75:
Out of Control, Finally
Daisy:
Jennifer
wasted no time arranging her next encounter. Using her new concept of
“levels”, there were exactly three men remaining on the planet at
Level 2: Alexander Igile, the “other” male porn star whose
character had been killed off in the second movie; Jeffery Tunne,
sound and lighting, and, of course, Norman Stallman himself.
Her
idea was to take everyone remaining at Level 2 – all the cast and
crew that were in on our secret – and get them upgra

74:
The Test Subject
Daisy:
Jennifer is wearing a gauzy nightgown as she stares out her apartment
window into a grey, overcast world. I’m admiring her curves from
behind, in silhouette, from one of her dinette chairs: it’s not I
who changed her into this, I realize, it’s who she always was: she
just always hid under a costume at work, black T-shirt and jeans that
said Don’t
mind me, I’m just the make-up girl, let me get my work done so
they’ll pay me.
“Where
the hell is he?” she

73:
When It Rains
Daisy:
I no longer know what I’m doing here. I’ve lost control. I…
don’t know what to do.
I’m
staring out the window of an extended-stay hotel by myself, because
Leila and I have… broken up. It’s raining, which feels
appropriate.
I
don’t know if it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. I felt earlier
that I was going to lose her, somehow. And I’m totally aware that
she’s completely, totally right.
We
were in bed together, facing each other, that lovely tail deep
b

Big
Mama and Willow
The
woman stood in front of Willow, shivering, knife in hand. Willow
shivered as well; she’d set the groceries down on the dark, damp
asphalt of the alley behind the supermarket; one of the two reusable
bags had tipped over and the eggs were probably broken, but this girl
wasn’t after the groceries.
“Cash.
I saw you use cash at the register,” the girl said. “Hand it
over.”
Willow
fumbled through her purse. Big Mama knew pretty accurately how much
the weekly trip t

72:
The Sequels
If you
don’t want people to know you can shrink people down and swallow
them into your sex organ, do it in front of two hundred and twelve
million people in stereo 8K Digital.
--
Lucy Furr, “The Devil’s Daughter”
Daisy:
Leila and I were correct. Hiding in plain sight works.
It
turns out you don’t make a lot of money from your first movie when
you’re an unknown. The investors, and to some extent the studio,
make the lion’s share, which makes sense as they took a big

71:
What Now?
Daisy:
I’ll rewind a bit.
It’s
taken a lot of scheduling, coordination, conspiring
to get this far. A lot of work to get everybody “infected”.
I am standing in the back room of November Sierra FilmWorks and it’s
been barely sixty seconds since Leila finished reconnecting the
memories of our cast and crew, a Queen Bee-ish trick I was almost
afraid to share with her.
Understand:
I have no choice of what I share with her if I share everything,
if I let her explore my memorie

70:
The Devil’s Daughter
Daisy:
November
Sierra FilmWorks is a nondescript single-story white building in an
office park full of nondescript single-story white buildings, the
name in stencil on a grey metal door.
I
take another look at Leila before we exit the rideshare. We did an
amazing job: I, Daisy, can actually feel myself get wet between the
legs just looking at her. That was the design. So absolutely
disarmingly perfect that she’s the kind of woman you just pray
looks your way—ev

69:
Leila
Daisy:
I’m standing there trying to decide what to with Leila’s old
clothes when she calls me into the bathroom with the words: “Ack!
Help!”
I
knock. The door’s locked but there’s an emergency release, so I
release it.
She’s
got the whirlpool tub running and has chosen bubble bath rather than
the bath bombs I set for her, and she’s used too much so she’s
underneath a small mountain of white foam.
It’s
absolutely a heartening scene. A week ago, she was crying for a
t