Thje Christmas Eve Worker - Part 7 free porn video

The Christmas Eve Worker Part Seven By Silly Sissy Sarah [email protected] - Sarah's words - Hello again, everyone! It's been so long since I last posted this story. [Warning: Reading this story may result in sugar and spice overdosing. Just kidding!] Please enjoy the story. *** 'Ten.' I counted in my head. That was the tenth male driver who looked over his shoulder, checking who was behind our wheels when he overtook us in a flash. His irritated face seethed, 'I knew it, it's always the women'. Ashley drove cautiously since her driving license aged barely over four months. The behemoth dimensions of her father's BMW were unnerving her minuscule confidence, and the icy road wasn't steadying her steering either. At times, the metal horse galloped in a drunken stupor. Inside me, I prayed we'd make it to the mall alive. The town was just a stone throw away from my grandmother's place, but we crawled for almost an hour to reach the precinct. At last, we arrived at the mall car park in one piece. Unfortunately, there was a horde of vehicles filling up all the lots. After spinning countless circles, we scampered upon an empty pocket at the furthest end to the mall. Given Ashley's shaky performance on the road, an image of champagne gold BMW perpetually caressed the parking space visualized in my mind. But to my astonishment, she composedly swirled the vehicle into the narrow slot in a fluent reversing motion and positioned the gigantic car in perfect alignment to the parallel white-painted dividers. The entire feat clocked a record time of three seconds when she killed the engine. Ashley caught my bewildered expression and knew what was going on my mind. She smirked, "My instructor always praised me on my parking." "Um, okay." I gave an embarrassed smile. No wonder my dad always said never underestimates women! Alice surveyed the surroundings and moaned, "I hate it! This is so far away from the mall!" "Can't be helped. This is the only slot left," Ashley shrugged, pulling up the handbrake. She looked really relieve that her hands were finally off the steering wheel. "Come on, girls. Get your lazy butts moving! It isn't really that far," Ashley cheered, looking a little rueful. Alice and I groaned, making miserable noises. Expectedly, the howling wind gave a frosty welcome hug as soon as I stepped out of the sedan. Judging from my two days' hands-on experiences, I concluded that miniskirts and skimpy tops are best reserved for summertime. Alice shuddered uncontrollably, "Freezin'! To the mall, quick!" Ashley and I concurred through our trembling legs. We made a mad dash for the snow-capped edifice about sixty yards away. The snow-splattered glass doors slid open, revealed a cozy, Christmas-themed shopping arena. It was bustling with people everywhere. A bunch of boys walked past us. Their fleeting glances swept through me like an x-ray beam. In a sudden awareness of my appearance, I felt a pinch of 'stage-fright' surged rapidly. Was I being read? Timidly, I shrank behind Ashley. I couldn't help but to wonder why I didn't have this self-consciousness when I pretended as a girl, walking down the streets to meet my parents yesterday. Perhaps to me at that point of time, those girl clothes were just a costume, a disguise to get out of a sticky situation. But now, I was supposed to be a girl, to look as one, to behave as one, and to think as one. It wouldn't be nice if someone found out my true gender. No, they won't. I wouldn't let it happen. I'm a girl, not a boy anymore, at least for now. Ashley whispered, "Having cold feet?" I gave an awkward smile and whispered back. "Yeah, literally." A hand hugged my shoulder from behind. It was Alice's. She beamed, "Don't worry. They're just checking us out. All guys are like that. You looked fine. No, you looked CUTE!" "Thanks, girls." "You're welcome, Petra," Ashley replied with a wide grin. True enough, those boys swiftly shifted their attentions to a quartet who dressed far too glamorous for shopping purposes. They seemed a bit snobbish, like some badly-behaved divas. One of the glam pusses spotted us and said something to her companions. A look of disapproval crossed their faces when they appeared to be inspecting us. Then as if on cue, they started to giggle very loudly. Obviously, we were being laughed at, for some unknown reasons. Alice raised her eyebrows and whispered loudly, "Wow! Look at them, prom night or high-tea with the Queen?" "More like bitches-in-heat waiting to be hitched," Ashley snapped harshly. "I don't like them. Don't you, Petra?" "Yeah, me too." I agreed meekly. Ashley kept her watchful eyes on those girls until they were out of sight. Are girls so hostile to other girls when they decided to hate each other? Even at first glance? Alice barged into my thoughts and reminded, "Ladies, are we still shopping or not?" "Of course!" we chorused, and giggled at our uniformity. I pondered, "But where're we going to?" Through a quick glimpse, I realized there were so many different kinds of shops in the mall. It was not that I never been to a mall before; I never shop as girl! Being a guy, the mall almost certainly meant get in, buy the necessaries and then get out. The restaurants, bookstores, super-marts and other guy shops were the only places a bloke could enter without anyone raising an eyebrow. I figured the guys' designated areas most probably made up only thirty percent of the mall, the rest were girls' stuff. Ashley considered, "Um, let me think... I know I need to get some earrings to match my new halter neck top. And then a couple of mascara pens... I'm out of them, thanks to you, Alice. And what else? Gee, I swear I remember the rest..." "Well, you always use my lipsticks too. Anyway, my nails need a little attention. They look so dull now. So why don't we go to the manicure spa since you guys are so clueless?" Alice suggested, inspecting her immaculate nails. "Hmmm, me too. Mine looked chipped. How about you, Petra?" "Um, yeah. Sounds great to me. Let's go," I mumbled, thinking, 'How about a dozen of eggs from the K-mart, requested by your mother?' Moments later, I was standing in front of a pinkish logo that read, 'Jeanne's Nail Spa'. The curving letterings were wrapped in some artistic patterns resembling a pair of manicured hands. My heart skipped a beat, as I was about to invade one of the most guarded female sanctuaries. Somehow, I had to gulp down an uprising uneasiness back to my stomach. "Petra! What are you doing? Stop dreaming! Come on, get in," Alice ushered impatiently, holding the heavy glass door opened for me. The place was well lit and spacious, which one couldn't tell from the outside view since a line of misted glass panels shielded the interiors. Although the decorations were austere, it exuded a classy feminine taste, which was further enhanced by the scent of the lavender incense lingered in the atmosphere. An orchestrated version of the Broadway classic 'Memory' was softly played in the background. Talk about surreal! While I half-expected a woman clad in flowing velvet gown to serve us, a young woman dressed in a cute nurse uniform and a silly Santa hat practically jumped out from the Venetian blind behind the counter. "Hello, ladies! Merry Christmas! Welcome to Jeanne's Nail Spa! My name is Chrissie. How may I be of service?" greeted the bubbly assistant. Alice said, "Merry Christmas, Chrissie. I'm Alice. And this is my twin, Ashley and my cousin, Petra. We need some nail treatment and new designs for our nails." Stunned, I leaned towards Alice and whispered, "We? What do you mean? I thought only you and Ashley are getting the manicure?" Equally stunned, she replied, "Didn't you agree to it?" "Well, I thought I'm just accompanying you guys..." "Nope, it isn't. So, do you want to get a manicure?" "Well erm, I don't know... I," I hesitated. Since I'd agreed to go shopping with the girls, I know I would be buying some female clothes and stuff, inevitably. But a manicure seemed weird. Having nail polish on my fingertips was fine. It was the service that bothered me. It felt like something a really girlish kind of girl would do. I didn't know if I was ready to go to that level yet. I intended to experience the basic stuff. "Is there a problem, ladies?" asked Chrissie, looking confused about the commotion. Ashley quickly responded, "Oh, it's nothing. My cousin has never visited to a nail spa. This is her first time. I guess she's not used to let strangers do her nails." "Oh, first timer eh? Darling, you don't have to worry a bit about us. Our specialists and attendants are trained professionals and will make you feel right at home," Chrissie reassured, almost in a businessman's tone. Alice persuaded, "Come on! It's just nails. If you don't like the result, just redo them." "All right, I guess." The girls smiled warmly at me and I made a half-smile with slight reluctant. I wasn't too sure about this. Chrissie depicted fervently, "Well, ladies. I have good news for you! We have a special holiday package for this Christmas! A full manicure and pedicure plus skin-smoothing and massaging service at half price if you come to us in groups of three or more people! How does that sound to you, ladies?" "Wow, that sounds fabulous! Sis, let's take it!" Alice exclaimed, clapped her hands in delight. Ashley said nothing and nudged me lightly, waiting for my answer. Alice turned around to look at me. Her eyes seemed to be begging me to join them. I couldn't let them down. "Yeah, sounds fun! I'm on for it!" I beamed with a bright smile. Sweeping up the Venetian blind, Chrissie said, "This way please, ladies!" "What's skin-smoothing anyway?" I whispered to Ashley. She giggled and replied, "You'll find out soon enough." It was close to noon when we left the spa in high spirits. I couldn't stop admiring my new French nails. They made my hands looked like those of a noble lady, conservative and yet, classy and feminine. "Looks like someone can't take her eyes off those nails," Alice teased. "I wondered who's that person we almost had to drag in with a knife at her throat?" Ashley let out a small chuckle and said, "And I wondered too, which of us insisted the lady to give her the most vigorous scrub on her feet for a softer skin?" "Okay, okay. It's all me," I admitted unashamedly. I could still feel the tingle on my baby-soft feet with every step. I had to say, the skin-smoothing process was the best part of the pedicure. My feet were treated to a hot Jacuzzi bath, scented with lavender essence. The attendant then used an oval grainy file to scrub away the dead, dry skin on my soles. I never knew I had such thick and coarse soles. This process really made my feet soft and tender, almost like a baby's bottom. Later, they were dipped in hot paraffin to melt away the aching. And finally, there was this relaxing massage with a moisture lotion that truly made me felt like a pampered princess. Alice skipped near me and showed off her silver nails sprinkled with snowflake motifs. She boosted, "But I think mine looked far better than yours. And definitely prettier than Sis's!" "Sure, as if you designed it yourself. Just another off-the-shelf," Ashley remarked sarcastically, waving her hands deliberately in our faces. "But mine, is an original, one of a kind. I designed it myself!" Alice squirmed, "Ew, get 'em out of my face! They are so ugly!" "Ouch, I'm so hurt. My own sister, how can you say that?" Ashley exclaimed, feigning to wipe an invisible tear away. "Well, they looked, kind of cool," I lied blatantly. Ashley had extraordinary tastes, but her design wasn't really my cup of tea though. Her fingernails were airbrushed with pinkish lava motifs and her thumbnails spotted an eerie-looking fiery cat-eye. Ashley gloated, "At least Petra thinks they're cool!" "It's a lie. She's just consoling you." "No, she isn't," Ashley argued, spinning around to me. "They're really cool, right?" I hated to be a judge and hazarded, "Erm, how about lunch?" "See?" Alice laughed. Defeated, Ashley folded her arms in mock anger and sneered, "I guess mere mortals can never appreciate the works of a genius." Alice and I were reduced to a couple of silly schoolgirls, giggling at her expense. The rest of the afternoon was a dazzle. We had a light and quick lunch as if it was a pit stop to gear up for a shopping race. Our first checkpoint was the department store with discount banners hanging everywhere. I picked a couple of tops and skirts for myself. It was more of a necessary since my luggage bag was misplaced. Not to be outdone, the twin sisters walked away with two handfuls of shopping bags. Did I mention that I'm the proud owner of two newly pierced earlobes? I had my eyes on a pair of lovely pearl earrings, which unfortunately weren't clip-on. I really wished to have them, but the embarrassing thing was that I had blood phobia. Like a little devil perched on my shoulder, Alice kept luring me to pierce my ears. Regrettably, there wasn't a fairy at the other ear to keep my head levelled. "Hey look! There's the shop!" Alice squealed excitedly, when we left the shoe store. I asked, "What shop?" Before I could react, Alice had arm-locked Ashley and me, dragging us towards an extremely pinkish shop. The shop name was in Japanese, which I couldn't read at all. 'Bad marketing skills,' I thought. Why would the owner have a shop name that nobody could understand? "Neo-prints!" Ashley gushed. "Never expect to see one here!" I mused, "Oh, neo-prints. I've heard of it, but never seen one before. Instant photo-taking machine, isn't it?" The sisters stared at me with bewilderment. Alice gasped, "Good grief! Are you sure you're from the city? I can't believe it!" "Me neither. It's the hottest thing among girls!" Ashley cried, widening her eyes. "Okay, enlighten me." Alice said gleefully, "You bet! We're going to have so much fun together!" We marched into one of the gigantic neo-print machines scattered in the shop. Alice expertly maneuvered the control buttons without even reading the instructions on the monitor screen. I figured there was no point reading them unless you understood Japanese. Alice babbled, "Okay, let's do a sixteen-snapshot first. Petra, did you see that traffic lights thingy at the corner of the screen? Before the third light lights up, you have to strike a new pose. Then the machine will take our picture and it will repeat the steps again until all sixteen snapshots are taken. By the way, each interval is about three seconds. So you might want to think of several poses before I start the machine." "Erm, poses?" I parroted dumbly. Ashley explained, "You know, just make a face. Cute, sexy, angry or just smile at the camera. The sixteen-snapshot only takes half-length pictures up to our waists." "Oh, I see. But sixteen different expressions? That's going to be hard!" I gasped. Alice had her finger hovered dangerously over a red button, as though she was going to launch a nuclear missile. She winked, "Girls, are you ready? Start your engines!" "No wait!" Too late! The lights started counting down and I just managed to force an awkward smile on my face in time. Snap! In a flash, the sixteen shots were completed. My eyes had almost gone blind, thanks to the sixteen consecutive bursts of the flashbulb. I remembered I made several funny faces initially, and then the rest were a blur. The neo-print machine hummed mechanically and dispensed three A5 colourful papers filled with sixteen picture stickers each. Alice quickly examined the products and laughed hilariously, "You looked so funny, Petra! Look at this!" "Let me see!" Ashley shrieked, snatching one of the filmy papers from her sister. She let out a chortle immediately. Feeling annoyed and anxious, I yelled, "Hey, let me see. What are you laughing at? You girls are so mean!" "Sorry, Petra. Didn't really mean to be rude. See for yourself," Alice stuttered, passing the stickers to me and broke into a giggle fit again. I grabbed it angrily and inspected the pictures. It wasn't very long before I joined the girls in stiches. I laughed uncontrollably, "What? This is me? I looked so weird!" In one of the pictures, I had a really ugly monkey face while the girls mercilessly squeezed my cheeks. There were five more such embarrassing pictures, which were indescribably hideous. "Well, this one looks great!" Ashley noted. A glimpse of hope! I asked eagerly, "Which one?" "This one." She pointed to the tenth picture. "Wow! You looked gorgeous, Petra," Alice marvelled. It was a picture of our faces pressed closely next to one another. I'm in the centre while Alice and Ashley were by my sides. Wow! Is that really me? I couldn't recognize myself at all! It looked more like the front cover of Seventeen. The girls looked glamorous too. I mumbled, "I looked beautiful. Wow!" "You're so shameless!" Alice slapped my arm in good fashion. "You know, your face looked a little similar to ours." Ashley took a closer look at the picture. After a quick scan of the stickers again, Alice interjected, "Hey, she's right! We could be triplets!" Ashley continued, "Not that I'm bragging, Alice and I are hot properties in our school." Her sister nodded proudly. I thought, 'Now, who's shameless?' "What I'm trying to point out is that you're a hottie too if you study at our school. The boys won't leave you alone for a moment," Ashley stated flatly. I smiled embarrassedly, "Gee, thanks." "Melissa looks pretty too. I mean before she had little Johnny when she's thinner then," Alice added. "I guess our Granny has passed her genes to all of us. Grammy is a real beauty when she's young." Ashley let out a sharp shriek and exclaimed, "Hey, have you ever see Grammy's picture when she's our age?" I shook my head. "Why? What's up?" "I swore you looked exactly like her! Jesus! I only realized it now when Alice mentioned about Grammy!" "Really? Stop kidding around with me!" I laughed. Shocked, Alice covered her mouth and cried excitedly, "No, it's true! I wish I had the photo with me right now. Holy snakes!" Ashley said with mock jealousy, "Looks like Petra inherited most of Grammy's beauty. This is so unfair!" "Yeah, not fair at all! You lucky cow!" Alice giggled. The news sounded really flattering although I had never seen that photo before. I could imagine Grandma Serena's face was plastered with mine, dressed in an old-fashioned conservative dress to have her photo taken in a studio. Now, that would be truly funny! But on second thought, I realized I was actually a boy, not a girl. What was I doing with this much beautiful girly genes in me? It was not like I would be a girl forever after this Christmas. I hadn't decided yet. Could I still go back to be a guy after all these experiences? It made me cringed a little as these thoughts reverberated through my mind. "What's wrong? You looked pale," asked Ashley, her voice was filled with genuine concern. "Nothing, just a little tired. I've never shopped this long and intensive before," I assured smilingly, lifting up my shopping bags. I didn't intend to tell them my troubles and spoiled the mood. Suddenly, an amplified voice boomed throughout the mall. "Ladies and gentlemen! A very good afternoon and merry Christmas to all you folks here. I'm Stanley Cowell. Hope you've enjoyed your holiday shopping. Today, we'll be having a very special event called 'Search for Cinderella' organized by the prestigious Jimmy Choo Boutique." Alice said curiously, "What's going on over there? Let's take a look!" "Alice!" Ashley yelled after her sister. We witnessed her diminishing figure varnished quickly into the huge crowd gathered in front of an enormous stage at the ground floor. Ashley and I had no choice but to find her. Frantically, we muscled our way through a sea of bodies. Meanwhile, the mc continued his opening. "We've selected as many as twelve contestants from this vicinity to try on this pair of exquisite Jimmy Choo Cinderella slippers worth one hundred thousand dollars!" After a hard struggle, we managed to squeeze into the front row and found Alice. Ashley took no time to reprimand her little sister. She chided sharply, "What are you doing? Taking off like that. Don't you know that Petra is not feeling well?" "Sorry... But look at those slippers!" Alice gasped, her eyes transfixed on something on the stage. I traced the imaginary line of her gaze and found the most beautiful thing I ever set my eyes on. Sitting on a red velvet cushion, there was a pair of dainty glass slippers shimmered brightly like the North Star in a cloudy night. The mc elaborated, "These stunning slippers are encrusted with ten two-carat diamonds each. Made of fibreglass, they are fully handcrafted and take a period of six months to be completed." The crowd sighed and awed. "Among our twelve lovely contestants, the one with the best fit in these beautiful slippers will be the winner of this event! The winner stands to walk away with a one thousand dollars voucher from Jimmy Choo boutique!" The crowd cheered in unison, making a boisterous roar. The mc held up his finger to silence the crowd. He carried on, "Oh boy, I'm getting rather forgetful these days. What the 'Search for Cinderella' for if there isn't a prince? So, let's put our hands together for the star of the infamous Lord of the Rings trilogy, Orlando Bloom!" Immediately, the teenage girls in the crowd screamed and shrieked wildly as though they were attending a rock concert. Many banners and cardboards bearing declarations like 'I Love Legolas!' or 'Marry Me, Orlando!' were raised to greet the movie star. Alice screamed, "Orlando Bloom! Why's he doing here! Oh my god! Oh my god!" "Calm down, Alice! This is too noisy and stuffy! Let's go!" I shouted. Frankly, I didn't see what was the hype about this guy. I mean, the movie was great, but he was just one of the cast. "Come on, Alice! Let's go!" I shouted again. She shouted back, "No way! It's Orlando Bloom, you know! Oh my god! Here he comes!" I sighed and decided to approach the sensible halve of the twins. "Ashley, do you wish to leave? It's too noisy!" "Oh my... Orlando Bloom," Ashley mumbled dreamily. She was star-struck when I saw her. Rationality was the last thing on her mind now. A slim figure jogged up the stairs, waving his hand to the crowd as he strolled to the centre of the stage. The shrill screaming went up a notch higher and dozens of flashbulbs exploded when the man in a dark suit flashed his mega-watt smile. He addressed, "Hi everybody! Merry Christmas! I'm Orlando Bloom. I'm pleased to see all of you here. How's everyone doing?" The crowd, mostly girls chorused, "Gooddd!" And then I heard a couple of voices screamed boldly, "I love you, Orlando!" "Splendid! And yes, I love you too!" Orlando Bloom laughed, pointing his finger to the direction where those declarations came from. 'Okay, the man is a little charming. That's all,' I thought to myself. The mc, Stanley took over from Orlando Bloom and announced, "All right, ladies. I bet you have an eye-feast of Orlando Bloom, but let's not forget about our event 'Search for Cinderella'! Our guest star, Orlando Bloom will be crowning the winner with this beautiful tiara on my right! So let's not dawdle any longer and welcome our lovely Cinderellas to the stage!" Six beautiful girls sashayed gracefully from each side of the stage, forming a line across the stage. Their faces were plastered with a model's 'standard-issued' smile. "Hey, I remembered those four! They were laughing at us, remember?" Alice recalled, who finally took her eyes off her idol. She pointed us to the four contestants on the extreme left of the stage. "Of course! How can I forget!" Ashley responded crossly. I mentioned, "So that's why they're dressed so pretty." "Humph! I hope they don't win!" "Of course not, Ashley!" I tried to calm her down but I could almost see smoke fuming out of her head. The event had begun and the first girl stepped forward to test her luck. She sat on an ornate chair as an attendant dressed as an English butler carefully fetched the one hundred thousand dollars slippers. He knelt in front of the girl, holding up one of the glass slippers. The crowd fell silent when she tentatively tried the slipper. Alas, her foot was too wide to slip into the slipper! Stanley judged, "Too big! Don't you think so, Orlando?" "Yes, if only the slippers are a little wider." She looked dejected and hastily joined back the line of girls. I felt sorry for her. It must be embarrassing if someone publicly announced that you had big feet, especially for girls. "For your information, I must say that none of our contestants knows the actual size of these glass slippers. Who will be the real Cinderella? Will she be our next beautiful contestant, Miss Amelia Jobs!" Stanley said, applauding for the second girl. Unfortunately for Amelia, she had long and narrow feet. Her toes and heels were jutting out awkwardly from the slippers. The crowd laughed mercilessly and the poor girl fled to backstage in tears. The following six girls were also unsuccessful at their tryouts. Finally, it was Ashley's archenemies' chances of glory or misery. "I hope they'll make a mockery out of themselves," Ashley growled. "We are down to our last four contestants and there's no clear winner so far. What do you think of their chances?" Stanley posed the question to Orlando Bloom. "From the look of their feet in compare to the slippers, I must say that all of them stand a very chance of winning the competition. It'll be a close fight," Bloom replied diplomatically. He clearly didn't wish to break any heart. "Yes, of course. Let's welcome Miss Sally Pitman!" She strutted proudly to the chair, sat down and crossed her leg up for the butler. Alice commented, "Look at her! Such arrogance!" "We'll see. She won't make it. Her soles are too thick," Ashley criticized. True enough, Ashley's prediction was correct. Sally's feet seemed to be the right size, but they just wouldn't fit. Must be the soles, as Ashley said. Still, she strutted back to her position just as conceited as before. Ashley laughed, "See?" "Next, we have Miss Joy Loveless in the queue." When the anorexic figure placed her barefoot on the butler's thigh, I thought I saw an alligator foot. The butler turned away quickly. From his expression, I figured it stunk as well. I threw in my bit of naughty comment, "Well, it seems like Miss Joy has smelly gator feet." "Nice one, Petra!" Ashley laughed. "I couldn't have said that better!" "Look! Miss Gator is forcing her foot into the slipper," Alice pointed. Joy snatched the glass slipper from the butler. She tried to shove her massive foot into the dainty slipper. Her brutal method had Stanley sweated a little. Anxiously, he pleaded, "Please return to your position, Miss Loveless. If it doesn't fit, it never will. You will only break the slipper." "Just a bit more. I can do it," grunted the skinny girl. "Please return to your position now or I will have to disqualify you based on inappropriate treatment of a non-saleable property, Miss Joy Loveless," Stanley repeated strongly. Unwillingly, she dumped the slipper back to the butler and returned to her position. The next contestant, Portia McDonald suffered the same humiliation as her predecessor when she refused to give up her disastrous attempt of splitting the slipper into two pieces of fibreglass. Stanley pretended to wipe off his sweat on his forehead and broadcasted, "Whew! Let's hope our last contestant, Miss Mary Agnes Watson will end our search for Cinderella!" Mary Agnes Watson was the one who badmouthed about us to her fiends. There was something I didn't quite like about her. She had a Prima Donna attitude written all over her heavily make-up face. I prayed she wouldn't win this competition. Stanley asked, "So, Miss Watson. Do you honestly think your lovely feet can fit nicely into these beautiful glass slippers?" Instead of looking at the mc, she kept her eyes on Orlando Bloom and purred, "I think we're made for each other." I could tell that Orlando Bloom was pretty taken back by her comment. He looked like he was blushing a little. And I thought he was a playboy. Oh my, he was that innocent? Alice retorted strongly, "What does she think she is? Shameless slut! Stop flirting with my idol!" The girls around us agreed unanimously with Alice and began to boo loudly, causing a small racket. "Excuse me?" Stanley asked incredulously. The wanton contestant faced Stanley and smiled seductively, "Of course, I mean the slippers." Stanley declared, "Yes, of course. And now, the moment of truth!" The butler knelt down, lifted Mary Agnes's foot and slowly slipped it into the slipper. He inspected the fitting and whispered to the mc. "It's a fit! Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner!" Stanley announced zealously. Mary Agnes Watson stood up to receive the ovation. Her underlings cheered as she sauntered across the stage. She smiled and waved excitedly to the crowd, which didn't seem too enthusiastic about her victory. If only she didn't incur the wrath of the Orlando fans through that flirting with their idol. Unexpectedly, she wobbled and fell down from the three-inch slippers. Immediately, her minions rushed to assist their leader. An 'aw' noise reverberated pleasingly in the crowd. The butler burrowed his brows and studied carefully at Mary Agnes's feet. With a solemn face, he whispered to Stanley again. "Ladies and gentlemen! You won't believe this! There's no winner yet! Miss Mary Agnes Watson is not the winner! I repeat, Miss Mary Agnes Watson is not the winner!" Somehow, the crowd cheered to this decision. I had a bad feeling that this event was turning into a fiasco. The decrowned Cinderella roared, "What?! Just because I fell down, you removed me? Explain it to me!" "Miss Watson, you're disqualified from this competition. Please calm down and return the slippers," Stanley pacified. She demanded, "Not until I get my explanation. Who's this little man? Who's he to decide that I'm not the winner?" "Perhaps I failed my duty as the mc, but he doesn't wish to be identified publicly," Stanley clarified, turning towards the man of mystery. The butler nodded and took over the microphone. His voice was big for his sinuous figure. He said with a thick British accent, "I'm the designer of these slippers, Miss Watson. The reason why I withdrew my decision is that these slippers are not suitable for you. I'm sorry to cause you any inconvenience." "Not suitable? What kind of a reason is that? Tell me the truth! I don't care if you're the designer of these damn shoes!" Mary Agnes hissed, baring her fangs and claws and restrained by her cronies. He sighed and explained, "Miss Watson, you have a very severe case of flat foot. If I'm not wrong, the shoes you wear must be alter or will cause great pain when you walk. You fell down, not because of tripping, but of pain. That's why I told you that you're not suitable for my slippers. Shoes are meant to protect the feet when you travel from one place to the another, not to cause pain and discomfort to the wearer." Mary Agnes sulked and slouched her shoulders in defeat. Obediently, she returned the slippers and limped away. Her friends helped her back to the line. There was a perpetual silence in the crowd. The butler/designer whispered to the mc for the third time. He seemed to be conspiring something to salvage the dreadful situation. Stanley turned his attention to the crowd. Wearing a big smile, he reported, "I have good news for you gorgeous ladies down there, you might have a chance to try on these pretty little slippers and be the winner!" The crowd buzzed over the proposition, turning the mall into a flea market momentarily. "But we'll be only picking one of you. Yes! Just one, to give a shot at these slippers! But if our designer thinks the lucky girl cannot fulfill the requirement, we'll choose the best-fit from the remaining eleven contestants!" Alice jumped and squealed breathlessly, "You heard that? We might have a chance to win it! Oh gosh! Orlando Bloom is going to crown me if I win!" "Like you said, if you win. And that's if you get picked in the first place," Ashley reminded dryly. "Don't say that. Everyone has a chance," I assured Alice, jumping with her. Alice pouted, "Yeah, Petra's right." "Well, I just hope the remaining three airheads don't win," Ashley replied happily. Stanley addressed, "Ladies, I need your full co-operation please. Listen to me carefully. These glass slippers' size is six. And if your shoe size is six, please raise up your hand. And then our dashing prince, Orlando Bloom will make his choice." There were at least fifty hands waving at the stage, including Alice and even Ashley. And I thought Ashley didn't want to try her luck. "I thought if I get chosen, I might win it and that'll show something to those tarts," Ashley explained weakly. Alice encouraged, "Come on, Petra! Put your hand up!" "I don't really like this sort of stuff." Stanley observed, "My, my. That's quite a lot of hands. My sixth sense tells me some of you are not being honest. Are you sure you're six? Orlando buddy, please help me out." "Ladies, if you're not what we're looking for, and I picked you, it'll be a pretty embarrassing situation for both of us," Bloom persuaded with an infectious smile. Immediately, the number cut by half, followed by a couple of groans in the crowd. Alice and Ashley were among the liars. "Aw, I'm seven and so is Sis." Alice confessed. "Petra, what's your size?" I hesitated, "Erm, six." "Six! What're you waiting for?" Alice yelled, grabbed my hand and raised it up high. "Stop it, Alice! I don't want to do this!" I protested, pulling back my attention-seeking French nails out of sight. Apparently, the little jostle drew more attention to us. It wasn't long before Orlando Bloom settled his eyes on us. He asked politely, "Is your shoe size six?" "Yes, she is!" Alice answered for me. He flashed his smile again. "Good! I've decided to pick this young lady in the front row." "Oh my god! What have you done?" I yelped incredulously. "A favour!" She squealed. Orlando Bloom held out his hand and said, "Miss, would you like to join us on the stage?" I couldn't look at the man without feeling jumpy. In a frantic attempt, I turned to Ashley for help, "Ashley, don't you want to go up? Go up there for me please!" "I would love to, if possible. But he said he wants you, not me, sweetheart." I made a bad excuse. "But... but what about my bags?" "I'll carry for you. Now go get 'em, tiger!" Ashley winked, snatched my shopping bags and shoved me towards the stage. Behind my back, the fervent crowd chanted, "Go! Go! Go!" There was no way I could get out of this. I wondered if this was my punishment for belittling the man in front of me. He was still patiently holding out his hand. Seeing no other options, I reached out my trembled fingers unwillingly. He held my hand gently and led me up the stairs. I felt like a docile sheep led by a shepherd. "Let's give a round of applause for this lovely young lady!" Stanley requested. The cheers were deafening and I stood stiffly like a robot. Bloom leaned over and whispered, "Wave your hand. Relax and smile." I took my shepherd's advice, did a timid wave along with a nervous smile. The crowd, if it was possible, became rowdier and I blushed. From the stage above, I immediately spotted Alice and Ashley who kept jumping elatedly, giving me the thumbs up. "Keep it down, guys! I know you boys are jealous of my position up here. Can you ladies ask your boyfriends to behave themselves while I interview this beautiful lady?" Stanley joked. After the crowd quieted down, he continued warmly, "Thank you, ladies. Good afternoon and welcome to our event, Miss. Can you tell us your name?" I gulped and answered shyly, "Pete... Petra Miller, Sir." I almost said Peter! "What a rare gem you are, Miss Miller! It's been a long time since I last saw a pretty girl who's camera-shy. Most of the girls will kill to get an opportunity like this!" What could I possibly say to that statement? On one hand, he made me sounded like a country bum. On the other hand, it seemed like a complement. I decided it was best to keep my mouth shut and smiled sweetly at him. Stanley asked, "Miss Miller. Do you think you can walk away with the one thousand dollars voucher today?" "Well, I don't know. I'd have to put my best foot forward." The crowd laughed. I swore I heard several wolf-whistles. He laughed heartily, "Miss Miller, not only are you beautiful, but also have a great sense of humour!" "Erm, thanks," I replied, feeling flushed. The butler offered the seat to me. As I lowered myself onto the ornate chair, I sensed twelve chilly stares bored into my back. I couldn't blame the contestants for having the hostile feelings against me. I mean, they had gone through all the trouble to dress up nicely for the competition and suddenly, a passerby popped out of nowhere to compete with them. Weren't they be feeling at least a little angry? Orlando Bloom whispered softly to the butler, while stealing a quick glance at me and I didn't like the look of that. Stanley confirmed my hunch to the crowd, "Oh my! Miss Miller, you're one hell of a lucky girl! Our prince wishes to serve his lady!" "May I have the honour?" Bloom requested, holding the dainty slippers in his hands. He assumed the role of the prince as in the fairytale. With a hand behind his back, he knelt and bowed gently before me. I was too stunned for words and nodded demurely. I felt my head spinning and had a stomach full of butterflies although I was pretty sure that I didn't have them for lunch just now. Is he trying to flirt with me? I didn't wish to know. I couldn't look at his eyes because, all of a sudden, they looked so mesmerizing and I knew I wouldn't be able to tear my eyes away from them. The crowd was cheering, but it was quiet to me as if someone pressed the mute button on a television remote control. In my eyes, all I could see was his image, holding the slippers, smiling broadly at me. A tap on my shoulder brought my senses back to reality. It was my prince charming. He asked, "May I remove your boots?" "Yes, please. Mister Bloom," I mumbled softly, thinking, 'Oh no! I hope my feet don't give off any weird aroma! I had walked at least three miles around the mall today!' "Orlando will do, Petra. You don't mind me calling your first name?" Orlando smiled when I shook my head furiously to his question. I felt a jolt of electricity ran through my body when he touched my stockinged foot. The feeling was almost a soul-out-of-body experience. A thought penetrated and it left me bothered, 'Oh my god, am I in love with Orlando Bloom? But he's a guy, for god's sake!' Still, I couldn't help thinking that I was the luckiest girl to have a Hollywood superstar helping me to put on my shoes. Stanley said excitedly, "And now, we shall see if Miss Petra Miller is the real Cinderella after such a long and hard search!" I held my breath when Orlando slowly guided my foot into the glass slipper. He did it again with the other slipper ever so slowly and tenderly. The butler/designer stepped forward to examine my feet. He smiled and nodded to Stanley. "Ladies and gentlemen! Miss Petra Miller is our winner! It's a perfect fit. She is the Cinderella we've been searching for!" Stanley gushed into his microphone. The crowd turned frenzy upon the announcement. Orlando placed the shining tiara on my head and helped me stand up in the one hundred thousand dollars slippers. I could hardly believe this! I won! I searched for Alice and Ashley to celebrate the moment and saw that they were already hugging each other, throwing kisses at me. "And now, we shall present the one thousand dollar voucher!" Orlando shook my hand and presented the voucher to me. To my wildest dream, he kissed me on my cheek. He said smilingly, "Congratulation, Petra!" I didn't quite hear him after that wonderful kiss he gave me. Hand in hand with Orlando, we paraded on the stage by the request of the mc. "And that's all for today! Thank you for staying with us. Let's give one last round of applause for Orlando Bloom and our winner, Miss Petra Miller!" When I was led to the backstage, I was thrilled to know the girls were waiting for me there. We screamed, jumped and hugged together like a reunion between long-lost siblings. I felt my emotions were surging high and the tears started to run down my cheeks. The girls hugged me closer and we cried in pure joy. The butler/designer interjected, "Sorry to interrupt your celebration, Miss Miller. But may I retrieve my shoes please?" "Sorry, sir! I'm so happy that I've forgotten I'm still wearing them!" I apologized, removing the priceless slippers and promptly returned them to the man. He chuckled, "It almost felt like I'm committing a sin, to ask you to return them. They fitted you so perfectly as if I made them according to the measurement of your feet. I blushed deeply to his praise. And he didn't stop there. "Perfect. Marvellous. I have never seen a girl's feet like yours. Strong and well shaped like a man's, yet so soft and feminine. Most women's feet are distorted through prolonged wearing of heels. Your feet tell me you hardly wear heels higher than two inches," he observed. I rolled my eyes and thought, 'Well, they looked like a man's because I'm guy. And I just went for a pedicure session.' I couldn't tell him the truth and kept mum, nodding to his every word. The girls tried hard to muffle their giggle. "I'd love to have you as a model for my shoes. If you're interested, call me." He produced an etched name card and insisted I take it. When he left, Alice snatched the card and read it. Her face turned pale and she croaked, "Jimmy Choo... He's Jimmy Choo himself!" Jimmy Choo! Even a guy like me had heard of that world famous shoe designer based in London. And I thought this so-called butler was just one of the designers working under the Jimmy Choo Boutique! "You lucky cow! You had Orlando Bloom knelt down for you, kissed you and now, Jimmy Choo is offering you a job as his shoe model!" Ashley squealed, elbowed my arm, and almost made me lost my balance as I was trying to wear my boots. "Ouch, that hurts! Well, don't be too jealous!" I laughed. "We can share this voucher! A thousand dollars!" "Petra, a thousand dollars can only get you two pairs of sandals or just a very small handbag from the Jimmy Choo Boutique," stated Alice flatly. I gasped incredulously, "No way! His shoes and bags are that expensive?" Both the girls nodded seriously. I smiled, "You know, you're the best friends I ever have. I'd like the both of you to have this voucher." "We can't take it from you. It's yours!" Ashley refused. "You said it. It's mine and I've the right to give it to anyone I like. Of course, not just anyone," I winked. "Think of it as a Christmas present!" "Oh, Petra. You silly girl," Alice whispered, welling tears in her eyes. Again, we had another emotion outburst and happily ruined our make-up. We retreated hurriedly to the nearest washroom. At the door, we bumped into Mary Agnes Watson and her subjects who were coming out of the washroom. Even though we had panda eyes, we held our heads up when we walked past them. Ashley casually asked, "Petra, how does it feel to have Orlando Bloom knelt in front of you?" "Like a princess, dear. I wish you were in my place," I purred viciously, looking at Mary Agnes instead. Mary Agnes looked like she was on the verge to breakdown. She threw us a tearful stare and ran away, leaving her followers chased after her sorry tail. We helped ourselves to a bout of laughter. It felt lovely to get back at our enemies. > To be continued.