Cat in a hot pink Pursuit

Consulting Room Four twenty minutes late, prepared to make surly obeisance.
    Not to worry.
    Savannah Ashleigh was striding away on the elliptical walker in the office, the TV tuned to the soap operas and a Cosmopolitan magazine splayed open on the machine’s control panel. Apparently, each judge had been allowed to import whatever they wanted to their offices.
    Well! Temple was dying to see at what level, speed, and calorie-burning rate the woman was operating. However, the Cosmo issue effectively hid everything but its own provocative contents.
    Savannah Ashleigh’s shiny spandex workout attire hid nothing. She had a Hollywood body, that was for sure, narrow but rounded. Her Dolly Parton hair bounced in one platinum blonde wave as she glided along at a rapid Pace, her face delicately sheened with sweat.
    Xoe leaned against the door and applauded, slowly.
    That threw Savannah out of her rat race. She shook her head, batted her eyelashes, and observed her observer.
    “Are you my ten fifteen?”
    It was now 10:35, but Temple nodded. (Xoe was a shrugger, not a nodder, so Temple had to step in for her from time to time.)
    Reluctantly flipping the magazine shut, Savannah pressed her forefinger to the control panel and the green level control vanished... not before Temple noticed it was solid all the way to the top. Savannah was a serious strutter.
    She eyed Xoe for the first time. “My, you’re a grim little thing. Pastels and brights, hon, are what you need. And, of course, someone will talk to you about that hair.”
    Temple was willing to bet Savannah’s hair was about as natural as her own.
    “Now sit down in that cute little chair, and I’ll sit at the desk and we’ll go over your program.”
    “I have a program?” Xoe slouched into the seat indicated. “That makes me sound like a computer.”
    “Don’t we wish. Program out the calories and carbs, program in the veggie shakes and distilled water.”
    “That’d give me the shakes, all right.”
    “Now.” Savannah was paging through the contents of the standard hot pink folder. “Hmmm. Could lose ten pounds. Definitely a hair and face makeover. I’ve been through your wardrobe—”
    “When?”
    “When you were out of your room, dear. Such trash. If it doesn’t chime, clatter, cling, or clash with every other color in your wardrobe, except for black, it isn’t there. We’ll be looking for something light, floral, and airy for you.”
    “Are you recommending a scent or a wardrobe? ‘Cuz your recommendations stink.”
    “A very good point, uh, Ex-oh-ee. A signature fragrance would be a fine addition to your wardrobe. I don’t ¿link any other girl has mentioned a stinking problem, so you would be ahead of the competition. On that matter.”
    “It’s Xoe-ee.”
    “Oh. As in ‘Zoo.’ Well, you might consider a name change while you’re at it. Perhaps... Daisy.” She looked up to register Temple’s expression. “Or perhaps... not. Anyway, I’ve ordered some darling things for you, which should fit whether you work off those biggy, piggy ten pounds. Or not.”
    Savannah rose, dabbed at her forehead with a floral hand towel, and escorted Temple to the door.
    That was when some poor ‘Tween or Teen Queen candidate who had actually been left alone for a moment began to scream to wake the dead.
    Savannah stood paralyzed in her tracks, hands over her waves of hair-sprayed curls.
    Temple sprinted out into the hall, not only beginning work on the biggy, piggy extra ten pounds but to find out whether a contestant had killed or been killed, or had just broken a fingernail.



Exercised to Death

    The screams continued, leaving no doubt that most of the contestants possessed well-developed pairs of lungs, not to mention any superstructure above them.
    Mariah was three steps behind Temple, and Temple never thought for a moment of telling her to stay back for her own good.
    They were both committed to serving time in what was quickly becoming a House of Horrors and deserved to know what was going on firsthand.
    Temple and Mariah were apparently closest, for they burst through the double doors to the indoor workout room and found Silver standing hunched just inside the doors, screaming her heart out.
    What riveted her gaze was instantly obvious.
    A blood-spattered figure in a hot pink leotard lay slumped over an elliptical walker machine... the very kind of machine that Savannah had been putting through its paces, or vice versa, just moments before