“Mr. Collins?” Elizabeth cried.

Mr. Collins looked up at her, startled. And around him peeked Jessica.

“Jessica?” Elizabeth exclaimed. I was wrong, she thought grimly. Things just got a lot worse. She jumped up off of Bruce’s lap and ran toward her sister, not believing that it really was her. The ho stroll

Lila leaned against her lime green BMW, examining her perfectly polished nails. She sighed loudly. She had been waiting in the parking lot of the Patman Canning factory since sunrise, getting up extra early to make a special effort on her appearance and to have Lucinda change Marshall.

I wonder when he’s going to bother to show up, Lila mused, reaching into her authentic Prada purse for her sunglasses and slipping them on. It looks like the underlings are showing up for work on the — ugh — assembly line. She shuddered as beat-up Hondas and Fords pulled into the parking lot, carrying their owners to another grueling day of work.

After what seemed like hours, they were followed by a vintage black Porsche, squealing into the parking lot as it took the turn a little too fast. Lila straightened up and pulled down the neckline of her minidress so it showed off an ample amount of cleavage. If there was one thing Bruce couldn’t resist, it was a nice set of tits, Lila remembered. They look like two bald toddlers butting heads with each other, she thought, looking down at her breasts. Perfect! Nice rack

“Oh,” Lila said condescendingly. “Well, when you see Jessica, tell her to come find me, OK? I can’t wait to show off little Rich!”
“Sure, Lila,” Elizabeth said. “I’ll be sure to tell her.”
Lila turned away, searching for someone else to brag to. She started in Amy’s direction, but Elizabeth caught her arm.
“Lila, wait,” she said. Lila turned a curious eye to her. “After the prom queen is crowned, get out of the gym, OK?”
“Why would I want to do that?” Lila asked. “That’s when the fun will just be getting started!”
“That’s when the fun will just be getting started for Big Mesa,” Elizabeth said darkly.
“What are you planning?” Lila asked, trying to control her voice so it wouldn’t give away the note of fear that sounded in her head like an alarm.
“Let’s just say we took a page from John Pfeifer’s book,” Elizabeth said ominously. Bombs, bombs, bombs