He must have been sniffing her putrid, vinegar smelling bare toes for fifteen
minutes, while Miranda rubbed her toes over his face as much as possible,
before she spoke again. "You know," she said, "I don't trust you. You'll kick and
scream he minute I let you out and you'll try to get me fired, won't you." Mike
was desperate to defend his honesty, though he probably would have kicked
and screamed and tried to get her fired.

"Well, I'm going to make sure this doesn't blow up in my face, " she added.
"Sorry Mike," and she slipped her feet from the boots. "I'll be back," she
exclaimed. Debbie, one of the waitresses from the morning shift took advantage
of Miranda's departure to sample the machine herself; and before long, a warm
pair sock foot pressed against his nose; the scent was bearable, but it still
angered him that these women should feel free to rub their feet in his face.

And then Mike could hear the sharp, staccato voices of angry women enter
the room. "I was scared. I didn't know what to do," said Miranda, pretending to
be distressed. "But I'm sure he's been watching everyone through the peephole."