Behind The Camera

Morning Makeover Madness

"Trish, I need you!" spoke a desperate voice at the other end of the phone.

"Wha…Who is this?" Trish sits up in her bed, eyes still closed shut. She holds her cell up to her ear.

"C'mon, Trish. How can you possibly not recognize my voice by now!" the caller answers. Trish rubs her eyes with her free hand, then opens them up slightly.

"Dez…? DEZ?!" She shouts out, eyes opening up wide now. She quickly quiets herself, noting the time on her alarm clock. 4 AM. "…Dez…" she says in a hushed, but very malicious tone. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Dez shrugs, not that she could see, of course. "I dunno. I kinda lost track after two…" he trails off. It's silent for a few moments, until Trish speaks up.

"Dez…What in the elephant tractor pineapple do you want at this unholy hour?" Trish mutters, incredibly peeved. Doesn't he know that she has to get up for work in a few hours?

Actually, he probably does know. He probably also knows that she's not going to show up to work.

"Well…?" she continues.

"I need a test dummy to practice with, and you'd be perfect for the job!" Dez proclaims with excitement. More excitement than anyone should have at this hour.

"What. Did. You. Call. Me?" Trish growls, her tone getting a tiny bit louder, and even more hostile.

"Uh…Uh…Uh…Uh…Uh…" Dez tries to quickly think up a way to calm her down. "You see…I'm trying my hand at make-up and hair styling!"

"Wh-" Trish starts.

"-And," Dez cuts Trish off before she can say anything insulting, "I thought you'd be a perfect test subject. The dum-erm…The fake head I have here just doesn't seem to cut it."

"Why?" Trish questions, the bellicose tone in her voice still ever-present. "Because you think I need a make-over?" She decides not to ask about the reason he happened to have a fake head.

"N-No. Of course, not…I-I-I just thought that uhm…" Yeah, he did it now. Put himself in an incredibly tight spot. C'mon Dez, fix this, he mentally urges himself. Without thinking it through, he squeaks out something he thought he'd never say, "Because…Because…Y-you're gorgeous!" Not that he thought it wasn't true.

Trish falls silent, completely dumbfounded. Weirded out? Certainly. Flattered? Supposedly. Sleepy? Incredibly. She figures that Dez probably is too, and that he tends to spit out more nonsense than usual at this time of night. After a few moments, she manages to respond. "I know I am. But anyway, what's my incentive?"

"I'll pay you twenty bucks," Dez states flatly. Why can't she just do me a favor for once?, he wonders.

As if hearing his thoughts, she responds, "Dez, I'm not one to do favors, especially at four in the morning. You better give me more than a lousy twenty, chico."

"Did you just call me a chicken?" Dez asks, utterly confused.

Trish lets out a very exasperated sigh. "No, that's not what 'chico' means, and Dez - don't change the subject."

"I'll pay you fifty bucks, then!" the red-head offers.

"Deal. But it better not be fifty male deer," Trish warns, knowing Dez very well.

"Psh, c'mon Trish. I'm not an idiot. Where would I find fifty deers? If anything, I'd get mooses…" Dez chuckles a bit, messing with the hair on the fake head in front of him.