The shorts had ridden up her thick, chocolate thighs and the undersides of her juicy cheeks were peeking out from the bottom. Marcus’s joy was short...lived, however. When she finally got the remote, she tugged on the tantalizing garment until it covered her sweet, wide ass again. Marcus remembered the subtle jiggling of her breasts when she danced to the music they played as they cooked. Marcus had turned on 90’s R&B as a joke, but was pleasantly surprised at Makena when she sang along, shaking. Forced to choose between eating and lodging, she went hungry. She lay awake at night, weak from hunger, worn from worry, trying to ignore her fleabites and the constant rattling cough of a nearby child. The cellar air was sickly, every breath Rose took was already inhaled and exhaled by a score of other people. With only a few cents remaining, the letter from Kathleen finally came. Rose, Come tomorrow morn to the back entrance. I’ve had a word with the butler, Mr. Burton. Don’t let his gruff. ”Mary Christmas: “Yeah, I remember that. He got out three times to have a piss, then climbed back in. The twat”First Elf: “Twat.”Mary Christmas: “Twat.”All cast members under four feet high turn towards audience.Cast: “Boys and girls, Santa is a twat!”Audience: “OH NO HE ISN’T!”Cast: “OH YES HE IS!”Audience: “OH NO HE ISN’T!”Cast: “OH YES HE IS!”Audience: “OH NO HE ISN’T!”Cast: “OH YES HE IS!”Mary Christmas: “STOP THIS NOW THE LOT OF YOU! I like a joke, but fuck a pantomime….” (Stops, and. It looked absurdly normal, with a bed made, flowers in a vase, and no sign of either her mother, or her storied father.Jane began to feel some concern. She made her way to her own room.Penn's mother, Magda, was sitting on her bed. She had been waiting, silent, out of view from the door, since Jane arrived home."Your parents aren't here, Jane. I'll look after you now."She patted the bed beside her, indicating that Jane should sit.Jane knew that something was amiss. Her mother would have said.