Vanessa, Sarah, Susanne and Kate looked down at the half-naked body. Blood was pooling behind his perfectly-shaped head and his sapphire-blue eyes stared up at the ceiling.

“What was his name?” wept Sarah quietly.

The can had spilt and the flawless skin man’s wet torso still fizzed almost imperceptibly from the carbolic. His pectorals, once heaving and proud, lay still, and the proud tangerine bulges of his abdominals were lifeless.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Kate, wiping a spot of blood from her cheek. “We need to get him out here.”

“What was his name…” whispered Sarah, sitting on her desk, lightly rocking back and forward with her knees clutched to her chest.

“Vanessa, Susanne, grab his immaculate twenty-five inch arms,” hissed Kate.

Despite him having less than four percent body fat, they had difficulty lifting the man because of a thick coating of baby oil over his shoulders, and also his hugeness.

“Sarah, make yourself useful and clean the blood or something.”

The corner of the printer was crimson, and Sarah sniffled as she dabbed at it lamely with cotton buds.

Kate, Vanessa and Susanne, bent over with the weight, waddled the body over to the window, which was open from where the man had climbed in onto Susanne’s desk, before beginning his tasty desktop ritual. His window-cleaning scaffold was still suspended from the roof outside.

“It’s my fault,” whispered Sarah to herself, wiping the blood from the sharp edges of the printer. “I should have cleared away those p60s off Susanne’s desk, they’re such slippery forms.”

“Vanessa, get his vest,” said Kate.

Obeying, Vanessa grabbed the vest which had been peeled away and cast aside moments earlier. It still smelled of hard work and Sure For Men. Though it felt like a shame to do it, they dressed him again and hauled his body up and onto the window frame, halfway out into the mid-morning air.

“People fall from these things all the time,” said Kate. “I’ll push the scaffold away from the window, you drop him down.”

“Long way down,” said Susanne, ashen-faced.

“It’ll really mess up his beautiful cheekbones,” said Vanessa.

“And those lats,” sniffed Sarah, joining them.

“And no one will see his head wound, will they?” said Kate. The girls murmured in agreement. “Ready?”

“Can we,” said Vanessa, “can we just look at him for a bit more? Before we…”

“I mean until we finish the cans, it is still technically our Diet Coke break?” said Susanne.

And so the ladies wiped the sweat from their brows and enjoyed the smooth refreshing quench of a Diet Coke, caramel smooth and sugar-free. They looked at the dead body, his exquisite hair, swimmer’s build and the sort of arms that could hold you until you felt completely safe.

Then they heaved him out of the window and got back to their hectic yet rewarding careers as screams rose up from the street.


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