For those of you uninitiated, you can see previous chapters listed on the right of the page.
Again - this is first draft quality, ie. pretty rough. Formatting probably all over the place - whatever! This is just for shits and giggles, as Austin Powers would say :)
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 FIVE - “Marmoset Knock You Out”
“Work! Turn to the left. Work! Now turn to the right. Work! Sashay! Chante!”
The singing was getting louder and more insistent – jabbing into Lucy’s head. She growled and tried to roll, but her body wasn’t co-operating. Why wouldn’t it stop!? What the hell did Brooke think she was doing playing music so loud when she knew she had a hangover?
The song persisted, urging Lucy to “Do a twirl!”
“Fuck off!” she hissed, prying an eye open and regretting it immediately. Her face felt like it was on fire! She went to prop herself up with an arm, but it was wedged behind her back. Dammit – she’d fallen asleep on it and it’d gone numb! She tried the other arm, but no…that seemed to be stuck as well. Odd.
Grunting, she rolled over onto her stomach – expecting an arm to flop over with her. It didn’t. She wiggled her fingers and tried to twist her wrist – go no. She realised with horror that they’d been tied with something - then it all came back in an awful rush. Dinky running, and something rushing towards her face…
“Hell!’ she panted – eyes popping open. She wasn’t in bed at home – she was…where exactly? Craning her aching head up, she peered around blearily. She seemed to be lying on bland, hard carpet and could see the legs of what looked like a desk – and…where the flying fuck was that damn music coming from?
She panted – the pain really kicking in now she was trying to move – and rolled onto her side again. There was a large motivational poster of a helicopter silhouetted against a red sunset on the wall above her, and a cork pin-up board with what looked like office memos stuck to it. What the hell? Had she been kidnapped by Dilbert? Judging by his choice of music, he was-
The music suddenly cut out, mid stream. Lucy’s heart stopped. Was he coming to finish her off? She waited, ears screaming out for the slightest sound of footfall – but there was nothing.
“Work! Covergirl! Work it girl! Do a twirl!” - it started up again, making her jerk painfully.
“Shit!” she spat, then cursed herself for making too much noise. She waited for someone to approach. No one did.
Relaxing again, she tried to sit up, only to find her legs were tied as well.
“Perfect! Just perfect! I’m going to die in a cubicle listening to classic 90’s club music!” she thought. “Brooke would find this hysterical – Brooke loves this song…”
Suddenly her brain clicked into gear – Brooke! Brooke loved this song! Brooke was forever changing her mobile phone ring as a joke!
She wiggled her numb fingers into the back pocket of her jeans. Buried deep down was her phone! Her relief was so great she almost started crying. It took several minutes to dig the phone out, praying that whoever was ringing would keep doing so. It cut out, then started ringing immediately. Bless them! “Keep ringing, keep ringing!’ she muttered, hearing the thump of the phone hitting the floor. “Yes!”
She wiggled round until she was face down to the phone, and thanked God she’d gone for a touch pad instead of buttons! The display said “Brooke calling” and she frantically jabbed the “Answer” area with her nose.
“Help! Brooke – help!”
“Lucy! Where the hell have you been!? Do you know how long-“
“Shut up! I’ve been kidnapped! I’m tied up somewhere – I don’t know where!”
“What do you mean you don’t know? You were in the building…”
“I don’t think I am now! Someone knocked me on the head and I woke up here…”
“Geez – I’m amazed you don’t have brain damage! How many times have you been conked on the head now?”
“Focus Brooke! HELP. ME!”
“Err..er…er…er!”
Brooke was losing it. Lucy was really losing it.
“Call the police! Do something – anything!”
“Okay, okay!” Brooke panted, ”Someone call the police! Lucy’s been kidnapped!” she shouted. Lucy winced and laid her head next to the phone. She wanted to throw up so badly…
“Luce – someone’s ringing them now…” Brooke was saying – a hubbub of people talking urgently behind her voice. Someone said something indistinct and Brooke relayed it.
“Can you describe where you are?”
“Umm…” Lucy fought the wooziness and bile rising in her throat and craned her neck to look around again. “Office of some sort. There’s a helicopter in a sunset…” she tapered off, panting painfully.
There was a pause.
“Okaaay,” Brooke said slowly, “Okay, now don’t panic…but I think you’re in a Michael Bay film…”
“BROOKE!”
For a second Lucy thought her head injury had done something to her vocal chords, until Rock’s voice came over the phone and she realised it had been him admonishing her friend.
“Lucy – are you alright?”
“No I’m not! I’m tied up in an office somewhere and there’s a poster with a helicopter on it and a pinboard and that’s all I can see and I’m scared and vomity and my head hurts!” she cried.
“Helicopter…”
Lucy made a squeaky noise of assent and laid her head on the carpet.
“Lucy, I think I know where you are!”
“What?”
“Just stay put – I am coming for you, my litterl axolotl!”
“Eh?”
Lucy could hear running footsteps and fear jolted through her. This was it – Dilbert was coming to dismember her!
“Rock! Rock help! He’s coming!”
“Just hang on!”
The footsteps were almost upon her.
“ROCK!”
The door crashed open and Lucy screamed as a tall figure filled the doorway.
“My litterl Marmoset!” it cried.
“Rock!?”
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