The ferris wheel, part 2

From her vantage point atop Ned's pleasure wheel of death, Nancy spied a distant sparkle. It was gliding slowly across the distant skyline, like a buffalo wing cart at last call. Nancy's excitement boiled as her first mystery began unraveling before her. The sweat glistened on her perfectly sculpted bust, she wondered why Ned's smile had recently become so malicious. It was becoming increasingly apparent that Ned was not going to turn the wheel. "Think, Nancy, think!" she thought. "I've got it! I'll use my ILSM super-seduction powers to place Ned under my spell! He will have no choice but to do my bidding. I only hope I can remember all my training . . . " she thought, as she sucked in her checks and placed her index finger on her lips.

The distant sparkle gliding slowly across the distant skyline reminded Nancy all too much of a buffalo wing cart at last call. Before becoming a ILSM, Nancy devoured buffalo wings, cigarettes, cheap beer, cheese curds, and free popcorn. For a brief moment, Nancy realized that, while Ned had given up his legal career, their breakup meant loss for Nancy, as well. Buffalo wings had been replaced by cocaine and cigarettes were replaced by cocaine-laced cigarettes. Popcorn, cheap beer, and cheese curds were, like Ned's dreams of sleeping with pancake chefs, simply memories of a life once lived as a mere average woman with adequate breasts. Now, her breasts were perfectly sculpted, but at what expense? Before she could continue to consider the consequences of the sacrifices she had made, she finished her cocaine and followed it with a drag from Ned's flask. She could feel the cocaine and vodka enter her bloodstream. She was happy.

"No time for sentimentality now." Her tolerance for pain and her stamina at their peak, Nancy performed the recondite "Black Mamba," a move so seductive and enticing that it cannot be publicly described in full detail. Suffice to say, she was upside down for a while and exposed one of her dirty pillows. Ned's expression changed from one of hatred and contempt to one of boyish wonderment. Within minutes, however, Ned was twitching and foaming at the mouth. Nancy had applied the move to hard, something every experienced ILSM knows to avoid at all cost. Ned could develop serious brain damage, but what was worse (considering that Ned's brain had already been severely damaged by pointless, redundant, and contradictory PR studies), Ned would be unable to rotate the wheel. "No choice now but to strut down." Fueled by alcohol, cocaine, and nicotine, Nancy climbed on the first girder and, with hand on hip, began walking down in superb super model form, defying all rules of gravity.

When she safely made it to the pavement below, Nancy realized that the consequences of nicotine, cocaine, and vodka, which she had recently feared were destroying her life, were actually the exact stimulants required to make such a brave and sexy stroll down the side of the ferris wheel. Those who have perished on the ferris wheel in the past, Nancy realized, had simply not been privy to the stimulant mixture that she would soon market as NCV. Nancy only had three and a half hours before sushi, but there was no time for rest or pre-sushi primping: she had a panda to save, and NCV to market. Nancy checked Ned's pulse. Finding a weak, but stable pulse, Nancy was unsure about what she had hoped: did she wish Ned had died from the Black Mamba? She did not know. What she did know was that she needed to check on her ILSMs at the zoo. There was a panda in distress. Nancy patted the rain-worn cushion residue from her leather coat and hopped on her motorcycle.