"Great! Now my car's stalled," Nicole cried as she and Gloria were stranded in front of the old manor. The new owner of the estate had far more optimism about the lucrative restaurant potential of the kooky old house after a quick tour of the ground level. Nicole was more than relieved to have solid ground under her feet, as in the manor's current state it couldn't handle too many weighty individuals at once. Her relief was soon dashed with her continued car trouble.
"I'm sure it's due to idling in that traffic all morning," Gloria said, busy tapping at her phone. "You should get your car replaced if it's giving you trouble."
"I was kind of waiting for a big bonus," Nicole snarked, today going down into a history of her worst days.
"There will be no bonus if we don't get the new business in the black," Gloria shot back. "Never fear! I was reaching out to my design consultants and Sandra can bring out her family's tow truck."
"Consultants?" Nicole noticed the plural. "Oh no, you don't mean her as well." She trusted Gloria's on call handy-woman but the next number Gloria added to her group text brought the thigh heavy chef pause.
"Unlike your doubts, Nicole, Chalchi has the eye to appreciate what the manor has to offer," Gloria said. "They say they can be here in fifty minutes."
"That's far too long!" Nicole whined. "I'll be hungry by then!"
"I've told them they need to make it in 30 minutes and they better bring us lunch." Ignoring that an extended brunch/lunch meeting was had by the lead Kitchen Boss and her number two chef when they were deciding which property to purchase.
Two vehicles made their way towards Malanor Manor, keeping in contact with short-band radio.
"Jade Skirted River to Grease Monkey Momma, come in. Do you copy, Grease Monkey Momma?"
The driver of the tow-truck from the 'Hwyler Family Automative & Towing' company radioed back. "Are the call signs really necessary, Chalchi?"
"I'm not going to ask for your bandwave and NOT use it, Grease Monkey Momma. Over." The driver of the 'Offbeat Painting & Salvage' van chuckled over the radio. "Bigger Fish and Hipped-Opatamus sure are the harsh taskmistresses, aren't they?"
"Who is who, again?" the tow truck driver asked. "Honestly, Chalchi, I'm just trying to not put a toe out of line. I'm still hoping to get Mz. Vandergast to sponsor my race car."
"Ten-forty and double-o-fifty, Grease Monkey Momma. We'll rendezvous at the horror house and feed the beast bosses with the takeout I picked up."
"None of that jargon means what you think it means," came the exasperated sigh. "Wait, you got them takeout? I thought I was supposed to?!"
"About time," Gloria noted from Nicole's car as the brown with red accents tow-truck and rainbow mural van made their way up the manor drive. Her two consultants emerged from their vehicles, bags of carryout in tow.
Sandra Hwyler was the younger of the pair, a promising if somewhat meek mechanic Gloria kept on her docket whenever heavy repairs were needed. Sandra had her fair brown hair in a bob cut. Her greasy overalls did little to hide her overdeveloped breasts and hips. Yet this was Sandra at her skinniest, maturing out of a childhood and teenage years being greatly overweight. Dedication to trying to improve her health, along with the eco-friendly technologies she fostered, kept her eyes for slimming down as she worked on her car in the local Alternative Fuel Racing League. A hometown girl wanting to improve the community, she wasn't sold on being on Gloria Vandergast's beck and call initially, yet her hopes of landing her as a big name sponsor in the racing circuit kept her loyal. Although her boss's tantalizing recipes were a further temptation.
Chalchi Kayode, in contrast, stood out the most from the heavy-set women assembled. Almost a decade Sandra's senior, Chalchi was tall and well built, her frame obscured by a thick, lurid-soiled painter's jumpsuit. She was also a wild spoken, overly imaginative Afro-Brazzillian house painter, artist, salvage operator and part time inventor. Foolhardy genius seemed to attract more of its own, as Gloria's continued patronage of Chalchi's wasn't only for interior painting. Chalchi dabbled in molecular gastronomy, such innovations in league with Gloria's crazed business acumen.
"Man, what a dump!" Chalchi said, taking off her goggles as she marveled at the old estate. White patches of missing pigment across her dark skinned face indicated her full body vitiligo otherwise covered by her work attire. "Let's chow down on the soul food quick, boss ladies, I've always wanted to check this place out. Officially."
"I, um, managed to fit in line at the Chik-fil-A," Sandra also offered some fast food, made lighter from her own nugget multipack eaten from some stress snacking. "The truck, I mean."
"The chow will be short, girls," Gloria said. "I want some design plans drafted up by this evening. We're going to make the most of Malanor Manor that it has to offer."
"And that it's made certifiably structurally sound," Nicole added, piggly digging into the proffered food.
Most of the food being gobbled up by Gloria and Nicole, the team made a second venture into the mansion despite Nicole's protests, akin to waiting several minutes to swim after eating on account of her continued suspicion of the manor supporting their collective weights. To placate these fears each of the women kept their distance as they continued to explore.
That's putting the engineering smarts to use, yet not the best idea when exploring a spooky manor. Horror films had less egregious prologues.
"You could really make a show out of this macabre architecture," Chalchi marveled, flashlight trained at the high archways on the second floor. "Like, spin up that haunted angle. Dinner theatre with a ghost sighting. Stay the night, if you dare!"
"Remember, we want repeat customers," Gloria announced from a room ahead. "Lots of tacky, outdated furniture. We can have nods to the past but I want classical antiques. It might require some subdued work form you, Chalchi."
"Subdued? Me??" Chalchi feigned disdain. "I'm betrayed, boss lady."
"I'm not turning this into one of your Carnivale-inspired-Halloweenie attractions," Gloria clarified, leaning back into the room oblivious to another house creak from her shifting weight. "Is there a mysterious allure to the most rumored to be haunted property in Trussel? Yes. But I'm still running a fine dining experience in the trappings of such secrets."
"You sure?" Testing the give of the guest bed, Chalchi stretched out on the dusty covers. "I've got a new formula for licorice paste. Great for cake decorating. Keeps its shape, so you can 3D print your own candy. Also an excellent adhesive."
"Focus, Chalchi!" Gloria grumbled. "And quit laying down on the job! Give me a price range for redoing the wallpaper and paint."
"Score!" Chalchi exclaimed, eager to cross another idiom off her 'Horrid Puns Bucket List' in a little notebook before she got to Gloria's request.
Meanwhile, Nicole Harker was perched at the top of the cellar steps, not about to find herself trapped in the basement with Sandra. Those were some jerky wooden stairs. "What's the damage, Sandy?" She called out. "Please tell me there's something to redeem this nightmare house."
"Well," Sandra summarized as her flashlight was trained over the utilities. "Boiler's out, that was to be expected. I think I see an area where we could feed in the gas lines." Looking down at the schematics, then back to the underpinnings of the manor, highlighted a puzzle for the wallflower mechanic. "Are you sure these are the original blueprints for the manor?"
"That's what Gloria got from the city offices," Nicole replied. "But they're not the originals, only surveyed results. They told us the original drafts were lost in a fire. More bad juju to surround this place, or whatever Chalchi would say," she spat.
"Then what was this switch box for?" Sandra asked, before pulling a lever.
A grinding, metallic sound buzzed in the wall behind Nicole. She yelped, about to jump out of her skin, if it wasn't for the pillars of fat in her legs, belly and backside weighing her down. "What the hell was that?!"
"I think," Sandra suggested, "that was something to do with the push-bell system. Or maybe some sort of inner-level dumbwaiter."
"What?" Nicole asked, confused.
"There's lots of strange, early electrical and mechanical systems in this house," Sandra said. "I'll need to inspect further. This is all analogue, nothing like the electrical systems of the day. It's a wonder any of the previous owners could turn on so much as a toaster."
"Great," Nicole sighed in resignation. "Just great. Why did Gloria decide to purchase a madhouse that's going to get us all bankrupt? Or killed, if we're unlucky."
"You really think the place is haunted?" Sandra called up, surprised.
"I'm not even sure this is a project she can turn around," Nicole said. "Not because of ghosts and spooks, but the whole building should be condemned. From my car breaking down to nearly falling through the porch, it's been ill omens since we got here."
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