g-w-3-d-damn:

(Click here for Part 1)

“Don’t
I have to sign anything before I’m technically employed?” Miss
asked.

Loki
scratched his pointed chin.

“Ah,
yes, you’re right,” he said.

“And
if we’re working around food, I expect a big-ass stack of all the
food safety laws and health codes you just broke,” she said.

“Fine,”
sighed Loki, “it’s this way to the office.”

He
unhooked the red rope and gestured her upstairs.  The sign had
changed from “Employees only” to “Club Members, 21 and Over
Only.”

At
the top of the stairs, a path led to the loft, and one path down a
hall.  A set of steel elevator doors greeted her at the end of the
hall.
“Why didn’t we just take the elevator upstairs?  Wait, I
didn’t see an elevator downstairs,” she said.

Loki
pushed the candyapple red button and the steel doors slid open with a
happy ding.  They stepped inside.  A row of buttons inside the
elevator each had a corresponding label that read “Roof.
Clubhouse.  Office.  Shop.  Janitor.  Storage.  Garage.  Cellar.
Basement.”  Loki pressed the button for the Office.  The doors in
the back of the elevator opened to a small room with a desk and
filing cabinet.  He took a heavy stack of paperwork out of the filing
cabinet.

“Here,
take this back downstairs and fill it out.  I’ll be back down in  a
few hours,” he said.

“A
few hours?” she questioned.

“The
shop is closed from 5-9 daily,” he said, “you won’t be bothered.
Oh, and don’t bother me; I need to do product testing and change
clothes before we re-open.”

“So,
I’m stuck here reading and signing things until 9?” she said.

“You’ll
get paid for it.  Restroom is under the stairs.  Pens are by the
register,” he said.

“Got
it,” she said.

She
returned to the candy counter, now covered in sex toys and adult
novelties.  The gumball machine was filled with benwa balls.  The
Kinder Eggs were egg-shaped vibrators, the Cadbury Creme eggs were
Tenga eggs, except for one carton that remained as Cadbury Creme
eggs.  She shrugged at the inconsistency and took a pen from the
register.  She took a seat on a candyapple red cushioned stainless
steel stool and started to read through the employment agreement.
Her eyes kept wandering to the products around her.  Her distracted
eyes explored the changes in the shop between pages.  She chuckled at
the fact that bags of gummy bears turned into bags of gummy dicks.
The sign read “Tell them to eat a bag of dicks!  $2.99 plus tax.”
The Fruit Stripe Gum to edible underwear impressed her.  She took a
peek inside the drink cooler, and spotted Josta in a glass bottle.
She immediately swung the candy-apple-red ceramic edged glass front
fridge door open and grabbed the bottle.  She twisted the top of the
bottle fruitlessly; the old Josta came in plastic bottles with
twist-caps.  This beverage required more force to free it from it’s
glass prison.  She looked around for a bottle opener in a panic.

“Eck?
Eck?” a squeaking sound asked her.

She
turned to see a mannequin hand pointed toward the side of the
candyapple red drink cooler.  The squeaking sound came from the
mannequin’s head as she nodded.

“Eck
eeeegk eck,” the mannequin said.

Miss
looked to where she pointed.  On the side of the refrigerator hung a
dong shaped bottle opener.  She snatched it by the shaft with a
deathgrip and popped the top of the bottle.  The tink sound of the
bottlecap against the floor cut through the hiss of carbonation.  She
brought the bottle to her nose- the miniscule spritzes of popped
bubbles tickled her nose as she sniffed the bottle.  She took a
small, investigative sip, then chugged half the bottle.  Her lips
left the bottle reluctantly and she sighed.

“Where
in the fuck did he get this?” Miss asked the mannequin.

The
mannequin shrugged.  Miss took her drink back to the counter and
continued to read through the terms and conditions, signing her name
or writing her initials in the blanks provided on page after page of
arbitraments.  The twilight from the loft windows dimmed.  Miss’ face
crept closer and closer to the documentation as the light dissipated.
She blinked, looked around.  The shop had grown dark while she
concentrated on the printed pages.  The streetlamps outside flicked
to light in their orange glow.  Even in muted colors of low light,
the pinks and purples and brightest blues of the products still
showed.  Miss lit up her cellphone and looked around for a
lightswitch.

“There’s
gotta be a light in here somewhere,” she said.  

Miss
lit up her cellphone and looked around for a lightswitch.

“Hey
guys,” she asked the mannequins, “do you know how to turn on the
lights?  Or maybe just a lamp?”

At
the mention of the word lamp, the mannequins looked away from her and
froze in place.

“Oh,
come on guys, just a little light,” Miss said.

“Eck-eck-eck-ek-kekekek!”

The
mannequin Miss looked at shook her head rapidly.  Miss caught one
staring at a standing lamp.  Once caught, the mannequin straightened
and stilled as though there were nothing to look at in her area.
Miss went to the lamp and found the double-cherry ornament on the end
of the chain to turn it on.  The mannequins all squeaked, shook their
heads, put their hands up in a stop motion.

“Well
if you don’t want me to touch this one, tell me where the light
switch is!” Miss said.

“Eck!
Egg eck, ekekekek!” they said.

They
pressed their palms together and shook their heads, pleading with
Miss for her mercy, and to not touch the lamp.  Miss sighed.

“I
have to finish that paperwork,” she said.

She
pulled on the cherries.  The chain clicked, and a burst of red light
poured from the cherry shade, faded to pink, then to white as the
bulb heated.  An acrid smell and puff of smoke lifted from the lamp.
Miss held her hands up to the lampshade.

“No
no, no, no fire,” Miss said, “I’ll do whatever you want, just,
don’t burn anything down, k?”

Almost
as if in response, the light warmed to a yellow tint.  The smoke
smell faded.

“Whew!
Don’t scare me like that,” she said.

She
returned to her paperwork.

“Ah,
that’s better.  See guys, it wasn’t that bad!  Guys?” Miss said.

The
mannequins did not respond.  At that moment they seemed more like
genuine inanimate mannequins that at any other time she had known
them.  

“Okay,
silent treatment, maybe I deserved that, I didn’t know the lamp would
smoke so much, I’m sorry,” she said.

She
returned her focus to the papers.  On one of the last pages, the fine
print mentioned the lamp, and to never ever light it.  

“Uh-oh,”
she said.

She
sucked her lips into her mouth and turned the page with raised
eyebrows without signing the page.  She absentmindedly popped the
cherry flavored plug back in her mouth and worked through the rest.
Behind her, the bell tinked twice and went silent.  She turned to
look.  The bell hung upside down, it’s clacker suspended in air.
Miss stared at the clacker in it’s strange position and a shudder ran
down her spine.  She realized that if someone opened the door, it
would fall and ring, she just hadn’t expected it to look so stuck.
She turned her back to the door and signed the next page.  The closed
sign silently turned to open.  The door opened, and a lady entered
the shop.  The bell struggled against the antigravity enchantment.
The lady approached the counter.  The bell broke free and jingled
with unrestrained fury.  Miss startled, jumped, turned, pulled her
pepper spray.

“Oh
dear, don’t set that off, you’ll ruin the product,” the lady
crooned.

She
wore huge red sphere earrings, a matching red gem at her neck on a
collar of white lace, and a frilly carnation colored apron over a
lascivious hot pink dress.  She wore her blonde hair coiled in an
updo and pinned with a pronounced headband made to look like a lace
tiara.  She painted her hot pink lips with a roll-on gloss.  Her
eyelids came pre-painted in a shade that felt too, too blue.  Miss
held the canister with purpose and a glare that said she would not
hesitate to melt this lady’s false lashes right into her eyeballs with
the spray, product replacement be damned.

“Lady,
we’re closed!” Miss said.

“We?
Oh ho ho, you must be a new hire, because That’s not what the sign
says,” she said, “and besides that, the light is on!”

The
lady waved to indicate the forbidden floor lamp.

“I
suppose you’re gonna wanna speak to my manager?  Tough shit, I don’t
have one, and I don’t work here” she said.

“Really?
Then you won’t be able to take my order for three hundred boxes of
chocolate covered cherries?”

“No,
I won’t,” Miss said, “but I’ll take your name and leave a note if
it’ll get you to leave me the hell alone.”
“You’re a spunky
one.  Call me Highness,” she said.

“I’m
assuming Highness isn’t your real name,” Miss concluded.

“You
would assume correctly!  Nobody uses their real name in here,”
Highness said, “And you are, miss?”

“Miss
will do just fine,” said Miss.

“Yes,
Miss, you will do just fine,” Highness said.

Highness
approached the counter.  Miss hopped off the stool and backed away,
canister still aimed at the ridiculous blue eyeshadow.  Highness took
two of the Cadbury Creme eggs which had not changed form with the
others.  She twirled her fingers, manipulating the two chocolate eggs
around each other in the palm of her hand.  She kissed them both
suggestively and offered one to Miss.

“Here,”
she said, “to commemorate your new position within the company.  My
gift, to you!”

“Don’t
need it,” she said, “just need you to leave.”

“Just
accept my hospitality, and I’ll go,” Highness said, “and I won’t
mention anything about the little incident with the lamp.”

“Fine.
Leave it on the counter and step back,” Miss said.

Highness
did so.  Miss took the egg with suspicion.  Highness lifted the other
egg and tinked her egg together with the one Miss held as if to
toast.  Highness unwrapped her egg and sucked it until the yolk
showed.  Miss followed suit, held eye contact with the strange woman
as she sucked the whole egg into her mouth and crushed it with her
tongue.  Miss reveled in the sensation and flavors as the crème
oozed through the cracks in the chocolate shell and melted against
her tongue.  Miss swirled the melting mixture with her tongue and
swallowed.  Highness chuckled, and finished the rest of her egg in
one bite.  She withdrew a pink envelope from her frilly carnation
purse.  Cherry colored wax sealed the envelope with a double cherry
mark imprint, and cherry colored lace decorated the exterior.  She
flicked the envelope toward Miss, who made no effort to catch or
dodge the projectile.  The envelope bonked against her and fell to
the ground.

“Do
give that to Loki when you see them, it should more than cover the
cost of the sweets on the list that I’ve ordered,” Highness said.

“Them?
Are… we unsure of Loki’s gender?” Miss asked.

“Oh
we’re certain of their genders,” Highness said, “it is their
quantity that brings us the confusion.  I must run now.  Ta-ta!”

She
swept herself out the door.  The magic bell jingled furiously, as if
it screamed at her to leave.  The door pushed itself shut after her.
The door slammed itself so hard that the swinging sign switched
itself from “come in!” to “back in one hour.”  The mannequins
relaxed, but stared at Miss in concern.  She sighed, set the safety
on the pepper spray and pocketed it as she bent to retrieve the
envelope.  Miss flicked the pink envelope in her hand.  Her instincts
told her that the door didn’t lock itself and change the sign for no
damn reason.  

“That
egg was good, though,” she muttered.

She
left the pink envelope by the register, picked up her completed
paperwork and went upstairs to the elevator door to nowhere.  She
pushed the red button, and stepped inside.  She pressed the button
beside the label that read “Office.”  The elevator dinged without
moving, and the back elevator doors slid open.  Behind her, she heard
a mechanical pulse and rhythmic squeak.  She turned to see Loki,
shirtless, flushed, panting, knees on the ground and elbows on the
wood of the desk, his ass and legs dressed in wine colored lace and
garters.  He flinched rhythmically with the sound of whatever
machination sucked him and hid his cock from view.  He looked back at
Miss over his shoulder without much reaction.  He turned his face
down toward the machine, twisted his hips to hide the action from
her, sank himself deep into the machine, and held it with both hands
to steady himself so he could switch it off.  He stayed frozen in
this compromised position, caught his breath.  Miss said nothing, and
stood in unprocessable silence for a long moment.

“Did…
Do you… Did you… Did you?” Loki asked.

“D-did
I what?” Miss asked.

“Want
or intend to witness this?” he asked.

“I’m
okay,” she said, “I didn’t mean to, I mean, your privacy, I’m
sorry.”
“You have no need to apologize, this office isn’t
exactly private,” he said, “but I need to know if it was your
wish to stay and watch when you’ve lingered this long.”

“Oh,
well, I don’t mind, I mean, as long as that’s what you’re into… but
I don’t wanna be here if you don’t want me to be,” she said.

He
lifted his head to look at her.

“I
feel the same,” he said, “was there a reason you came here,
something urgent?”

“Well,
kinda, but it can wait until you’re finished,” she said.

She
took a half step back into the elevator.

“Wait,”
he said.

She
paused.

“I
want you to be here, if you wish it.  Don’t go,” he said.

“Okay,”
she said.

His
eyes flitted up and down as he studied her.  He locked eyes on her
face.  His nose dipped down, his eyes took a short tour of her body.
He looked in her eyes one last time before he turned his attention
back to the machine.  He huffed as he turned it on.  His lithe
muscles tensed.  The elevator beeped at Miss in annoyance.  Miss took
a step forward into the office and sat on the floor, covered her
mouth with the stack of paperwork as she watched him flinch.  He took
quick peeks at her to see if she continued to watch him.  He swooned
every time his eyes caught her intense stare.  His skin glistened as
he broke a sweat.  At random, the machine switched it’s rhythm to a
stronger triple beat.

“Whew!
Ah, a-hah!  Hah, I did not expect- Ah!” Loki stammered.

“It
did that on it’s own?” Miss asked.

“Yes,
it… Oh, Miss?  Miss, I’m going to come,” he warned.

He
turned his face from her with widened eyes.  She held her papers
tighter.  She scooted to better see his face, even as she kept her
distance.  His jaw dropped, and his lips made a pleasing circle.  He
spasmed and jerked with barely a sound, but the slight hiss and soft
noises from his throat electrified her.  He turned the machine off
with a shaking thumb.  The machine powered down and released him.  He
lowered himself to the ground and tucked his cock back inside the
lace as best he could.

“That
was hot,” Miss whispered.

“I’m
glad you think so,” Loki said, “so what brought you up here?”

“Well,
uhm,” Miss stammered.

“Come
now, your name is Communication, you can do this,” Loki encouraged.

“A
lady was just in here asking for chocolate cherries and I have no
idea how she got in,” Miss blurted.

Loki
swallowed.  He grabbed his black slacks and slipped them on.  Socks,
shoes, tight black dress shirt, black belt, all on and straightened.
He ran downstairs.

“Did
the lamp turn itself on?” Loki asked.

The
mannequins shook their heads, some clung to each other.

“Alright,
spill it, who did it?” he asked them.  

They
flinched, but would not snitch.  

“What
happens when that light is on?” Miss asked.

“Damn
thing is part of a contract with… what’s this?” he asked.

He
picked up the envelope.

“She
left that, said there was enough money in it to cover her purchase,”
Miss said.

Loki
opened the envelope and read the candy order.  It was a tall order
for two hundred chocolate covered cherries and an invitation to a
wedding.  Several hundred dollars in large bills accompanied the
card.
“Whose wedding?” Miss asked.

“Mine,
she thinks,” Loki scoffed.

Loki
tried to rip up the card.  The ripped edges caught fire and fused
together.  His hackles raised, his hair grew into a mess that stuck
out on end in weird places.  He tore and ripped and tore it again and
again.  The firelight flicked across his menacing visage to the music
of the fire alarm’s deafening shriek.

“Shut
the hell up!” he called to the fire alarm.

The
last shrill shriek of the fire alarm fell flat as it silenced.  He
slammed the letter, envelope, money and all, on the epoxy counter and
dumped a tub of salt on top of it.  He pressed his palm into the salt
and rubbed.  The abrasive salt scraped bits of paper fuzz from the
envelope.  Sparks flicked from between the salt around his seemingly
fireproof palm.  Over time, he ground the entire letter away.  He
turned to the mannequins in anger.

“Now
to figure which of you traitors turned on the lamp,” Loki said,
“I’d rather not have to melt the whole lot of you so fess up, go
turn the lamp off, and I’ll let you walk away.”

The
mannequins stood defiantly or clung together behind the defiant ones,
depending upon their personalities.  Miss huffed and walked to the
lamp.  She held her hand out and clasped the cherry ornament on the
end of the chain.

“It
was me,” she said, “I turned on the stupid lamp.”

Loki
turned to her.  He held his hands out to his sides, faced the ceiling
with a growl, rolled his eyes, and dropped his hands to the sides of
his legs with a slap.

“Didn’t
you read in the contract not to turn on the lamp?  Like ever?” Loki
said.

“Let
me ask, can you read the contract like this?” Miss said.

She
clicked off the lamp.  The pair stood in the darkness of night.  Loki
paused.

“Oh,
right.  This is why I don’t hire in winter.  I knew there was a
reason.  Anyway as long as she didn’t purchase and leave with any
merchandise, we should be fine.”

The
lamp switched itself on and the letter reformed itself in flame above
the salt.

“Son
of a fuck,” Loki muttered under his breath, “what did she buy?”

“She
ordered the boxes of cherries and took two Cadburry Creme Eggs,”
Miss said.

“Hah,
we don’t have any of those, they turn into… what are those doing
out?” Loki asked.

He
picked up the carton of Cadburry Creme Eggs and studied them.  His
face opened in shock.

“Oh
no, Oh no!” he said.

“What?”
Miss asked.

“No,
they’re expired!  We can’t sell these!  No, no no, just, ugh,”
whined Loki.

He
sighed and his shoulders slumped.

“They’re
ruined,” he said.

He
tossed one to a mannequin.  The mannequin held the egg up, shrugged
it’s shoulders, tilted it’s head.

“Eh,
eck?” it asked.

He
tossed eggs to each of the mannequins, spoke as he distributed them.

“Yes,
egg.  You all deserve a treat for not snitching on Miss Communication
over here.  That was very brave of you all, and I’m sorry I yelled at
you.” Loki said.

“Eck?
Eck!  Mmmmm… Eck.  Mek!  MMM-Egg!  Egg!  Egg egg!  Meg egg.  Eck
Meg.  Mmmmmeg!”

“Why
would you think they’d turn it on?” Miss asked.

“The
woman you met, Highness… she’s the queen of fake women.  She’s made
of plastic, same as them,” Loki said.

“Yeah,
but… our mannequins are awesome, and she’s, like, totally not,”
Miss said.

“That’s
because she’s-”

“Fake,”
Miss completed his sentence.

“Yes,”
Loki said.

“And
these guys?  They’re genuine.  I like them,” Miss said.

“That’s
good, because you’ll probably turn into one soon,” he said.

“I
what!” Miss shrieked.

“That
egg you ate, she had to have enchanted it,” Loki said, “that’s
how I came across these.  They’re practically immortal, some of them
from very different ages, but they were all beautiful ladies once.
And she cursed them fake.”

“How
long do I have before that happens?” Miss asked.

“You’d
have to ask them,” Loki said.

“Mmmmegg.”

That
was all one said with a shrug.

“Wait,”
Loki said, “Where’s your application?  Is it completed?”

“Yeah,
I brought it upstairs, it’s in the, uh, office,” she said.

She
ran to keep up with his long-legged wide gait.  He took the stairs
two or three at a time, and plunked himself down at the desk.  He
sped through the application.  He sought any breach he could find to
break the purchase of the Cadbury Eggs, rendering the purchase as a
theft.  Anything that would prove she was not yet an employee when
the purchase was made, or showed that she broke the contract prior to
accepting the order.  He found the unsigned paper, the one with the
fine print about never ever under any circumstances turning on the
lamp, with the consequence of immediate termination of employment.

“Ah-hah!
Here it is, it… wait… You never signed this,” he said.

“Does
that mean I’m not an employee yet?” Miss asked.

He
rifled through the rest of the paperwork.  He let out a heavy sigh.

“No,
you’re definitely employed, if you’d still like to be employed.  It’s
all here except this page,” Loki said.

He
gently thunked his forehead against the desk.  He slid the page to
her without looking.

“You
still have to sign this page before you can start work, but if you
don’t, then the curse can’t effect you,” he said.

“Can
I still work here if I don’t sign the page?” Miss asked.

“No.”

“I
had to ask,” she said.

“I
know,” he said, “I was really hoping you’d stay, too, you danced
so well… Wait what are you doing?”

“Signing
it,” she said.

“You
can’t do that, the curse can’t effect you unless you sign it,” he
said.

“And
I can’t work here if I don’t, so I’m signing it,” she said, “this
place is awesome, I don’t care what the damn curse is, this place is
worth whatever price that’s gonna cost.”

The
ink shimmered as she finished signing her name.  The page shimmered
and shimmied out of her hand.  The rest of the stack of signed papers
swirled into the air, reorganized itself into a completed
application, glowed for a moment, and filed itself.  The filing
cabinet slammed itself shut.  Loki sat in stunned silence.  

“You
didn’t have to do that,” he said.

“Look,”
she said, “if that bitch can manage to turn me into a fake, she’s
gonna have a hard time doing it.”

“That’s
true,” Loki said.

“Besides,”
she said, “Operation Food Safety Inspection is going to be
awesome.”

“What’s
Operation Food Safety Inspection?” Loki asked warily.

“It’s
my plan to get that bitch to break up with Thor and hook up with us
before that other bitch gets a chance to marry you.  C’mon, I’ll show
you how it works,” Miss said.

She
held her hand out to Loki.  He took it and kissed her knuckles once
more.
“You have no idea what you just signed up for,” he
said.
“Neither do you,” she retorted, “Now do me a favor and tell me how in the hell you found Josta cola!”

——-
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