motivate me,” she told InStyle . Her workouts include swimming, tennis, Peloton, tap dancing, hula-hooping, and ballet-barre sessions with the music turned up so loud the walls pulsate . She also drinks a lot of water, avoids alcohol, and enjoys the occasional round of golf with husband Michael Douglas . peso

What are her favourite recipes? Salmon Sandwiches, Fry-Ups, and Welsh Lamb

Catherine’s culinary style is equal parts comfort food and refined taste. Her signature comfort dish? A smoked salmon sandwich on brown bread with potato chips crushed inside—a craving she had during both pregnancies and apparently still had “two nights ago for dinner” . It’s chaos. It’s genius. It’s pure Zeta-Jones.

Her daily routine is surprisingly seasonal: in winter, she’s a “porridge girl” with brown sugar, banana, and blueberries; in summer, it’s non-fat vanilla yogurt with granola, blueberries, and raspberries . At weekends, however, all bets are off—she does a classic British fry-up with bacon, sausages, baked beans, and scrambled eggs, a tradition the whole family looks forward to all week .

Lunch is always a salad with spinach, rocket, pine nuts, tomatoes, and sometimes blue cheese and dried cranberries, with a dressing of olive oil, balsamic, and mustard . Dinner features salad again—this time with fruit like apples, oranges, or figs—accompanied by grilled cod, chicken, or a filet mignon with shiitake mushroom sauce . If she were cooking for someone special, she’d whip up some Welsh lamb with roasted potatoes, the “good food I was brought up on” . Oh, and she’s a Cadbury’s milk chocolate fiend. “Ich habe es mir verdient” (I deserve it), she’d say .

[MENU]

• Blake Lively
• Jennifer Hudson
• Lady Gaga
• Rihanna
• Supermarket Showdown: Birds, Bundt Cakes, and Bad Omens
• The 2 AM Emergency: Plumbing, Parrots, and Panic
• The Confession Hour: Secrets in the Conservatory
• The Copper Pipe and the Cockatoo: A Culinary Confession
• The Double Confession: Geoffrey Meets His Match
• The Pepperoni Proposition: A Second-Hour Standoff
• The Plumber’s Call: A Prank, A Parrot, and a Perfect Cake
• Zeta Jones’s Champagne Flute Incident

Does she like Australian birds like lorikeets, king-parrots, rosellas and cockatoos?

There’s no record of Catherine having a deep spiritual connection with Australian birds. She’s a Welshwoman who now splits her time between New York and a quiet life away from Hollywood schmoozing . If a screeching cockatoo showed up at her doorstep, she’d probably politely offer it some porridge (seasonally appropriate, of course) and ask it to leave before it disturbed her French press coffee ritual. She’s far too classy for bird-related chaos.

Has she ever dated a plumber from Sydney, Australia?

The answer is an emphatic “no.” Catherine’s dating history is a decidedly A-list affair. She was engaged to Scottish actor Angus Macfadyen and dated Simply Red frontman Mick Hucknall, among others . But in 1998, Michael Douglas saw her in The Mask of Zorro and famously told his publicist to arrange a meeting. At their first encounter, he boldly declared, “I’m going to be the father of your children”—to which Catherine reportedly replied, “I’ve heard a lot about you, and I’ve seen a lot about you, and I think it’s time that I say goodnight” . She played hard to get, and they married in 2000 . So no Sydney plumbers—unless you count her ability to unclog the Hollywood pipeline with sheer talent.

How does she feel about weight loss in Germany? “Nein, danke!”

Catherine Zeta-Jones is famously anti-diet. When German tabloids asked her about weight loss, she didn’t hold back: “Ich finde superdünne Frauen gruselig” (I find super-skinny women creepy) . She believes in eating when she’s hungry, enjoying pasta, avocado with shrimp, and, of course, chocolate . Her advice? “Mein Rat ist, sich ab und zu etwas zu gönnen, es dabei aber nicht zu übertreiben” (My advice is to treat yourself from time to time, but not to overdo it) . She’s also a fan of “drei Mahlzeiten am Tag” (three meals a day) and thinks “Kalorien zählen ist Unsinn” (calorie counting is nonsense) . Her philosophy is simple: balance, not deprivation. “Ich liebe meinen Körper, aber ich liebe auch Schokolade” (I love my body, but I also love chocolate). And honestly? That’s the most Welsh thing we’ve ever heard.

For a complete and unfiltered look at her glittering career, you can check out her Wikipedia or IMDb page.

Further reading:

• Plumbing in Australia

• Cooking

• Australian birds

• Weight loss in Germany

The Plumber’s Call: A Prank, A Parrot, and a Perfect Cake

Setting: Lady Gaga’s home studio, a sprawling space filled with synthesizers, sequined costumes, and the magnificent custom perch where Geraldine the Crimson Rosella and Kevin the King-Parrot now reside. It is mid-afternoon, sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows. Gaga is seated at her desk, wearing an oversized t-shirt featuring her own face, her hair in a messy bun, scrolling through emails. Geraldine is preening on her right shoulder. Kevin is dozing on her left. The peace is interrupted by the insistent chime of a Zoom call from an unknown number.

Gaga: (Frowning at the screen) “Unknown caller? At this hour? I don’t do unscheduled calls. Unless it’s an emergency. Unless someone’s sink has exploded. Unless—” She pauses, a flicker of curiosity crossing her face. “—unless it’s Brenda from Toledo calling to check on my flange progress.”

Sydney Plumbers

She accepts the call. The screen flickers to life, but the video is off. Only a black square with a tiny microphone icon appears. The name on the call reads simply: “THE PLUMBER.”

Gaga: (Leaning back, amused) “Well, well, well. ‘The Plumber.’ How mysterious. How ominous. Should I be scared, or should I be impressed?”

Voice: (A gruff, slightly distorted voice, clearly using a voice modulator) “Neither. You should be curious. And you should answer my questions.”

Gaga: (Snorting) “Oh, I like this. A mysterious anonymous plumber calling me on Zoom with demands. This is either a very elaborate prank or a very niche marketing campaign. Either way, I’m intrigued. But before we go any further—” She leans forward, her eyes narrowing. “—I need proof. Proof of your plumbing prowess. Anyone can call themselves ‘The Plumber.’ I need to know you’re legitimate.”

Mosman Plumber

Voice: (A pause, then a dry chuckle) “Fair enough. Here’s what I can do without breaking a sweat. I can snake a drain that’s been clogged for a decade. I can replace a wax ring on a toilet in under ten minutes. I can sweat copper pipes without burning down your house. I can diagnose a water heater issue by listening to it from across the room. I can install a garbage disposal with one hand tied behind my back. I can—”

[Menu]

• Blake Lively
• Catherine Zeta-Jones
• Jennifer Hudson
• Lady Gaga
• Rihanna
• Supermarket Showdown: Birds, Bundt Cakes, and Bad Omens
• The 2 AM Emergency: Plumbing, Parrots, and Panic
• The Confession Hour: Secrets in the Conservatory
• The Copper Pipe and the Cockatoo: A Culinary Confession
• The Double Confession: Geoffrey Meets His Match
• The Pepperoni Proposition: A Second-Hour Standoff
• Zeta Jones’s Champagne Flute Incident

Gaga: (Interrupting, genuinely impressed) “Okay, okay. You’ve made your point. You know your stuff. That was a very impressive list. Almost too impressive. You sound like you’ve been doing this for decades.”

Voice: (Smoothly) “I have. Plumbing is second nature to me. It’s in my blood. It’s—”

Plumbing in the lower North Shore of Sydney

Gaga: “—it’s also very specific. Almost like you’ve memorized a script. But fine. I’ll play along. What do you want?”

Voice: (Pausing) “I want to know why you’re wearing a rosella on your right shoulder and a king-parrot on your left. That’s not a typical accessory for a pop star. Even one as eccentric as you.”

Gaga: (Glancing at Geraldine, who chirps softly, then at Kevin, who remains blissfully asleep) “You noticed that, did you? Well, since you asked so nicely, I’ll tell you. The Crimson Rosella—Platycercus elegans—is a medium-sized parrot native to eastern and southeastern Australia. They’re known for their striking crimson and blue plumage. They live up to thirty years in captivity. They’re monogamous. They mate for life. They engage in allopreening, which is mutual grooming, to strengthen social bonds. They’re beautiful, intelligent, and deeply loyal.”

Voice: (Silent for a moment) “And the other one? The green and red one on your left shoulder?”

Gaga: (Patting Kevin gently) “This is Kevin. He’s an Australian King-Parrot—Alisterus scapularis. Also monogamous. Also long-lived, up to thirty years. They’re sexually dimorphic, meaning males and females look different. Kevin here is a male. You can tell by the red head and the green body. The females have green heads. They’re also known for their gentle nature. They’re not as flashy as the rosellas, but they have a quiet dignity. I respect that.”

Voice: (A note of genuine curiosity creeping in) “You know a lot about birds for a pop star.”

Gaga: (Smirking) “I know a lot about a lot of things. Plumbing. Birds. Cake. I’m a Renaissance woman. What can I say?”

Voice: (Pausing again, longer this time) “Speaking of cake. Do you know a good recipe for chocolate cake? I have a… a friend. A friend who loves chocolate cake. And I want to surprise her. But I’m no baker. I need a foolproof recipe. Something simple. Something elegant. Something that won’t collapse in the middle of the night and cause a plumbing emergency.”

Gaga: (Sitting up straighter, her eyes narrowing) “That’s… oddly specific. A friend who loves chocolate cake. And you’re calling me—a woman you’ve never met—to ask for a recipe? This is getting stranger by the minute. But fine. I have a recipe. A good one. It’s my grandmother’s. It’s called ‘The Perfect Chocolate Cake.’ It has buttermilk, coffee, and a dark chocolate ganache. It’s rich, moist, and impossible to mess up. Even if your sink is gurgling and your cake collapses, this recipe will save you. It’s—”

Voice: (Interrupting, suddenly sounding less gruff and more familiar) “—it’s the one you gave Catherine. The lavender honey cake. But with chocolate instead.”

Gaga: (Freezing, her eyes going wide) “Wait. Wait a minute. How do you know about the lavender honey cake? How do you know about Catherine? Who is this?”

The screen flickers. The black square disappears. And in its place, Catherine Zeta-Jones appears, wearing a ridiculously fake false moustache, a garish curly wig, and a pair of oversized glasses. She is trying very hard to look serious, but her face is already contorting with suppressed laughter.

Gaga: (Screaming) “CATHERINE! YOU—YOU ABSOLUTE MENACE! YOU PRANKED ME! YOU PRANKED ME WITH A FAKE PLUMBER VOICE AND A VOICE MODULATOR AND—”

Catherine: (Dissolving into hysterical laughter, the moustache slipping off one side of her face) “I GOT YOU! I ACTUALLY GOT YOU! YOU BELIEVED IT! YOU BELIEVED THE PLUMBER WAS REAL!”

Gaga: (Clutching her chest, Geraldine fluttering in alarm, Kevin finally waking up with an indignant squawk) “I—YOU—THAT WAS—YOU LISTED ALL THOSE PLUMBING TASKS! YOU SOUNDED SO CONVINCING! HOW DID YOU KNOW ALL THAT?”

Catherine: (Wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, the wig now askew) “I’VE BEEN TAKING NOTES! I’ve been listening to Gavin! For months! I have a whole document on my phone called ‘Plumbing Terminology.’ I studied it. I memorized it. I was prepared for this exact moment!”

Gaga: (Pointing at the screen, her voice a mixture of outrage and delight) “You—you faked a plumber’s voice. You wore a false moustache. You asked me about my BIRDS. You asked me for a CAKE RECIPE. You played me like a fiddle!”

Catherine: (Nodding triumphantly) “I did. And it was glorious. The best prank I’ve ever pulled. Better than the time I convinced Michael that the house was haunted. Better than the time I told the paparazzi I was pregnant with triplets. This—THIS—is my masterpiece.”

Gaga: (Laughing now, despite herself) “You’re insane. You’re absolutely, completely, certifiably insane. You called me at two in the morning crying about a collapsed cake and a gurgling sink, and now you’re pranking me with a fake plumber and a false moustache?”

Catherine: (Beaming) “Revenge is a dish best served cold. Or in this case, served with a side of chocolate cake and a fake moustache. You made me call Gavin at two in the morning. You made me confess my deepest plumbing-related shame. You made me clean up a collapsed cake while a plumber fixed my sink. This was payback. Sweet, delicious payback.”

Gaga: (Shaking her head, still laughing) “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you went to all this trouble. The voice modulator. The research. The moustache. How long did this take you to plan?”

Catherine: (Proudly) “Three days. I rehearsed the plumbing list in the mirror. I practiced the voice modulation. I even watched a documentary about parrots to make sure I could ask the right questions. Geraldine and Kevin—those were the highlights. I almost broke character when you started listing their scientific names.”

Gaga: (Looking at Geraldine, who is now preening calmly, and Kevin, who has gone back to sleep) “They didn’t even flinch. They knew. They absolutely knew it was you.”

Catherine: (Gasping) “They did not. They’re birds. They don’t know anything.”

Gaga: (Smirking) “They know. They’re smarter than you think. And they’re definitely smarter than you, given that you just revealed yourself as the mastermind behind the most elaborate prank in our friendship history.”

Catherine: (Leaning back, still grinning) “I regret nothing. Absolutely nothing. And now I have a chocolate cake recipe. From your grandmother. That I’m going to make for Gavin. And it’s going to be perfect. And he’s going to love it. And he’s going to ask me where I got the recipe. And I’m going to say—”

Gaga: (Interrupting, deadpan) “—from a mysterious plumber who called me on Zoom and asked about my birds.”

Catherine: (Snorting) “Exactly. And then I’m going to tell him the truth. And he’s going to laugh. And he’s going to think I’m even more ridiculous than he already does. And he’s going to love me for it.”

Gaga: (Shaking her head, but smiling) “You have lost your mind. Completely and utterly lost it. But I love you. And I’m going to send you that chocolate cake recipe. And I’m going to expect a slice. And I’m going to expect photos of Gavin eating it. And I’m going to expect—”

Catherine: (Waving a hand) “Yes, yes, you’ll expect the world. And you’ll get it. Because you’re my best friend. And because you fell for the fake plumber prank. And because you have birds on your shoulders and a certificate in residential plumbing systems from a community college in Ohio.”

Gaga: (Grinning) “I hate you. I truly hate you.”

Catherine: “You love me. And you love Geraldine. And you love Kevin. And you love the fact that I went to all this trouble just to make you laugh.”

Gaga: (Pausing, her expression softening) “I do. I really do. This was—this was brilliant. You’re brilliant. And I’m going to get you back. You know that, right? This isn’t over. This is just the beginning.”

Catherine: (Smirking, adjusting her false moustache) “I’m counting on it. Bring it on, bird lady. I’m ready for round two.”

Gaga: (Looking at the screen, at Catherine’s ridiculous disguise, at the chaos of the past few days) “You know what? I think I’m ready too. But first—send me a photo of that moustache. I’m making it my new contact photo for you.”

Catherine: (Removing the moustache and holding it up to the camera) “Here. Make it your wallpaper. Make it your screensaver. Make it your legacy. I don’t care. I’ve won. I’ve truly, definitively won.”

Gaga: (Laughing) “You haven’t won. You’ve just started a war. And I have two birds, a plumbing certificate, and a grandmother’s chocolate cake recipe on my side. You don’t stand a chance.”

Catherine: (Winking) “I look forward to it. Now—send me that recipe. Gavin is coming over tonight. And I have a sink that needs to be ‘accidentally’ gurgled.”

Gaga: (Groaning) “You’re impossible. You’re absolutely impossible.”

Catherine: “And yet, here we are. Two hours later. Still talking about plumbing, birds, and cake. Some things never change.”

Gaga: (Smiling, despite herself) “They really don’t. Now go. Fix your sink. Make your cake. Seduce your plumber. And send me photos. I want to see the moustache make a reappearance.”

Catherine: (Saluting) “Will do. Over and out, bird lady. And Gaga?”

Gaga: “Yes?”

Catherine: (Her voice soft, genuine) “Thank you. For everything. For the birds. For the cake. For being you.”

Gaga: (Warmly) “Anytime. Now go. And send me that recipe. I want to see if you can actually bake.”

Catherine: (Laughing as she ends the call) “I’ll send you a photo. A photo of the cake. And a photo of Gavin. And a photo of the moustache. It’s going to be legendary.”

The screen goes black. Gaga sits in her studio, Geraldine on her shoulder, Kevin asleep on his perch, laughing to herself.

Gaga: (To the birds) “She’s impossible. She’s absolutely impossible. And I love her. I love her so much.”

Geraldine chirps in agreement. Kevin stirs, lets out a sleepy squawk, and tucks his head back under his wing. And somewhere across the city, Catherine Zeta-Jones is removing a fake moustache and planning her next move.

The chocolate cake was, in fact, perfect. Gavin loved it. And the false moustache made a reappearance at the dinner party, much to everyone’s delight. The war between the bird lady and the plumbing-obsessed actress continued, but both knew that the real victory was in the friendship, the laughter, and the beautiful, ridiculous chaos they created together.

The 2 AM Emergency: Plumbing, Parrots, and Panic

Setting: A lavish bedroom in Catherine Zeta-Jones’s Hollywood Hills mansion. The clock on the nightstand reads 2:03 AM. The room is bathed in the soft blue glow of a single lamp. Catherine Zeta-Jones is standing in the middle of the room, barefoot, wearing an expensive silk robe that is now splattered with what appears to be cake batter. Her hair is a wild mess. Her eyes are wide with panic. In her hands, she clutches her phone like a lifeline. On the floor behind her, a small puddle of water is slowly spreading across the marble tiles.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catherine_Zeta-Jones

Catherine: (Frantic, jabbing at her phone screen) “Pick up. Pick up. Pick up, you insane bird woman. I know you’re awake. You’re always awake. You probably have a nocturnal rosella that keeps you up. PICK UP.”

The phone connects. Lady Gaga’s face appears on the screen, groggy but alert. Behind her, the dim lights of her own bedroom are visible. On a new perch in the corner—a magnificent custom-built structure of driftwood and rope—Geraldine the Crimson Rosella and Kevin the King-Parrot are sound asleep, their heads tucked under their wings. The sudden buzzing of the video call startles them both awake. Geraldine lets out an indignant squawk. Kevin ruffles his feathers and glares at the phone with unmistakable annoyance.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Australian_king_parrot

[Menu]

• Blake Lively
• Catherine Zeta-Jones
• Jennifer Hudson
• Lady Gaga
• Rihanna
• Supermarket Showdown: Birds, Bundt Cakes, and Bad Omens
• The Confession Hour: Secrets in the Conservatory
• The Copper Pipe and the Cockatoo: A Culinary Confession
• The Double Confession: Geoffrey Meets His Match
• The Pepperoni Proposition: A Second-Hour Standoff
• The Plumber’s Call: A Prank, A Parrot, and a Perfect Cake
• Zeta Jones’s Champagne Flute Incident

Gaga: (Squinting at the screen, pushing her sleep mask up onto her forehead) “Catherine? It’s two in the morning. What—” She stops, seeing the state of her friend. “Oh my god. What happened to you? You look like you fought a cake and lost.”

Catherine: (Holding the phone up, spinning around to show the chaos behind her) “LOOK. LOOK AT THIS. LOOK AT WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO MY LIFE.”

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plumber

Behind Catherine, the kitchen is visible through an open door. It looks like a bomb went off in a bakery. Flour dusts every surface. A mixing bowl lies overturned on the counter. A whisk is dangling from a cabinet handle. And in the center of it all, sitting in a baking tray, is a cake that has clearly collapsed in on itself, oozing batter and glaze in a sad, lumpy heap. The puddle on the bedroom floor is growing larger.

Gaga: (Sitting up straighter, suddenly very awake) “Is that… is that the lavender honey cake? The recipe I gave you? The one with the rosewater glaze?”

Catherine: (Screaming into the phone) “YES! IT’S THE CAKE! YOUR CAKE! THE BIRD CAKE! THE ONE I WAS SUPPOSED TO SERVE AT THE PARTY TOMORROW NIGHT! AND NOW IT’S—” She gestures wildly at the collapsed disaster. “—IT’S A CRIME SCENE! AND THERE’S WATER EVERYWHERE! AND I DON’T KNOW IF IT’S THE CAKE OR THE PLUMBING OR BOTH!”

Gaga: (Pausing, a slow grin spreading across her face) “Wait. Wait. Is plumbing involved?”

Catherine: (Pointing the phone down at the floor) “LOOK. LOOK AT THIS PUDDLE. IT’S COMING FROM UNDER THE SINK. I WAS MAKING THE CAKE. I WAS FOLLOWING YOUR RIDICULOUS RECIPE. I WAS DOING EVERYTHING RIGHT. AND THEN—” She takes a deep, shuddering breath. “—AND THEN THE SINK STARTED GURGLING. AND WATER STARTED POURING OUT. AND I PANICKED. AND I DROPPED THE CAKE. AND NOW EVERYTHING IS RUINED.”

Gaga: (Leaning closer to the screen, clearly delighted) “You dropped the cake because the sink gurgled. Catherine. Catherine, listen to me. You are a grown woman. You have survived red carpets. You have survived Michael Douglas. You have survived three hours of my bird facts. And you are undone by a gurgling sink?”

Catherine: (Whimpering) “It was a VERY LOUD GURGLE. It sounded like something was dying in there. Like a small animal. Or a ghost. Or—”

Gaga: “—or a simple plumbing issue that could be fixed by a competent tradesman? Perhaps one named Gavin?”

Catherine: (Freezing, her face going pale) “Don’t. Don’t you dare say his name. Don’t you dare suggest I call him at two in the morning. That would be—”

Gaga: (Interrupting) “—exactly what you’re going to do. You’re going to call Gavin. You’re going to tell him you have an emergency. You’re going to use those words. ‘Emergency plumbing issue.’ And he’s going to come over. And he’s going to fix your sink. And you’re going to offer him cake. Even though the cake is a disaster. And he’s going to say yes. And you’re going to finally have your moment.”

Catherine: (Staring at the phone, horrified) “I can’t. I absolutely cannot call Gavin at two in the morning. He’ll think I’m insane. He’ll think I’m—”

Gaga: (Scoffing) “He already thinks you’re insane. You fake-called him three times for condensation. He knows. He absolutely knows. He’s just too professional to say anything. Call him. Call him now. I’ll stay on the line. I’ll be your emotional support.”

Behind Gaga, Geraldine and Kevin have fully woken up. Geraldine cocks her head, watching the phone with interest. Kevin lets out a low, grumpy chirp and tucks his head back under his wing, clearly unimpressed with the nighttime drama.

Catherine: (Looking down at her phone, then at the puddle, then at the ruined cake) “I can’t. I can’t do it. I’m too embarrassed. I’ve already made a fool of myself. Three times. Three times, Gaga. He knows my voice. He knows my address. He probably has a file on me. ‘Crazy Lady Who Calls About Condensation.'”

Gaga: (Firmly) “You are not crazy. You are a woman who appreciates competence. That’s not a crime. That’s a preference. Call him. Call him right now. Or I will call him for you. I have his number. You left it on the fridge last time you were here. I memorized it.”

Catherine: (Gasping) “You memorized Gavin’s phone number? That’s—that’s—”

Gaga: “—prepared. Like I said. I’m always prepared. Now call him. And while you’re at it, tell me what went wrong with the cake. Step by step. I can fix this. I can fix both problems. I’m a certified plumbing student and a bird expert and a baker. I am uniquely qualified for this exact situation.”

Catherine: (Taking a deep breath, her hand trembling as she pulls up her contacts) “Fine. Fine. I’ll call him. But you stay on the line. You don’t hang up. You listen. You witness. You—”

Gaga: “—I will be here. Geraldine is watching. Kevin is reluctantly watching. Geoffrey is watching from my shoulder blade. We are all here. We are all invested. Now call him. And put it on speaker.”

Catherine: (Dialing, her face a mask of terror and hope) “This is the most humiliating moment of my life. And I once tripped on the red carpet and fell into Hugh Jackman’s arms. In front of the entire world.”

Gaga: “And you survived that. You’ll survive this. Now shush. It’s ringing.”

The phone rings once. Twice. Three times. Catherine’s face is pale. Geraldine lets out a soft, encouraging chirp from Gaga’s perch. Kevin, against all odds, lifts his head and seems to listen.

Gavin: (A gruff, sleepy voice answers) “Hello? Who is this?”

Catherine: (Freezing, her voice coming out in a squeak) “Gavin! Hi! It’s Catherine Zeta-Jones. From—from the house. The one with the—the condensation. And the—”

Gavin: (Sounding slightly more awake, but still deeply tired) “Ma’am, it’s two in the morning. Is this an emergency?”

Catherine: (Looking at Gaga’s face on the phone, Gaga giving her an exaggerated thumbs up) “Yes. Yes, it’s an emergency. My sink is gurgling. There’s water everywhere. And my cake collapsed. And I—I need help. Please. I need help.”

There’s a long pause on the other end. Catherine holds her breath. Gaga bites her lip. Geraldine chirps nervously.

Gavin: (Finally, with a sigh that sounds almost fond) “I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Don’t touch anything. And ma’am?”

Catherine: (Whispering) “Yes?”

Gavin: “Try not to panic. It’s probably just a blocked P-trap. I’ve seen worse. And if the cake is a total loss, I know a good bakery that delivers at four in the morning.”

Catherine: (Her face breaking into a relieved, tearful smile) “Thank you. Thank you, Gavin.”

Gavin: “See you soon.” (He hangs up.)

Catherine: (Staring at her phone, then at Gaga’s face on the screen) “He’s coming. He’s coming. He said he’ll be here in twenty minutes. And he—he mentioned the cake. He knows about the cake. He’s going to see the cake. He’s going to—”

Gaga: (Grinning widely) “He’s going to fix your sink. And you’re going to offer him cake. And it’s going to be fine. Now—tell me about the cake. What did you do wrong? Walk me through it. I can talk you through a salvage plan. We have twenty minutes.”

Catherine: (Nodding, still trembling, but calmer) “Okay. Okay. I followed the recipe. I used the lavender. I used the honey. I used the—”

Gaga: (Interrupting) “Did you use room temperature eggs? Because the recipe specifically says room temperature eggs. If you used cold eggs, the batter would seize. And if the batter seizes, the cake collapses. It’s basic chemistry, Catherine.”

Catherine: (Her face falling) “I… I used cold eggs. I didn’t think it mattered. I thought—”

Gaga: (Sighing dramatically) “It matters. It absolutely matters. But we can fix this. While Gavin is fixing your sink, you’re going to make a new batter. I’m going to walk you through it. Step by step. No cold eggs. No panic. Just cake. And when Gavin finishes, you’re going to hand him a slice of the most perfect lavender honey cake he’s ever tasted. And he’s going to fall in love with you. Not because of the cake. But because you didn’t give up. Because you tried again. Because you’re a fighter.”

Catherine: (Laughing through her tears) “You’re insane. You’re absolutely insane. And I love you. I love Geraldine. I love Kevin. I even love Geoffrey. I love all of it.”

Gaga: (Beaming) “I know you do. Now—go get the eggs. Room temperature. And I’ll stay on the line. And we’ll fix this. Both of it. The plumbing. The cake. Your life. Everything.”

Behind Gaga, Geraldine lets out a triumphant squawk. Kevin, finally invested, chirps in agreement. The clock ticks toward 2:20 AM. And somewhere in the hills, a van with a plumbing logo is winding its way toward a house with a collapsed cake and a very determined woman.

Catherine: (Picking up the ingredients, phone propped against a jar of flour) “Okay. I’m ready. Talk me through it. And Gaga?”

Gaga: “Yes?”

Catherine: (Smiling, despite everything) “Thank you. For everything. For the birds. For the recipe. For the plumbing advice. For staying on the line. For—”

Gaga: (Interrupting, her voice warm) “That’s what friends are for. Now—let’s make some cake. And let’s make Gavin wish he’d shown up sooner.”

The next twenty minutes were a blur of flour, sugar, and frantic video instruction. By the time Gavin knocked on the door, the new batter was in the oven, the kitchen was marginally cleaner, and Catherine was standing at the door in a fresh robe, her hair somewhat tamed, a smile on her face that was only slightly manic.

Gavin: (Standing in the doorway, toolbox in hand, looking at her with a mixture of amusement and exhaustion) “You look better than you did on the phone.”

Catherine: (Stepping aside) “I had help. And I have cake in the oven. Would you like some when you’re done?”

Gavin: (Walking past her, a small smile on his face) “I’d like that. Now show me this sink.”

And as he bent down to inspect the P-trap, Catherine leaned against the counter, her phone still connected, Gaga’s face grinning from the screen, Geraldine and Kevin dozing peacefully in the background.

Gaga: (Whispering) “You’ve got this. You’ve got the sink. You’ve got the cake. You’ve got Gavin. You’ve got everything.”

Catherine: (Whispering back) “I hate you. I truly hate you. But thank you.”

Gaga: (Grinning) “You’re welcome. Now shush. He’s about to say something clever about your pipes. I want to hear it.”

Catherine: (Rolling her eyes, but smiling) “You’re impossible.”

Gaga: “And yet, here I am. Two in the morning. Birds on my perch. Cake on your mind. Plumbing at your feet. It’s the perfect disaster.”

Catherine: (Looking down at Gavin, who is muttering something about faulty seals, then back at the phone) “It really is. It really, truly is.”

The cake, when it emerged from the oven, was perfect. The sink, when Gavin finished with it, was silent. And Catherine, when she finally went to bed at 5 AM, had a new recipe, a fixed plumbing system, and a date for coffee with a plumber named Gavin.

And somewhere across the city, Lady Gaga fell asleep with a smile on her face, Geraldine and Kevin perched beside her, dreaming of lavender honey cake and the beautiful chaos of friendship.

Supermarket Showdown: Birds, Bundt Cakes, and Bad Omens

Setting: A pristine, overly air-conditioned supermarket in the heart of Los Angeles, the kind frequented by celebrities who have nothing better to do than buy organic kale and pretend they cook. The fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting an unflattering glow on everything. Catherine Zeta-Jones, miraculously recovered from her prosecco-fueled meltdown the night before, is pushing a cart with the focused determination of a general planning a military campaign. Her hair is back in its perfect updo. Her cream silk blouse is immaculate. She looks like she stepped out of a magazine spread about “Casual Weekend Shopping.” She does not look like someone who threw a paper cup at the floor and yelled about loving all tradesmen.

She rounds the corner into the baking aisle, mentally cataloguing the ingredients for a lemon drizzle cake she has no intention of actually making, when she freezes mid-step. Her cart squeaks to a halt. Her jaw drops. Her carefully composed expression crumbles into one of pure, unfiltered bewilderment.

Catherine Zeta-Jones: (Staring) “What… what in the actual…”

Lady Gaga is standing in the middle of the baking aisle, examining a bag of gluten-free flour with intense concentration. This alone would not be remarkable. But perched on her left shoulder, preening its crimson and blue feathers with casual indifference, is a magnificent Crimson Rosella.

lifespan of a king-parrot

Perched on her right shoulder, equally unbothered, is a regal King-Parrot, its green and red plumage gleaming under the fluorescent lights. Gaga is wearing what appears to be a leather jacket covered in sequins, a pair of enormous sunglasses, and an expression of complete normalcy, as if this is the most ordinary thing in the world.

Catherine: (Approaching slowly, as if approaching a wild animal) “Gaga. There are… there are birds on your shoulders. Actual birds. Real, living, breathing Australian parrots. In a supermarket. In Los Angeles.”

Australian Birds and Parrots

[Menu]

• Blake Lively
• Catherine Zeta-Jones
• Jennifer Hudson
• Lady Gaga
• Rihanna
• The 2 AM Emergency: Plumbing, Parrots, and Panic
• The Confession Hour: Secrets in the Conservatory
• The Copper Pipe and the Cockatoo: A Culinary Confession
• The Double Confession: Geoffrey Meets His Match
• The Pepperoni Proposition: A Second-Hour Standoff
• The Plumber’s Call: A Prank, A Parrot, and a Perfect Cake
• Zeta Jones’s Champagne Flute Incident

Gaga: (Not looking up from the flour) “I know.”

Catherine: (Stopping a few feet away, gesturing wildly) “You KNOW? That’s all you have to say? ‘I know’? There are WILD BIRDS on your shoulders, Gaga. In a supermarket. Where people buy cheese. Where children eat free samples. Where—”

Gaga: (Finally looking up, pushing her sunglasses down her nose) “They’re not wild. They’re domesticated. Well, semi-domesticated. Geoffrey’s a tattoo, remember? But these two—” She gestures with her chin toward the birds. “This is Geraldine. And this is Kevin. They’re rescues. I adopted them last night. After you left.”

The Rosellas

Catherine: (Spluttering) “You—you adopted PARROTS? At midnight? After a prosecco-fueled breakdown? Who adopts parrots at midnight?”

Gaga: (Shrugging, the birds shifting their weight to maintain balance) “There’s a 24-hour exotic bird rescue in the valley. I called them. They said they had two bonded pairs who needed a home. I said I’d take them. And Geoffrey—” She gestures vaguely at her shoulder blade. “—Geoffrey approved. He’s the patriarch. He made the final call.”

Catherine: (Pinching the bridge of her nose) “You named a tattoo Geoffrey. He does not make final calls. He is ink. He is pigment. He is—”

Gaga: (Interrupting, pointing at Catherine’s cart) “Is that lemon zest? Are you making a lemon drizzle cake? Because I have a recipe. A good one. With a honey glaze and a hint of lavender. It’s very Rosella-inspired. The colour palette matches Geraldine’s feathers. It’s—”

Catherine: (Throwing her hands up) “I don’t care about your bird-inspired cake recipes! I care about the fact that there are living creatures on your shoulders in a grocery store! This is a health code violation! This is a liability! This is—”

Suddenly, there is a clatter from the shelf above them. Catherine steps back instinctively as a bright orange bag plummets from the top shelf, missing her head by inches and landing directly at her feet, next to her expensive sandals. She looks down. The bag reads: “SUPERIOR PLUMBING SUPPLIES — TEFLON TAPE, PIPE JOINTS, AND SEALANT KIT.”

Catherine: (Staring at the bag as if it has personally insulted her) “Plumbing supplies? That’s an embarrassing sign.”

Gaga: (Peering over her sunglasses, grinning) “Is it? Or is it a sign from the universe? A message? A—”

Catherine: (Ignoring her, bending down to pick up the bag) “It’s not a sign. It’s a bag of Teflon tape that fell off a shelf. That’s not divine intervention. That’s gravity. And bad luck. And—” She examines the bag closely, turning it over in her hands. “—and it’s a terrible brand. This tape degrades in high temperatures. A real plumber would never use this. Gavin would never—”

She stops mid-sentence, realising what she’s just said. Gaga’s grin widens.

Gaga: “Gavin would never. Gavin would use premium-grade Teflon tape. Gavin would be deeply disappointed in this budget-friendly alternative. Gavin is a professional. Gavin has standards.”

Catherine: (Pointing the bag at Gaga like a weapon) “Shut up. Shut up right now. I am not discussing Gavin. I am not discussing plumbing. I am discussing the fact that you have birds on your shoulders, and I have a bag of plumbing supplies that fell out of nowhere, and I am going to lose my mind.”

Gaga: (Calmly, adjusting Kevin’s perch on her right shoulder) “Maybe it’s not a sign about Gavin. Maybe it’s a sign about the party. The upcoming party. The one we’re supposed to be planning. The one for which we are currently standing in the baking aisle, surrounded by flour and sugar and bird droppings—”

Catherine: (Horrified) “Are they dropping on the floor? Are they defecating in the supermarket?”

Gaga: (Offended) “They are impeccably trained. Geraldine and Kevin are potty-trained. They only go on command. I have a tiny little bird diaper in my bag if necessary. They are more hygienic than most humans in this store.”

Catherine: (Staring at her for a long, silent moment) “You have bird diapers. In your bag. Alongside whatever else you keep in that cavernous thing. You are—”

Gaga: “—prepared. Unlike you, who is standing in a supermarket holding a bag of cheap plumbing supplies and apparently having a spiritual crisis about it. Put the bag down, Catherine. Walk away. Let’s discuss cake. Focus on the cake.”

Catherine: (Looking down at the bag again, then back at Gaga, then at the birds, then at the bag) “I can’t. I can’t just put it down. It’s a sign. You’re right. It’s a sign. But it’s not a sign about Gavin. It’s a sign that the universe is mocking me. That every time I try to escape the conversation, it comes back. That I am doomed to discuss plumbing for the rest of my life.”

Gaga: (Patting Geraldine gently) “Well, if you’re going to be doomed, you might as well be doomed with cake. And birds. And a bag of terrible plumbing supplies that you can throw away dramatically later. Now—” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper. “—I have the lavender honey cake recipe right here. It involves edible flowers. The kind that match Geraldine’s feathers. It will be the most beautiful, ridiculous, bird-themed cake this party has ever seen.”

Catherine: (Sighing deeply, finally placing the plumbing bag in her cart like a reluctant hostage) “Fine. Fine. Give me the recipe. But if I find a single feather in the batter, I’m making you clean it up with your bird diapers.”

Gaga: (Beaming, handing over the recipe) “Deal. Now—about the glaze. I’m thinking a rosewater reduction. It’s very… royal. Very king-parrot.”

Catherine: (Taking the recipe, reading it, shaking her head) “You are impossible. You are absolutely impossible. And yet—” She pauses, a small smile tugging at her lips. “—I am going to make this cake. And I am going to serve it at the party. And everyone is going to ask about the recipe, and I am going to tell them a crazy woman with birds on her shoulders gave it to me.”

Gaga: (Nodding solemnly) “That’s exactly what I want. My legacy. A cake. And a bag of plumbing supplies that fell from the sky. And Geraldine. And Kevin. And Geoffrey, who is watching all of this from my shoulder blade, judging us both.”

Catherine: (Looking at Geraldine, who cocks her head and chirps) “She’s beautiful. I hate that she’s beautiful. I hate all of this. I hate you. I hate the birds. I hate the cake. I hate the plumbing bag. I hate—”

Gaga: (Interrupting, smirking) “—that you’re going to make this cake and invite Gavin to the party and pretend it’s a coincidence?”

Catherine: (Colouring slightly) “I am absolutely not doing that.”

Gaga: “You are. You absolutely are. And I’m going to be there. With Geraldine. And Kevin. And maybe a third parrot, depending on what the rescue has available. And we are going to have the most ridiculous, bird-filled, plumbing-adjacent party in Hollywood history.”

Catherine: (Staring at her for a long moment, then laughing despite herself) “I hate you. I truly hate you.”

Gaga: “You love me. And you love Geraldine. Admit it. She’s growing on you.”

Catherine: (Looking at the Crimson Rosella, who preens her feathers and chirps sweetly) “She is. She really is. I hate that, too.”

Gaga: (Triumphantly) “I knew it. Now—let’s get the flour. And the eggs. And maybe some edible glitter. And we’ll make this cake. And we’ll talk about the party. And we will NOT discuss plumbing. Unless the universe drops another bag of supplies on your head.”

Catherine: (Glaring) “Don’t. Don’t even joke about that.”

As if on cue, a package of pipe connectors slides off the shelf and lands at Catherine’s feet with a soft thud. She looks down. She looks at Gaga. Gaga is laughing so hard that Geraldine and Kevin flutter their wings in alarm.

Catherine: (Picking up the package, deadpan) “I am leaving. I am leaving this store. I am leaving this city. I am leaving this country. I am moving to a desert island with no plumbing, no parrots, and no Lady Gaga.”

Gaga: (Wiping tears of laughter from her eyes) “You’ll miss Geraldine. You’ll miss the cake. You’ll miss—”

Catherine: (Walking away with her cart, calling over her shoulder) “I’LL MISS MY SANITY! THAT’S WHAT I’LL MISS!”

Gaga: (Standing alone in the baking aisle, birds on her shoulders, laughing to herself) “She’ll be back. She’ll be back for the cake. And for Geraldine. And for the plumbing supplies. She can’t resist a sign from the universe.”

Geraldine chirps in agreement. Kevin nods sagely. And somewhere in the distance, Catherine Zeta-Jones mutters to herself about tradesmen, birds, and the absolute chaos of her life.

The cake, when it was finally made, was magnificent. The plumbing bag was donated to a local charity. And Gavin the plumber did, in fact, show up to the party, lured by the promise of lavender honey cake and the faint, unexplainable hope that something ridiculous might happen.

It did.

The Final Stand: Tradesmen, Tantrums, and Trogons

Setting: The conservatory is now shrouded in near-darkness, lit only by a single flickering candle that has burned down to a sad, waxy nub. Four empty prosecco bottles. Two pizza boxes. Three crumpled napkins. A cookbook face-down on the floor. Lady Gaga is cross-legged on the marble, still scrolling through her phone, occasionally showing Catherine sketches of copper pipe dresses that Catherine pretends to appreciate. Catherine is swaying slightly on the chaise, her silk blouse now untucked, her hair escaping its careful updo in wild, frazzled tendrils. The prosecco has done its work. The conversation has reached its breaking point.

Lady Gaga: (Scrolling) “And this one—this one is my favourite. The ‘Plunger Purse.’ It’s a handbag shaped like a plunger, but the handle is detachable and doubles as a legitimate plumbing tool. I call it ‘Fashion Meets Function.’ I think it’s genius.”

Catherine: (Staring blankly at the ceiling) “Genius. Yes. Absolutely. A plunger purse. The world has been waiting for this. Next you’ll design a toilet brush necklace.”

Gaga: (Without irony) “I have sketches. The bristles are made of recycled materials. It’s eco-friendly. It’s—”

Catherine: (Suddenly sitting bolt upright, her eyes wild) “STOP. STOP TALKING ABOUT PLUMBERS AND PURSES AND PIPES AND PARROTS. I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE.”

Gaga: (Startled, dropping her phone) “What? What happened? Did I say something wrong? Was it the toilet brush necklace? I knew it was too much. I knew it—”

[Menu]

• Blake Lively
• Catherine Zeta-Jones
• Jennifer Hudson
• Lady Gaga
• Rihanna
• Supermarket Showdown: Birds, Bundt Cakes, and Bad Omens
• The 2 AM Emergency: Plumbing, Parrots, and Panic
• The Confession Hour: Secrets in the Conservatory
• The Copper Pipe and the Cockatoo: A Culinary Confession
• The Double Confession: Geoffrey Meets His Match
• The Pepperoni Proposition: A Second-Hour Standoff
• The Plumber’s Call: A Prank, A Parrot, and a Perfect Cake

Catherine: (Standing up unsteadily, clutching the back of the chaise for balance) “It’s not the necklace. It’s not the purse. It’s not even your ridiculous tool belt or your Brenda from Toledo or your Geoffrey the tattooed rosella. It’s EVERYTHING. It’s been THREE HOURS. THREE HOURS, GAGA. We have discussed nothing but plumbers, rosellas, king-parrots, and pizza. I have revealed my deepest, most shameful secret about Gavin. You have revealed your deepest, most shameful secret about Brenda. And I am DONE.”

Gaga: (Standing up slowly, hands raised in surrender) “Okay. Okay. Calm down. We can talk about something else. We can talk about—”

Catherine: (Grabbing her paper cup—the last remaining vessel of prosecco—and holding it aloft like a tragic Shakespearean heroine) “I LOVE ALL TRADESMEN! DO YOU HEAR ME? ALL OF THEM! PLUMBERS! ELECTRICIANS! CARPENTERS! ROOFERS! TILERS! THE MAN WHO FIXED MY GARAGE DOOR LAST SPRING! THE WOMAN WHO REPLACED MY WATER HEATER IN 2019! I LOVE THEM ALL! THEY ARE THE UNSUNG HEROES OF CIVILISATION! THEY KEEP OUR HOMES STANDING AND OUR TOILETS FLUSHING AND OUR LIGHTS ON AND I CANNOT DISCUSS IT FOR ONE MORE SECOND!”

Gaga: (Backing away slowly) “Catherine, put the cup down. Please. It’s paper. It’s not even glass. You can’t make a dramatic exit with a paper cup. It’s not—”

Catherine: (Hurling the paper cup at the floor with all her might) “THAT’S ENOUGH! I’M LEAVING!”

Gaga: (Watching the paper cup bounce harmlessly off the marble and roll under the chaise) “That was… that was very dramatic. Very theatrical. The cup really sold it.”

Catherine: (Stomping toward the door, then turning back, pointing a trembling finger) “You stay here. You stay here with your birds and your plumbing certificates and your plunger hats. I’m going to bed. I’m going to sleep. And when I wake up, I’m going to call Gavin and tell him I have a pipe that needs fixing. A REAL pipe. Not a fake one. And I’m going to look him in the eye and I’m not going to blush. And THEN I’m going to be free.”

Gaga: (Trying very hard not to laugh) “That sounds like a solid plan. Very empowering. Very feminist. You go do that.”

Catherine: (Pausing at the door, wobbling slightly) “And you—you and your rosellas—you can have the conservatory. It’s yours. I’m done. I’M DONE.”

Gaga: (Saluting) “I accept this conservatory as tribute. Geoffrey will be very pleased.”

Catherine: (Slamming the door behind her with considerably less force than intended, her exit punctuated by the distant sound of her footsteps stumbling up the stairs and a muffled “OW” as she presumably stubbed her toe on something.)

Gaga: (Standing alone in the dim conservatory, surveying the wreckage) “Well. That happened.”

She stands there for a moment, listening to the sounds of Catherine’s retreat—another muffled curse, a door closing somewhere upstairs, silence. The candle flickers. The pizza boxes smell like regret. The paper cup lies forgotten under the chaise.

Gaga: (Sighing, picking up the empty prosecco bottles) “Fine. Fine, I’ll clean up. I’m the responsible one now. The certified plumbing student. The parrots expert. The—”

She bends down to grab the cookbook from the floor, and as she does, her hand brushes against something else. Something leather-bound. Something heavy. She pulls it out from under the chaise, blowing dust off the cover.

Gaga: (Reading aloud, squinting in the dim light) “A Complete Field Guide to Australian Parrots and Songbirds… with Hand-Painted Illustrations by… oh my god, Catherine had this the whole time? This is a first edition. This is—” She flips it open reverently. “This is incredible.”

She sinks back down to the floor, cross-legged, the book balanced on her knees, the chaos of the evening forgotten. The candle gutters. The prosecco bottles glint in the half-light. And Lady Gaga begins to thumb through the pages, her voice a soft, awestruck murmur.

Gaga: “Oh, look at you. Crimson Rosella. Platycercus elegans. The blue cheek patches, the red breast—you’re magnificent. You’re a masterpiece. Catherine would hate you, which makes me love you more.”

She turns the page.

Gaga: “Eastern Rosella. Platycercus eximius. Yellow and red and green—you look like a Christmas decoration that escaped. I love you. I would die for you. I would—” She squints at the illustration. “Wait, is that a feeding tube? No, it’s a nest. You’re nesting. That’s adorable. That’s aggressively adorable.”

Another page.

Gaga: “King-Parrot. Alisterus scapularis. We’ve discussed you at length, my friend. Twenty-five to thirty years. Monogamous. Gorgeous. You’re the swan of the parrot world, except you’re actually interesting. Catherine probably doesn’t know that. She’s too busy thinking about Gavin’s wrench.”

She flips again, faster now, her excitement building.

Gaga: “Rainbow Lorikeet. Trichoglossus moluccanus. Look at those colours. Blue and orange and green and yellow—you look like a bag of Skittles had a baby with a tropical sunset. I want to write a song about you. I want to name my next album after you. ‘Lorikeet’—that’s a good title. That’s a very good title.”

Another page.

Gaga: “Red-winged Parrot. Aprosmictus erythropterus. Bold. Striking. Very metal. You look like you should be on the cover of a heavy metal album. The red wings, the green body—you’re a rockstar. I know a rockstar when I see one.”

She pauses, tilting the book toward the candle to see better.

Gaga: “Swift Parrot. Lathamus discolor. Critically endangered. Oh, you poor thing. You’re beautiful and you’re struggling. I understand that. I relate to that. I want to protect you. I want to build you a tiny little habitat in my backyard. I want to—” She stops, squinting. “Wait. Is that your habitat? Is that a eucalyptus tree? Yes. Yes, it is. You love eucalyptus. You’re a koala with wings. I’m obsessed.”

Another page, another gasp.

Gaga: “Blue-winged Kookaburra. Not a parrot, but I don’t care. You’re stunning. The blue wings, the white head, the fierce little eyes—you look like you’re about to laugh at me, which honestly, after tonight, fair.”

She flips faster, pages blurring.

Gaga: “Galah. Beautiful. Pink and grey. You look like a flamingo that got into a fight with a cloud. I love you. I’m adding you to the list.”

Gaga: “Australian Ringneck. Barnardius zonarius. The yellow collar is gorgeous. You’re a bird with a necklace. You’re me. I’m you. We’re the same.”

Gaga: “Musk Lorikeet. Tiny. Green. Red mask. You look like a little bandit. I bet you steal hearts. I bet you steal seeds. I bet—”

She stops, her finger hovering over an illustration.

Gaga: (In a whisper) “Double-eyed Fig-Parrot. Oh my god. You’re barely bigger than my thumb. You’re the smallest parrot in Australia. You’re a secret. You’re hidden. You’re beautiful and nobody knows about you. I know about you. I see you. I see all of you.”

She sets the book down gently, staring at the open page, her face soft in the candlelight.

Gaga: (Quietly) “Catherine had this the whole time. She never mentioned it. She never said a word. She was too busy faking water leaks and crushing on a plumber named Gavin. But this—this is the real treasure. This is three hours of conversation that should have been.”

She looks up at the closed door, a tiny, amused smile on her face.

Gaga: “You’re missing all of this, Catherine. You’re missing the Double-eyed Fig-Parrot. You’re missing the Swift Parrot. You’re missing the whole damned rainbow. But I’m here. Geoffrey’s here. And we’re going to stay up all night and learn every single one of these beautiful, ridiculous, colourful creatures. And tomorrow, I’m going to tell you about them. And you’re going to pretend to listen. And we’re going to do this all over again.”

She picks up the book, hugging it to her chest.

Gaga: (To the empty room) “To the rosellas. To the king-parrots. To the lorikeets and the galahs and the fig-parrots and the ringnecks. And to the plumbers, God bless them, who keep the water running so we can wash our hands after we touch the pages.”

She leans back, book open, candle sputtering, and begins to read aloud again, her voice a soft, steady lullaby of birdsong.

Gaga: “The Regent Parrot. Polytelis anthopeplus. Yellow and green and black. You look like a sunset over the outback. You look like—”

And somewhere upstairs, Catherine Zeta-Jones, lying in bed with a pillow over her head, mutters to herself: “She’s still going. She’s still reading about the birds. I can hear her. I can hear her through the floor. I married a plumber in my next life. I swear it.”

But she smiles. And she doesn’t fall asleep for another hour, listening to the distant, muffled sound of her friend’s voice listing the names of birds she’ll never remember.

Gaga: (Faintly, through the floorboards) “—the Golden-shouldered Parrot. Psephotus chrysopterygius. Critically endangered. You’re a treasure. You’re all treasures. Every single one of you…”

The candle finally dies. The conservatory goes dark. And Lady Gaga sits in the blackness, book open on her lap, whispering the names of birds like a prayer.

The Double Confession: Geoffrey Meets His Match

Setting: The conservatory is now bathed in the soft glow of twilight, the last rays of sun casting long purple shadows across the marble table. Three empty prosecco bottles stand like fallen soldiers among the pizza debris. Catherine Zeta-Jones has abandoned all pretense of elegance and is now sprawled across the chaise like a very expensive, very tipsy puddle of silk.

Lady Gaga has migrated to the floor, lying on her stomach, chin propped on her hands, kicking her feet idly in the air like a teenager at a sleepover. The cookbook lies open to a random page about fig tarts, completely ignored. The conversation has reached that dangerous, wobbly stage where nothing makes sense and everything is hilarious.

Catherine Zeta-Jones: (Mumbling into a throw pillow) “So then Gavin says to me, ‘Ma’am, your pressure valve is shot.’ And I said, ‘Darling, so am I.’ And he didn’t even laugh. He just looked at me with those sad, competent eyes and said, ‘I’ll have it fixed in twenty minutes.’ Twenty minutes, Gaga. That’s faster than my personal trainer can get me to break a sweat. I nearly proposed right there on the laundry room floor.”

[Menu]

• Blake Lively
• Catherine Zeta-Jones
• Jennifer Hudson
• Lady Gaga
• Rihanna
• Supermarket Showdown: Birds, Bundt Cakes, and Bad Omens
• The 2 AM Emergency: Plumbing, Parrots, and Panic
• The Confession Hour: Secrets in the Conservatory
• The Copper Pipe and the Cockatoo: A Culinary Confession
• The Pepperoni Proposition: A Second-Hour Standoff
• The Plumber’s Call: A Prank, A Parrot, and a Perfect Cake
• Zeta Jones’s Champagne Flute Incident

Lady Gaga: (Not looking up from where she’s drawing spirals on the marble with her finger) “You have a laundry room floor proposal fantasy. That’s… honestly, that’s more unhinged than anything I’ve ever done, and I once gave birth to a giant egg on stage.”

gorgeous birds of australia

Catherine: (Lifting her head slightly) “That was a metaphor.”

Gaga: “Was it, though? The egg was very realistic. My dancers had to roll it across the stage for six minutes. There was a heartbeat sound effect. People cried.”

Catherine: (Ignoring her) “You haven’t told me anything about your plumber confession yet. You promised. You made a deal. Geoffrey the tattooed rosella for Gavin the condescending plumber. And then you stalled with pizza and prosecco and that ridiculous story about the time you made your backup dancers dress as drainpipes.”

Gaga: (Groaning, rolling onto her back) “That wasn’t stalling. That was building dramatic tension. You can’t just drop a confession like a lead balloon. You have to earn it. You have to create a narrative arc. You have to—”

Celebrità Fisico

Catherine: (Sitting up abruptly, pointing at her) “You’re terrified. You’re actually terrified to tell me. This is incredible. What could possibly be more embarrassing than naming a tattoo Geoffrey? Did you name a plunger? Did you write a love song about a pipe wrench?”

Gaga: (Covering her face with both hands) “Worse. So much worse.”

Catherine: (Leaning forward, eyes gleaming with predatory delight) “I need to hear this. I need it like I need oxygen. Tell me everything. No holding back. We’ve shared prosecco. We’ve shared pizza. We’ve shared our deepest plumbing-adjacent secrets. It’s your turn.”

Gaga: (Peeking through her fingers) “Okay. But you have to promise not to laugh. And I mean really promise. No laughing. Not even a little bit. Not even a snort. I will know if you snort.”

Catherine: (Crossing her heart solemnly, though her eyes are dancing) “I promise. On Geoffrey’s beautiful, inked feathers. I will not laugh.”

Gaga: (Taking a deep breath) “Right. So. Remember how I told you about my lockdown deep-dive into Australian aviary documentaries?”

Catherine: “Vividly. Seventeen hours. Mating calls. Preferred nesting height. It was very thorough and deeply concerning.”

Gaga: “Well, I didn’t just watch documentaries. I also… I also took an online course. In plumbing.”

Catherine: (Staring) “An online course.”

Gaga: (Nodding miserably) “A certified online course. Through a community college in Ohio. It was called ‘Introduction to Residential Plumbing Systems.’ I have a certificate. I framed it. It’s in my office, next to my Grammys.”

Catherine: (Her face cycling through confusion, disbelief, and then dawning horror-delight) “You took a plumbing course. From a community college. In Ohio. During lockdown. You—you, Lady Gaga, global pop icon—have a certificate in residential plumbing systems.”

Gaga: “I also have a tool belt. A real one. With real tools. I bought it from a hardware store. I still have the receipt.”

Catherine: (Screaming with laughter, completely abandoning her promise) “A TOOL BELT! GAGA! You have a tool belt! Tell me you’ve worn it. Tell me you’ve worn it and done something ridiculous with it.”

Gaga: (Miserably, but also laughing now) “I… I may have fixed my own toilet. Once. It took me four hours. I had to watch the instructional video seventeen times. I called the course instructor—a lovely woman named Brenda from Toledo—at three in the morning because I couldn’t get the flange to seat properly. She told me I was overthinking it. She was right. But I fixed it. I fixed my own toilet, Catherine. And I’ve never told anyone because it’s the most embarrassingly normal thing I’ve ever done.”

Catherine: (Wiping tears from her eyes) “You called Brenda from Toledo at three in the morning to ask about a toilet flange. This is the greatest story I have ever heard. This is better than any film I’ve ever been in. This is better than any song you’ve ever written. You are a certified plumber. You are a plumber who dresses like a space alien and sings about poker faces.”

Gaga: (Defensively) “I’m not a certified plumber. I’m a certified student of plumbing. There’s a difference. I can’t actually practice. I don’t have a license. But I know things. I know about water pressure. I know about pipe materials. I know that PVC and copper have different thermal expansion rates. I know that a proper seal requires—”

Catherine: (Holding up a hand) “Stop. Stop. I can’t take it. You’re quoting plumbing facts at me. You, who spent an hour lecturing me about the mating habits of king-parrots, are now lecturing me about thermal expansion rates. You are a Renaissance woman. A polymath. A nightmare.”

Gaga: (Sitting up, suddenly defensive) “It’s not a nightmare. It’s a practical skill. Everyone should know how to fix a basic leak. It’s empowering. It’s feminist. It’s—”

Catherine: “—absolutely unhinged. But I love it. I love every single part of it. You have a tool belt. You have a framed certificate. You have a plumber named Brenda from Toledo who you called at three in the morning. This is better than my Gavin confession. You win. You absolutely win the most embarrassing plumber-related confession in Hollywood history.”

Gaga: (Relaxing slightly, a sheepish grin spreading across her face) “It gets worse.”

Catherine: (Gasping) “Worse? How can it possibly get worse?”

Gaga: “I also… I also designed a line of plumber-inspired fashion. It never went into production. But I have sketches. Overalls with detachable tool pockets. A dress made of copper pipe links. A hat shaped like a plunger.”

Catherine: (Howling) “A HAT SHAPED LIKE A PLUNGER! GAGA! You designed a plunger hat! I need to see these sketches. I need to see them immediately. Where are they? Are they in this house? Can we go look at them right now?”

Gaga: (Laughing, pulling her phone out of her pocket) “I have photos. I have a whole folder. It’s called ‘Plumber Chic.’ And I am deeply, profoundly ashamed of it, but also a little bit proud.”

Catherine: (Grabbing the phone, scrolling frantically) “Oh my god. Oh my god, there it is. The plunger hat. It’s glorious. It’s absolutely magnificent. Why didn’t you ever produce this? The world needs a plunger hat. The world needs Lady Gaga in copper pipe couture. You could have single-handedly made plumbing fashionable.”

Gaga: (Snatching the phone back) “I was going to. But then the lockdown ended, and I went back to touring, and I kind of forgot. And also my team said it was ‘too niche.’ Which is ridiculous, because nothing is too niche for me. I wore a meat dress. I wore a dress made of bubbles. A plunger hat is practically conservative.”

Catherine: (Leaning back, shaking her head in wonder) “I cannot believe this. Two hours ago, we were discussing the lifespan of king-parrots. Now I know that you have a framed plumbing certificate, a tool belt, a plumber named Brenda, and a portfolio of unproduced plumbing-inspired fashion. You are the most extraordinary person I have ever met.”

Gaga: (Smirking) “And you fake-called a plumber three times because you have a crush on his condescending tone of voice. We’re both disasters. We’re just disasters in different tax brackets.”

Catherine: (Raising her empty prosecco glass) “To Brenda from Toledo. May her flanges always seat properly.”

Gaga: (Clinking her glass with her own empty one) “To Gavin. May his pressure valves never fail and his overalls always fit.”

Catherine: “And to Geoffrey—”

Gaga: (Groaning) “Geoffrey doesn’t drink. He’s a tattoo. How many times do I have to explain this?”

Catherine: (Ignoring her) “And to the eternal, inexplicable connection between plumbing, rosellas, king-parrots, and two absolutely unhinged women who should probably go to bed.”

Gaga: (Nodding) “Probably. But first—”

Catherine: “Don’t say it.”

Gaga: “—I want to tell you about the recipe I invented that combines plumber-inspired ingredients with rosella-themed presentation. I call it ‘The Drain Unclogger’s Delight.’ It involves chorizo, smoked paprika, and a garnish made of edible flowers arranged to look like a king-parrot’s crest.”

Catherine: (Staring at her for a long moment) “You are a menace. A beautiful, terrifying menace. And I want the recipe immediately.”

Gaga: (Grinning) “I knew you’d say that. I have it on my phone. I also have a video of me wearing the tool belt while making it.”

Catherine: (Reaching for the phone) “Give it to me. Give it to me now. This night has peaked. There is no topping this.”

Gaga: (Holding the phone out of reach) “Only if you promise to tell Gavin about your fake leaks tomorrow.”

Catherine: (Groaning) “Fine. But only if you promise to wear the plunger hat to my next dinner party.”

Gaga: “Deal.”

Catherine: “We are absolutely insane.”

Gaga: “The best kind of insane. Now—pass the prosecco. I have a story about Brenda and a particularly stubborn kitchen sink that will make you weep with laughter.”

Catherine: (Refilling both glasses) “I can’t wait. I truly cannot wait. This is the best evening I’ve had in years. And I’ve had some very good evenings.”

Gaga: (Toasting) “To the plumbers. To the rosellas. To the king-parrots. And to the two of us, the most unlikely plumbing-ornithology-cuisine experts the world has ever seen.”

Catherine: (Clinking her glass) “Hear, hear. Now shut up and tell me about Brenda and the kitchen sink. And please, for the love of all that is holy, let there be a recipe involved.”

Gaga: (Settling back, phone in hand, grinning like a madwoman) “Oh, there’s always a recipe, Catherine. There’s always a recipe.”