Fat Assassins (The Fat Adventure Series)

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Fat Assassins (The Fat Adventure Series) Page 7

by Fowler, Marita


  “Since you’ve selected to bill using your phone number, we can proceed with the details of your package without interruption.”

  Wow. Ulyssa was really good at this customer service thing.

  I kept watching her, trying to pick up some techniques. She flipped to the scripts tab of the manual and started reading the Spring Break script to the caller.

  “What name would you like to use?”

  “Okay, Dirk. You’ve arrived in Cancun for Spring Break. What do you want to do now? Senor Frog’s for the wet t-shirt contest?”

  Something seemed a little off kilter about this conversation. What type of company organizes tours for wet t-shirt contests? I guess it makes sense as part of the spring break travel package. Ulyssa furiously scribbled notes on her Dynamic notepad.

  “Well, I have curly, black hair and I’m wearing a white shirt. Why?”

  She stopped writing notes.

  “You’d like to see me in a wet t-shirt? I’m not sure what you’re asking me to do?”

  “You want me to drench myself in water, so you can see my bra through the t-shirt?! Sir, you are out of line! This is a professional establishment!”

  Terry came running from his office and smacked the hold button on her phone. “You were doing awesome until you played up the prude thing too much. Tone it down and start giving him what he paid for...”

  He stood there while she un-muted the phone.

  “Dirk, um... I’m sorry... this is my first time and I’m really nervous,” she apologized.

  Terry gave her a thumbs up.

  “You like virgins?! You’ll be gentle?! What the hell, you pervert!” When she realized what was going on, she swiveled her chair towards us, let out a squeak and hit the disconnect button.

  “You just hung up on a customer!” he said, looking for an explanation.

  “What kind of service are we marketing here?”

  He stared at her with shrewd eyes. “It’s a phone sex hotline.”

  “What?”

  “A phone sex hotline. Men call in and you talk dirty to them. What kinda telemarketer job do you think pays $15 an hour? Home Shopping Network?”

  All of a sudden things fell into place and the conversation strains took on a darker meaning.

  “Mmmm. That’s right, that’s how I like it...”

  “On your knees now, you’ve been a bad, bad boy...”

  “You know I’m not that kinda girl. I want to save it until we’re married...”

  I’d heard enough. “Thanks for giving us this opportunity, but I don’t think it’s quite what we had in mind. Have a nice day!”

  Ulyssa was still in shock from popping her phone cherry, so I jerked her out of the chair and pushed her toward the exit. We navigated our way between the cubicles, past the plastic receptionist and out to the parking lot. We ran to the car like the devil was chasing us and locked the doors. We didn’t relax until we pulled into the parking lot of our next interview. Ulyssa dug hand sanitizer out of her purse and we rubbed it all over our hands and faces trying to erase the sleazy feelings from Dynamic.

  “I’m so glad he didn’t order the wildlife package! I don’t know if I could have psychologically recovered from that one,” Ulyssa said, making us laugh until hysterical tears poured from our eyes.

  We were early for the pharmaceutical sales interview at Au Naturales, so we had time to regain our composure and reapply our makeup. We walked around to the front entrance and stood in front of a new age Wican store. There wasn’t a sign for the Au Naturales company, so we pressed the button labeled 202 since it matched the address.

  “What?” a female voice demanded.

  “We have a two o’clock interview at Au Na...” I said, as the door buzzed open, interrupting me. We climbed the rickety stairs and knocked on the door with the apartment number hanging upside down. Maybe this is a startup company that doesn’t have the money to build a storefront yet.

  A turbaned woman slung the door open saying, “C’mon on in. I’m just finishing up with a customer”.

  Wary from our last shady interview, we stayed close to the door, ready to run at any sign of weirdness.

  “Thanks Christal! You’ve always got the best weed!” That voice sounded vaguely familiar. I felt Ulyssa tense at the mysterious man’s next words, “But those roofies you sold me didn’t work. She didn’t loosen up one bit at the party. I don’t know what else to do. She’s a-driving me crazy.”

  Johnny!

  Ulyssa flew across the room and kicked the kitchen door open.

  “I’m a-gonna cut your balls off!”

  I chased her into the kitchen and stopped short. She was wielding a butcher knife Steven Seagal style with her her wrist turned under holding the dull part of the knife against her arm. She swung her arm in front of her chest slicing air, making Johnny jump up from his chair. His left arm was in a sling making it awkward for him to escape Ulyssa as he scrambled around the retro kitchen. Christal sat calmly on the red, plastic and chrome chair watching Johnny scurry around her kitchen. She exhaled a mouthful of cigarette smoke, “I reckon this is the one you wuz just telling me about?”

  Her words rattled Johnny and he tripped on the curling linoleum flooring. Unable to steady himself with his right arm, he hit the floor with a thud and Ulyssa seized the opportunity. She lurched forward, extending her knife arm, aiming the weapon at Johnny’s crotch. His eyes widened and adrenaline drove him back an inch as the knife wedged into the floor slicing open his jeans and underwear. Ulyssa was busy trying to dislodge the knife for another try while Johnny decided to confront her instead of trying to escape.

  “What the hell?! You about cut my junk off!”

  “Just give me a second and I’ll finish the job!” Tug. Tug.

  He leapfrogged over the knife and tackled Ulyssa to the floor. He used his legs to pin her arms to her side while he tried to reason with her. Christal leaned down, snatched the knife out of the floorboards and slung it into the wall on the far side of the kitchen. I was a little unnerved by her nonchalant attitude over this kitchen smack-down episode.

  “Why are you trying to kill me? I was trying to be cute and romantic! I love you!”

  “Romantic? You think drugging me is romantic?”

  “Huh?” His face relaxed as he began to understand. “The roofie? Whew. I thought you were mad about something else.”

  “What else would I be mad about? You drugged Shasta on her birthday!” Ulyssa said, struggling against Johnny trying to claw her way free. Blood was seeping from shallow scratches on his right forearm.

  “I wanted to drug you! Not her! Damn! She’s too uptight for me!”

  I don’t know why this pissed me off more than being drugged, but I decided it was time to help Ulyssa. I growled and tackled him from the side knocking him into the cabinets. I issued a quick double tap to his ribcage, making him gasp. Ulyssa stood up and dropped an elbow on his midrift while I had him pinned to the counter.

  “Damn-it-to-helllll!!!” he grunted before passing out from shock.

  I stood up, talking trash to his still form. “That’s how we roll!” I said, as we slapped high fives.

  Christal chuckled. “You girls are going to make great ‘sales executives’. You’re tougher than nails! And a touch crazy to boot!”

  “Thanks for the offer Christal, but I don’t think this is the right line of work for us. Too many occupational hazards. By the way, your roofie pills work just fine. I didn’t remember most of my birthday party, but I did earn a few dollars dancing,” I said, smiling at her as we left.

  “You ladies come back and visit anytime. You certainly make things interesting.”

  We stomped down the stairs and out to the Pinto. I was starting to doubt using Craigslist for job hunting. The consumer electronic retail specialist was probably a job selling stolen radios.

  “Let’s skip the retail specialist interview. I have a feeling it won’t be as advertised,” Ulyssa said. “Let’s go to the library and loo
k for more jobs until our five o’clock nail technician interview. I’m not really excited about that one either.”

  The Charleston library was triple the size of our local library and it had rows and rows of public computers. We didn’t have to wait long for one to open up. We pulled up Craigslist and browsed for new jobs that had been posted since yesterday. Most of them were the same jobs, just worded differently. Now that we knew how these questionable jobs were advertised, it was easy to eliminate them after reading the job description.

  “This one looks legit,” I said, scooting closer, so I could read the qualification and responsibilities section.

  Exterminators Wanted

  Seeking exterminators capable of eliminating a pest.

  Excellent pay and benefits.

  No references necessary.

  Call Nicolo 888 537 9090

  “I used to help my dad chase raccoons outta our yard, so I think I can handle this for a little while until we find a better job,” I said.

  “I’ve put out rat traps before. Maybe we should check it out. Couldn’t be any crazier than the other interviews we’ve been to today. I wonder what the pay is like?”

  We walked outside the library, so Ulyssa could call Nicolo. “Good afternoon. I’m calling about the exterminator job... umhmm. Okay. Sounds good. See you then.”

  She closed her cell phone. “Looks like we’ve got another interview at seven o’clock in Pinch. It’s just outside of town, off Highway 114, so we can swing by if our 5 o’clock doesn’t work out.”

  “They didn’t want any of our info? That’s weird. They must be desperate. We’ll have some serious negotiating power, But, we’ll need to play up our experience.”

  “Fingers crossed... we’ll be nail techs, not exterminators by the end of the day,” Ulyssa responded.

  When we walked into Fancy Lady salon every technician stopped talking to stare at us. An excited Filipino lady rushed to the front of the store.

  “You want cellulite treatment?” she asked, grabbing a fistful of my fat roll. “It make you lose five pounds! Instant!”

  It took every bit of restraint to not thump her on the head. I smacked her hand away and she moved over to Ulyssa.

  “Ohhhh, you have pretty face. Fat ass, but pretty face,” she said, jabbing a finger into Ulyssa’s right butt cheek. “We have seaweed wrap to help your big booty. Come in. Come in,” she invited, gesturing around the pink tinted room.

  I don’t think we’d ever really considered salon visits from the worker point of view. But we looked around the room now with a different set of eyes. The small stools and cramped quarters seemed incapable of supporting anyone over 100 pounds. Ulyssa and I exchanged a look that clearly conveyed that this wasn’t the workplace for us. We turned and left without another word. We could hear the Filipino lady shouting from the door “We wrap tight with plastic. Take another two inches off butt.” In defiance, Ulyssa shook her butt even harder as we walked to the car.

  We stopped by Taco Bell for some cheap dinner before our final appointment. We enjoyed our Chalupas while recounting the day’s adventures.

  “I can’t believe I was a phone sex operator! Why all the secretive wording? Why not just come right out and say phone sex operator wanted?” she wondered out loud.

  “I don’t know. It’s not illegal. I think. Maybe they’re worried about pranks. You made a great virgin, not such a good girl gone wild though!” I said, choking on my Diet Pepsi. “What about that wildlife package? What the heck was that all about?”

  We both looked at each other. “Eeeeewwwww. Gross! No way! Stop! Stop! Let’s talk about something else?” I pleaded. “Johnny is trying really hard to get you back.”

  “He never had me. We only went on a few dates.”

  “What happened to make you dump him?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You got mad at me when you thought I’d taken shooting lessons without you, but you won’t share important boyfriend details with me. That’s some BS!”

  “Fine. We went mudding for our first date and he wouldn’t let me drive his truck. So, I told him I didn’t want to go out with him again.”

  “I thought you went on three dates with him?”

  She exhaled, “He promised he would let me drive, if I went out with him again. So I went out with him again, but he borrowed his brother’s old truck for that date and tried to act like it was the same thing.”

  “Why were you making such a big deal outta driving his truck? I mean it’s not like it’s a beamer or anything. It’s just a truck.”

  “I’ll tell you what I told him... It’s about trust. He didn’t trust me enough to let me drive his truck, which means he valued it more than me.”

  “And...”

  “The third time we went out, he let me drive his truck.”

  “That’s good. It means he trusts you!”

  “Yeah, he did... until I wrecked it,” she said, finishing off her nachos with a flourish.

  “You wrecked his truck after all that trust pycho-babble?”

  “Yeah, but it was a minor fender-bender,” she said, taking a sip of her soda. “I backed into a tree. It didn’t really do any damage to his truck or the tree, but he made a big deal about it. I don’t need that kind of drama in my life.”

  “Even after all that, he’s still in love with you?”

  She shrugged, “He’s only interested because I’m not. I wish he’d leave me alone. It’s stalking.”

  “Well, you tried to stab him in the crotch and I think that surpasses stalking on the illegal scale,” I replied, grinning evilly.

  “Deputy Hodde is so into you that I bet he’d let me off with a warning if I had impaled Johnny.”

  “He’s Nitro PD, not Charleston. He has no jurisdiction here,” I said, sticking my tongue out at her. “We should be talking about interview strategies anyway, not guys!”

  “I think we should be extremely confident and exaggerate our experience. They’re not going to know any different anyhow.”

  I shook my head, “They’ll figure it out real quick when we can’t get rid of the pests.”

  “Nah. We’ll just find out what type of animal they want us to get rid of, research it on the internet and then we can ask Tater or somebody to help us get rid of it. But we won’t tell them we’re getting paid to do it, of course.”

  That’s a pretty reasonable argument, I relented starting to psych myself up for the role of confident exterminator.

  “Are you sure this is the right address?” I asked.

  Ulyssa double checked the piece of scrap paper and nodded yes. “I guess everyone needs exterminators. It kinda makes sense since they’re so far out here in the middle of nowhere.”

  “I still can’t believe there’s a strip club in a town called Pinch,” I laughed.

  We could see the highway from the parking lot, otherwise I wouldn’t have stepped one foot inside this place. The neon lights flashed “HUBBA HUBBA” causing red shadows to mamba over the the parking lot full of old, cars and beat up trucks. The only exception was two polished, black towncars parked near the front door.

  “Dang! If that’s the owner’s car, I bet they’ll pay us real good for taking care of their pest problem. Having critters running around in a strip club can’t be good for business.”

  “Yeah, I wonder if they have insurance in case one of the dancers gets bit? Imagine sitting there getting ready for the show wearing nothing but feathers and tassels,” Ulyssa said, twirling her fingers in circles by her boobs for emphasis, “... and BAM! A squirrel bites a boob!”

  We both shuddered thinking about a crazed squirrel swinging by the teeth from our boobs.

  “Ouch! Don’t forget they carry diseases too? That would doubly suck! Getting a squirrel bite and a rabies shot in the boob! I hate squirrels!” I said.

  “Yeah, me too. They’re evil, furry rats!”

  “What if there are squirrels in the parking lot right now just waiting to atta
ck us for our boobjerky? Maybe they’re circling the car looking for a way in...”

  POP! CRACK!

  A jagged line appeared in the Pinto’s windshield making us jump and grab our boobs protecting them from an impending squirrel attack. A truck squealed its tires pulling out of the parking lot sending another spray of gravel at the Pinto. We weren’t going to be very good exterminators getting freaked out by imaginary, carnivorous squirrels. We tumbled out of the car and scurried into the club. Just in case there were crazy squirrels on the loose.

  The inside of the club was much nicer than the exterior. It had an edgy, sexy vibe to it like we had just walked onto the set of CSI: Las Vegas. Beefy bouncers, scantily clad waitress, and sweaty men waving dollar bills. Topless dancers were shimming and twirling on stage.

  A waitress dressed like Mrs. Jetson walked up to us asking, “How can I help you girls?”

  “We’re here to see Nicolo.”

  “Oh!” she said, her eyes registering shock, but she was on customer service autopilot. “Right this way.”

  She led us to back room and pulled the heavy curtains to the side, so we could step through.

  “Would you like anything to drink?”

  “Two diet Cokes, please.”

  She nodded and left us alone in the room.

  We walked over and sat down on a giant chair shaped like a pair of red lips. I bounced on the couch to test it’s softness. I’d always wanted to know if these seats were comfortable because it was difficult to tell from the pictures. A few minutes later, four men entered the room through the door opposite the kissable couch.

  “Good evenings, ladies! I’m Nicolo.” He unbuttoned his leather jacket releasing a pot belly over his belt. He waved his hand and the other three men positioned themselves by the door. “So, yous are here about the exterminator job?”

  His thick New Jersey accent made it difficult to tell whether he was telling us or asking us. So, we just silently nodded at him.

  Very calm and cool. Confident exterminators.

 

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