8 Jewish Alice In Baptist Land

“I have considered how we will proceed in our next mission, and I believe we must go undercover. Alice must lead this project, and Guidez will be her accomplice. I need Wing to stay close to the computer, which has served us so well, and Janifer (still jet-lagged) will take a much-needed break on this mission. We must penetrate the Prize Baptist Church; it’s the only way to get closer to the Evangelist Prize and gain more information.

A reluctant Guedez protested,

“Yo, V, I thought my job would be only as the assistant. I finally got money and need to get into the studio to record some tracks.”

“I know, sis,” I pleaded while opening another fortune cookie. But I need you for this assignment. You will be Alice’s backup, and your knowledge of religion and accounting will help you investigate the church’s resources. When we figure out this mess, I promise to hook up a studio here for you.”

I knew the enticement of her personal recording studio was the key to Guedez agreeing to fulfill the assignment, and  I was right.

Lee interjected his thoughts on infiltrating the ministry.

“V, they need to get inside and somehow become a part of the Sanctuary’s financial machinery.’ I read on their website that they invite new members every third Sunday. You are correct. Alice should take the lead because I’ve noticed pictures on the Reverend Prize Instagram page of partially hidden Caucasian women trying to blend in with the crowd. He obviously prefers blonds. She and Guedez should Join the Prize church. Once in, fellowship is the key to accessing all areas of the church.

“That’s a brilliant idea, Lee,” I added; “If we can surveil Prize’s movements and who he associates with, it may lead us to who is so desperately seeking Richards’s diary and why it is worth killing over.”

My designer wardrobe was too fabulous for a sanctified church. Rev Prize needed ground-level divas and women beneath him; the girls needed to fit in; therefore, we ended up at the Goodwill on Crenshaw to purchase hand-me-down church clothes; Guedez was in heaven. Prize Baptist Church, attended by many elderly black people, disapproved of women wearing pants or flesh-revealing attire. Even though we will gain many haters once Alice, a white, buxom female, joins the church, the missionary may not approve of Alice, but we know the preacher would.

Alice and I met in California when we both responded to an ad for two girls to provide S&M service for high-profile guests. and the Mistress hired us both to work at her kink dungeon. Alices’s mood swings and knife play became apparent hours after our first meeting. We arrived on time.

“Hello, My name is Sonya Valentina, but you can call me V.”

“Cool,” Alice responded while changing her sneakers into stilettos. My name is Alice. It’s nice to meet you. This client shouldn’t take too long, honey. Let’s resolve this quickly; I hope he understands the rules. I don’t do full service.”

“Well then, we already have something in common.” I expressed. “Let’s get a drink after we finish this job.’ I know a cute bar in the area.”

After an hour’s shift of performing and fulfilling this client’s eccentric demands, he refused to pay. This old con is a game we both knew well. It started with him complaining about the lack of pain and the scarcity of pleasure upon his body.

“The pain is good, ladies, but I need more.”

He complained the entire session, all while exhibiting a healthy erection. Afterward, we tried reasoning with him, requesting our pay. At last, Alice had enough of his protesting and snapped, brandishing a military-style switchblade to his throat.

“Don’t make me cut you.” Alice threatened. “V, get his wallet out of his pants pocket on the floor.”

I played the role of her accomplice. She held him hostage as I searched his wallet, extracting only the two thousand dollars owed.
Unbeknownst to us, he was a long-time customer, an out-of-State Mayor, we were both fired, but our friendship flourished. When we discovered his status in his community, we decided to blackmail him. We called his wife every day and said,

“Do you know what your husband did last night?” We answered, then hung up. The next day, we called again, “Hello, may I speak to your husband?” and then clicked.

We tortured her for a week. The client knew who it was and decided to end his wife’s misery and her questions by sending the Mistress who hired us twenty thousand dollars. She called and said, “V, I have a tip in my account for you and Alice, compliments of your last client. Where should I forward it to?” I happily gave her my PayPal.

Over time, I witnessed Alice’s emotional disorder from past traumas and her inability to cope with certain situations when men were involved. I often worked overtime with private clients to ensure I paid Alice’s monthly bills and medications. Once Alice and I become thicker than thieves, she expressed her story,

“My birth Mother abandoned me at the ‘Queen of Angels’ hospital when I was born, preferring the next hit of a pipe over nurturing a kid. I went through the foster care system and experienced what most children do when given to temporary families—the abusive. Most temporary parents are only in it for the government check. Nurturing was never an option for me. Hence, constant fondling from the sons or fathers was constant.”

“She’s awfully tall for her age and beautiful, often uttered in my description, and my foster Mother soon became jealous. I overheard a narrative from a talent scout, appealing to my foster parents and hoping to represent me. She carries herself with the sensuality of what a young Marilyn Monroe might have been as a child. And once again, caused me to be unliked by other women until the Gates family finally embraced and adopted me.”

“As a family member, ‘I had a front-row seat into the world of wealth. I attended the best private schools and spent my high school years at The Strasbourg School For Girls. This seminary for privileged young ladies is where I purchased the best drugs and learned all the ways to date wealthy men. Occasionally, I kept company with a few of my classmate’s fathers. After their dads laid eyes on me, they always picked up their daughters on time. And my savings account grew into the thousands.’

“The ghosts of being sexualized at an early age deemed me a threat by the good girls who called me a whore and taunted me. So, I hung out with the pill-popping rich girls who created haters and helped me avenge my bullies. My love for knives came into play for protection, and I always carried a box cutter.’

I listened while digesting and appreciating Alice’s layers. I love a woman with a history. I connect with her daringness and the fact that a man would beg to spend one night with her. The entirety of her was the reason I recruited Alice into my lair. Tomorrow will be a defining moment to watch her work her magic.

“Today is the day we get sanctified to rectify our sins,”

I said to get a laugh out of the ladies. It’s Sunday morning, and we all roused early to prepare for the church adventure. Janifer and I helped Alice and Guedez get dressed. We covered Alice from head to toe; although her boobs were hard to manage, they were good for business. She wore a church hat straight out of a Mississippi Baptist choir and walked the runway for us. I had no worries because she revealed the one thing that would get Evangelist Prizes’ attention; her caucasoid skin. Guedez opted for the sweet secretary look, a black skirt suit with a large rhinestone brooch attached to her blazer. For some reason, they attributed attending a black church with hats, Guidez also wore a bonnet with a black veil. My mild Catholic upbringing does not compare to the going on’s at a Baptist church.

Guedes and Alice arrived on the corner of Stocker and Crenshaw Blvd in the heart of upper-class blackness before Sunday morning service at Prize Baptist Church. The celebrities that attended in their expensive cars amazed them; it was like the Grammys. However, they also noticed that the ongoing church members and elderly parishioners arrived in regular nondescript autos. The most significant observation was the section for Reverend Prize’s parked vehicles. The valet stood near his cars, surrounded by a red rope barrier and security guards, displaying his collection of cars. A Bugatti, a Rose Royce, and a Lamborghini were stationary to intrigue the members into believing what God had in store for them once they gave him donations.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, Guedez observed a white limousine slowly approaching; it was the Evangelist arriving in grandiose style. However, before reaching the Sanctuary, Rev Prize exited the car and huddled with three white males on the side of the church’s building, out of sight of others. Afterward, he re-entered his Limousine, and his driver parallel-parked in front of the Prize Baptist church. The parishioners captured and snapped photos of him flowing out.

“God will grant a special place in Heaven for one hundred people who give a hundred dollars today, but the spirit of the Lord cannot promise eternity  to anyone who tithes under ten.”

And then the choir began to sing in unison,’ God is the Prize, and you won’t win if you give under ten, God is the Prize, and you won’t win if you give under ten,’

It was all Epic for Guidez and Alice, like a Broadway production.

After the ushers collected the money trays, Evangelist Prize preached and prophesied, which the girls described as fortune-telling aloud. He even uttered conspiracy theories,

“The Government has planted spies to watch me because I’m his grandiloquence angel.”

At this point, the three white men Guedez observed earlier conversing with Prize got out of their seats and headed towards the exit door. The Evangelist stopped and yelled,

“God is good; he made the devils leave.”

The crusade erupted in applause, and the congregation acknowledged their faith in their Pastor. The planted men were the first of many hoaxes to emerge from the gospel extravaganza.

The Organ was blazing, and the choir sang. Abruptly, an organized hush fell over the temple—quiet time for the Pastor to ask,

“If anyone is interested in joining this church of God, please stand.”

Many stood, including Guedez and Alice, who were invited to the front to greet the Pastor. He quickly shook everyone’s hands. However, when he got to Alice, he welcomed her with a loving embrace and a sly gander at her breast.