West Side Sassies

"Ahem" interupted Cashmere "My dear - Shandalier, I'm fraught with peril over your situation, truly I am, but news flash dahhhling, its not all about you this time - cut to me. I look at you as my arch enemy slash best friend. I say arch enemy for I have never forgiven you for usurping me at the Miss Boiling Springs Pageant. Call me old fashioned - but revenge is a dish best served cold. Or in the words of your delightfully hoochie sister - gurlfren you'all is going downnnnn."

Shandy couldn't help but burst into peals of derisive laughter. "Oh, you canNOT be serious," she scoffed at her statuesque nemesis. "'Revenge is a dish best served cold'...? Admit it, you've been rehearsing that speech clear across the Pacific. Oh Cashmere, you're still as full of crap as you were back in Boiling Springs."

Cashmere flicked her Sunset Over Miami Beach blonde tresses. "I am telling you Delwood," she seethed, "our life-long fued? It ends here and it ends NOW."

"Oh puh-lease, you didn't scare me at Miss Hathaway's School of Deportment and Grooming For Lovely Young Southern Belles, and you don't scare me now. Just what do you intend to do, huh?" Shandy snapped her fingers at Cashmere. "Blowdry me to death?"

A sour smile played on Cashmere Dupree's lips. If Shandy wasn't mistaken, Cashmere had plastered them with Dior Addict High Shine Lipstick Sheer Rose 147. Damn! That girl sure knew her lippies. It was a gorgeous, shimmering shade but, as per usual, Cashmere had over-applied. "Miss Prissy," Cashmere announced, "it's time to do your thing."

Iva screamed, Carmene screamed louder, and in a way that told Shandy that she was back to holding her tits again. Honestly, those two were such a pair of drama queens. Suddenly a steely glare of silver flashed in the corner of Shandy's eye. She turned her head to see Prissy brandishing a knife. It was one of those switchblades that Shandy herself had used 3 years ago in the smash-hit, sold-out run of "West Side Sassies" that had played at Sassy Palms for a record-breaking 4 months. Only this time something told Shandy that this weren't no fake stage knife that Prissy was waving at her.

"I's gonna git yer ass," Prissy muttered, almost trance-like. "I's gonna slice it to ribbons and then I's gonna take those ribbons and I's gonna put them in my hair. All perdy-perdy like."

"Shandy," Iva croaked, "I think she means business."

"You got that right, you skinny skank of a hoochie ho's cooch. I's from the streets. Knifin' is mah bizness. And when I'm done wid dis one," Prissy swiped the air with her switchblade in Shandy's direction, "I's gonna come after you two honky-ass bitches." Iva and Carmene screamed again, this time in surprisingly harmonious union.

"You get away from my girls!" Shandy screamed. Like a sleek leopard (well, a sleek drag queen in a leopard print cat-suit at any rate) Shandy launched herself into the air between Prissy and Cashmere. She rolled onto the deliciously soft salmon swirl carpeting just next to the crystal topped coffee table. In a blur she grabbed the stun-wah Japanese porcelain vase that sat on the table. It was a pity to have to destroy it but this was a fight to the death! With laser like precision she hurled it at Prissy's head.

But Miss Prissy Louella Cottonwood was quicker on her feet than Shandy could ever have anticipated. She catapulted herself towards Shandy like a winged rhinoceros landing beside the divine divan that matched the darling Danish davenport behind Shandy. Without even so much as stopping to draw breath, let alone for a dozen donuts, Prissy threw the knife straight at Shandy's forehead. At the last, nail-biting moment, Shandy turned her head to the right. She heard a WHOOSH! followed by a sickening thud. She went to leap to her feet but something was stopping her.

"Shandy!" Iva called out. "Her knife! It's pinned you to that darling Danish davenport! She's got you by your hairdo!"

"Nobody touches this hairdo without my say so!" Shandy declared. She reached up and grabbed the handle of Prissy's switchblade and yanked it out with the strength of an Amazon woman. She sprung to her feet and pointed the knife towards Prissy. "So, the kid-leather autumn-hue party-pump Manolo's are on the other foot now, aren't they?" she taunted her sister.

Shandy made a lunge in Prissy's direction but Prissy's frown turned into a smirk as she reached up into the sleeve of her blouse and pulled out another knife. "Yo is stoopider than yo look ifn yo think that I's only got me one knife. I done told you: I's street wise in ways yo ain't even dreamed about." The two sisters circled each other like a pair of wary lionesses. Around and around they crept, closer and closer they edged until they were a little more than a knife's slash from each other's décolletage.

"Oh for god's sake will one of you make a move?" Cashmere demanded. "This is starting to drag on for way too long."

That's when Shandy made her fatal error. She glanced across at Cashmere to see that she had a bottle of French champers in her hand. That's when Prissy made her move. In a blindingly black blur, Prissy shot towards Shandy. Shandy felt a flabby arm encase her neck and pulled her down to the shagpile. The arm around her throat squeezed harder and harder, cutting off her all oxygen and - worst of all - totally ruining what was left of the $150 bouffant she'd paid for less than two days before. Shandy looked up to see Prissy raise her knife high into the air, ready to slam it down between her fun pillows. She closed her eyes and prepared herself for the final end. An image of Dirk swam before her. He was naked and writhing on her bed, his enormous manliness bulging with anticipation. He was groaning with ecstasy and calling out her name. What a bummer they hadn't made time for one last root. Spewin' buckets, eh?

But instead of the sound of Prissy grunting as she plunged her knife in, Shandy heard the pop of a cork. Say wha...? She opened her eyes to see Cashmere pouring out the bubbly into five champagne flutes. "Oh Shandy," Cashmere tsk-tsked, "you really don't think your long lost sister would kill you the very hour she finally meets you?"

Prissy let out a throaty laugh and helped Shandy to her feet. "No way, sister-gurl. We just playing wid choo!" Iva and Carmene each let out twittering gurgles of nervous laughter. "So," Iva said, "Miss Prissy here won't be slaughtering us like spring lambs at the Melbourne Show?"

Cashmere handed them the flutes. "I'm sure I have no idea what a Melbourne Show is, but no, there shall be no slaughtering here today. Chin-chin!"

After what she'd been through, Shandy could do with a glass or four of bubbly. She drained her flute of champers in one thirsty gulp. "This is the good stuff!" she declared to her suddenly former arch enemy. "Any more...?"

But as she thrust her glass towards Cashmere, suddenly everything blurred. She felt light-headed and her heart began to beat even harder than when Dirk was behind her, pounding her doggy style with the relentlessness of an insatiable bull.

And then she blanked out.

* * *

It was impossible to know how long she'd been laying on the butter-soft shag pile. She lifted her throbbing head to see Iva and Carmene sprawled out like a couple of buffaloes laying in the sun. She called their names, but they didn't respond. She pulled herself up to the divine divan and tried to catch her breath. What happened? Where was Cashmere and Prissy? Oh, her head! How it pummeled her so!

She called out Iva and Carmene's names again; this time they stirred. Groaning, they came slowly to life. "Girls!" Shandy called out to them and she struggled to get upright. "I think we've been drugged."

Shandy's announcement shocked them both into wakefulness. Carmene let off a snarl. "I knew it was too good to be true when that Prissy didn't plunge her knife into your guts."

"Oh yeah," Shandy responded, "And thanks to the both of youse for coming to my rescue. Your assistance was invaluable."

"But...but...but..." the pair of them stuttered but Shandy dismissed them with another of her haughty snaps. "Let's get out of here."

"Wait!" Iva screeched. "I want to see if there are any chockies on the pillow. I love those things."

Shandy watched as Iva scooted into Cashmere's bedroom. A few moments went by, then a few moments more, but Iva didn't appear. "Don't make me come in there after you," Shandy growled.

"You'd better get in here!" Iva called from the bedroom. "Both of you."

Impatiently, Shandy and Carmene crossed the living-room and entered Cashmere's vast boudoir. "HOLY SHIT!" Carmene exclaimed. Holy shit indeed for Cashmere's bedroom was awash with huge sheets of paper. "What are these?" Carmene asked.

"They're architectural plans," Iva replied, impressing Shandy that she'd have even the slightest clue.

"Of what?"

Shandy pulled the top sheet off the pile on the bed and studied it for a moment. Then she let out a horrified "OH MY JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!"

"What is it? What is it???"

Shandy pulled another sheet, then another. "We've got to go!" she ordered her two glamazon assistants. She raced out of the bedroom beckoning the others to follow. "We've got to get to work!"

"Now?" Carmene whined. "Is there a rehearsal or something...?"

Shandy unfurled one of the architectural plans so that Iva and Carmene could see. "These are plans for the Sassy Palms! And these lines here..." She traced a series of parallel lines with her 2-inch nails slathered in Revlon Sweet Nothings Peachy Keen #7 lacquer by her new nail girl Quan Yee who really does do such an excellent job. "This is the wiring."

"Oh?" Carmene responded brightly. "We're getting new wiring? Well, it's about bloody time. Running around back stage with our Rampant Rio Carnivale headdresses last year, I just about--"

"No you witless ninny!" Shandy snapped. "Once the wiring is cut, the fire alarm is no longer connected. Cashmere and Prissy lured us here and drugged us to get us out of the way. They're going to torch the Sassy Palms and we must stop them!!!!"

Showdown

The elevator glided to a halt, the doors opening with a swish. Nervously the girls entered the hallway looking about before doing so.

"Shand, are you sure this is a good idea?" asked Iva nervously.

"Of course darl, I'm not afraid - Cashmere's a flibbidy jibit, ain't no way she's going to mess with me."

"And what about Prissy, you know nothing about her" said Carmene looking Shandy in the eye.

"Oh WOT EVAH, you two, if you don't want to be here, go. I can deal with this, your both a pair of lily-livered lumps."

Iva grabbed for Shandy's hand "No way hon, we are in this together."

"Well come along then."

Edging along the corridor they noted the numbers until they arrived at room 1414.

"Why has this room got double doors and the others haven't?" whispered Carmene.

"Cause these bitches are in a suite" said Shandy "Obviously someone's got plenty of spondoola to splash about".

Shandy drew a breath and slipped the key into the opening, illuminating the green light that announced they were seconds from gaining entry. Turning the handle gently there was a click. Iva gasped - they were all nervous now.

Pushing the door gently ajar, they peered in through the narrow opening. No noise, no movement. So far so good.

Shandy pushed the door open a little further - still nothing.

"They must be out," whispered Shandy "Lets go in."

Pushing the door open they walked into a stylish lounge room which had doorways leading off at either side.

"Well, they are certainly traveling in style," muttered Shandy "Lets not waste time! We need to quickly case the joint to see if we can find anything of relevance."

Carmene gave her a blank stare. "Ahem - CASE THE JOINT...? You've been hanging with the fuzz too much darling, you're talking like an ep of CSI Miami."

"OHHHHHHH I love that show!" gasped Iva excitedly "Horatio is such a hottie, I could so do the nastee with him."

"Ewwwww" replied Carmene, casting a disbelieving eye in her direction "You lie; he has red hair."

"So what? I think guys with red hair are spunks - ain't nothing nicer than munching on a thatch of red pubes."

"You're a sick puppy Iva."

"Shhhhhhh!" snapped Shandy "We do not have time to debate Iva's Follicle fetish, we have work to do."

They moved towards one of the doorways. Just as they were about to open it...

"Well, well, I do declare - I would know thayt voice anywhayer" the voice spoke out, clear, distinct and with an obvious southern drawl.

The door was flung open and the girls all screamed.

Standing before them was a tall, statuesque woman with peircing blue eyes, and thick, long, lustrous blonde hair teased slightly at the front to create height, it then cascaded luxuriously down her back. She wore stunning tailored white trousers and a turquoise silk blouse with swarovski crystal buttons. Shandy recognised immediately as the latest Alessandro Dell'Acqua, it was straight off the Milano catwalk - she was gagging for that blouse she thought.

"CASHMERE, ummm..." mumbled Shandy

"Wayell if it isn't my dear friend Delwood Hickory Cottonwood, Ive been expecting youuu"

"The name is Shandlier Wilson - you know that Cashmere - do you have a problem with that"

"Au contraire - I'm not enjoying your tone of voice. I of all people understand your situation only too well. But before your mind starts racing off thinking that I am not what I portray myself to be - you are wrong, I am a lady in every sense of the word, indeed yes. My sister on the other hand is one of your - how do I say this delicately - folk".

"Meaning" snapped Shandy

"Whay my dear - my sister is none other than someone you are well acquainted with - I refer to Miss Claire Voyant"

"What the fuck?" hissed Carmene "As if."

"Whomever you are, your foul language, not to mention your choice of ensemble is causing me severe abdominal distress. Its more than a person of my artistic sensitivity can bare. Cease and desist"

Before Shandy could muster a response, Cashmere continued.

"Actually - I hayve been expecting youu. As they say - Wait thayre's more"

Walking elegantly across the room. Shandy noted Cashmere's divine Jimmy Choo high HIGH heeled silver Lola sandals. Bitch she muttered under her breath.

Cashmere turned perfectly to face them "What lies behind door-ah number twooo"

With the flick of the handle, she pushed the door open. Standing there before them was a very large, very black woman. The tension increased.

Cashmere waived her perfectly manicured hand "May I introduce you to your long lost sister - Prissy"

"Sooooooo finally I git to meet my skanky brudda, you the one, you the one that never came to find me"

Shandy finally regained her composure "Excuse me - I have no idea what your referring to"

"Don'tchoo be given me none of that - look at you, you all think yo high and mighty now that you a woman an all, but I been told by Miss Cashmere here that you'all knew you had a brother and that you'all knew I was bought up wrong by foster parents, ize been done wrong, Ize been bought up bad, ize been in trouble and you dun nothin to find me, nothin to help yo blood. But you, you been bought up all fancy like - look at you in your fine threads drippin in ice. You'all left me for dead ho. Then I hear that yo a nastee peice of shit, yo been messin with my peeps vibe and they been good to me theyze have and we gonna see to it that you goin down bitch, cause Im not fly witch you, yo hear me?"

"But let me explain, I did not know anything, I only found out tonight that I had a brother"

"You lieeeee"

"No - you have to give me a chance to talk"

"Ahem" interupted Cashmere "My dear - Shandalier, I'm fraught with peril over your situation, truly I am, but news flash dahhhling, its not all about you this time - cut to me. I look at you as my arch enemy slash best friend. I say arch enemy for I have never forgiven you for usurping me at the Miss Boiling Springs Pageant. Call me old fashioned - but revenge is a dish best served cold. Or in the words of your delightfully hoochie sister - gurlfren you'all is going downnnnn."

Going up?

"My greatest arch enemy and a twin sister I never knew I had are sharing a suite at the Grand Hyatt at this very moment. I want to know why and I want to know NOW!!!" Shandy screamed.

She pushed Dirk's hand away from her freshly Brazilianed wet patch and directed him back to the driver's seat giving him a gentle pat on the almost-threatening stiff bulge protruding from the front of his rather aptly named "Wanton" Ted Baker fine wool pinstripe suit.

"Honey, you know there's nothing I'd love more than to sprinkle some spice on those nuts right now but I've got a mystery missy sissy to unearth and an old crazy-ass bitch who needs to know that the score is getting settled. And I need to do it right now."

Dirk wasted no time starting the engine and pulling out into the traffic.

Iva raised her head from the rear again, a few buttons of her silk bouse had come undone and the tiniest hint of her Hanky Panky Primrose Lace camisole peeped out from the top of her solid melons.

"So what's the plan?" she asked, using her pinky finger to remove the smudges of Guerlain's Kiss Kiss Golden Diamonds Skankwhore Scarlet Woman Lipstick from the edges of her full lips.

Shandy took a moment to glance downwards.

"Nice cami Girlfriend and later when there's time you must hook me up with that surgeon who repumped your baps last year, but right now you're right, we need a plan of attack."

The four of them huddled closer together. Shandy's cheeks were flushed with excitement, Iva's evil mind was ticking over, Saul flexed his muscles and Carmene continued to dab at the persistent Raz stain, while wondering if it she'd been lucky enough to get a 'free' with her ice treat.

By the time Dirk's van slid smoothly into the executive car park at The Grand Hyatt the trio and their muscly manservant were ready. Dirk who'd spent the last 15 minutes negotiating hook turns and secretly wondering if he had time to nail Shandy a quick hard one before they entered the hotel's shimmering interior, had heard nothing and asked to be let in on the plan.

Shandy placed her recently manicured talon on his soft, tempting lips, "This one is on a strictly need-to-know basis and right now all you need to know is that when this is all over I am going to pull out that not-so-secret weapon you're packing down there and suck it dry Handsome."

Dirk, feeling momentarily weak at the knees, leant back on the van for support and watched as the three former men, now hot women and their male assistant boasting prison-ripped muscles from every angle, strutted towards the hotel lobby. Saul and Iva remained outside while Shandy and Carmene sashayed in.

"Oooh nice foyez," Carmene squealed as she dragged her oversized man hands across the tasteful flocked wallpapered walls.

Shandy turned on her heel and glared at her while announcing loudly, "I think you'll find it's pronounced foy-ER."

Shandy winked at Carmene who pretended to look hurt. She did in fact strike a very sorry pose, her Raz splattered suit and torn stockings only added to her dismal appearance.

Shandy sauntered up to the counter, swaying her firm arse, bold as brass.

The receptionist, a rather dim but pretty slip of a thing who'd spent years racking up a diabolical bill on Mummy's credit card and ignoring the importance of her education had the air of someone who felt she was entitled to more but had only just realised that she got what she deserved, greeted them with a fake smile and even faker hair extensions.

"Good afternoon and welcome to the Grand Hyatt. My name is Bonnie, how can I assist you today?"

Shandy pulling herself up to her full height, turned on a full force killer smile and amped up the charm to eleven.

"Honey you sure as hell can assist us with quite a bit today. You see my assistant here, " Shandy gestured uncharitably to a pathetic looking Carmene, "seems to have up and lost my room key. And of course with all my work and socialising I cannot be expected to think of these things so we're just wondering if you'd kindly give us a new one right now."

"Absolutely we can, what name is that booked under?" Bonnie asked, suitably charmed by Shandy's brazen manner.

"Cottonwood, Miss Prissy, " Shandy said.

Bonnie tapped into the hotel computer.

"Here we are. You're in Room 1414. We just need some identification," Bonnie said.

But Shandy was prepared, "Surely you do," she pulled her Versace Medusa Head golden wallet from her snazzy pocketbook and produced her driver's licence.

"Obviously Prissy Cottonwood is my stage name, my real name is Miss Shandelier Wilson, as you probably know."

Not wanting to appear any dimmer than she was Bonnie looked at the licence and nodded.

"Of course Miss Wil... I mean Miss Cottonwood," she giggled nervously. "Here's your room key and be sure to let me know if you need anything else."

Shandy and Carmene smiled and walked towards the lift. Shandy turned back, her glossy hair bouncing off her shoulders.

"Actually Honey there is something more you can do for us. Can you get room service to send us up two plates of fried chicken with fries and a dozen bottles of Dom, thanks. And by the way nice tan...is it Mystic?"

Bonnie nodded dumbly as she scrambled to write down the order.

Carmene and Shandy slid into the lift, the room key in Shandy's hand and as the doors slid closed they high-fived each other. Perhaps this crazyplan might just work after all.

Flaming Batons

Dirk laid a manly hand on Shandy's silken thigh. "Are you okay?" he asked in a low voice.

"Well," Shandy responded, "I'd be better if your hand was about 8 inches up from where it is right now..."

"He means are you okay emotionally, you one-track-minded old whorebag," Carmene griped.

"Go suck the Razz stain out of ya Target jumpsuit, will ya?" Shandy threw towards the back of Dirk's shaggin' wagon.

"Ladies," Dirk said, using a term that barely applied to anyone inside his vehicle, "there are questions here that need answering."

"You're right, my darling," Shandy said as she furtively guided Dirk's warm hand northwards. "Go on. Don't stop."

"So, these Cottonwood people. When was the last time you saw them?"

Shandy tapped a perfectly mani'd index finger to her chin and thought for a bit. "Hmmm, okay, that would be...oh yeah...the finals of the Miss Boiling Springs 1987 Beauty Pageant."

"Did ya win?" Iva asked.

"Are you kidding?" Shandy replied, "I was a guaranteed shoo-in."

"How come?" the Razz-splattered Carmene wanted to know. "Were you the only contestant?"

But Shandy chose to ignore the sarcasm dripping from Carmene's thin lips like the Dirk Juice she was hoping would be dripping from hers in the not-too-distant future. Instead she encouraged Dirk's hand another inch along. "There were six of us but I may as well have been the only one there. Let me tell you, I was on fire that night. I had it all going on. My hair was glossy, freshly tinted with Lancome Malibu Blonde highlights. And huge! Man, it was bigger than that plastic pig outside the Boiling Springs Piggly Wiggly Supermarket. And let me tell you, that porker was HUGE! And I had slimmed down to my lowest weight but miraculously my tits were as perky as ever in my stun-wah Diane Von Furstenberg aqua bamboo bandeau 'Flamingo' swimsuit. And I twirled my flaming baton like nobody's business. Twenty feet in the air, thirty feet, forty feet - the audience gasped at my every move; I had them in the palm of my hands. I was unstoppable!"

"Not that this story isn't positively riveting," Iva cut through Shandy's vivid evocation of her triumph de beauté , "but could we get to the part where you see the Cottonwoods for the last time...? Some of us have...uh...places to go."

Shandy looked around to see Iva nestled deep into the cleft between Saul's impressive pecs. "Fair enough," Shandy winked to Iva. "Anyways us six finalists were lined up along the stage and the pageant's MC - Bernard Wedgie, he owned Boiling Spring's Piggly Wiggly and was its major sponsor so he got to do whatever he wanted - he walked onto the stage with the envelope which contained the winner's name.

"He was just about to proclaim me as the winner when suddenly there was this god almighty scuh-ream from the audience. I looked out across the Boiling Springs Rotary Pavillion carpark - that's where we held the Miss Boiling Springs pageant every year on account of the flaming batons - and I spotted my mother standing in the 5th row, pointing at me and scuh-reaming "That's Delwood! That's my son, Delwood!" Next to her was my father trying to shoosh her down. But she wouldn't stop. "Delwood! Delwood! What have you done to yourself?!"

"They didn't know you'd had had the op?" Iva asked, her fingers raking the inside of Saul's shirt.

"I was going to tell them, right after my triumphant crowning as Miss Boiling Springs. Nobody ain't won nothin' in our family before. I was going to be the first and I was going to nab the greatest prize in Boiling Springs."

"You mean bigger than Best Parsip at the county fair?" Carmene tittered.

Shandy could have walloped her one good and proper right from where she was sitting but she chose instead to be a lady...and to slide Dirk's hand another inch towards her tingly zone. "Anyway," she sniffed, "someone leaked the details of my spectacular transformation to my mother. I was mortified. Completely mortified in front of the whole town. I picked up the hem of my satin ball gown with the bugle-beaded bolero jacket and ran right off the stage. I didn't stop running until I was five and half miles beyond the Boiling Springs City Limits. And I never went back. But what has that got to do with anything?"

"I have a inking," Dirk responded. "Don't you think it's strange that Clare Voyant could know something about your own family that you don't?" The tip of his index finger wormed its way inside the hem of Shandy's pink-raspberry coloured Victoria's Secret Brazilian Cut Stretch Lace Panties. Thank God I wore the good stuff tonight, Shandy thought to herself, I'm a toey after all this excitement and clearly Dirk wants to slip me a length. And oh my heavens above, what a length it is too. Ooooh...I can't wait until we drop these slags off at...no, wait, did someone just ask me something...?

"Say what?" Shandy asked innocently.

"Give me your box," Dirk demanded abruptly.

"Oooo..." Shandy gurgled, "I love it when---hey, what are you doing?"

Dirk swiftly withdrew his hand from the inside of her lap. "The box you took from Clare Voyant. Give to me."

Mystified, Shandy handed over the heavily bejeweled box. Saul and Carmene leaned forward to see what Dirk was up to. Even Iva came up for some air. Dirk took the box from Shandy and opened it again. He thrust his hand inside and he groped around for something. Shandy had no idea what Dirty Dirkie was up to but she eyed it all enviously.

"Ah ha!" Dirk muttered. "Just as I thought."

"What?" all three queens queried in unison.

"This thing has a false bottom."

"It ain't the only one in this car with one of those," Iva commented before descending into the shadows of the back seat once more.

Dirk pulled out a thin sheet of wood and handed it to Shandy, and then reached back inside and pulled out a thick envelope.

"Oh dear god," Shandy exclaimed, "This must have been what Clare was referring to when she said that if the contents of that box gets out, she was ruined. Open it up!" she told Dirk. "Open it up and tell what's there."

Dirk did exactly that and studied the top sheet of paper. "It's a travel itinerary," he said, "For flights to Melbourne, arriving last week."

"Well, that's not surprising," Shandy said. Her tingly zone was starting to miss the warmth of Dirk's touch. "She's been wizzing all round the world scooping up drag queens to star at Destination Dung Heap. I bet she even flew Business Class. I should have burned down her mansion while I had the chance, I hate her and everything she sits on."

"No my darling, this isn't an itinerary for Clare Voyant. It's for someone named Miss Cashmere Dupree."

"WHAT?" Shandy screeched and ripped the paper out of Dirk's hands. Oh no! Not Cashmere Dupree!

"What sort of name is Cashmere Dupree?" Carmene wanted to know. "Sounds like a drag queen to me. I take it you know who that is?"

"Oh yes, indeed I do," Shandy declared. "Miss Cashmere Dupree was my arch enemy. The girl would stop at nothing from grabbing the Miss Boiling Springs crown from my deserving hands. It was SHE who told my mother about my secret op. It was SHE who ruined my life. And worst of all, it was SHE who won the Miss Boiling Springs title that year."

"And that's not all," Dirk continued, looking at the next sheet of paper in the pile in his hands. "This is a bank statement for Destination Drag Queen. And it shows a bank-to-bank transfer for one million dollars, dated last month."

"WHAT?" Shandy screeched and ripped the second sheet of paper out of Dirk's hands. It was true: someone had transfered a cool mill into DDQ's bank account. And it originated from the First National Bank of Boiling Springs. "I can't believe this is happening. After all these years, Cashmere Dupree is still out to destroy me! Why me? Why me?"

"There's more," Dirk said. Shandy turned to Dirk and, through her tears, she saw him looking at the next piece of paper in the pile he'd withdrawn from the envelope. "This here is a hotel confirmation. It's for the Grand Hyatt; a two-bedroom suite for this whole month."

"Who's name is the suite booked in?" Iva asked despite the fact she clearly had a full mouth.

"There are two names," Dirk replied. "One is Miss Cashmere Dupree."

"And the other?" Iva asked, or at least attempted to ask. It came out more like "A E O-O?"

"The other name is Miss Prissy Louella Cottonwood."

Everyone in the car gasped simultaneously, except for Iva who let out more of a gagging sound from down near the floor of the back seat.

"Hit it, Dirk my darling." Shandy commanded.

"Hit what?" He slid his hungry fingers back inside the hem of Shandy's Victoria Secret and foraged into her tingly zone. But she brushed it away.

"My greatest arch enemy and a twin sister I never knew I had are sharing a suite at the Grand Hyatt at this very moment. I want to know why and I want to know NOW!!!"

Let The Blood Run Free

Carmene was screeching like a banshee, her arms were flailing uncontrollably. "Ive been shot - I'm dying, dying do you hear me. Oh farewell cruelle cruelle worldddd"

Everyone was now in a state of shock, screaming and crying - except of course for Dirk who was used to maintaining one's composure in a crisis.

"Carmene, stop, stop, let me see" shouted Dirk

"No, no - its too late" shrieked Carmene

Dirk took control, he pinned Carmene down. "Shandy, help me, whilst I hold her, check her out, where is she wounded".

Shandy rushed to Carmene's side, noting the blood was staining her hip region which was being obscured by a rather cheap and tawdry faux Chanel quilted white vinyl shoulder bag. Pulling it aside she had a closer look.

"Ummmm the "blood" seems to be oozing from your handbag not your body darlin"

Quickly unzipping it Shandy gasped in relief. "You stupid, stupid queen, what the hell are you doing with a Razz in your bag"

"WHAT" replied Carmene. Its my Razz. I'm not shot, I'm not dying"

"Unfortunately not" replied Iva

"Oh well thats ok then" said Carmene sitting up and snatching her bag. Opening it whilst cursing under her breath she plucked a tissue from within and lamely tried to dab the stain off her 100% synthetic frock. "I got at the 7 Eleven to have later if you must know"

"Don't ever pull a stunt like that again you dumb moll" said Iva

"Why don't you shut your face - bitch"

"Enough" said Dirk "You are all extremely lucky to get away with your lives. Claire is not to be messed with, she is a very dangerous woman. Shandy I cannot believe you thought up this scheme. Its bad enough endangering yourself, but to involve others is fool hardy".

Shandy flicked her hair nervously, trying to conceal her embarrassment. Dirk was right, what was she thinking.

"I'm so sorry - I don't know what I was thinking. I was just so angry" said Shandy trying to look Dirk in the eye.

He reached for her hand "I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost you"

Everyone fell into silence.

"OH MY GAWDDDDD" said Iva "What about that box. Whats in it"

Shandy had a suspicion. Rummaging in her hand bag she located the key, the key that had fallen from the smashed Penis of Morty Hempel.

"NO - do you think it will open the box" said Carmene in a non believing tone

"Not sure - I just have a hunch"

She put the key into the lock - turning it gently as it went click.

Shandy looked at everyone "Its opened it, I don't believe it, shit".

As she lifted the lid, the jewels glistened seductively.

"Whats in there, what is it" said Iva

"For chrissakes Iva give the woman a second" snapped Carmene "So whats in there".

"Its an envelope, thats it"

Iva rolled her eyes "Open it for gods sake"

Shandy's hands shook as she peeled open the envelope. Inside was a single peice of paper.

"Let me see, whats this all about. It looks like some sort of certificate" Her eyes flashed over the document "How bizarre, its a birth certificate. FUCK - its my birth certificate" Shandy flushed with nerves as she studied it closely.

"Read it out" said Iva

"Its embarrassing - its got my birth name, my male name. Oh well, I don't have any secrets. Its got my fathers name Augustus William Cottonwood"

"COTTONWOOD" snickered Carmene. Shandy raised an eyebrow, she stopped instantly.

Shandy continued "And my mum, Bessie Eudola Cottonwood and there is my name Delwood Hickory Cottonwood"

This time everyone broke into laughter, Dirk included. Shandy shot him a glare

Dirk tried to stop laughing "Delwood!"

"Enough you lot, thats a respectable Southern name I will have you all know" hmph "Wait" Shandy said "There's more, hang on, what? There is another name - geezus - get out of town"

"WHAT" said everyone in unison

"It seems I have a twin sister, a certain person by the name of Prissy Louella Cottonwood"

Shandy dropped the paper - she was gazing blankly not knowing what to make of it all. So many unanswered questions. Why did she not know of this sister. Did her parents give her up for adoption. Was she alive. Where did she live and most importantly - what was Claire doing with the birth certificate.

The Secrets Within

The sound of Clare's voice shocked everyone in the tiny, darkened room. They spun around to see the pseudo psychic psycho standing in the doorway that Shandy had been groping earlier. In Clare's hand Shandy could make out a lady-sized silver revolver, its side panels inlaid with the most darling sheaths of jade. Clare raised it to chest level.

"Now," she whispered harshly, "speaking of dropping dead..."

Iva, Camene and Shandy gasped, this was some serious sheep shit going down. As glamorous as the surrounds of that couture-laden walk-in wardrobe was, there was no way Iva was going to kiss her jugs of steel goodbye here.

Saul and Iva glanced at each other, it was but a moment but their eyes communicated something to each other that words could not express. The understanding that flickered under Iva's Haute-Couture Socialite Collection Bloodsuckingly Black mascara-laden eyelashes was in total sync with the thoughts jumping to the forefront of Saul's manly brow-
THIS BITCH IS GOING DOWN AND WE'RE GOING TO TAKE HER.

Shandy and Carmene crawled for cover, hiding behind a collection of stunning furs. Shandy fought hard to concentrate on the life-and-death situation unfolding in front of her eyes while simulteanously soothingly stroking Clare's majestic badger stole. In the smoothest of ass-kicking swipes Iva lifted her Gerbe-stockinged leg (French) and pointed her nude-blonde stiletto clad size 11 directly at the silver pistol. At the exact same moment Saul dived directly at Clare. Saul's manly frame was too much for the rather mediocre medium and Iva's size 11 proved to be quite a bit stronger than the girly grip Clare had on her puny pistol. Clare lurched to the ground in the most undignified fashion, falling clumsily while exposing a rather large portion of her ample plumber's cleavage. There was a single piercing sound of a shot being fired and much commotion.

Saul leapt to his feet and offered his hand to Iva, "Let's split Sweetheart."

Iva offered him her sexiest smirk and slapped her hand into his. Their hands met, as their eyes had done earlier, forging a connection in the dark and a moment that would ensure gunpowder was an aphrodisiac for both of them for years to come. There was something firm and pulsing between them...

"Jesus, move over you two and let's get out of here." Shandy had found herself bowled over and in the thick of the scrum, her pace pressed into Saul's pulsing manhood and the back of her head nestled in Iva's throbbing mound.

The two tore themselves apart and pulled Shandy to her feet.

"She's out cold," Shandy said referring to Clare Voyant, who lay sprawled in a cartoon-character fashion on the ground.

"Let's split," Saul said pushing the door open.

Saul burst through the door, unaware that the frail and pansyesque Wil was on the other side, having crept up on his health-stockinged feet to peek in at the commotion. Saul sent him flying, knocking Wil and his Doctor Scholl's out at the same time.

Iva and Saul high-fived each other and began to hug.

"Get a room later you pair of fuckstruck randy-rooters," Shandy uttered as she hustled between them, "We need to split this popsicle stand before Rip Van Winkle and Sleeping Beauty wake up to us."

Iva looked down at her hand, still holding the hideous bejewelled hood, she turned and dropped it on Wil's crumpled body, "Bitch, please!" She uttered as she turned to make her escape.

The three ran down the stairs before Iva paused, "But where's Carmene?" She looked frantically around.

"It's ok I'm coming," Carmene was clambering down the stairs holding something bulky.

They flew outside and out of the high security gates just in time to see a white security van pull up outside the house. They paused, this was it, they were caught red-handed breaking, entering and making poor-taste jokes in the home of their rival. The tinted window came down and the rear doors of the van burst open. A face appeared in the window, it was Dirk, the suavest thing to hit the police force since Jimmy Smits.

"Jump in gang," He ordered.
"What are you doing?" Shandy screamed as she clamoured into the back of the van.
"Just saving your arses...again." He called as the doors swung shut and the van sped off.

The foursome in the back took a moment to catch their breath. They had all seen some crazy shit in their times, whether it be the half-man half-horse that lived in the wild bushland in the back of Boiling Springs, or the gang of Aryan Neo-Nazi's who ruled Cell Block H where Saul had been incarcerated or even a trumpet-playing landlady with a collection of plaster penises - but this day would certainly go down in their shared history as a fucking close-call.

There was a lound bang as Carmene pulled something onto the stormtrooper style seats in the rear of the van.

"What's that?" Shandy asked looking at the jewel-encrusted box Carmene had slapped onto the spartan seat.

Carmene turned to Saul, "I was hoping you could tell me."

Saul slid his hands over the lid, it was inlaid with precious gems, glistening diamonds, rich-red rubies and a rather hideous huge opal in the centre.

"I think this is it," Saul uttered, "Pass me the key."

Shandy pulled the key from between her rather massive not-so-grassy knolls where she had snuggled it for safe keeping.

Saul slid the key into the lock, turned it gently and they were so silent that every one of them heard the faint click as the box was unlocked and the lid was opened.

Suddenly there was a scream, Dirk swerved the van as the sound of pain shuddered from the back of the van. It was Carmene, she was looking down at herself and she was completely covered in blood.

Caught in Crazed Clare's Calloused Clutches

With that they could hear the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Speading the curtains Iva screamed "Fuck, fuck, its Clare, she's back".

"What do you mean, you crazy bitch?" Shandy demanded. "It can't be Clare. She only just left a few minutes ago."

Iva peered back through the window. "Exactly how many vermilion coloured Audi's do you think they made?" Iva replied with unnecessary sarcasm.

Shandy and Carmene joined Iva at the window and stood transfixed as Clare Voyant and Will van Pill pulled themselves out of Clare's slut-red vehicle. "Shut up!" Clare screamed at her so-called business manager. "Just shut the fuck UP!" She slammed shut the door and started making her way towards the front of the house.

"Oooo-arrr!" Carmene sing-songed under her breath, "somebody's not hap-py!"

As much as she wanted to hear the rest of this conversation, Shandy knew that it was time to get the hell out of this monument to the taste of the nouveau riche. "Follow me," she told her two sequined sidekicks. She led them back to the top of the stairs. On their way in she'd spotted a closet under the curving stairway that led up to Clare's boudoir. If they could just discretely ensconce themselves in there for the time being, they could easily slip out the front door after Clare had kicked Will van Pill out and gone to bed.

But Shandy had underestimated Clare Voyant's ability to negotiate treacherous gravel in four-inch crocodile suede Salvatore Ferragamo mules. They had only started down the stairs when Clare's front door swung open.

"HOW COULD YOU LOSE THAT KEY???" Clare bellowed like a banshee in nipple clamps. She was so distracted that she failed to see Shandy, Iva and Carmene retreat into her white-on-white-on-white bedroom.

"Where can we hide? Where can we hide?" Iva and Carmene wailed in unison.

"The walk-in closet!" Shandy pushed her cohorts into Clare's jam-packed closet and closed the door behind them just as Clare threw open her boudoir doors with a clang.

"You are such an imbecile!" Clare hissed at Will. "I trusted you with that key. You know what that box holds. Anyone who has that key and locates the box, holds my life, my entire FUTURE in their hands." The three glittering glamourpusses heard Clare wrench off her Black Brazilian Bombshell Ferragamos and hurl them across to the other side of the room. "If the contents of that box gets out, I am ruined. RUINED!"

"It can't have gone far," Will van Pill was trying hard to pacify the unpacifyable. "It's bound to turn up. These things always do."

"We're not talking about some lost eyelash curlers, you whacked-out whackjob. Do you understand that I cannot open DDQ without access to the contents of that box? Without that key, DDQ is history before it's even opened."

"But that means nobody will see my spectacular finale: KEBAB'S KRAZY KAVALCADE. Donna's going to be devastated."

Shandy looked down at the pointy hood with the letters KKK spelled out in orange sequins. With all the excitement going on, she'd forgotten that she still had it in her hand.

"What sort of drag queen finale has pointy headwear with the letters KKK stitched on it?" Iva arksed.

"The clueless kind," Shandy replied and slung the hideous thing into the deepest recesses of the closet.

"Oh, why am I even bothering?" Clare hissed out. "You barely know what day it is. Why oh why did I trust you with something so important? Well, don't just stand there, fetch my dressing gown."

The three trembling trespassers looked at each other, their lips, lavished in L'Oreal Sheer Juicy Lip Gloss Number 7, parted in fear. "Quick!" Shandy told the others and they scampered down the walk-in closet to the far door. It was still open thank god. They shot through the door and closed it behind them.

Clare's crude conniption fits were a dull, muffled roar now. "We're safe for the moment," Shandy told her cohorts.

"Yeah, but for how long?" Iva asked. "I can feel my L'Oreal Sheer Juicy Lip Gloss Number 7 starting to wear off and you know how naked I feel without my lip gloss."

"Yeah," Carmene laughed, "and we know how you feel about being naked."

While her two gabbing girlfriends gaily giggled, Shandy made her way towards a thin crack of light that glowed softly from the far side of the rear room. She knelt down and ran her finger along it, then up one side. Why, it was a door! She felt around for a handle but found nothing. Nor was there a keypad like the one they used to get into this room with. Shit crap and double fuck! They were locked in!

Shandy pulled out her leopard skin print mobile phone and speed dialed the first name on the list. "Hel-Hello...?" the husky male voice answered, all low and breathy.

"Dirk my darling, tis moi," Shandy whispered into her phone.

"Oh baby, I've been waiting up for you," Dirk replied. "And when I say up, I mean UP."

"Oh darling, I'm in a terri--wait, what did you say?"

"I'm laying here, completely naked, horny as hell and hard as a rock. Where have you been, baby? I don't think I can hold off much longer."

"Oh Dirk, you dirty, dirty boy. So you're naked, huh?" Shandy pictured Dirk's rippling body etched with moonlight, his broad pecs, sprayed with silky hair, panting in the soft glow of the vanilla-scented candles he always lit whenever they made their brand of wild, animal love. Then she couldn't help but let her mind wander down past the love trail that led from his navel to his spectacular gob-choker. Oh how she longed to lick its shaft and tease its ripe, firm head.

"What are you wearing?" Dirk asked in a low groan. "Is it lacy? Delicate? Will I be able to rip it from your body with one almighty roar?"

Shandy couldn't help herself but let out an orgasmic gasp. "As a matter of fact, I'm wearing-" But then a bothersome tap on her shoulder completely shattered the mood.

"I'm sorry," Iva said, although Shandy could tell that she wasn't sorry in the slightest, "but could you put Phone Sex Phil on hold long enough to for me to remind you that we're in a bit of a pickle here...?"

Shandy ha-a-a-ted to admit it but Iva had a point. Reluctantly she cut her luscious lover off mid stroke "Dirk. I have something I need to tell you."

"Does it involve patent leather and erotic ass-play?"

"No," Shandalier admitted reluctantly, "but I'll get back to you on that."

"What is it?" Dirk sounded worried now. But was he, Shandy couldn't help wondering, still granite hard...? "Where are you? I'll come and get you."

"I'm at Clare Voyant's," Shandy explained.

"She's taken you hostage?!"

"Mmmm...not exactly. I'm here with Iva and Carmene and we're ... well ... how should I put this? We've locked ourselves in a secret room at the back of her outrageously huge walk in closet. I've wanted a walk-in closet all my life but I never - and I mean NEVER - pictured one this big!"

"Shandalier, my sweet, are you saying that you trespassed into Clare Voyant's property and you broke into her house?"

Shandy let out a haughty sniff. "Well darling, if you put it like that it sounds tacky and I can assure you that I've not committed an act of tackiness since I was in the Miss Boiling Springs Beauty Pageant in 1978 and the judge offered...well, let's save that story for another time."

At that point Shandy heard a strange gurgling noise coming from somewhere behind her. "Shandy!" she heard Carmene's voice call out softly but urgently. "Oh Shandy, I think we have an emergency."

"I am quite aware that we're in trouble," Shandy retorted impatiently.

"It's Iva. She's having some sort of attack. I think it's the claustrophobia. She hates being squished up in small places like this. Even if it is filled with the most fabulous haute couture we've ever seen in all our live-long days."

Shandy peered through the couture-slathered semi-darkness to see Iva sprawled out on the Chilean silk shagpile; she was shaking like an artificial peacock feather. "Oh for god's sake," Shandy muttered, "Of all times to choose..." Then she heard Dirk's voice all out from her mobile phone. "Shandy? Shandy" Are you still there? Speak to me!"

But before she could respond, there was a series of soft beeps. By the 9th beep, Shandy realised that someone was pressing the keypad outside the door and was about to come in. Leaving poor convulsing Iva to fend for her own damn self, the other two dove behind a stack of devastatingly gorgeous Christian Lacroix numbers that made Shandy wish she'd brought a huge clutch purse.

A broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted figure filled the doorway in mysterious silhouette. Shandy held her breath. Carmene held her tits. "I know you're in there!" the manly man said.

"Wait!" Shandy whispered to Carmene who was holding onto her tits way longer than necessary. "I know that voice! I know that waist! I know those shoulders!" She stood up. "Saul? Is that you?"

"Yes," Morty's hard-bodied son replied. "It's me."

Shandy heard Carmene next to her positively gurgling with pleasure. "But how-?"

Saul stepped into the secret room. "I've been here all along," he explained. "Hiding amongst all the furs."

"That bitch has furs too?" Iva demanded. Apparently the sight of Saul's hulking frame had brought her out of her fit. "God I hate her."

"But why are you here?" Shandy asked.

"I don't have the key but I know what the box it opens looks like. I snuck in here to see if I could find it. It has everything. The bribes, the blackmailing, photos, confessions. You have no idea what Clare's been up to."

"Oh, but I think I can work it out," Shandalier responded. "Well guess what, my gorgeous little drop dead hunk of boy meat. We have the key. So let's join forces and together we can bring this motherfucker down!"

"I wouldn't be so quick to count my Versace g-strings if I were you."

The sound of Clare's voice shocked everyone in the tiny, darkened room. They spun around to see the pseudo psychic psycho standing in the doorway that Shandy had been groping earlier. In Clare's hand Shandy could make out a lady-sized silver revolver, its side panels inlaid with the most darling sheaths of jade. Clare raised it to chest level.

"Now," she whispered harshly, "speaking of dropping dead..."