Jessica's Change Management Ch. 27

Oh wow! Just when I felt my mood drifting towards a dramatic outburst, the Latino manager somewhat praised my qualities as a bimbotainer, which totally cheered me up. We were still on the right path here. Everything was running smoothly so far.

"What is your assessment, Mr. Ward, if I may ask?" Ortega suddenly changed the topic. "Do you have the sense that we achieved our goal? Would you say Missy is aptly dumbed down to obey without objection?"

Oh Lordy! This wasn't a good development. We were veering off course! We couldn't lose sight of the big picture here! Unfortunately, nobody was asking me. Instead, the smug exec continued chatting with Justin as if I wasn't present at all.

"I have to say, when I offered Mr. Rodriguez an internship, the goal was to squeeze Miss Addams out of the consulting firm. But I had my doubts." The smug Latino continued. "Particularly, when that setback happened with Mr. Rodriguez feeling pangs of conscience and abandoning my plan."

"I have to admit, I didn't see it in you then, Mr. Ward. Yet, you did excellent work." He somewhat praised my ex-intern. "I have to say, I am sorry that I didn't back the right horse from the beginning."

"So, would you say she is the dummy boob we envisioned?" Ortega asked bluntly. "Would you say, she is committed to performing any and all acts for my guests' amusement without interfering in my affairs?"

Sweet jeezus! My archrival basically confirmed more than I had expected. All along, he had played a long con! He had planned to tarnish my reputation and sweep me outta the way for quite some time. Making matters worse, he had done all of it for the simple reason of expanding his deceptive business practices and illegal dealings. Evidently, this long-term con had started way before the frat boy party. Apparently, D-Rod hadn't been a pool boy by accident. Obviously, our encounter in my home hadn't been a coincidence.

STUNNER! SHOCKER!

Oh my gawd! This was news to me. No way, I had expected Ortega's manipulations to reach such worrying levels. No way, I had expected D-Rod and LGZ to be part of his evil scheming from the beginning. It left me totally flabbergasted! It boggled my mind to the max!

Truth be told, it totally matched my former interns' progression and made Justin's character development appear in a totally new light. The more he had evolved his doucheyness, the more D-Rod had grown a conscience. While Sir Da-Rod had become a mature man, Justy had turned into the next entitled frat boy. What a contrast! The alpha male who knew how to set boundaries versus the demanding douche who would take no responsibilities. Anyhow, I had to work with what I got, right? At the moment, that was the spoilt macho. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than an indecisive placeholder, wasn't it?

In any case, I was strung to the breaking point while I waited for Justin's reaction. Why? Cause everything hinged on the slimeball's reaction. Unfortunately, he had a deep connection with Ortega. After all, the Latin manager had hired him. He had promoted him after Matt's dismissal, and he had just praised him for his share in my bimbofication. Hard luck! Duh!

Would he remain committed to our plan or would he yield to the boss? Would he... or wouldn't he? Maybe... or maybe not! Dang it! I just couldn't tell.

"She's a hard nut to crack, that much's for sure." Justin responded kinda hesitantly. "She's always been career-driven with outstanding dedication, hasn't she? That sort of motivation 'n commitment's hard to redirect."

Oh jeez! What a vague answer! What a whishy-washy drivel! It didn't really say anything!

So, would he... or wouldn't he? Probably... or probably not! Damn it! I still couldn't tell.

"In any case, I feel quite certain that Missy's fully committed to becoming a braindead bimbo barbie. I'd say she's mostly motivated by attention nowadays." He added. "I mean, look at those jugganauts. Have you ever seen anything more blatantly overdone?"

Definitely, maybe!

"It's safe to say, dollie's still as career-driven as ever, tho she's redirected her career goals." The boobmeister argued. "If you want me to bet, I'd say we'll see her performing in some low-rent porno sooner than later."

He would!

Oh yay! Oh yay, yay, yay! Justin had stayed strong! He had stuck to our arrangement! What a relief! What a milestone! Obviously, joining the fraternity was his top priority. Apparently, he really wanted the boobs bowl to happen.

Still, everything he had said sounded demeaning to the max! Super degrading! Super humiliating! All the same, it was about right. Harsh but correct! Fair and square! I had always been highly motivated and fully commitment. That hadn't changed. Only, my focus had shifted. Instead of a long-winded, labor-intensive career in the business world, I was dedicated to short-term satisfaction. It was true! I was an attention whore and jizz junkie now, and I totally loved it.

"Indeed, the ditzy doll's not exactly subtle about her preferences, such as low-class trash-chic." Ortega agreed. "I have to say, it is quite surprising how she finds fulfillment in embodying every stereotype she once despised."

Mood swing!

Hello?!? I was standing right here! I was hearing every word they spoke! If the pompous bastard wanted to know something about my motivations, he could simply ask! Instead, the blatant disregard and derogatory assessment were totally provoking. As a result, my gushy glee subsided while the drama diva emerged.

Like it mattered! Who would ask a dumb doll for advice on important issues, right? Oh gosh! The way, they openly discussed my visible bimbofication was so super hypocritical. The way, they mused about my dumbing-down was so super degrading! Especially, as it was clear that I had exceeded any and all expectations. Grrr!

"If I may ask, what was a bigger surprise for you, Mr. Ward?" My archrival continued flogging that horse to death. "The bimbo ditz caring more about fashion than facts or spending heaps of money to get such a stupendous bust?"

Oh my god! What a rare joviality from Mr. Crankypants. The scarcity made it hit that much harder. It definitely pushed my emotional pendulum to the drama side, getting me close to throwing a hissy fit. Umph!

"Hehehe! Nice generic term for a generic look!" Justin played along, exchanging quips. "Tho, I prefer silly sillies. Hehehe!"

Sweet jeezus! What a word ping-pong! What a defamation and degradation! It was totally winding me up and ticking me off, to the point that I feared steam to come outta my nostrils and rise from my moretta mask.

"Missy really sounds like she's trying to epitomize every dumb blonde joke ever, I give you that." The slimeball stressed my stupidity. "She's truly bleached to the bone."

Oh see? Justin had carefully chosen his words, hadn't he? Or maybe, I was the only one who had heard the implicit meaning. Whatever! To me, it made a difference if I sounded like I was trying to be a dumb blonde or if I really acted like I had internalized the part. By contrast, it didn't make a difference to the smug exec. In the end, he was way too self-absorbed to mind those negligible details anyways.

"Fine! What you say sounds logical, I have to admit." The Latino manager concluded. "If Miss Bimbo is in fact aspiring a new career, we might be able to help her prepare for it, I suppose."

"You see, dolly!" He ultimately addressed me putting an arm around my shoulder in a paternal gesture. "We prepared all these lovely carnival stalls for my noble guests. Now, we could use a court jester to reduce the idle time."

"You ever heard of Jane Foole, per chance?" Ortega asked. "She was the only female jester at the English court, indeed. I have to say, you might make a good Jessie Foole, don't you agree?"

Oh Lordy! Jessie Foole? Seriously?!? It was obvious that the smug exec didn't see me as a threat to thwart his illegal activities any longer. He saw a dolled-up, cosmetically enhanced bimbo and assumed the rest. More so, he felt ultra secure in his status and position, so much so that he let me stay around like his court jester, or more like his court bimbo.

Mood swing!

Even though the pompous bastard continued treating me in the most belittling way ever, I had just reached another milestone. Oh yay! My plan was working, which totally cheered me up. As long as I acted in conformance with Ortega's expectations, it gave me the chance to stay under his radar. If I wasn't a threat, the snobby boss didn't have to be on his guard, did he?

OK! Let's reiterate. First step? Win over Justin as an ally. Check! Second step? Gain access to the matinée. Check and check! Third step? Put my plan into motion. Not so fast...

Ortega might have let me attend the matinée, but he wasn't about to make it easy for me. Quite the opposite!

"Certainly, I have to hold up the high standards around here." He told me in his trademark affected way.

"I see, Miss Bimbo, you're wearing the same outfit as yesterday. I have to say, however, that it still looks as trashy as may be. I can't let you enter wearing those rags, I'm afraid."

Oh my god! This couldn't be true! He was still hating on my cute outfit. With every word, he let me know that he considered me nothing but a dumb doll that couldn't even pick her own outfits. Dang!

"Lucky you! I'm always prepared if I may praise myself. For this reason, I had several outfits arranged for this event." He enlightened me. "You know the procedure, ditzy doll. You may go and change in the pantry, indeed. If I like what I see, I might let you in to my carnival."

Oh my gosh! The smug exec wasn't letting me show off my flashy outfit for the second time in a row. This was super frustrating! This was super unfair! All the same, it was the perfect way for the Latino to demonstrate his control. After all, I had to play along if I wanted or not. Damn it!

Mood swing!

The fact that I was outta options totally ruffled my feathers. No matter how much I planned and schemed, Ortega still managed to outmaneuver me. That realization totally dampened my cheeriness and triggered my outrage. As a consequence, I stomped my foot before turning around to head to the pantry. However, neither Ortega nor Justin cared much for my antics, so they basically fell on deaf ears.

Once again, I found my new outfit draped over a chair in the corner of the pantry. At least, there was no waiting staff hustling and bustling around me this time. Phew! Still reluctant, I put on the sequined corset which sported a black and white checkered front panel with pink sides and pink frills as neckline. It got complimented by a tiered miniskirt with the same checkered design and pink frills as hemline. Completing the outfit was a pair of wetlook stockings with the right one in pink and the left one in black.

Sweet jeezus! Ortega was a total hypocrite! Why? Cause that outfit wasn't elegant in any way. Especially, the pink lace-up ankle boots with 2.5 inches platform and 6.0 inches heels were anything but classy. Making matters worse, the skirt featured a pink sequined triangular peplum with bells at the end. The worst part, however, was the pink collar with a bell in the front. OMG! What had the pompous snob said about Jessie Foole? In this uniform, I totally looked like Miss Court Jester. Gulp!

Whatever! It was what it was, right? Even though I continued huffing and puffing into my darn mask, I returned to the patio where Ortega and Justin were waiting. With every step, I started hating the clown's costume with more passion. Why? Cause the bells were ringing louder than the clicking of my heels. Dang it! By contrast, the smug exec loved my outfit. Damn it!

Anyway, I was arriving at the perfect moment 'cause the matinée was just about picking up speed with the special guests beginning to mingle. Maybe, I could still pick up my matchmaking mission. After all, Ortega let me walk around the garden and check out the carnival stalls on my own. This was my chance to socialize on my own.

Mood swing!

The prospect of resuming my mission totally brightened me up, so much so that it got me all cheerful again. Just like that, the affront of reclothing me was quickly forgotten 'cause side issue. Duh! Slight problem, though? I couldn't really show my bouncy breeziness to the guests 'cause moretta mask. No matter what, this hadn't stopped me before and it wouldn't stop me now. Yay!

First, though, I got a chance to check out my competition, as in the luscious Latina who was serving drinks already. Same as me, she had changed her clothes. Now, she totally looked like Miss Matador 'cause she sported a black and red bull fighter costume. It comprised a black leather bustier with typical gold toreador embroidery on the edges and tight black leather pants with the same embroidery on the sides. The leather style was complimented by a dark red sash around her hips and a dark red velvet bolero jacket. Only, the red platform high heels didn't really fit the matador style.

Oh boy! She was all kink and leather whereas I was all pink and bells. It was Miss Matador versus Miss Court Bimbo! What a contrast! What a dichotomy! The only similarity? We were both wearing the dreaded moretta mask. Gulp!

As soon as I reached the bell tent, however, Ortega stepped back up to me. Even if he was getting less attentive, he was still a control freak. That was why he grabbed my arm and assumed the dominant role. He wouldn't leave my side when I got close to his high society guests. Darn it!

Holy moly! Just like that, my archrival squashed my networking plan. Holy shoot! It would have been way too easy otherwise. Holy fudge! I had to come up with a backup plan now. Uh-oh!

"You see, these are the winners of our networking game." Ortega informed me when we entered the tent. "Indeed, they are here to enjoy the special prize they have won."

Oh really? That sounded kinda rigged, especially considering that all his consulting buddies were part of the winners. Whatever! It shouldn't be much of a surprise, what with my old rival's penchant to play outside the rules, right?

"My oh my! You can drape them any way you want. Lace 'n lingerie 'n all. In the end, you went dirt cheap with these trashy whores." Lambert told his boss when he mustered me.

"Gotta agree! Seen better 'n prettier in the strip club round the corner." Clark affirmed. "Look at all that plastic 'n ink. I'm old school. All natural all day long."

Oh jeez! What a gut punch. What a devaluation! Whatever! The senior consultants got that one backwards. The Latina's tattoos and my bimbofications were total improvements, as in beautifications and glorifications and titivations. But what did you expect? They were old, grumpy boomers who wouldn't know a treasure chest if it sat on their lap. Duh!

"Who gives a fuck? The trashier, the filthier. Just the way I like it. Hehehe!" Damon objected, sorta.

See? The youngsters knew a treasure when they saw it. The 'funbag boys' really turned out to be a girl's best friend. Yay! However, I didn't really get a chance to say a proper thank you 'cause Ortega didn't let me go, even after finishing my welcome round. Nay!

Mood swing!

Holy shoot! This wasn't going as expected. This was totally throwing a wrench in my plans. The round around the stalls had given me a chance to gain an overview, but I hadn't found the right inspiration yet. Worse, the smug exec constantly kept tabs on me, which made it that much harder to get inspired. Worst of all, the Latino started gathering his special guests as he obviously had a big announcement to make. Uh-oh! All of it caused my emotions to flare up. It wasn't just annoying but totally overbearing. After all, I was a grown woman and brilliant bimbo. I so didn't need a chaperon! Duh!

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Ortega seized the conversation. "Let me present to you the carnival's hidden, decadent history."

"May I say, here we have a carnival experience you have never seen before, and you will never forget again. I am certain to guarantee you that." He showed off the different stalls, beaming with pride.

"Of course, I don't want to put any of my highly esteemed guests at risk of indiscretion. Therefore, we have our lovely pinups present." My old rival proved his smugness more than ever. "Thus, I am pleased to announce, that they are here to test the games for us."

"In order to increase your amusement, our two lovely pinups are going to have a cum-petition for the grand opening, indeed." He explained with grandeur. "I have to say, as grand prize, the pinup winning the carnival game might earn double the salary. The also-ran, on the other hand, needs to leave without compensation, I'm afraid. Or shall I say, she only gets the shaft. Hehehe!"

Oh no! Had I heard correctly? Oh shoot! I had understood perfectly!

This couldn't be happening! Not again! Not another cum-petition! After all, I hadn't exactly had the bestest track record with these kinds of cunt-tests, remember? How the heck had this happened? How the heck had Ortega managed to pull this off? Once again, the Latino was playing chess while I was playing checkers. Dang it!

Holy shoot! The danger of getting kicked outta the matinée so soon was the most serious. After all, it didn't give me any kinda chance to set a plan into motion. Holy fudge! The cash was another valid argument. In fact, LGZ had given D-Rod a budget for the cocktail party with the stipulation that I was supposed to earn the surplus funds. Obviously, that deal was outta the window. Instead, the smug exec was keeping the funds and making me compete for a server salary which was a total joke considering my current financial difficulties. Darn it!

Whatever my arrangement with Perez, one thing was as certain as Dollars to donuts. As long as my archrival was in bed with LGZ, I would never get a fair deal. He would always exploit me and outmaneuver me. He would always collude with the other dudes and go behind my back. Damn it!

There was only one way out! I had to end this, and it had to happen today! No way around it!

"Now, may I introduce to you, our first carnival game." Ortega continued in his delusion of grandeur. "You might recognize it, but our version has a nice little twist."

"If I may explain, our lovely pinups have to hit the toys, which appear at random, indeed." The smug exec was already way ahead of me. "Self-evidently, they have to use 'leurs chattes' for it."

Leurs... what? Oh, so obvi! Oh, so silly! Ortega was pointing at our crotches, so he was talking about our pussies. Quelle surprise... not!

"The pinup who hits all the toys first gains the victory, or may I say garners double the salary." He finished his introduction to the rules. "The also-ran gets sent to the mob, I'm afraid."

Oh jeez! Had I heard correctly? Oh fudge! I had understood perfectly. Again!

There was a reason why he had used the word mob 'cause 'Mobsterz'. Duh! There must have been some secret collusion going on between Perez and Ortega, kinda like a gentlemen's agreement. It was obvious that he was more important to LGZ than I could ever be, what with their restaurant franchise and expansion plans and all. That was why he was getting away with stealing the broker role from me. That was why he was working on sending me to the strip club. Oh jeez! I couldn't have been more outraged about the smug exec's escalating insolence.

So, what did it all mean in the end? Easy! If I lost this carnival cum-petition against the lascivious Latina, Perez would have no more reason to keep me as the gang's most valuable puta. If I were hustling at the strip club on the poor side of town, Ortega would have finally succeeded in sweeping me outta the way, so I couldn't do any more harm to him or his grand plans.

Sweet jeezus! None of that could ever happen! The sheer prospect got me ultra inflamed with outrage. In response, I clenched my fists while my wrath boiled over. Good thing, I was wearing the moretta mask, 'cause I might have yelled out my revolt otherwise.