The new Brenda

“GET ME THAT FOOTAGE OR YOU’RE FIRED!” Cindy screams throwing her script at the assistant’s face. “I am sick of these limp stories! This is the Cindy Owens show! The Cindy Owens show people!” stamping heeled foot she rages, “I need more from you,” her screams turn to coos, “Okay, sugar?” she grabs her assistant’s face he’s a young man, but everybody fears Cindy. Everybody. “I need you to get me that footage,” the last words a threat.
He gulps. This boy is shaking in his cheap shoes. He’s never felt this way and he doesn’t like it, but he swallows deep. “H-h-how? T-th,” he swallows hard once more, “they said no media I-”
Pinching his chin between her thumb and index finger she smiles, “Oh honey is that all? You go back and you tell them Mrs. Owens sent you. Can you do that sugar? Bring back the footage and,” in a loud whisper, “keep your job.”
Brett remembers Brenda and knows his dick won’t save his career. He’s not gold, after all. “Yes ma’am. I’ll return with the footage,” he turns quickly to get started, but before he gets away-smack.
Cindy’s palm finds his ass, “That’s a good boy,” the sound of her voice is humiliating, purposely so. Then she squeezes, he swallows, hard.Taking a deep breath he ignores the gasp from one of the female grips, and he shoots hard angry eyes at his colleagues assuming glances. He keeps walking. Head high, don’t let’em see you cry.
Then Cindy orders, “Move people! Back to work we’ve got a B&E to cover-get that cellphone footage up and running.” He can hear the room forgetting him. Just like they forgot Brenda, but unlike that bitch, Brett’s coming back-with or without the footage.