Act of God - Zooey.

(This story continues from Act of God - Sarah H.)

"Excuse me," said Zooey. "You've made a mistake. I can't go out like this."

"But you have to, Zooey. You're the star of the show. It's in your contract."

"But I look ridiculous!" Zooey gazed at herself in the full-length mirror, not liking what she saw. She stood backstage, concealed behind a velvet curtain from the eager crowd that waited around the catwalk. "Is this really the fashion statement of the season? I can't imagine anyone wearing this in public."

"Trust me, Zooey. You look gorgeous. I'm definitely not making you walk across a crowded room in an embarrassing outfit just for my own personal gratification."

"I guess I have to trust you, Joe. You're directing the whole show, after all. And I did sign that contract promising to do anything you say."

"So you did."

Zooey Deschanel tugged at her collar nervously. She was wearing a black fishnet body stocking, a black thong, red heart-shaped nipple tassels, red high heels and a Carmen Miranda fruit hat. She didn't feel like the future of fashion, but she wasn't the one making the decisions. She gulped. It was almost time to get out there in front of the cameras.

"Alright, Joe," she said, summoning all her courage. "I'm ready to go."

Joe gave her bottom a friendly pinch and shoved her out into the spotlight. "Youll be great!" he hollered after her. "Have fun!"

Zooey looked out at the catwalk and the sea of grinning faces that lay beyond it. Cameras were flashing, and spotlights played on her. She looked down at her body, now revealed in its glory to the crowd.

No, it wasn't a bad dream. She really was standing here wearing... what she was wearing. She bit her lip. She couldn't back down now. The show had to go on.

She took her first cautious step forward.

Walking down the catwalk seemed to take hours, with thousands of pairs of leering eyes fixed on her almost-bare body. Zooey felt her cheeks burn. She couldn't believe she'd signed up for this. In fact, she couldn't remember how it had even happened. But it had. And now she was stuck. With every step, she could feel herself descending further and further into shame. There was no turning back. She just had to walk forward, with her tits bouncing and exposed buttocks flexing, feeling incredibly silly and conspicuous, just hoping to get the whole thing over with before she melted with embarrassment.

At last. The end of the catwalk.

She took a deep breath. She struck a pose, forcing a smile for the cameras. And then she heard Joe's voice come through the earpiece in her Carmen Miranda fruit hat.

"Hold that pose. Don't move. It's all part of the show."

Well, she hadn't been planning to move. But what was all part of the...

Her left nipple tassel dropped off.

Then, so did the right one.

Her tits were out. Her actual tits were actually out in front of all these actual people. This wasn't a dream. It was really happening. They could see her tits. They were taking pictures of her tits. They were going to publish pictures of her tits on the internet.

And there was nothing she could do about it. She had to stay put and let everyone look at her tits. Her face blazed, but she couldn't move. It was in the contract.

Several long seconds passed. And then she heard Joe's voice again.

"Nice tits, Zoe. Now, take off your thong."

She didn't want to. She really, really, really didn't want to. If she took off her thong, which she wore over the body stocking, she'd be naked. Naked except for a body stocking, high heels and a Carmen Miranda fruit hat. On stage. In front of the whole world. She could hear people laughing. They were laughing at her because she looked ridiculous. If she was naked, she'd look even more ridiculous. And even more naked. Naked naked naked naked naked. She really, really, really, really didn't want to be naked.

But it was in the contract.

Joe watched from behind the stage, smirking to himself, as a furiously blushing Zooey Deschanel bent over to peel her black thong off her legs. Her lovely white bottom was pointed right at him, and it was the prettiest sight he'd ever seen. He picked up his intercom again.

"Put the thong in your mouth," he said, "and do a little dance."

He grinned as he watched her wiggle, and gestured to his next model. Anna Kendrick stood there, wearing a Playboy bunny costume with a few strategic holes cut out. Behind her, Kat Dennings squirmed in her wet T-shirt. The fashion show was only just beginning.