Words: 3.3k

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  [Wednesday – The Arrival of the Ovens]

  Max and Caroliood outside their rented kit, arms crossed, watg as a delivery truck that looked way too small for their massive ovens pulled up.

  Max squi the truck. "That thing looks like it delivers sandwiches. Not soul-crushingly expensive ovens."

  Caroline, ever the optimist, smiled. "Maybe they're really good at pact pag."

  Max gave her a deadpan look. "Caroline. We bought two ovens the size of small cars."

  As if ohe delivery guy—mid-40s, chewing gum like it rofession—hopped out of the truck, clipboard in hand. "You gals order some ovens?"

  Max tilted her head. "Depends. Did y them in your pocket?"

  The delivery guy smirked and smacked the side of the truck. "Nah, they're in here. Just gotta... you know, maneuver 'em out."

  Caroline cpped her hands. "Great! Let's get them inside."

  The guy opehe back of the truck, and immediately, Max and Caroline's enthusiasm took a nosedive.

  The ovens were in there... barely. Wedged in like a bad game of Tetris, held together with two straps and what looked like pure luck.

  Max took a step back. "Oh, yeah. This screams 'professional job.'"

  Caroline winced. "It's fine! Let's just get them unloaded."

  The delivery guy hopped up, pulled orap, and immediately regretted it.

  The ovens lurched forward.

  Max sprinted away. "Nope! I am not dying for an oven. Not today!"

  Caroline, ever the fearless ohrew her hands up. "WAIT! Be careful—"

  Too te.

  The first oven thumped onto the truck's lift with a dramatiinous creak. The sed one... well, it decided gravity was its enemy.

  It tilted.

  It slid.

  It CRASHED.

  Right onto the pavement. Well, the other one followed it soon enough and there was another crash.

  Silence.

  Max blinked. "...So, do we get a dist?"

  The delivery guy slowly exhaled. "Welp."

  Caroline clutched her face. "Oh my god. Is it broken?! We just spent thirteen thousand dolrs!"

  The guy knocked on the dented side of the fallen oven. "Eh. Should be fihese things are built tough."

  Max pointed. "Yeah? You wanna climb inside ahat theory?"

  Caroline inhaled deeply, smoothing out the pani her face as she pulled out her phone. "Alright, let's not freak out. I'll just call the pany and expiuation like a rational adult."

  Max snorted. "Yeah, that's gonna go great. 'Hello, my oven took a swan dive off a truck, and I'd love a new one free of charge.'"

  Caroline waved her off as she tapped the he line rang twice before a monotone voiswered.

  "Thank you for calling Superior Industrial Ovens & More, where quality meets—"

  Caroli in. "Hi! Yes, so, we just had two ovens delivered to us, and—"

  "—For er support, press one. For sales, press two. For—"

  Caroline groaned and jabbed one. Max leaned in. "Ooooh, yetting into the menu maze. Good luck."

  "Shh!" Caroline hissed as the line clicked. A new, equally bored voice repced the st one.

  "Superior Industrial Ovens, this is Todd, how I help you?"

  "Hi, Todd! So, we had two ovens delivered just now, and one of them, um... fell. Off the truck."

  Silence.

  Then: "Uh-huh."

  Caroline forced a polite ugh. "And I was w what we do about that?"

  Todd chewed on something—gum? His own soul? It was unclear. "Mmm, was it damaged in transit?"

  Caroline blinked. "Well, sidering it was teically still in transit when it crashed to the ground, I'd say yes."

  "Yeah, we don't really cover 'dropped during delivery.' That'd be more of a 'your problem' than a 'our problem' situation."

  Caroliiffened. "I—okay, but your delivery guy is the one who uhe strap, and then gravity did its thing. So..."

  "Did you personally sign for the delivery?"

  Caroline g the clipboard, still in the delivery guy's hand. "Not yet."

  "Then teically, it hasn't been delivered."

  Max's eyes widened. "Ooooh, I like this Todd guy. He's got scammer energy."

  Caroline waved her away and tried again. "Listen, Todd, is there a manager I could..."

  "Ma'am, even if you speak to a manager, our policy states..."

  And that was when Max snatched the phone from Caroline's hand.

  "HEY, TODD."

  A pause. Then, cautiously, "Uh... yeah?"

  "Here's what's gonna happen. Yonna stop chewing whatever you're chewing because I hear it and it's disgusting... yonna put me on with someone who has power, and they're gonna fix this before I show up at your warehouse and bake you inside one of these defective death traps you call ovens."

  Todd sputtered. "Ma'am, I don't think..."

  "Wrong, Todd. You don't think. That's why you work in er service."

  Caroline gasped. "Max!"

  Max ignored her. "You sent us an oven with the structural iy of a paper bag and charged us thirteen grand for the privilege. So, Todd, unless you wao start making calls to every bad review site ahe world your ovens explode on tact with fresh air, yonna fix. This. Now."

  Silence.

  Then: "Please hold."

  Max tossed the phoo the ter with a victorious smirk. "Two miops."

  Caroline gawked. "That was..."

  "Effective?"

  "Rude!"

  Max shrugged. "You say rude, I say results-oriented."

  Two mier, Todd's voice returhis time... meek.

  "Uh, yeah, so... We're sending repts. They should be there in about two hours."

  Caroline gasped. "Really?!"

  "Yup," Todd sighed. "Apparently, there's a 'special escation team' fgressive New York ers.'"

  Max grinned. "Damn right, there is."

  Caroline beamed. "Oh, wow! Thank you so much, Todd, we really appreciate it!"

  Todd sighed again. "I don't get paid enough for this."

  Max picked up the phone. "No one does, Todd. No one does." Click.

  Caroline cpped. "Max, I 't believe that worked!"

  Max leaned back, smug. "Caroline, people don't respond to politeness. They respond to the fear of wsuits."

  ...

  Two hours ter, Max and Caroliood outside their rented kit again, arms crossed, as a new delivery truck pulled up.

  This one was bigger.

  And this time?

  It wasn't just one pum-chewing dude sent to do a ten-man job.

  No.

  This time, they sent aire squad.

  Three men in pany uniforms hopped out, looking alert and terrified, as if someone had personally threateheir paychecks (which, sidering Todd's nervous breakdown, was very likely).

  The lead guy, balding and stressed, jogged up to them, clipboard in hand. "Ladies. We are SO sorry about the earlier, uh… i."

  Caroline smiled politely. "Oh, it's fihings happen."

  Max, beside her, smirked. "Yeah. Gravity happens."

  The lead guy wiped his forehead. "Haha. Yeah. Well. Uh… don't worry, we brought extra manpower to make sure there are no acts this time."

  Max eyed the fuys standing by the trubsp;"So, your pany realized that one dude with a truck the size of a lunchbox wasn't gonna cut it, huh?"

  The lead guy chuckled nervously. "Uh, yeah. We, um… reevaluated our, uh… logistical strategy."

  Caroline whispered to Max, "You traumatized Todd so badly that they restructured their entire delivery system."

  Max grinned. "Good. I'm doing society a favor."

  The crew quickly got to work, this time with the correct equipment... a motorized lift, a dolly, and actual teamwork (who would've thought?).

  Caroline, hands on her hips, sighed in relief. "See? This is how deliveries are supposed to go."

  Max nodded. "Yeah. h drops. No oven fatalities. Just good, corporate panic."

  [20 mier]

  After zero disasters (a miracle), the two massive ovens were finally in pside the rented kit.

  The crew even ed up the wreckage from the previous delivery because apparently, when you terrify a pany enough, they throw in free services.

  The lead guy handed Caroline a final receipt, looking visibly relieved that the job was done.

  Caroline smiled. "Thanks so much! You guys were great."

  Max patted the oven. "And these bad boys better work, or I'm calling Todd again."

  The lead guy paled. "They work. I promise."

  And with that, the crew practically sprinted back to their truck like men esg a war zone.

  Max smirked as they peeled away. "That was fun."

  Caroline exhaled. "Max, I think you just ged Todd's entire career trajectory."

  Max dusted off her hands. "Good. Maybe now he'll try."

  Caroline shook her head and turo their new ovens, beaming. "Alright! Now that we have these babies, we finally get started on our test batches!"

  Max groaned. "Ugh, baking already? 't we have a day off?"

  Caroline shot her a look. "Max, we just spent thirteen grand."

  Max sighed. "Fiiiine. But I'm taste-testing everything."

  Caroline smirked. "Only if you don't set anything on fire."

  Max scoffed. "Pfft. When have I ever..."

  Caroline raised an eyebrow.

  Max immediately looked away. "Okay, fair. But that was oime."

  Caroline rolled up her sleeves. "Let's get to work."

  ...

  The ovens stood in their gleaming, industrial glory, perfectly positioned in the rented kit. Their pristiainless-steel doors reflected the harsh overhead lighting, and the digital trol panels blinked with an intimidating array of buttons.

  Max eyed them with a mix of suspi and exhaustion. "So, what now? We just shove some dough inside and hope for the best?"

  Caroline, already flipping through a thick stack of papers, didn't even look up. "No, Max. We have to read the manuals first."

  Max groaned. "Ugh. Words."

  Caroline shook a pamphlet at her. "These are not just 'words.' These are instrus that ensure we don't blow up the kit."

  Max squi the booklet in Caroline's hand. The title, Superior Industrial Oven Model X9200: Operations, Safety, and Warranty Guide, rinted in bold, joyless font. Beh it, in even smaller text: Warning: Improper use may result in severe injury, fire, or death.

  Max snorted. "Well, that's reassuring."

  Caroli reading, flipping pages with arming focus. "Okay, so first thing's first, we o calibrate the temperature settings a up the self-ing cycle."

  Max plopped down onto a stool. "Oooor… we skip ahead to the 'make delicious cupcakes' part."

  Caroline shot her a look. "Max. We just spent thirteen thousand dolrs. We are reading. The. Manual."

  Max sighed dramatically and reached for the sed, even thicker manual. It was the kind of book that could double as a blunt on in a fight. She flipped to a random page and read aloud:

  "'Before first use, ensure all protective pstid foam is are removed from the interior cavity. Failure to do so may result iing, smoke damage, or irreversible system failure.'"

  She frowned. "Wait. Are you telling me we have to go on a sger hunt to find hidden bits of pstiside this thing before we even turn it on?"

  Caroline nodded, already reag for a fshlight. "Exactly. Start cheg."

  Max groaned but got up, opening the heavy oven door and peering inside. "Alright, let's see… metal racks, temperature probes, fancy ve fan…" She reached in and pulled out a crumpled sheet of foam tucked into the back er. "Aha! Found one."

  Caroline cpped. "See? You're already helping!"

  Max tossed the foam onto the ter. "Yeah, yeah. Add 'treasure huo my résumé."

  The two of them spent the en minutes digging through both ovens, finding bits of hidden pag materials in the most ridiculous pces... tucked into crevices, wedged under racks, even stuffed behind the trol panels.

  At one point, Max found a small, folded card stuck to the back of the oven interior. She squi the fine print. "Huh. There's a er hotline listed here. 'For teical support or emergencies, call 1-800—'"

  Caroline looked up. "You better not say 'Todd.'"

  Max smirked. "I mean, what if Todd is our assigned rep for life now?" She raised an eyebrow. "What if we are Todd's vilin in story?"

  Caroline groaned. "Please. That man souwo phone calls away from quitting his entire job."

  Max chuckled, tossing the card onto the ter. "Alright, all clear. No pstibs waiting to sabotage us."

  Caroline wiped her hands on her apron. "Perfeow we set up the self-ing cycle."

  Max narrowed her eyes. "I have a very important question."

  Caroline blinked. "What?"

  Max poi the oven. "Why does something that's supposed to cook food have to itself before we use it?"

  Caroline flipped back to the manual. "It's to burn off any residual factory oils or coatings. Standard procedure."

  Max threw her hands up. "Great. Love that. Because nothing says 'delicious bakery' like the smell of burning mae grease."

  Caroline ignored her and pressed a series of buttons on the trol pahe oven beeped to life, and a small digital dispy read: SELF-ING CYCLE: 60 MINUTES.

  A low whirring sound filled the kit as heat started to build ihe oven.

  Max took a cautious step back. "Sooo… we just let it… ie itself for an hour?"

  Caroline nodded. "Exactly."

  Max crossed her arms. "And what are we supposed to do while we wait? Meditate? pte our life choices?"

  Caroline held up ahick booklet. "Actually, now would be a great time to go over warranty details."

  "Well, you do that, while I annoy Han using my seventh fake stripper at," Max pulled out her phone.

  ....

  [Meanwhile, Todd]

  Todd, the ht fat guy weighing over the normal human limit, sat in his gray cubicle at Superior Industrial Ovens & More, staring bnkly at his headset. His firembled slightly over his keyboard, his breathing uneven. Well, he has a weird hiddeish that suddenly awakened with Max's voice...

  His heart ounding.

  His mind repyed the call... her voice, sharp and anding, slig through the drudgery of his dead-end job like a knife.

  "HEY, TODD."

  Goosebumps erupted over his arms.

  The authority. The domihe sheer, uing trol.

  Todd had spent years enduring the abuse of ers—entitled chefs, clueless bakery owners, and impatieaurant managers. But this?

  This was different.

  He had been overpowered.

  Steamrolled.

  Crushed.

  And he had loved it.

  His chubby fingers hovered over the keyboard as he bit his lip, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. Somewhere in his mind, a long-dormant part of him stirred awake.

  "Unless you wao start making calls to every bad review site ahe world your ovens explode on tact with fresh air, yonna fix. This. Now."

  Todd inhaled sharply.

  The sheer fidehe disdain. The way she took what she wanted without hesitation.

  His entire body tingled.

  Slowly, deliberately, he reached for his coffee, only to realize his hand was shaking.

  Who was she?

  'Max…' He checked the information on the s.

  He whispered her name under his breath, barely audible.

  The eime she had spoken to him, he had been nothing more than an objebsp;in her way... an obstabsp;she bulldozed through with zero hesitation. She had used him, anded him, bent him to her will... (It's all in his mind. Puy with a Mistress fetish. Everyone has their owish. Who are we to judge?)

  Todd ched his fists, suppressing a shudder.

  It had been the single most arousing moment of his life.

  His supervisor, a tired woman named Linda, walked past his cubicle and stopped. She narrowed her eyes.

  "Todd."

  He jolted upright. "Y-Yeah?"

  Linda frowned. "Why are you sweating?"

  Todd blinked. He was, in fact, drenched. His forehead glistened, his shirt g to his rotund form, and his breath was ing in short, uneven gasps.

  He had to get it together.

  "I—uh—just hot in here. You know. Ovens. Heh."

  Linda gave him a skeptical look. "Right. Well, corporate just approved the emergency rept you escated."

  Todd sat up straighter. "They did?"

  "Yeah. The CEO's assistant signed off on it immediately. Apparently, they have a special escation protobsp;for ers after their fourth wsuit... The pany 't afford another one," She flipped through her notes.

  Todd swallowed. "That's… Bad?"

  Linda shrugged. "Either way, good job handling that call. You got it sorted fast. Keep that up, and you might actually be looking at a raise."

  Todd barely heard her.

  His mind was still on her.

  Max.

  His Mistress.

  As Linda walked away, Todd slowly stood up from his chair, staring up at the bathroom door at the end of the room.

  He had a new purpose now. He grabbed his phone and headphones and made his way to the end goal...

  ...

  Todd had rushed to the bathroom, phone in hand, sweaty, trembling, and still mentally reeling from his call with Max, the terrifying goddess of er serviination.

  His mind was a mess and he o relieve some stress.

  So, naturally, he pulled up Mistress Veronica's House of Discipline, Volume 7 on his phone. (??)

  The sed he pressed py, a sultry, anding female voied through the entire office.

  "YOU'VE BEEN A VERY NAUGHTY LITTLE OFFICE DRONE, HAVEN'T YOU?"

  The entire room went dead silent.

  Employees stopped typing.

  Phones were slowly lowered.

  Linda, Todd's long-suffering supervisor, spat out her coffee.

  Todd, ihroom, froze mid-button of his pants.

  Then came the line.

  "DO YOU DESERVE TO BE PUODD?"

  Somewhere, a printer beeped in fusion.

  Linda, still processing what was happening, snapped her head up toward Todd's empty cubicle.

  "Todd."

  No answer.

  She walked toward his desk.

  Todd's phone was missing. His puter was off. But then—

  She saw it.

  The Bluetooth setting.

  ected to: CORPORATE SPEAKERS – MAIN FLOOR.

  "GET ON YOUR KNEES AND BEG, YOU FILTHY LITTLE ER SERVICE SLAVE."

  Chaos erupted.

  One guy screamed. Another fell out of his chair. Someoripped over a trash .

  Linda smmed the mute button on the speaker system.

  Silence.

  A long, awkward, horrified silence.

  Then, in the distahe faint sound of running.

  Linda's eye twitched.

  "TODD!!!"

  [Bathroom]

  Todd wasn't evehing. He stared at his phone in pure, unholy terror. Slowly... shakily... he turned off the audio. But it was too te. Because outside, he could hear it—

  The sound of Linda marg toward him like the Grim Reaper in high heels.

  Todd let out a weak, defeated whimper.

  "Oh… oh no."

  [Ten Minutes Later – Todd's Swift Downfall]

  Todd sat in a tiny, airless feren, sweating bullets as Linda stood over him, arms crossed, face set in maximum corporate rage.

  He k was over.

  Linda exhaled through her odd."

  He swallowed. "Y-Yes?"

  "Do you have any st words before I fire you so hard yrandchildren will feel it?"

  Todd wiped his sweaty forehead. "I... I think this is all just a misuanding?"

  Linda deadpanned. "A misuanding?"

  Todd nodded quickly. "Y-Yeah! I mean… um… you know, Bluetooth is... tricky! And, uh… teology fails all the time! And—"

  Linda held up a priranscript of the exabsp;words that had pyed over the speakers.

  Todd shut up immediately.

  Linda took a deep, sing breath. "Todd. We are a pany that sells ovens. Ovens, Todd. Not fetish experiences. Not BDSM fantasies. And definitely not your weird er service kink."

  Todd sank lower into his chair.

  Linda pihe bridge of her nose. "You are fired. Take your things a out of here."

  "But..."

  Linda smmed her hands oable. "GET. OUT."

  Todd scrambled to his feet, humiliated, devastated, and vaguely aroused.

  As he stumbled out of the room, one of the interns whispered, "Dude, did you seriously just get fired over a Mistress porno?"

  Todd, broken and ashamed, could only nod.

  And that was the end of Todd's career at Superior Industrial Ovens & More.

  [Meanwhile – Max & Caroline]

  Max sneezed.

  Caroline looked up from the oven manual. "You okay?"

  Max shrugged. "Dunno. Probably just some loser somewhere thinking about me."

  Caroline snorted. "That tracks."

  Little did she know…

  Somewhere, in the corporate graveyard of failed employees, Todd whispered her name in longing.

  "Max…"

  And that, dear reader, was how Todd fell in love, got fired, and actally became a legend. (We will see Todd again)

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