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Conjoined female twins and their mother fall for same man.

"How much?" asked Marty.

"Seventy bucks an hour"

Two women passing looked at them with interest. "Hell, I'd pay her treble for an hour; she's gorgeous," the older woman said to her companion.

Marty met Bianca's eyes and they both burst into laugher.

"I hope you wouldn't think I'd be such a skinflint in paying for THAT service," he laughed, and virtually bellowed when Bianca replied, "But I never charge."

Recovering first Bianca said if seventy bucks an hour to find a suitable wife/business partner was too expensive, he'd better try elsewhere.

"No, it's fine - but to keep the lid on it, could you report in every evening you work on my case, say between 6:00 and 7:00?"

"Certainly. I take it you are free to marry?"

"Yes, I'm thirty-three, quite wealthy after my grandmother's estate came my way. My parents are living in Boston at the moment. Oh - candidates must like dogs and horses."

"Horses?"

"Yes, those sexy things, usually brown with long classy legs, a mane and sometimes wear reins and a saddle. Grandma left me a lush 33-acre lifestyle block. I inherited three horses, three dogs and seven Hereford steers."

"What, no bull?" "Steers are cattle a little removed from requiring the service of a bull."

"Oh gawd, I knew that. I love horses."

"Well, you've scored a big point there, haven't you? Bye."

Bianca decided to allow him see the blush. "Bye." He looked at her intently before turning away.

Well, he'll be a great catch for someone she thought, walking back to the office. There were five telephone messages, four of them business calls. Time to advertise for a receptionist; perhaps some of those applicants could be of interest to Marty?

The next hour was spent at the computer designing a questionnaire to capture all the information she needed on Marty, explaining in a covering note that women were too discriminatory to line up to be interviewed as a prospective wife without knowing such things and hair loss in his family, did he snore, employment and salary details, political affiliation, attitude towards children and level of respect for women.

Bianca emailed that off. Back came the questionnaire filled in with a couple of comments:

"You forgot to ask about favorite sexual position, do I habitually leave the toilet seat down and how much of my income would she get a month. Excellent questions thought."

Bianca replied: "Thank you for prompt action and I find your attitude encouraging. I had to leave some questions for the young women to ask at their interview. I suggest you spend the night with each one in a hotel to test performance..."

The phone went. Bianca had meant to write 'Joke' in brackets after that last word performance but lost concentration. She signed it 'Bianca' and fired it off and grabbed the phone.

"It's Fitzroy Herbert, speaking Bianca. I'm looking for support."

"Sorry Mr Herbert. I remain neutral; I don't donate to any political party or individual politician. If I want to grease palms use butter."

"Pardon me?"

"That bit about greasing palms was a joke, Mr Herbert."

"Oh I see, a joke eh? Haw-haw-haw. A consultant with a humor who looks like the back of a bus."

There was a silence.

"That bit about the bus was a joke Bianca."

"Oh, Heh-heh-heh."

"That's the spirit Bianca. I have an image problem - got caught cheating on my wife by my wife who's told the Sunday newspapers coming ou late Saturday night. May I come and see you?"

"Yes, anytime today. As I've just started the business I'm not overloaded yet."

"I suppose you demand $150 an hour?"

"No, a flat $100 is fine. If you don't have an over-enlarged ego, this will be a quick fix."

"I'm a politician, Bianca. We float on ego. Are you sure you're experienced?"

"I said over-enlarged ego - that's a matter for me to find out. I'll get the coffee machine primed up."

The phone went again. "Hi Bianca, it's Sara Bloom. How are you dear?"

"Fine and you?"

"Great.

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