The ambiance of the upscale Italian restaurant is distinctly romantic. Low lighting and soft music fills the wood-panelled space, and each table has its own lit candle to further set the mood for the many couples currently dining.
One such couple, sitting towards the entrance, appears to be in the middle of an emotional conversation.
“But…I don’t understand, Harry” the woman chokes. “I thought things were going so well…”
She looks dressed for a special occasion, wearing a cream-coloured mini dress, the fabric contrasting nicely against her tanned skin, hugging her curvaceous body. Her raven hair is styled into a low bun, pulled back behind a gorgeous face, with full lips and bright, glistening emerald eyes.
Her date, on the other hand, looks as if he has just gotten out of bed. He’s wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a t-shirt that is straining against his oversized stomach. He has on a pair of dirty old sneakers and his hair is unkempt, as though he hasn’t showered in days.
Harry just shrugs, taking another bite of his pasta. “Sorry, Sofia. I’m just not really feeling it anymore.”
Sofia’s lower lip trembles, as a few women at adjacent tables look on sympathetically and also, perhaps, in befuddlement.
“B-but…” she sobs, dabbing the corner of her eye with her napkin. “I love you!” She places a hand onto his, leaning forward.
Her boyfriend - apparently now ex-boyfriend - looks uncomfortable. He gently pulls his hand back and replies “Look, Sofia, this has been fun. But you always wanted to move too fast. I’m just not ready to settle down.”
She sniffles again. “But, I’ll do whatever it takes! I’ll cook and clean, I’ll do all the laundry. I’m happy to!” She pleads. Lowering her voice, she adds “I saved myself for you, Harry. You were my first.”
Harry looks even more embarrassed. “Shh, babe. Keep it down” he whispers.
The guests at nearby tables aren’t doing a very good job of hiding their eavesdropping; their own conversations have mostly fallen silent. Several of them appear bewildered, and all of them look uncomfortable.
“What the hell is she doing with him, anyway? He couldn’t even be bothered to put on a clean shirt?” A snarky-looking woman quietly comments to the man beside her.
“Please, Harry!” Sofia bawls, with a pleading look in her eyes. “Just come back home with me and let’s make love one more time. You’ll remember why we’re meant to be together, I promise!”
Harry shakes his head, appearing flustered. He takes a napkin and dabs at a bit of sauce that had fallen on his already-stained shirt, before tossing it back on the table.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. You can’t just throw yourself on top of me to solve every problem. There is such a thing as too much sex, Sofia.” he replies.
That statement gets many raised eyebrows and disbelieving head shakes from the male patrons listening in.
“Look, no hard feelings or anything. Dinner is on me” Harry continues, pulling out his wallet. He drops some bills on the table in front of the despondent Sofia. “Take care of yourself, all right?”
Without another word, he stands and pushes his chair underneath the table before departing.
Sofia sits in silence, not bothering to fix her smeared mascara. The waitress comes over and gently says “I’m sorry, honey. But you’ll be okay. Plenty of fish in the sea, right?”
The dark-haired beauty sobs. “But he’s perfect” she says. “He’s everything I ever wanted in a man.”
With a look of confusion and uncertainty, the waitress replies “Um…well…just give it time, sweetheart.” Unsure of what else to say, she adds “Would you like the rest of your meal to go?”
Minutes later, Sofia leaves the restaurant, leaving behind a stunned group of onlookers.
“What the hell was that?” A woman asks, leaning over to her husband. “Was he rich, or something?”
He shrugs, shakes his head, and replies “I have no idea. That guy is nuts.”
His wife gives him an unhappy look, and he quickly changes the subject.
ONE HOUR LATER
BEN’S APARTMENT
Ben lies back on his couch, while the stunning Sofia straddles him, her arms wrapped around his neck. Her dress is bunched up at her waist, and the top of it is pulled down, exposing her bare chest. Her breasts bounce in rhythm as she thrusts her supple body up and down. She bites her lip, eyes closed in bliss. The dried mascara on her cheeks is the only remnant of her recent heartache.
“Harry was an idiot” Ben groans as her groin presses into his. “He didn’t deserve you.” He gropes her chest with one hand, causing her to squeal.
She lets out another soft cry, grinding her hips against him. “Ohmigod” she moans. “Tell…tell me…tell me how hot I am.”
“You are so hot, Sofia” he whispers into her ear, causing her to cry out in pleasure. “You are going to be my dirty little secret…”
The lewd statement causes her to thrust faster, unintelligible moans and wails escaping her pouty red lips.
“I…I can’t…I’m going to…” she whimpers. Ben feels her thighs tremble in ecstasy, and as her screams fill the apartment, he grasps her body and holds her down tightly against him.
After a few long moments, she collapses onto him, moaning softly as they both try to regain their breath. Then, suddenly, they both break out into happy, satisfied laughter.
Sofia, her hair a tangled mess, gently eases herself off of his lap and drops next to him on the couch.
She lets out a contented sigh and says with a smile “Well, that was something…”
Ben reaches over and cups her cheek. “Amazing. This is really turning into a thing, huh?” He asks.
She adopts a quizzical expression and tilts her head to the side. “What do you mean? We just met.”
He grins and plays along. “Oh, nothing” he replies, pulling up his pants. He looks down at his watch and continues “Well, this is awkward, but you should probably get going. Liz is supposed to come over soon.”
The tanned beauty pouts. “But…you’re going to leave her, right? I love you, Ben. We belong together.”
Ben nods earnestly. “I promise. But until then, we need to keep this between us, okay?”
She nods, attempting to smooth out her messy hair. “Fiiiine” she relents. Leaning forward, she presses her naked chest against him and whispers into his ear. “But something tells me she already knows.”
She breaks out into a fit of giggling and sits back on the cushion, so her bare ass is resting on her heels.
Ben laughs along with her and places a hand on her bare thigh. “Good one, babe.” After they settle down, he asks “So, can I expect to see Sofia again sometime?”
The dark-haired woman nods enthusiastically. “Definitely. She’s fun. And hot.” she replies, cupping her chest in her hands, with a fiery look in her eyes. “Even if she’s a little crazy and clingy. Quick to attachment, afraid of abandonment. It all stems from insecurities related to her childhood…I don’t know, I think I jotted a few things down somewhere” she adds with a grin.
“Oh, how very thorough!” Ben teases, rubbing her leg.
It’s amusing for him to hear her outline the fictional woman’s persona, but it’s also…thrilling. To know that the sexpot sitting next to him, talking about herself and laughing, isn’t real. Sophia is nothing more than a remarkably realistic hollow puppet that Liz could bring to life by putting it - her - on.
“Sorry I made you take off yours, but…” the fake woman trails off, nodding to the corner of the room.
The empty, nude husk of “Harry” lies crumpled on the floor, its face scrunched together hideously. Its oversized abdomen can still be seen through a mass of hollow, twisted limbs.
Ben laughs again. “I understand. He’s not exactly your type” He pauses. “I wonder if my ego will ever fully recover from seeing how much you enjoyed that monster between Samuel’s legs” he muses, referring to the handsome alter-ego he’d donned weeks prior.
Sofia giggles again and hits him playfully on the shoulder. “Oh, please. Am I also supposed to be offended by how much you like these?” She asks, lewdly grabbing her chest again.
He whistles innocently in response, then says “Fair point. So, why don’t I get Harry over there put away while you take her off?”
Suddenly, her demeanour changes completely. Her eyes widen in terror as she snaps her head around to the deflated man-suit, and attempts to cover her mostly-nude body with her hands. “Oh my God! Wha-what have you done with my Harry?!” She shrieks, voice trembling convincingly.
Ben’s eyebrows raise at her instant shift in attitude. Ever since they’d started dressing up as other people, they’d both been honing their acting skills. But Liz had begun to take hers to a new level, and sometimes it could unsettle even him.
She snaps her head back around and looks at Ben with a trembling lip, eyes filling with tears. “Please…” she pleads. “Just let me go!”
Speechless, Ben can only stare at her, until her face breaks out into a wicked smile.
“Sorry” she professes, wiping her eye. “I couldn’t resist just one more scene.”
“Wow” Ben replies. “You are getting scary good.”
She grins and hops up off the couch. With practised hands, she reaches behind her neck, and he hears the telltale sound of the suit’s tiny zipper being pulled. Her gorgeous face appears to loosen slightly, and when she grabs the top of her dark mane and tugs it forward, it starts to scrunch and crumple. The fake skin strains against the adhesive holding it in place, eventually yielding and peeling away. Sofia’s button nose collapses into her lips as they, too, lift away. Her hollow eye sockets gaze at Ben as her entire face snaps free with a rubbery squelch, flopping down to her prosthetic chest.
Liz’s smiling face is revealed, covered in a sticky-looking substance. Her reddish-brown hair is tucked tightly underneath a black wig cap. She grasps the mask by the hair, lifting it up. It gapes at him, its hollow cheeks quivering in her hands.
“So, did you have fun with her?” she giggles, gently shaking the empty face.
Ben smiles. “You know I did” he replies. “But we do need to watch how much material we’ve been using for your little ‘side project’. Meeting the deadlines for our contracts is going to be pretty tight this month…”
“Aw, just one more kiss” Liz chuckles. She leans down and presses Sofia’s soft, floppy lips against his, and he turns his head, laughing.
“That is not the same” he says, staring right through the beauty’s eyes. He brushes her tangled hair away, and Liz lets go of the mask and lets it dangle from her neck. "Seriously, do you want me to see if my parents can chip in a little? It's no big deal. Just a little extra to give us some cushion."
"That's sweet, but we'll be fine! I've got a line on something I think could really take us to the next level. Trust me" Liz replies.
Grinning, she turns with a wink and walks towards his bedroom. Not having fixed her dress, Sofia’s backside is fully exposed as she struts away, and Ben can’t help but follow it with his eyes.
Then he stands and walks to the corner, leaning down and lifting the fleshy mass that is Harry up from the floor by its armpits.
“Damn, you really have got some weight to you” he mutters, hefting the rubbery suit into his arms. “Let’s get you squared away…”
He drags it over to an open case, it’s hollow feet sliding on the carpeted floor.
LATER THAT DAY
Ever the diligent worker, Chelsea is typing on her laptop, preparing some updates for the company website. Every minute or two, she leans over and takes a sip from the straw sticking out of her highly caffeinated drink.
A knock on the door draws her attention away from the screen. With a puzzled look on her face, she gets up and walks over to the entrance. She peers through he peephole, and her heart rate increases when she sees the two police officers standing in the hallway. There’s a man and a woman, both dressed in dark navy uniforms.
What the hell? She wonders, hoping everything is all right.
She opens the door and greets them. “Uh, hello, officers. How can I help you?”
The female officer replies “Hello, miss. My name if Officer Rivera, and this is my partner, Officer Turner. We’re going door-to-door asking the other tenants if they saw or heard anything suspicious last night. The jewelry store in suite 141 had a break-in.”
Chelsea’s eyes widen, as she confirms the names on their badges. Officer Rivera appears intimidating, underscored by her stern facial expression and tight, businesslike ponytail. Her partner appears to be already glancing over Chelsea’s shoulder, trying to get a peek into the room behind her.
“Oh, that’s awful” Chelsea professes. “I know the owner, and she’s so nice. But I’m sorry to say that we didn’t hear anything. We all left by six o’clock last night.”
Officer Rivera nods, jotting down a note on her pad. “And, when you say ‘we’, I assume you mean the other employees?”
“Yes, Liz and Ben are the owners. We all left at the same time and grabbed some dinner.”
“I’ll need their contact information, please” the woman states, continuing to write.
Chelsea is about to agree and provide it, when Officer Turner’s eyes widen.
“What the hell is that?” He asks, pointing over her shoulder.
Chelsea turns and sees the object that caused his alarm. The upper torso of an elderly woman, fake, of course, lies on a table along the wall of the workshop. Her matted grey hair hangs down around her wrinkled face, and a pair of yellowish eyes stare vacantly off into space. A withered arm hangs somewhat haphazardly off the side of the table, and her bare chest is indecently exposed.
“Oh, that’s just a prop!” Chelsea replies, nervously. “We’re a special effects company. That’s supposed to be for an independent film production next week.”
The officers both appear quite startled, unused to seeing such a graphic display.
“We’re…going to need to look at that” Officer Rivera declares, placing her notebook in her pocket.
“Oh, um…okay, that’s fine” Chelsea responds, stepping to the side.
The two officers enter the room and make their way to the disturbing “body”, glancing around the space at the various items in production.
They reach the table and Officer Turner leans over, inspecting the prosthetic woman.
“This is…fake?” He inquires, incredulous. He reaches out and pokes “her” wrinkled cheek, recoiling when her face and lips squish authentically.
Chelsea takes a moment to be proud of their work. “Totally. We’ve developed a bunch of new materials and techniques here. It’s state-of-the-art.”
“Impressive” Officer Turner comments, lifting the fake woman’s limp, dangling arm. “I see we don’t need to open a murder investigation, then” he adds, revealing a sense of humour.
He then moves away from the table and begins exploring the rest of the room. Numerous body parts lie in different stages of production, sitting deflated on workbenches or propped up on stands.
Officer Rivera returns to Chelsea and pulls out her notebook again. “I believe we were getting the others’ contact information?” She asks.
“Oh, right” Chelsea replies. She provides the officer with both Liz and Ben’s cell phone numbers.
“And, do you know where they both are now?” Rivera inquires.
“No” Chelsea responds, shaking her head. “They were out working on a project, but they should be back soon.”
Rivera pulls out her phone. “Well, maybe we can hurry them along.”
She types in Liz’s number and places the call on speaker.
“Hello?” Liz answers.
“Liz Murphy?” Officer Rivera asks.
“Speaking…” Liz replies, sounding uncertain.
“My name is Officer Rivera with the local police department. I’m here at your business investigating a break-in at the jewelry store in suite 141 yesterday evening. Would you and…” she pauses to check her notes “…Ben be able to come down and answer some questions?”
There’s a brief pause on the line. “Oh…uh…” Liz mutters “I…I guess we can be there in like ten minutes?”
Chelsea’s eyebrows furrow. Why does Liz sound so nervous? She wonders.
Officer Rivera appears to detect the tone as well, and gives a slight frown. “That will work for us” she confirms. “We’ll see you then.”
She disconnects the call and places the phone back into her pocket.
“So, how long have you been in business?” She asks Chelsea, continuing the interview.
Over the next few minutes, the officer asks the young woman some general questions. Chelsea tries to get a read on Rivera, but the woman is all-business.
Then, her partner calls out her name and nods towards the open cabinet he’s standing in front of. “Get a load of this” he says, gesturing inside.
“Oh, is that the ‘zombie stripper’?” Chelsea asks, trying to lighten the mood. “I know that’s a weird one, but if the client pays…”
Officer Rivera joins her partner and peers inside. Her eyebrow raises and she looks back at Chelsea. “Is there something you want to tell us?” She inquires, sternly.
Before Chelsea can reply, the officer reaches inside and pulls out a sparkling, diamond necklace, and holds it up for her to see.
“W-wha…what is that? I have no idea how that got in there! That is not ours!” Chelsea exclaims, panicking.
The officers don’t look convinced. Turner tilts his head to the side and replies “Is that so?” He opens the cabinet the rest of the way, and Chelsea can see that the small organizational bins inside are filled with similar jewelry. She gasps, and her hand flies to her mouth.
“Running low on money? Needed a quick, easy way to keep the business open? We’ve seen it before…” Rivera states, setting the necklace back inside the cabinet.
“N-no! We wouldn’t…I mean, they wouldn’t do that!” Chelsea pleads.
“We’ll wait for the others, but then you’re all going to have to come down to the station for questioning” Turner says, taking out his phone to snap some pictures of the cabinet interior.
Rivera walks back over to Chelsea. The glint of her badge and the various items strapped around her waist have now taken on a much more intimidating presence.
In a calming, mildly coercive, tone she inquires “Is there anything you want to tell us about the other two who work here? If you say you didn’t know about this, maybe you can shine some light on them?”
Speechless, Chelsea can only look back and forth between the heaps of shiny jewelry and the stern female officer. “I…I…” she stammers.
Rivera frowns. “Look, you can get a lawyer involved if you want, but I promise that won’t look good for you.”
“Wha-what? A lawyer? I haven’t done anything!” Chelsea implores, feeling a sense of dread.
“Suit yourself” the female officer replies, removing a pair of handcuffs from her hip. “Turn around, please. Hands behind your back.”
“Oh my God, you’re arresting me?” Chelsea gasps.
Then, the phone in her hand buzzes, and she prays it’s Liz or Ben offering some kind of explanation. She looks down and reads the screen.
GOTCHA!
“W-what the…hell?” Chelsea splutters. She looks up and finds that Officer Rivera is grinning wickedly back at her.
“Hope we didn’t scare ya too bad, Chels!” the officer pipes, her entire demeanour softening instantly.
Chelsea’s head snaps over to Officer Turner, who is also grinning.
“Oh, you jerks!” Chelsea exclaims, as the two phony officers burst out into laughter.
“Rivera” takes off her hat, setting it on the table. She reaches around and tugs her hair tie loose, and her dark mane falls around her face. She swishes it behind her shoulder and places her hands on her hips, striking a flirtatious pose in her otherwise imposing uniform. “So, did I pull off the sexy cop?”
Chelsea punches her in the shoulder. “You bitch! You scared the crap out of me!”
The imposter giggles, and her “partner” rejoins the two ladies, holding one of the sparkling necklaces. He places it around the female officer’s neck, then clasps it and says “You know, you really pull this off, partner!”
She adopts a happy look on her face and places her hands on her chest. “Aw, that’s so sweet! It’s beautiful!” She flutters her eyelashes at him, then gives him a kiss on the cheek. “And it’s totally real, right? Like, it definitely wasn’t taken from my sister’s costume jewelry collection?”
“Oh, no. Only the best for you, sweetheart!” the fake male officer insists.
Chelsea rolls her eyes and smacks “Officer Turner” on the arm as well. “Very funny, Ben!” She says. “I hate you both…” but her mouth shows a hint of a smile.
Giggling again, Rivera hugs Chelsea and says “This is going to be so good! If someone who works with our disguises every day can’t see through them…”
Even though she knows it’s actually her friend, it still feels odd for Chelsea to be hugging a total stranger so intimately.
“But won’t people just assume I was playing along?” She inquires.
Turner smiles. “If people assume that, they’re also going to have to admit that you are the best actress in the world. Wait until you see the video" he says, gesturing to an inconspicuous camera set atop one of their shelves.
“Wonderful” Chelsea replies, with another eye roll. “I’m going to come off like a total chump.”
“Hardly!” Rivera states. “No one would be able to tell. That’s the idea. We’ve really almost perfected these things” She says, pointing to her own face.
It’s true. Chelsea inspects the phony woman, admiring the detail she’d come to expect. Smooth, olive skin and almond eyes mark her fictional Hispanic ethnicity. Her sharp cheekbones reinforce her steely persona, and Chelsea can see that Liz must have even taken the time to properly shampoo and condition the mask’s hair, based on its silky texture.
Then, Chelsea has a thought. “Hey, how were you able to do the phone call? You were both right in front of me.”
Rivera grins. “A little pre-recorded trickery. There’s an app for everything.”
“Clever” Chelsea admits. “And just whose idea was this?”
The female imposter beams and points at herself. “Me, duh. We all know this video project is my baby” she says. “By the way, did you like the ‘suit yourself’ line? Get it?” She asks with a trademark giggle.
“Yeah, yeah” Chelsea replies. “Well done, Liz. You got me. Now take them off. Isn’t there some law against impersonating an officer?”
Turner smirks. “I’m sure there are exceptions for theatrical performances, right? And it’s not like we were really going to arrest you…”
The phony officers proceed to disrobe, discarding the various pieces of their bogus uniforms. While Chelsea had been totally convinced initially, upon closer inspection, she can see that they are all clearly props, including plastic pistols, handcuffs and toy radios.
The two imposters now stand in only their underwear. For “Rivera”, that consists of a simple navy bra and panties, which hug her toned body. “Turner”, on the other hand, is wearing only a pair of briefs on his lean, muscular frame.
Rivera nonchalantly discards her bra, revealing a pair of perky, modest breasts. She cups them in her hands and scrunches her nose adorably.
“This suit really squeezes my boobs” she complains with a pout.
“There is one way to fix that…” Chelsea says, rolling her eyes and returning to her desk.
Rivera turns away, and her fingers prod until they find the nearly undetectable seam running down her back.
Chelsea remains focused on her computer, but she can hear the rubbery stretching sounds and Liz and Ben remove their disguises. Having gotten used to it by now, she doesn’t bother looking up.
“Whew, that’s better” she hears Ben say, and she raises her eyes from the screen.
She jumps when she sees his upper body on top of “Officer Rivera’s” slender legs. He’s grasping her face by each side of the seam, and it gapes directly at Chelsea with empty eyes and crumpled lips. Her hollow arms dangle limply towards the floor, swaying gently back and forth.
Seeing the stunned look on Chelsea’s face, he looks over at Liz, who is currently sliding her arm out of “Officer Turner”.
“That’ll be twenty dollars, babe” he chuckles, as she rolls her eyes.
“You were…?” Chelsea implores, wide-eyed.
Ben laughs. “I bet Liz that I could impersonate her, impersonating someone else. And, since you bought it…”
He lets go of the back of the mask and the fake woman’s deflated body falls down against his legs with a thwack, her face and limbs contorting with the impact. Her silky mane splays across the tile floor, as Ben holds out his hand towards Liz expectantly.
At the moment, she’s laughing while seated, tugging the suit’s leg down her own. Officer Turners’ body flops around limply as she retorts “Does it look like I have my wallet on me right now?”
Ben frowns. “Fine. Later, then.”
Chelsea just shakes her head. “You two are nuts” she says, with a smirk.
Five minutes later, Ben and Liz are both dressed in their regular clothes, putting away the elements of their disguises.
Chelsea glances over at Officer Rivera lying on the table. The impeccable nature of their work still amazes her. The fake policewoman had seemed so intimidating and real. But she’s really just an empty suit, now staring vacantly up at the ceiling. With her pretty face all scrunched together, and her intimate areas immodestly on display.
Liz closes a cabinet and says “Well, I have to get out of here. I’m meeting my sister soon.”
“Okay, babe” Ben acknowledges, giving her a quick kiss goodbye. “Tell her I say hello.”
“Later, Chels!” Liz chirps with a wave, heading towards the door.
“See ya” Chelsea replies. Then, she calls out after her friend “I don’t want any more surprises!”
“No promises!” Liz retorts, laughing on her way out.
Her eyes return to the deflated woman-suit, and Ben catches her staring.
“Wanna see something…cool?” He asks with a grin.
Her eyebrow raises. “Cooler than that?” She replies, pointing.
His smile grows wider, and he nods his head towards a tall cabinet. She follows him over to it, and he pulls a set of keys from his pocket. Chelsea notices that the cabinet is labeled “Misc. Accounting Stuff”.
“Can you keep a secret?” He asks her.
“Depends…” she replies, her eyes narrowing.
He laughs and says “I think you’ll be on board.” He selects a key and continues “Liz has been quite creative coming up with these sketch ideas. So I decided to think up one of my own.”
He inserts the key into the apparently locked cabinet and turns it. “What if...” He whispers conspiratorially, pausing for effect. “What if, in the next one, Liz is the star?”
Ben throws open the door dramatically, and Chelsea gasps.
Hanging inside is another suit, this one with smooth, pale skin. Auburn locks frame a pretty, impish face with vacant eye sockets and parted lips. A familiar face.
Liz’s face.