"Are you sure you're going to be warm enough like that?" asked Emma. "It's a bit cold out."
"You're joking, aren't you?" Mel Heebiegeebie replied, looking down at the bra and string vest she was wearing. "I want the paparazzi to get as many photos of these as they can, before they shrink back to normal again!"
"They say that they end up smaller than they were before you got pregnant," Victoria put in. "Especially if you're daft enough to breast feed."
"Yeah, but breast feeding stops you from getting a fat bum," Mel agreed.
"Like Emma's, you mean?" Melanie beamed. "How many kids have you had, Em?"
She ducked, as Emma's lollipop stick flew through the air and embedded in the wall behind her.
"I might get some implants," Victoria said, fingering her swollen, lactating mammaries. "David says he likes them this way, and he'll get an inflatable woman if they go all saggy again."
"Humph!" snorted Mel. "Does he even know what 'inflatable' means?"
"Well, he knows it's got something to do with football."
"D'you think I should get some implants?" Melanie pulled her T-shirt tight over her chest.
"Could do," Emma nodded. "But don't you need to get some tits to put them into, first?"
She ducked, as Melanie's bar-bell flew through the air and embedded in the wall behind her.
"Will you pair stop pissing about?" growled Mel, brushing her hair from one totally messy state to another. "And can we go, Please! I want my boobs on the front pages of tomorrow's papers, and they won't get there by hanging around here!"
"Gawd, what's the rush? The party's not for hours!" Victoria chastised. "You're only jealous because Geri was all over the papers last week!"
"Oh aye? Well, next person mentions that fat bitch gets a smack in the mouth, Ok?" Mel threatened.
She swung the door open and stormed theatrically from the room. The door slammed shut behind her.
"Oh, Shite!" her muted voice came from the hallway.
The door swung open again, violently.
"Look!" she shouted, coming back into the room. "It's Ruined!"
Emma screamed. Victoria fainted.
"Ooooh, your shirt!" Melanie soothed. She approached Mel, hands outstretched. "Let's have a look..."
"You keep them bloody hands offa me!" Mel warned.
Melanie turned aside, and busied herself 'reviving' Victoria, instead.
"What happened?" Emma sobbed, helping Mel to untuck the string vest from her combat pants.
Mel looked at the damage.
"It caught on the door handle."
"Oh, God! The poor thing!" Emma was almost in tears. Clothes had suffered!
Mel turned from the damaged garment for a moment, to address Melanie.
"OY!" she snapped. "You don't do the kiss of life from that end!"
"You do it your way..." came Melanie's muffled voice, "...and I'll do it mine!"
"Look!" whimpered Emma, drawing out a length of twine from Mel's string vest. "It's pulled right out!"
"Oh, bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger!" snarled Mel. "We haven't got time for this!"
She pulled up her shirt so that she could attack the broken piece with her teeth, chewing at it as she hurried back out through the door.
Emma followed, dragging Melanie and the slowly recovering Victoria after her, slamming the door behind them.
Mel finally managed to detach the odd piece of her string vest, and tossed it in the direction of one of the ashtrays in the hotel hallway.
"Oh, Christ, the left one's moved again!" the dresser sighed. "Why did you have to get such cheap breast implants?"
"Tee hee," replied Britney. "Must have been when I was giving the bellhop his tip."
"Dearie, I really don't want to hear what you did to the bellhop's tip!" the dresser snorted, daintily flicking his hair away from his eyes with a flamboyant twitch. "Just sit still, while I straighten them again."
With a disgusted grimace on his face, he set about massaging her boobs back into alignment.
"I'd have thought you could have been happy enough with the pair you had," he muttered. "Plenty of people out there who would have been glad of even a small pair!"
"Have you nearly finished?" Britney complained. "The construction guys are waiting to polish my teeth."
"Oooh, yes!" The dresser went all starry-eyed. "Those lovely big muscular men with their grinding machines.... Some girls get all the luck!"
"OW!" complained Britney. "Don't squeeze so hard.... Not unless you really mean it, that is..." A beaming smile crossed her face.
The dresser snatched his hands away.
"The very idea!" he huffed. "Can't you stop for just ten minutes?"
"Awwww..." Britney whined. "Don't be such a fuddy. C'mon, talk dirty to me!"
"I am paid," the dresser growled, in his whiny voice, "to make sure that you put your clothes on the right way round, not to satisfy your sexual urges. Now, have you remembered to put your knickers on, today?"
"Oh, do I have to? It wastes so much time, taking them off again."
"Just put them on! You're leaving little enough to the imagination already!"
"Oh, well," Britney sighed. "I suppose they'll keep my vibrator from falling out."
When she had finally finished being dressed, had had her teeth ground back down to white, and the surgeon was done moving fat from various parts of her body to various other parts with a syringe, Britney decided to go down to the hotel foyer to check out the talent.
She told her thirty-two assistants that she was going down to buy a corsage, and ducked quickly out of the suite.
"Going down, maybe," her pedicurist muttered to her nose-hair inspector. "But I'll bet it's got fuck all to do with corsages!"
Out in the hallway, she was overtaken by a group of young boys, running and playing boisterously.
"Hey, you kids!" she shouted after them. "No running in the halls!"
They turned to look at her.
"Hey! It's Britney!" one of them shouted.
"Yeah, she sucks!" said another.
"Hmmm..." said Britney. "Maybe when you're a little older. But stop running past people!" She looked down at her chest. "You could have knocked things out of place."
"Nyahhh!" the boys shouted.
They ran off, knocking over an hotel ashtray as they went.
"Look at the mess you've made!" Britney shouted at their retreating backs.
She kicked at the rubbish from the ashtray as she walked past, on her way to the elevator.
A half-chewed, moist Gummy Bear rolled over at her kick – and became attached to a piece of string that had been laying on the floor near the ashtray.
'Five' is five 'One's.
The Ugly One crawled out from under a pile of clothes, magazines, and empty bottles, which had been dumped on top of him by the prostitute who had been hired by the others to 'look after' him.
"Shit, man!" the Ignorant One said to him. "What are you doing down there?"
"Shit, man, I don't know," the Ugly One replied. "I thought I was doing Ok, so I took the bag offa my head. Next thing I know, I wake up here!"
"Oh shit, man!" said the Obnoxious One. "D'you mean you still haven't got yourself laid?"
The Braindead One and the Slimy One entered the room.
"Hey! Shit, man!" said the Slimy One. "How did it go with the girl, last night?"
"Like shit, man. He took his bag off and she cold-cocked him!" The Ignorant One brought him up to date with the news.
"Aww shit, man, you screwed it up again! I thought you were sure to lose your cherry this time!" the Slimy One sounded exasperated.
"Shit, man!" said the Braindead One. "Duh... i forgets what i is was gonna say."
"Shit, man, it can't have been important, then," the Obnoxious One pointed out. He picked up a pile of letters from amidst the huge stack of empty beer cans on the table next to him, and started going through them.
"Holy shit, man! We're missing a party!" he said.
"Shit, man! Don't tell me we're paying for beer and women when we could get someone else to spring for the bill!" exclaimed the Ignorant One.
"Shit, man! Keep it quiet! He doesn't know!" the Slimy One hissed.
"Shit, man; who doesn't know what?" demanded the Ugly One.
"Shit, man. Duh... You doesn't know that we is does pays womens to shagging you, so don't tell you!"
"Shit, man!" The Ugly One's face turned desolate.
It also turned the milk that was sitting on the room's courtesy cabinet – not an easy task, with powdered milk!
"Tough shit, man! Screw that, anyway!" shouted the Ignorant One. "How long until the party starts?"
"Shit, man..." pleaded the Obnoxious One.
"Oh shit, man!" complained the Slimy One. "Why do you wear a watch, if you can't tell the time?"
"Shit, man, 'cause it's cool!"
"Duh... Shit, man." The Braindead One looked over the Obnoxious One's shoulder, at the invitation. "Is starts in two hourses."
"Shit, man!" the Obnoxious One snapped. "Don't show me up like that!" He swiped at the Braindead One with the pile of letters.
"Shit, man, i sorry." The Braindead One sat on the floor and started to cry.
"Aw shit, man! Look what you've done now!" whined the Slimy One. "Now we'll have to take him out and buy him a new doll!"
The braindead One stopped crying and looked hopefully up at the Slimy One. The other three tried to make themselves look busy.
"Shit, man! I ain't taking him on my own!" the Slimy one grouched. "If I go, we all go!"
The Slimy One turned to look back up the street toward the hotel, where the Obnoxious One and the Braindead one had stopped, and were crouched over at the kerb.
"Shit, man! What's the hold up?" he shouted.
"Shit, man, you won't believe this! C'mere!" the Obnoxious one called back.
The other three walked back and joined them.
"Shit, man, i is was having a stringy stucking to my shoesie, and i is was taking it off..."
"... Shit, man, yeah; and look what we found!"
He pointed at a stain on the road.
"Shit, man," the Ignorant One sighed. "It's a shitty stain on the shitty road!"
"Shit, man, yeah! But listen! It Talks!"
Puzzled, they all listened carefully.
"fucken shitface homo asswipe fuck fuck FUCK!" said the stain.
"Shit, man; that's some weird shit!" said the Ugly One.
"Shit, man. Leave it to Mulder and Scully!" the Ignorant One barked. "Let's get the idiot his dolly, and go to the party!"
"fbi fbi fbi!" Said the stain.
"Shit, man, what's that you're playing with?" the Slimy One snapped at the Braindead One.
"Shit, man, is was stringy as was is stucking to shoesie. Looks! Was is a Gummy Bears?"
"Shit, man, that's dirty!" The Slimy One slapped it from his hand, and the five of them continued on their way.
The piece of string; with Gummy Bear still attached; landed in the road near the stain, and lay there... Waiting....
What evil plan has been laid by the piece of string?
What will happen when the threads come together?
What will come of the Meeting of the Minds -- Baby Spice, Britney, and the Braindead One?
Will Anyone survive?
(That is what is known in the trade as: "Stringing it out")