 |
| Ana Beatriz Barros |
| Ana was still at the buffet table talking to Liya. As Devon approached her from behind, Ana shook out of one of her sandals and slowly rubbed her toes up and down her shin. Devon watched this and waited as Ana returned her foot to her shoe. She shifted her weight and slid out of the other sandal, this time rubbing her foot up and down her calf, showing Devon her dirty sole. This was the moment of truth. He stepped forward and bent down to stroke Ana�s sole with his feather. She gasped and as she looked over her shoulder, she started laughing. With all Ana�s hopping around and toe-wiggling, Devon amazingly managed to keep his feather attached to her sole. Ana�s foot was waving about as though it were being chased by a hornet.
For this particular endeavor, a crowd was indeed gathering as Devon had anticipated, but as usual, no one was interfering. Ana finally tumbled to the floor onto her back as Devon continued to feather her sole, with her toes wiggling furiously. Ana was hysterical now, her face already turning red. |
| At this juncture, Portia was emerging from the bathroom, where she�d been for half an hour, dealing with a bout of constipation. She had on headphones, listening to her Atmosphere CD. She was wearing a colorful sarong and black mules like some of the other models. She had yet to visit the make up table for fear that it would inhibit her ability to �keep an eye out�, as Rollins had instructed her to do. She resumed her wandering, as she�d been doing earlier and quickly happened upon the crowd that had gathered. She went over to investigate, moving through bodies rather easily to get to the center of the action, and as she expected, there was Devon, funny mustache and glasses not withstanding, his feather moving back and forth between Ana�s crinkling soles. Ana�s laugh was almost inaudible at this point, though Portia wouldn�t have been able to hear it anyway over her stereo. She sighed at the prospect of having to watch this spectacle for what seemed like the millionth time. Something was different, however. This time, Portia felt oddly clear-headed, unlike before, when her brain turned to mush upon witnessing a scene such as this. She discovered she could still move normally. She almost felt as though she could reach out and sock Devon in the mouth if she wanted to. So Portia stepped forward, drew back her fist and gave Devon a hard slug across the jaw. Devon dropped his feather and looked up at Portia with shock and confusion as he clutched his pained jaw.
�Ow! What the fuck?� Portia laughed, giddy at having just solved the Devon conundrum. Somehow, she came to the conclusion that not being able to hear the laughter of Devon�s victims, made her immune from the lethargic trance that the laughter seemed to have over anyone within earshot of it. Devon glanced around nervously, then dashed off through the crowd, apparently sensing that the jig was up. Portia ripped off her headphones and handed them to a nearby model. �Hold this,� she said, before taking off after Devon. There wasn�t too many places for Devon to hide backstage. Everything was pretty much in the open. At the end of the area, he entered a small dressing alcove, where he found Omahyra standing by herself. She was barefoot and wearing nothing but one of the sarongs. They stared at each other for a second or two before Devon turned to leave. He figured it wise to leave backstage and lose himself amongst the audience that was filing in. �Hey, come here,� said Omahyra, stopping Devon in his tracks. �Have you seen Louise?� �What?� �Have you seen Louise? She�s supposed to fix my skirt.� �Uh, no. I haven�t seen her,� said Devon, his eyes now fixed on Omahyra�s breasts. Those breasts would be the last thing Devon would remember seeing, as a fist across his jaw from Portia rounding the alcove corner, knocked him out cold. �What the fuck you do that for?� Omahyra asked, with wide eyes. �You should be thanking me,� Portia replied, �unless you wanted your feet painted yellow.� Portia bent over and peeled the bushy mustache from Devon�s face. �Ohhhhh,� said Omahyra. |
| On the day of Devon�s sentencing, Portia was among the onlookers present in the courtroom. She was interested in seeing what form of punishment he would receive. He had been found guilty of several counts of breaking and entering and assault, but he was also only seventeen, therefore still a minor, coupled with the fact that he�d put on an Academy Award acting job during the trial. She wasn�t sure what to expect. Everyone in the courtroom stood as Judge Maureen Wilson entered. Judge Wilson had everyone sit, then summoned Devon to stand by himself.
�Mr. Stone, do you have anything else to say on your behalf?� �Your honor, I just wanna say that I�ve learned my lesson, and I will never tickle a woman�s feet and paint them yellow afterwards ever again.� �Well, Mr. Stone, these are very serious charges. However, during this trial, you�ve shown yourself to be contrite and remorseful, you have no prior criminal history and you are still a minor. Based on that, I�m sentencing you to two years� probation. I don�t wanna see you in this courtroom again.� A single high pitched �What?� from the back pierced the solace of the courtroom before Judge Wilson�s gavel hit the desk. |