Lip Service

by Randolph O. Mann

Straight out of the blue, Linda stepped off of the escalator, stormed straight across the office foyer, and marched directly into Leslie Kirkelmier’s office. Judging by the snap in her step and swing of her hips, this impromptu executive visit had all the earmarks of top-level managerial exigency. Dumbstruck by such a break in routine the whole office staff sat in silent amazement and monitored the Executive Manager’s focused resolve as Linda negotiated the earth-toned terrazzo tiles of the outer office. All except Randy, he stayed peculiarly immersed upon his morning ritual of secretarial assignments while rifling through his chaotic desktop.

Slamming the interior office door closed totally established the private nature of Linda’s off the cuff dialogue. These ladies were obviously not to be disturbed.

Leslie scolded, “It is about time you got here!”

Linda counseled, “Leslie, based upon the obdurate tenor in your last text-message, I have clumsily excused myself from this morning’s very important pre production Summer-Marketing Strategy Secession AND grudgingly rescheduled my weekly Media Briefing AND awkwardly postponed my appearance at Executive Assembly AND, resentfully terminated my luncheon reservations. THIS HAD BETTER BE GOOD!”

“It is! I have his ass right here in this manila envelope.”

“You have whose ass?”

“Randolph O. Mann’s fat ass, that’s whose ass.”

“Leslie, I have already seen that ass, and you are wrong. Randy is in possession a rather tight little ‘tushy.’ A fact that I am reluctantly sharing with you only to illustrate how a view of Mr. Mann’s posterior OR even a gander at Wentworth Miller’s buttocks for-that-matter, would never warrant interrupting my morning schedule in this fashion.”

“But Linda, you don’t understand. I am holding hard evidence in my hand..."


“...that will establish ‘tenable grounds’ for Randy’s termination!"



“Then why wasn’t I informed sooner? I have been waiting a very long time to witness the day of reckoning!"

Leslie haughtily applied her pearly white teeth at the top right-hand corner of the commonplace envelope before ripping the camel-colored packet open, followed by an elfin wink. Leslie expelled a puff of air into the newly created paper aperture spreading the parchment wrapper apart. Then arrogantly inverting the envelope she produced ... nothing?

A vexing quizzical ambiance filled the space beneath the papery opening as both women gazed in disbelief at the stilted desktop where nothing materialized. Awkwardly, Linda questioned “Is that ... it?”

A frantic whack firmly applied to the base of the sachet ultimately accomplish Ms. Kirkelmier’s desired effect, as a limp multihued synthetic sheath fell upon Leslie’s ink blotter.

“Yes!” After taking a second to compose her satisfied excitement Leslie smugly continued, “Linda, what we have here is ‘Exhibit A’.”

“Exhibit A?”

“Correct! To the ‘street wise’ this little item is known as a ‘Party Hat’ AKA, ‘Rubber Johnny’ and ‘French Tickler’. Does ‘Raincoat’ ring a bell, sweetheart? Come on Linda, you are a woman of the world, it's a prophylactic, for heaven’s sake!”

“EeeOooou! Throw that away!”

“No way! This is State’s Evidence.”

“Gross is what that is and if you won’t throw it away, I will!”

Leslie immediately held up her hand in a halting gesture, opened the top middle drawer of her hand-me-down mahogany workstation and riffled among the mishmash of junk until she hauled out a number-two pencil with which she lifted the limp ‘jimmy’.

“Linda, I cannot permit anyone to touch this Love Glove!”


“We do not want to contaminate the DNA!”

“DNA? EeeOooou! Leslie please, drop that nasty thingy into the trash!”

“Not a chance, if we do not find DNA inside this ‘dreadnought’ I am sure DNA can be pulled from the dribble on the outer surface.”

“Leslie, that is a disgusting thought.”

“Damned straight it’s disgusting! After all this ‘battle helmet’ has been ringed with lipstick.”

“Let me see that! Who on earth would draw lipstick-circles around a condom?

“Not Who, Linda, the question is WHOM?”

“What are you suggesting?”

“Linda, we are in luck! Randy was careless this time and I believe we have got him! There are numerous hues of lip gloss encircling this overstuffed ‘nodding sock’, implicating others.”

“Overstuffed? You can say that again. I have seen his bits-and-pieces and Randy would defently qualify as overstuff... Did I hear you just say, implicating others?”

“You sure did. Linda, I am afraid we are dealing with the aftermath of a good old fashioned Rainbow Party.”

“Old fashioned? Need I remind you, Leslie, there is nothing dated about anything associated with T. Winston, INC. and what party? And why wasn’t I invited?”

Holding the flaccid ‘flunky’ at eye level for better scrutiny, Leslie condescendingly schooled her naive boss upon the finer points of fellatio in today’s knotty contemporary social climate. “Ensemble blowjobs, darrrr-ling, and you were not invited to the randy office party because the host was sure you would never ‘cum,’ Linda.”

“Come? Just think of the professional exposure and the opportunity to network socially within the clannish Fashion Industry Community. Don’t be silly, we at T. Winston, INC are very progressive, of course I would have gone to their politically correct cell-- e—bra—tion... Did you say ensemble blowjobs?”

“Yes, Linda they are the LATEST thing! All of the talk shows are raving about them. These Rainbow Parties, as they are called among those in the know, have taken the whole Amway concept to another level, honey. Imagine, if you will, participating in a Tupperware Party and a sleepover at the same time, sort of a coeducational Avon-lady’s night-out.”

“How does that work?”

“Well, each amenable participant applies a different shade of lipstick to her lips and the enthusiastic revelers intermingle, the males attempting to collect as many different-hued halos as they are capable of.”

“How do they pull that off?”


“Oh My GAWD!”

“If I were to venture a guess the crimson band on this ‘venus shirt’ is comprised of Rouge Volupté Silky Sensual Radiant Lipstick SPF 15, by none other than Yves Saint Laurent. Then if I am not mistaken Wishroll LAColors Lipstick, Purple Passion is next. The middle section of this ‘gentleman’s Jerkins’ is decorated with bands of L'paige Blue Aloe Vera Lipstick and Stargazer Green Glitter Lipstick, respectively. Finally, located at the summit near the nipple-reservoir of this second-hand ‘tour guide,’ I spy Frosted Gold High Lustre Lip Gloss.”

“I am getting my sinking feeling, again.”

“Relax Linda, the good news is...”

“How could there possibly be good news associated with a second-hand ‘trojan’?”

“Well, the good news is, all of the cosmetics on this particular ‘safety tool’ can be found featured in our winter catalog, indicating how this would have to be an in-house crime, thus narrowing our group of suspects.”

“Leslie, it’s difficult to imagine how something this tainted could happen on my watch.”

“Technically the watch was mine. but the command liability is rightfully all yours.”

Sarcastically Linda cajoled, “And thanks for clarifying that, Leslie. But for the life of me, I cannot imagine how Randy pulled this off.”

Mockingly elevating the ‘cadet’ covered pencil for emphasis Leslie methodically theorized, “I would suppose this is the sordid residue from another of Mr. Mann’s peculiar deceptions. Most likely involving several of the prettier, and by this I am inferring ‘impetuously challenged’, members of the T. Winston, INC modeling surfeit. Whereby, Randolph will be rewarded handsomely for delivering physical verification of the ladies’ tongue-twisting acquiescence to Mr. Mann’s depraved whimsy before the Shipping Department is willing to surrender their hard earned wages.”

“Leslie, Randy is only a suspected skinner. He has never been implicated as participating in deviant sexual misconduct, this makes no sense...”

“Linda? The evidence alone speaks volumes then when coupled with Randolph’s villainous history and ‘our’ girls' established penchant for disrobing. I am afraid it is only a simple task of connecting the dots.”

“Speaking volumes? That is IT! You have just hit it right on the head, Leslie! Get Randolph in here and we will get the straight scope directly from the ‘whores’s’ mouth.”

A quick flip of the intercom toggle switch connected Leslie with the desk of her personal assistant. “Randolph? Would you come into my office, please.”

Randy innocently replied, “Yes Ms. Kirkelmier. Shall I bring a pot of Darjeeling and the tea service?”

Linda interrupted from across the mahogany desk “Randolph, just get your fat tush in here, NOW!”

“Yes ma’messs.”

In very short order, Randy quick-stepped through Leslie’s personally embossed entryway where he was formally asked to secure the door, protecting the confidentiality of the moment, prior to making his athwart crossing of the office. Once standing across from his bureaucratic administrators Leslie triumphantly arrested the curiosity of her iniquitous job-related adversary, by brandishing the bright yellow writing implement from which was flying the aberrant ‘hazmat suit.’ “What do you have to say about THIS?”

A guilty smile exploded upon the very concerned visage of Mr. Mann before he announced, “There IT is! Thank Dawd! I should have figured a couple naughty little girls like you two would have absconded with this article.”

Then self-consciously smiling while wobbling an accusatory finger, Randy continued his light-hearted scolding, “Shame on you two.”

Linda exploded. “Shame on us?”

Randolph reached across the hard wood desktop, snatching the vibrant ‘wrapper’ from its plumed perch before coming back with, “Yes Ma’am! I must confess this was ‘A Good One! You two gals sure had me going there TOO! I was in a fret all morning believing I had somehow mislaid this irreplaceable little prize.”

Leslie added, “Prize indeed! That, Mr. Mann, would be the State’s Exhibit A.”

Unfurling ‘The Goalie’ and lifting it to eye level Randy assiduously retraced his steps in the direction of the recently bolted outlet all the while attentively examining the ‘willie warmer’ from manifold angles before high-handedly commenting, “I don’t think so.”

Linda ordered, “Come back here mister, and bring the garlanded ‘Hoody’ with you! I am very confident Independent Security, the T. Winston, INC Human Recourses Department, and the local District Attorney’s Office are all going to want to see that ‘bullet proof vest’.”

Such threatening comments stopped Randy dead in his tracks with his free hand on the doorknob. Randy boldly concurred, “I am sure they would, but they will just have to wait until the summer catalog is released like everyone else, or they will have to fight Uncle Thergood for it.”

Leslie explained, “Randy, I can assure you there will be NO need for fighting. Instead I believe there will be a court authorized warrant issued instead.”

Linda added, “Leslie, tell him we know about his rainbow celebration!”

Randy inquired, “What are you gals talking about?”

Leslie arrogantly testified, “Your disgusting little Rainbow Party, Randy. We know all about it!”

Again Randy questioned, “What disgusting Rainbow Party are you talking about?”

Linda blurted out, “The one with ensemble blow jobs, that’s what Rainbow Party, Randolph!”

Still puzzled, Randy asked, “Assembly fellatio? Why wasn’t I invited?”

Linda opined, “That’s what I said!”

Leslie officiously objected, “Invited? Our sources have you serving as the host of an impromptu sex orgy where ornamental oral souvenirs have been collected upon that condom from naked T. Winston, INC fashion divas.”

Linda concurred, “Randy I am afraid that you are SO, going to jail!”

Attempting to calm the frayed nerves of his superior, Randy enlightened, “Relax Linda, I am not going to jail. What I AM going to do is suggest that you two women have been watching way too much Ophra.”

Both women exploding in unison, “Too much Ophra?”

“That is right, ladies. The Rainbow Party is an urban legend designed to feed upon the puritanical fears of the American society. Ophra’s unfortunate television exposé only served to amplify the myth into mainstream awareness where it has taken on a bogus facade of authenticity. Ladies, you both have been duped. Rainbow Parties are just a figment of over-active imaginations. A hoax! Just like the exceptional sexual powers associated with Green M&M’s and Mountain Dew.”

Leslie screeched, “Then how do you account for the lip gloss we find encircling that spent ‘cock sock’?”

“A smooth-skinned zucchini.”

“A phallic vegetable?”

“Actually, fruit of the earth!”

Linda questioned, “You expect us to believe that you simply wrapped that nasty condom around a common creeper-gourd, prior to hoodwinking our T. Winston, INC fashion models to accept the aforementioned garden produce orally?”

Randy mockingly interrupted, “I prefer the term, 'courgette', and I only wish it was that simple, because that would have save me the expense of buying them lunch. Instead I was ‘obliged’ to drop well over seven Benjamin’s, including gratuity, at Benihana’s where lamentably the aforementioned ‘well traveled’ summer squash, in due course, joined a savory stir-fry entrée.”

Leslie interrupted, “Wait a minute you two, this little mendacity has a couple of holes in it.”

Randy countered, “Not according to the guarantee on the condom's wrapper.”

Refusing to recognize Randolph’s mockingly conflicting observation Ms. Kirkelmier carried on, “Randy, I am NOT totally stupid!. You didn’t need the Fashion Diva’s help; you simply could have applied the lipstick yourself.”

“That’s exactly what I thought too, except that a particularly troublesome ‘Hyperactive Gag Reflex’ forced my hand necessitating the exploration of insensitive workplace banter eulogizing the storied oral dexterity of the T. Winston, INC modeling crew, which has Travesty reputed as possessing enough ‘orifice-e-al talent’ to rework a cocktail cherry stem into a square knot, but that is a whole other story.

"Any ways; I invited a selected assortment of the nastier ‘artisans’ to a complimentary Japanese style luncheon. After a few rounds of sake the ladies relaxed, a challenge was bandied about, then one thing led to another and before I knew it a rubber covered vegetable was being passed from giggling girl to giggling girl as they each proudly demonstrated their extraordinary sword swallowing prowess. Resourcefully I provided complementary samples of lip-gloss that once applied served to identify each of the various ladies’ efforts and this bifrost condom was conscripted as scorecard. In due course, it was universally acknowledged that Travesty had retained her title as Fellatio Queen and the defensive sheath was summarily liberated by me before the celebrated smooth-skinned summer squash met an untimely end at the business end of Ginsu knives.”

Dumbfounded Linda sputtered, “But, but, but...

Leslie took charge. “But nothing. Randolph O. Mann, I, Leslie Kirkelmier, am making a citizen’s arrest! Hand over that PENIS HAT!

In his own defense Randy replied, “I can’t do that Leslie, this Condomus Maximus is the featured center piece for an inspired recreation of last year’s very successful Saint Valentine’s Day cross-category merchandising campaign that Uncle Thurgood expects will be completed in this morning’s photography session. So if you lovely ladies will excuse me I really must take this English Riding-Coat and be on my way.”

Leslie screaming for theatrical effect, “STOP THAT MANN! He is under arrest and your little Prophylactics TOO!”

Sarcastically disappointed, Randy opined, “I had so, so, hoped we could do this the easy way, considering that I am NOT the litigating type, but if you two insist, I assure both of you excessively passionate ladies that either my attorney OR I will be in touch before the end of work today!”

In a resigned tone Linda advocated, “Leslie, just let it go!”

The End