From hanging out with burn victims in the trauma ward, Marlena learned a thing or two about makeovers. Except sometimes she'd overdo it with the rouge and the wigs. Although she knew one fellow who was extremely accommodating in that sense. During one of their frequent get togethers while he was re-applying his lip gloss, he told her he was willing to, you know. So Marlena entered him. His ass had the dusky smell of an abandoned carnival ride, and Marlena immediately remembered the days of her childhood when men named Ted would pay to touch her in dark corners and private places. This was one way of her way of getting back.