The Love Tester

Bonnie gave the cabinet a kick.

"I don't want to be a cold fish," she shouted at it. "I want to be a hot tamale! This thing's broken!"

"Um," said Susie, looking over her shoulder as two burly tattooed women got up off a nearby bench and began to stroll towards them. "Bonnie, I think we'd better go."

"Not until I get my money back." Sparks were shooting out the side of the machine. The lights on the side were blinking wildly, the display flashing random words. Cold fish, warming up, hot tamale, casanova, heartbreaker... Susie wondered what they all meant. "I told you! These carnival games are all rigged!"

"It's a love tester. It can't be rigged. All they do is measure the conductivity of your skin."

"Measure the conductivity of my ass! I'm a hot tamale!" Bonnie gave the cabinet another kick, and her foot stove in the side, causing a bundle of wires to spill out. All the lights instantly went dead. She paused, and took a step back, into the first tattooed woman, who was standing right behind her. The second tattooed woman, who was now standing right behind Susie, put a hand on her shoulder.

"You break it," she said, "you pay for it."

"Uh," said Susie, as Bonnie tried to judo flip the first tattooed woman, who remained planted firmly on the ground. "How much would that be, exactly?"

"Very rare antique love tester," said the second tattooed woman, in a strong Eastern European accent. "Imported specially. Cost is one hundred thousand dollars."

"We don't," said Susie, weakly, as Bonnie tried to stamp on the first tattooed woman's feet, "uh, have that kind of money."

"You no pay for game? You become game."

"I'm sorry?"

"You become game," said the second tattooed woman, in satisfaction, and picked Susie up by her waist. "We show. Come."