There was no need to turn on the soap operas or reality trash on the TV at 8422 Fordham Avenue, as Phoebe had brought plenty of drama with her when she was relieved from work.
Usually one to cuddle in her pillows and sob hysterically for days whenever she was down in the dumps from a lost boyfriend or the like, Phoebe's developing appetite had led her down the more calorific intensive approach as she had cleared the freezer of its ice cream pints. She had them arranged around her at the breakfast nook. Even though it was these kinds of habits that had led her to her current predicament.
To drown out her sorrows in ice cream, Phoebe had dressed down to little more than her night clothes and a bathrobe. The sash was tied loose so Phoebe's growing pudge and bulbous backside were easily visible.
"I was going to be a star!!" cried Phoebe as she spooned candy bar crunch into her mouth. "They had scouted my agency and said I had just the right look."
In looks, Phoebe was a knockout. For acting...well, a lot could be done with editing. All through initial rehearsals it was shown that Phoebe needed those acting classes at college but fostering talent was less expensive than dealing with more credible actress's demands. Still, she had been partnered with an understudy, Michelle, both to improve her acting during training and as a back up in case Phoebe was ever disposed. While her chemistry with the other stars wasn't as great (as the part required being boy crazy, which Phoebe could do in her sleep) she had more of an acting background and could uncannily nail Phoebe's look after plenty of makeup.
What nobody had expected, nor had Phoebe fully come to terms with, was their aspiring lead porking-up! It had been pandemonium after Phoebe's tights had split on set. She was bawling her eyes out, staffers were trying to assist her and make her look decent, shooting that day was postponed until the afternoon. As for the director, who had gotten by with Phoebe's flirty tendencies, he couldn't deny that Phoebe's ass looked damn fine even as it was fat! But the wardrobe malfunction was the last scrape of the proverbial iceberg. Phoebe's stomach and thighs had also taken their share of weight and that didn't match the vision of the character for the TV show.
So the waterworks were renewed afresh when Phoebe had to be told she was being replaced.
"I can't believe them!!" She licked a heaping spoonful of mint chip. "They said I no longer 'got it.' I thought I was just 'getting it!' You know?"
Phoebe had been pouring her heart out unwarranted to any of her roommate's time as she continued her spiel and pity ice cream party. Mint chip joined the growing pile of emptied candy bar crunch, rainbow sorbet, dulce le duce, and banana's foster cartons.
"Not really?" came the reply, as her reluctant listener passed over the tissue box as Phoebe blew her nose for the umpteenth time.
Was it Reagan, Audrey, Uma or Ixchel listening to Phoebe's woes?
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