Sitting on her bed, legs crossed and idly flipping through a fashion magazine that Tammy had dropped off this morning, Sheila's mind kept coming back to her conversation with Arden. She couldn't understand what was happening. Why did he keep showing up in her dreams, and what was the significance of the medallion? Dejected she tossed the magazine to the side and turned on the TV. Maybe the zombie box would distract her.

  Flipping channels she tuned into the local UHF independent station that was running their news. These guys were pretty radical and were almost as entertaining as watching The Daily Show. Turning up the volume she listed to them rattle on about the presidential race for a while. These guys looked for any excuse to jump on not only the candidate but also the networks coverage of the event. Her ears perked up a little when Zig Zag's picture came on.

  "And who doesn't know about the latest happening of our favorite Sex Star, Zig Zag of ZZ Studios fame." Bringing up a graphic from the cover of Zig Zag's last movie, "Our favorite tramp was getting the raw deal from the powers that be today until her guardian angel, or should I say avenging angel," cutting to a clip of Arden trying to get at the reporter during his interview, "kicked some ass today as he defended Zig Zag from the medias charges of being nothing short of a mass murderer out on an early spree."

  Cutting to an image of the two anchors from the station he continued, "Frosty and Flake were of course their colorful selves today unable to pass up any obvious innuendo's they could toss into the mix, although this time one must wonder just why this guy is so hot to defend the woman who hit him. Most folk would be talking to a lawyer looking for a six or seven digit income bonus, but not our man."

  Cutting to a freeze frame of Arden snarling when the reporter tried to take the microphone. "Reports from the hospital say that our boy has amnesia and can't remember anything before bumping heads with the Mercedes. If this is true, then we have a real life gentleman folks. If this guy is for real, than he's indignant not because he's got a thumper for Zig Zag, or even hoping for a little skunk funk on the side, but because he's seeing someone getting the shaft," giving the camera a sly grin, "outside of the movies that is."

  Cutting to a picture of Zig Zag coming out of the police station, "And what of the Gestapo's arrest and STRIP SEARCH of our soiled heroin in this little drama? According to sources in the justice department, the action was ORDERED by none other than Uber Furer, err. District Attorney Daniels Kahnsman as the first phase in his attempt to get rid of the 'Riff Raff.' Sources inside Attorney David Leery's camp inform us that a rather substantial civil suit is in the makings that might make Der Uber Furer think twice about pulling this kind of stunt again"

  Graphics faded and they zoomed back in on the commentator, "This is one spectator that can't wait for the next chapter in this exciting drama. We haven't had a good mud fight in this town since the election that got Der Uber Furer elected to his post. I for one am cooking up some popcorn and waiting for the show to unfold."

  Turning the TV off, Sheila shook her head with a little smile. That guy didn't pull any punches, but then again at least he was showing all sides, even if it was in an off-handed fashion.

  Laying down and pulling the sheets up she turned off the lights, rolled over and went to work on going to sleep. She'd be getting out of this mausoleum tomorrow and couldn't wait.

  Once again, Sheila was standing in the strange bedroom. Looking around she once again spotted the chair, bed and finally the mirror. Walking again to the mirror she saw her reflection. This time fighting the terror of the dream she examined the face closely. Looking at the eyes she could see that although the shape was different, they had the same piercing green color that she was used to seeing in the mirror each day. Turning from the mirror, she was drawn to the door. As she stepped out of the door, she saw before her a farm with a large barn, a pen for some animals along with a road passing in front. Walking out towards the road she became aware of a presence behind her. Turning she saw a massive creature towering over her. It had grayish green skin, two large fangs protruding from its upper jaw and a large shock of gray fur upon its head. Its ears were similar to what she saw on herself, only they curved upwards to a point as they flared out from the skull. Striking quickly it reached towards her...

  Waking with a start Sheila could feel the blood pounding through her body, adrenaline flowing in an effort to assist in her flight, a flight that had only been a dream.

  Getting up she walked to the bathroom. Running water in the basin she quickly washed her face in cold water, the shock at clearing her head. Looking in the mirror she studied her eyes, the image she had seen in her dream almost overlaid on reflection in the mirror.

  'He's not the only one that's gone nuts around here is he?' Licking the last of the excess water from her muzzle she proceeded back to bed thinking 'I must have hit my head harder than I thought.'

  Laying down, she rolled over onto her other side and tried to get back to sleep, hoping that the dream would not visit her again.

  As Philippe finished up trimming and buffing the nails on my feet, err... claws on my paws? Whatever, after finishing up he stood back from the bed and with a very theatrical imitation of Dr. Frankenstein said "Arise my creation, arise!"

  "Sorry Philippe, but the doc would kill me if I started walking around."

  Waving a hand, "Pish tosh on the doctor. All I need you to do is stand up for Philippe so Philippe may finish the shaping of your fur. You do not need to go anywhere, just lean on the side of the bed."

  What the heck, I was getting a little tired of laying down anyway. Standing up, I held onto the railing until the dizziness passed. Now vertical, I remembered that I needed to take care of other priorities.

  "Hey Philippe, help me over to the bathroom first will you? I need to use the facilities."

  Putting a hand over his mouth, his eyes almost bulged from his head. "Philippe has not let you take care of nature yet? Philippe is most sorry, let Philippe help you." Leaning on him like a crutch, I made it safely over to the bathroom.

  Hobbling inside, I closed the door. Fortunately no gymnastics were required to relieve myself. Pressure abated, I headed back out.

  Standing in the door, Philippe took some small clippers and a comb. Quickly making small adjustments to the length of the fur, he tapered and shaped first my arms, then waist, and finally my legs. Then turning me around he began working on my back. After another fifteen or twenty minutes of standing, I was starting to get fatigued.

  "I'm going to have to sit soon here Philippe. My good leg's getting tired."

  Still clipping, now around the middle of my lower back I heard him reply, "Not yet, Philippe is almost done. Just give Philippe a few more minutes and he will make you perfect!"

  Reaching up over the door, I saw that there was a horizontal bar set in the frame. From the looks of the bars in the ceiling, they were probably to help move patients that were paralyzed. Grabbing the bar, I used it to take the weight off of my leg. Although my hands were now taking the weight, it was somewhat restful just hanging from the bar. Relaxing my back muscles, I felt my spine popping as it uncompressed.

  "Eureka! Philippe is fini!"

  Turning, I saw him rooting around in a large box. Taking out a small square object, about two-foot square, he quickly unfolded it. As the edges pulled the surface tight, it turned into a reasonably good quality full-length mirror.

  As I looked at my reflection, I was stunned. I didn't look anything like I had before.

  The front of my face was now closely trimmed back to the neck and down to the shoulders. On the top of my head he had pulled the fur straight back between my ears and down towards my shoulders. The sides of my head immediately in front and below the ears was closely shaved, yet the fur on my head behind them remained long, almost to its original length. As I turned, sideways, I could see that he had left my shoulders long and combed backwards, so it almost looked like I had pads or epaulets on. The fur on my back was full at the top, but as it tapered down towards my waist, it narrowed to a point on my spine in the middle of my lower back. The lower parts of my arms were haloed in fur, having the appearance almost of a large, bell bottomed shirt. The effect was the same on my legs, with the fur terminating just above the top of my feet. On the front an rear at waste level, he had trimmed it so that I looked like I was wearing a short loincloth. The effect was stunning. I had been turned from a walking mop into a work of art!

  I'm not sure how long I stood there, but I was brought back to reality when I heard the sound of the door opening followed quickly by something hitting the floor. Blinking I looked over to see Zig Zag standing in the doorway, her purse on the floor. Her eyes were wide open, and her mouth hung slack. She just stood there.

  Philippe let out another of those girlish giggles. "You see! You see! Philippe has made you a GOD! You will need the proverbial base-a-ball bat to keep the females off!"

  Not taking her eyes off of me, Zig Zag turned her head to Philippe. "You did this Philippe?"

  Pulling himself up to his best height, he tilted his head back in a posture of triumph, "Philippe has once again created a masterpiece!"

  Eventually blinking, Zig Zag shook her head to clear it. Realizing she had dropped her purse, she recovered it from the floor and stepped in. Walking around me to check it out at every angle, she spoke, almost inaudibly. "Good lord Philippe! I said to make him presentable, not to turn him into cover art for my next project!"

  Looking up at me, she raised an eyebrow, "Anything on under there?"

  Shaking my head, she turned to Philippe. "Once again you have worked a miracle Philippe. How can I ever thank you."

  As he began folding up the mirror he smiled at Zig Zag, "Just make sure to invite me to the filming of his first movie. That and the usual fee."

  Chuckling Zig Zag give him a quick kiss, "Anything you want Philippe. Thanks for the help on short notice."

  Continuing to put away his equipment, "It was no problem. At first I was a little put out at the last minute call, but once I saw what you gave me to work with." Rolling his eyes to the heavens, he kissed his fingers, "I could not have asked for a better canvas."

  As those two were busy patting themselves on the back, I decided to hop-hobble over to the bed. Unfortunately my good leg was a little more tired than I thought, and loosing my balance I started to fall. Fortunately I was close enough to the bed to catch the railing, and avoid a total spill, however the cast on my leg forced my body to twist around and loosing grip on the railing, I was unceremoniously dumped on my rear.

  The only minor problem is that short stubby thing that sticks the back of my ass was in the way.

  Curling into a ball, I rolled over onto my right side and let out a low groan of pain.

  Both dropped what they were holding and rushed over to where I lay on the floor. Trying to breathe deeply, I fought for control of the pain.

  Both of them were busy asking me if I was ok while the pain finally reached it's peak and leveled off. Still breathing hard I managed to grunt out, "Ya. I'm ok. Just give me a minute to get control."

  I heard Zig Zag telling Philippe to ring for the nurse, "NO! Don't. I'll be ok I tell you, just give me a minute."

  As I continued to take deep breaths the pain slowly began to fade. I could tell it wasn't going to go away any time soon, but at least it didn't have me seeing red.

  Relaxing a little I opened my eyes. Both Zig Zag and Philippe were kneeling over me, concern etched in their faces. "I just landed wrong on my tail. It hurts like a son of a gun, but the pains starting to fade."

  Rolling over onto my good knee I inched over to the bed. As I grabbed the frame to leverage myself up, I felt both Zig Zag and Philippe grab my arms to help me up. Eventually I managed to haul myself into the bed. Laying on my face, I pulled the pillow up under my chest and tried to relax.

  As I lay there I felt a hand on my back. It was Zig Zag probing around by my tail. Although it ached, there were no sharp pains. Just as I thought she was finished, she did something just under my tail that I swear almost levitated me off the bed. It didn't hurt, not directly anyway, but the bodies reflex was to pull my tail down, HARD.

  Chuckling, Zig Zag apologized, "Sorry. I wanted to make sure you didn't break anything."

  "And that last little trick confirmed it?"

  Leaning over, she whispered in my ear, "Nope, but it was very educational." Giving my ear a little nip, "For the both of us, I'm sure."

  As I lay there, I listened to Philippe finish packing up his equipment. As he and Zig Zag talked, I tried to relax. That damned trick of Zig Zag's had left me in a rather uncomfortable state. I wasn't about to roll over until I got things back under control.

  After Philippe left, Zig Zag grabbed the chair and pulled it up to the bed.

  "How you feeling?"

  "I REALY wish you hadn't done that," I said with a sigh.

  Giving a sly smile, "That's for not calling me yesterday. Or do you think I had Dave give you that phone just because I have too much money on my hands?"

  "No. But I figured with all the stuff that happened to you yesterday, the last thing that you'd need would be me pestering you."

  Putting a hand on my shoulder she gave it a quick squeeze. "Some how, I don't think a call from my knight in shining armor would have been too much of a bother. I can't thank you enough for what you did yesterday."

  "I can think of one thing that would be priceless." Looking at her, I gave her the most lecherous look I could summon up while doing my darndest to lick my right eyebrow.

  Zig Zag was supprised by my implied proposition. Her face betrayed the dissapointment that she felt towards me because of it. She thought I would be different.

  Before she could answer, I blew her a kiss and whispered in a husky voice, "Would you just PLEASE stop telling people I'm going to be in your pictures?"

  The look on her face was priceless.

  Revenge is a dish best served cold.

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