Page 27 of The County Fair Queen

"Well, he has impeccable taste. I have to give him that. I have a very lovely face—or so I've been told."

"Yup." He licked his lips. "Why do you think I'm still so enamored with you?" He smiled, opening his mouth to continue, but whatever he was planning on saying died on his lips when the doorbell rang, and the sound caused a chain reaction. Rivers jerked his hand away and stood up, rushing for the door. In the kitchen, Fudge oinked, attempting to exit by throwing himself against the crate walls. Clearly, he wasn't the pick of the litter, because the gate wasn't even latched. As Fudge continued frantically trying to escape his easily-escapable pen, somewhere upstairs, a child screamed. In the hallway, Brenda/Carole's heels clicked against the hardwood floors as she ranted about walking into absolute pandemonium.

"I don't know what the hell is going on here," she said. "But I can assure you, I don't like it." She came to an abrupt halt when she spotted me wincing in pain and rubbing the back of my head. "We're not going to pretend you have a brain tumor for a storyline, so you can chill with the theatrics, Meryl Streep." She spun on her heel and stomped toward the rocking chair beside the fireplace. Darting her eyes in a disastrous Bermuda Triangle of sorts, they shifted between the seat, the coffee table, and Rivers himself. "Aren't southerners supposed to be gentlemen? I'm not sitting half a mile away from the men of the hour."

He grabbed the chair and brought it closer, setting it beside the coffee table. "Is this better?"

She eyed the chair before nodding her approval and plopping down. Unfortunately, Rivers wasn't fast enough, and the chair's arch rocked forward, smashing his foot.

"Son of a gun!"

The second the arc rocked back, he was able to remove himself from the chair's line of fire, and he clunkily hobbled back toward the loveseat. He plopped down, crossing his leg over his thigh and rubbing his foot. Without thought, I swatted his hand away and pulled his bare foot onto my lap, gently rubbing it in hopes of alleviating a bit of his pain. He'd comforted me and my aching ass earlier. The least I could do was rub his fractured foot.

"I can feel the heat from here. I knew this was a good idea." Brenda/Carole laid her messenger bag on her lap and unzipped. Once opened, she pulled out three manilla envelopes. She chucked one directly at Jordy. Thankfully, Preston was able to intercept it before the gargantuan packet of papers took out an eyeball. She tossed a second packet to me, but my hands were busy introducing themselves to Rivers' foot, and the unnecessarily heavy file crashed into the center of my forehead.

"Why?" I cried. "You could have just handed it to me. We're less than three feet away."

"Where's the fun in that, cupcake?"

"You okay, Firecracker?" Rivers said, placing his hand on top of mine, fusing me to his foot.

"About as 'okay' as your face looks," I said.

"That good?"

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, snapping a picture of his agonized expression before holding it out for him to see.

"Well, at least we're broken together."

"Love is in the air," Brenda/Carole sang. "Alright, I'd like you to open your packets to page one. We don't have much time, so I figured we could take turns reading aloud."

"Jesus on the cross, can you just summarize it?" I said.

"My assistant spent five hours compiling this today. I think the least we can do is…" She sighed, flinging her own packet overher shoulder, sending papers raining down. "Fine. You win, but I expect you to take that damn paperwork home and study it like scripture. Both of our careers depend on it."

"Sure," I said, planning to do nothing of the sort.

"Phillip and I were speaking earlier," she announced to the room. "What we've captured so far has been great. The town setting is stunning, and we've got ourselves an eclectic cast." She pointed at Aunt Lurlene and winked. "You and your wigs? Perfection. More of that, please." Jordan was next to receive a finger aimed in his direction. "You too, kid. Your sass knows no bounds." Finally, her attention landed on Preston. "But you? Listen, you're giving me nothing. You just sit there sulking half the time, and when you're not pouting, you're just all-around off-putting. I'm going to be honest with you; you've been a real thorn in my side."

"The hell are you talking about?" he grumbled. "I ain't even been on camera."

"Call it a wild guess. You've got this general sense of unlikability, and the viewers will be able to smell it from a mile off. I would have recast you already, but the only person that even closely resembles Phillip is the pilot who flew us in, and Phillip eye-fucks him anytime he's around. Trust me, our viewers love a good queer romance arc, but I'm going to go out on a limb and say they're probably going to draw the line at pseudo-incest."

"Oh my God, I do not," I groaned, hiding my face in the closest barrier I could find. Unfortunately, it was Rivers' chest, and I jerked my head away just as quickly as contact had been made. "Hands to yourself, Rivers Rivera."

"You leaned against me," Rivers said, smirking. "Maybe you ought to keepyourhands toyourself." He eyed me up and down. "Or you can stay where you are. Your call."

"So…" Brenda/Carole said. "Full disclosure: this is my first foray into reality television. I'm sure I'm probably crossing hundreds of boundaries by even suggesting we stage scenes, but I'm even more sure that I don't give a damn. We need this show to be a success."

"What do you mean, staging scenes?" Rivers said.

"Phillip and I came up with a solution, but we'd like all of your input. A meeting of the mindless, if you will."

"What the hell did she just say?" Preston said, sulking like a petulant child.

"Language," Aunt Lurlene scolded. "You've been getting really lax with that mouth of yours around your new boyfriend, Preston. Don't think I won't wash it out with soap while he watches."

"Boyfriend?" Preston said.

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