The Car Suit

The Car Suit

I believe in throwing out junk mail once it is discovered to be such.  But Shelly... well, she doesn't really know what junk mail is quite yet.
So, when she got a letter from the Atlantis resort in the Caribbian for a free trip for two with reduced airfare, I did my best to discourage her, even though the deal was decent.
I had just gotten home from work and brought in the mail, and began to sort it out.  Although, most of the mail is usually mine.
"Mail's here... let's see... Claxion, Claxion... ooh, Nintendo Power... Claxion... I may have already won a million dollars..." I tossed that one into the nearest garbage, and then continued, "Claxion... Shelly?  Shelly... interesting," I said as I tossed the rest of my mail onto the dining room table and called Shelly.
"Shelly?  Got some mail for you," I said.
I looked at the envelope.  It was smooth like a magizine, but didn't have any return address.  Not quite sure how she ended up getting on anyone's mailing list, but I decided to give it to Shelly anyways.  
Her mail, her buisness.
Or so I thought.
"I'm downstairs!" Shelly called.
I then took the letter and headed down the steps, finally hearing the soft music playing on the stereo, and the bathroom door open a crack.
"Come on in, it's okay," Shelly said.
I came inside, and pulled over the chair that was sitting near the bathtub.  Shelly was immersed in water, as a mermaid, with her fuchia tailfin spilling over the edge.  A dark green towel covered her chest.
No problem... that's what we've always agreed upon.
"Could you hand me that top please?" Shelly asked.
There was a swimsuit top on the counter, and I handed it to her.  She then put it on, and removed the towel before sitting up in the tub.  
"How was work?" she asked.
"Pretty slow, nothing too exciting happened.  You?" I asked.
"Only came close to getting wet once.  At least the fish don't tell anyone," Shelly said.
"No, I suppose not.  Got a letter from someone... no return address on it.  Here," I said, as I handed it to her.  She held it above the water and tore it open, before tossing the envelope onto the floor as she unfolded the letter inside.
"Dear vacation seeker... you have been selected as a special guest of the Atlantis resort on sunny Paradise Island..." she began.
"It's an advertisement, figured.  Here, I'll throw it out," I said.
"Wait, not yet!  It's a coupon for a free stay, for a week long vacation!  All it costs is the price of the flight- and it's a free stay!  I can't believe it!" Shelly said, reaching over and handing it to me.
No, can't be.  She's never won anything... and a free week's vacation in the Caribbian is not something to be tossed around freely....
I sat down on the floor by the tub.  "Let's see here... all inclusive, free with flight... for one week, with a maximum of two guests.  Interesting... fine print, here we go.  You have been selected as one winner of five packages per year upon which a free week vacation is given away.  This is to help improve our marketing and create word of mouth advertising... blah blah blah...seems fairly legit."   I leaned my elbow onto Shelly's fin.
"Careful!" she cried, pulling her tail close.
"Oh, sorry," I replied.
"Do you think this is a real deal?  I know what you've been telling me about junk mail... I get it all the time on the computer," Shelly said.
"Let's find out.  There's a number here that we can call for information," I said, getting up and heading over to the phone in the other room.

I dialed the 1-800 number and was quickly connected to an operator.
"Hello, Atlantis Resort mail service operator, can I help you?" a lovely voice asked.
"Yes, I recieved a letter about a free week vacation in the mail..." I began.
"And you no doubt have questions concerning if it is authentic or not, yes?" the operator asked.
"Indeed... you must get this often," I said.
"On the contrary, as the letter states it is only done several times per year, to a random selection of people.  What is your name?" the operator asked.
"Well, the letter was actually mailed to my roomate, Shelly Starsetter," I began.
"Can you speak for her?" the operator asked.
"Yes, we're very close.  In fact, she's right here next to me, but she asked me to call," I said.
"I see... can you verify her address, then?" the operator asked.
"7515 15th Avenue South, in Richfield Minnesota," I said.
The operator made some typing noise, and then spoke again.  "Yes, that is the address we shipped the coupon to.  I can make a reservation, but I need the actual addressee to verify that she recieved the letter.  Also, there should be a confirmation number on the bottom of the coupon," the operator explained.
I took a look at the coupon, and found the number she was talking about.  "Let's see... nine digit code, right?" I asked.
"Yes, a nine digit number.  Could you read it off please?" she asked.
"764, 398, AE 540," I said.
Shelly walked into the room wearing a bathrobe with her hair wrapped in a towel.  "How's it going?” I put my index finger up.  "That verifies the confirmation number... is Miss Starsetter availble to speak?" the operator asked.
"Certainly.”  I handed Shelly the phone.  "She wants to speak to you."
"Hello?" Shelly asked.
"Hello, is this Shelly Starsetter?" the operator asked.
"Yes, that's my name," Shelly said.
"Could you state your address for the record, please?" the operator asked.
"7515 15th Ave South, in Richfield Minnesota," Shelly said.
"Wonderful.  Congratulations, you are eligble for a week long stay, all inclusive, at the Atlantis resort!  You have six months to redeem this vacation, and four months to register a reservation.  Would you like me to transfer you to the registration desk?" the operator asked.
"Wow... certainly," Shelly said.
"Yes madam, as you wish.  Thank you for calling Atlantis resort, and have a nice day.  Please hold while I transfer your call," the operator said.
"Well?" I asked as Shelly looked up.
"It's official!  We're set for a vacation there.  She's transferring me to the registration desk," she explained.
"Well... what a stroke of luck," I said.
"Atlantis resort registration office, Jacob speaking.  How can I help you today?" the man named Jacob asked Shelly over the phone.
"Hello!  My name is Shelly Starsetter... I just qualified for the complimentary week stay through the mail offer," Shelly said.
"Oh, yes madam!  Congradulations!  For verification purposes, can you read the nine digit confirmation number on the bottom of the coupon?" Jacob asked.
Shelly read the number to the operator.
"Indeed, yes indeed!  We have a match!  However, the only downside is that there is only one week that I can fit within the rules of the coupon in, the last week of May.  Reservations fill up quickly for the middle of the summer, and I'm afraid that it may be your best option," Jacob explained.
"A moment," Shelly said, before cupping the reciever.
"Of course," Jacob said.
Shelly turned to me.  "Last week in May.  Is that a bad time for you?" she asked.
Being that we were just coming to the first week, it'd probably be okay.  That, and Episode Three came out the third week, and we weren't going to miss that.
At all.
"Fourth week'll do," I said.
"Yes, that would be acceptable... after all, a free vacation is a free vacation," Shelly said.
"Wonderful... then I'll put you down from the 23rd of May until the 30th.  For planning your flight, you'll want to arrive either the evening of the 22nd or the morning of the 23rd, and plan for departure on either the 29th or 30th, depending on your arrival date.  Have you already established a flight plan?" Jacob asked.
"Er, no... I just was sent to you by another woman who confirmed that the coupon was real!" Shelly said.
"Ahh!  Then, perhaps I leave the reservation open at this time, and call you in several days for an offical on the flight.  Can I get some contact information?" Jacob asked.
"What do you need to know?" Shelly asked.
"A home phone number, or daytime phone," Jacob said.
"612-866-5052," Shelly said.
"Is that a home number?" Jacob asked.
"It is," Shelly said.
"And can we verify the address at 7515 15th Avenue South in Richfield Minnesota?" Jacob asked.
"We can," Shelly said.
"Excellent.  Then, I shall call back in 48 hours, which should be Wednesday.  Is there anything else I can do for you?" Jacob asked.
"Where do we fly into?" Shelly asked.
"You can book a flight to Miami, from where we have a charter flight for special VIP guests from Miami International to Nassau, where you'll get a shuttle service to the resort.  The charter flight from Miami is free, but you'll need to get yourself to Miami," Jacob explained.
"Then we'll get to looking right away!  Thank you so much, this is a real oppertunity," Shelly said.
"Thank you for making a reservation with us!  And I will talk to you on Wednesday, then.  Have a wonderful evening," Jacob said.
"Thank you!  Goodbye," she said, and hung up.
"It's real, huh?" I asked.
"Isn't that great?  A free week vacation!  That must be... at least a thousand dollar savings!" Shelly cried.
"VIP to the nines, I’d guess two thousand.  I'd better see if I can get off work by then," I said.
"It's a whole month... we both should be able to," Shelly said.
"Yeah... well, guess we have a flight to find.  Can you heat up that hamburger hot dish in the fridge?" I asked.
"Okay, but let me get dressed first," Shelly said.
I glanced at her outfit, a bikini top and a bottom.  "Fair enough."

A free week vacation... interesting.  And only valid during one week of the year... almost seemed too good to be true.  But, like Shel said, a free vacation is a free vacation.  I didn't pass up the fantastic deal on the house, and now she's not passing up the deal on a free vacation.  
Nothing unusual about that.

Shelly and I planned the details of our trip, and soon  it would be time to get on the flight.  As we stepped off the plane and onto the shuttle jet to Nassau, something much more detailed was being completed.

A lovely blond wearing a silver jumpsuit was being suited up as large car parts were laying on a nearby table.  Each part was designed to attach itself to the woman's jumpsuit, and was bolted on accordingly.  The parts consisted of four racing wheels, two slightly larger than the others; along with a steering device that was made up of two gloves, and a large power pack.  There also were two pieces that resembled exhaust pipes, mirrors, and several other pieces that appeared to fit very oddly.
The woman herself was lovely, well sculpted and voluptous.  She had shoulder length blond hair, but that would be tucked into a solid racing helmet.  As the workers began to sculpt the various parts onto her special suit, her curves and features became almost invisible to the work being done to her.
The four wheels were mounted along her shoulders and hips, with the larger wheels being mounted on her hips.  The power pack was mounted on and around the woman's posterior, with the two exhaust pipes attached on either side.  With help, the driver control gloves were placed onto her hands.  Two mirrors were attached to her elbows, while other various metal pieces were attached to her wrists and forearms, her knees, her waist and ankles.  Finally, two large fin-like pieces were attached to her ankles just above the soles of hard, rubber shoes.  
Inside the jumpsuit was miles and miles of technology.  Four lines from the waist ran to each shoulder or hip, and were connected to the four tires.  Two lines from the wrists to the shoulders connected the steering gloves, and lines from the metal supports to the gloves also were connected.  A line from each foot to the hips controlled braking, and then the driver's helmet and windscreen were put onto her head.  This was tight and locked on similar to a hard hat, so it wouldn't fall off at high speeds.
Her suit was complete.
"Gentlemen, I give you the Racing Suit," a lead scientist said.
The woman stood tall, about 5'8", on her two feet.  Her four tires hung from her shoulders and hips, but did not weigh so much as to hurt her back- the supports and struts had been made from a top-secret, ultralight material.  This was the same for many of the other elements of the suit, including the metal braces and the spoiler fins at her feet.
"How do you feel, Deanna?" the scientist asked.
"Fine.  Can't wait to try the road test," Deanna said.
"Then you won't have to wait long.  But first, we must take some pictures... then, we'll see how well you can do," the scientist said.
The girl huffed.  "Let me get this straight.  We have a vehicle, attached to a person as the body, that is capable of 150 MPH, tight cornering and all the looks of a woman, like myself, and it's all for a photo shoot?" Deanna asked.
"Just in case you get hurt, it'd be better if we get the pictures first," the scientist said.
"I'm the best racer in the hemisphere!  I think I can handle it," Deanna said.
"Correction, the best female racer.  And there aren't too many of you," the scientist said.
"Whatever," Deanna muttered.
"It won't take long.  Besides, if the suit's going to have any marketing appeal, you have to be comfortable in it.  It's not too heavy, is it?" the scientist asked.
"It's a little awkward, having to walk to compensate for the extra weight," Deanna said, walking around with the wheels moving from side to side.
"You'll get used to it.  Once you get to rest on all fours, then you'll be glad they're there," the scientist said.
"Doctor, shall we try the special suit reinforcers beforehand?" a second scientist asked.
"Oh, yes... please do.  Onto all fours, please," the first scientist said.
"As you wish," Deanna said.  She kneeled to the floor, and placed all four of her tires onto the ground.  With her face towards the floor, she then pressed a small button on her wrist.  This activated several parts of her suit to become stiff; among them two lines along her chest and stomach, the joints between her knees, ankles, and shoulders, and her waist.  Her arms also joined at the forearms, which held them firmly into a crossed position.  In activating the joints, her knees also left the ground and positioned her legs so that the spoiler was up a foot or two from the ground, and in a tight level even with the floor below.
"Feel okay?" the scientist asked.
All stiff, her neck and joints were forced into odd positions.  She wasn’t about to appear weak.  "Very comfortable."
"Good, then the joint pieces are working as they should.  Press the release button on your wrist and you'll be able to stand up again," the scientist said.
Deanna did so, and she found her weight pushed onto her shoulders and hips, and quickly had to slump to the ground and compensate for the extra weight from the four tires before she could stand back up.  "It's a little sensitive, but it works."
"Wonderful.  Then, let's head to the photo booth.  Let's go," the scientist said, as Deanna followed behind.  They headed towards a door, but she was too wide to fit.
"Help?" Deanna asked.
The second scientist unlatched the other half of the double-door, and allowed Deanna to walk through the rest of the way.
"Let's do this," she said.

In the front portion of the lab, a group of photographers were gathered as Deanna and the two scientists walked in, with Deanna in the middle.  An actual sportscar, an irridecent blue TVR Griffith, also sat across from the photographers in the center of the room.  The photographers were roped off behind it, so that the car was directly between Deanna and the photographers.
"Gentlemen, I present to you, Miss Deanna Wolfe with our newest invention, the Racing Suit!" the first scientist said.
"Please allow me to explain," the second scientist said, as the photographers began snapping pictures, filling the room with flashes.  
As Deanna posed for the photographers, the first scientist went aside to an event planner.
"Is everything ready?" he asked.
"Just give the signal, and during the flashes they'll hit the button," the planner said.
"It won't be long.  After the suit is turned off, we'll fire.  That way, it will affect her and the sportscar, not the suit, which is only clothing," the scientist said.
"Good.  My supervisor would be most disappointed if it didn't work like the others," the planner said.
"It will, we've planned for everything," the scientist said.
"It'd better," the planner replied.
"And that, ladies and gentlemen of the press, is how the Racing Suit Alpha works.  Deanna dear, can you start the wheels rolling please?" the second scientist asked.
"Certainly, doctor," Deanna said, and pressed a button on her wrist.  The two rear wheels on her hips began spinning slowly.
"Two wheel drive, gentlemen... but that's not all," the scientist said, as Deanna pressed another button on her wrist.  The two wheels on her shoulders also started rolling at the same speed as the ones on her hips.
The first scientist signaled to the event planner, who signaled to his contact.
"And it is capable of 150 miles per hour, with a range of over two hundred miles between charges at freeway speeds," the second scientist said.
"How much?" a photographer asked.
"It's a custom fit, but is affordable at under a hundred thousand dollars," the second scientist replied.
Deanna then turned the suit off, which is when the planner gave the signal.  Flashes from the photographers filled the room, along with a blinding white flash that eminated from the ceiling.  
Chaos!

"Please people, calm down!"
"A moment, please! Do not flee for the exits!"
Once everything was brought under control, the first scientist went to Deanna's side, to find that she had passed out.  The sportscar had vanished in thin air.
"Are you okay?" the scientist asked.
"Fine... what was that light?" Deanna asked.
"Clear the room!  We'll call you for the road test," the second scientist cried, as the security staff escorted everyone else outside.
"Deanna?  How do you feel?" the first scientist asked.
"I'm fine... just a little dazed..." she replied.
"Should we wait on the road test?" he asked.
"Yeah... can we do it tomarrow?" Deanna asked.
"Of course.  In the meantime, let's get you out of that suit," the scientist said.
"I need to get back to the resort... I have a headache all of a sudden," Deanna said, removing her helmut.
"Okay... come on, we'll need the tools to get the rest off," the scientist said.

Shelly and I were flying along in the Cessna plane that shuttled us from Miami to Nassau, overlooking the blue ocean during the 30-minute flight.
"Isn't this great?  Blue waters... hey, look there!" Shelly cried.
"Dolphins... maybe they're saying hello?" I whispered to her.
"That must be it.  Can't wait to go swimming," Shelly said.
"Only as long as nobody else knows.  We don't need any press here, remember?" I asked.
"I know!  You've only been going over it ever since we got on the flight in Minneapolis," Shelly said.
"Well, this is a place where numerous celebrities vacation, and there's always cameras around," I said.
"Well, you brought your digital too," Shelly said.
"And I plan to use it.  After all, there's tons of places around.  I figure on Friday, I'll rent us a boat and we'll find a few hideaways.  Bring a picnic lunch, and take a few pictures.  How does that sound?" I asked.
"Lovely, just lovely," Shelly replied.
"We're coming up on the island now," the pilot said.
We continued to look out, and there was Grand Bahama Island in all its glory.  Paradise Island, where the Atlantis Resort was located, was just to the north and quite impressive.
"Fantastic," I said.
"Fantasy and fabulous," Shelly said.
I kissed her on the cheek.  "Only when nobody's looking."
"We'll be landing shortly, so you'll want to hold on," the pilot said.
"Nothing holding us back, let's go!" I cried.

We landed, and were greeted by a steel drum band on our arrival.  Then, we took the van shuttle across the island, and arrived at Atlantis Resort within the hour.  We checked in, and were brought upstairs.  
"You're on the ninth floor, room 915 west.  Enjoy your stay," the receptionist said.
"Thanks Melissa, you're very kind," I replied, noting the woman's name tag just below her cleavage.
"Thank you, Mr. Claxion.  The bellboy, Lewis, will show you to your room.  Here's two keys," the receptionist said, as she handed me the card sleeves.
"Thanks," I said.
"And remember, if you need anything, just pick up the phone and press 9 for the front desk," she said.
"I will," I replied, as the bellboy came and took our bags.  Me with my one large duffle, and Shelly with her carry on and piece luggage.
"If you'll follow me, I'll take you to your room," Lewis said, and we left.

At the elevator, a tall leggy blond who appeared very worn out was waiting.  She held the door for us, and all four of us packed inside.
"Ninth floor?  Same here," Shelly said.
"Yeah," the woman said softly.
"Feeling all right?  You look beat," I said.
"I'm fine, thanks," the woman replied.
We rode the elevator to the ninth floor, and exited once the doors open.  The girl went ahead, but we ended up going the same direction as her.
"Are you folks always pretty well booked?" I asked the bellboy.
"Yes, but it keeps things interesting.  I love it here," he replied.
"Great," I said.
We came to our room, where the girl from the elevator ended up going into the room just next to ours.  The door closed, and we heard a thump.
"What was that?" I asked.
"Gregory?" Shelly asked.
"You check out the room, I'll be right back," I said, knocking on the door of room 913.

"Are you okay?" I asked, helping the girl up.
"Fine... just fainted," she replied.
"You really don't look well... too much time in the sun?" I asked.
"No, it's more complicated than that... oh, my head," the woman said.
"Do you need an Advil or something?  I've got some in my bag," I said.
"That'd be great," she said.
I went into our room, and saw that Shelly was in love with the room.
"Gregory, isn't this great?" she asked.
"It is!  Our neighbor's pretty sick, I'll be right back," I said.
"Well, don't stray too long," Shelly replied.
"Is everything good, Mr. Claxion?" the bellboy asked.
"Fine... here," I said handing him a lincoln.
"Is there a problem next door?" he asked, pocketing the bill.
"Nah, I'll take care of it.  I can handle this," I said.
"Of course.  Ring if you need anything," he said.
I then brought the advil next door, finding the woman laying on the bed.
"Here, take this," I said.  She downed the pills quickly, and said, "Thanks."
"My name is Gregory, and my friend is Shelly.  If you need anything, we'll be next door.  It's no fun being on vacation and being sick," I said.
"It's not really a vacation... but thank you.  I'm Deanna," she said.
"Nice to meet you.  Hope you feel better," I said.
"Thank you," she replied.  
I then left, and returned to our room, closing the door and latching it behind me.
"What's going on over there?" Shelly asked.
"Girl's pretty tired... you know me, I hate seeing people like that," I said.
"I know, you're just doing the right thing.  Don't go thinking that I'm not here, though," Shelly said.
"You are!  I think I want to take a nap though, before we do anything," I said.
"Agreed.  I'll be in the tub," Shelly said.
"I'll be on the bed," I replied.

Some quiet time passed, and the heat of the day seeped into the rooms of the hotel.  Our air conditioner had been on and was keeping the place fairly cool, but for the room next door things were not so comfortable.
Deanna had been sleeping on the bed, and as she laid in the sunnier of the two beds her temperature slowly rose.  Soon, it reached a point where she began to sweat.  Since she was currently in a deep sleep, she didn't notice anything.  
For example, the sudden occurance of her hands turning into wheels.