"Oh, there are two of these old mannequins here! I had thought there
was only one - well, I think there's enough paint," said the
flamboyantly dressed young man who entered ignoring the out of order
sign. Two older guys in drag blue janitorial uniforms followed him
pushing a cloth bin on wheels.
"I thought there was only one, perhaps one of the sale people found it
and put it here. That stock room is full of old displays," said the
oldest guy.
"Well, disassembled them and put the parts in the bin. Then take them
down to the workshop and then we'll paint them and hm, maybe a little
bondo first, I'd like the redone mannequins to be more abstract
looking," the window dresser said as he twisted Connor's head on his
mannequin neck until there was a snapping noise, and then he lifted
Connor's head off and taking an exaggerated basketball player's stance
he tossed Connor's head into the bin.
Connor wanted to scream. It hadn't occured to him that as a mannequin
he might me disassembled and what had that guy said about bondo and
paint? He could feel hands on his decapitated body. The other
mannequin's head landed in the bin next to Connor's an arm followed.
He wasn't sure if it belonged to him or the other mannequin. Connor
couldn't dare try to change back at this point, he might end up a
bloody pile of body parts. He would have to wait until he was
reassembled.