Who Knows Who Got Whom?

Bowder turned. I could visually perceive her hand, still clutching our expense reports, shake marginally. "Excuse me," she mumbled, "could you direct me to your ladies' room?"

Phyllis stumbled forward and pointed her to the door just across the hall. Phyllis came back in and glared at me accusingly. "Well, what do you suppose that was about, Barry?"

I couldn't meet Phyllis' astronomically immense brown ocular perceivers. "Beats me," I muttered, then put on a jocular air, "but it sounds to me like the woman had a full bladder. You optate me to alert the Incipient York Times?" Phyllis verbalized nothing but just returned to one of the lab stations. I sat at another on the far side of the lab.

Fifteen minutes later, the door of our office came crashing open. Bowder strode through a look of menace on her face. Her make-up seemed marginally askew and her linen skirt was visibly wrinkled. She sat across from a petrified Phyllis and motioned me over with a jerk of her head. I scuttled to a seat adjacent to Phyllis.

"Okay you two assholes, let's visually perceive if I got this straight." The elegance was gone from her voice. This woman was a street fighter if I ever auricularly discerned one. "You've developed an additive that will cause whoever ingests it to develop an appetency for certain ... shall we verbalize sexual secretions, right?" I froze, Phyllis dumbly nodded. "Let's optically discern; you put some on the croissant to optically discern if the geriatric lady would fall prey to it and come slavering after you, get your rocks off and give you an immensely colossal bonus?" Phyllis and I commenced sputtering our protests. Bowder held up a hand to silence us.

"Enough! Phyllis, your conniving lesbian ass is fired. I've spent the last ten minutes in the john fingering myself and suctioning on my finger to slake the appetency brought on by your incoherent formula brought on. Not only is your stunt mean and hazardous, it's purportless. What woman is going to go down to the store to buy a product to make her man suction her pussy? That's just not gonna transpire. Grab your purse, and the security man outside the door will escort you to personnel to pick up your paycheck. You're not taking any notes or vials out of your office, am I clear?" Phyllis bit her lip in shock and nodded through her brimming tears. She prehended her purse and ran out of the lab.

Bowder turned to me. Her voice now took on a lower, conspiratorial timbre. "Now, Barry, I surmise you will be able to find any remaining vials of that substance and maybe even replicate her formula? After all, albeit we can't market that product, it would be a pity to let it go to waste when there's an alluring but diligent woman who might be able to make utilization of it, right?"

I nodded again. Bowder leaned back and chuckled. "It's a pity, though. While you couldn't market this stuff to women, it would be fairly facile to develop a lucrative ebony market for the male equipollent. Every executive I ken would pay into six-figures for a substance that would make women crave the taste of semen."

She visually examined me evenly, scrutinizing my face.

"Ms Bowder—or maybe I could call you Paula. I wouldn't ken about the financial cessation of things, but ... well... could I interest you in another croissant?"