Modelland (29 page)

“Oh!” Chaste took a big whiff. “It smells like honey-roasted almonds and oysters steeped in pomegranate juice!”

“
No
, it smells like virgin olive oil bread with only a slight hint
of mold, which is okay because it can be sliced off, and a half-eaten pheasant!” Zarpessa swooned before stopping herself.

Dylan’s nose twitched. “Bou-Big-Tique pizza pie,” she murmured, her eyelids fluttering with pleasure. “Where is it, baby? Where
is
it?”

And when the smoke trail reached Tookie, she smelled delectable whipped cream.

Suddenly, the pipes leading to the large copper kettles began to tremble. Fifteen harnesses dropped from the ceiling, dangling above each vat. Zarpessa leapt to her feet. “There’s food in there!”

“All your favorites,” Guru Lauro said. “Find your food receptacle and then climb inside the harness!”

Tookie followed her nose to the vat she was sure was hers, climbed into the harness, and dangled over it. And … ohhh. What a delicious spread it was! About a hundred cans of different types of whipped cream—heavy cream, light cream, vanilla cream, all spewing their contents into the air. She tried to grab some of the white stream, but her hands didn’t quite reach. “Darn it!” she cried in frustration.

Next to her, Dylan groped fruitlessly as well. Chaste let out a breathy whimper. “Why can’t we eat?”

“This is cruel and unusual punishment!” Zarpessa cried.

With a wave of the Guru’s hand, a round white kitchen timer appeared on the stainless steel table and counted off the seconds with loud, jarring ticks. After about ten seconds, the timer dinged, and each girl’s harness lowered closer to her vat
—almost
close enough to touch the bounty. Tookie groped for the whipped cream cans until her arms ached. She was so hungry her head was beginning to spin.

Lauro strolled around the room, dipping a finger into each girl’s slop. “Outstanding pizza pie,” she told Dylan.

“The perfect blend of acidity and sweetness,” she said about Kamalini’s samosas. And she plucked one of the Likees’ breath mints from their shared vat and slipped it into her pocket. “I’ll save this for later. Roo jerky leaves your breath so rancid it makes koalas fall out of the gum trees.”

She plucked a can marked
Heavy Creamiest Cream
from Tookie’s giant vat and squirted it into her mouth. “Brilliant!” she announced. A glob of whip remained on her lips.

The timer dinged again and the harnesses dropped a few more inches. Tookie’s arms swung. Her legs kicked. She … could … almost … get one … but then the harness recoiled and she and all the girls sprang all the way back up. Everyone groaned.

“Patience, Bellas,” Lauro chanted. “Patience.”

Brrrrrt!
The kitchen timer bleated so forcefully it vibrated right off the table. Lauro clapped, and instantly the harnesses went all the way down, allowing the girls’ heads and hands to reach their food.

Yes!
Tookie grabbed some cans, inverting them and squeezing endless streams of whipped cream into her mouth. Then she did it again and again and again, tossing spent cans to the side and reaching for new ones right away. In no time, her face was covered in cream, her brand-new Modelland uniform slopped with goop, and her arms dripped with dissolved froth. As she brought another can to her mouth, it slipped out of her hands and plopped right into her oversized flower brooch.

Tookie glanced down, befuddled. Somehow, the pin had swallowed up the can. But when she reached into the center of the
brooch,
voilà!
Her fingers curled around the top of the can once more.

It’s a secret food receptacle
, she marveled.
A mini refrigerator! Just like I had in my dumbwaiter locker at B3
.

The class continued to gorge with gusto. Dylan closed her eyes and slowly relished every bite of Bou-Big-Tique pie, laughing like a lunatic after each swallow. Chaste slurped the pomegranate juice. Zarpessa stuck her entire face into a brew of fish chunks, clumps of old spaghetti with coagulated carbonara sauce, half-eaten sandwiches, and gooey yellowish rice. The Likees stared nervously at their vat of multicolored sugar-free breath mints. Finally, each girl used a thumb and index finger to pick one up, and placed it under her tongue. Kamalini was the only one who seemed unfazed, eating with calm, measured bites, savoring the experience.

The vats of food tipped over, the contents spilling onto the floor. The Bellas groaned in unison, still unfulfilled. The empty vats rose to the ceiling and hovered there, and the harnesses released, spilling the girls straight into the food slop. Almost everyone, even Tookie, recoiled at the blended ingredients. Only Zarpessa crawled houndlike on all fours, her head down, scraping the floor to retrieve the vile vittles with her tongue and incisors. It was even crazier than the way she’d scuttled around in the Dumpster behind the restaurant in Peppertown.

The vats then crashed to the floor and morphed into elevators, one per girl. Guru Lauro gestured to them. “Even though Tookie already had dessert, you other Bellas haven’t! Get in, mates!”

The girls boarded the food-vat carriages. The elevators didn’t go up or down, however, but slid across the floor and transported everyone to a nearby building.

The sound of gushing water filled the air. The elevator doors opened, revealing a bank of group showers in a shiny facility of chrome and translucent surfaces. But the liquid spurting from the nozzles was anything but clear. One nozzle spurted rich cassis. Another spouted thick deep-brown liquid. Another showerhead’s waterfall was a rich tan hue. The smell tickled Tookie’s nostrils. Lovely scents filled the air. Caramel. Boysenberry. And …

“Marshmallow!” Dylan swooned, eyeing the fluffy confection streaming from the showerhead. She looked as though she was about to faint.

“I’m showering you with sweet treats, mates!” Guru Lauro encouraged them. “Go for gold!”

The girls rushed to the showers—all except the Likees, who stood on the sidelines, sucking their mints. Chaste checked to make sure the Guru wasn’t watching, then knocked down a brunette girl as she gunned for the dark chocolate shower. Tookie ran over to the fallen brunette, scooped her up, and then made a break for the salted caramel stream, cupping her hands under the faucet and burying her face in her palms. Zarpessa stuck her mouth under a maple syrup spray, but her showerhead jammed as it forced out broken bits of pecan pralines. Letting out a frustrated wail, she ripped the fixture from the wall, allowing a solid stream of maple pecan praline sauce to flow directly into her wide-open mouth. Kamalini let about nine heaping tablespoons of pistachio coulis drip onto her tongue, emitted a pleasant squeal, and wiped her chin clean, being extra careful to not let her Headbangor get soaked.

Dylan dove headlong into the marshmallow shower. The liquid covered her hair and face and melted over her uniform, legs,
and arms. There was a look on her face as if her actions were involuntary. “It’s so good,” she kept crying. “Just so good!”

“Last lick, Bella mates!” Lauro bellowed, and moments later, the showers all dried up. Moans and groans filled the room. “I hope you enjoyed the feast as much as I enjoyed feeding you. Now it’s time for the lesson on Jammers, Chowers, and Poachers.”

She approached the oyster-and-chocolate-covered Chaste, pulled a green stamp from under her chef/cowboy hat, and pressed it on Chaste’s wrist. “Hey!” Chaste said. She stared at her new brand.
Gut Chower
, it said in square green letters.

“You ate very slowly, and when you reached your perfect amount, you stopped, never getting overfull,” Lauro explained.

“That’s the first time anyone has ever told me it’s good to
stop
even when something feels really good.” Chaste licked a bit of leftover chocolate off her thumb.

Lauro glared at her.

Then Guru Lauro circled the room. Kamalini also got a
Gut Chower
stamp for eating steadily and continuously and for eating the side of Vitamin C–loaded spiced cauliflower that had come with her samosas. Then Lauro approached the Likees. When the four girls stuck out their hands, their stamps glowed red and said
Gut Poacher
.

“We need to talk, ladies,” Lauro said quietly. “You’re restricting nutrients your Bella belly needs. And feeling awful about nutrients you
do
get.”

The Likees stiffened. “That’s. Not. True. Guru.”

The Guru gave them a warm look. “When you want help, I hope you give me a bell.”

When Guru Lauro approached Zarpessa, only half of the stamp
would materialize in the Guru’s hands—the word Gut. “Okay, Zarpessa, I must admit, with all
roo
respect, your munching habits are doing my head in. For now, one thing’s for sure: you have a gut. So here ya go, mate.” And she stamped Zarpessa plain and simple
Gut
.

Then she approached Tookie. A red stamp marred Tookie’s hand:
Gut Jammer
.

“You eat with the voraciousness of a preggers Tasmanian devil during her first trimester,” Lauro explained. “However, your stomach is telling me that it’s never full. Is this true?”

Tookie nodded.
This woman really can read my stomach’s mind
.

“All the tummy stuffing in the world won’t fill out your fragile frame, mate. Not anytime soon, anyway. When you reach your twenties, your rear may begin to plump up, and then you’ll be cryin’ a different tune. Until then—and even
after
then—be happy with what the looking glass tells ya. It ain’t half bad, kid.”

Ain’t half bad
, Tookie thought. It was as though Lauro had told her she was the most beautiful girl in the world.

Finally, Lauro walked over to Dylan, who was still licking residual marshmallow off the webby spaces between her fingers. She red-stamped her hand
Gut Jammer
too. “You’re also a shoveler.”

“Just today I am,” Dylan said quickly. “I haven’t guzzled like that in I don’t know how long—really. And anyway, can you blame me? I was starved!”

Lauro gave her an I-know-better look. “I’m also picking up that food has an emotional effect on you.”

Dylan froze. “No it doesn’t.”

The Guru held Dylan’s gaze. Dylan lowered her eyes.

Then Lauro tucked the stamps back into her hat and faced
the class. “For the few of you who will make it all the way to Intoxibella status, there are few things that will challenge you more than food. What to have, when to have it, how to have it, whether to have it. Starvation and oversatiation are not acceptable, mates. Models are known for restricting their food or going on binges, but that’s not what we’re going for here. And besides …” Guru Lauro trailed off, making a face. “Those lolli-headed leading ladies restrict as well.
Worse
than models, in my roo opinion. But here, moderation is what we’re going for. One of the things I’ll be teaching you here is how to find your
balance
. All your future meals will be designed by me. How you eat is important to your success. I hate to sound like I’m up myself, but this is the most important class you’ll be taking at Modelland.”

“Yeah, yeah, our last Guru said that too,” Chaste said, rolling her eyes.

The girl named Bibiana from Terra BossaNova raised her hand. “What do you mean, future meals designed for us? I’m so full, I feel like I don’t need to eat for a week.”

A smile stretched across the Guru’s lips. She tipped her chef/cowboy hat again, and the same yellow smoke swirled. “Here’s a little present from you to me. The gift of renewed appetite! You’re now so hungry, you could eat the ass out of a low-flying duck!”

The dessert showers retracted into the floors, revealing an entryway into an enormous room filled with modular tables lying within cutouts in the floor. The wall to the left contained floor-to-ceiling windows, the BellaDonna statue clearly visible through the glass. The wall to the right was made of hundreds of tiny glass doors, each with a mouthwatering dish of food inside it.
The doors were separated into color-coded sections and labeled with the three designations that Lauro had given the girls in the shower room: Gut Chower, Gut Jammer, Gut Poacher. The wall in front of the girls boasted the name of the establishment in large letters: EATZ.

“I get it,” Tookie said. “
M
is Modelland,
O
is Opera,
D
is Dorms, and
E
is—”

“Eatz,” Zarpessa interrupted sarcastically. “
Wow
. You’re so brilliant.”

Dylan narrowed her eyes.

“There has to be an L,” Tookie said, ignoring Zarpessa.

“Yeah, stands for L’idiot,” Zarpessa mumbled under her breath. “Like
you.
”

“How about Lame-o,” Dylan spat back, unable to hold it in any longer. “Like you.”

Zarpessa’s eyes blazed. “Lardass!”

Chaste snickered.

Dylan whipped around to face Chaste. “Loose Lucy!”

“Loudmouth!” Zarpessa retorted, a little bit of spit spewing from her mouth. “Leech lizard!”

“Lay off! Lay off!” Tookie interrupted, inserting herself between the two of them.

Dylan turned away, but she was smiling wide, having gotten in the last
L
insult. Chaste and Zarpessa shot Tookie and Dylan looks that seemed to say
Just you wait, hags. You’ve done it now
.

An upperclassBella approached the Eatz wall and spoke into a large pair of lips. “AmberJoi of AngelCity, cream of wheatgrass soup and a side of wheat toast with butter.” With a brief chime,
a door opened and a steaming bowl shot out. In it was the most hideous-looking grass-green soup Tookie had ever seen.

“This is the E, Bellas,” Lauro announced. “Your cafeteria. And I am its executive chef. Enjoy, ladies. Dine! Appreciate! But please—try to find
balance.
”

“We’re supposed to dine
now?
” Zarpessa looked nervously from the upperclassBellas to the rotting food all over her uniform. “We look certifiable!”

“I know, mate,” Lauro replied. A roo jerky materialized in front of her again, and she chased after it, pinning it with her chopsticks and popping it in her mouth. “But no Bella’s first day is complete without a stinky, sloppy, slimy trip to the E. Just another part of earning your keep here at Modelland.
Bon appétit!
”