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The Irreverent Mandy Jack

By: Egmont0409



CHAPTER 1

Mandy Jack had another of those useless thoughts: Why had she given up smoking?

For health reasons you useless dope, she sniffed, waiting for coffee. She wished she could have thought useless slut but a guy hadn't popped her for close to a month and so the word slut was inappropriate. Also why give yourself a bad name?

God she was bored. She hadn't found work since returning home fifteen months ago.

No sex was a worry. What was happening? Had she lost her sex appeal overnight or had half the city's eligible males turned gay?

"Enjoy," said the surly waitress, dropping the coffee in front of Mandy. Liquid sloshed into the saucer.

"I'll get your another coffee."

"Don't bother," Mandy sighed.

"I don't drink coffee here," said the waitress with a knowing smile.

What the hell did that mean?

Mandy took a sip and almost spat it out.

It tasted like shit. Er, whatever. Certainly not like top coffee. Ownership of the coffee shop had been taken over by foreigners.

She left the liquid masquerading for coffee and walked out, still thirsty.

The twenty-four-year-old with an MA in Art History (19th Century) eyed the bar across the street, knowing her parents didn't like her frequenting bars... and probably not brothels although that had never been discussed. It scared her witless just thinking about entering one to try the male service or perhaps a female whore if they had any under forty. God their dorm in her final year at college would have made a brothel look like a church, only she had no idea of how much of a cesspit was a house of ill repute.

Conscious that her parents were continuing to fully support her, otherwise she may have starved to death or fallen into prostitution (that may have meant an early death anyway), Mandy ignored the bar and walked down the street for fifty yards before temptation won through. She crossed over and walked up the street and entered the bar.

The bar was empty apart from the bored bartender and a guy at a table.

He called, "Hi gorgeous."

She ignored him.

He tried again. "Hi Mandy."

Startled she turned, recognized him and said, "Hi Harris."

"Buy you a drink?"

"Yes please. Single shot vodka on the rocks."

"Kate?"

"I heard," said the bargirl.

Mandy went over to Harris who rose and kissed her, flush on the lips. So she flushed.

Harris went over to fetch her drink and Mandy recalled who he was, the youngest son of Rev. and Mrs Walsh, good friends of her mother although none of their family ever attended church except for births, deaths and marriages and there had been quite a few of those in Mandy's time in her extended family.

"You're looking great. Who's fucking you?" Harris said, sitting and sliding her drink over and picking up his bottle of beer.

Mandy thought he couldn't have said that, not the son of a minister.

"Same guy who's shafting you," she grinned and was relived he greeted that with a full laugh.

"God you are funny."

Mandy looked nervously at the ceiling. A minister's son saying God like that could produce a thunderbolt.

But none came.

Harris looked up at the ceiling and asked, "Looking for copulating flies?"

"I wasn't aware they did it upside down."

He laughed again and then asked her what she was doing.

"You've already asked who was shafting me."

"No I mean what are you doing to put bread on the table or in your case to clothe your back and finance expensive cocktails, beauty treatment and holidaying in exotic locations with your girlfriends?"

"I returned from college just over a year ago and haven't managed to dredge up a suitable job yet."

"What is your degree?"

"An MA in Art History, 19th Century."

"And none of the private galleries of the city gallery want to hire you?"

"No."

"Because you have insufficient experience and that degree is of no particular interest to them?"

"You're partly right. The reason given for rejection was my lack of experience."

"How did they get experience?"

Mandy grinned. "I actually asked them all that and the replies were similar. When they hit the job market it was in boom times and people were employing, unlike now."

"So who is shafting you?"

"I have been under utilized."

"Oh too bad. You've filled out since we last met some years ago. I can't believe that no guy is regularly plowing your furrow."

Mandy wondered if she'd got it wrong, that Harris' father was not the Rev. Walsh.

"What is your father's occupation?"

"He's still a clergyman. Why?"

"You don't talk like a minister's son."

Harris laughed and said if she thought he was coarse in what he said, she ought to listen to his sisters, both of whom were married. "It's something to do with breaking out from the childhood regime that everything must be good otherwise you must read the bible for an hour or each misdemeanor and/or be birched."

"Truly? In early times artists brilliantly portrayed incidents of flaying and self-mutilation."

"Eh."

"Painting by notable artists of past centuries."

"Oh, I thought you were talking about some of those sickening websites."

"No I wasn't talking about self-gratification of sick-minded people; I was referring to attempted religious redemption through inflicted pain and suffering."

"Wow, I'd never thought about art depicting real life drama like that."

Mandy looked astonished. "Then what did you think those painters were doing whose work hangs in our galleries or is brilliantly reproduced in very expensive books?"

"Painting?"

"Oh god," Mandy sighed.

Grinning guiltily as if conceding he was either a moron or a Philistine, Harris said, "What is your answer to my invitation to a movie and to dinner and then you know what?"

"That seems a big program for one night."

"Eh?" The poor guy scratched through his curly blond locks as if mining enlightenment.

"That was a joke to allow me time to think and what I though was had you actually asked me for a date?"

"I'm sure I did."

"That has an edge of doubt to it."

"Jesus, little wonder you haven't scored with a job. Talking to you is like being put through the Inquisition."

"You know about the Inquisition?"

"I went through school and college."

"Oh I'm surprised. And what is your degree?"

"Just a BA in Fine Arts, Journalism and then an online MBA."

"Oh how fascinating but your studies left you with a big hole in culture and humanities?"

"Eh?"

Mandy sighed and this time Harris lifted an arm and scratched the armpit, obviously feeling uncomfortable at being put through the mill. She called, "Same again Kate and this time bring them over."

"Yes ma'am."

Harris appeared surprised. "Jesus, you motivated that lazy bitch."

"It was simply the command in my voice your Bozo. Her ancestors probably were foot soldiers in England and were honed on centuries of being bullied."

Harris went to say "Eh?" but stopped. When Kate came over with the drinks he asked slyly, "Where were your forebears from Kate?"

"My mother's line came through Spanish settlers in Argentina."

Harris grinned knowingly at Mandy.

"My father's people were very English, some serving in The Crusades as foot soldiers and in wars against France."

Mandy winked at Harris who turned scarlet.

"Why do you ask Harris?"

Harris appeared to swallow his tongue.

"He was telling me he thought you might have Italian or Spanish blood because your skin is so beautiful," Mandy said.

Kate gaped. "Harris you've never paid me a compliment before. Wow."

The bartender smiled at him hugely and walked away humming.

Mandy also smiled. "You appear well positioned to screw Kate you dirty young man."

"Mandy, please," Harris said weakly. "Kate's married to a guy with fists the size of hams."

He was told then he shouldn't say flirty things to married women.

"Eh?"

Mandy told him she was off home and he said he was off to work.

"What do you work at Harris?"

"My maternal grandparents own the Melrose Eagle and I made quite an impact when I joined the newspaper. They recently appointed me editor."

"Good for you. Then you can find me a job."

"We employ contract cleaners."

Mandy laughed and walking off told him to call for her at 7:00 on Saturday evening. "Do you supply condoms or am I expected to bring my own?"

"He re-uses them ma'am," Kate sniggered.

"Good one Kate, call me Mandy in future. I'm Mandy Jack."

"What Mayor Jack's daughter?"

"Yes, my mom has the distinction of that title and my dad owns and operates Jack's Quarries."

"Bye Mandy. My dad is a clerk in the accounts receivable section at City Hall."

"I'll tell mom I know his daughter Kate," Mandy waved.

Mandy was walking home when a SUV drew up alongside her.

"Jump in and I'll drop you off at your home."

"No thanks Harris. I'm walking to try to burn fat off my ass."

Harris lifted up to look out the front seat passenger's window but the sill was too high for him to check out Mandy's ass. 

"I've been thinking. Want to work for the newspaper as a freelance columnist writing a column about anything you wish, within reason, for publication on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays going back page of the front section. I'll pay you four hundred bucks."

"What per column?"

"No per week, a three-month contract that could be renewed if you are doing well. We'll need two columns in reserve in case you fall ill or the news editor pulls a column as being unacceptable for our newspaper."

"Oh I suppose I could do that. It means I could take other work as well, doesn't it?

"Only for our company. The payment is for exclusive use of your talents. My instinct tells me you are not without talent to generate and produce interesting columns."

"Damn right and I assure you I pose no risk to your good judgment in hiring me. Now that you're my boss you can't fuck me Saturday night."

"Aw come on Mandy."

"Are you married or engaged Harris?"

"No."

"Then I suppose my stance on sex with you is negotiable."

"Bye," Harris grinned, taking off burning rubber.

Mandy was left flushed in delight and glad she'd not accepted offers to work for either of her parents, telling them she preferred her allowance and living at home at their expense. They knew not to believe her and knew she'd prove an embarrassment working for them because she was so outspoken and lacked personal discipline. In fact there was doubt if she possessed any personal discipline.

Mayor Jack was entertaining five women for lunch when Mandy appeared.

"Oh ladies, this is my daughter Mandy.

Rhonda Jack completed the introductions and invited Mandy to join them.

"No thanks mom. I'll grab a couple of bottles of beer and swim some lengths. You continue with entertaining these fine ladies."

"Mandy please change into a swimsuit."

"Anyone embarrassed by raw flesh should look away mom."

"Ladies, you heard Mandy, She's such a brat. One would think she was fourteen rather than twenty-four."

When Mandy arrived with a bottle of Coke and stood beside the pool, the two women with their backs to the pool stood and turned their chairs around and sat facing the pool and picked up their wine glass.

"God what a body," said Anna, the district attorney's wife.

"I think I possess a memory of my body looking something like that," said Harris' mom Lisa and her mother beside her said she was never allowed to see her body when she was young.

Everyone laughed and Rhonda was asked what Mandy worked at.

"She's without a job. She has a degree in art history. Wrong choice of degree I'm afraid."

"That's unfair Rhonda," said the wife of the chief executive at City Hall. "She'll be highly educated and all she requires is adaptability. "I'll ask John to place her."

"No she refuses to work at City Hall or our quarries," Rhonda sighed. "She says being a full-on person she doesn't wish to risk embarrassing us in our employ."

"With a body like that I could employ her as our chief model for women with fuller figures," said the chief executive of Melrose City Mall.

The middle-aged women, now with their private thoughts, watched the undressed nubile woman dive into the pool and begin a measured swimming rhythm, indicating professional coaching.

"Oh god, if I were young again," said Marcia, wife of the city DA.

"Amen," said some of her fellow diners who were eating much too much for the good of their figures.

All but two of the guests had department when Mandy completed her one hundred and fifty lengths, thereabouts, according to the clock at the far end of the pool.

She dressed and went over and joined her mom and Harris's mom Lisa and grandmother Marjorie for coffee.

"One of my grandsons Harris could be interest in you," Marjorie said.

"He already is. We met today in, er, a coffee shop. I knew him as a kid and we had a great time catching up. I'm going to work for him as a columnist."

"But we don't employ columnists," said his grandmother.

"Well you do now. I have accepted a three-month contract. He really interrogated me Mrs Allen. I assure you I'm not totally a flighty, in-your-face bitch. I do possess and exercise values that induce people in the know to label me as rather complex character. The reality is I'm just a gal from Melrose whose decided she should just be herself if she wishes to get on in this world and to obliterate her critics by her power and her achievements."

Marjorie's eyes appeared to be spinning. "You said 'Obliterate her critics by her power and her achievements'. That's really strong talk for a woman Mandy."

"I'm up to it Mrs Allen. If you think I'm an unsuitable person to be stirring up the community through your newspaper, despite my using moderate language and clinging to memories of what was judged to be generally acceptable taste, I'll walk away from my contract that I've yet to sign."

"Young woman do that and I'll have you birched."

"Oh you ought not tempt me."

Marjorie, her mother and Lisa roared with laughter.

"Ohmigod," wheezed Marjorie, clutching her chest. "I don't think I've ever met any woman who expresses herself like you."

And so the career of an influential newspaper columnist was launched.

CHAPTER 2

Harris came down wearing a baggy shirt, baggy trousers and scruffy shoes. His mother practically palpitated herself into suffocation.

Lisa gasped, "Harris you can't go out dressed like that. It's Saturday night."

He told Lisa, "Mandy is about as unconventional as any woman you know. She will be dressed in, er, a poncho with boy shorts and white tap shoes."

"This girl is blowing you brain Harris. Be very, very careful."

"Yes mom,"

Mandy came down the stairs and appeared before her mom dressed in a Spandex skintight blue trouser suit under a white jacket and matching blue boots.

Rhonda looked in despair at the stupid young man who greeted her daughter by gaping and said 'Jesus'. God why couldn't men be born with a brain?

As the couple drove off Mandy said, "Could we skip the movie and go to dinner?"

"Er yes."

Eating a curried chicken and rice dish Mandy said sweetly, "Do we fuck after this? I'm eating lightly."

Harris felt his voice was set at the right pitch and said "Yes" and pushed his half eaten steak away.

They went to his office that had a full-width leather sofa.

"Oh leather. Good, your cum leaking from me won't be difficult for you to remove."

Harris coped admirably. "No cum will be leaking from you dearest; I'll siphon it up with my mouth."

"Oh god," Mandy sighed. "I've found a real man at last."

Mandy admired the length of Harris's dick as he hauled it out but gulped when she saw the head on it was about quarter the size of a pot of facial night cream. Oh god, she thought, feeling her pussy quivering, she imagined in terror.

But it went fine. She ended up bent over the end of the sofa screaming for it and when Harris obliged the head of his dick just slid into her because she was oozing excessively after their ultra-sexy preamble.

In Mandy's opinion men were bereft imbeciles when it came to foreplay. But Harris was so passionately into it that at one stage she almost thought she'd climax through her upper mouth. It must be understood Mandy regarded the entrance to her pussy as a mouth because of the interest guys showed in tonguing it.

They fucked themselves to a standstill and went to sleep.

When Harris awoke with the office clock indicating it was 4:00 am Mandy, already dressed, said curtly, "Get dressed and we're off. I don't want your mom to think you were out all night with a slut."

Wondering what was the difference between 4:00 and 2:00 am or for that matter 6:00, Harris did what he was told simply because Mandy looked ready to steam through her nose and whack his ear.

Lisa arrived in Harris' bedroom at 7:00 with two coffees and was surprised Mandy was not alongside him.

"Did you do something wrong?"

"Not according to the way she reacted then I swamped her with two huge ejaculations."

"Harris!" wheezed his mom.

"Oops sorry. I was reliving last night. Mom, she can talk with authority, act with authority and is one helluva fuck."

"I'm sure she is darling. I must get ready to accompany your father to church and sort him out there as he's apt to be forgetful under pressure. I'm so happy for you as Gran and I have wanted you to find a real woman because you tend to be a little wishy-washy."

"Mom when up Mandy I'm feeling like Neil Armstrong walking on the moon."

His mom, rather embarrassed with her son talking to her so candidly gurgled, "Oh darling, you're such a clever boy finding her " and fled, not hearing Harris say Mandy had actually found him.

Mandy awoke not long after 10:00 and felt a little stiff and sore, the welcome legacy from being in action again and doing the thing she'd appeared on earth to do. Long may it last! She wriggled in delight at the memory of having Harris's dick shoved into her mouth and then when he began puffing and twisting around and groaning she'd raked her teeth sharply around it and along it until whacking against the collar of his huge cock head and he shot two huge streams down her throat. The poor guy, looking a little like death warmed up, fell over, his strength almost totally drained momentarily.

She almost bleated at the though of him attempting to get that thick-ended cudgel up her ass. No way. Absolutely. Now that he'd fucked her Mandy thought she'd like to position herself so she got that treatment from him at least once a day.

Mandy's parents usually wallowed in sex on Sunday mornings so they'd not been long out of bed when she arrived for late breakfast to find they'd waited for her.

"This guy you were out with last night," said her father sternly. "Why didn't he come in for us to get a good look at him?"

Her mother appeared to be awaiting the answer although pretending not to be interested.

"He knows you both so was a little embarrassed at coming in, knowing what he intended doing with me."

Greg scratched his head. "What's embarrassing about going to a movie unless it's triple-X rated?"

His wife sighed, "She means having sex afterward you fool."

Mandy's father pulled his thumb and forefinger down his nose as if preparing to attack. "Are you sure you should be talking sex to your parents Mandy?"

"Yes because it would be quite wrong with you two thinking it's something exclusive to you. I'm sorry to be the person responsible for destroying that delusion."

She could hear her mom behind her stifling a giggle.

Her father rose to his full height of six three and splayed his elbows, making his shoulders appear enormous.

"Pull your beer gut in if you want to imitate a He-man dad otherwise you appear pathetic."

Greg looked quite hurt but brightened when Mandy said, "You still look in pretty good shape dad. I still remember how you dwarfed the fathers of my school friends and when you visited college how many of the girls thought they'd like a piece of you."


The Irreverent Mandy Jack



"Mandy!"

"Woops, sorry mom. Um he's Harris Walsh, editor of our newspaper."

Greg looked surprised and then smiled and said well there would be no improper behavior from the Rev. Walsh's son.

"No dad, we just had conventional sex, although plenty of it. Remember sex between two consenting adults is not illegal except for a few forbidden instances."

Rhonda said, "You had sex on your first date with that young man?"

"Yes mom. He'd been told I had a lot of catching up to do."

Her mom agreed. "Yes I can accept that."

Her father had the look of someone who'd got left behind in the conversation.

"Harris was recently inducted into my Rotary Club and is our youngest member."

Mother and daughter looked bewildered, wondering what was the relevance of that comment from Greg.

"Are Rotarians prohibited from having sex?" Mandy whispered to her mother. Her mother whispered no one had ever mentioned that to her.

After breakfast Mandy wrote her first column and invited Harris over for a swim at 4:00 and then drinks with her and her parents.

"Do they want to look me over?"

"Yes, that's exactly it. They are worried you can't have sex with me because you're a Rotarian."

"Eh?"

Mandy cut the call, almost rolling on the floor she was laughing so much.

Harris arrived at 4:10 wearing a dark suit, tugging at his tie and carrying a bouquet of flowers.

He kissed Mandy and said these flowers are for her mom.

"Why?"

"I-I don't know. It just seemed the right thing to do."

"And I agree with that Harris," said Rhonda. "Come over here and give me a kiss and for goodness sake call me Rhonda when I'm away from City Hall and not on official duty. You know Greg of course."

"Yes, we belong to the same Rotary Club. Hi Greg."

"Hi Harris. I see you have your badge on that suit but why are your wearing a suit on a casual visit late Sunday?"

"Mandy confirmed you guys want to look me over to approve of me."

"Approve of you?" Greg asked, scratching his chin.

"Um as regular date and sex partner."

Rhonda said, "Are you sure Rotarians can have sex?"

"Yeah, I asked dad and he said he does and he's sure all his Rotarian buddies are still into it big time."

"You mean having sex with Mandy?" Greg rumbled.

"Er yes, with or without your approval."

"That's fine by me," Greg grinned and Rhonda said Harris didn't require her approval. "Now go back home and change out of that ridiculous suit and return with your swimsuit. Greg and I wish to see you two young folk frolicking in the pool."

Greg said, "Do we?"

After Mandy's parents went off to watch TV after dinner Mandy said to Harris, "Any interest in reading my first column that runs Wednesday. I went in to the newspaper this afternoon as requested and was interviewed and had my photo taken. That runs tomorrow in the position where my column will appear Wednesday."

Harris smiled and said he'd like to read it. He took the copy and Mandy wandered off.

The column began:

Are you aware why you can't levitate or paint with the awesome brilliance of say Renoir with his Le Dejeuner des Canotiers (1881)?

Oh you levitate every night and you did a wonderful job of repainting the back fence? Very good. Did someone mention he or she can't levitate or paint as well as Renoir because of the lack of experience?

What a brilliant answer. I can share that frustration.

I returned home to Melrose from college with a master's in Fine Arts, 19th Century Painting. No one was interested in me at local galleries. The economic downturn meant the door was closed on new hirings and I was told I had no experience. I took that to mean even if they were hiring I would have been by-passed before of a lack of experience.

Oh dear. Nothing was said about the high standard of education I must obviously possess or was my potential assessed. So now I can expertly sympathised with those of you who've applied for a job or a promotion only to be rejected. Reasons for rejection will vary but insufficent experience will figure predominately in rejection thinking I guess. The lesson is there's not much we can do about it.

A professor once told me the key is to know the right person. For what? Well he was speaking about job recruitment so I shouldn't confuse the intended message with thought of marriage or a spring holidy at a ski resort, believing if I talk to the right person about going there I'll be taken to the ski resort. My mommy who incidentially is Mayor of Melrose warned me from a young age about people, particularly males, who proposition me, like going to a ski resort in the spring.

Actually no male has ever excited me with such a noble proposation as taking me skiing expensively. Now where were we? Oh yes, wanting a job and matching that to finding the right person. Well I did that, accidentally. And we were actually talking contract conditions before I realized I was to be a columnist on this newspaper, with you reading this as my inaugural contribution.

So everyone remember this from my experience: if you want something badly and appear frustrated in every direction, seek to know the right person to assist you. Or alternatively keep actively groping around in the hope you'll stumble over her or him as I did.

The Melrose Eagle is taking a big risk with me. I'm not a wise, experienced man aged forty-eight plus. I'm a 24-year-old female and have never written an article for a newspaper. At this point I should write A BIG RISK. 

To me it's no big deal. I have a brain. I have knowledge. I am really aware of what goes on around me. I've lived in Melrose most of my life so am parochial, actually by design. I have a big mouth so am comfident I can big mouth on to paper and interest you. I'm intelligent enough to know you don't have to agree with everything I write. In fact you may agree with nothing I write. But providing I make you think and emote then I'll be doing my job. And if you say to your friends that young bitch whose started a column under her name in the Melrose Eagle is......(and state your opinion) I'll appreciate that because that means we have a dialogue going and interaction underway. And if you saw the word 'bitch' appear in the previous sentence, perhaps for the first time in such context in this newspaper, you'll have confirmation I have free rein to say anything within reason.

Well that completes waffle about why I'm being paid to write for you. So here we go...

Our city is not the only city named Melrose in this country. Nothing is going to change that. We know our original city fathers weren't village idiots in taking that name. Nathan Donald and some of his friends actually came from Melrose in Scotland so a name implant appeared logical to them. They didn't have a cell phone to call round to check if the name was unique in this country or have access to consult a national name register or to check an interactive map and lists of names on the Internet. No, all round them was isolation. And another thing, when they pitched tents and said wearily 'Let's settle here', they probably didn't think their settlement would grow and would still be around three hundred years later.

Some of you have been to the small town of Melrose, near Edinburgh. I haven't but will some day. Perhaps we should take a greater interest in our linkage with that settlement and firmly establish where Nathan Donald and any others in his party came from in and around Melrose. Our city could perhaps formalize contact.

Here's another thought: Why don't we have a monument commemorating the founding of our city by the leader of those first settlers, Nathan Donald? What do we know about him and where was Nathan Donald buried? I remember being taught about him at grade school but can't recollect seeing any photographs or hard evidence that the man existed.

Isn't it time we corrected this oversight? Future generations may be thankful we cared enough to put this right.

Now for something controversial: Do any of you actually drink our city water? I ask because I find it foul. I've watered my thirst in quite a few places and never tasted swamp water like Melrose's offering. I guess local complaints have been buried under passing time. I'd like to receive emails from you. Am I right or wrong about the liquid crap that goes into our drinking glasses from our taps?

Harris sighed and went looking for Mandy, finding her in the kitchen reading Saturday's edition of his newspaper.

"Oh hi handsome. Like what you read?"

"Well it certainly sounds like you, very readable in fact. Only I'm unhappy about the use of the word bitch and your mother is going to have a fit with you describing city water like that. It creates a bad image of the city."

"Well you're the editor. Slash and burn but don't ask me to rewrite a single word."

"Mandy please."

"You heard. May we talk about something else?"

"Yes, go ahead."

"I'd like to have sex. There's a day bed in the spa room beside the changing rooms in the pool house. Mom and dad never use the Jacuzzi after dark. They lack romance."

"You mean now?"

"Can you think of a better time?"

"I er no."

"Okay, let's go. I have coffee and supper packed. Mom will be expecting us to do this."

"Oh god, how embarrassing."

"Shhhh Harris. This is highly confidential: they also have sex."

Harris looked pained and managed a wan smile.



CHAPTER 2

Harris called Mandy on Thursday after the morning mail had been processed.

"Bad news. We've received thirty-three complains about you calling yourself a bitch in yesterday's column."

"That's good isn't it?"

"No. In publishing some of those letters and saying we received a total of thirty-three letters of complaint brings this newspaper into disrepute."

"I see. How many letters have you received about city water?"

"Why do you ask?"

Mandy laughed and said she was interested.

"More than 400 and seventy-two about our city connecting with Melrose in Scotland."

"Well there you are darling. Look at those letter volumes objectively and then form your decision about whether those bitching complainants represent only storm in a tea-cup. Oh by the way my computer mailbox was swamped. My Internet service provider advised thirty minutes ago I've received 1733 emails about city water. You should be rejoicing darling. It shows your readers will interact with your newspaper if you print challenging items. Your news editor Pamela called me earlier congratulating me for my Friday's column."

"Oh god, what's the subject?"

"Dog droppings and slack owners who need a rocket up their backsides."

"Jesus. I want you to file your columns to my computer Mandy."

"Very well but don't delay sending them through. Your newspaper is very strict about deadlines."

Almost wheezing Harris asked what was the topic of Monday's column.

"Naming babies. I think I'm pregnant."

"What!"

"Just kidding darling but naming babies is the topic. Names that city authorities refused to accept include Penis, Cunt and Daddy's Mistake."

"Oh Christ."

"I was about to add that my sense of proprietary means I won't mention the really disgusting rejected names but will mention some of the funny rejects such as Diaper Sue, Who's My Father and Sperm Rider."

The noise she heard was Harris choking. She cut the call to give him relief. She'd not told him of the screeching that ruined cheery breakfast atmosphere the previous morning when her mom read the column and reached the bit about city water.

Mandy had flared under attack that her mom was making sounded like news of the Titanic going down. People knew if their drinking water tasted foul.

"We have a program underway at huge expense to progressively rebuild filtration plants and replace some of the ageing miles and miles of reticulation pipes."

"Then call the editor, you know him, and demand he run a story on progress on water supply improvements. What is the rating of your water quality?"

"Don't you dare ask me that. Don't you dare write about that," wailed her mom.

The heat came off Mandy when Greg yawned and said, "Darling, cool down. It's only fucking water, not the Titanic sinking." 

Rhonda ripped into him as if she were dealing with some misfit alleging corruption at City Hall. 

"Dad you could drop me off at the hairdressers in a couple of minutes. I don't wish to be late for my appointment."

"You two are going nowhere until I've finished with you."

"Mom calm down and act your age. You'll pop an ovary."

"Bitch!"

"I bet no other mayor's daughter has ever been called that by her loving mother."

Rhonda looked appalled. "Oh darling. I can't believe I said that. Oh darling, kiss-kiss."

"Bye mom and thanks. Remember when the shit hits the fan at the council meeting use your husband's infamous words, "What's the gripe, it's only fucking water. Come on dad, let's rush."

At the salon someone said, "Ohmigod, it's Mandy Jack" as if some celebrity had entered the premises. Surprised, Mandy looked down at her T-shirt but her name wasn't on it. It was one of her father's casts off and the wording across her breasts was Dog Bay Bar which made people sound as if they were barking when reading the wording aloud.

Everyone wanted to talk to her and the salon owner had to call everyone to order and return to their chairs. She took over Mandy.

"You looked surprise people recognized you and wanted to talk to you. You've gained overnight celebrity status. Taking your mother on like that publicly is seen as being heroic. For four years she's stamped out all public comment about the foul taste of our water. People were being bullied into accepting it was the water they deserved and then along comes daughter Mandy and her vicious pen."

"I use a laptop actually."

"Well you know what I mean. Now how do you want it; completely shaved off?"

"Are we talking pussy?'

The hairdresser cackled in laughter and then everyone wanted in on the joke.

Mandy took a call from Harris who said his mom had just called him, bellowing into his ear. "I want to commission you to do a two-page feature about city water for our Saturday weekend feature section. I know you are not trained as a newspaper reporter but feel people will read avidly what you say. I'll get an experienced and helpful photographer assigned to you."

"Okay."

"What no objections."

"None. My mom will see it as redemption if I find the council really is grappling with a huge problem."

Harris said the newspaper had published progress articles.

"But you want me writing the big picture, brining everything together using my words and my conclusions?"

"That's exactly it."

"It will cost you seventeen hundred dollars."

"Why that amount?"

"Because I need money and I thought writing two pages and the research sounded to me like seventeen hundred bucks so gave you that figure."

"Half that amount would sound about right."

Mandy said sweetly, "Then get someone else who writes better and is on salary to get you and your newspaper back onside with my mother."

"Er seventeen hundred bucks sounds spot on darling."

Mandy chuckled and said Harris was really so clever.

* * *

That afternoon Harris was trembling as he began reading Mandy's latest submission titled, 'To Shave or Not to Shave'.

He finished reading in a sweat but all was well. Only an oblique reference to shaving between the legs had been made and discussed generally as 'harvesting hair off male and female genitalia'. He had to admit it was brilliantly covered.

After dinner that evening he watched with his parents as usual the program, Tonight's Personality.

B B Jones as the presenter styled herself filled the screen. "Tonight we reveal some of the thoughts of a dynamic woman in our midst who produces the new thrice weekly column in the Melrose Eagle, Mandy Jack."

"Isn't that the Mayor's daughter who you've been dating?" asked his mom who unfortunately for Harris was as sharp as a tack.

B B Jones answered for Harris. "Mandy is Mayor Jack's only child and shares her mom's good looks and acid tongue."

Harris suggested switching to another station, but fending off post-dinner sleepiness his father sat up and said he wanted to see this. "This is the woman who called herself a bitch."

"Shhh," Lisa said. "Let's hear what the young woman says."

B B: Are you abrasive by nature?"

Mandy: A little, aren't you?

B B: Well this interview is about you. Why are you a columnist instead of holding down a real job?

Mandy: That's easily answered. The invitation to write a column was the only job offer I received in fifteen months of scouting for a job.

B B: Who hired you?

Mandy: The editor Harris Walsh.

B B: Are you now having an affair with Mr Walsh?

Mandy: Mr Walsh and I date, yes.

B B: In your position doesn't dating and having an affair mean the same thing?

Mandy: I tend to think having an affair is something one has with a married person and that I don't do. Suffice to say Mr Harris and I date.

B B: So how did this coziness between the columnist and her editor begin?

Mandy: I sometimes played with Harris at his home when I was a little girl.

B B: And?

Mandy: When I returned to the city from college we bumped into one another. I appeared to dazzle him with my word power and complicated concepts and he asked if I wanted to write a column for the Melrose Eagle. I accepted. In case you were wondering we had not dated at that point.

B B: Haven't some of your published comments upset people?

Mandy: Even experts in literature have difficulty predicting what writing will upset people and then why are not other people upset. It almost defies analysis because it is highly driven by emotion, personal prejudice, misunderstanding, etc.

B B: Is that answer an example of your complicated concepts?

Mandy: Oh come on, that was me speaking simply.

B B: Is it your intention as a columnist to upset people?

Mandy: No. My intention is to confront readers with thoughts and concepts to make them think and react but not to manipulate them to react in any particular way. If they react it simply means I've used journalism as a vehicle to get through to them. If I produce no reaction then I ought to be fired for failing to stimulate my readers.

B B: Is it true that letters to the editor of the Melrose Eagle have increased tenfold since your columns began appearing?

Mandy: I've been told my columns have generated letters, phone calls and emails but that percentage figure increase is news to me. I personally received almost four and a half thousand emails about the quality of city water. I invited emails but never again. The response put my mailbox out of action but my Internet provider fixed the problem by temporarily hugely increasing my mail box capacity.

B B: Ah yes, that stinging attack on city water. My understanding is that greatly upset your mother who is Mayor of our city.

Mandy: Yes.

B B: Yes what?

Mandy: Yes but my comments were written to stimulate reader reaction to drinking water quality. I realized it would upset my mother but I was not playing politics. At breakfast next morning when mom read my comments she hit the roof but my dad cooled things down saying it was only [bleep] water, not something on the scale of the sinking of the Titanic.

B B: What an odd thing for your father to say.

Mandy: I don't think so. As a nuclear family we communicate effectively and in ways we achieve clear understanding. As I indicated, that ridiculous comparison was sufficient to cool mom down. She'd been given perspective.

B B: This latest column on bodily shaving, from the head down. Why did you write that?

Mandy: Because to my knowledge and the research I did, no other newspaper had published such an article. They leave that to women's magazines.




The Irreverent Mandy Jack



B B: You mentioned hair harvesting of genitalia?

Mandy: Yes.

B B: I mean is that suitable to be printed in a family newspaper?

Mandy: Yes. There was an editorial debate about publishing that column at which I was not invited to attend. Two spare columns were on hand if substitutes were required. As it turned out sense and maturity won the day and my column was published without anything being changed or deleted. There are brave and thoughtful people in editorial on the Eagle.

B B: Mandy, this has been a most interesting chat but we are almost out of time. What are your plans for editor Harris Walsh?

Mandy: To assist developing him into a strong, effective editor in any way I can. He's only twenty-eight and fairly new into the job. But I'll say he's given me practically a free hand to write on anything I wish and to say anything I wish, er, within reason. Older editors wouldn't have the guts to take such a risk.

B B: What I really meant was marriage.

Mandy: At present I have no desire to marry but I'll marry him if he feels the need to propose marriage.

B B: Thank you Mandy Jack, the sensational columnist writing each Monday, Wednesday and Friday in the Melrose Eagle.

Mandy: You left me feeling comfortable all the way through. Thank you B B.

Lisa stood ready to go out and make coffee. "Well what a surprise. Your Mandy presented herself as a thoughtful, mature and thoroughly pleasant young woman. My earlier impression was she was sailing close to being sluttish.

"Oh mother. You know I wouldn't let the family down."

"Bring her to dinner Saturday night son. We should be recognizing her as your partner and the fact she wants you to marry her."

"If you'd listened carefully that's not what she actually said but thanks dad. Is that okay with your mom she comes Saturday?"

"Yes of course. Invite her to stay the night. I'll make up the guest room for your both."

Desmond felt compelled to pontificate. "Um that's underpinning acceptance of sex outside of marriage Lisa."

"Shut up and move into the 21st Century darling."

"I'm a man of the cloth."

"And I'm a mother who wants to see her son happy in a relationship that we recognize and accept, even if it's outside of marriage."

Rev. Walsh sighed and said. "Yes dear. If I can't handle the unrest in my flock about this I'll turn Mandy on them."

On Saturday night Mandy was rising and falling thoughtfully, impaled on Harris' dick and riding Cowgirl.

His face bloated by the delicious feeling of having all highly sensitive areas within his body afire and almost ready to fire a salvo Harris asked, "What are you thinking?"

"That there has to be more to our relationship than sex if we are to keep going."

In panic Harris reached up and squeezed Mandy's flying tits, drawing a big "Ouch" from her.

"Squeeze, don't try to rip them from my body."

"Sorry. A large number of my journalists can't believe the Melrose Watergate feature we published today could have been written by you, an untrained person off the street."

Mandy creamed him, hugely, and fell off but finished him off with a tightly clenched fist.

"Wow," he puffed, as the dazzling red, green and yellow lights in front of his eyes began to fade.

"We have to build a circle of friends that are not from the newspaper and are not Rotarians," Mandy mused.

"Okay but how?"

"We lease a cabin in the woods and befriend people up there with time on their hands."

"Grandma will buy me one."

"No, we do this independently Harris. We join the mixed gym and attend together."

"Not a bad idea."

Encouraged, Mandy said, "We go to ballroom dancing classes and when up-skilled we'll entered competitions."

"Jesus."

"Okay so we begin attending church."

Harris wondered how that came up.

"I'll enroll at cooking school."

He agreed with that.

"We join a ski club."

Harris said, "Now look here. Social life has to have limits otherwise we won't have time to ourselves."

"Oh I was coming to that. Your features editor has commissioned me to write a two-pager for the Saturday features section and pay me at my current rate."

"What seventeen fucking hundred dollars?"

"Yes darling, unless you wish to increase that."

Harris sighed.

"I've also been speaking to your grandmother. She's taken a real liking to me. I suggested the newspaper company ought to be supplying its editor with a furnished apartment and she's talking to your grandfather about that."

"Mandy not way will I..."

"Darling if the apartment is near the office you can come home for lunch. Perhaps you could eat while having sex?"

"Er, you have some brilliant ideas Mandy. I'm glad I found you."

"Oh found me did you? God you men claim anything that you think is good."

Mandy took a call while soaking in the bath. Harris' parents were out on missionary work. She yelled, "That was your grandmother Harris. She wants us over for lunch today. Any objection?"

Harris groaned, "That means they've accepted your proposal to dish out money on us."

"Harris please don't think negatively like that. They are investing in us and investing in quality real estate."

He rushed into the bathroom in a polo and shorts. "You are not to write a column about the productive use of grandparents."

Mandy reached up and pulled him into the bath on top of her.

"No but shaft me Harris. I'm thinking of writing a column about how to give your lover innovative sex around the house."

"Ohmigod," Harris groaned but unable to stop himself rising to the occasion.



THE END