Outstripped

by Avery, T. C.

  Jody, as usual, was clueless, about what she was referring to, or what she was talking about. Looking about her, she tried desperately, instinctively, to find the faces of her previous comrades for some support. Of course, having been abandoned two weeks earlier, they were nowhere to be seen.

  The crowd hushed again.

  "What do you mean bad sex?" she queried, and immediately deduced with a level of naivety that could give 'stupidity' a run for its money, that Luke must have spilt the beans on their encounter and his own nasty behaviour.

  She began again, "You do know why I ran out, don't you?"

  "Oh, we know alright. Everyone knows," quipped Maddy. "Apparently you give the worst blowjob in town."

  Laughter ran riot amongst the onlookers.

  "I suppose your pet tosser, Luke, told you that, did he?" Jody was trying to put up a fight now, in defence of her dignity. Her self-pity was waning in favour of reaching for the moral high ground. "Well, let me tell you....."

  "Whoa! Steady on there Jody," Suzanne took back the reigns of her little public charade. "No one told us anything. It’s all right here on this tape." She pointed sideways to Charlie who promptly produced a home video tape from her school bag to substantiate the claim."

  "Bullshit!" said Jody.

  "Nah, ah!" exclaimed Suzanne, playing her slam-dunk 'trump card' with an air of confidence, heaps of arrogance and a devious upper hand. "You don't think we would have missed it do you? Jody's most embarrassing moment? Not bloody likely. We got the whole thing. Blow by blow, so to speak. You even looked at the camera for us at one point."

  "Oh my God. The little red light," thought Jody.

  She was finally realizing, after all this time, that their plan over the last two weeks had not been for her friendship. It had not been her social development or indoctrination into the 'it girls' inner sanctum. It had only, and always, been to show her up. Demoralize. Humiliate. Shit upon. In public. On purpose. From a great height.

  The penny dropped. It was now clear that the only objective of their recent friendship, attention and tutoring, was her Character Assassination. But why? Unfortunately, as Jody would come to understand, there is no 'why', there is only 'because'.

  She decided to challenge the evidence.

  "I don't believe you. There is no bloody recording. You're having us all on. That's just an empty tape."

  "Actually Jody, this one's for you. We've all seen it." Said Charlie, "haven't we girls?" and the crowd erupted once more with their jeering, whistling and laughter as she handed over the offending article.

  Jody snatched at it.

  The true scale and horror of her experiences with these witches and their bastard from wherever he was from, was coming in to full view and glaring comprehension. Her tears were welling, her colour was draining, and shame was descending.

  An additional, embryonic emotion, however, was also beginning to amass.

  Anger.

  But it would need to wait. Right now, it was time to run again.

  Back through the gauntlet she pushed and jostled. And as she fought her way through the throng of bodies and the sea of faces, she recognized peers and enemies, so called friends and foes. It was like some horror film dream sequence, but eventually she did reach the other end, when the familiar shriek of a penguin on full squawk assisted in her relief and release from this nightmare. The crowd dispersed as "Assembly" was called.

  She didn't hang around, though. Home and her mother and her pillow beckoned. It would take a great deal of crying and self-pity, growing up and hardening up to deal with this unfathomable and unwarranted lesson in life.

  Jody brought herself round sufficiently, eventually, to watch the video. It did not make good cinema. Not even as a bad, cheap porn flick. Though it never was about sex or a video instructive on 'how not to please your man'. The draw for all the girls at school was, as usual, a good laugh, a good sneer, and the embarrassment of it all. For someone else that is, not them. A good laugh and a finger poke at a classmate's expense. The problem was it was hers. And it was far reaching. Over the coming days she would learn that this was indeed only her copy, and that others had been distributed, sold even, within Mary Magdalene and also to various boys from their own Grammar school down the road.

  Jody had a choice. She could run from it all and be ruined, mentally, metaphorically and physically, or she could stay and fight. Deal with it. Survive and thrive. Martyred in her own mind and thus saved from all such future abuse.

  Time, tact, tenacity, and the development of rhino skin would eventually get her through. Helped by a certain amount of dedication and development in the arts of teenage voodoo, self-determination and meticulous, calculated planning.

  She knew it was going to take a long time and a lot of will power. She was prepared for that. But somehow there was something missing. Something to bring it all together.

  Then Jody recalled how she came up with her “Pledge of Diligence," as she called it.

  She'd concluded the answer lay in a 'mission statement', like some corporate entity bent on publicly declaring its plans. But this mission, this statement, this mantra, would be anything but public.

  It eventually came to her. The American Pledge of Allegiance. It had the right kind of sentiment. The right sort of importance and sincerity. It was short, it was poignant, and it had rhythm.

  She was always reasonably good with her English so it only took a couple of days to come up with her own meaningful, heart felt, purposeful, gritty, vengeful version.

  But it worked.

  Well, it worked for Jody anyway.

  And that's all that mattered.

  Jody's “Pledge”

  “I pledge my diligence to be bad

  To the united ‘skanks’ of St Mary Madge

  And to the mean 'bush pig' the four bitches banged

  One patient, under dog, who’s invisible

  Brings witchery and injustice for all”

  Of course it was childish, teenage nonsense, but it got her through some very tough times. It also set the scene for a revenge plot beyond the comprehension of mere man. A plot that would take her well into her twenties. A scheme that would have her travel the globe in search of just the right contacts, information, artifacts and evidence. Real or otherwise. And a plan that would bring justice, or injustice, depending on your standpoint, for all of Jody's perpetrators.

  "And," she thought,” therein lies the answer."

  "Witchery And Injustice For All"

  (W.A.I.F.A.)

  Chapter 16

  Immaculate contraption

  So, now you know how, and why, it all began. But Jody, still in Fiji if you remember, hasn't yet recalled, for your benefit that is, her most daring and triumphant moments.

  Of course, getting her own back on all the bitches and bastards was exceptional, and worthy of celebration. But the chapters of events, the skirmishes and minor engagements that made up the war as a whole, were just as rewarding on their own. In a way they brought instantaneous satisfaction and certainly kept the fire burning whilst patiently awaiting the finale.

  And so, with fond remembrance, our Jody once again delighted in the individual successes of her venture. And one particular chapter stood head and shoulders above them all.

  Amsterdam.

  On the second of Lucy's stints at Banner Products, in her role as Luke's tried (literally) and trusted (by demand and default) Personal Assistant, way back in 2001, the conversation and subject matter of travel came around.

  Luke had the honour of arranging a 'Stag do' on behalf of his best mate and company solicitor, Graham, later in the year. He took his role as 'Best Man' seriously and wanted his friend of a number of years to go off, and forth, with a bang. They all had money in his circle of friends, so a 'trip to remember', was on the cards and not beyond the reach of their pockets.

  Easily spotting a good opportunity when she came across it, Lucy, in her role as organizer and assistant for all this kind of shit, took
it upon herself to help. Of course Luke had used another travel agent on many occasions before, but Lucy knew of 'the best'. It was a fledgling company, but the owners had an incredible following. Wealthy, adventurous and influential people from all over London had positive things to say about 'The Adventurer's Assistant Travel Agency', or 'T double A' as it had become known. And they stuck with them. Praise and loyalty for the Agency was easy to find. Anyone who'd ever come across them had trouble singing their praises highly enough. And, since Lucy wouldn't shut up about them, and had already made contact with one of the agents (Rachael) on his behalf, Luke had no choice but to succumb to her incessant but lovable bullying tactics, which of course were thigh high in seductive undertones, as usual.

  Luke agreed, as expected, to let Lucy assist with the arrangements for the Boy's weekend away. Her instructions were to get the agents to come up with a stag weekend to 'go down in history'. He had a long list of questions she needed to ask of the agents, such as: Was it worth going abroad in the first place? Where's hot and where's passé? And where can they get up to pretty much anything without being hauled in, too readily, by the authorities?

  He also sent her on her way with a list of must have's for the trip which included: A decent hotel with separate rooms, just in case they all got lucky; Somewhere with style and reputation but not completely full of geriatrics and tourists; Good quality night life with the added prospect of some fleshy delights, in keeping with the tradition of all the best stag do's, etc., etc.

  On and on he went until Lucy put a finger to his lips and instructed him in her inimitable way, to leave it in her more than capable hands.

  It would take about a week for Rachael to come back to Lucy with the best solution. Careful, strategic, masterful planning from Jody and the team would see Luke, the Groom, and their entourage in 'Stag heaven' for the weekend of their life.

  In truth, Jody and the girls had a major mission on their hands putting it all together. It wasn't as simple as choosing a location and booking everything. Oh no! Jody needed some action of her own on this weekend, though nobody would know. She needed to check itineraries, flight schedules, staffing and hotels and pre-arrange the assistance of her own entourage of willing participants and subjects also. These opportunities don't come around very often, and she needed to make hay while it was sunny. Or, more specifically, get up to something devious whilst no one was looking.

  As it turned out they got a little lucky.

  Upon checking Charlie's working schedules and flights they found her to be on European duties in December. A number of destinations were possible but it would be just perfect if they could make everything come together in Amsterdam. Jody already had the new club and some trusted staff and entertainers on her side. It made perfect sense to make plans around it. She'd have months to get her plotting and scheming right but the important bit was to get Luke, and at least one of the 'skanks', in the same town at the same time. Though, they wouldn't have an inkling of it themselves.

  Luke had expected all the more common destinations to crop up, like Dublin, Hamburg and Prague. Someone had even suggested Florida, but that was pushing it just for a weekend. "Amsterdam was a bloody good choice" and when the delights of this fair city's Canal and Red Light districts were catalogued for him, it became a 'no brainer'.

  Dates were set, flights booked, hotel rooms and transport arranged. Even tuxedo rental was organized. A nice touch thrown in by Lucy. It just needed final confirmation and payment from Luke in person, down at the agency, along with a copy of everyone's passports. So, on one of her remaining days with B.P.L., he and Lucy made their way in to the city, and since the parking was a nightmare, as usual, it was left to Lucy to mind his Merc' on the double yellow lines outside whilst he went in to sign up with Rachael.

  Jody was inconspicuous, of course.

  This opportune, but time constrained moment, was just the ticket for Lucy for a little more sneaky spy play, and after watching Luke disappear through the shop front doorway she got to work on exchanging the padlock key on his key ring. It was the only thing left on her 'to do' list since being sent in by Jody on these under cover ops, though she had to admit to enjoying every minute of them. Other than the actual work that is.

  It was a simple enough task. Turn off the engine, take out the keys and change the padlock key. Easier said than done. Unless you have men's fingers and nails of cast iron that is, but not quite such a cinch when you have long pink painted girly nails, and you like to keep them that way. As luck would have it Lucy had recently read up on some useful, practical 'life' tips in the pages of some women's magazine, which included the old 'car key change' problem. She’d come across it once before, but a staple remover was not appropriate outside of the office. The answer, and the little object she kept on her person for just the right occasion, was a ring pull from a drinks can, and in Lucy's case from her favourite Vodka RTD.

  "Voila!" Or so she thought.

  Just as the ring pull was being administered, she raised her head and noticed Luke's own head appear out of the doorway followed by some waving hands. He clearly needed something. She was now in a panic to either get the keys back in the ignition, or finish the exchange, in case he came back to the car. But then came a sudden and unexpected tap on the driver's window. It was a "Bloody Traffic Warden".

  Dropping both the new and old padlock keys on the floor and losing the ring pull in her lap, she struggled to get the engine running again.

  It worked.

  She looked back at Luke, raised her hands upwards in fake exasperation and real acceptance of her parking infringement situation, then turned, smiled, waved at the warden and moved the car on.

  "Phew!"

  It was a close one.

  She drove the car around the block, parking halfway to complete her exchange, but disaster had struck. Picking up the two keys she could no longer work out which was which key. Not only that, she couldn't find the bloody ring pull and didn't have time to perform a full seat search and dismantle operation. So she ended up with a broken nail after all and no idea of whether she'd even completed the key swap.

  On returning to Luke and the agency frontage she was all hot and bothered. Luckily the age-old excuses of traffic and traffic wardens were sufficient to cover up her actual antics and their causes for concern.

  As luck would have it, Lucy's last minute 50/50 gamble was a winner and the broken nail was hailed a hero. The right padlock key, Jody's padlock key, was indistinguishably positioned on Luke's Mercedes car key fob.

  And so to Amsterdam, and Graham's Stag Do.

  Generally speaking these sorts of things are held in spring or summer, but owing to Graham's 'Mrs to be' insisting on getting married in January, so they could secure the right reception venue, they had to organize the big shindig prior to Christmas. One-week prior, as it eventuated.

  After checking in to their hotel on Friday afternoon, the lads promptly found their way down to the hotel bar, in casuals, and thence to a nearby 'Brown bar'/cafe where some of them would soak up the strange and aromatic flavours of the interior haze that allegedly passed as air, and one or two would actually purchase the offending weed in order to create more of said haze and a slightly altered state of mind.

  When the novelty had worn off and a few gills had grown greener the next port of call would be, well, anywhere really. Just so long as it sold beer, was full of hot chicks and was en route down to the Red Light district. It was Amsterdam they were in, not Bournemouth, so this was easy. Curiosity and satisfaction would be well catered for.

  Jody, through Rachael, had suggested their whole itinerary for the weekend, and as such was in a position to have them watched wherever they may wander. It was important on this preliminary evening that they be allowed to feel autonomous in all of their decision making. Nothing of the sort would be left to that sort of chance, as we know.

  Jody's little helpers for the evening were Famke and Aya. Two stunners she'd met in Ibiza, now put to very good use
and pay-rolled at Jody's new strip club. A pair of uninhibited young teases, they were well used to sexual experimentation, flirting, giving and getting what they wanted, and they were a formidable double act in every respect.

  'Purely by chance' they ended up in conversation with our Stag Party in a crowded and popular bar beside one of the canals near the Red Light district. These sorts of places are not deemed sleazy by the Dutch. They're part of the very essence and fabric of modern nightlife, so they're well frequented. The Red Light district is not seen as a decidedly male oriented downtrodden filth hole that the older western world would have us all believe. It’s a fresh and liberated approach to adult activities, and there for all to enjoy. It’s drinking, socializing, partying, dancing, stripping and sex. And it’s freedom from the hypocrisies of some so-called modern societies.

  Anyway, they allowed themselves to be entertained, conversed and plied with drinks by Luke and Graham and the gang. It was just like a regular Friday night out on the town, on the pull, and it looked like our guys had scored.

  In truth it was our girls who had scored, or rather, snared and honey trapped. It was a very touchy-feely kind of evening, full of smiles, come-ons, innuendo and dirty talk, but the girls remained chaste and untouched for the evening. Purposefully. Suitably imbibed and a whole heap of fun, but not to the same extent as the guys who were, to put it mildly, well pissed.

  They agreed to meet up the following evening after the pre-arranged dinner cruise in order that the local girls could show the guys around town. Apparently they would be needing an open mind since this was a Stag Do, and the guys were hell bent on making it a good one. No holds barred etc. etc. They could come along, but they'd better be prepared to join in. In truth it was a bit of a cross between a dare and a date for Luke and Graham.

  Little did they know?