So for those of you who are new to "Phalanges", this is the lowdown.
I'm a screenwriter by trade and wanted to try my hand at prose after a good decade of writing in nothing but script-form. I decided to do a fun little piece of fluff (it's kind of turned into a Chick Lit./Nancy Drew thing) and post it on the blog to give me a bit of impetus to keep going. I know it's not perfect - it's not supposed to be.
This is first draft quality (ie. shithouse), and will probably never go any further to be honest! It's just me stretching the 'ol writing muscles...
If you are interested in reading (it's not mandatory!) I suggest you check out the previous chapters linked in the right hand margin before checking this chapter out. You won't get what's happening unless you do.
Again - I apologise for any formatting errors, etc. I'm just "cut and paste"-ing from a word doc.
BTW - there is a language warning, folks - my Lucy and her cohorts have a bit of a potty-mouth. Any probs with the Australian vernacular - hit me up in the comments.
And so, to our next thrilling installment of: (cue soap opera music)
*Although I've used some familiar names, the characters and their shenanigans have no relation to their namesake's real lives or personalities. So please don't get upset if a character named after you dates Spencer Pratt and dies of a rare form of ass cancer...
Thrust suddenly to the dizzying heights of fame - can she survive in the cutthroat world of Australian hand-modelling?
Especially when it seems someone will literally kill for her job…
Part 4 – "Bebeh Steps"
“Holycrapholycrapholycrapholycrap” Lucy gasped, speed-walking up the path to Le Purr Industries headquarters. She was so incredibly late to meet with Rock and her makeover team it wasn’t funny.
She clutched Dinky to her chest as the little dog started to slide out of her grasp – eager to explore the shrubbery that lined the front entrance to the rather unassuming building. The girls had been surprised to find that Le Purr’s offices were situated in an uninspiring industrial area, rather than a shiny skyscraper.
Dinky make a more concerted effort to wiggle out of Lucy’s arms as they got closer to the front door. She groaned and tried to juggle the little Chihuahua and her handbag.
“Dink – Mummy’s in a real hurry right now. I promise you can run around later.”
“I told you you should have left her.” Brooke trotted beside Lucy in impossibly high platform heels – looking impossibly gorgeous as usual.
“She’s a pup – I can’t just leave her in an empty house for hours on end!”
“Fine, fine!” Brooke pouted, swinging her Chanel bag. “She’s your problem, then.”
“Actually, she’s yours.” Lucy shot back breathily – shouldering the front doors open. “You insisted on coming as my ‘assistant”. Assistants hold dogs and handbags while the boss does her stuff”
Brooke’s mouth dropped open to return fire, but Lucy just power-walked up to reception, where a paunchy middle-aged security man was eyeing them suspiciously.
“Hi!” she panted. “I’m Lucy Leighton - here to see Mr LePurr?”
The man – his badge declared him to be “Barry” - looked at his clipboard. “Lucy Leighton. Appointment for oh-nine hundred hours. It is now oh-nine-forty five” he drawled.
“Er – yeah. Sorry - I slept through my alarm clock.”
The man pursed his lips and stared at her.
Dinky growled and showed two rows of teeny-tiny teeth at him.
The man growled back.
“Uumm…could I see him now anyway?” Lucy interjected.
Barry’s attention snapped back to her.
“I’ll have to check.”
He turned and grabbed his phone, jabbed at a speed-dial button and waited - surveying Dinky with narrowed eyes.
Lucy and Brooke exchanged a look.
“Helen – it’s Barry. I have a ‘Lucy Leighton’, an unidentified female accomplice and an unidentified rodent downstairs…”
Brooke and Dinky made identical affronted noises.
“…Yes of course. Right away, then.” Barry hung up. “You’re to go up to the fifth floor A-SAP”, he barked – extracting a set of keys and inserting them into a lock next to the elevator.
The lift doors pinged open and the girls stepped in – Dinky growling so hard her body vibrated and her little legs pistoned back and forth.
“Quiet, you” Lucy warned her.
But Dinky made a desperate lunge out of Lucy’s arms and through the closing doors.
Lucy and Brooke’s last view of Dinky was as she attached herself to Barry’s scrotum.
***
Helen sighed as she saw off the last of the paramedics and turned to Lucy and Brooke.
“They say he’ll be fine once the shock has worn off” she smiled. “That and the Morphine.”
Lucy let out a shaky breath and squeezed Dinky to her chest. The last half an hour was indelibly printed in her mind. The screaming, the growling, the sheer unadulterated embarrassment. How the hell she was going to show her face in this building – let alone meet Rock Le Purr again - was beyond her.
Helen surveyed her sympathetically and took her arm, guiding her to the elevators. Brooke clomped after them – minus a platform shoe after using it to brain Barry when he tried to swat Dinky from his nether regions.
“Are you sure Rock wants to see me after all this?” Lucy queried in a small voice as the lift doors closed.
“Of course! The only thing stopping him from coming down to get you himself was the feeding.”
“Feeding?”
Helen gave a Mona Lisa smile “Oh, you’ll find out…” she said vaguely as the elevator pinged to a stop. The doors rolled open to reveal an elegantly understated waiting area with the Le Purr logo emblazoned along one wall.
Helen nodded towards two large doors at the end of the room, “Lucy, you go right in to see Mr LePurr. Brooke – let’s get you to wardrobe. Maybe we can find a pair of shoes that will fit.”
Brooke lit up like a fireworks display. “Really? You have a Wardrobe here?”
“We do all our photo shoots on-site. Mr LePurr likes us to be completely self-sufficient. It’s just off to the right…”
She pointed down a long, curving corridor and Brooke took off like a bat out of hell – stopping and hopping in place to remove her one remaining shoe before powering on.
Helen laughed, “She’ s keen!”
“Oh, you have no idea” Lucy moaned. “You’ll never get rid of her now.”
Helen chuckled and started to follow Brooke.
“I’m really sorry for all the trouble!” Lucy called.
Helen turned and shrugged – walking backwards, “It’s fine! Barry thinks he’s still in the military. It was only a matter of time before someone mangled his goolies.”
Lucy smiled weakly as the English woman gave a jaunty salute, then turned and broke into a jog to catch up with Brooke.
Lucy stood alone in plush air-conditioned silence.
The huge double–doors of Rock’s office beckoned.
She took a deep breath.
“Well Dink – here goes nothing…”
She knocked.
“Mr-er- Rock?”
There was no answer except for a distant cheeping noise. She knocked again.
No answer.
She opened the door hesitantly and stuck her head in.
“Helloooo?”
“Lucy?” came Rock’s accented voice from afar. “I will be with you momentarily – please come in.”
Dinky took the invitation and dived out of Lucy’s arms, pattering inside the room and jumping up onto a couch that had a circular doggie bed sitting on it.
“Dinky! Bad girl! Don’t make me put a leash on you!’ Lucy hissed – following and waggling a finger.
Dinky gave her a superior look and turned around three times before plunking down on the bed with a humph and closing her eyes.
Lucy rolled hers, then looked around.
The office was huge and opulent – obviously taking up half of the entire fifth storey. A large desk with a huge watercolour mural behind it dominated the room; with floor to ceiling tinted windows on each side letting in the spring sunlight.
The couch Dinky was sitting on took up a whole corner of the room and was covered in deep chocolate brown velvet. There wasn’t a stray dog hair on the whole thing. It seemed the bed was set out especially for Dinky.
Lucy perched carefully on the sofa next to her dog and waited. Those strange chirping noises were still coming intermittently from somewhere – she just couldn’t pinpoint exactly-
She was interrupted by the wall behind the mural opening up and Rock emerging – soaked head to toe and clad in a wetsuit. Or should that be half a wetsuit.
He’d peeled it off to the waist and was showing off a jaw-dropping six-pack of abs.
Lucy’s thought processes screeched to a halt.
Until Dinky gave a sharp yelp and leapt off the couch, making a beeline for Rock –
“Noooooooo!” Lucy screeched – making a wild dive for the demented dog. She missed by half a centimetre, and could only watch in horror as the pup bounded towards Rock – only to stop and dance at his feet.
“’ow is my lovely litterl munchkin today, hmm?” he cooed, bending over to pick up the tiny yipping pup.
“Interesting you should use the word “Munch” in that sentence” Lucy gasped – picking herself up off the floor and trying very hard not to stare at his chest.
“Ah, yes! I trust Barry is safely on ‘is way to the ‘ospital?”
“Um – yeah. I’m really sorry-“
Rock waved a dismissive Gallic hand “Barry was overzealous and due for a ‘oliday. I will send him somewhere nice for his trouble”.
“Uh-huh” Lucy managed – losing the battle with his hypnotic chest.
Rock looked down at himself and grimaced. “I am sorry to greet you like this. It was ze bebeh’s feeding and play time.”
“Whuh?”
Rock slid the huge secret door closed behind him and grabbed a towel from his office chair, patting his abs dry.
“Er…er…er…” Lucy burbled “You-er-you have a pool back there?”
“Of sorts - would you like to see?”
“It – er - doesn’t have sharks with frickin’ laser beams attached to their foreheads, does it?”
Rock laughed, “No! Not at all!” he held out a damp, sinewy hand. “Come – let me show you-“
***
“He has a pond full of fuckin’ baby OTTERS in his office???” Brooke screeched – half a false eyelash drooping precariously off one lid.
Lucy clapped a hand over Brooke’s mouth and ripped the offending lash off – looking around the deserted LePurr makeup room nervously.
“No shit! The guy keeps them in his office behind a secret door – it’s insaaane!” she hissed.
Brooke peeled Lucy’s hand off, “Did you touch them? Did you feed them? Were they holding hands?”
“No – they’re like little wet ferrets or something. But they make chirping noises like baby chickens!”
Brooke looked like she was having a hard time believing her, but quite frankly Lucy was having a harder time believing it herself.
She put her hands over her eyes, wishing she could erase the gaggle of otters gambolling all over a half-naked Rock Le Purr from her retinas.
“Brooke – what am I gonna do? I’m supposed to work with him and he’s batshit crazy! In a nice way - but still BATSHIT!”
Brooke sighed and put a hand on her hip.
“Okay - so the guy likes otters. He’s rich – he’s allowed to be eccentric. It’s hardly Howard Hughes territory…”
“You know about Howard Hughes?”
“Leo DiCaprio in “The Aviator”– duh!”
“Oh, right. But…I mean – c’mon! Who has 50 baby otters in a pool in their office?”
“I betcha Michael Jackson had some.”
“Not helping…”
“I bet they were Albino…”
“Brooke…”
“I bet they were all named after Fraggles…”
“BROOKE!”
Brooke huffed, strutting over to a bank of lit mirrors in her newly acquired blue peep-toe slingbacks. Lucy watched as she tried to attach another false eyelash.
“You’re making a mountain out of a mole-hill, Luce. Or an otter-pool. Just deal.”
Lucy opened her mouth to refute that little piece of wisdom, but was interrupted by Dinky pattering into the room – fully decked out in a gorgeous little angel costume.
“Awwww! Look at you, honey!”
She picked the dog up and tweaked her little white wings. Dinky wuffed and licked her face excitedly. She turned to the statuesque woman who followed Dinky and smiled gratefully.
“Thanks Inbal – she’s so cute!”
Le Purr’s head stylist laughed and waved it away “My pleasure – she’s an absolute darling”. She gave Lucy a hard look “Now, it’s your turn, Missy.”
Lucy winced. She was hoping Dinky would have been a longer distraction. “I don’t know what you can do with me, really. Can’t you just clean me up a bit and let Photoshop do the rest?”
Inbal advanced on her, appalled “I certainly cannot! You just signed the contract, right? ”
“Er…right.” After the introduction to Otter Town…
“So sit down and shut up.”
Lucy sat.
Brooke took Dinky from Lucy’s lap and settled into the chair next to her. “You better watch it – Inbal spent 15 years with Mossad.”
Lucy frowned. She’d left her alone for half an hour and already Brooke was BFFs with half the building!
“Yep,” Inbal nodded – lifting a steaming curling iron from the table, “and I can fuck your shit up six ways from Sunday, so keep still.”
***
Lucy surveyed herself in the mirror. “My hair’s crunchy…” she observed, feeling it cautiously.
“Your hair’s hot – don’t touch!” Inbal admonished – slapping her hand away.
Lucy looked at the creature in the mirror critically. It was her. But it wasn’t. Inbal had somehow tamed her hair into thick corkscrew curls that tumbled down her back, and her face had been slathered with enough cosmetics to make Lady Gaga keel over. Yet funnily enough, none of it seemed to show. Inbal called it “the natural look”. Lucy wasn’t sure what was so natural about it, but she had to admit she looked…pretty. Really pretty, actually.
She’d been poked and prodded and had her hair yanked and draped and moussed as Inbal tried to work out “looks” for each of the ten themed photos she’d be posing for.
“You look like an older version of Taylor Swift, Luce.” Brooke grinned as Inbal took some shots with a digital camera.
“Yes, we’ll get some more highlights in that hair of yours before the shoot, I think. But otherwise, you’re perfect.” Inbal sighed as she turned off the camera. “See? That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”
“No, I suppose not” Lucy grinned wryly, “Thanks for everything.”
Inbal beamed “You’re very welcome. It’s nice to work on someone who actually deserves a little pampering. Usually I just get girls like the charming Velvet.” She rolled her eyes for dramatic effect.
“Yeah – what a piece of work!” Brooke crowed. “Karen in wardrobe reckons she’s a real mole. Tore a lighting guy’s dreadlocks right out of his head one time.”
Inbal nodded sagely “Yes – you’d best stay out of her way. I've met torture specialists with more empathy than that c-
She broke off as Dinky started barking madly.
“What is it, sweetie?” Lucy looked at the open door. There was no one there.
Brooke shrugged, trying to keep a hold of the little dog on her lap. “She probably just saw someone walking by with their lunch”
“No – I don’t think so…” Lucy examined at the door again. Whatever it was, Dink was not happy with it. “Here,” she opened her arms. “Give her to me”.
Brooke held the dog out, but Dinky took her chance and wriggled fiercely – jumping out of Brooke’s hands and out the door like a mouse on speed, yapping crazily.
“I’ll get her” Lucy sighed, getting up. “My butt was going to sleep anyway.”
She trotted out of the room to be greeted by an empty hallway.
Somewhere to the right, she could hear Dinky going ape-shit.
“Dink! What the hell is wrong with you?” she called, jogging in the direction of the barks. “Mummy’s getting very cross!”
More barks was the only reply she got.
Further down the corridor and still no sign of the dog – how far could one little pup go that quickly?
Panting, she rounded a corner- and cried out as something silver rushed at her face.
Somewhere far away Dinky yelped – and then there was nothing.
Stay tuned for another halfway entertaining chapter of…Phalanges of Terror!
Look at ze bebeh Otteurs! You wish to swim with zem. You wish to kees zem. You wish to give zem all your monies...
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