Stephen climbed out of the truck and walked over to the entrance to the garage. He peered outside into the cool night air.
“They’re all in the canteen”, he called back. “Four of them. They’ve got the radio on, they can’t hear a thing in here. Drinking beer by the look of it. And not one of them looks a day over 25.
“Hey, one of them has come out and is coming over. Come and look!”
His mother strolled over.
“Oh yes. I see what you mean about the beer. That one won’t be able to walk straight for hours.” She smiled again. Jeff groaned inwardly. He’d seen that sickly sweet smile before.
“Or perhaps he won’t be walking straight ever again.”
Stephen took a step backwards and, as he did so, he knocked over a tyre that had been left by the entrance. This dislodged a stiff cardboard object. He picked it up and chuckled. Staring out at him, holding her ample breasts in her hands with long flowing blonde hair only slightly smudged with oil, was Miss February. Stephen had a quick check of Miss March and Miss April too, before Madame Illusia looked down and tutted.
“Those boys really should know better then to get on the wrong side of me. But no – they don’t fix my truck, they drink too much and now – they leave pornography lying about for their customers to find.”
Jeff could hardly believe that this was the same woman who had just put a young man through excruciating pain in a long slow transformation. And now she was disapproving of a few pairs of breasts on display! From torture to the moral high ground with no sense of how incongruous her behaviour was! Jeff wondered momentarily if Madame Illusia had ever considered following a political career.
“Quick, we need to disguise ourselves,” she commanded.
“What about the boy?” pointed out Stephen, gesturing at Jeff.