Amy Crashes a Wedding

One day Janet had convinced Amy to go sit on the docks by the lake. As usual, Amy wore a baggy t-shirt over a demure black one piece, a book, as always, by her side. Amy sat reading, engrossed, on the edge of the dock, when she felt a sudden shove behind her. She plunged into the water and when she emerged saw Janet leaning down, laughing. Janet dove in a second later.

"Come on, swimming is fun! You can read any time you want back home, we're at camp! Let's play!" At this Janet gave Amy a little splash. Amy spluttered and made her way back to the ladder to ascend to the dock. Her book had flown into the lake and was ruined by now, so Amy was planning to head back to the cabin to get another one. She ran into the boys where the dock met the shore. As was their habit, they'd been watching Janet from a distance, then closed in for a better look when the thought there might be an opportunity to see her wet. Janet emerged from the water, wet hair clinging to her back, her wet, pink Hawaiian-print bikini glistening in the sunlight.

Amy was trying to push her way through the boys, but they stood stupidly in the way, not noticing her presence. Janet ran up and, as she did, noticed that every one of their eyes was focused on her chest. She rolled her eyes.

"Come on, you guys, I'm not the only one here with breasts."

Everyone looked at Mordy Silverstein, a chubby kid with a pair of prominent fatty protrusions on his chest. "Geeze, you guys, shut up!" he flushed red and crossed his arms tightly over his chest.

Janet laughed. "I'm not talking about Mordy, I'm talking about Amy!" She ran up behind Amy and seized the bottom lining of Amy's wet t-shirt. Amy looked horrified. Before she could do anything, Janet whipped the T-shirt up over Amy's head. Amy blushed and covered her chest as best she could, which everyone laughed at because she was wearing a big black one-piece that didn't really expose anything.

"I hate you so much!" shouted Amy.

At this point, Janet switched, as teenage girls tend to, from playful cousin mode to leader-of-the-herd mode, and she decided that, since Amy wouldn't play along, she'd just have to put on a show for the boys.

"Come on! They all want to see your big old boobies!" Janet gripped the straps on Amy's one piece and pulled downward. Amy fought against it, but soon some of the boys had gathered around, making any escape impossible. As Amy realized the hopelessness of her situation, her strength of will drained and her breasts slid out of the suit.

But Janet wasn't done. She knelt down and pulled the suit down to Amy's ankles, then yanked backwards, causing Amy to fall onto her butt.

"Ouch! Give it back!"

Janet stood up, stepped back, and started twirling the suit around one finger. As Amy lunged forward she quickly bunched it up and passed it over Amy's head to Steve Jones, who then winged it to Mordy, who excitedly tossed it to Tim. After a few minutes Janet had it again and she ran with it into the woods, the boys right behind her and Amy, naked, chasing the pack.

Amy soon lost them in the woods and, exasperated, sat down on a log. She got lost in thought, contemplating the trials of being a smart kid and social outcast. Amy was so wrapped up in self-pity that she didn't notice the trail of bright-red fire ants making its way around the log to her little tush.

"EEEK!" She jumped up with a shriek as the ants started biting into her butt. She ran back in the direction she thought was camp, frantically brushing her ass with both hands to get rid of the bugs.

She emerged from the woods ten minutes later, now composed, one hand holding her breasts in, the other covering her crotch. She made her way with as much dignity as she could muster back to her cabin, where she found Tim waiting. He had a sheepish look on his face.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking at the ground and shuffling his feet. "I got your swimsuit back for you!"

Amy flushed, partly at being naked before the boy of her dreams, partly at the boy of her dreams showing real, human concern for her. She sheepishly grabbed the suit with her breast-holding hand, then turned around to preserve a little of her modesty as she donned the suit.

"AAAAAHH!" She felt a sharp pain in her ass as a mass of nettles and brambles were plunged into her sensitive cheeks. Then a sharp, localized pain. "OOOOUCH!" A baby snapping turtle was also nestled into the ass of her swimsuit. The sudden movement and shouting had woken it up from a nap and it was taking out its aggression on the nearest large, flesh object it could find. Tim was doubled over in laughter, pointing at Amy. As Amy looked around for some exit from this discomfort, she saw the other boys and her cousin come out of hiding. All of them were laughing at her. Amy ran through the camp as fast as she could, with no particular direction in mind, just a burning desire to get out of there. Her hands were clamped to her buttocks, trying to dislodge the various intruders and also sooth the pain shooting through her rear. Amy streaked through the camp, her one-piece suit covering her butt, but otherwise still bunched about her waist, her boobs flying back and forth with each step.

After a painful visit to the camp infirmary, Amy didn't speak to Janet again the rest of the summer. She did, however, invent a new language, communicated entirely through glares, which she used exclusively to send one-way messages to Janet. And just as the Inuit apocryphally have a thousand words for snow, so did Amy's new language have a thousand ways of saying "I hate every cell of your being and want to visit untold torments upon you." Janet couldn't speak the language, but she was able to pick up on the general meaning.

Amy was roused from her revery by the conductor's announcement that the train was now at her station. She got up with a smile. Whatever humiliation Amy had experienced all those years ago at camp had now been returned, a hundred fold, on her tormentor. Amy had gotten the best kind of revenge: the disproportionate kind.

***

Janet was back at home, wearing black sweatpants and a white hoody. The hoody said "Bride" in sequins across the chest, the pants said the same thing across the seat. Janet paced by the kitchen counter; after the piercing her butt had received from Amy's heels, sitting was a bit too uncomfortable. After a few more moments of hesitation, she took the plunge and dialed her cell phone.

"Hello, Uncle Jack? It's me, Janet! Oh, why thank you. So you haven't heard from anyone else at the wedding yet? Oh, no reason, I'm sorry you couldn't make it. Yes, the ceremony was lovely. I was actually calling, though, because Amy dropped by unexpectedly. I know, I was surprised, too! So unusual for her. Anyhow, she gave me this amazing gift, so very generous of her. And I really wanted to get a thank you note out to her right away, before I left for the honeymoon..." At this Janet glanced at her laptop screen, confirming that her honeymoon had been canceled and the money used to pay for it transferred to the IRS. "... But wouldn't you know it, I'm on the way to the airport right now and don't have my rolodex with me, so I need Amy's address. Mmmm-hmm." Janet leaned over the kitchen counter and wrote out the address that Amy's father was so happy to divulge. "Thanks so much, you're a life saver! Oh, and if Amy calls, tell her Janet says 'have a wonderful day!' It's really important that you use those exact words. Bye!" Janet hung up.

Janet's fiance, Tim, walked in, now changed out of his tuxedo and into a polo shirt and a pair of shorts. "Well, I asked some of my friends, and it sounds like what happened today was mostly legal. We could get an attorney, but I'm not sure who would take our case for what little money we have. And with Amy on the other side..."

"It's okay, babe." Janet put her arms around Tim's neck and gave him a little kiss. "I have my own plans, and we're going to get our satisfaction tonight. You want to come with? I could use a second set of hands."

***

Amy got off the elevator and strode straight to Liz's office.

"Well, I've wrapped up the Janet Brown case!"

Liz looked up from her work. She knew Amy was here to gloat, but she was just going to put on a nice face and ride it out. She had to get used to this job and, right now, Amy had legitimately done it where she hadn't.

"That was fast. How'd you get her to pay up?"

"While her bank account is usually quite empty, she had transient right-of-access to considerable funds, of which I coordinated the liquidation during the brief period between when those funds were allocated and when they were transferred to third parties." Amy threw on the fancy-talk when she bragged, hoping to wow listeners with her brilliance. But they were all lawyers here (Amy's beliefs about Liz notwithstanding), so nobody was impressed.

"So she got some quick cash, and you snatched it from her before she could spend it."

"I suppose. The hardest part was arranging the liquor returns with the state authorities."

"Wait a minute, she's a gardener with the City parks department, she barely makes enough money to pay the rent. Where'd she get enough liquor to make it worthwhile to jump through the hoops?"

"Well, I was doing the paperwork anyway on securing the deposits from the two venues, the caterer, the flowers, the dress, so the liquor just made sense..."

"Now hold on. A dress? Venues? Did... did you seize her WEDDING?" Liz's eyes grew wide with disbelief.

"Of course! Weddings are great for seizures on deadbeat taxpayers. We can't collect a kid's tax debts from their parents, but we can get the money that the parents give the kids to pay for the wedding. We just have to be quick about it."

"So let me get this straight. You seized the bride's DRESS? On her WEDDING DAY?" Liz sat back, her mouth agape.

"She did squirm a bit, but she actually popped out pretty easily after she got done running around."

"You FORCED her out of her wedding dress?"

"Fortunately, nobody came to help her out. I was worried one of the guests or the groom might go all chivalrous and get in the way."

"You STRIPPED her out of her WEDDING DRESS in front of her WEDDING?!"

"And her corset."

Liz was shocked. She just didn't have any words.

Amy smiled, a smile that faded ever-so-slightly as she caught a glimpse of her bra, hanging over Liz's desk like a trophy. And speaking of trophies...

"If you're done with your inane question, it looks like it's just about time for my 2 o'clock appointment. Ta!" Amy spun with a flourish and headed to her office.

Liz seethed. She shoved aside her case files; she had just found a side project to occupy the rest of her afternoon. She had held to an uneasy truce with Amy ever since the projector incident, but this was too much. She would be an agent of karmic retribution against Amy, striking a blow for every bride who'd had a crisis on her wedding day. She got on her computer and opened her telephone log from the Janet Brown case. Then she picked up the phone.

"Hello, Ms. Brown? Or is it Mrs. Brown-Sherman? Oh, still Ms. Brown, I see. I just wanted to apologize for my... associate's behavior today. It was beyond my control, the case was taken from me last week. Oh? Oh. Oh, I see. Well, that's interesting. Could you use some assistance? Absolutely. I just have one request: if you should happen to come into possession of the underpants Amy's wearing today, I would dearly love to have them. Thanks, bye!"

Liz looked up at the bra above her desk. "Looks like you're getting a mate."

***

Penelope Pennington was the picture of well-heeled elegance. She wore a tight-fighting white dress that accentuated all of her ample curves, four-inch high heels that she walked in like they were sneakers, and a big floppy white sun hat. Her eyes were hidden by sunglasses that she took off, quite fetchingly, as she entered the lobby of the building where the IRS offices were located. She batted her eyelashes at the security guard, then sauntered over.

"Pardon me, sir," she looked at the guard significantly with her baby blue eyes, "But I seem to need some direction."

"An-Anything I can do, ma'am!"

"Well, I just got this Summons," she pulled a paper out of her white couture handbag, "and it says I have to be up on the fourteenth floor by two o'clock." The clock above the security desk read 1:58.

"Well, miss, if you don't mind running quickly through security..."

"But I don't think I'll have time!" she pouted, sticking out her lips and trembling them slightly, "I sure don't want to be late, and you can see I'm no danger."

"I, uh, I can see that. I guess just this once..."

"Oh! And you don't mind if I take my little Biscuit with me, do you?" She changed position and, for the first time, the guard noticed a little black Scottish Terrier poking out of a second bag.

"N-n-no ma'am, that'll be fine."

"Thank you SOOO much. I'm sure I'll find SOME way to repay you later..." she raised an eyebrow suggestively.

She smiled as she walked to the elevator. It felt good to flirt openly again, and she was pleased to find that a few months of marriage had not dulled her many charms. She stepped onto the elevator. Whoever this bitch Amy was, she had no idea whom she was up against.

***

Amy waited in a small, windowless conference room for the receptionist to show the Widow Pennington in. This was the other case she'd picked up from Liz. On this one, Liz had just been sloppy. She'd seen the words "widow" and "tragic accident" and had folded like the Flash at an origami competition. Liz hadn't even done the research to know that the luscious Ms. Pennington was a youthful 25 to her late husband's 95, that the marriage had lasted 6 months, and that with Mr. Pennington's death she had inherited a vast fortune. She had also inherited substantial estate tax liabilities. Old Man Pennington used to say that he didn't get rich by writing a lot of checks, and that went double for checks to Uncle Sam. Penelope had won the booby prize in the rich first husband game; his liabilities were as numerous as his assets. But Penelope planned to put up the fight of her life to hold on to that money, right up until Liz had unilaterally laid down arms. Amy decided to show the rich bimbo who was in charge, and she started it off with a summons.

Penelope sashayed into the room, closing the door behind her. She held out her hand to Amy, as though expecting Amy to kiss it, like Penelope were royalty. Amy ignored the hand.

"Penelope Pennington?"

"Why, yes I am."

"Haven't changed your name back to..." Amy shuffled her papers for show, but knew the answer already without looking, "McGillicuddy yet?"

"Why, you insult the memory of my late husband! I intend to carry on his name, and his legacy, until my dying breath!" Penelope hoped that Amy caught the double meaning she had layered into that sentence.

Amy didn't care. "And you're not married at present?"

"Why of COURSE not! My husband is DEAD!"

"I know, I just thought you might have remarried by now. If acquiring husbands were my job, I think I'd try a little harder at it."

"WELL! I don't have to STAND for this!" Penelope began turning to leave.

"Ms. Pennington, you don't have to stand, but you do have to stay. You are here pursuant to a legally enforceable summons. If you leave, I can report your failure to the Court and possibly have you held in contempt. I mean, held officially in contempt, not just held in all the amateur contempt that gets directed your way."

Penelope scowled. Amy suddenly adopted her best approximation of a friendly smile.

"Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot. Have a seat." She gestured to the chair opposite her. Penelope sniffed, then gingerly took her seat. Biscuit let out a bark.

"Oh, you have a little doggy! How wonderful."

Penelope relaxed a bit. "Why yes! He's my little biscuit, and he's just the most special guy in the whole world!"

"Aren't dogs wonderful? But anyhow, where were we.... Oh dear, I seem to have lost my train of thought. Give me a moment to regain it..."

Penelope smiled. It seemed she'd somehow managed to find one ditzier than the last one. This would be the easiest thing she had done all day.

"Well, while I'm thinking about it, how was your trip in? Take the train?"

"Oh, of course not. I never take public transportation. My chauffeur took me here in the Bentley."

"Really? Wow, that must have been tough parking here, what with all the traffic around."

"You would honestly be surprised how traffic seems to just move out of the way around a fine automobile. The driver managed to find a spot right out front."

"Gosh, that's swell!" Amy had adopted Liz's mannerisms for this little adventure; they did seem to be useful for putting a taxpayer off her guard. "What color do you paint a car like that?"

"Black, naturally. You simply cannot paint it any other color."

"Really? I might have tried hot pink myself."

Penelope grew suspicious. The woman sitting before her had blue eyes, brown hair in a tight, professional ponytail, and a fitted single-breasted black skirt suit, tasteful white blouse, and black pumps and stockings. She wasn't as expensively put together as Penelope, but the girl clearly had refined taste. Hot pink did not, to say the least, seem to be her color.

Amy sensed that she had gone too far with that last one, so she tried to change the subject. "So you drove in all the way from the Hamptons?"

"Yes, it was quite a trip."

"You must have quite a staff out there."

"Oh, I'm afraid you'd be surprised. My husband really didn't leave me all that much money, so I've had to let all of the staff go. Except, of course, the driver. Hopefully once this is all resolved I'll find some way to restore the manor to its former glory." This part was true. The servants had been let go because she had transferred as many of her liquid assets as she could to off-shore bank accounts. Without lots of cash around, servants couldn't be paid. But once the IRS was off her back, she could bring the money back on-shore.

"I'm sure you will at that. And, just to confirm, no little kids or anything?"

"Of course not. Dear Henry wanted a family, but I'm afraid there... there just wasn't the time." Penelope made a show of choking back tears.

"Yes, quite tragic. So, nobody's at home at the moment?"

Penelope crooked an eyebrow. "No."

"Beautiful. I think I can resolve all of your problems right now, with a phone call. Just give me a minute."

Amy turned aside and whipped out a cell phone. Penelope glanced around the room looking as innocent as she could, hoping that her ruse would hold out and this whole thing could be resolved today.

Amy spoke in hushed tones into the cell. "Hello, Margey? Yeah, it's Amy. Right by the building. Black." Amy looked at Penelope, who was giving her a quizzical look. Amy turned away and lowered her voice. "A Bentley. And call up Hoffstad in Hempstead, tell him we're green."

Amy hung up her phone and turned back to Penelope with a smile. Except this time it was her usual, viciously triumphant smile, not the bubbly, ditzy, friendly smile she'd been showing Penelope heretofore. Penelope beamed, expecting to be told, once again, that she had won and the IRS was calling off their dogs.

"I believe we're all done here."

Penelope jerked upright. "What?"

"I've gotten everything out of you that I needed, so you are hereby dismissed from your summons. You may leave."

"Wait a minute," Penelope's pretty face turned an angry shade of red, "You made be drive three hours out here with a threat of throwing me in jail if I didn't, just so you could exchange five minutes of pleasantries and send me on my way?! Does my time mean nothing to you?"

"Oh, they weren't pleasantries. Just identifying information. I just wanted to keep you here while a Revenue Agent seized your car."