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Unread 03-11-2014   #1
qzar9999
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Short story: "Mambo No. 5"

"Mambo No. 5"
Inspired by sumguy

"What the hell is she doing here?"

"Who?"

"That bitch Monica!" Erica growled, her finger pointing accusingly across the room at the dark-haired woman laughing loudly at someone's joke.

"Louis' ex? What the hell is she doing here?" Rita said, turning to follow her friend's finger.

"That's what I just said, Rita," Erica replied through gritted teeth. The tall blonde let out an animalistic snarl of frustration. "She can't possibly have been invited. Sandra would never have agreed to that." After a pause, she added, "I don't actually think Lou would have, either, come to think of it."

"So she's a fucking gate-crasher?" Rita said, glaring at the uninvited guest.

"I vote we go kick her ass, and then kick her out," a third voice chimed in.

Erica looked over her shoulder, staring at the pale, thin, black-haired girl behind her. "We can't do that, Tina. If we make a scene, we'll embarrass Sandra on her big day." She smiled at her friend. "Although that is tempting."

"Well we have to do something," Rita said. "You know if she hangs around she's going to be hitting on Lou constantly. How embarrassing do you think that will be for Sandra?"

In unison, the three women turned to look at the table set against the room's far wall. Their attention focused on the petite blonde sitting in the center, a bright smile on her face, her white dress radiant, her hand entwined with the hand of the tuxedoed man beside her. So far, the couple didn't seem to have noticed Monica, but that wouldn't last forever once she made her presence known.

They turned back to the intruder. "She might behave herself..." Tina said unconvincingly.

Rita snorted derisively. "Yeah. Right. The crazy woman who's made at least half a dozen attempts to win back her ex crashed his wedding just to wish the happy couple well." She shook her head. "Even if she had good intentions--and I can't see how that's possible--as soon as she's had a few she'll get sloppy and do something obnoxious." She pointed. "Look. She's already drinking."

Erica looked, seeing the glass in Monica's hand. "Oh, Jesus. Is she seriously wearing a white dress?" Her fist clenched involuntarily.

Tina frowned. "What the hell? She can't possibly think that there's any chance of getting Lou back. When is she going to accept that it's over and move on?"

"Some people just don't know when they're beaten." Rita looked thoughtfully at their enemy. "Then again, maybe she'll be satisfied just ruining the reception and leaving her mark on the wedding."

Erica glanced worriedly at Sandra, deep in conversation with Lou's brother, who was standing in front of the couple. "You're right, Rita. We have to do something about this. No fistfights," she added hastily, seeing Tina's expression. "In fact, why don't you go make sure Sandra stays distracted? You can keep her talking and focused on that side of the room until we get rid of the interloper."

"Fine," Tina muttered, glaring at Monica with her teeth bared. "But if whatever you come up with doesn't get rid of her, kicking her ass is Plan B, and I volunteer." The slim brunette whirled rapidly around and stalked off toward the bride, her slender form having little trouble gliding through the crowd.

"Okay. Now that Aramis is gone, what's your plan, Athos?" Rita said, grinning at Erica.

"You and your references," she grumbled, smiling in spite of herself. "We're going to go inform her that we've caught her gate-crashing and politely ask her to leave."

"That's it?" Rita winced. "I liked Plan B better."

"Look, if she knows that she's busted, she's going to be pretty embarrassed."

Rita dug in her handbag, producing her phone moments later. "The woman who once climbed up the fire escape to Lou's bedroom wearing nothing but Victoria's Secret panties and a babydoll nightie? And who stood in the hallway in that same outfit for thirty minutes cursing and pounding on the door after Sandy and Lou threw her out of the apartment?" She was rapidly tapping out a text message as she spoke. "Monica doesn't strike me as someone who possesses much shame."

"What are you doing over there, Porthos?" Erica said, craning her neck to look at her friend's phone screen.

"Just a little backup plan," Rita replied, turning the phone away. "We're calling Tina's 'beat her senseless' Plan C now, and mine is now Plan B, for when your brilliant scheme of 'talk her to death' inevitably fails." A few more clicks on the screen and she looked up, tucking the phone back into her bag. "Let's go use diplomacy on the crazy person." Erica marched smartly across the reception hall with Rita close behind, approaching the bronze-skinned Monica who was already on her second drink. She saw them as they drew near and smirked.

"Well, if it isn't The Amazing Lavender Twins," she said, grinning. "I don't know what shows worse taste--those dresses, or picking you two as bridesmaids."

"Ah. I see you're your usual classy self, Monica," Erica replied, her eyes narrowed. She scanned the white dress up and down. "So lovely of you to grace us with your presence. Will your groom be here any time soon, or did you get left at the altar?"

Monica's grin vanished. "My groom seems to be a bit preoccupied at the moment." She peered around Erica at the far-off table where Louis sat. "But I'm sure he'll be with me shortly." She glared as Rita stifled a laugh. "What's so funny, Rita Petita?" she said, stepping closer to illustrate her height advantage over the short redhead. This was a familiar tactic of hers; Monica was tall for a woman at 5'8", edging out Erica by an inch and looking noticeably taller than Sandra's average 5'4". She had never hesitated to accentuate this difference in her attempts to reclaim Lou. Today she seemed to loom even taller than normal above the 5' Rita; she'd worn four-inch heels, making the difference an entire foot. The effect was intimidating.

Or at least, it was supposed to be. Rita just kept laughing, though, unfazed by being eye-level with the Latina's impressive chest. "Nothing, nothing," the redhead said after a moment, managing to stifle her giggles enough to speak. "I'm just amazed that you're so...small-minded." She started laughing again and put her hand over her mouth, shaking her head.

Erica glared at Monica, looking up to meet her eyes. "You just can't let it go, can you? Sandra treats Lou better than you ever did, and he deserves someone like her, not a crazy little bitch like you. And rather than acting like a grown-up, you choose to latch on to him like a pit bull, and it seems like you're always underfoot. You've tried so many dirty tricks, and Sandra always manages to be the bigger person. She won't come down to your level and you can't stand it. You're embarrassing yourself more and more every time, and now you show up uninvited to their wedding all dolled up and dressed in white. That's really big of you--what is wrong with you, Rita?" the blonde said, turning to the red-faced redhead choking back laughter.

"I'm fine, I swear," she replied, her face pinched as she tried to control herself. She cleared her throat a few times. "I just...thought of something funny," she said, coughing unconvincingly.

"Louis has no business with that little Plain Jane," Monica snarled. "He and I are meant to be, and he'll see that soon enough."

"Jesus, do you listen to yourself when you talk?" Erica snapped. "It's like you think you're the god of your own private little universe. Can't you see that it's over?" She sighed heavily. "You need professional help, Monica. Maybe you should see a shrink. Shut up, Rita!" she added as the redhead convulsed anew in a laughing fit.

"It's not over until I say it is," the Latina said, gritting her teeth at Erica. "And I'm going to spend this whole reception showing up little miss nobody until Lou sees that she's got nothing on me."

"I'm just so glad we invited you. Oh, wait," Erica intoned flatly. "Gate-crashing a wedding. Even for you, that's low, and Rita I swear to God if you don't stop laughing I'll slap you."

Monica gave the blonde a spectacularly insincere saccharine smile. "It's so nice you have security here to handle people who gate-crash. Oh, wait," she said snarkily. "Unless you two little bitches plan to start a fight you can't finish, I suggest you get out of my face. I have a sexy man to talk to." So saying, she drained the rest of her glass and set it down, then shoved past them as she waded into the crowd, stopping to talk to people but gradually making her way closer to the seated couple.

"Well. That didn't work," Erica said, frowning as she watched her go. "Not that you were any help," she continued, turning to face Rita, her face still flushed. "What the hell was with you, anyway?"

"Heh. I'll tell you later," the redhead replied. "I told you talking to her wouldn't work. She's deranged."

"Yes, yes, you get to say 'I told you so.' Now where's your Plan B?"

Instead of replying to Erica, Rita turned and scanned the crowd. She waved to a woman in a waitress uniform with curly brown hair. "Jessica! Here I am! Over here!"

The waitress walked over, carrying a drinks tray. "Hey, Rita. Your friend's wedding is beautiful," she said, smiling at them.

"Isn't it, though?" Rita said, smiling back. "Too bad that bitch Monica is here spoiling it. But we'll have that fixed soon. You brought the drink I asked you for?"

"One Bloody Mary, right here," Jessica replied, gesturing to the red cocktail on her tray.

"Great. Hang on just a sec." She dug in her handbag again and produced a small vial of reddish liquid. Uncorking it, she dumped the contents into the beverage. "Now remember: when you give it to her, tell her Louis couldn't help but notice her here and wanted to send her favorite drink." Jessica winked at Rita and walked briskly away, vanishing into the crowd in the direction Monica had gone.

"Oh my God, Rita!" Erica said in a harsh whisper. She stared in wide-eyed shock at the short redhead. "Plan B is to fucking poison her?"

"Yes. I'm going to commit homicide," Rita said dryly. "I could see you suspecting Tina of that, maybe, but no."

"So what is that, then? Some kind of roofie? A sedative to knock her ass out?" Erica grinned wickedly. "...A powerful laxative?"

"No, although those are good ideas," Rita replied. "This is...ah...well. I got it from a friend of mine. She's a lab technician at T&B Technologies. This is a little something they've come up with that hasn't gone public yet, but it has a very...interesting effect on people."

"Define interesting," Erica said, raising an eyebrow.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. But keep an eye out for Monica after she drinks it and you'll see."

Erica frowned at the redhead. "Wait. Why did you bring some kind of weird experimental drug to the wedding, anyway?"

Rita coughed and blushed, embarrassed. "Well, I uh..." she trailed off, mumbling.

"What? Didn't catch that," Erica said, smiling slyly.

"I brought it for personal use, okay? Lou's friend Jake is pretty hot, and I think he's into me, and I was hoping to hook up with him here and, uh, have a little fun with that stuff," Rita said sheepishly.

"Ok, seriously. What the hell does it do? Did you just drug Monica with some kind of aphrodisiac?"

"Just watch." She pointed across the room, where Jessica had just caught up with their target. They saw her say something to Monica and offer her the drink; the dark-haired woman beamed and eagerly took it from her, taking a couple of large sips as Jessica slipped away. The waitress glanced in their direction and flashed Rita a quick thumbs-up. "Ha! Got her!" She looked toward the central table and saw Tina deep in conversation with Sandra. "Good. Sandy hasn't seen her yet. Hopefully my little bonus will take effect before she can draw too much--" The Latina had wandered over near the DJ booth; suddenly, she grabbed a microphone, then picked up a spoon from a nearby table and started tapping her half-empty glass, the ringing sound cutting across the room and silencing conversations. "Oh no," she said, putting a hand over her eyes.

"So much for that idea," Erica said, scowling at the gate-crasher.

"If I could have everyone's attention for just a moment!" Monica called into the sudden quiet. Erica watched as all eyes in the room turned to her, including, unfortunately, the bride and groom. She could see Sandra's face falling as she realized who it was. There were some grimacing faces around the room as some of Sandra's other good friends recognized Monica as well.

"Thank you all," she continued, speaking into the microphone. "So glad to see so many happy faces here today. Such a beautiful wedding, wasn't it?" She paused for a moment and heard some confused, half-hearted murmurs of agreement. She drained the rest of her Bloody Mary as she walked over to the multi-tiered wedding cake sitting on a nearby table. "Yes, a lovely wedding. Should've been me up there next to Louis, but congratulations to you, Sandra." Monica plucked the miniature bride-and-groom topper from the cake, eliciting a few shocked gasps from the crowd, then turned to face the seated couple again. She wobbled slightly on her heels, looking confused for a second before regaining her balance.

"Ah. I think it's starting to work," Rita said quietly.

"What are you talking about?" Erica replied.

"That little stumble just now."

"She's had at least three drinks, Rita."

"Trust me," the redhead said, watching the intruder with laser-like focus.

Monica kept talking, looking directly at Sandra and Louis where they sat. "Yes, congratulations for somehow tricking Lou into not seeing what he was missing out on." She began to slowly walk toward the table as the shocked crowd looked on. "I mean, he could've had me--" she paused to gesture at her impressive figure, the swell of her bust accentuated by the white gown's lines and her firm ass hugged by it lower down "--but he chose you. God knows why." She casually snapped the bride off the cake-topper and set it aside, then frowned down at herself for a second, fidgeting with the dress as if it wasn't sitting quite right.

"Your little drug better take her out soon, or I'm going to," Erica muttered darkly.

"Don't worry, it won't be long now," Rita replied, smiling as Monica stumbled in her heels again.

"But you know, I'm a believer in true love," she said, righting herself again and glancing down at her heels for a second. "I think if two people are meant to be, it'll happen, regardless of any obstacles that might temporarily get in their way," she said, staring pointedly at Sandra. "I mean, when it's real love, anyone can see it!"

She flung her arm in an expansive gesture, but its impact was lost when the pearl bracelet she was wearing flew off her hand and across the room, landing on the floor somewhere in the crowd. She gasped when she realized it was gone. "Oh! That was a gift to me from my soulmate!" she said, glancing at Louis before turning to try to see where it had landed. "If someone could look for it..." She seemed to realize she was getting off track and turned back to the wedding party.

"Anyway. Where was I? Oh yeah." She resumed her prattling about love, peppered with obvious jabs at Sandra and pining for Louis, but Rita was snickering, holding her hand over her mouth and trying to keep quiet. At first Erica wasn't sure what was so funny, but watching Monica, she began to notice some oddities.

For one thing, she seemed to be slouching a bit, which was odd given her fondness for lording her height over others. But for some reason she looked shorter than usual--it was hard to tell from the distance, but even with the four-inch heels she almost looked the same height as Erica. Also, the shoes kept on giving her trouble; she repeatedly stumbled in them as she strode along the floor (presumably for dramatic effect). Her gown looked slightly different too, as if it wasn't hugging her curves quite as snugly as it seemed to be earlier. She must have noticed that problem as well, since she would occasionally stop to irritably brush at it, as if smoothing out wrinkles. She also paused at one point, a pained expression on her face, and clutched at her ears, removing her earrings and staring at them in confusion for a moment before carrying on.

"And if you think about it, what really matters is WHOA!" As Monica went to take another step forward, she lost her balance as her foot lifted right out of her shoe. She staggered forward, her arms spinning like windmills as she tried to right herself, but she crashed ingraciously to the floor (her other foot resting awkwardly in its shoe, her bare heel exposed as it had slipped out of the back). A murmur of laughter went around the crowd as she gathered herself and stood back up. Her dress looked to have been disturbed in the fall, and she smoothed it out again, although it looked a bit loose no matter what she did. She stepped back into the heels and stared down at them in puzzlement when she couldn't seem to get them to fit her feet--she took a couple of steps experimentally and the shoes wobbled loosely. Shrugging, she raised the mic back to her face to continue her speech.

"As I was saying. What really matters is the bond two people share," she said. She started walking around the floor again, although her strides were shorter and she moved her feet more carefully so as to keep the too-big heels on. "And that bond encompasses a lot of things. How compatible their personalities are, how devoted they are to each other, common interests, physical intimacy...what?" she asked, confused at another wave of laughter sweeping around the crowd. She hadn't noticed it yet, but as the words "physical intimacy" had left her mouth, a pair of lacy red panties had fallen from the bottom of the dress and landed at her ankles.

"She couldn't have timed that better on purpose," Erica said, chuckling. She looked beside her and saw Rita was turning red in the face again, her mirth evident even with her hand clamped securely over her mouth. "Ok, seriously, Rita. What was that stuff? How is it giving her wardrobe malfunctions?" The redhead simply shook her head, gesturing with her free hand for Erica to keep watching.

"What is everyone laughing at?" Monica said, her tone rising in anger. Someone must have finally given her a hint, because she looked down toward her feet. "What? What is--aaaah!" she shrieked, bending at the knees to grab at the fallen panties. She wavered unsteadily, crouching atop her ill-fitting shoes as she pulled the red lace up past her knees and fiddled with the strangely loose dress, trying to get her underwear back in place without flashing the crowd. Finally satisfied, she stood back up, frowning down at herself for a moment and adjusting her dress again, having trouble getting it to sit right on her breasts. Despite its neckline pluging daringly far, it didn't appear very flattering to her boobs...in fact, they almost looked smaller than usual.

"Well, that was--" she bumped the microphone against her lips as she brought it up. She pulled her arm back and stared at it in confusion. Erica, watching from afar, was amazed at how big the mic looked next to her face. "Ahem. That was awkward," she finished, adding a phony-sounding laugh to cover her embarrassment. The awkwardness returned full force a second later, as she started speaking again and the red undies again fell to her ankles. "Oh my god, what the fuck?" she snapped as the crowd laughed at her again. She bent to pick them up a second time, her face flushing, but this time keeping her balance on the wobbly heels proved unmanageable and she tumbled to the floor again, her feet slipping completely out of the shoes and leaving them (and the lacy panties) standing empty as she sprawled out in front of them.

She stood up and looked behind her, seeing the pair of heels and her underwear lying on the floor, and stared at them for a moment, her blushing face registering indecision and the beginnings of panic. She had the microphone hanging down by her side, but her snarled "Fuck it" was loud enough for Erica and Rita to hear. She put the mic back up to her face and began striding toward the couple in the center, her walk once again confident as she didn't have to contend with her shoes trying to fall off.

What she didn't notice, however, was all too clear to Erica now that the Hispanic homewrecker was barefoot. "She's shorter!" the blonde said in shock, turning to look at Rita.

"Well, yeah," said the redhead between laughs. "Those heels gave her four inches, remember?"

"Dammit, Rita, you know what I mean. She's actually SHORTER," Erica retorted, annoyed. "She's got to be shorter than me. Hell, probably shorter than Sandra. What the hell was that stuff?"

"Why, Erica, what are you suggesting?" Rita said, barely able to speak without threatening to dissolve into giggles.

"She's fucking shrinking! There, I said it!" Erica snapped.

"Yes. Yes, she is," Rita replied. "Now you know why I was laughing so much earlier when you tried to talk her down. I swear, your word choices..." She snorted again, trying to keep her laughter under control. "Anyway. I told you you wouldn't believe me unless you saw it. And not only is this a form of embarrassment that might actually work on her, but it's also funny as hell to watch her coming undone," she continued.

"Well, we have said that she could stand to be cut down to size," Erica said, sighing at Rita's burst of giggles. A thought struck her as she turned slowly to stare at the petite redhead. "Hey, wait a second. Didn't you say you brought that to use on yourself?"

Instead of answering, Rita started toward the far end of the room and motioned for her friend to follow. Fascinated, Erica kept her eye on the dwindling party crasher as the duo walked slowly closer. Now that Erica knew what she was looking for, it was painfully obvious. The white dress Monica had worn was extremely loose on her, her ample curves lost beneath its baggy bulk, its formerly short hem hanging down past her knees and its neckline so low that it was barely covering her nipples, the slightly stiff upper part still retaining its shape; it apparently had a built-in bra or something similar. The effect was to make her tits look too small for the dress she was wearing. Which was technically entirely accurate, Erica realized. The only reason it hadn't fallen off was that its narrow straps were still hanging on her shoulders, though they were perilously close to dropping down her arms. Monica's impressive height had indeed melted away, a fact which was much more obvious now that she had stepped out of her heels. She looked like she might actually be shorter than Rita now, and her descent seemed to be continuing.

The withering wench hadn't yet become aware of her problem, although she seemed to realize something was off as she neared the still-seated bride and groom. Erica caught a glimpse of the expression on Sandra's face and realized she wouldn't envy Monica once the bride realized what was happening. The diminishing damsel kept glancing at the microphone in confusion, as it seemed to be the relative girth and length of a sub sandwich in her still-shrinking hand. Finally, she drew to a stop just in front of the main table, staring in puzzlement at the seated couple, who were nearly as tall as her.

"Wow. Didn't realize that table was so high up," she said, stammering slightly as if she had expected to be looking down at Sandra for the finale of her tirade. However, though she may have been slightly shaken by the turn of events, she obviously had no intention of stopping until she'd said what was on her mind. "Um. Anyway. The point I'm trying to make is, if you love someone enough, you have to be prepared to go the distance. You can't be afraid to put your heart and soul into making it work, and you have to let that person see you at your best and worst, at your strongest and your most vulnerable. You have to be willing to show them everything, and--"

Proving that the universe has exceptionally good comic timing, her shoulder straps chose that moment to finally slide from her shrinking frame. The left strap immediately dropped all the way off her lowered arm, and the right one snagged on her elbow as she still had the comparatively huge microphone up to her face. The net effect was that the dress fell lopsidedly down her body, the right side of it hanging somewhere around Monica's hip and the left side stopping somewhere around her knee. Her strapless bra hung just above it, encircling her waist like a hula hoop, its right side snagged on the top of the dress at her hip. This left her completely exposed to the room. As she looked down at herself, she dropped the microphone in shock, its loud boom echoing over the sound system, and once her arm was no longer bent upward the right side of her dress dropped as well, leaving her standing nude in a pile of white fabric that rose halfway up her shins.

"Oh my god!" she cried, bending over to scoop up her fallen dress. Someone whistled appreciatively at her bare ass as she gathered the fabric. She stood up, starting to flush crimson, and held the huge dress against her dwindling frame. She finally seemed to realize what had happened to her, noticing that the crowd was full of abnormally tall people and even the seated wedding party was above her. "What the hell is happening to me?!"

Sandra rose from the table and walked around to the front of it, approaching the miniature Monica. Erica could only imagine how terrifying it would be to see someone twice your size stomping towards you with their teeth gritted in fury. At first she thought the Latina was cowering before her rival, but then she realized Monica was still shrinking, her dress pooling around her even as she pressed it against her body, the comically oversized stiff bust of the garment gaping emptily around her tiny tits. The blonde stopped next to the raven-haired reducee, glaring down at the thigh-high trollop who continued to diminish before her. Erica and Rita crept up behind Monica, unnoticed as she stared up at the towering bride. After a few moments, Sandra spoke.

"I don't know what's going on, Monica, but I have to say it couldn't have happened to a more deserving person. You've done nothing but try to ruin my relationship with Louis from the minute you decided you wanted him back. You've been petty, and vicious, and cruel, and conniving, and now you've had the nerve to show up at my wedding reception--my WEDDING RECEPTION--and say something like that." She glowered down at the tiny interloper, her eyes narrowed to slits. "Well. Now everyone can see how small and pathetic you really are."

"Please, Sandra! I'm so sorry! Help me!" Monica had shrunk below Sandra's knee by now and finally gave up on holding up the increasingly heavy dress. She let the garment fall to the floor, leaving her naked before the gigantic blonde in a puddle of white that rose nearly to her waist.

"Help you? You seriously expect me--or anyone else here--to help you?" Sandra erupted in a short burst of mocking laughter, then shook her head. She raised her foot menacingly over the still-shrinking brunette. "What I ought to do is step on you like the pest you are."

Monica fell to her knees, her hands clasped in a desperate plea. "No! No! Please don't! I'll do anything you want!" she sobbed.

"Anything?" Sandra asked, her foot still dangling above the doll-sized homewrecker.

"Yes! Anything! I swear! Please, just don't hurt me!"

The bride seemed to consider this for a moment, then spoke. "You'll leave Louis and me alone? You'll move on with your life?"

"Maybe get some professional help?" Erica chimed in. The itty-bitty Monica looked over her shoulder and gave a tiny gasp of surprise at seeing Erica and Rita looming over her from behind.

"Yes! I promise! I'll never bother you again," the miniature woman said emphatically.

"Well, alright," Sandra said to her shrunken foe. She then slammed her foot down hard right in front of the little Latina, causing Monica to shriek and throw herself backward, away from the blonde's car-sized shoe. "But just remember what can happen to you if you break your promise." She turned on her heel and started back around the table to rejoin Louis.

"Hey!" mini-Monica shouted, her little voice barely carrying. "What about me? How do I get back to normal?"

"Well, about that," Rita said. The tiny intruder turned to face the redhead who should have been much shorter than her, but now looked like a giant. "I can put you back the way you were, but you're gonna have to earn it..."

A short time later, the party was back in full swing. The clothes that Monica had shrunk out of had been bagged up and set aside to return to her later. Erica and Rita stood near the wedding cake, inspecting the restored cake-topper decoration.

"I think it looks great," Erica said with a smile.

"Yeah, you'd never know anything had happened to it," Rita said, grinning at the decoration.

"Am I gonna have to stand here the whole rest of the day?" Monica squeaked. "My feet hurt already. And I can't believe you cut up my dress to make this. Do you know how expensive it was?" She gestured at the makeshift miniature wedding gown that had been fashioned out of a strip of her previous dress.

"You should have thought of that before you damaged the cake-topper," Erica said, leaning in close to where the brunette stood on the top tier.

"Look at it this way," Rita added, grinning broadly. "Now you do get to stand next to Louis as bride and groom."

"This isn't what I had in mind," Monica replied, scowling.

"Well, I'm sure Sandra didn't have you trying to party-crash in mind, either. I guess sometimes things don't go the way we plan, huh?" She winked at the shrunken Monica.

"Now remember, no nibbling on the cake. If you behave, maybe we'll give you a bite after all the, ah, grown-ups have had some," Erica said, snickering.

"Very funny," Monica said, rolling her eyes.

"Well, you have a very important job here. And your restoration depends on it, so you can't afford to mess up. We'll leave you to it," Rita said.

As the pair walked away from the cake table, Erica leaned over and whispered to the redhead. "Didn't you say that stuff will wear off in about 12 hours anyway?"

"Yeah. But she doesn't need to know that." Rita grinned mischievously at her friend. "Come on, Erica, let's go see if I can find Jake."
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Unread 03-11-2014   #2
OhZone
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Re: Short story: "Mambo No. 5"

Yay! Another gem! And this one has a different flavor. Kewl. I don't know why Nina says the SW community is shrinking!












Oh wait! haha Anyway, You're so prolific! The SW world is growing thanks to you and some others! Ohyeah!
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Unread 03-11-2014   #3
Knightstable
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Re: Short story: "Mambo No. 5"

Another great story thanks!
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Unread 03-11-2014   #4
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Re: Short story: "Mambo No. 5"

Very entertaining and exceptionally well-written!

The dialogue was especially engaging, and made the characters seem dynamic and real.
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Unread 03-12-2014   #5
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Re: Short story: "Mambo No. 5"

Nice A fun and well written story.
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Unread 03-12-2014   #6
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Re: Short story: "Mambo No. 5"

Ugg so many cringe moment from Monica. I enjoyed it. Keep up the great work!!
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