Hello, my potassium-addicted darlings. I'm sorry that I haven't updated in such a long time, and I'm tempted to scratch out the last chapter. I changed the title, anyway. It's not the end…


MASSIE: Oh, snap. Where will I have to work no-


Don't worry, you hungry hungry hippos. I would never, ever write in script format.

Massie held her breath in slightly. She looked at the woman sitting next to her. The woman had was wearing a power suit complete with shoulder pads (Massie shuddered) and had a short, blonde haircut. She was decidedly unglamorous. Massie thought about jumping out of the car- which, now she recognized, was partially trashed- but then decided it would mess up her hair, or kill her. The limo was going way past the speed limit.

"Where are we going, unglamorous person?" Massie asked the woman. "And what role am I playing in the movie? Because if it's not the main character, I quit."

The blonde woman had a ghost of a smile on her face.

"I told you already." The lithe female replied, pulling out her scratched mobile phone. "We're going to Mexico, and besides, my name is-"

"Lies and deceit!" Massie screamed, standing up. "Blasphemy! You told me we were going to Canada to shoot the Clique movie!"

"Oh, shut up." The blonde woman said. "You know that's never going to happen."

Massie gasped. What else would the woman want her for? Looking at the statuesque woman she was running out of adjectives for, she realized that there was not a single designer item on her.


"You steal babies!" Massie directed at the woman. She looked confused. "You don't have expensive shoes, so you must murder people for a living!"

The kidnapper stared at Massie.

"Also," Massie continued, crossing her arms over her chest. "You must do a really sucky job at it. You don't look like you get paid anything."

The blonde woman looked like she wanted to take a lightsaber and pwn Massie, but instead she opened her dented Nokia. She hit a random number (Massie would have guessed speed dial, but the unglamorous person's phone was as prehistoric as a CD player), and held the phone up to her ears.

"Kendra," The flaxen-haired lady barked. "I've got your daughter, and am taking her to you-know-where to do you-know-what."

If Massie hadn't been so distressed, she would have thought that last sentence was something a little too inappropriate for the Clique.

"To do what?" Massie gasped, inhaling her stomach so that it became concave. She widened her eyes dramatically. "Where are you taking me, you sloven mental-institution escapee who-"

Wait a minute. Kendra?

"My mother? The woman who gave birth to me? My very own flesh and blood?" Massie asked, aghast.

"You didn't pay much attention to the first chapter, did you? And you're going to work for the International House of Pancakes." The sylphlike female replied, shutting her phone without saying goodbye. "We need new undercover agents to work as waitresses. We talked with your mother, and she whole-heartedly agreed."

Massie pondered this for a second. There was an unpretentious woman telling her she needed to spy for the International House of Pancakes (more commonly known as IHOP), where she would probably get paid minimum wage for the rest of her life.

"What will I do there?" Massie solicited. "Will I just wait on tables?"

"Of course not. You'll have to spy on rich clients and listen to people's conversations from behind the large randomly placed potted plants." The undercover agent pressed her lips together as she waited for Massie's rejoinder.

"Oh, please. I do that every day." Massie responded, crossing her arms.

"You'll need to get all the information you can. Also, we conveniently need four other girls besides you to help expose clandestine scandals. Our agency is thinking about starting a new book series. We're going to call it Gossip Girl."

"LIES AND DECIET AGAIN!" Massie screamed. Her face turned a dark umber. "BLASPHEMY! YOU BITCH!"

"We'll pay you a generously high salary." The lissome detective reasoned, glancing at the enraged alpha. "You'll frequently get to go on shopping sprees to look different for each undercover mission."

Massie didn't miss a beat.


I really do think this was the last chapter.

But if you exquisite candy hearts think this is the last you'll ever see of Minimum Wage, you have another think coming. There is going to be a sequel with lots of spies.

Unless, of course, some idiot named Sushi Bowl forgets to update for like a year.


The sequel will be fanfiction-worthy, I promise. I'll try especially hard.

I have a lot of things to tell you, you sweetly-colored teddy bear.

One is that I'd like to thank Dernier Cri for alerting me of this wonderful development. Seriously, she's the reason I wrote this chapter.