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The 'Jean-Paul' and crew race to be ready. XXX Video

Two strangers meet in a time of healing.

He was taking the opportunity to show off

A.his neighborliness, B.his forty-room mansion, set in ninety-acres of landscaped garden, complete with a full-scale replicas of Rome's Trevi fountain, and London's Nelson's column, and C.his finely-chiseled body that just undergone extensive cosmetic surgery from Los Angeles's foremost surgeon (who had personally performed the fine chiseling).

In addition, Phil's manager had strongly suggested that unless he wanted to lose the straight crowd altogether, he better find a young girl and announce his engagement as soon as possible. So the Party would provide a good opportunity to meet a few prospects.

Cindy felt even more wretched now, knowing that she would never be allowed to the Big Party. You see, she was in love with the handsome actor. She had watched every one of Phil Charming's movies, which had been shown every day on TV for the last month, as a build-up to his new blockbuster, "Fowl Service" (about a tennis star caught sleeping with a chicken).

No matter that there were probably fifty million women all over the country that had also fallen for him. She felt that their destiny was together. In her favorite of his movies, Scorsese's gritty 'From the Gutter', he had mumbled a particularly appropriate line: "Uh, I love you. You and me gotta get outa this shit-hole together or die tryin'".

Ridiculous and hopeless as it seemed, she just KNEW that this was addressed directly to her, Cindy.

If only they could meet...

On the evening of the Party, her stepmother and stepsisters were out visiting the Fred Segal store on Melrose, in a last-ditch (and futile) attempt of Mom's to clothe her daughters as potential mates for the Prince.

Cindy, left alone in the house as usual, was startled by a loud scuffling and clanging in the front yard. Coyotes? Burglars? Either way the desperate girl didn't care. At least being torn apart by coyotes or raped by burglars would provide an escape from her miserable life.

She unlocked the front door and peered into the darkness.

A grasshopper, that had been chirping noisily, suddenly stopped.

Just in front of her, lying on the driveway, was a chubby little man dressed in a white linen suit. He was in the process of extricating himself from a garden hosepipe, which he evidently had just tripped over. Seeing her, he looked up and beamed.

"Ahh, Cindy Heller, I presume! Look at you, all naked, just like the day you were born!"

He stood up. He was very short, with fair curly hair that had almost completely receded from his big, round head. He looked like an aging cherub. His suit was grubby after his fall, and he tried to dust it off, to no effect.

Cindy looked at him, wide-eyed but without fear. He was simply too unthreatening a sight to scare anyone, even the paranoid residents of Beverly Hills.

"Yes, as naked as the day you were born, but a little bigger in places... My word, you have grown into a delightful young thing! ...But I forget my manners, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Mitchell Goldfarb, of Goldfarb Public Relations Consultants. But you can just call me your Fairy Godfather."

Cindy eyes widened even further. "Are-are you really my Godfather?" she asked.

"Yes, and I'm really a Fairy too -- luckily for you!" he giggled.

"Yes, honey, I knew your mother well. Not your stepmother, that BITCH. I mean your REAL mother. She was a sweet thing, God rest her soul. Now, let's get you ready for the Party; I assume you DO want to go to the Party?"

Cindy almost swooned with longing at this offer. She swayed, clutching at the doorframe. Goldfarb ran up and put a hand under her arm to support her. "I'll take that as a yes," he said, and he led her out into the driveway.

Goldfarb suddenly assumed a professional attitude: "Okay, honey, turn around, let's get a look at you ...".

He considered Cindy from every angle, like a sculptor deciding where to start chipping at a slab of marble.

"Nice, slim figure, real tits for a change.

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