Pebbles

Well into her freshman year at Prinstone University, Pebbles is beginning to discover how expensive it is to attend a marble-league school, even on a full side scholarship and living in the dorm.  Sure, her parents do send her little extra clams from time to time, but it's not nearly enough.  Three more years of living on leftover pizza and two-day-old pterodactyl wings just isn't gonna cut it.  What she needs is a part-time job.

Finding herself in the student union, Pebbles peruses the job offering board.  There's nothing very interesting...the usual offers for waitresses, dish-washing, and dino-walking.  Half hidden behind a military recruiting advertisement she comes across a tiny slate with the typical break-off phone numbers at the bottom.  Models wanted: part-time, flexible hours, no experience necessary, paid by the gig or by the hour.

Pebbles: (thinking) Hmmmm.  Ohh, what the heck.  Gotta be more interesting than standing behind a counter taking coffee orders or flipping bronto-burgers.

Having called the number and been given little more than an address and a time to be there, Pebbles roots through her dresser for something decent to wear.  What does one wear to a modeling interview anyway?  Halfway through deciding on a skirt or slacks...and wearing little but a pair of sheer, white, cotton panties in the meantime...her bubblier than usual roommate bursts in.

Penny: What's shakin', Pebblie-poo?  Just sittin' around nekked, tryin' on clothes?  Somebody's gotta hot date tonight!

Pebbles:I've got a job interview in, like... (glances at her bedside clock)  Shit...in, like, two hours.

Penny: At night?  Riiiiight.  Totally believable.  So, what's his name?

Pebbles:It's a modeling gig...and I have no idea what to wear.

Penny:Ooooo!  Like, what?  High fashion, fitness...or something more, shall we say, scantly clad?

Pebbles:Actually, I have no idea.

Pebbles holds up a couple of clothing options in front of her.  Her typical pink, tiger stripped blouse and a mini skirt get a head shake of disapproval from Penny.  Likewise, her roommate rolls her eyes at a white, over-one-shoulder, dress that her mother had given her.

Penny:Hmmm.  I'd go with something form-fitting and a halter top.  Not quite skinny jeans...and nothing flashy...and don't wear a whole lot of makeup either.  They're looking at you...you know, like you're a blank canvas.  And, uhhh...the bone in your hair.  (wrinkles her nose) What are we, still freshman at Bedrock High?

Pebbles:But...  But that's my thing!

A few hours later, having borrowed Penny's old jalopy, Pebbles make her way into the seedier side of downtown Trentonstone.  It's the part of town where the cops don't even go and you fully expects to find your car on blocks after your business is concluded.  Mace in hand and trying not to make eye contact with a random prostitute standing at the corner, Pebbles pushes the call box at the address she'd been given. 

Pebbles: (thinking) Yeah, this might've have been a mistake.

A few terrifying minutes later and Pebbles sits across from talent agent Sam Stone* as he peruses her resume.  Despite outward appearances, the interior is a relatively modern looking photography studio.  The nice-smelling secretary in the outer office even offered her a beverage while she waited. 

Pebbles: (thinking, looking around the room) This might not be so bad after all.

Sam:So, Miss...  Flintstone is it?  I see you're a student up at Prinstone.  And you're studying...?

Pebbles:Cave Art History.

Sam: (gestures around the studio) Well, I am a student of the arts, in a manner of speaking.   So, do you have any modeling experience?

Pebbles:I, uhhhh...  I modeled baby clothes for a department store when I was like, one or two.

Sam:I see.  Well, I must say, you do have a certain quality we're looking for.  Unfortunately, we are nearly completely staffed.  The only vacancy we have available is an anatomy model position.  Does that sound like something you'd be interested in?

Pebbles:Anatomy model?  I...  I don't...

Sam:You don't know what that is, do you?

Pebbles:No sir.

Sam:In a nut shell, women...and men...pose for high-resolution photos in various positions, usually emphasizing a specific part of the anatomy.  Cave painters, commercial artists, even movie studios...they all use them as reference material.  They in turn, more often than not, will want the actual model from the reference shots to work for them directly.

Visions of walking the red carpet at a movie premier in Hollyrock and doing the 'model walk' down a runway in Pareé-Rocheux flash through Pebbles mind.

Pebbles:I...  I could do that!

Sam:Good!  Alright, well, let's take a couple of test shots, shall we?

Pebbles:Ohh, ok.  Uhhhh...  Right now?

Sam:Sure, no time like the present.  Now, if you'll please sign this model release...purely standard, boilerplate stuff.

Pebbles: Uhhh, ok.  Where do I...

The agent pushes a couple of slates across his desk, handing her a hammer and chisel, pointing to an 'X' at the bottom of the document.  After chiseling her mark, Sam guides Pebbles further into the studio, directing her towards a translucent screen with dressing tables behind it, complete with light bulbs surrounding the mirrors.

Sam:You can disrobe behind that partition.

Pebbles: Dis...  Disrobe?

Sam:Well, we can't very well photograph human anatomy with our clothes on, now can we?  We are interviewing several other applicants for this position, I might add.

Several embarrassing moments later, having been handed off to a photographer, a blushing Pebbles finds herself on her hands and knees, naked, save for the bone in her hair.  She can only see the photographer's dark, silhouetted figure behind all of the glaring studio lights.  He directs her move this way and that, having the redhead arch her back and push her chest out.

Photographer:Alright, that's good!  Now, spread your legs a bit and gimme me a sultry look.  Very good!  Are you ready?

Pebbles: Shh...  Sure, I guess so.

Photograher:Send in the male model.

Pebbles:Wait, what...?

A huge Cro-Magnon, easily three times Pebbles size, appears from behind the glaring lights.  Pebbles, wide-eyed, her mouth dropping open, is instantly transfixed on the giant's...'anatomical anomaly'.  It's the diameter of her thigh and as long as her arm.

Pebbles: I...  I thought we...  Holy shit.

Photographer: You thought, what?  That I was gonna take pictures of -your- anatomy?  (laughs) No, no, dear.  You didn't read the fine print, did you?  Your job is to emphasize specific parts of -his- anatomy.

No sooner has the photographer finished his sentence when the giant Cro-Mag drops to one knee behind a mortified Pebbles.  Before she can even begin to protest, his anomalously huge unit lands squarely between her ass cheeks, it's enormous head coming to rest between her shoulder blades.

Photographer: Alrighty.  There's the shot I'm looking for.  Maybe just a tad less 'flabergasted' and a little more 'enticing', dearie.

Pressing a button atop his camera, a tiny beret-wearing bird pops out, mallet and chisel in hand.  Closing one eye while holding out it's thumb out, it frames up the dumbfounded-looking model and then begins to bang away at an equally tiny stone tablet.

Bird:Ehhh, it's a living.

* Sam Stone: Talent agent in Bedrock originally seen in Flintstones, season 3, episode 5, "The Twitch".

Original Art by MyBadBunny

Commissioned by Phillipthe2