*CRASH*

The recently replaced office glass shatters as Charlie is heaved through it by Senior, skidding along the shop floor as work comes to a halt again, the young man shaking off the dust and shards of glass as he struggles to get standing again while Chuck Sr. works at getting his muscular frame over the wall and through the window.

"What did I tell you, Junior! Marty likes the classics! Now you've spent god knows how much of our deadline installing blimp tits on Debbie and now we haven't got the time to change it!"

*THUD*

Having landed near another empty garbage bin, Charlie throws the projectile into Senior as he manages to get through the window finally, sending the older man tumbling.

"You're so full of yourself Dad! You think because you're obsessed with the same old Stepford bullshit that it's the only way to go, building anything new and different is like pulling teeth out of you!"

*SLAM*

Screaming in rage, Senior charges Charlie and slams him into a nearby table, the two coming to blows with Senior landing a clean shot across the jaw and throwing his son onto the table.

"Your mother is a Stepford! You're going to come into MY shop and disrespect your mother! That's it, you're FIRED!"

Walking nearby with a small metal ladder and eating a banana, Tommy watches on before Senior comes over and roughly grabs the ladder, shoving his youngest son out of the way. As Senior sets up the ladder near the table, Tommy in the background stumbles and drops his snack, slipping on the peel and is left windmilling his arms as he falls down. Climbing to the top of the small ladder overlooking Junior still reeling from the punch, Senior points to the sky and then to Junior before jumping off the ladder, driving his elbow into him as the table breaks in half underneath the force, leaving the two groaning on the cement of the shop floor.

"You… *cough cough* ugh… can't fire me… I… quit…"


* * * * *


The mood in the shop is stifling after yet another row between Chuck Sr. and Charlie. It's at times like this when the boys need to remember they're family and that will never change no matter what, and that job usually falls to the loveable goofball Tommy as the camera catches him cleaning the clear plastic platforms of the sky-high stripper stilettos Clara County Bimbo has on-hand for gentleman club jobs.

"You know it wasn't always like this." Tommy sticks out his tongue as he concentrates with a cloth on making sure the inside of the platform was clear of any chemicals and ready for water and a fish. "Yeah, Dad and Charlie would fight but back in the day it was about important stuff and they'd usually be able to talk it out with words and move on. As the shop has gotten bigger though they keep taking on a lot of unnecessary pressure and it feels like they're on a hair trigger, and instead of talking it's just trying to out-macho each other in fist fights. I've been thinking about leaving y'know? Maybe if ol' Tommy isn't around to mellow the vibe the two of them will finally realize that kind of toxicity is unnecessary and drives people apart, finally make up and-"

His microphone cuts off as the camera tilts upwards, being set down as a member of the crew talks to Tommy, the conversation still caught by a nearby boom mic. "Huh? Yeah didn't you want me to talk about the importance of family and getting together and-" The voice of the director cuts him off, her tone indicating that he was doing fine. They just needed to reset the lighting for the segment and if Tommy could just sit still for a moment so they could get a profile of him. "Yeah, I can do that. Do you want my right side or my good side? You know I'm glad you guys are taking my viewpoint a bit more seriously, I've got a lot of good ideas for the shop- Look into the camera? It's not even pointed at me. Oh, that camera? Yeah sure I can… can… look… loo-"*AUDIO FEED CUT. EDIT OUT IN POST FOR RERUNS. LIVE VIEWERS THIS SEGMENT DID NOT AIR, YOU DID NOT SEE IT, YOU WILL NOT REMEMBER IT. REMOVAL IN THREE. TWO. ON-*

*BZZT*

* * * * *

The mood in the shop is stifling after another row between Chuck Sr. and Charlie, the two having segregated themselves on opposite ends of the shop. With the stress of the deadline looming, Senior has taken over for Junior in finishing off Deborah's customization in order to get her ready for Marty. With her flat on the Rack, her face is obscured by the huge orbs now sitting in the custom metal mold over her upper body. While time is of the essence, Chuck Sr. has been in the custom modification game for long enough to know you always measure twice, carefully outlining the shape he was crafting with cardboard and calculating before moving onto the real thing.

"Junior's a real fuck-up sometimes, but I sent a photo of her to Marty and he seems pretty happy with the direction we're going. I was thinking we could go with a nice svelte curve but with how top-heavy she is, she'll need to have her bottom half built up to keep her center of gravity and aesthetic appeal."

Moving over to the cutting table, Senior lights up a torch and pulls down a welding mask, sparks flying as he works on the mold. Nearby sit two nearly identical round shapes, one made of clear silicone and the other looking more flesh-tone and clear.

"I had to take over because I knew with the way Junior was thinking, he'd keep hammering away with all the new school ideals they taught him at that fancy college. He'd be shoving in silicone and needles and slamming down on the pump until Deborah looked like one of those new-wave rapper girls, big butts puffed to the limit and so fake they barely jiggle. That's where blue-collar smarts, the things you learn by working with your hands like back in the good old days, comes in handy."

Despite his words, the fleshy masses he began applying to Deborah were transforming her into a bottom-heavy bimbo, the mold looking curvaceous and fertile as it was welded into place. Senior walks the Rack and Deborah over to a nearby machine and using an old-fashioned crank, begins to smoothly push a cylinder towards a hole left in the mold between her legs. Deborah weakly groans as it pierces her, Senior continuing to rotate the crank until it is nestled deep inside her. With a flick of a switch, the old electronics bustle to life and hum as the metal cylinder begins to expand and contract, moving incrementally wider with each repetition.

"Marty's a farmer not just by trade but by blood, his farm has been in his family for generations. Even if he's looking to make a switch he's still going to want something familiar to grab a hold of. What I've done is repurposed Deborah's lower half from 'Housewife' to 'Broodmare', the machine we have her on right now widening her hips to give her that breedable stance and shape. Up top and from the front, Marty'll feel like he has a whole new bimbo. When she's face-down, ass-up in bed though, she'll have the fine curves and realistic jiggle of a proper animal in heat. Considering how happy the girls in Marty's farm are, you know he enjoys his work and will fall in love with Deborah's freshly built fertile field with every plow. Now that's a Clara County Bimbo guarantee."

Across the shop, the camera makes its way towards Junior as he works on a contract job that requires less customization but pays the bills. Nearby, two freshly minted bimbos stand at the ready to be loaded up, smiles bright and eyes empty as they were prepped to travel in the waiting military truck by the CCB crew. Efficient and automated after hours of repetition, the slim but attractive blonde women that made up the majority of non-cast staff moved in synchronization to complete the job as quickly as possible.

Junior meanwhile was near a massive full-body mold, adjusting a gurney with a naked restrained woman struggling so that it was properly aligned with the entrance. Even at a distance, she was covered in grime, dirt, and possibly blood, looking more like she had come out of a warzone in comparison to entering the pristine shop of CCB. Her short dark hair was matted and filthy, and the boom mic was close enough to catch snippets of her shouting, something about resistance and the names of two women before the audio cut out to Junior whistling to himself, loading her into the mold while ignoring her silent cries.

The large steel block sealed around her with a hiss of steam and hydraulics, slowly rotating up and depositing the gurney sans it's occupant into Junior's waiting arms, muscles flexing as he easily maneuvers it out of the way and the mold goes fully vertical, light illuminating the pink mist escaping from the cracks…


* * * * *


*CUT LIVE FEED TO COMMERCIAL. CUT BROADCAST TO PUBLIC FREQUENCIES. CONTINUE BROADCASTING TO PRIVATE DONOR AND ELITE FREQUENCIES*

Sarah struggled to clear her eyes of the brilliant white light that had blinded her, coughing out the sugary sweet scent out of her throat as she found herself trapped. "You'll- *cough cough* You'll never win! The resistance lives on!" The words barely echoed in the container she was in, emphasized by the fact that she couldn't put any real heart in it. She had seen what had happened to Trinity and Rachael, knew the risks when they had attempted to infiltrate the farm on their rescue op. Still, Sarah would resist until-

A brilliant white screen flared to life in front of her, causing her to blink again rapidly, a shock of sound echoing around her making her forget to close her eyes as the opening notes to 'The Star-Spangled Banner' began to play around her. The image of an American flag flying in the wind underneath a clear blue sky appeared on the screen. Not just any American flag either but her American flag. The one she remembered and fought for, endured the difficult training and sleepless nights of life before the Change… the one she joined the resistance for. As the camera began to zoom-out though, a woman came into view. Blonde, clear blue-eyes ringed in glowing pink, a vacant stare and a brilliant smile as she saluted the flag, Sarah's flag, exaggerated curves and flawless skin on full display in a mockery of a military uniform. Her bust threatened to undo the tiny knot of her olive green crop top, her tiny waist only enhancing how curvaceous and full her rear was in the tight olive mini skirt, standing still and proud on platform stiletto boots, the thigh-highs polished bright and black.

Sarah tried to look anywhere else, but was frozen in shock as she took in the mirrored image of what her friends had become. Long blonde curls with a color-matching garrison cap delicately pinned to the top framed the absolute picture of femininity. High cheekbones, with heavy make-up enhancing and contouring the delicate and attractive features of the blue-eyed woman, her overly full and pink-glossed lips spread wide in a smile full of hope and pride as she saluted the flag. Sarah no longer saw her gaze as empty and vacant, but rather singular in her love for the country Sarah also shared an unwavering loyalty to… America.

Pride swelled in Sarah's chest as she immediately connected with the bimbo on the screen, or perhaps it was a different feeling as she was too focused on the screen now to look down and see her breasts were quite literally starting to swell. An old-timey tape recording sound began to play, sounding exactly like the classic radio broadcasts she used to listen to and causing Sarah to relax, her own lips starting to part in a matching smile as her eyes widened to take in the whole screen.

"Welcome to America, The Greatest Country on Earth." Sarah nodded, her thoughts filling with patriotism and bliss at the voice of a man, his voice clear and trustworthy through the static sounds of an old recording that were dulling the other parts of her mind questioning such an obvious fact. "This… is the Bouncing Betty, the backbone of the American military and our country's greatest asset in the war against the resistance."

Sarah sighed as she took in the sight of the beautiful bimbo again, standing tall and proud and protecting her flag against… against… It was hard to think about anything other than her love for her country but Sarah vaguely remembered… wasn't she a part of the resistance?

"Now obviously you, an upstanding and patriotic citizen of America, know that the resistance are the bad guys. However, we must remain vigilant at all times for others who might think otherwise. Only a dummy would fall for the lies of the resistance, and only a dummy would let their love for their country be twisted into something that is… well, just plain wrong."

Was that what had happened? It made sense, she loved America and everything it stood for, every inch of her wanting to join the Bouncing Betty in saluting its glorious flag. She thought she’d never betray her country, but a deep pit of shame opened up inside Sarah. Her memories felt tainted by the fact that she could have been fooled into helping people she thought knew what was best for her country. With such a strong and confident voice telling her like it was, Sarah felt like a moron at the fact that she could have been so easily tricked… a real dummy.

"And that, my fellow Americans, is where the Bouncing Betty comes into play." Any sense of unease or discomfort was whisked away from Sarah at the sight of the blonde bimbo, now working hard at helping the good citizens of a picturesque suburban town enjoy a county fair. "Betty isn't just any bimbo, she's an American icon, her loyalty and service to our fair nation and its citizens unmatched. A living reminder of what our country is capable of when we all come together underneath the banner of the red, white, and blue."

She couldn't stop smiling, Sarah's giddiness and pride forcing a giggle out of her as she shook out a mane of long blonde curls, having to adjust her stance to something more comfortable, something like the Bouncing Betty on screen standing at attention in front of a playground where good little American boys and girls played good old fashioned games. Sarah could feel herself idolizing the beautiful woman on screen… a Bouncing Betty would never be tricked by the lies and deceit of the resistance. 'Gosh I'm such a dummy.' Sarah thought to herself, something that felt obvious as her thoughts struggled through molasses, feeling light-headed she took deep breaths of that sugary sweet scent.

"Citizens like you know that with a gal like Bouncing Betty at every corner, your neighborhood is safer, happier, and a more pleasant place to live. Working day and night, rain or shine, to ensure we all get to live The American Dream."

The camera in front of Sarah cuts to a Bouncing Betty, face still frozen in a familiar smile that made her feel at ease as the Betty helped two men put up a poster warning against the resistance, the image of an ugly villain looking even darker next to the brilliant light of Betty. "I'm doing my part!" Her cheerful, breathy voice has Sarah moaning as arousal and pleasure flooded her system at the sight of Betty making America a better place, her nipples hard and engorged as her tits and hips continued to swell into bimbo proportions. 'Just like Betty.' the thought ghosted through her mind, setting off fireworks in her mind, instantly reminding her of July 4th as her fingers toyed with the twin points of pleasure, eagerly wishing her boobs were the same size as the woman on the screen.

"I'm doing my part!" The screen captured sight of a masked man, skinny and oily as he stole the American flag right out of the hands of an old woman and began to rip it apart, drawing an audible gasp from Sarah. The big R on his shirt obviously stood for the resistance, and she felt righteous satisfaction as a Betty slammed him to the ground and arrested him. They were so ugly and evil, unlike the Bouncing Betty who was smiling at the camera as she gave the old woman another flag to wave, its stars and stripes swirling together in a spiral of patriotic pride in Sarah's eyes.

"I'm doing my part!" It went on and on, Bouncing Betty's making America a brighter, better place at every corner. Cooking in the kitchen for a husband and wife struggling with intimacy; the two arguing that they didn't want children and shouldn’t be forced to conceive just to get by. Betty helping a farmer unload a new truckload of cowgirls into his barn; their gargantuan leaking tits streaming with precious milk, the backbone of every American diet. Stopping the evil resistance again from committing even more awful atrocities, as Betty is shown cradling the puppies and kittens she just rescued from the animal hospital the resistance had set on fire.

"I'm doing my part!" There were two Bettys on screen now, doubling Sarah's arousal as she watched. It was the couple from earlier, one Betty was keeping a visor bleeding light on the husband's head as he thrust his erect cock into his wife with all the subtlety of an animal in heat. The other Betty was keeping the wife's head steady with two canisters cupped over her ears, pink liquid leaking into the moaning woman as her body slowly ballooned into breeding material. Another American couple saved, doing their part in breeding and rearing young children into proper citizens for their nation. The sounds of sex and their gasping thanks to Betty and America were mirrored by Sarah, giddiness and joy filling the cotton candy of her mind at her heroes saving the day yet again.

She wished she could do her part. The thought came to her as if from a loudspeaker, sending her scattered thoughts to the wind as she continued to moan and squeeze and began fingering herself to the idea. Sarah wished she wasn't such a dummy, because only a dummy would have fallen prey to the evil resistance as hard as she did. That wasn't who she wanted to be. She was a real American through and through. She had to do her part. There had to be some way even a dummy like her could make amends as her attention focused back on the screen.

"-and of course every Bouncing Betty is an eager and willing volunteer, a young woman whose only desire is to serve her fellow Americans at all costs. To become one of the many things that makes this great country what-"

The narrator's voice faded from her thoughts as a small blurb appeared at the bottom of the screen, asking if she wanted to volunteer and become a Bouncing Betty. Sarah's hand had never moved faster, there was only one button she could press and it was the only answer she could ever have when asked that question. As the YES button glowed green and the blurb vanished, the camera swapped to an entire regiment of Bouncing Bettys, all saluting a massive American flag flapping in the wind on a military base.

Her own voice drowned out whatever was being said as she came hard around her fingers. She couldn't believe that someone like her, a dummy who had fallen for the evil lies of the resistances, would be able to be a Betty. The thought was orgasmic as a second climax shook through her at the very idea of being able to fix her mistake. Her mind turned to Trinity and Rachael, now knowing they were offered the same choice. Pride and love for her country filled her as she thanked it, for allowing her and her friends to make up for their mistakes, for the honor of getting to serve and obey as a Bouncing Betty.

And what better time to start than now? Sarah's hands fell away from her tits and pussy as she came to attention, a smile beaming from her plush lips as she saluted the flag on the screen. It's hypnotic swirls of stripes and stars filling her eyes and dying her mind in red, white and blue as patriotism and pleasure filled her. Somewhere, deep in the void of her old self, was a Sarah who had served her country faithfully, questioning and testing its integrity whenever she felt it had strayed from its own ideals. It was there that some part of her realized that by becoming a Bouncing Betty, she never will again. Her smile couldn't have grown wider from the happiness that thought gave her, voice brimming with subservient joy as she uttered the final line of the film in time with the narrator, something suctioning up against her ears right before warm fluid began to flood into them.

"God Bless America, and no place else."

*CUT SECONDARY BROADCASTS, RETURN TO PRIMARY. RETURN TO PUBLIC FREQUENCIES. RETURN TO LIVE ON AIR IN THREE. TWO. ONE.*

*BZZT*


* * * * *


The mold hissed with steam and pressure as it opened, a beatific smile across the pink-glossed lips of the newest Bouncing Betty, her body an exact replica of the two already loaded in a waiting American military truck. Clara County Bimbo staff were precise and mechanical in their inspection, quickly dressing her up in the tight bimbo uniform and fixing her hair and makeup until she was the perfect Bouncing Betty, before putting her on the opposite side of her fellow bimbos while Charlie and Tommy, the latter dazed and distracted with a fidget spinner, looked on.

"Government contracts are the easiest way CCB makes its money, and what it lacks in creative rewards it more than makes up for it by letting us do our part in fulfilling our patriotic duty. Much like those girls, brave volunteers wanting to serve this great nation as Bouncing Bettys, the backbone of the American ideal. Not just in helping their fellow citizens and keeping us safe at home but also joining our soldiers on the front lines as they fight for our freedom. We here at Clara County Bimbos support our troops, and send off every batch of new Bettys with a salute to their service."

Charlie smartly salutes the truck and bimbos as they begin to move out, American flag hanging on the wall and clearly in frame. He notices Tommy still obviously playing with the spinner and kicks him gently, the large man jumping to his feet and wiping drool from his mouth and saluting in one sloppy motion, his older brother sighing as the truck drives off towards the good fight in the name of the Red, White, and Blue. The camera swaps to a drone outside as it shows off the outside of the shop and zooms into the sky to showcase the gigantic flag they also had fluttering outside. A red-tailed hawk flies by, releasing a piercing cry as it dives, image flickering for a moment as its form is replaced with a bald eagle mid-flight.


* * * * *


Clara County Bimbos has a tradition of taking every new build out for a test ride to see if Senior and Junior will give it their seal of approval before initiating the final step. The build being nearly finished is like a pressure release valve for the shop, father and son all smiles and shoves friendly as they inspect their work. Deborah has been transformed from a classic customization to a one-of-a-kind masterpiece, her new curves so emphasized and remodeled that Senior reckons Marty won't recognize this bimbo fertility goddess as the model he dropped off. Each breast sat high and perfect, their symmetry and perfect orbital shape as pleasing to the eye as their gargantuan mass was. Junior hadn't stopped there, giving her mouth and hair a movie-makeover, lips red and pumped to the max, reshaped so an oval opening and pristine teeth were always visible even when closed, and her once long blonde hair was now fashionably short and dyed a more realistic shade of red than The Widow Maker bimbo her face and tits were modeled after.

Meanwhile Senior knocked it out of the ballpark with his decision to go thick, hippy, and fertile. Her wide stance provided even her new thicker thighs a gap when she was up and moving, a mincing sex-kitten walk that would send her enhanced fat rear jiggling seductively. The extreme curves of new school from Junior and old school from Senior have given Deborah a new lease on life, with the only thing left to do is take her for a spin before refilling her and hand her off to Marty.

"I feel like I don't say this often enough but… Junior was right. Deborah's new look is exactly the type of bimbo that will drive Marty wild, and not just from the way he inspired my own modifications. These full, firm fakes look amazing from any angle, covered or naked and provide a solid, secure feel underneath the palm as you hold on for dear life when those huge lips take a hold of you."

Deborah was unrestrained from the rack, laid out face up on an examination table that was the perfect height for Chuck Sr. to ram his foot long pipe into her face. Her hands loosely grabbed and flailed at his muscular cheeks and thighs before limply dropping, the bimbo fully awake but exhausted as the boys needed to ensure she had no residue left inside of her before starting the final build step. Not that she was feeling anything but pleasure as Senior's oversized cock stretched her throat, her new modification ensuring that she couldn't bite down and that even were she unconscious her mouth and throat would automatically lick, suck, and vibrate any dick that penetrated it.

His hips moved violently as he stuffed her face, hands groping her huge fake breasts hard and firm as he used them to steady himself. New receptors in her body and brain turned any discomfort or pain into pleasure, while bimbo customization meant her body could take any abuse thrown at hit, with nothing short of an explosion damaging her tough, fast-healing body long enough to stop her from looking her bimbo best.

At the other end of the table was Junior, Deborah's legs straight and frozen as he tested her flexibility while preventing her from causing any damage to her newly built bottom. His own mammoth cock was a mirror to Senior's as it pumped in and out of the enhanced depths and folds of Deborah's bimbo cunt. Like the rest of her, it was modified to stretch to the limit to hold the absurdly sized pillar of man with gentle pleasurable pressure no matter the size. With every thrust her juicy thighs and oversized ass jiggled with momentum as he pounded into her.

"I know we have our differences, but it's because I respect Dad and his work so much that I want to make the kind of bimbo that makes him proud. The fact that even after we fought about it, he trusted my instincts and went full on fertile, is what family is about. Trusting each other, no matter what. These kinds of moments are why we do it, coming together as father and sons to build something special. Also… I may have gone to a big city college for design school, but I don't think any man wouldn't appreciate wide birthing hips on a bimbo. Heh, I know Tommy'd agree."

Off to the side, Tommy is casually stroking his own cock with two hands. The young man was taller and bulkier than the other Tuttle's and his exposed erection was no different, the inhuman organ massive and dark with blood as the tip constantly leaked thin clear liquid while his hands spread it along his length. His normally jovial and joking face was frozen in a state of bliss as he pumped away in mindless pleasure. It wasn't long before his brother and dad joined him, the inspection no longer about admiring their work but using Deborah for the purpose they built her for. Junior was jackhammering into her with glassy eyes staring at nothing, Senior mirroring his movements as an empty smile curls underneath his fu-manchu and his cock continues to stretch the bimbo with complete disregard for her comfort or sanity, her body shaking as it enters a state of constant climax, and the group loses itself entirely to pleasure.

It seems over even before it begins though as the three men groan in unison, the two who were impaling the bimbo pulling out so they could pump their seed onto her body. Tommy sets off a chain reaction as the first to climax when they all orgasm at once, their enhanced sexual organs pumping out truly unbelievable amounts of solid white liquid. Tommy alone goes on for long seconds after Senior and Junior are empty, leaving the two amused and laughing, shoving at each other oblivious to their nudity.

Once Tommy had finished, Junior preps a nearby hose to blast Deborah clean, the bimbo limp and barely conscious after having her body and mind forced to endure several orgasms back to back. The two men work together to get her back on the Rack, maneuvering the stand to a nearby machine and a large clear tank full of thick pink goo. After putting her in place, they both readjust her restraints and grab a small clear hose from either side of her. Placed over her ears, the rubber surrounding the end vacuums itself to the side of her head and startling her in consciousness. Deborah has been run ragged but she still tries to move, tries to curse or scream or beg, right up until Senior places a bulky helmet with a dozen wires exiting from it into the machine and slides down a thin pink visor, a spinning spiral appearing as it moves counter-clockwise and catches her eyes.

Junior throws a nearby switch as electricity and modern tech hum into life, the pink goop of the tank slowly filling the hoses as it makes its way towards Deborah. When it reaches her, her body moves again for a moment, ecstasy obvious as her body and mind succumb to the fluid being slowly pumped into her head, the programming of the visor rewriting her new bimbo brain with all the information she'll need as Marty's bimbo. Senior looks on with his arms crossed and a look of pride.

"So here at the shop we use the Marvelous Misty's Bimbo Bliss formula for all our bimbo brain lubrication and assimilation needs. Not only is it the top of the line bimbofication fluid on the market, but it's made in America. So any time you need to buy a bottle for your own bimbo needs at home, just know that when you reach for a bottle of Misty's you're doing your part in supporting our boys in blue, saluting to service, and celebrating the unsung heroes of our great country. We make a great team eh son?"

The camera centers in on the two men as they clasp hands on the shop floor, forearms muscular and veins popping as they flex for the shot before walking off. The center of the screen is now dominated by Deborah on the Rack, zooming onto her expressionless face as a ring of pink appears and begins to glow around her irises behind the visor. The spiral continues to spin but as it becomes the main focus on the screen its rotation seems to warble and move, now spinning clockwise instead of reflecting reversed in the pink visor. Time slows down as the camera seems to hold on this shot for far too long, the screen flashing in moments too quickly for conscious recognition but the minds of any viewer still unconsciously receive the message being broadcasted:

BIMBOS AREN'T PEOPLE
BIMBOS ARE PLEASURE
PLEASURE IS SERVITUDE
SERVITUDE IS OBEDIENCE
OBEDIENCE IS PRIDE
PRIDE IS PLEASURE

PRIDE IN OUR NATION
OBEDIENCE TO OUR NATION
SERVITUDED TO OUR NATION
PLEASURE IN OUR NATION
REPORT ALL NON-PLEASUREABLES
TURN ALL NON-PLEASUREABLES INTO BIMBOS

…

…

*BZZT*

* * * * *

Marty is ecstatic over Deborah's new look, as excited to show her off at the expensive gala celebrating America's farmers, the backbone of our nation, as he is to get back home with her. He appreciates that despite being a small business owner, Clara County Bimbos and the Tuttles treated him the same as any of their big corporate or media partners, showing that even with all the money and fame their business has they're still the same down-to-earth, blue collar workers and friends he's known for years.

Deborah is a hit at the gala too as Marty makes a speech about his simple life, her barely there cocktail dress skin tight against ample curves, the sheer black fabric the only thing keeping her modest as she displays herself next to Marty on stage. The assembled crowd of wealthy American elites are generous in their applause for Marty, farms like his and the product they ship to every corner of the country responsible for keeping everyone fed, happy, and compliant.

She's not the only bimbo at the party either though, as Chuck Sr. and his bimbo bride Anne-Beth are among the guests. Next to her husband who was dressed in his classic formal sleeveless tux and tank top, Anne is the epitome of a high-class blonde sophisticated housewife in her pearls and long gown, face frozen in a vacant smile as she gently claps and laughs at anything and everything.

Several other gala guests are seated next to bimbos of every shape and size, beauty and curves making a dazzling erotic display in their evening wear as the wait staff, perfectly manicured and attractive blonde women dressed professionally for service tonight, cater to their every need. Even two of the wealthiest women in the country were in attendance, at their sides muscular and square-jawed handsome young men, their suits and beards perfectly tailored to exude masculine aesthetic, a pale blue ring glowing inside their eyes as a camera drone zooms out from the party to take in the skyline of New York, getting high enough to see an endless dome of stars extending far past the horizon…

…

*the sound of totally bald eagle screams and explosions fails to read the room as they shake the screen and the manly announcer returns*

"Join us next week on American Bimbo as Chuck Sr. and Charlie battle each other and deadlines as when a series of new builds threatens to sink the shop's reputation, forcing them to go to the extreme to turn a profit in the face of an impending shutdown!"

The camera cuts to Junior sitting peacefully at his desk in his office, working on new designs for bimbos and another project. "You know, I've always been curious about branching out into other modification scenes, using what we know to maybe start building Himbo products for an untapped client base not interested in our current-"

The door of Junior's office shatters as Senior dropkicks it open. In a show of absurd strength, his muscles bulge as he throws his son's desk into the wall. "I'll be buried six feet underground and even then my coffin better be locked because it'll be a cold DAY in hell before any son of mine starts working on himbos! Get your head in the game Junior! We just got a build request for the unsung heroes of America, our doctors and medical experts, and we have a week to build a nurse bimbo or our reputation is ruined!"

*CRUNCH*

Junior picks up his keyboard and slams it in half over his knee. "One week!? You've already got me and the crew working on two other builds with a one week deadline and you took on another!? That's impossible! You're insane!"

*CRASH*

The two of them clash screaming in the middle of Junior's office before throwing each other simultaneously through his office window onto the shop floor. They wrestle and throw fists before Senior finally throws his son into another office, the accountant looking bored at the violence as she shakes the dust out of her blonde ponytail, perfectly manicured nails tapping away at her keyboard.

"I'm not crazy! Our reputation is on the line and if these jobs aren't finished on time I'm ruined! Did you forget that we run a business here when you were off getting that big city college degree?"

*CACKACKACKACKACK*

Senior dives for cover as Junior emerges from the accountant's office with a fully automatic assault rifle, blasting away at his dad from the hip in slow motion as the camera frames him next to an American flag hanging on the wall.

"No! I'm the reasonable young idealist of our family! You can't keep asking the impossible to happen!"

*FWOOSH*

Senior walks on camera with a fully-functional flamethrower, napalm still burning on the concrete floor from an experimental shot sent across the shop at Junior.

"Impossible!? You'll make it possible and if you can't, then I guess you're gonna be F-F-FIRED!"

*THUNK*

The heavy warhead of the RPG falls into place as Junior picks up the shoulder mounted launcher, putting his father in the center of his crosshairs.

"Fired!? You can't fire me! I QUI-"

A soft clatter happens off-camera, causing father and son and crew to look towards the disturbance. Nearby, Tommy had clearly tripped over an uncovered electrical cord, his overladen cart full of new merchandise for Clara County Bimbo tipping over and scattering hyper-feminine dolls of the Bouncing Bettys (The #1 best selling toy for girls and boys! Available in all retail locations.) across the floor , leaving Tommy to struggle to pick the cart up from where it fell as his face goes red in embarrassment. Senior and Junior lower their weapons and laugh, shaking their heads and putting their hands on their hips as they looked at the clumsy youngest Tuttle.

"Tommy!"

*explosions rattle across the screen, covering it until they clear to reveal the logo for American Bimbo.*

"This broadcast has been brought to you by Clara County Bimbos, in association with Run by Machines Studios. Special thanks to our sponsors: Marvelous Misty's Bimbo Bliss, Click-off Tools, and BMB CORP Synthetics and Robotics. Produced by the American Government. Viewership is mandatory and failure to comply will result in a mark of Un-Pleasure in your permanent record. Watch. Consume. Pleasure. Obedience. Pride. God Bless America, and no place else."

*BZZT*