Reflecting back on this whole NaNoWriMo process, I am unsure if it helped me to be a much more focused writer. It's one of those things that I'll figure out in the future. For those of you who don't know, I did finish the novel with 55313 words. With 11 chapters, it is quite the compact novel. Of course, it's a rough draft and will undergo revision and a search for the perfect cover design. Chapter one needs work as it doesn't necessarily compel the reader, and I may add a whole new chapter as a "chapter one" for this purpose. I absolutely do not plan on even looking at it for at least two weeks or possibly a month, which puts it pretty much into the new year. What I love about the story is that it demonstrates that Jimmy Miller isn't my one and only franchise. Hello, Ruthie McCall. This NaNoWriMo story is not as much of an allegory of my life as is Jimmy Miller. Very thrilled about it.
"Please...please don't do this to me!" Ellie figured her arms were now broken because they lay over her head and she couldn't move them. They weren't restrained or anything like that. Nothing made sense to her as to how she even came into this room. More than that, there were a hundred other women laying scattered about, all stiff like her. Perhaps they were dead. The man in the white lab coat believed himself to be a world famous physiologist and doctor, and all he did was babble over and over about making her over to appease the manager. He was also 100 feet tall, as far as she could tell.
"Don't do what? You must be presented as perfectly as possible. The manager is expecting nothing less." He waved a razor blade above her face as he spoke. "Only...the manager is so cheap. He says, 'We can't afford scalpels, so use your razor.' And I tells him, 'It'll scar her all up. Your pretty new product all put back together like a jigsaw puzzle.'" He cried out, "He won't pay for the proper equipment! You see!" Two inches from her eyes the blade reflected the overhead lighting and she could tell it had seen better days.
Ellie questioned his reference of her being a product. "What do you mean by 'product'?"
"You stupid dumbbell. You're the product he has to present to his one particular customer with lavish tastes. You see," he set down the razor and found a hand mirror to highlight her face to her. "You see this nose. Nostrils are too large, so I have a procedure where I just slice and stitch. But...the manager expects me to use a simple needle and thread, only, I took the flesh colored tone. Shh..." he held his finger to his lips. "It's a secret. The manager already wrote me up two times before. And, I gotta take some off your lips because the customer is ornery and she...just, you don't want her to be ornery. You got some fat lips for a girl. Let's make them thinner. We gotta do something about your ears. They belong on an elephant. Oh, and..." The doctor located a hammer in a tiny compartment above her. "We gotta raise those cheekbones. I'll just shatter them and reset them. And, I gotta stretch your skin up, too."
In his white coat he pranced away to bring a formal flight attendant dress and hat. Several other dresses, slacks, grub clothes, and a revealing thong Bikini he excitedly shook beside her. "You'll be in the flight attendant dress because that's the number one thing the customer wants to be for some odd reason. Oh, and we've got shoes. High heels and whatever a lady needs when she goes out to attract her mate." Thinking out loud, he mumbled, "I guess the jogging suit can stay in your wardrobe. Plus, you'll need a boob job 'cause the customer doesn't like droopy boobs, but I'm trained. I know what to do and how to fix your flaws."
At first, the doctor tugged to get that jogging suit off of her, but it wouldn't budge, especially the top part. "I'll just cut it off you." The man produced fabric sheers and began slicing down the cuff of one sleeve to the orange athletic outfit she wore.
"No, don't. Please...I don't want you to look at me naked."
"Ma'am...I'm a doctor. But, look at the fat on your arms. A little bit of lypo will take that all off. You're not stopping for doughnuts while you run, do you?" He only laughed because there really wasn't any fat on her. Before he got all these gals ready for the customers, he liked to have his fun, too.
"No." His insults so angered her and she'd do something about it if her arms weren't immobile.
Snipping down the side to the top part on the left side, he did the same to the right and he could now pull off the upper portion of her suit. "Wow. No bra. You're brave to go jogging like that. Once we stiffen those puppies up, they won't be so bouncy when you jog. If the customer lets you jog, that is." He continued on the bottom portion which was more challenging due to the elastic waistband and a thick tie that jogging pants customarily have. Next, came her underwear. "Good news, we have a budget for anesthesia, but do you really need it. I mean, you're just plastic, you know."
Ellie looked at her body, her head movements were greatly limited, and she remembered how she came in here. The man pretended to slice her in hopes of giving her plastic surgery, but he never really did anything. It was all make-believe. As for her boobs they weren't droopy at all. Stiff and plastic and no nipples attached.
Suddenly, another 100 foot giant man burst into the room with a white beard and a business suit that said Manager Kris Kringle. "Hey...c'mon. Get her packaged up. We've got millions of these to process and we're competing with the Chinese."
The man's lower lip protruded in pity for himself and the realization his fun was over and the boss was hounding him. "Yes sir, Mr. Kringle."
Mr. Kringle had turned to leave, but then pivoted back around. "Ah, Steve...I'll make sure you get an Ellie doll of your own. But...usually girls play, oh, never mind. Just...get back to work."
Steve worked on cramming Ellie into her flight attendant suit, packaged up all her other accessories, and shoved her into a box. Next, he tossed her onto a conveyor that would transport the toy to her next destination in the factory.