Undercover Freaks Vol. 01: Size Queen

I turned into an aisle drawn by the pulsing electronica only to find a quartet of women sporting the biggest fake breasts I'd ever seen in my life. Three of the four were tragically blonde with big, 80's hair to go along with orangish, sun baked skin tones born of the tanning bed. These things were positively freakish to look at as multiple cameras went off in their faces. One of the women reminded me of Sybil Danning with these vintage terminator type shades protecting her eyes from the flashes.

There were two rows of people filming these women almost in firing squad formation. There was literally two rows of guys with the front, taking a knee.

The fourth woman of the quartet was some Korean woman who looked a few years older than my grandmother sporting the second biggest set of basketball sized boobs. Some cheesy looking guy and his girlfriend slipped her a few bills before the woman slid behind her back cupping those melons.

I recognized this model remembering her from an vintage episode of Married with Children. I remember being smitten enough to look her up online finding a series of dull, lifeless porn that turned me off more than anything. The expression on the woman fondling her was decidedly glib as she jiggled those boulders.

I turned away after a few moments to see a guy who was the spitting image of Drew Carey with one of those large digital cameras used to shoot porn, stalking towards this thick brunette in school girl lingerie. There was this menacing look on his face like he wanted to shank someone as he closed the distance while she conversed with a rail thin woman in bondage gear. I almost cried out as he grabbed the hem of her plaid, micro-mini skirt yanking it up roughly. His other hand shoved the camera under the skirt in stabbing fashion as I expected security to grab this creep.

"Oh, hey Chris." She responded casually half giggling while a few onlookers were also jarred by this guy's criminal behavior.

Chris was handling that digital camera like a fucking proton pack. His slouchy posture reminded me of someone filling their gas tank before he stalked off into the crowd, breathing hard. Both women watched continuing their conversation. Bondage girl was handing out flyers.

Thirty minutes later I'd drifted up enough aisles of product and autograph signings that my head was starting to spin. The event was completely sponsored with food courts in each corner of the convention floor. I managed to find a clean seat after scoring two large, overpriced slices of pizza and a cola.

There was an overhead digital display inviting people to the strip club in the center of the floor. I noticed a crowd weighing my options as my gaze drifted over finding a crowded booth obscured by droves of convention goers. Numerous flashes were going off from that location piquing my interest.

"Hey Michaela; uhm can I get a look for the camera?" Some redheaded geek looked visibly rattled standing on the opposite of the railing bordering the court. The olive colored model dressed in a leather bikini and chaps, was having a bite with some unsavory looking friends.

"Sure kid." There was a bit of Deja vu as she popped out a pair of saggy looking, pierced tits that made me wretch a little.

"Uhm, I mean I wanted a shot of that fat ass of yours, Michaela." The ginger nerd wasn't impressed, either. The two bikers sitting with her stood up full of menace, both ripped and tall enough to play for the NBA. That geek disappeared so fast, it was like he teleported as the bikers resumed their seats, laughing.

"I'd love to see April with that fucking guy for a week!" The porn starlet commented before the table burst into uproarious laughter.

It felt odd not knowing what they were referring to as I opted to join the convention going into the crowd. The crowd at the table I'd been watching from the court had increased in density piquing my curiosity further. There were droves of boosters, young adult volunteers handing out cheap merch in plastic bags as I got closer to the disturbance. I took a bag with mixed feeling about it because it made me feel like one of the rank and file, but I thought to forward some of the stuff to Gerald when he got out of marital jail.

"Whoa." I dipped into my swag bag finding a glossy 5-by-7 inch depicting my friend's current obsession.

It was a simple glossy of C-List Chrystal in a reclining buddha pose facing away from the viewer with her best "asset" on display. The pronounced curve of her hip was astounding, but her heart shaped derriere stole the show. I suspected her ouster from that reality show likely had a lot to do with some female executive's jealousy. There was also a cheap DVD inside the bag from the same company containing fifty five seconds of her sex tape that was definitely getting a view once I got home.

"OH SHIT, CHECK THAT OUT!!" Some people ran by accidentally shoving me into a table stacked high with bargain bin porn. The bespectacled could've cared less as I noticed the jacket over his lap hiding a female associate's hand. I just nodded an apology turning towards the source of the disturbance.

I jockeyed for position between the convention goers surging forward as security appeared visibly daunted by the sheer numbers. I almost dropped my plastic bag before glancing up finding a giant version of the glossy photo of C-List Chrystal staring me in the face. People were snapping photos of it in feverish adulation as I glanced to my right finding the real McCoy.

"Fuck me."

The ass looked bigger in person, positively enormous in real 3D reality leaving me staggered. Those jean printed booty shorts had been completely swallowed up by the dueling halves of her cheeks which informed a perfect heart collectively.

Understandably C-List Chrystal was the source of the commotion as I managed to take in the whole picture realizing she was simply kneeling on her leather, swivel chair with her elbows on the top. She was facing away talking on her phone caring little about the sea of cameras focused on her huge derriere. There was no doubt she knew what she was working with, from the pronounced arch in her back.

"IN OR OUT!!"

"Huh?"

"AUTOGRAPHS, IN OR OUT!!" A security guard was glaring at me, irritated by the deluge of people. A double line had somehow formed around me while I was staring at a physical specimen built for sex. Several boosters were setting up stanchions, roping the area off leading towards that huge ass less than ten feet away.

"Uhm, sure." I wasn't about to miss this opportunity to get a real good look at that ass, taking a little video with my phone for Gerald. He would've died for this opportunity as the line moved briskly. C-List Chrystal was tapped by a handler appearing to scoff as she was directed to face her adoring fans.

Entitlement was radiating from her person as she was nearly forced down onto the seat to sign the paper envelopes containing the teaser for her sex tape. There was this big, oversized plastic jar on the table at her immediate right stuffed to the gills with cash. As I got closer, I noticed a matching jar on her opposite side. Most of the fans in front of me were divvying up cash, a few in groups pooling their resources as we edged closer to the star attraction.

"Hey, is this thing uh; are we supposed to pay for this?" I asked a couple behind me.

"We didn't see a sign; I think it's uh, polite to tip the girls." They replied.

"But she's a celebrity, right?"

They didn't answer, more interested in each other than the stranger invading their conversation. I found myself getting nervous as I got closer noticing C-List Chrystal didn't even make eye contact with her adoring public. If I had to call it, the whole affair was annoying to her on some level.

"Uhm, can I get a shot of your butt, ma'am; a shot for the camera?" The redheaded guy I noticed earlier was a few people ahead, still trying to get his preferred shot. C-List Chrystal rolled her noticeably blue eyes, biting her lower lip as her brow furrowed.

"Hundred dollars!!"

"Eh?"

"HUNDRED DOLLARS!!" She reiterated louder as the kid scratched his head. Some models at an adjacent table were glaring in her direction cementing my opinion of her as a diva of the highest order.

"Got fifty."

"What?"

"Fifty-uhm, dollars?" He replied meekly. C-List Chrystal stared at him with this piercing glare for a few seconds before motioning towards the tip jar. He looked embarrassed stuffing the wad of bills into her tip jar as she began to get up from her chair. Everybody was waiting for her to turn around, cameras ready when she abruptly sat down again.

"Hey, I didn't get my shot."

"So what." She replied coolly, taking the next fan's DVD signing it sloppily with a sharpie.

The ginger kid stood there processing the con as she signed more autographs and DVD covers. A booster tapped him on the shoulder motioning for him to clear the aisle while security hovered nearby. I thought it was fucked up watching the dejected pervert slink off.

"WHERE-IS IT, SLICK?!!" I hadn't realized that I was standing in front of her, due to watching the guy she conned. I handed her the DVD noticing I didn't rate eye contact, either.

"Would you rather be in Paris?" I asked with a half-smile, catching her attention. C-List Chrystal stopped writing, planting her palms flat on the table looking up at me with narrowed eyes.

"Yeah." She surprised me with a verbal answer before picking up my DVD in both hands, snapping it in two.

The broken disc hit me in the chest as she stood up quickly, the motion causing the chair to slide backward. There was a warm up jacket hanging on the back of the chair, which she quickly covered up with, staring at her feet. C-List Chrystal snatched up a handbag from under the table slinging it as multiple boosters and handlers tried to talk her out of leaving. She elbowed one guy as she stalked off, flustered.

"HEY THANKS MAN; WE WANTED AN AUTOGRAPH!!" Some morbidly obese man mountain yelled five people behind me. I didn't know what to do as multiple jeers and boos were directed my way. I decided discretion was the better part of valor dipping under the neon rope to find other entertainment. Someone tugged at me arm as I turned into the aisle.

"Excuse you?!!" I was in no mood for some pissed off fan boy.

"Oh?" I found one of the boosters from C-List Chrystal's booth standing in front of me. This was some Asian woman with librarian style, cat eyed glasses on her narrow face.

"What did you say to her?"

"Look, I'm really sorry about that; I didn't mean to offend her." I lied.

"What did you say?" I noticed she had a sling strap going across her chest which seemed to be attached to what looked like a short, bamboo staff. It was curious as she waited for my answer.

"I just asked if she would rather be in Paris." A wry smile formed on her lips.

"Awesome; for your troubles." She produced three DVD'S and a packet which she expeditiously dropped into my swag bag.

"Eh, tell her I'm really sorry about that, please?" I was sincere this time.

"Why would I do that?" Before I could inquire further, the booster drew back getting lost in the crowd. I noticed that staff on her back wondering if it were some sort of item purchased on the convention floor.

She'd placed another copy of the DVD in my bag along with two copies of the blue ray of C-List Chrystal's sex tape. Gerald would be happy once I figured out how to get it past his wife. I checked the packet opening it to find two hundred and fifty bucks in loose cash. Figuring it was an accident, I went back towards the tables but couldn't find the girl. One of the tip jars was missing as the boosters continued their frenzied work. A simple card on the table denoted C-List Chrystal's abrupt break from the event.

"Well, looks like I'm rich." I pocketed my sudden fortune, continuing up the aisle to the strip club in the center of the convention.

This seemed to be the unofficial epicenter of the convention floor surrounded by a significant crowd of visitors. It was a really nice setup with four dancers commanding the stage being filmed and applauded while some tossed handfuls of cash on the stage. There was some sort of digital marquee ringing the stage advertising the Vegas location of the actual venue.

I knew there was no way I'd ever visit because I had my limits when it came to giving away money. Four different clubs were represented as I found it daunting ducking and dodging the amateur cameramen trying to get a look at the stage.

"Uhm, excuse me." I tried to nudge closer to the stage, but another rather portly guy slid into my preferred spot.

"Thanks bro; that's special." I was salty having had enough of the bullshit. I started walking away as the music changed. There was a visible surge of convention goers making my think C-List Chrystal had returned taking the stage, but I was mistaken.

A new dancer had taken center stage flanked on all sides strategically by the women already performing. The haunting strains of Venus As A Boy filled the area as the new woman took her place dead center, her body hidden by a cloak. I recognized this version of the song done by an artist named Zoey, but I was magnetically drawn back to the stage as this woman began slowly circling the pole, still covered while everyone watched mesmerized. This woman was exotic, probably Chinese at best guess with beautiful ethnic features framed by long dark, tresses as the music stopped abruptly.

The sudden halt of music was jarring for a few second before Money by Cardi B blasted from the speakers loud as fuck, bass boosted. The new model's cloak dropped to the stage floor as her thin fingers closed sensually around the stripper pole.

"OH MY FAAWKING GAAAWWDDD!!" C-List Chrystal was a ghost in the wind.

This Asian woman matched her in every way physically with a bit more in the hips and ass causing an immediate ruckus as the crowd pushed into the negative space around the stage despite droves of security trying to control the situation. I was halfway down an adjacent aisle as guys began rushing by with cameras trained on the stage.

I was caught up in the wake also rushing back to the stage as this anomaly twerking and danced wildly, expertly climbing the pole to it apex before swinging down to the floor without a hitch. She landed, thick shapely gams apart, bent ninety degrees at the waist with a pronounced clap to her enormous cheeks that was drowned out by the music.

"IS THIS FOR REAL; OOOOHHH SHIT!!" Some geek looked like he was about to have a seizure after finding out the waifu of his dreams had been made flesh incarnate.

My own hands were shaking as she did a spin on the pole a foot from the stage floor while the other dancers did their best to impress but failed. One plastic Barbie was just standing there looking dejected. I did the best I could holding my camera with both trembling hands with this phenom eight feet out in front of me on all fours twerking to her heart's content. Those cheek claps were thunderous, slapping together in circular fashion with a black thong covering her virtue. It was the only article of clothing on her body other than the black heels on her feet.

"WHO IS THIS?!! WHAT IS THIS?!! WHAT-THE-FUCK, MAAAANNN?!!" Suddenly I found myself in similar ethnic company as brothers popped up in droves, still coming. Things were getting as this woman vertically straddled that stripper pole looking directly in our direction, sensually humping, and rubbing her crotch on it. This caused an explosion of joyous applause and excited catcalls.

"HEY, LET ME TAKE A LOOK; I'M MULTILINGUAL!!" Some freckled geek's head appeared between two brothers who looked as big as linebackers.

"WHAT NIGGA?!!"

"I-CAN- TELL YOU HER NAME!!" This guy struggled between the two large men as his own digital camera appeared. The brothers weren't having it grabbing both of his limbs as his glasses nearly fell off his face.

"HEY FELLAS, JUST LET ME SEE HER NAME; OH, IT'S CHINESE ACTUALLY!!" This skinny geek proved quite athletic, deftly slipping out of their grasp righting the glasses at the end of his nose.

"IT SAYS-IT'S UH, A NAME!! I-IT SAYS MEI?!!" Before he could say anything else, he was snatched out of the way disappearing into the crowd involuntarily as more people surged forward. The music stopped abruptly again, but Mei continued making imaginary love to her pole.

"What in the blue hell?" Another girl appeared on stage completed covered up with a hooded cloak looking like the personification of cloaked death. A thumping Asian language rendition of Rick Ross's Hustlin blasted from the speakers. Mei whipped the cloak away tossing it into the roiling audience.

There were two of them.

Identical twins, both of them and both wearing black thongs, spiked heels, and nothing else. This changed the game in explosive fashion as the crowd rushed the stage ending the show instantly. It was epic as several guys and a few girls clamored in defining fashion climbing onto the edge of the stage. An army of yellow jackets appeared alternately shoving people from the stage while spiriting the dancers away. It was utter chaos for the next fifteen minutes as I managed to extricate myself to one of the partially abandoned food courts.

"Shit, what did they expect?" I watched as a large group of police officers appeared to assist with restoring order while the convention continued unabated. I filmed the affair for a few seconds before catching the changed digital marquee. The Asian letters I initially thought were Japanese were now altered with the addition of a large number 2.

"Mei 2?" I reasoned before buying an overpriced cola. The name didn't make sense to me as I glanced around finding myself staring at the back aisle of the convention. I decided to ease back into things by taking the road less traveled.

I walked the back aisle with my soda taking in tables full of cheap porn that no one likely wanted when I was bumped from the back nearly dropping my soda. Several men in suits, at least six of them rushed by without a word of apology. I gathered myself looking ahead of them finding some people grouped together facing one of the exits leading off the convention floor to the parking lot outside.

"What's going on now?"

I cautiously followed behind the ruckus as more people flowed out of the adjacent aisles until the suits began crowd control in tandem with an already taxed security team. The closer I got, the more my curiosity was piqued as people were clumsily herded into other aisles. There were a high number of yellow jackets fumbling about which allowed me to get closer to ground zero. I found security attending to one suited guy who was lying face down on the floor before noticing another further ahead.

I found out in short order that the thin carpeting was littered with random dollars of multiple denominations scattered about which caused the crowding. Convention goers were caught up in a frenzy trying to score some random cash. Both of these guys were trashed as I squeezed between a couple of people peering in the alcove leading into the rear exit.

"YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE PROTECTING ME; WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU, HUH?!! I'M GONNA TELL MY SISTER TO FIRE ALL OF YOUR LAME ASSES!!"

C-List Chrystal was sprawled out on the floor just inside the exit as multiple agents crowded around her. One of the boosters was cradling her head which sported a visible lump. One of her blue eyes was swollen while her lip was cut. She was a mess but that didn't stop her from being filmed and photographed ad nauseum.

"Ms. McIntyre, we're taking control of the situation; we have feet on the ground." A short, pudgy guy in a suit addressed her.

"FUCK-YOU, I NEEDED YOU WHEN THE SHIT WENT DOWN!! GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY FACE!!" The guy stumbled backward actually tripping on the shattered remnants of one of C-List Chrystal's tip jars.