The Family Feud III

Chapter Seven
“Sales with a Smile”

STAR COUNT:
WENDY: 26
JAMIE: 29

Inside the trailer, Bill and Chris said their goodbyes to Madam Chang.

Chang smiled at the men, her eyes sparkling as she straightened up from the hunch she was walking with before.

In perfect English, she said, “Wow, I can't believe they bought that. Mikey was right. There really are ALL kinds out there.”

“When Mikey explained this idea, it sounded kind of funny, but I am starting to feel bad for them.” Bill admitted.

“Why? You told us yourself, that they had tied you up by your dicks and led you around the house?” Madam Chang asked. Her voice not at all accusatory and sharp as it was earlier, but helpful and reasoned.

Yuki and Kiko laughed, no longer working rapidly on shirts, the charade over.

“You two don't laugh, or I really WILL send you outside with them!” She said playfully to the twins.

“Yessah Mama!” Kiko putting on a voice like a samurai, and bowing slightly at the head, before agreeing with Madam Chang “Yeah, what they did to you was fucked up.” also in a completely Americanized English accent.

“You ASKED them if they were willing to do this to make it up to you. They KNOW they did wrong and they need the consequences for betraying your trust to be harsh, or else they will beat themselves up much worse than you ever will, with the guilt. They love you, but they were cunts. Now they pay.”

“How come I feel so bad about it then?” Bill asked honestly.

“Because you are a pussy?” Yuki high-fived Kiko and the two laughed at the good-natured burn on Bill.

“Look, if they hadn’t picked skins, you were going to take them out into the fair in just a t-shirt, and probably shove corn dogs up their asses and make them do all these horrible things.” Madam Chang played Devil's advocate to Bill's concern.

Bill nodded, noting the corn dog thing sounded like a pretty good idea, filing it away for later. He wondered if she was just exaggerating to use as an example, or how that might actually fit up someone's poop hole. Chris just licked his lips, half-listening.

“You let them pick, and you were willing to pay two-hundred dollars to me, to have a little fun at their expense. I've got a business to run, but I really like Mikey's work” She slipped her silk robe down at the shoulder to reveal a dragon tattoo on her shoulder, demurely.

“You worry too much. Give them to me for an hour, I promise they won't die. I will run them ragged, and they will be so happy to get back to you, they will probably thank you for rescuing them from my clutches. Go have fun, have a beer with your son. Everything will be okie dokie.” She reassured him, walking him to the backdoor.

When he was gone, Yuki asked Madam Chang “You think he bought that?”

“Who care, you get back, make shirt, make shirt!” and she grabbed him playfully as if she were going to gobble him up, while he smiled play-fighting back.

Meanwhile....

Jamie and Wendy stalked towards the front of the awning that covered most of the merchandise. Things that one can find in a flea market, that are of questionable morals and purpose. Ceramic mugs shaped like a tit with a hole in the nipple to drink out of. Novelty figurines of a flasher in a trench coat, if you press the button that says “Don't Press,” his coat opens and a plastic dick pops up.

There were T-shirts, panties, hats and other apparel on racks, custom painted. All ranging from simply offensive, “My other ride is your mom.” The blatantly racist confederate flags and an electric chair, “I'll buckle up when Obama does.” The mean spirited, “Dolphins are just gay sharks,” The trashy “I support single moms” featuring a dancing figure around a pole. There were hundreds of “I am so happy I could shit” captioned articles of clothes, but customers could also get custom work done.

Signs and mirrors, all painted in much the same way as the shirts. Mirrors that read, “If my ass is in this mirror, you may already be farted on,” or “Mount over bed for maximum stimulation.” Welcome mats painted to read “Fuck Off” in a happy, flowery font.

There was a small shelf of “Personal Massagers” that were clearly dildos, in everything except looking exactly like a penis. One was even named the “Vibrating Bowling Pin.”

There were fuzzy handcuffs, “Games for Lovers” featuring dice that told the players what part to grope next (apparently).

The fact that this merchandise was sold at the fair was shocking to Wendy. The fact that there was also dollar store merchandise of brushes, saws, rulers, markers, and plastic toys only made it seem even more inappropriate for some reason.

“They didn't sell this at the fair, when I was in high school!” Wendy whispered, feeling like the man who just discovered he'd landed on a world ruled by the apes, and everything has changed.

“This is no different than Spencer's gifts in the mall? Remember when we went in there to get a gag-gift for someone from your Office?”

Wendy suddenly remembered the small chain outlet, it seemed like so long ago. So much had changed since then. It had only been a few months. It was for a friend turning 40, and she wanted to get some black balloons and “Over the hill” party supplies.

Jamie had come with her, and they had both been shocked. Rows upon rows of shirts featuring pictures of Marijuana, “Give me head til I am dead,” not unlike the ones hanging up here. Bongs, adult novelties even more graphic than the selection at Madam Chang’s, black lights and ceramic skulls.

They left without buying anything once they walked down the 'adult aisle'.

“Well we've come full circle, then haven't we?”

“What do you mean, mom?”

“A few months ago we didn't want to set foot into a Spencer’s.” she smirked “Now we work at one!”

“Lazy lady!!” a young man who was barely as tall as the cash register had been trying to get their attention.

“That must be our new boss,” Wendy whispered conspiratorially to her daughter, as they walked over to where he was, trying to appear helpful.

“Why you so lazy, you stand here, not listen to me?”

Wendy had seen how submissive Kiko and Yuki were behaving. This young man's attitude was in direct contrast. She wondered if maybe that meant they were girls? He was belligerent and angry with them, but his tiny frame and squeaky voice only made her want to pat his head. He was like a little chihuahua talking to a Great Dane, she thought to herself.

“What shall we do, Sir?” Wendy asked him, trying to suck in the condescension that she felt towards the tiny guy ranting at her right now. She was trying to figure out if he was a child or a man, or a child-man of some kind. He yelled like a grown up, but looked like a child.

“You stupid? Go stand out in front. Spin sign!! Spin sign.”

“Yes Sir” Jamie and Wendy dutifully marched out to the front of the awning, where they took up positions close enough to one another that they could hear each other talk, but not so close they would hit each other with the signs they carried.

The path in front of them was only about ten feet wide in most places. This was not the main street of the county fair. Traffic was brisk, sometimes busy, sometimes almost no one. There were rarely more than a dozen people at a time travelling up or down the trail. This was an aisle with flea market like wares, food and few games or rides. That was to their advantage, it would be much busier than Mikey’s shop had been, but not as bad as it could have been out in one of the more populous sections of the fair.

Across from them, there was another setup like Madam Chang’s that sold knock-off designer purses and sunglasses but it was dark and closed. Curiously, the merchandise remained out in the open.

To the left side, a bakery trailer, where sweet smells of doughy goodness drifted on the wind. On the right side, a snack cart that sold deep-fried everything.

They spun the signs hand over hand, counter clockwise, getting into a position near one of the lights at the front of the store.

Jamie examined her sign as she spun it. One side was in an oriental script, but the flip side written in English said, “Come sample our wares! Madam Chang's Discount Novelty Emp.” the abbreviation seemed to be the hasty mistake of someone who had started the sign and ran out of space to write.

Wendy's sign read, “Touch anything U like, U break, U buy, Madem Changs”. She was surprised, that the sign had misspelled the word “Madam,” but did not think anything of it, than noting it stood out as odd for sign-makers to have signs that were incorrect. Wendy chalked it up to the fact English was not their native language without a second thought.

“You boring, spin sign better!!” the boy yelled from his cash register. There were only a few customers, who did not seem to take notice of the girls. They simply continued to browse and poke around, before moving to the next shop. This, unfortunately for Wendy and Jamie, who were famished, was a deep-fried donut holes place. The smell of the sugar and cinnamon yeasty donuts was driving them both crazy. Even if they could eat right now, they had not a red cent between them to buy something to eat. At least the smell and hunger, took their mind off the fact that both of them were shirtless, their tits completely bare except for a layer of paint.

The girls were more animated, spinning their sign, flipping it over so that both sides could be seen, trying to point passers-by into the shop. They were giving it what Wendy called her “Old College Try.”

People stared at them, some grinned. A few walked into the store, although there was nothing to indicate that they would not have walked in on their own without the girl's encouragement.

“You know one of the good things about training, is that it is making me appreciate different foods. I would settle for a stepped on day old donut right about now. I would never have considered eating something so unhealthy before this.” Wendy admitted only half-serious. They both smelled the grilled steak and onions mixing with the sweet aroma of fresh donuts on the wind.

“Why Mom, I do declare. Are you admitting that you've learned something from the hardships we've faced?” Jamie switched to her southern-belle, Dixie Sinclair alter-ego voice teasingly.

“I hate to say it out loud, where your father may hear, but yes. I think it has opened my eyes to some things that were right in front of me. I am not saying I've loved this, but it's been educational.” Wendy explained.

“I don't think you are worried about Dad hearing.” Jamie grinned mid-twirl. “I don't think you want to admit it to yourself. It has toughened us up some. The way I look at it, it is like Cheer boot camp. You train hard for two weeks, then you get your focus back, and you are stronger for having stuck it out.”

“We started this last Friday night; technically the first full day was Saturday.” Wendy was silently trying to do the math in her head. “That is six days. I think on average I am only making about four stars a day, and you are about five stars. It may actually put us longer than two weeks at this rate. By my estimate, we've got about 18 more days each at least”

Tossing her sign up in the air, spinning and catching it as it fell, surprisingly she was able to do the math in her head as she caught it. “So? We can get 10 more each tonight. That will put us closer to six a day. We may even be done sooner than 2 weeks. It is a marathon, not a sprint.” Jamie seemed more at ease with this arrangement than her mother.

“I don't want…” Wendy was about to say that she did not want to finish before Jamie did. After everything that had gone on tonight, she realized that might be a bombshell that would set her off into thinking she was being coddled.

“You don't want what?” Jamie asked her mom to finish her sentence as the two casually tried to drum up business for Chang’s.

“I don't want to think about it right now, but I really want one of those donuts!” The two grinned and consoled each other. Wendy decided to not finish her real thought with her daughter about trying to drag her feet so Jamie could finish first in Gold Stars and not have to do this alone.

“You remember the first weekend, out in the yard when you told me your plan to do reverse psychology?” Wendy changed the subject.

Jamie was not quite sure what her mom was talking about. “When I said I would try to be a little bubble headed extrovert, who got off on this situation, and encouraged it, to take all the fun out of it for them?”

“That is the one.” Wendy answered remembering they talked about all the ways that could go wrong, and how much she would have to endure if she tried that gambit.

There were many ways that could backfire; the most obvious backfire was encouraging the men to be as outrageous as possible may actually make them do it!! They thought though, this strategy could if played right, take some of the fun out of it for them. Kind of like a peeping tom who looks in the window of an extrovert. Cancels out their secret joys of voyeurism if the peeper is aware and does not care.

“Mom, do you think I got the tattoo and took the plug up my asshole because I am trying to freak them out?” Jamie asked, understanding why her Mom asked her that.

“The thought had crossed my mind. That maybe you were just being subtle about it, but trying to beat them at their own game?” Wendy said, feeling that theory sounded a little weak now that she heard it out loud.

“Do you think I would try a strategy like that, without telling my partner in crime?” Jamie's wholesome, white smile gleamed in the flash of the fair lights.

Wendy conceded her point, while feeling a little guilty herself that she had done some things without telling Jamie. That she made deals to protect her, for her own good. She would keep those secrets, for now.

“I just plan to get through this. I may as well be a good sport, and try to make the most of the hardship, and learn from it. No point in complaining, it won't change anything.” This was Jamie concisely. Life giving her lemons, and her pissing lemonade.

“Good sport is one thing. You've got an anal plug up your ass, almost completely naked and a tattoo that you've got to live with for the rest of your life.” Wendy said sounding very sincerely concerned.

“Tell me, Mom” Jamie juggled “Which of those three things don't you have?”

Wendy knew it was not the anal plug she wanted to discuss. She let it drop. It was time to keep things light. Have a little fun with their predicament. It would not help to bring up her concerns again about the tattoo. She wondered also if maybe there was a little projection on to her daughter of her own fears she herself showed bad judgment.

The two continued to chitchat, getting a little bolder about talking to people “Come try on our shirts, buy them right off our backs!”

“Don't see something you like? They will paint it on you! Or your favorite article of clothing!” they promised the potential shoppers. It was interesting to wonder about the lives of each person as they walked by briskly, or slowly. Where were they going? Would they all end up in the same place eventually?

Isn’t that how life works? The midway is the metaphor. No matter how fast, or how slow you walk, everyone gets to where they are headed. That is if they don’t take a side-ways turn on to a new path. Wendy smiled to herself picturing the family taking that walk to Mikey's gazebo as allegory to taking that side path in life.

Dozens of people, mostly groups of kids or families, passed by laughing and talking. The fair was fairly well lit up, the lights blinking and flashing in all directions, which meant as people hustled to the rides, food or games that interested them, they simply didn't have anything that directed them to stop and look at Wendy and Jamie.

Jamie was doing a routine that she learned in cheer camp, extolling the virtues of the store “Finest shop at the fair!” and “Come on in and see what we got!”

Her mother followed suit. Reminded of the mother/daughter cheer that they had done earlier in the day when it was not so dark out. They had the crowd going, for at least a minute.

“Should I be disappointed, no one has freaked out?” Wendy said to her daughter while the two danced around in front of the store.

“I think it's just that no one would expect to see someone fully naked in this situation. I think they just assume we have on bathing suits under the paint. We look festive enough, we are supposed to be out here. We'll just stand not so close to the brightest lights, and get through it. It's cool, you got my back, and I got yours” Jamie smiled confidently and asked, “Why do you ask? Do you wish they'd freak out?”

“Oh hell no, I got so worried when they were painting us, I just expected there to be air raid sirens, and people running, cats and dogs living together, mass hysteria” She laughed quoting a line from an old 1980s movie, and being reminded that Bill had only twenty minutes earlier done the same thing. It only reinforced that they WERE meant to be together to her.

“You seem to be taking the butt plug well.” Sounding strange coming from a Soccer Mom type like Wendy.

“You know, I never really thought anyone, especially my mother would ever say that to me.” Jamie giggled avoiding the topic.

“Do you mind if my daughter takes a picture with you?” came a voice from the darkness. Jamie and Wendy squinted and saw a family of four, pushing a stroller.

“I don't see why not” Wendy tried in vain to do a SpongeBob imitation, inviting them to come closer.

“No, Sandy Cheeks!” the little kid pointed at Jamie.

Jamie stuck out her tongue at her Mom playfully. Her mocking gesture indicating, “Hah, I got picked and you didn't!” but it was all in jest. The plastic buckteeth and bushy tail only served to make her seem cuter when she did so.

Jamie knelt with the girl, bending down to keep her chest parallel with the ground, in the hopes from this angle, her face and shoulders were all that would be seen.

“Wow, that was cool.” Jamie said flattered that it had not been a humiliating experience. The little girl had picked that she take a picture with her over the title character of the show.

“So you think you can get more pictures than me?” Wendy smiled impishly “Care to make a little wager?”

Jamie could be just as competitive as her mom could. Their bets were usually very low stakes; it was more the joy of competing that made them try to outshine each other. Something in their nature compelled them to compete when they were around someone else who was that way also. The competition would keep their minds off their situation; make the time go by faster. This was not the first time they had made a side bet. They had done them even before they ever started training, although the games and stakes were far different then.

“Does that last picture count?” Jamie asked.

“Sure does, the first one to ten pictures with someone from the fair wins!” Wendy found it easier to seem decisive when the men were not around.

“What If they want both of us in the picture?”

“Then we both are in it graciously, just like you were in that picture with the girl. It counts as one for both of us.”

The two danced and jiggled for passers-by as they discussed the nature of the bet, with one last decision to make about the bet. What were the stakes?

“Whoever loses has to wear her costume home.” Wendy suggested.

“What if Dad wants us to change?” Jamie asked covering her bases.

Wendy nodded acknowledging her point. Neither of them really wanted to humiliate the other (Although they could at times get a little carried away once they were actually in a contest and the desire to be the best/win got the best of them). They had also been stripped of just about any ownership of anything they could offer each other, so that made trading anything fairly pointless.

“You could wear my tail, and I take your shawl.” Jamie smiled.

“Okay, after it’s been up your poop chute? Just pop it right in my peanut butter? What would SpongeBoob do with Sandy Cheeks tail, anyway?” Wendy giggled.

Jamie smiled too. With the lights playing off her face, she bore such a resemblance to pop star “Taylor Swift” her mom knew she hated to be reminded of that, so she didn’t say it.

Jamie joked aloud “You got your chocolate in my peanut butter!”

Wendy looked at her confused, continuing to shimmy around to mostly apathetic passersby.

“That is what Chris would have said if he were here. About sticking the butt plug from my ass, into your ass. My chocolate, in your peanut butter.” Jamie grinned.

That is exactly what her brother probably would have said; Wendy wondered who in the family passed on such weird DNA to them. She changed the subject “How about whoever wins, gets a star from the other girl.” If it worked, she could use it as a way to funnel stars to Jamie to get her out of this sooner, without spoiling the illusion she had earned them.

“You think Dad will let us do that?” Jamie asked.

“Probably. If not, we will say that is a condition that makes the game a tie. It’s all in fun, what is one star between home girls?” Wendy tried to dance as if she was being funky to a distant “We are Family…I got all my sisters and me!!” disco music playing for one of the rides.

“Mom, sorry to break it to you but you dance like a white girl!”

“So do you!” Wendy was so busy joking with her counterpart she did not notice the little man standing at her feet. He was holding what may be a real scimitar, his hands on his hips.

“You think this happy hour, get going at it. You talk more to each other, than to customer!” He raised his hands in frustration. “You going to need kick to ass to motivate. SALES. MONEY, HONEY!!” slapping his back pocket where he kept his wallet.

Wendy could not be sure if he was an adorable faced kid, or one of those midgets with whatever Gary Coleman had. He had a foul temper and even fouler mouth, with a chip on his shoulder. Too much for someone who looked so young to have.

“I am not sure if I can bend low enough for you to kick me in my ass, Sir. Would you settle for shins?” Wendy said sweetly, her voice dripping with honey and submission. no trace of sarcasm. Despite the words being just that.

“I can put my first in your butt!!!” he actually punched her in the ass cheek, and realizing it was such a hard muscle he walked away back to his cash register as if he were done and not retreating. “You got bone only in the ass. Need more blubber, where is the blubber, when you need it.”

Jamie agreed to the bet, but asked her mom why she was so mean to him.

“I don’t know if he is a midget or a little boy, something about him just rubs me wrong.” She admitted.

“We’ve got to be nice to everyone, generous, honest, submissive, show respect.” Jamie said to her mother.

Before Wendy could reply sarcastically, “Preach on Sister Jamie!” noting that her ‘perfect’ daughter still had bad days too. A family walked up, “You do pictures?”

“Yes we would love to take pictures, Hi. Who are you? I am Sandy Cheeks!” Jamie smiled at the young boy enthusiastically. She spoke in a southern drawl not unlike her Dixie Sinclair character, except without as much pretension, so she sounded like a good old country girl from down the road.

“I am Dustin!” a precious 11 year old announced, “This is my sister Ashley who is a doo-doo head, and my Dad and Mom. It is our pleasure to meet you, Sandy.”

“And I am SpongeBoob!” Wendy tacked on, in a comical voice. It was obvious to the parents that the joke was intended for them, and meant to play down the fact that she was a female (who happened to have big knockers) painted to look like a male character. Dustin did not hesitate to offer a similar introduction to SpongeBob, failing to catch the play on words.

The Father wanted in the picture with his son; he put his arm around Wendy and whispered, “They only get the jokes they are supposed to get!”

Wendy understood his meaning. She had noticed parents taking their kids into Madam Chang’s shop with them. If they are too young to understand some of the adult humor, they just process it as whatever they can relate too.

Chris had sung “I was gonna clean my room, but then I got hives. Then I got hives.” until he was about thirteen and realized the rap song he was singing along too was “Then I got high, then I got high.” At that point, he was ready to understand what marijuana was.

This made the idea that she was theoretically naked in this family’s picture, far more palatable. The buttons over her boobies, the wrap, it was good camouflage. It added a certain amount of “No really, WE are supposed to be out here like this.” legitimacy to their taking pictures with strangers that may end up cherished family memories.

As the family was about to walk away, the little boy who adored Jamie, turned to her and said, “May I have a kiss from Mrs. Sandy Cheeks?” in the most charming way.

“Why yes, you may, Dustin, but don‘t make SpongeBob jealous!”

She bent over at the waist to kiss him on the forehead and he popped up playfully on his tiptoes, planting a kiss directly on her lips. “Honk!” he squeezed one of her boobs and ran off playfully. He was red-faced, grinning and precocious. Racing ahead of his family, because he knew he was in trouble for what he had just done, but he didn't really care. As of this moment, he was on top of the world.

“I am so sorry, about that. He does that to our babysitter too. I was about to warn you before he tricked you with his cute little rascal act.” The mother said, slinging her camera back into the purse. Her attitude suggesting she didn’t see the big deal ‘boys will be boys’ with a shrug.

“That’s okay, boy’s rule!” Jamie smirked as the family walked away.

“Okay, so what was that?” Wendy said cynically as the two returned to spinning and twirling signs.

“What? I was respectful, and sweet, outgoing! “

“What happened to honest and submissive?” Wendy asked pointing out she had said Sandy Cheeks, not Sandy Butt Cheeks, and she had not called her by her character’s name either. She had tried to seem innocent. The point she wanted to make which seemed to be getting lost was that there were times they had to cool it. This felt like a good time to do that, since Bill and Chris were not supervising.

I didn’t cuss that little fart for kissing me on the mouth.” Jamie said trying to spit out whatever the taste was. “Ick, sour apple, and I think popcorn.”

“He slipped you the tongue?” Wendy said surprised.

“He sure did, that little horn dog. Here I thought he was all innocent and cute, and he was just trying to get a shot at my tits and to try to French me!” she said surprised.

“Jamie, honey. I hate to break it to YOU.” Reminding her daughter of when she had used that same phrase to mock her funky dancing. “He was about 11 years old. The baby voice had to be an act. Just so you know, the dad hugged me, and grabbed my butt while his wife took the picture.” She paused to laugh about the universal nature of men, “Guys are going to be trying to act all innocent and cute, just to get a shot at your tits and French you for the rest of your life, until you are married.” Wendy used her exact words to help bring home the point.

“Or for some of us, even after we are married.”

“That is a low blow,” Wendy said seriously. “I serve other men; because that is the arrangement I have with your Dad.”

“So what would you have had me do then?” Jamie was still thinking about the criticism that she had not felt comfortable saying Sandy Butt Cheeks. “Open my mouth to the little monster, encourage him?”

“No. Chris and your Dad might. I wouldn’t.” Wendy smirked. “I was just trying to get you to see that maybe there are times we shouldn’t” Wendy was interrupted by a large mountain of a man.

“Excuse me, do you know where the bathroom is supposed to be, Ma‘am?” with a thick Arkansas accent, John Deere Hat, Flannel shirt and dusty old blue jeans. He stood about six and a half feet tall, and probably weighed about 350lbs.

“Why I sure don’t, Pardner. You can ask Sandy Buttcheeks here.” Wendy did her hopelessly unauthentic impression of SpongeBob thumbing in the direction of her daughter.

“Why they call you Sandy Buttcheeks?” the large man asked curiously. He seemed like a trucker, or a lumberjack. He was standing with another guy of an equally impressive stature.

“Cuz sometimes I likes ta' cool my cheeks in the sand at the beach!” making a 'tee-hee' sound as she did. Jamie improvised, putting her hand behind her back to lift her tail and fell on her butt on the dirty clay walkway. As she wiggled it around in the dirt, “Oh that IS refreshing. You should try it sometime” She hammed it up.

The two rednecks looked like they had just seen the stupidest shit they had ever seen in their life. That was until they both started laughing hysterically.

“God damned, and what the fuck are you supposed to be?” he asked Wendy. His tone was not impolite. This seemed like how he would talk all the time. Seemed normal coming from him.

“I am SpongeBoobs; let me get a look at you.” She put her hands around both of her bare tits, and moved them around like eye stalks playfully as she was coming towards him, speaking in her cartoon voice “My, you are a big one. You must have your own zip code!”

He laughed, and started to walk away with his friend to find himself a bathroom. Thoroughly amused with whatever it was that he just saw.

“Wait, would you like a picture with SpongeBoob?”

He held up his hand to indicate No, as he walked away.

“I’ll be your best friend!” Wendy was still doing the voice, trying to get one up on her daughter.

His hand was still waving goodbye as he walked away.

“C’mon it’s free. Take your picture with me. I saw you got a digital camera.” Wendy called out in desperation.

The giant was almost at the donut shop next to them. No question he would be putting away about 50 of those donuts.

“Give me 1 donut hole, and I’ll let you hold my eyes when you take a picture with me?” She said in desperation, jokingly. She much preferred him to some family with kids.

He stopped. Thought about it and kept walking to the donut stop.

“Hah, I see your game SpongeBoob!” Jamie said in her sweet sassy country accent. “You want to bribe them. You wanna take those stars away from Sandy Buttcheeks!” She wiggled her ass, while standing in place as she dusted the actual dirt from sitting on the ground..

“I thought you were going to lose your tail.” Wendy said in her regular voice, seeing as no one was paying attention to them, not taking her daughter seriously.

Jamie ignored her Mom’s comment and with the next passing family she called out playfully in her imitation country accent “Howdy, Any Fellers out there want to kiss me, and make my boyfriend, SpongeBoob jellus?” purposely slurring Jealous so she could justify also saying “SpongeBoob” as a play on words.

“Take a picture with me, and you get one kiss free.” The family stopped. A 16-year-old boy (she thankfully didn’t know from school) ran up after conferring with his dad. Gave her a quick kiss on the lips and ran away.

“Hahah, no picture. Doesn’t count!” Wendy laughed at her daughter. The exchange would not go down as a point for Jamie towards their bet to get ten pictures first.

The grandson appeared underfoot again, this time wielding a small broom, swinging it around at the girls who dodged him. “This not you make-out time. This you customer service time. You want kiss them, only if they buy, buy buy!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Wendy bent down at the knees, called him over to her, kissed him on the forehead. This surprised the impatient man-boy, but also served to get his attention.

“Would you ask Kiko and Yuki to make a new sign for us” She explained it to him and he nodded cheerfully in agreement.