Revons Plus Grand
Chapter 7:
Classical Gas
Really though, the results of the matches on Wednesday had little impact on the collective mood to Georgette Lemare and Sadako Shimohara catering to the gladiators of football on the men's and women's sides, the proud men and women of Paris Saint-Germain, the soul of a metropole beating like a drum, strumming like an acoustic guitar on a full tank of melodical biodiesel. This is your life, live it, live in the now.
That was all they did. They got up at 6, had breakfast, packed lunch and headed down to the street where Mr. Sami would shuttle them to work. At 7, they would report to the Camp des Loges to prepare the rooms and the facility for the players. At 9, the men, followed by the women, would have their scheduled morning sessions. Lunchtime would see the two of them prepare the meals for the teams.
After their lunch break, the two teams would continue practice before adjourning in the afternoon, at which the girls would clean up the mess left by both teams before clocking out at about 5 or 6 in the early evening. Then Mr. Sami would shuttle them back to their apartment in Boulogne Billancourt, a short walk from the Stadium.
Saturday came, and both teams were on the road again. The two girls had received their stubs and cashed it in on Friday evening. Both were each paid 600 euros a week, which was more than twice a regular cook in France earned per month, on average. Combined with the subsidized rent, it was a decent living for the two of them. Strangely, though, Georgette and Sadako were being summoned to the Camp des Loges in the morning to meet with Mr. Benoit Rousseau.
"According to the owner, he personally requested that both of you step in to help with matchday preparation, such as preparing the change rooms and moving uniforms to the laundry and all of that," Benoit explained. "Normally, you would be doing this for home games but since we are on the road, he decided to have you experience this so that you know the process."
"Wow, that is something I didn't know," said Georgette.
"Also, the team we are facing is from Dijon. And you know what Dijon is famous for..."
"Mustard," she and Sadako said with a smile, looking at each other with a giggle.
"So he decided this would also be an opportunity for you to take a quick visit to the heart of the city and make a special run to a certain store that has the best in the world. It's this one right here." A visual.
"Oh, I know this place, from our world," Jose told Sadako. "This is La Boutique Maille."
"La Boutique Maille?"
"When I was younger, my mother would take me to Dijon on a carriage and bring me to this place and we would buy mustard in these cute looking jars. The mustard we have in Normandy is fine, but this city is where the best in the world is. There is no other place on this Earth that does mustard as correctly as Dijon. It's mustard heaven!"
"I guess this is a great opportunity for us to go out on the town out there, while getting the boys set to do battle," Sadako said slyly, winking. "Work and play? A-OK!"
"That what you say."
"Allez, Ola, Ole!" The two of them laughed like mindless schoolgirls frolicking on a Sunday afternoon on the island of La Grande Jatte, the Ile de la Jatte, located north of Neiully-sur-Seine.
"So, let's pack this up and get ready to transport our materials to the Stade Gaston Gerard, both of you," said Benoit. "The store is a 35 minute walk away to the west."
"Yes, Mr. Rousseau!" they both said.
"Benoit will be fine from now on. You have my trust." They beamed as they continued to transport the materials on to the coach with the team's mistakable livery. They were also wearing special track suits, and in an interesting touch, their personal insignia was placed next to the crest. Naturally, the cat tracker jumped in and was stationed on Georgette's lap to pet. As authorized by the staff, she was wearing a skirt and white thighhighs.
The coach, after being loaded in full, headed down the A6 toward Dijon, exiting Paris and heading southeast, passing by the Fontainebleau Forest, a regional park in Morvan and a number of small towns along the way. Georgette was listening to modern music for the first time on her issued iPod Touch 6, enrobed in a PSG case. Sadako had an iPad Pro pressed on the window, sitting still.
"What are you doing?" asked Georgette to Sadako.
"Filming the countryside," she replied.
"Are you going to compile it somehow for a film?"
"Set it to the music in this thing and perhaps submit it to our folks."
"Oh my, really? Carry on, then." Sadako nodded as Jose sighed, continuing to melt in watching the pictures of rural life in central France.
"So this is Dijon," said Benoit to Sadako and Georgette as they got off the coach. They were outside the Stade Gaston Gerard, the home of Dijon Football Cote D'Or. Dijon FCO, currently 13th in the Ligue 1 standings, a recently promoted side under manager Olivier Dall'Oglio. They had been eliminated 2-1 midweek on the road by FC Girondins de Bordeaux, managed by Jocelyn Gourvennec and needed to rebound in a big way before their manager faced the sack.
"So what do we do, Mr. Benoit?" Sadako asked him.
He handed them umbrellas. "You have two hours to do whatever visiting you want, but at 3 p.m., you must report to the stadium right here so we can go over how to have the room set up. You will be given instructions from our performance manager, Mr. Martin Buchheit, who will be on his way. Also, mind the weather. Understood?"
"Yes, Mr. Benoit!" they said.
"See you in a bit. Enjoy the city!"
The two girls walked down the Boulevard des Strasbourg, passing by some rustic homes and some newer homes. Sadako continued to film the scenes of SUVs passing by, and she was only able to do it because of their power, which allows them natural protection from the rain. Nonetheless, for posterity, the two of them were holding their team-issued umbrellas courtesy of Benoit and their devices were not wet at all. As they walked through narrow alleyways and old, tall buildings and churches, including the Eglise Notre Dame de Dijon, Georgette was listening to some interesting ye-ye music, including a particular one by a woman named, interestingly, France Gall.
"Je suis une poupe de cire
Une poupe de son
Mon coeur est grav dans mes chansons
Poupe de cire poupe de son
Suis-je meilleure suis-je pire
Qu'une poupe de salon
Je vois la vie en rose bonbon
Poupe de cire poupe de son
Mes disques sont un miroir
Dans lequel chacun peut me voir
Je suis partout la fois
Brise en mille clats de voix
Autour de moi j'entends rire
Les poupes de chiffon
Celles qui dansent sur mes chansons
Poupe de cire poupe de son
Elles se laissent sduire
Pour un oui pour un non
L'amour n'est pas que dans les chansons
Poupe de cire poupe de son
Mes disques sont un miroir
Dans lequel chacun peut me voir
Je suis partout la fois
Brise en mille clats de voix
Seule parfois je soupire
Je me dis quoi bon
Chanter ainsi l'amour sans raison
Sans rien connatre des garons
Je n'suis qu'une poupe de cire
Qu'une poupe de son
Sous le soleil de mes cheveux blonds
Poupe de cire poupe de son
Mais un jour je vivrai mes chansons
Poupe de cire poupe de son
Sans craindre la chaleur des garons
Poupe de cire poupe de son..."
"I think I am inspired," said Sadako to Jose.
"What are you feeling like doing?"
"Those illustrations by Dadeu that we saw on Wednesday? I want to do some myself."
"You should try it out on your tablet later, I think that's what it's called. Anyway, here we are," said Jose as the two of them reached a store with a black exterior and gold writing. "Moutarde Maille. This is it."
"Hold my hand," Sadako said, gulping.
"Such a baby," she deadpanned. She noticed Sadako sucking her right index. "And stop sucking your finger, this is a public place!"
"Eheheheh..." And so they were inside.
"Bonjour and welcome to La Maison Maille," said the shopkeeper.
"Good afternoon," Sadako and Jose said with a bow.
"My name is Josh and I am the manager of the store here. Is this your first time here?"
"For my partner, yes," said Jose, "but I have been here before..."
Sadako looked at her suspiciously. "Are you going to tell him the truth now?" she shot back through telekinesis. From this point forward, both of them were only talking to each other in French, unless otherwise directed.
"He wouldn't believe me," she replied through telekinesis, "so..."
"So if you've been here before, we want you to know that we have a new variety of mustards available," said Josh. "Since Valentine's Day is around the corner, we have gift boxes for your loved ones, and we also sell vinegars and other special products. Did you have anything in mind?"
"What do you recommend, Mr. Josh?" asked Jose.
"Well, as we mentioned, we have some giftboxes that you can consider for a purchase but our best sellers are our mustards from the pump," he replied.
"Mustard from a pump?"
"Directly from the source, very fresh and high quality, in comparison to our regular mustards, all natural, made with the best ingredients possible, highly prized..."
"Wow...can I see?"
"Follow me, this way." The two girls followed Josh to the pumps. "So, here at La Maison Maille, we pump our mustards into these ceramic jars." He handed them sample jars.
"Cool, are these...?"
"These are handcrafted ceramic jars, and after they are filled, they are then sealed. As you know, with refrigeration, these will last a while with proper use. We have seven different varieties that can be obtained from the pump. Here's a sample." He produced a couple of tasting spoons and provided a couple of samples.
"Mmmmm," Jose said. "Delicious. Is this truffles?"
"Black truffle and chablis. One of our best sellers."
"My gosh...so good!" She wanted to sprout cat ears and a tail again but she had to restrain herself.
"I detect some honey in this," Sadako said.
"Indeed. That is rosemary honey, another popular flavor. Both are limited edition," said Josh with a smile on his face. "So, does this give both of you an idea of what you want to buy?"
"Well," Georgette said with a scheming look on her face, "actually..."
"Actually?" Josh's right hand had unknowingly given Jose's bust an expanding squeeze, complete with lewd effect. He had no idea...
...until minutes later. "Oh, mon dieu..." An overwhelming groan of defeat could be heard from Josh as comical smoke came out of his head to go with a massive bump while the two girls left the store. They bought two jars each of every mustard from the pump and a gourmet collection box that they carried back to the team bus. With this, they had enough mustard to last them the entire time they were expected to be with their employers.
"He was about to grope me out in the open," said Jose, nonplussed with a vein on her head as they returned to the Stade Gaston Gerard, the rain subsiding a little. "At least he made up for it by giving us half off. The pervert!"
"But you don't make a fuss when I do it, right?" Sadako reminded her sternly and with a hint of clever glee on her sadistic lips forming a sideways three.
A finger to Sadako's lips that were full of a million ideas for a touch of a women to melt the heart a woman. "Yes, but right now, we are working. This is work. Understand?"
"Yes, dear..."
As they loaded the contents in a special case and placed it in the coach, Benoit came in to meet them, and Martin was with him as well. "Ah, both of you! Welcome back," said Benoit.
"Mr. Benoit, we have returned!" they both said, saluting. Jose's eyebrows were still twitching from the traumatic experience.
"At ease. So this is the performance manager. I want you to meet him. He will take it from here. Martin?"
"Good afternoon, I am Mr. Martin Buchheit, performance manager for PSG," he said, shaking hands. "Before the contest, we prepare the change rooms for the players and coaches. I'll show you how it's done so that you will be accustomed to the preparations without further supervision. Follow me." After a nod, the two girls followed Martin to the visiting change rooms after receiving their credentials which would last the rest of the season.
Meanwhile, back in Petersburg, Hikari Karibuchi and Naoe Kanno were watching the cat tracker film Sadako and Georgette hang up jerseys, prepare shorts, socks, jackets, pants, cleats, practice balls, and so on and so forth, with some scenes in slow motion, set to an instrumental version of France Gall's Eurovision-winning song, so much that Martin himself was amazed at how fast they picked it up.
"Allegedly they call this inside access," Nao said to Hikari, munching some popcorn.
"Inside access?"
"All-access look at the workings of that shitty team. Tch! I don't know if I will even forgive them if they don't win the game against a bunch of low-skilled low life provincial mustard boys who were tossed out of a cup competition a few days ago."
"Low-skilled low lifes, you say? United we stand, divided we fall. As one, in the hole..." Nao nodded as the cat tracker walked through the change room, showing the different players that are scheduled to be on the traveling list. On the screen popped up the Mick McCarthy meme of "One In The Hole, You Say?" prompting Hikari to laugh like a full-blown idiot mixed with a hyena on hiatus from sanity and into full frontal hysteria. O #HikariKaribuchi.
Nao looked at her tub and held it upside down. "Shit, I ran out of popcorn." She pointed to the kitchen, her arms forming what the alternate dimension called a "dab." On the screen, a picture of Zlatan Ibrahimovic relaxing in his easy chair, looking smug as ever with his mustache and ponytail, showed up, with the caption, "Somebody pass the popcorn."
Hikari got up from her seat. "Right!" A couple more large tubs with extra chocolate toppings were in order. As she left the room, the song ended in its entirety.
Nao peeked fron under her dabbing arm. "Heheh." Her eyes glinted with a bling on the wing. Oh Naoe Kanno, you precious thing.
Following the match, the bus driver shuttling Sadako and Georgette back to their apartment in Boulogne had elected to drop them and their culinary supplies at the door. Mr. Sami had the night off due to overwork and would be fresh for his next shift the next day after drinking some guarana beverages imported directly from Brazil.
Sunday, the team was needed to do more training. Midweek, the club would be facing Lille OSC, who had an interim manager in Patrick Collot who replaced the dismissed Frederic Antonetti midseason. Les Dogues, as they were called, were dispatched of by PSG in the Coupe de La Ligue but were still in the hunt in the Coupe de France and could salvage their season by running the tables in the remaining stages.
"I wanted to try something different, a new style because I don't need the same outfit and appearance every time," said Jose, her fist pumped after putting on her signature underwear following a morning bath with Sadako, who was also getting dressed.
"Can you explain? I don't understand." They were lounging on the sofa in their underwear, the cat tracker watching the two of them discreetly. The Eiffel Tower was illuminating in the distance, a beacon of hope to the West.
"I want to change my style and look like someone else on our squad," Georgette said, letting down her hair with an angelic sigh.
"Huh? What are you...eh?" Sadako was concerned Jose was going to cut her hair, or something even more threatening that would put their rock-solid relationship in dire straits.
"Eheh..." Jose eyed a big blue bow with PSG's crest on it, tied her hair back with it, parted her bangs a certain direction, and gave her bust a bounce three times, causing her to orgasm profusely. "Haaaaah..."
"!" Sadako's nose was about to bleed but she held it in, miraculously. Georgette's chest had the exact size of a certain squad member recovering and returning to the team...to be reunited with someone she knew so well.
With a giggle, Georgette turned around to Sadako, doing a contrapposto. "Well," she said, in a slightly more adultlike voice but still adorable, "how do I look, Sa-da-chan?"
"Eh..." It dawned on her like the rising sun. Beat. Of. The. "WHY DO YOU LOOK AND SOUND LIKE FL-er, no, HIKARI'S BIG SISTER!?"
"Is that a bad thing?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No, it's just, it's just...I...I...!" Sadako went up from behind Georgette and gave her breasts a nice squeeze.
"HYAAAAAAAH!" Georgette cried in pleasure, causing Sadako's flower to empty itself out and stain her black lace panties.
"They are truly real. I love it. I don't need to really use a pillow anymore when your cleavage gives me all the comfort I need, and they're bigger than mine's and it doesn't affect you at all." A nipple tweak here and there, as Sadako's hands were under her bra, threatening a timely strap slip of suggestive seduction. "It's what I dreamed of when loving you like I do, Jose! It completes me! I am alive again!"
They shared a long kiss, a trail of saliva separating their lips. Georgette giggled as the two of them went back to the bedroom to continue getting dressed. "That was so that you can get the lewd stuff off your chest and focus on work. Your breakfast before the breakfast in a way, okay?"
"I guess so, but how did you do it? It's a really developed size, even for someone like you. Why did you choose to look and sound like Takami?"
"Because we are 18, we are working adults, and we need to be extension of the image of PSG being a sexy club for sexy players playing Le Sexy Football. Baby. Flight Lieu-er, Takami should be working here, she would be a nice motivational boost and a great helping hand to the boys."
"All those raging hormones and long dicks out for Le PSG, Paris Saint-Germain...or, what if I told you PSG really stood for Paris, Sadako and Georgette?"
"Eh?"
They looked in the mirror after getting dressed. Sadako lifted the chin of Georgette, whose breath was hitched. "Look at my eyes. They are red. Yours are blue. Rouge..." She whispered after coming in closer. "...et bleu." And a kiss.
"Seems legit, Sada."
"Now I know what Hikari loves to melt into the embrace and body of her big sister. It feels so delicious. Nice work, my dear, dear Jose. Rrrrr."
"I'm glad you liked it."
She stretched and looked outside the skyline, winter's cold still coming in for February. In the distance, a busker was playing La Mer on his accordion. "Ahhh, but my love, Jose, you may even say it was destiny for us to even be here working for this club. All the pieces fall together. And it doesn't get any bigger than this."
"Ohhhh yes it can. Remember, at this club..."
"We dream bigger," they both said, laughing. Taking their duffel bags full of toiletries and food and water, the two of them went down to the shuttle, where Mr. Sami was waiting.
"Hey, Mr. Sami," asked Jose, eating a massive breakfast roll as the shuttle made its way down the road, "when did you get here?"
"5 in the morning, Ms. Jose," he said with a thumbs-up.
"That early?"
"Yep. It may be Sunday but have a long shift today and I was so beat with having to do other work for other patrons that the boss told me to take Saturday off to sleep. Woke up refreshed like a rooster and ready to go."
"Speaking of which, Jose," asked Sadako, "isn't the emblem of Gal-er, France the rooster?"
A sweatdrop came down Georgette's head. "Um, Sada? Did you forget that...?"
"The Gallic rooster, which is actually a wordplay, or pun, on the Latin word gallus, meaning chicken, and Gallia, or Gaul, another name for France," Sami said. "Indeed, our mascot for the 1998 FIFA World Cup was a rooster named Toofix. Bet you didn't know that girls."
"The more you know," Sadako and Georgette said in unison, sweat drops all around.
"But you also know something? Later, actually, waaaay later in the night tonight, after midnight our time, to be exact, something will be going on in America."
"What's going on there?" asked Jose.
"Have you heard of this thing called the Super Bowl?"
"What's that?" asked Sadako.
"It is one of the biggest sporting spectacles in the early part of the month. There are commercials, a pregame and halftime show, and the game itself, which is a game of American football."
"American football?" Georgette wondered. "I think Shirley knows what this game is, Sada."
"It is said to be a variant of the football we watched, but it's a different code with rules, variations, stoppages of play and violent, dramatic collisions. And lots of beer is drunk at this event too," said Sada.
"Shirley said she was from West Virginia, so..."
"I think there is supposed to be a few universities that field teams that play this sport, which is also called gridiron due to the line demarcations resembling as such. Also, the goalposts are off a different shape. It is actually a variant derived from football and rugby union, according to this guide here to the match."
"Who left that here?"
"It was another tourist from San Diego, in the American state of California in the south, who was unhappy that his team, called the Chargers, in the professional division called the National Football League, departed for neighboring Los Angeles. So he left it there. I was supposed to pick him up. But apparently, I heard the news that he had hung himself at some place in the 19th arrondissement."
"He killed himself?" Sadako exclaimed. "That's horrible! Why?"
"According to the report from the Gendarme, he was reported to have also said, 'death to Trump and death to America.' He also killed a few other bystanders before he hung himself. I could not get myself to even continue my work so the boss allowed me to get some sleep since he didn't want this to be a distraction."
"Sorry to hear that, Mr. Sami," Georgette said. "But still, I wish I could be able to watch the game live, but it's so late in the night for that. Everyone's sleeping, except maybe the expatriates."
"Speaking of expatriates, the Patriots are playing the Falcons at a stadium called NRG Stadium in the American state of Texas. The Patriots are a team from Boston represented all of New England, the northeast corner of the country. The New England Patriots. As for the Falcons, they are based in the capital of the America state of Georgia, Atlanta. Thus, they are the Atlanta Falcons. Do you understand?"
"Yeah, I do, somewhat. But still..." Sadako looked on concerned as Georgette's head was bowed in defeat while petting the sympathetic cat tracker. "I wish I could get up to watch it."
"The DVR feature on today televisions allows you to rewatch any show or event you may have missed."
"Really?" Sadako exclaimed. "Good news for us, right Jose?" A few tears could be seen coming down her empty eyes. "Jose? Are you all right?"
Georgette lifted her head and turned to Sadako, forcing a smile. Just like how Takami would do it. Truly in character. "It can be helped, right Sada-chan?"
Sadako paused. "She even talks exactly like her," she thought to herself. But missing the big game across the Atlantic was going to be a sacrifice that the two of them would have to bear.
Or was it...? The strains of "Classical Gas" by Mason Williams played on the coach's radio as the shuttle continued to roll toward the Camp des Loges in the pouring rain.
END CHAPTER 7