"These minerals seep deep down in your pores and release ever one of them bad ol' impurities, Hon." I wanted those bad ol' martini impurities to stay right where they were, but my face was wrapped so tight that the Jaws of Life couldn't have pried my mouth open.

I shot a killer look at Mary Grace, the so-called friend responsible this body torture. Tears poured down her face, which, incidentally, was NOT sealed like a bag of Fritos because she didn't want her make-up to streak.

She moaned. "I think I might be dying! The grim reaper is staring at me."

"Nuuuhh uuuhh," I groaned. "iiiissss ooooeee mmeeee."

She quit sobbing and stared at what used to be me. "And you are ...?"

Big Hair's sigh could be heard in Alaska. "That's yo' friend what you come in here with." She slapped more wet fabric on my hips turning my butt the color of a blueberry. Why did I let Mary Grace talk me into this?

"We'll lose a bunch of inches," she had declared. "Georgette went from a size-eighteen to a six her first time."

"What'd she do, turn herself into human jerky? Mary Grace, who the heck is Georgette?"

"The owner of Wrap It Up. She's nice."

"You've met her?"

"Of course. We chatted on the phone."

Mary Grace's new best friend hovered and successfully sabotaged our escape while her accomplice, the one with the biggest butt in Georgia, blocked the only exit. I was ready to pay them anything if they'd let us leave before we required life support.

Mary Grace's whines intensified. "I'm begging you, Georgette," she cried. "Unwrap us and don't hurt us anymore and we'll leave quietly."

Georgette ignored her. "Follow me," she ordered me, yanking my arm. I was too terrified to resist. "Stand up straight! You look like a pretzel!"

My entire body was shrink-wrapped. I could barely blink. Stand up straight? I wanted to kill that woman.

Big Butt Broomehilde left the exit door long enough to push my mummified body forward while Big Hair pulled. I staggered on feet wrapped in gauze and stuffed into plastic bags designed to collect my bad impurities. Other than me squish-squashing across the room, Mary Grace's sobs were the only sounds heard. Wrapped up tighter than King Tut, I made it to the rowing machine, at which point they ordered me to row for thirty minutes.

Surely they were not serious.

"But Aaaa haaa oooo eeee," I croaked.

"Why didn't you go before I wrapped you?"

I shook my eyeballs, my only moveable body parts.

"Just hold it."

"Nuuh uuuuhhh. Goatta goooo noowwww."

The she-devil glared at me and I'm not ashamed to admit that I feared for my life. "Big baby," she snarled, while ordering Big Butt Broomhilde to help her unwrap me.

While they snatched me baldheaded, Mary Grace quit carrying on. "I gotta go, too!"

It took us ten minutes to get unraveled from the embalming wraps and even less time to streak out of there before they thought about water boarding us.

"Mary Grace, you said Georgette was nice."

"I take it back," she yelled, plowing through her pocketbook for her car keys. "Delete. Delete. Delete!"

"Those women are certifiable, Mary Grace. That Georgette is a dominatrix. I've never been so scared in my life. I feel like slapping you into the middle of next week."

A scowl formed on her face; her eyes turned black. "Touch this body, girlfriend, and you'll draw back a nub. Now get in the car."

Any time my nubs are threatened, I do as I am told. We didn't speak until we were well away from the Torture Temple, and then Mary Grace started giggling. It was contagious. In no time, we were both laughing out of control.

"I need a tissue," she said, pulling over so she wouldn't kill us on I-95 while digging in her pocketbook. "Good lord, what an experience." She offered me a wadded up Kleenex.

I blew my nose. "Nobody will ever believe this."

She stopped laughing, grabbed my arm and squeezed. "Don't you dare tell anybody about this, you hear me? Not one word."

"No problem, Mary Grace. I promise not to say one word. Whoever heard of a one-word column?