Lucy found herself in a musty port-o-potty with two very large humans.
After what seemed like an eternity of adjustment, Lucy's eyes began to flex their muscles, allowing her to see gradually after being thrust from the bright sunlight into an unsanitary and crowded plastic water closet.
When her pupils focused on the two gruff faces towering near the ceiling, she wished she was blind.
Their angry, rough, exceptionally threatening countenances peered down on in with distorted depth perception so that their heads looked even larger than they were, which already were quite large, having actually been appointed to their positions because of their size.
Lucy felt very, very small. She almost lost her knee strength, beginning to sink down away, away, from doom.
A slight rustle from a fecal-feasting animal down below her buttocks stopped her descent in its tracks.
She bolted upright, accidentally bumping bellies with her captors.
They didn't speak for ages.
Having been instructed by Jay's manager to keep her quiet for as long as possible before letting her go, they merely stood and stared at her, watching her lips and eyes quiver like flibbertigibbets.
Five fearful minutes later they issued her an ultimatum.
She must never look Jay in the face again, or she would end up below the port-o-potty, instead of in it.
And he must never see her again, either.
Not ever.
The men left the john.
Lucy sat down and cried.
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