the charges “offensive and calculated,” Theresa demanded a hearing of the Golden Roses Council of Elders, two of whom recused themselves citing a conflict of interest. But after hearing the evidence, the council’s verdict stood. Bailey was officially named Little Miss Golden Roses while Starr was given the insulting title of Honorary First Runner-up. It was a slap in the face Theresa refused to accept, and she vowed to pull her marquee daughter from all future pageants sponsored by the Golden Roses Organization. However, Theresa’s refusal to appeal the elders’ decision lent credence to the rumors, which had grown to orgiastic proportions throughout the circuit.
Miranda hated Theresa’s liposuctioned guts. Everything about the woman made her want to vomit: her sun-damaged skin, bleached blond hair, the way she stuffed herself into her tight Target jeans and clomped around like a Clydesdale in her Jessica Simpson stilettos. She looked exactly like the aging Florida stripper she was rumored to be. All that being said, Miranda found it hard not to admire Theresa’s Machiavellian approach to competition. Nothing short of physically assaulting another contestant was off-limits. Bailey had fallen victim to her psychological warfare many times, most recently at the Sweet Ray of Sunshine Invitational (Pigeon Forge, Tennessee) six months prior.
“Good gracious, Bailey!” Theresa said, seeing Bailey backstage, “look at your feet!”
Bailey had grown immune to Miranda’s criticism, but Theresa was a master at finding someone’s softest spot and plunging an acrylic nail into it.
“What’s wrong with them?” the girl asked softly.
“They’re so big. Are you wearing clown shoes?”
Theresa laughed at her “joke,” then put her arm around Bailey’s shoulder to physically sense the peak of the girls’ vulnerability and went in for the kill.
“Now, don’t you worry about a thing, sweetie. Not everyone thinks big feet are nasty. My granny had big feet, and she could climb a tree like a monkey! Just be careful and don’t trip, ’cause that would be really embarrassing. Not to mention, you’d definitely lose to Starr again. Anywho, looks like you still need to put your face on, so I’ma go. Good luck.”
She then used her bony thumb to wipe an inky black tear from Bailey’s cheek, and winked at Miranda, who stood by speechless, in awe of that bitch’s game.
Theresa’s warning became a self-fulfilling prophecy, and Bailey stumbled during her gymnastics routine, giving Starr the title, her third that week. Across the room, Miranda shot daggers at Theresa, who returned them with a frosty, shit-eating shrug.
Four months later, Miranda sent a gift basket of barbeque from Theresa’s brother-in-law’s restaurant to the judges of the upcoming Cinderella Model Search and Pageant (Bowling Green, Kentucky). The enclosed card read, “Be sure to suck the bones! Love, T.” Miranda then filed an anonymous complaint accusing Theresa of bribing the judges with gifts of food, an offense expressly forbidden in the Cinderella bylaws. Citing lingering questions surrounding Theresa’s history of judge tampering and wanting to avoid even a hint of impropriety, the Cinderella Organization banned Starr from competition without so much as a hearing. It turned out to be a wasted effort. While attempting a complicated series of back handsprings in a new gymnastics routine, Bailey snagged her toe on the hem of her skirt and fell, landing her as First Runner-up.
“That effing skank, ” Miranda muttered. The reality show had to be about Starr, who else? Besides Bailey, there weren’t many contestants who warranted that level of exposure. Karolynne Simpson was a possibility, but she hadn’t been truly competitive since her father ran off to Miami with that Vietnamese lady-boy he met on Craigslist. Cashburn Tinsley? Surely that wonky eye prevented her from being on TV since it consistently prevented her from winning a title.
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