Includes: tripping remote, embarrassment and karma for a professional woman

I've been promoted by the owner of Colossal Studios. I am now thee senior executive manager, and my first impulse is to terminate the "Dumbass" movie.

The "Dumbass" crew have made a series of prankster movies, 1,2,3, and now they want to make a 4th. The old manager loved their type of humor, but I have always knew it was vile. Colossal Studios needs to focus on more artistic work, and firing Scotty-O, and his crew is my top priority.

I walk in Studio 4B, and they're in the process of filming. "Cut, cut, CUT!," I scream to them. I tell them to gather around when I break the news. I'm not very sensitive about it, I know I need to be direct with numb skulls like these boys. They are outraged, of course, and want to speak to the old manager whom I have already fired.

Scott-O tells me that it's really too bad, he wanted to feature his new invention in their latest prankster series. "Oh?" He tells me it's a machine that can control a woman's clothing, it can also control a woman's hands.

The machine sounds ridiculous to me, and possibly a ploy to stick around the studio that he loves so much, for just a bit longer. I shoo them out, when "POP!" I lean down and pick it up-- it's a button from my blouse. Odd. I continue on, ordering the other "Dumbass" boys to turn off the lights, please! I then feel my hand raise up, and **SLAP!** I slapped myself across the face!

It's crazy! Could it be...? I shrug it off, it was obviously a mistake. A series of other clothing wardrobe malefactions prove to me that the machine is REAL, that it's working! They're trying to see me NUDE!

I pull out my cell phone and phone security. An oafish, tired looking man strolls on in, and he doesn't know who I am. I clutch my blouse together, "I am Melissa DeVille," and I need YOU to these men out of here!" He would like to see my ID. I can't believe it! I thought that my promotion was such a huge deal, that everyone surely heard about it. I look around for my ID, when I hear Scott-O pressing the machine again!

I am a modest woman, a proud conservative, and I can not stand being taken advantage of! I decide to leave them, and to go out to my car, grab my dress and find the head security guard. I run off the stage and to the exit door, but it's LOCKED!

The Dumbass crew and the security guard are close behind me. I giggle the door handle, nothing! I see the Union men having lunch, and I c*ll for them.. surely they can help me unlock the door. The men all stand around me, hearing me beg and plead, and watching me slowly come undone. My satin camisole is off, my lacey bra is showing, my feminine girdle, and my silky stockings. Scott-O teases me with the key! He has it, but he wants me to agree to give him his old deal back, PLUS three more movies, and 10% extra commission. "What a slime b*ll!" This is extortion!

I run from them, down the corridor, and I see the wardrobe closet. I grab a dress and slide it on. "Phew! That was a close one." I see the head security guard and my panties come off from under my conservative dress. I try to professionally explain to him that I have no control of what's going on, as he dodges my panties being thrown right at his face! The Dumbass crew, the union guys, and the other security guard circle around me. Scotty-O tries to tell him that I am a hired actress, a stripper! I am horrified! L*ttle by l*ttle my clothing comes off.

"I am NOT a stripper," I declare, clinging to the last bit of dignity that is inside of me. The head security guard calls police, the REAL police! They come and I am clutching my nude body, naked, devastated. I am not a stripper!

The police take me to the Mental Institution. They throw me in a white, padded room. "I'm not a stripper, not a stripper.." I mutter over and over again, with broken, vacant eyes.

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