Sunday, July 3, 2016


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"Abby darling...this isn't what it looks like!"

"Do you think I'm an idiot Don?  You have been embezzling all of my hard-earned money to finance some twisted, perverted, private porn website, featuring fake Photoshopped pictures of me!  Ughhh...Donnie how could you?"

"Believe me babe, this is all for you...the adult entertainment industry can easily boost your career tenfold.  Think about the possib..."

"I don't WANT to think about it.  The answer is 'never in a MILLION years.'  We're done here Donnie.  Consider my contract with you, terminated!"

"W-What the fuck?  You can't do that to me, you bitch!  I made you..."

"Out!  Out!  And don't ever come back or I'll call the police!"

That was about a week ago when Don had been unceremoniously dismissed from being the manager of professional glamour model Abigail Dallas.  To her disgust, Don had indeed been taking some of her modelling work without permission, manipulating and showcasing it on his website "Abigail For Sale."  It didn't take long for Abby to contact the police and seizure control of the website, blocking Don's access...

That was in itself a very big professional blow to Don's career, but Don received a personal one the next day after his argument with Abby.  He found most of his belongings in front of his small office, with a brief note from Abby: "It's OVER.  I'll send the rest of your stuff back to you later.  Have a nice life, asshole!"

Now Don was at a public social gathering, hosted by Abby's friend (and fellow model) Jessica.  Since breaking ties with Don, Abby had recently signed with Poise Magazine, a well known fashion publication famous for their tasteful glamour shots.

Don held his martini nervously as he walked out over to the garden, skipping the boring conversation inside.  Looking upwards, he suddenly spotted Abby, who was leaning against the railing, also looking pensive.  Don gritted his teeth in frustration: how could Abby do this to him?  After all he did for her?  He had been making big money from his website, but it was unfortunately funded by investors from the black market, shady investors who were VERY difficult to please.  When the site was taken offline, Don had reassured them that he could get it back up and running by summer.  However, he was running out of time.  Even if he could manage to bring the site back online, he still did not have any more new photos of Abby to Photoshop anymore, and Abby had not done any new work yet with Poise Magazine.

'If only there was a way for to find someone to take Abby's place,' Don thought.  But who???

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Don turned to walk back, when out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a slovenly dressed, rather obese man, sampling some food from one of the dessert trays.  The man appeared homeless, and had obviously had visited the party uninvited.  As Don watched two burly yet well-dressed guards approach the man, Don realized that this man wasn't exactly discreet about his presence…

"Hey!  W-What the hell, man?" the man yelled in a gruff, deep baritone, as the two guards lifted him by his arms.  I was just samplin' the good food.  It's a free country ain't it?  L-Let me go man!"

"Sir, you are clearly NOT part of the guest list," warned one of the guards.  "Please leave the premises now or we will be forced to escort you out.  And don’t let us catch you snacking behind our backs after we leave, or we WILL call the police, understand?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah…whatever man..” the man grumbled, as the two guards walked away.

Don took the moment to walk towards the man, who again was grabbing a plate and filling it with food.  "I couldn't help seeing and hearing your plight, buddy.”

“Yeah?” the man snapped.  “Well,I’ve been livin’ on the streets ever since I was 10 years old.   I can take care of myself just fine.  Ain’t no need for a guy like you to help a guy like me.”

“I beg to differ,” said Don.  “You look like a guy who needs ALL the help he can get.”  Don offered his hand, “I’m Donald, but you can call me Don.  What’s your name?”

The man hesitantly accepted Don’s handshake.  “Name’s Burt.”

“Pleased to meet you Burt,” smiled Don.  Donald quietly stared at Burt: Other than his stubborn streak, Don was impressed by his moxie.  He kept tilting his head, staring at Burt some more.  ‘No way,’ he thought to himself.  ‘He’s not even the right gender…but maybe…if Uncle Tom were to…no, it still wouldn’t work…or would it?”

“Um…hey man, you ok?” asked Burt, his mouth full.

“Hmmm?  Say, what if I told you I can help you out in such a way that you wouldn’t have to worry about your next meal, where to sleep, etc.?  Would you be interested?”

Burt glared at him in disbelief, raising an eyebrow, while scratching his partially bald head.

“I'm actually serious,” smiled Don, as he handed him his business card.  "I own a fairly well-known fashion management agency.  Meet me in my office next Wednesday at 9 am,, and we’ll talk shop.  I really think you have the chops to be a good model.”

Burt chuckled, “Me?  A fuckin’ model?  You’re playin’ with me right now, hehe…Ok Mac, I’ll play your game.  Next week then.”

Don nodded.  “Good, now I think you better split, as I think the guards are about to catch you again.  They’re headed this way."

“Oh shit!” exclaimed Burt.  “Thanks buddy, I’ll see you in a week!”  And with that, Burt carried his portly body slowly, lightly waddling towards the exit...

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