After Michelle stormed off the set, Trixie and Katya
exchanged a long, nervous glance. The sound of Michelle's heels clicking down the hallway was like a countdown to a disaster, and when she disappeared, it felt like the weight of the universe had lifted off their shoulders—until they heard it.
A faint moaning from RuPaul's dressing room.
Trixie froze, her eyes wide. "Did you hear that?"
"Yeah," Katya said, tilting her head. "It's like... a ghostly sound. Like, RuPaul, but make it ASMR."
"I swear, if she's haunting us after death—" Trixie started, but then the moaning cut off abruptly.
"Wait a second," Katya muttered, putting a finger to her lips. "That wasn't a ghost. That sounded like... a notification ping?"
Trixie furrowed her brows. "A notification?"
The two queens tiptoed toward Ru's dressing room, cautiously peeking through the slightly ajar door. Sure enough, the sound was coming from Ru's phone, sitting on the vanity. On the screen, the message read: "Michelle Visage: Ready to go again, darling?"
Trixie blinked. "Wait a minute. This is weird."
Katya squinted at the phone, skimming and skamming through all of their past texts. "You're telling me... Michelle and Ru—?"
"Are having a full-on relationship behind the scenes?" Trixie finished, her voice a mix of disbelief and curiosity. "I knew they had chemistry, but not... like this."
Katya snatched the phone. "They've been hooking up every day on set? And wait—what's this? Ru's hosting the fracking union meeting tonight?"
Trixie gasped. "Oh my God. Of course! The fracking! We're not the only ones with a secret underground agenda!"
"Fracking? Like... oil? What is this, a X files plotline?!" Katya frowned.
"That's how she has all those wigs," Trixie said matter-of-factly. "The fracking gives her the power to create endless quantities of perfect hair. Don't you see?"
Katya blinked, clearly not buying it, but Trixie was already charging toward the door.
"We need a plan," Trixie said. "We have to replace Ru for the meeting, or it'll be over for us. It's fracking night, Katya—this is bigger than we thought."
Katya nodded, already in action. "Okay. Let's get a fake Ru, stat."
A few blocks down from the set, Trixie and Katya scoured the street, on the lookout for the perfect Ru lookalike. They passed a Starbucks, a hot dog stand, and a questionable tattoo parlor before finally landing outside a tanning salon.
"Perfect!" Katya shouted, pointing at a man standing outside, bronzed and glistening like a golden turkey. He was dressed in a leather jacket, which, frankly, screamed Ru Paul if you squinted hard enough.
"Do you think he's actually high, or is it just the tan?" Trixie asked, eyeing the guy suspiciously.
"Both, I'm pretty sure," Katya said, marching up to him. "Hey, you look almost like RuPaul. You want to make a few hundred bucks?"
The man turned, blinking slowly, eyes half-lidded and heavily tinted by whatever self-tanner disaster he was currently rocking.
"Make money?" he slurred. "Yeah, sure... what do I gotta do?"
"Just come with us," Trixie said. "You're gonna help us save RuPaul's legacy. And possibly your skin."
The three of them—Trixie, Katya, and the questionable tan man—crammed into an Uber, heading toward the fracking union event. Their RuPaul was barely coherent, giggling in the backseat, and the two queens could only pray he would stay together long enough to pull off the biggest heist of their careers.
But as they entered the event, things started to go wrong.
It started raining like pussies and bitches.
Trixie looked nervously at the man beside her. "Katya, we're in trouble."
"I know," Katya said, glancing at the fake Ru's melting face. "Why does it always rain when things go wrong? Like, I swear the weather is in on this."
The fake Ru's tan started dripping, leaving a trail of orange streaks on the car seat and down his face. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, his voice cracking. "I really thought this would be a more permanent look..."
Trixie could feel the disaster unfolding. "If we get caught, we're going to jail for sure. And by jail, I mean—fracking jail. And no one wants to go there."
They rushed out of the car and into the building, but it was already too late. The fake Ru's tan had completely washed off, leaving him looking like a sunburned skeleton.
"Abort! Abort!" Katya screamed. "We're getting out of here!"
That evening, Trixie and Katya lay on the bed in their hotel room, staring blankly at the TV screen.
"BREAKING NEWS: RuPaul Missing," the announcer declared. "The iconic drag queen and host of RuPaul's Drag Race has been reported missing after last being seen at a private fracking union event late last night. Authorities are still investigating."
Trixie blinked, mouth agape. "We did it. We actually did it. RuPaul is missing, and no one knows where she is!"
Katya grinned. "And we still have our wigs. So, mission accomplished?"
Trixie collapsed onto the bed. "I think we may have just gotten away with murder... and fracking."
