Page 64 of Bless This Hot Mess

He dropped his voice to a whisper and then mouthed the last three digits, “...three, two, one.” The ON AIR light glowed red.

Rebekkah leaned in first, her voice syrupy with a radio smile, “Welcome to the future of fashion, where style meets comfort in the most unexpected ways. Imagine slipping into a statement piece that feels like a hug yet makes you look effortlessly chic. Our designs are crafted with the modern individual in mind. Blending functionality with flair.”

Ronald picked up smoothly, as though preaching a homily about the virtues of functional fashion, “Each item tells a story, our story, and we hope soon it will be yours, too. Picture yourself strutting down the street, or at the curling rink, or in your sailboat, or at the ski lodge, or doing a power walk down the grocery store aisles.”

Japheth swooped in, eyes shining, and heart beating with the intimate knowledge that Micah Ware, Esquire, was very likely listening to him (them!) right now. He purred into the mic, “You’ll be turning heads and feeling confident in what you wear. With Ware Wear, you’re not just putting onsomething off the rack, you’re making a statement. Get ready to redefine your wardrobe and express who you truly are. Aware.”

Rebekkah riffled her papers, momentum carrying her, “You know us. You trust us. You wear us.” She lifted her chin, warming to the script. “We’re the Wares. And we’ve been reliably living life authentically for decades with one goal in mind.”

Ronald leaned into his mic, eyes squinted to a sliver like he was reciting slam poetry, though he was out of necessity still cold reading, “To have fun. To create, to grow, to laugh, to learn. To love and to inspire you.To buy what we’re selling.Ware Wear & Wares is a family dynasty.”

Japheth’s grin widened and he seductively whispered, ‘It’s ours, but you can wear it. Where will you wear Ware Wear?”

Rebekkah shot side eyes at Japheth and raised an eyebrow at Ronald before dutifully asking, “Everywhere?”

Ronald nodded sagely, “Everywhere.”

Japheth gestured wildly with his hands as though he were vogueing with excitement as he discovered the vast array of Micah Ware’s empire. He preached, “Are you aware that we have gardening wear? Sailing wear? Ski wear? Hiking wear and wares?”

Rebekkah chimed in, droll as a newscaster, “Curling wear.”

Ronald tapped the desk for emphasis, “Meeting wear.”

“Via teleconference or the old-fashioned way!” Japheth’s eyes twinkled.

Rebekkah’s face scrunched into an expression that sandwiched incredulity and the pressure of this cold read, “Biking Ware wear and wares.”

Ronald offered up, “Investing Ware wear.” His voice tiltedup into a question toward the end subconsciously, unclear what one wore while investing.

Japheth, however, was growing increasingly ecstatic, “Landscaping Ware wear and wares. Workout Ware wear!”

The pitch of Rebekkah’s voice was rising with the absurdity, and she struggled to suppress a giggle, “It’s your birthday Ware wear.”

Ronald was able to remain solemn as a preacher, “Christmas Ware wear. Hanukkah Ware wear. Kwanza Ware wear. Where will you wear Ware Wear? Everywhere!”

Rebekkah, spread her arms as if embracing the studio and everyone in it, “Ware Wear is comfortable, breathable, form fitting, but not so tight that you can’t dance. Wear Ware Wear anywhere.”

Japheth, eyes half-lidded, and appearing he was entering a trance, murmured into the mic, “Come on. Come here. Come a little closer. Don’t be afraid. You need a little me in your life. I want to see the scene in your eyes. You want bold prints.Boldprints. You want to be seen and not heard. Fashion. Fashion saves. Fashion.”

Ronald, deciding there was no way out but through this mess, committed in his most dramatic movie-trailer voice, “You want to stand out from the herd and not be a sheep. You want to stand out from the herd and want to be seen and not heard. Back andbolderthan ever. The future of fashion has arrived. Get into it.”

Rebekkah, breathless, concluded, “The future of fashion has arrived. Coming soon. It’s already here. It’s arrived. Get into it. Glassware, table ware, hardware.”

Japheth sent up a whispery final prayer, “Where wear Ware Wear? Everywhere.”

Ronald’s baritone was richly deep with finality, “For everyone. Even you.”

Rebekkah noting Carrington’s note in the margin of the script,FAST, blurted out, “brought to you by Weinus, Weinus & Ware. Certain fabrics used in Ware Wear & Wares’ products may cause skin irritation, rashes, or allergic reactions in sensitive individuals. Results may vary. Discontinue use immediately if irritation occurs. Consult a physician if symptoms persist. Ware Wear & Wares and Weinus, Weinus & Ware are not liable for adverse reactions, personal injury, personal insults you may receive while donning our fashion, or damages resulting from the use or misuse of our products. Always read and follow care instructions. Not machine washable. Lay flat to dry.”

The ON AIR light flickered off. The studio was silent for half a beat, until Japheth whispered, almost reverently, “That was for you, Micah.”

The room smelled faintly of excess perspiration and chocolate frosting, which Rebekkah had earlier smuggled in on a cupcake.

Carrington clutched a clipboard to their sequined chest. “Well,” they whispered, “that was something.”

Japheth pressed his palms together like a prayer and nodded at Rebekkah, Ronald, Suwarna, Carrington and Jim, the engineer. Ronald wiped sweat from his brow, “I feel like we just sold our salvation.”

Rebekkah fanned herself with the script, “That was a fever dream. I don’t think fashion should feel like being recruited into a cult.”