The Photo.

Tarka:
 
In a flash all her hopes, dreams, and plans ended. That one picture ending 
her future. For all her fame, all her glory, she was nothing when it came to 
the whims of the public and the tabloids.
 
"Look mini..." The shark on the other side of the desk looked dry with its 
head and fins proped on the desk before it. They had been talking a rather 
long time. "There just isn't any work out there right now. You have been out 
of the loop to long."
 
"Fred, I have been jobless for two months!" Mini's tail twitched back and 
forth, her mustilid ancestory still giving her boundless energy. Even when 
trying to talk sense into her agent.
 
The shark held out his fins. "Mini Mini, we have known each other for a long 
time. The truth is that there isn't a studio out there willing to hire you 
right now." He held his fin out to stop her from speaking. "I know, I know, 
it was only a party and you didn't mean anything by it. Its just that someone 
got a picture of you with that mask on. You know peoples feelings about it. 
I'm sorry Mini. There just isn't any work out there for you right now. Maybe 
in a year when people have forgoten."
 
Mini sighed and collapsed into her chair. He was right and she was on the 
verge of tears. FollyWoods rising star, turned leper in one momment. That 
damndable picture on ever tabloid in the world the next day. "Thank you Fred. 
For being honest." She got up and left the office without looking back. 
 
Why, why did she ever think it would be fun to wear a human mask to the party?
 
Terry:
 
Now the humans thought she was cute and pathetic, and the other minks had all 
branded her a race-traitor. She'd thought the whole feud was absurd and 
laughable, and in her naivety had assumed that everyone who seemed on the 
verge of killing each other over it was doing it tongue in cheek. She knew it 
was 'inappropriate', but damn it, it was a private party... although 
apparently, not private enough.
 
The picture had, briefly, made her more famous than god, but it'd put the lye 
to 'any publicity is good publicity', that was for sure. She'd only avoided 
arrest because of her friends... and now they were all avoiding her. In fact, 
the only person who'd contacted her at all since the incident was that creep 
who kept leaving letters on her front porch. Her last, best fan...
 
After finally getting home, Mini sighed, and flopped on her pile of pillows, 
brooding... then slinked over to the trashbin and rooted around for one of 
the crumpled up letters. Should she open it? Was she really that desperate 
for attention?
 
Athalon:
 
Had Mini any shame, she wouldn't have found herself in such straits - nor met 
some of the contacts she'd had.  There it was, the note from Bert.  She 
shuddered just to think of him, that pervert.  How any cigar-smoking scaly in 
a shell could leer at her while rubbing himself lewdly and think she'd be 
impressed, the minkgirl couldn't imagine.
 
But it had been her shamelessness which had attracted the turtle's attention. 
 Or perhaps just the drunken high spirits of youth.  Haw was Mini to guess 
that the famous porn director would happen to be looking her way when she'd 
shucked down her halter, shimmied her breasts in the face of the hotel bar's 
doorfox?  Burt the Turtle had sent Mini a drink that night, his card, a 
condom.  That letch!  Mini had once had standards, saw her future as a rising 
star.  She hadn't been about to hitch herself to a balding 40-something smut 
director.
 
That was then.
 
Vassily:
 
Even the handwriting on the letters seemed filthy.  Grime rubbed into the 
paper and other, less recognizable stains. Burt had money though, lots of 
money.
 
The thought of having to touch his shell, she shuddered.  He'd demand an 
'audition'. Mini smiled, "Just me and him ... and some persuasion."
 
Her paw slid into her bedside table and lovingly stroked the nickle plate of 
the .25 automatic she kept in there.  Mini slid it into her handbag as she 
headed for the door.
 
Tarka:
 
Burt gripped his cigar in his beak and looked through shots from the burrent 
flik. Mick lounged accross from him. "Adding the Roo in thew as a nice touch. 
The way the curve of everything worked out it will go well with Allen's music 
don't you think Burt?" Burt gripped his Cigar harder. Mick was being to 
creative for his own good again. People watching thses movies wouldn't notice 
all his cinamatic tricks, but it did give him ammo to throw at the censers. 
Tight assed board didn't have any sense of humor.
 
Its good Mike... good stuff here mike. We can probable have it in the shops 
by next week. Cut about 15 minutes of it though. We want to keep it under 45 
minutes. Most can't polish it longer then that.
 
Mick smiled and waved. "will do Burt!" then bounced out the room happy.
 
Burt chewed his Cigar some more, sometiems it was good to through the fellows 
15 extra minutes so that they could be creative. Kept the pesents happy.
 
"Sir." A young tod looked in. "There is a Miss Mini here to see you. You 
know, the freak that was all over the news a couple of months back?"
 
Terry:
 
"Exxxxcellent," Burt said, "I knew she'd be desperate enough after that to 
finally see the light. But... I want to make sure she's really humiliated 
before she gets to me, so have Marcus give her a 'pre-interview' to get her 
warmed up."
 
The tod laughed, "You trying to scare her away, sir?"
 
"Nah," Burt said, "I just know minks. She thinks I want her here just to get 
my paws on that sweet tail of hers, so she'll probably be relieved that a 
good looking boy like Marcus is up. Plus, you know. She has that thing for 
humans. Hehheh." He took a long puff of smoke. "Make sure the cameras are 
rolling. Probably won't be anything spectacular, but there's always a market 
for 'amateur' shoots, 'specially the exotic mixes."
 
The door closed as Burt's underling went off to arrange Mini's interview, and 
he cackled to himself. Everything was going exactly as he'd planned. If only 
he had the lungs for a proper evil laugh!
 
Athalon:
 
"So," Marcus began, flexing absently in his wife-beater.  It always made him 
look good in high school, the way he liked.  Popular with the ladies, too.  
"The Boss says I'm supposed ta inter-vyoo ya."  He leered with arrogant lust 
at the uncomfortable Mini.  This mink would be a fine piece of tail.
 
"Well, ask away!" she replied, feigning the breezy confidence she felt not at 
all.  Something about the Man's naked flesh, bulging and shining so unnaturall-
y, hade her squick.  And his flat ass as he'd turned, tryin to impress her.  
No tail!  It was just so wrong!
 
Marcus fondled one buff and meaty pec, smoothed his bouffant 'do.  "Not that 
kinda inter-yvoo, babe.  Although you could think of it as secretarial work." 
 He chuckled sardonically.  "Yeah.  A sexetary.  And you gotta show me yer 
skills in dick-tation."
 
Mini arose timidly from the horrid sofa, moved with sensuous mustelid grace.  
She caught Marcus' eye, let her tongue do things to her muzzle that made the 
front of his jeans respond in anticipation.  Her paw followed.  The evil 
twist of her claws made the horny human scream.
 
"I said I'm here to see Burt, *sshole.  Now.  None of your crap, or you lose 
these toys."  She gave an added squeeze, sending Marcus eeeking on toes.  
"Now are we of to see The Boss?  Or do you star in your next film as a 
eunuch?"
 
Vassily:
 
On a park bench under the sweltering LA sun, an orangutan in a ill fitting 
suit alternately fed pigeons and checked his watch. On the ground in front of 
him a sifaka manically paced back and forth, momentarily scattering the 
pigeons who parted before him like the back-lot sea in front of a tour tram.  
 
"Is it time, Karl?" The tiny prosimian's tail lashed back and forth. "I want 
to get this over with."
 
"Soon enough, Lenny.  In fact, we should head over there about now." Lenny 
bounded and circled the wrinkles in Karl's suit, using them as pawholds until 
he came to a stop on top of the rumpled fedora.  The ape adjusted his 
sunglasses, ran a thick blackish thumbnail along the side of a yellow fang 
and stood up.  He lumbered out into traffic, forcing it into further chaos as 
he headed towards the broken down warehouse across the street.
 
He pushed a large meaty paw against an office door with paint chips crackling 
under the impact and fluttering to the dusty stairs like bamboo leaves in an 
ancient forest.  The jamb held for a few seconds before the bolt splintered 
through.  Lenny bounced up and down like a kid on Christmas morning, 
setttling the hat down onto Karl's ears.
 
"We don't have an appointment, but I think you'll want to see us." Lenny 
grinned and waved a slender open switchblade for emphasis.
 
Tarka:
 
Fred pulled himself out of the single working watertube in the old delapitated-
 building, his jaws snapping a little. "Look you two, I already paid you for 
the photo you got. So what is the big idea coming in here like this? His gray 
eyes darted back and forth between the two.
 
Karl held out one very long arm and let Lenny scaper down it to the wall. 
"Well, you see its like this Fred. We got you the picture and such, but you 
didn't actually tell us how much it was worth. So the fee has gone up. We 
want tripple what you have already paid."
 
Fred watched Lenny with calculating eyes. "I don't see how a picture of a 
mink can be more then just a picture of a mink."
 
Lennly licked his blade playfully... moving around behind the shark.... 
"Oh... it makes a differance when that Mink is Mini... rising star of stage 
and film."
 
Karl cracked his nuckles. "So, are you going to pay up to do we enjoy a good 
sharkfin stew tonight?
 
Terry:
 
Suddenly, the phone rang. Karl and Lennly and Fred all froze, listening to it 
ring several times while Fred checked the caller ID. "Can you excuse me? I 
have to take this."
 
Lenny started to snarl a reply, but Karl stopped him. "Now now, let's let 
this guy take his phone call. We don't want to be impolite."
 
They didn't leave the room, though... still, Fred picked up the phone. "Uh 
huh. Right. She did? Well... can you send over a car to pick me up? I've got 
two assholes in here threatening me, and they didn't know I was on the phone 
with the cops until just now."
 
"Oh. Well, okay, I understand. Um..." He looked up at Lenny and Karl, 
grinning nervously.
 
Athalon:
 
Mini perched herself on Burt's huge desk, the turtle speachless in surprise.  
The minklet knew not to push him too far, knew she was at his mercy.  Knew 
she couldn't appear to know that, else all bargaining would be lost.  So she 
smiled sweetly, removed the cigar hanging perilously from one corner of 
Burt's beak, polished his dome lovingly with one paw.  "Burt," she purred.  
"Hasn't it been a long time?"
 
Marcus stood in the door way, both hands at his throbbing crotch.  "I did 
like you said, Boss.  Only the broad didn't get it.  See?"
 
The turtle glowered, lowered a brow.  "Shaddup!"  And turning his attention 
to Mini, extended a cold and hard claw.  "It's all about knowing how to treat 
the ladies.  Isn't it, pet?"  A knowing roll of his jaw said to Mimi that he 
knew just who she had to thank.  And in losts of ways.
 
She screwed herself to the task.  Put on her best poker face.  There would be 
no bullying with this one.  "Oooh, Daddeh, you know -just- what I like!"  A 
pouting moue of her lips promised things beyond a business deal.  And the 
mink read the pleasure of self-congratulation in the turtle's scaly face, 
felt the humiliation crawl over her fur like Marcus' hands.
 
"Babe... you... me... we'll go far!"
 
That's what you think, buster, the she-mink whispered under her breath.  And 
said aloud, "You're what I've always needed in a male.  Strong.  Capable.  
Ruthless."
 
Burt smirked.  "Don't I know it!  And I've got the perfect script for you 
right here... in my desk.  Little scene, for a starter.  You.  Marcus.  Four 
feet of #30 rope.  You don't mind a bit of the old extreme, do you hon?"
 
Tarka:
 
Mini's skin just crawled at the idea and it was all she could do to keep from 
throwing up at the thought. The curl of her tail gave away her thought of the 
'script' though. Burt, never one to miss a thing, saw that and grinned all 
the more. 
 
"Hon, your rep is already in the gutter, but I can get you good steady work 
and people will not avoid seeing these films cause of some silly tabliod run. 
If its just Marcus you don't like there are a couple of other boys of staff 
that might be more to your liking."
 
Marcus stepped forward but Burt sent him the 'look' and he backed out left.
 
Mini closed her eyes. The depts that she has fallen in such a short time. It 
was a disgrace. 
 
The phone rang and Burt picked it up. "Yo." He blinked a momment later. 
"Ha... its for you Mini. Your agent."
 
Mini took the phone in surprize... "Hello.... Fred?"
 
Terry:
 
Fred's voice was unmistakable, even gurgling as if he was having trouble 
breathing. She couldn't make out what he was saying, though... except that 
someone had attacked him, and he needed her help. She looked up at Burt, her 
plans for his demise suddenly forgotten -- if her *agent* was killed, she'd 
*never* get work. "I have to go. Something happened."
 
Burt frowned. How had those two messed things up so badly, that the shark was 
able to still phone afterwards? "Marcus, don't let her --"
 
Marcus reached to grab her, and without even thinking about what she was 
doing, Mimi whipped out her little gun and plugged him in the stomach, and he 
fell to the ground, screaming in pain. Burt lunged at her, and she whirled to 
shoot him, over and over and over, but the bullets just seemed to bounce off 
his shell, revealing a layer of metallic armor under the realistic tortoise-sh-
ell paint.
 
Burt frowned. "I didn't expect the gun, or the phone call," he said, as he 
tightened his grip on her wrist, forcing her to drop the now-empty gun. "I 
guess now we'll have to do this the hard way."
 
Athalon:
 
Mini writhed in the turtles implacable grip.  For a scaly so damned old, she 
thought, he has one hell of a wresting grip!
 
Burt picked up the gun, gave grace to Marcus who suddenly stopped screaming.  
"Pity, but he always refused gay scenes.  Versatility, know what I mean?  And 
as for you, my dear, I still think we can some to an arrangement.  There's 
other ways to score the bling in this business, you know.  Like blackmailing 
the agent of a successful and famous star with nude pictures of her from 
hidden cameras."
 
The mink's defiance turned to so much moral jello, she weak in her captor's 
arms.
 
"Oh, yes, babe.  Bathing.  Dressing.  Those solo scenes when the flashlight 
gave up its best.  Poor old Fred must have thought you were really pretty 
kinky, human masks in public and such play in private.  Yeah, ol' Freddy was 
willing to shell out bigtime for my boys to keep it all under wraps.  At 
least while you had a career..."
 
Tarka:
 
"Hey Mini! Over here!" A young martin waved a microphone over at Mini, she 
gladly walked over to it and smiled for the camras, back into the light after 
so many years of darkness. She smiled for the Martin... who looked almost 
joyful being near her. "So tell us Mini. How does it feel to be the first 
porn star to ever earn the grammy?"
 
Mini takes a breath. "It was a lot of hard work Mart. A lot of work with my 
Agent Fred helpped me get past some of the horrid things that happened in the 
past. The Tallent was always there. With the help of Mick, the director, we 
managed to make porn respectible. With plot and passion more then just the 
base emotions of lust and green."
 
The camra's went off all around her. Flashing and making images of her face 
for all the world to see. "Ah... but there was the untimely death of Burt. 
Some say that he didn't fall from there accidentally?"
 
Mini just grinned. "I wouldn't know anything about that. I was in a shoot 
with Mick at the momment. I only heard about it afterwards.
 
Terry:
 
After the show, she caught a cab and headed home, closing her eyes and 
thinking about that horrible day all over again. She'd been so sure that she 
was dead, that Fred was dead, that Burt had won, when...
 
Mick sighed, looking at her. "You're thinking about Burt again, I can tell. 
What really happened that night, anyway? I know Burt sent his thugs over to 
mess up Fred, and someone killed them real bad, but he won't talk about it 
either."
 
Mini smiled only somewhat bitterly at him. "If you're lucky, you'll never 
know."