Trudy turns around and sees the strangest thing she's seen all day: a small, thirteen-year-old girl with a clipboard. She stands about 4'10" tall, looks to weigh somewhere between 80 and 90 pounds (86 to be exact, but Trudy isn't anywhere near good enough to guess that just now), and has blonde hair that she keeps in a ponytail. The girl wears thick horn-rimmed glasses and not a whole lot else: her clothing consists of a large t-shirt that reads "Producer's Kid: Do Not Eat" on the front and back, a pair of pink sneakers, and a thong. She also carries a clipboard that she constantly refers to.
Trudy is aware of how long she's been staring at the girl, who she has to admit she finds quite attractive, and tries to break the silence.
"Um, hi, there," she says. "I'm Trudy. I'm supposed to start filming today?"
The girl looks Trudy up and down, smiles, and checks something off on her board. "And you're early," she says, her voice very mature and intelligent for her age. "That's good. Did you remember to bring three days worth of clothes?"
"Yes," Trudy says, gesturing to her suitcase near the couch.
"Excellent," the girl says, marking off another item on her board, which she now lowers to her side. She strides over to Trudy and holds her hand out (and up). "My name is Denise Swallows. I'm the youngest daughter of our CEO and Executive Producer, Margaret Swallows, and I will be supervising you today. A pleasure to meet you."
Trudy shakes Denise's tiny hand, the girl's confidence and authority throwing her off balance. "Likewise," she says. "What do you want me to do with my luggage?"
"Bring it with you and follow," Denise says. "One of our other performers got a little ... enthusiastic with her co-stars yesterday, so we'll definitely need you to spend the night here, and possibly longer. I hope that's okay."
Trudy nods.
"Excellent." Denise turns around and motions for Trudy to follow. She does, wheeling her suitcase behind her, and cannot help but stare at Denise's shapely little rump, which the girl displays expertly as she sashays down the hall. Denise continues talking as she escorts Trudy through the office areas of the studio. "We will pay you for extra work done, of course."
"Oh, that's good, but I wasn't ..."
"You also might have noticed my shirt," Denise says, pointing to the lettering with her pen.
"Yeah, I was wondering ..."
"Well, I'm sure you know our studio does a lot of shows with younger, smaller girls. And some of our ... major performers do tend to get carried away and eat more than their fair share. Do you follow?"
"I ... think so." Trudy's mind flips back to the magazines she saw, the posters she just inspected, all the videos she's watched. The way Denise is talking, it sounds more and more like the "special effects" she spent this morning praising weren't special effects at all, but actual, honest-to-god cannibalism. Could that be true? Does Denise expect her to actually eat people alive? "So you're completely off-limits, then?"
"Only for eating. If you want to fuck me," Denise glances over her shoulder and gives Trudy a wink, "I'm very much open, but only after you're done shooting today."
Trudy blushes and stammers. "Oh, er, well, I ..."
Denise can't help but giggle. "Oh, you're just adorable! I make the hiring decisions here, and I don't hire women I wouldn't want to fuck. Your friend Samantha? She's a demon in the sack. We fucked on my tenth birthday. Best. Birthday. Ever."
Trudy stares ahead, taken aback by, well, everything she's just heard. She's just been hired to eat people alive, on camera. And the thirteen-year-old girl in front of her not only just propositioned her for sex, but also had sex with her best friend when she was ten? What will happen if Trudy doesn't want to have sex with Denise? More important, what will happen if she doesn't want to eat people, or if she can't? She's watched videos where women have swallowed young girls whole: there's no way she can do that, right?
"And here we are," Denise says, stopping in her tracks. "Just put your stuff down and we can get this party started!"
Where are they?