Scent of Victory, The

I've told you the story of Alexa Pittman, Door Woman. And I'm going to tell you the story of, and this is because before she was the Door Woman, Alexa Pittman was: 

THE BOWLING ALLEY QUEEN.

Now you know that Alexa wore those cowboy boots and hats and that pair of jeans in "the Door Woman?" Well this Alexa Pittman is the same but quite a bit different. Because one or two years before she tossed all that garb away (?) and wore a leather jacket, tight t-shirt, a pair of shorts, and a pair of high heels (RED).

Now I know that you're thinking that this is just another one of those stories where the woman becomes real skanky and comes into some comeuppance, but this one is a tad bit different. There is a bit of that stuff, yes, but it does shed some light on the Door Woman and Alexa Pittman's character. And that stuff is kind of important - to me, at least.

Now it was a night, around 8 PM, in the Bowling Alley ("Big Bowling Alley") in Neo-Pagan City. That's where New York would be, but about twenty years in the future, and if things were a little different. Neo-Pagan was devoted to Bowling Ball. It was the sport, and as everyone and their mother lived in the city, or thereabout, everybody (excepting their mother) played it.

Alexa Pittman, as the title implies, was the Bowling Alley Queen. That means she never lost a game. And as the girls (or guys) who played the game were popped when they lost, that means she was just an average player. However, the girl had 25 wins -- and as that was more than anybody else had, it made her the reigning player.

The interesting thing was she was born into some lineage, her grandfather having created the sport of Competitive Bowling Ball some 75 years ago, when he invented the use of pink puffy gas (which we shall call F-Phremes) and put it in a bowling alley. His wife tripped over something, fell into the aisle (and I don't mean in marriage), and the sport of Competitive Bowling Ball was born.

-

Competitive Bowling Ball starts with a Bang and ends with a BANG! And that's because the first one is drama and the second one is real -- death, or the "going-away", as we like to call it. 

Going away means, of course, that they'll come back... somehow! 

Alexa's first competitor of the day (and this one looked like an easy one), was the fragile, docile, motherly-looking Katherine Cohen. And if you had looked at the way she dressed, her feminine cowboy hat, her ever-so high-waisted jeans, and her small, diminutive pair of bowling alley shoes, you would see what I mean. 

The girl's docility and familiarity were one thing, but Alexa, having had fifteen years of experience in Bowling Ball and 15 years of experience in parfumerie, had come well prepared. 

Her grandfather had trained her. 

Katherine walked up to Alexa. This was the sticking point. Alexa stuck out her hand. The first part: the perfume. Alexa sprayed it onto her hand beforehand and stuck it onto Katherine's afterhand. This was the first step. 

Katherine walked away, confused. The perfume was fast-acting. And confusion was part of the act. Katherine stumbled over to the bowling alley and then plopped over down into her seat. 

Alexa then sprayed some perfume onto her right hand, discreetly covering it in her jacket pocket, where had she concealed the other bottle of perfume. 

Katherine looked at her suspiciosly but wasn't able to see anything out of the ordinary. She picked up a bowling ball, tottered, took a sideways glance at Alexa, and threw the bowling ball. She wasn't as bad as her mother-like image had made her appear, but the perfume made her fuck up. The ball tottered down the lane like a drunken man hobbling across a road and hit two pins -- two, but not too bad, for a drugged. 

"Hehe," Alexa said. As if that was the best she could do. She patted Katherine on the back -- "here here, it's not so bad, buddy" -- sticking more perfume on to the girl's back and making Katherine even more confused. Then Alexa rubbed more perfume onto the both of her hands. It was a non-detectable essence, or some such thing: all the better, so that no-one could smell a rat. 

She had worn another essence over it: Pink Nouage, known for it's strong but gentle scent, and known to Alexa to mask and protect her from the other one. The one she had put on her hands, the green bottle she had hidden in her pocket, made the ball stick to her hands and come out of them perfectly. 

If you're confused, there are three bottles: 1 The perfume that confuses people (the black one, "Silent but Deadly"), 2 The perfume that makes bowling balls stick to your hands and come out of them perfectly, and 3 the pink one, Pink Nouage, which smells good. Also a key ingredient in Pink Puffy Gas. 

Alexa picked up a ball: "My turn," she said, stuck the green perfume all over it, pretended to roll the ball around in her hands, hoisted the ball up, and threw it. 

Another straight roll from Alexa Pittman. Another one. The ball went straight down the aisle and hit smack the center of the pins. Not a bad shot. Not bad at all. A safe one. Can't go wrong with that. 

Katherine started sobbing. She knew she had lost. 

Alexa patted Katherine on the shoulder -- more perfume -- and said "It's okay, baby." Then she bowled and got a spare. 

"Poor baby," Alexa said. "You get another shot, though!" She said enthusiastically, handing Katherine a bowling ball laced with perfume. 

Katherine smelled the perfume in her nostrils, holding it: "for the love of bowling ball," she said, kissed it, threw it: A terrible shot. It landed in somebody else's bowling aisle, surprising their dad. 

This ended with Alexa's inevitable victory. She put an arm over the sobbing Katherine Cohen's shoulder and told her that her end wouldn't last for long. Katherine sobbed. 

In Competitive Bowling Ball, the girls don't ever last long after they lose. Katherine was not a different girl -- and Alexa told her to bring her hair down. 

Katherine reached under her hat and her hair fell down past her shoulders. Alexa tied the light auburn-red hair into a strong, thick braid. 

"Poor baby," Alexa said. "Now you'll be in safe hands with me," she continued. "Until you die!" 

And she picked poor Katherine up by the braid -- yes, by the braid -- and lifted her up, yes lifted her up, over her shoulders. Katherine sobbed more. 

Alexa threw her on to the bowling court. Katherine started rolling. She didn't have a bouncy or rounded body, but she was more than helped along by the puffy gas, F-Phremes, which spurted at her here-there here-there, and pushed her down the aisle. 

Guess what? Her body inflated. 

Whenever the gas hit her, wherever it hit her, that part would blow up. And in the end all of her blew up. 

Eventually Katherine looked like a giant feminine bowling ball. All of her was spherical, circular, and rolling down the aisle. She was head over legs, legs over ass, then arms over head and then KA-BOOM! That was the end of her. 

Katherine Cohen had met with her fate. 

"Aw," Alexa said. She had popped prematurely. It was kind of pitiful -- the big rounded girl hadn't even reached the mid way. 

Oh well. The people would get to sweeping it. In the meantime, Alexa had to shower. She had to get ready for her next match. 

 

Little did Alexa know about Sophie. Sophie Tolliver was an investigative reporter hell-bent on getting the scoop on Alexa Pittman. She knew something was wrong with Alexa. She knew something was wrong (or had been wrong) with that match with Katherine. And she knew that Alexa had set something up. 

All the attention that girl got, Sophie steamed inside her head, all the attention that girl got from the perfume sales, from the attention from the men, the attention from the audience... it sickened her. It sickened her to death. 

(She was jealous). 

She would put a stop to her. She would find out whatever Alexa had done, even if it took her two years, or more than that. Sophie would put an end to her. 

Sophie then crept into the ladies' changing room. The hiss of the shower was on, Alexa evidently in there. Sophie suspected the girl took long showers, but what did she know. She looked around for Alexa's locker. 

Ah, there it was: "A. P.", Alexa's initials, emblazoned onto a gold locker. Alexa was indeed the Bowling Alley Queen. God! Sophie looked at it in disgust. 

"What's in here," Sophie said, opening it -- Alexa had left the locker door unlocked. "Nothing," Sophie said, slammed it. She glanced at the shower to see if anyone had heard her. It was still running. Nothing happened. Sophie was safe for now. 

Alexa's jacket was there, amongst her other clothing. Alexa's high heels were on the ground. Sophie kicked them over in disgust. Then she looked over the rest of the clothing. 

First she came to the jacket. Three perfume bottles, one in the inside pocket, the others in the other two. Sophie wrote about them in her notebook. Sophie inspected the one. It was labelled "Silent but Deadly." 

"What a stink," Sophie said, putting it down. 

She wrote about it. She inspected the other two. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but what did she know? 

Sophie looked at the shower area. Hissssss. Was Alexa inflating in there? No. She probably got off on it doing it to other people. 

She rifled through Alexa's other pockets. Nothing. Just a keycard, for getting into the bowling alley, her driver's license, and her employee ID for getting into the perfume company.  

Sophie heard the shower stop running. The hiss turned into a sshh and she knew Alexa was getting ready to come out. A. had probably washed off any traces of perfume... 

Sophie got out of there. But she made sure to stuff her trenchcoat pockets with the perfume first, and helped herself to a tiny smattering of Alexa's money, before she left. 

Alexa came out of the shower. 

"Huh?" 

She noticed something was missing from her pockets, and her clothes had been ruffled through. 

THE PERFUME! ... (and my money!) ... :( ...  

Sophie would be sure to meet with her later. In the meantime, she had to get ready for her next bowling game. Little did she know, Sophie would be awaiting her outside. It was coming onto 9:30, and the bowling alley would be deserted. And Sophie would be waiting for her outside, a surprise waiting for her...

 

Alexa went out into the darkened bowling alley. She always practiced her bowling after big matches. Her grandfather had taught her to practice every day, and she did, religiously. She was a cheater, but no slacker. 

She got out a bowling ball and got into her bowling stance. Even in high heels, she was the look of poise and grace. Nobody who looked at her when she bowled could take their eyes off of her. Maybe that's why so many people forgot about the competitor's dizziness and attributed Alexa's win instead to her being good. 

Some people attributed it to her "grandfather's curse", and said that he administered the bowling alley after death and gave his precious granddaughter the every win. Others said it was "the scent of victory" that she got from her perfume-making -- she was simply too successful. Others said it was simply her victory -- her defeatlessness itself that caused her enemies' knees to knock. Any way, all of her enemies lost. 

Alexa bowled a ball. She thought about her grandfather. About Katherine, her latest victory. She thought about all the people who would come to watch her bowl, and the standard she would set to impress them again. Another bowl. She thought about her perfume company. Anybody who looked at her would think that she looked like a swan practicing its swing. She was unable to topple. And then Sophie came along. 

"I see you're practicing fervently," Sophie said, in a sort of self-important way. She rolled her finger along the edge of a blue shiny bowling ball. "What sort of swing is that? "Flying dragon defeats caged snake?" She put her fingers up. She paused. 

Alexa didn't waver. Her eyes were fixated on the bowling alley court. Her grin betrayed her. She reared up for another bowling ball shot. 

Sophie coughed: "Aren't those high heels you're wearing? Don't they damage the bowling alley? You don't want to damage the bowling court. People live and die here, it's a serious thing." 

Alexa stumbled a bit. Something had happened to her. She frowned and figured it out inside. It was Sophie Tolliver, newspaper reporter -- she must have been in to get the scoop. 

Alexa trembled in fear. Sophie would get the dirty on her. She knew it. It would be her end. 

Alexa straightened herself. This wouldn't be the first time a reporter had gotten the dirty on her. Last time this happened she had sprayed the reporter with some mystery perfume that made her forget every last detail about the scoop. She could do it again. 

All it would take was some... hey wait -- where was the perfume? Oh God -- someone had taken it! That person was Sophie... not a competitor!!! 

"That's right," Said Sophie. She stalked closer to Alexa. She put the black bottle of perfume in her face. "See how you like this." 

Sophie sprayed it into her face. 

"Ah!" Alexa said. She tried to get the perfume off. Nothing would work. She didn't have Pink Nouage. Without that, all she could do was take it. She felt her guard dropping... 

Sophie "ha-ha"'d. 

Alexa felt herself becoming dumber. She knew she couldn't resist. Silent but Deadly never came off... it would only come off in the shower... 

"Ha-ha." 

Sophie walked away. She sprayed one last spray into Alexa's face. That would finish her. 

"Wait..." 

Sophie looked. 

"..." Alexa began. 

Sophie: "What?"

Alexa: "..." 

"Excellent," Sophie said. 

Sophie walked away. 

Alexa stood there, dumbfounded... 

---

"Next," Alexa said. 

Another girl walked on screen. She showed the crew what she was made of. She was made of only hot air. 

"Next." 

Another girl walked in. She made it look as if she owned everything -- all she owned was a ticket out the door. 

"Next." 

Another girl walked in. This would be the last one. It was the one, the only, Kim Kardashian. She put on perfume. She didn't do well enough. 

"Next." 

There was no next. Everyone had cleared out. Alexa knew that she had to do the job. She had to put on the perfume. She sprayed it on. 

"Aah...," she said. 

There was no other who could show off her particular brand of Pink Nuage. It was her signature scent. It would make her look good. 

Alexa stood in front of the cameras. She showed it off. The scent looked good -- or should I say smelt good. People would become jealous of her. Pink Nuage (V2) would be the next big thing. And with her black evening gown, Alexa would stun all the men. She just needed a hint of "Silent But Deadly" -- to protect her from the other people and to stop reacting with the scent. She just needed to find it... but couldn't. 

She was curious about the girl near her. What was her name? Something like "Sophie Oliver," or something like that... wait. 

Sophie said, "You're doing good, Alexa, keep it going," she said waving her hand, rolling her hand -- Alexa kept going. Kept showing off. Kept... inflating? 

Sophie paid attention. She knew Pink Nuage reacted with hairspray... to make pink... puffy... GAS! All it took was some internet-looking. Anybody could do it. Pink Nuage reacted with hairspray! It was good that nobody could get their hands on it. Except... she in charge. 

Sophie had put on a canister of hairspray. She made sure to go all out. Alexa wouldn't be leaving here like normal. It wouldn't be a typical day for her. She wouldn't be leaving here alive. Sophie got a hair canister out. Alexa had a feeling she knew what Sophie planned... and she didn't like it. 

"Put that hairspray down!" she said. 

"Hmmmmm... no!" 

Alexa tried to leave the room. Her belly was starting to inflate, and her ballroom gown along with it. Her legs had started to plumpen up, her lips were getting nice and full too (but not overly full, you know), and her leg showed through a tidy slit in her ballroom gown. 

"Help me!" Alexa said. "Guards! Police!" She banged both of her hands on the double doors. 

Sophie laughed. "There's no one in here," she said. "I held them off. All it took was some of this... Black perfume." She said. "They were easily duped." 

"Black perfume...? *GASP*!" Alexa exclaimed. 

It was Silent but Deadly. When did Sophie get her hands on it? No -- she shook her head -- it didn't matter. She would get out of here. Alexa Pittman would live to get out of here and bowl as the sovereign of her bowling court again!

Alexa stalked towards Sophie--

"Ah, ah, ah," Sophie said, walking up, wagging her finger. The camera people were always a hairs-width away from Alexa -- photographer's priviliges. "Not if you want some of this hairspray sprayed all around!" 

Alexa frowned and pouted. She ran from one side of the room to the other. Her hips were swelling -- she couldn't seem to make her mind up. Not like it wasn't being sprayed all around the room anyway.

"Just a little more time, sweetie," Sophie said, spraying. "Just a little more hairspray!" The whole room was becoming filled up. Alexa was up to her neck in it... hairspray combo plus Pink Puffy Gas, F-Phremes was beginning to form in her throat -- she had to cough it up. There was no other choice! 

"Gack! Cough!" She gagged, rambling towards Sophie. Her hips flared. She put an arm over her mouth to keep the gas from getting in there -- if she could! "Sophie! Cough... Help!" 

Sophie chortled, giggled at her. 

Alexa's hips flared. But not too much, she was a tiny girl, after all. Her bosom swelled after it. It swelled up, it filled out the top of her evening dress, and floated up, balancing out the bottom of her body. She looked proud -- even dignified. But inflated. And worried.

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