Each vehicle was a remodeled cross-country bus, with a bed in back, a small kitchen, a small bathroom, and a small lounging area up next to the driver. The beds had linens, and the refrigerators and cupboards had been stocked with drinks and snacks. Each woman had woken in the bed in back of her bus, had dressed, and had settled in for the long journey. En route, they had been in touch via radio with the Hotel. In return for a little publicity, the two women would have their vacations totally comped. Both women demanded, however, a "NO NUDITY" clause in the agreement. Now they were disembarking from the two buses, with Subgirlie in the first and the TW Girl in the second. Subgirlie had on a pink dress with a little pink vest over it. The TW Girl was wearing her usual casual attire: white shorts, sandals, and a yellow "CHEERIOS" t-shirt.
Hilbert figeted and began his rehearsed speech: "Welcome, ladies, to the Backstage Hotel! I am the manager, David Hilbert! On behalf of the staff and the Board of Directors, we'd like to wish you a pleasant stay! Bellhops will assist you with your valises! Boy!" Hilbert waved a hand at several uniformed bellhop, who began loading huge trunks with the women's wardrobes onto luggage trolleys.
Hilbert and the two women began walking up a ramp, up to the B1 level. Hilbert pointed out a few shops to the women, then guided them up another service ramp to a staff-only area on the Concourse level. "Please forgive the secrecy, but it is for your safety! We thought you both might need time to freshen up before the press conference."
Each woman's bags were deposited in the proper suite. Both women met in Subgirlie's room to compare notes. The two women had spoken on the radio, but never actually met until now. Each seemed to be mutually intrigued by the other--and they each had genuine respect for the other, as well. After several minutes of conversation, both women felt comfortable enough with the other to exchange their True Names. They promised each other that neither would call the other by her True Name in front of anyone else.
"No nudity?" asked Subgirlie, at one point in the conversation. Both women had ordered and gotten a drink to unwind by now.
"No, I wouldn't do that," said TW's Girl. "I mostly just stood there while my boyfriend took the pictures. Once I posed in a see-through shirt. I sort-of regret that now."
"What about that topless photo that keeps circulating?"
The TW Girl blushed. "That was a fake. I wouldn't pose topless."
"Neither would I. Don't you feel a little self-conscious, being seen by all these guys?"
"No! They've never seen my face, anyway," said the TW Girl.
"Until now," said Subgirlie. The TW Girl blushed again.
The TW Girl went back to her own suite. In another minute she was on the phone to Subgirlie: "Most of these are my own clothes, but some I've never seen before!"
"I think they want us to do some modeling. I think it's payment for getting our vacation comped."
"They've given me a pink body stocking! You can see right through it! I mean, you can see EVERYTHING!"
"Men!" Subgirlie was holding up a negligee and a pair of high-heels. "Do they think that we wear this kind of stuff when we're lying around the house by ourselves? I didn't even wear high heels in the bedroom for my husband!" Subgirlie let the oufit fall lamely through her fingers onto the bed. "Oh, well, let's humor them for the time being, okay? If it's gets too raunchy, I'll get out of here if I have to WALK back!" Subgirlie said.
"Me too," agreed the TW Girl.
LATER THAT AFTERNOON . . .
In the lobby, the crowd was nearly boiling. Some had homemade signs from who-knows-where, reading "MARRY ME SUBGIRLIE" and "I (heart) THE TW GIRL," among other slogans. Some of the more oppressively vulgar ones had been forcibly ripped from the hands of drunken spectators by a couple of Cylons, who were providing security for the event.
Up on the stage now were Adama, in his Lorne Greene appearance, the one he used for dramatic appearances, as well as Starbuck and Apollo. Hilbert was also on the dais, looking around nervously, mopping his brow with a handkerchief. Subgirlie had changed into a modest outfit of black pants and a black blouse, and the TW Girl was in a long purple dress, clutching a small gold purse. Finally, next to the podium, was MarkT. . . .
In the crowd, several Authors were spectators: Quiggmann, Deuce (D>-), Dabbler, DejaVoodoo, Mello, Kenneth Kaunda, Dr. Hook, JigSaw, TriCity Bendix, and several others. F-Cup Fitzgerald was in his usual spot, never too far from the bar, and currently sipping a martini. He was right next to the metal risers in back, where the drunkest of the spectators were mugging for the TV cameras.
"I had no idea that's what MarkT looked like," Fitzgerald said, shouting in Dabbler's ear to be heard. He had a point. MarkT, or Mr. T as he was known to strangers, was a huge black man with his head shaved into an unusual mohawk, wearing a sleeveless shirt, a LOT of gold necklaces, and a ring on every finger.
"I pity the fool who misses this show!" said T, in a loud voice. The crowd cheered wildly.
"I hear he's been sick recently. Usually he pities fools all day around here," Dabbler shouted back. Next to MarkT were three men who looked a lot like Dirk Benedict, Dwight Schultz, and George Peppard.
"I wonder why she's never shown her face," Fitzgerald said, indicating the TW Girl. "She's BEAUTIFUL! Sorta looks like--"
"--Jennifer Aniston," Dabbler finished. "Yeah, I thought that too. Why would a woman that pretty refuse to show her face in a picture?"
"Are there any questions?" T began.
"Yeah, I have a question for the TW Girl!" Dabbler said, speaking into a microphone on a stand. "Why have you never shown your face in a photo?"
"Me? I'm not pretty. Who'd want to see a picture of me?" said the TW Girl. Boos of disagreement from the crowd."What's your bust measurement?" (to both women)
"What's your cup size?" (to both women)
"Are you ever going to start posing for pictures again?" (to the TW Girl)
Then things started to get a little nervous:
"Are you ever going to pose topless?" asked one guy, nudging his friends in the ribs. The questioner leaned down and fished a Heineken from a cooler.
"NO!" said both women together. "No nudity!" said Subgirlie. "I don't feel comfortable with that. Not at the, er, present time." The TW Girl nodded vigorously.
"But the TW Girl has posed topless already," said the guy with the Heineken.
The TW Girl started to say that that particular picture was a fake, but before the microphone could be passed to her, several people in the back of the stands started chanting "TOP-LESS! TOP-LESS! TOP-LESS!"
"This is going to get ugly," warned Fitzgerald.
"Tell me about it," said Dabbler.
"SHOW US YOUR TITS! SHOW US YOUR TITS! SHOW US YOUR TITS!" screamed the drunks at the back of the crowd. . . .
Fri May 4 11:23:19 2001