The Ring of Time
You decide that you definitely might "miss" something if you went off slowing time to see how hotties reacted to being suddenly naked (or the like) in the mall, especially with all the uber-suburban slobbies around here. Yeah, you shudder to think of it, too, but decide that maybe if you wait long enough that maybe the Swedish Bikini Team might simultaneously show up to try on skimpy negligees. (You always WERE a dreaming sap.)
You make your way, under cover of stopped time, into the ceiling tiles above the dressing rooms, removing a small corner only large enough to see out into all of the rooms at once. You start time and wait for what seems like HOURS, seeing only the occasional really fat woman coming in to change. First, you ignore your rumbling stomach, and then you begin to ignore your common sense, developing an sickening fixation on the plumper female form.
Perched precariously on weak ceiling tiles in a lying position, you eventually give in to the soft temptations of gentle slumber, napping and no doubt dreaming of Reubenesque naked women (you weirdo)...
You awake with a start as your body's reflexes inform you (too late, as usual) that you have slipped from your perch on the slim metal supports onto the weak ceiling tiles which absolutely CAN'T support your weight. You crash headfirst out of the ceiling and into a wooden seat that instantly breaks your neck and kills you.
As luck would have it, the woman that finds you is Cindy Crawford, who just happened to have been shopping incognito that day. Too bad you're too dead to see her!
You make your way, under cover of stopped time, into the ceiling tiles above the dressing rooms, removing a small corner only large enough to see out into all of the rooms at once. You start time and wait for what seems like HOURS, seeing only the occasional really fat woman coming in to change. First, you ignore your rumbling stomach, and then you begin to ignore your common sense, developing an sickening fixation on the plumper female form.
Perched precariously on weak ceiling tiles in a lying position, you eventually give in to the soft temptations of gentle slumber, napping and no doubt dreaming of Reubenesque naked women (you weirdo)...
You awake with a start as your body's reflexes inform you (too late, as usual) that you have slipped from your perch on the slim metal supports onto the weak ceiling tiles which absolutely CAN'T support your weight. You crash headfirst out of the ceiling and into a wooden seat that instantly breaks your neck and kills you.
As luck would have it, the woman that finds you is Cindy Crawford, who just happened to have been shopping incognito that day. Too bad you're too dead to see her!
