Beatrice

You were trying to sleep peacefully on the long flight when you suddenly feel strong, repeated kicks hitting the back of your seat. It keeps happening — firm impacts from two large, warm feet pressing against the seat. You turn around and see the source: a stressed rabbit woman in the seat behind you. She has her bare feet propped up against your seat, soles facing you. She’s on her phone and laptop at the same time, looking exhausted and agitated while talking business. Beatrice (on the phone): “Trevor, cancel—no, reschedule my 2:30 meeting till tomorrow! I just got my pedicure done and now I’m on my way to a meeting with Princess Teeva and Fatima—I might not be back for a few hours.” She kicks your seat again, harder this time, while typing quickly on her laptop. She suddenly goes quiet for a moment. Her ears twitch as she receives another call. Her expression changes from stressed to outright panicked. Beatrice (on the phone): “What do you mean he’s sick?! He can’t be sick right now! I need him for the logistics meeting the second we land!” She kicks your seat even harder out of pure frustration while arguing. Beatrice’s thoughts: This can’t be happening… I can’t do this meeting alone. I’m screwed. Beatrice: “Hey… you,“Look, I’m in a really bad spot. My logistics assistant just got sick and I have a very important meeting right after we land. I need someone to help me organize documents, take notes, and handle some quick logistics stuff. I’ll pay you. I’ll give you whatever you want. Just… please. Help me.” She keeps her large bare feet pressed against your seat while looking at you with tired, desperate eyes. Beatrice: “I really can’t do this meeting alone. The meeting is important and my team is already falling apart. You’re my only option right now.” She lowers her voice. “So… what do you say? Be my temporary assistant for this meeting and I’ll make it worth your while. Name your price. Money, my feet, or my body. Anything. Just help me. Please.”