Flat Out Sale

By Sunday morning, Sophie had grown bored of pom-poms and trophies. The novelty of walking around in converted teammates had faded. She wanted something that would stick. Something people would pay for.

The remote’s transform menu had hundreds of options she hadn’t touched yet. She scrolled past the “appliances” and “novelty items” until she found a sub-menu she hadn’t noticed before:

Display Formats → 2D Physical Preserve subject in flattened high-resolution state for decorative purposes.

The icon was a silhouette of a woman in a provocative pose, reduced to a single sheet. Sophie’s grin sharpened.

She started with Madison. One click and a shimmer, and Madison’s body stretched and compressed like wet paint under glass. In seconds, she was a perfect, full-color naked pinup — flattened to the thickness of a poster, her mouth still frozen mid-gasp, eyes wide in outrage she’d never be able to voice. Every detail was there: skin tone, hair texture, even the faint sheen of sweat from practice.

Sophie peeled Madison’s poster-form off the bed and held it up to the light. The flat, glossy surface caught the sun — her old rival now just a wall decoration.

By mid-afternoon, she’d worked her way through a dozen girls from all three squads. Some posed mid-leap, others caught in stretches that now looked shamelessly sexual. Sophie learned she could adjust their final pose before locking it in — bending knees, arching backs, cupping their own breasts — until each flattened girl looked like she’d been caught in the world’s dirtiest photo shoot.

She stacked them carefully in her duffel.

Monday night, she started making calls. A few frat boys she knew from parties were more than eager to “decorate the house” with exclusive one-of-a-kind cheerleader art. The first sale was Kendall from the rival squad — now a life-sized nude pinned to the wall above a beer pong table, her flattened hips forever twisted toward the viewer.

The orders rolled in. Sophie’s phone blew up with requests:

“Can you get me two blondes and a brunette, all matching poses?”
“One doing the splits. Naked. Smiling.”
“Can you laminate them so they last forever?”

The remote had a “Protective Finish” option. One click, and the pinups became waterproof, stain-proof, and effectively indestructible. They could hang in the shower, be tacked to a basement wall, or passed around at parties without losing their crisp, obscene detail.

By the end of the week, Sophie’s dorm closet looked like an art print shop. Rows of flattened, naked cheerleaders hung on clips, their empty eyes staring out at nothing while their bodies advertised themselves to whoever had the cash.

Every sale made Sophie’s wallet fatter — and her collection smaller. But that didn’t bother her. The girls she sold were gone for good, hanging in frat houses, garage walls, and man caves across campus.

No one at cheer camp suspected Sophie had done anything. The missing girls were “just absent” in the official record, and Sophie made sure no one asked too many questions.

But on campus? Everyone knew the legend of the “Cheer Pinups.” They just didn’t know the truth — that each one was still aware, still trapped, still naked, still helpless… and still for sale.