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</div>She had been prepared to hate the woman at sight.<i>That cunt is gonna call them and kick me out</i>, thought Therese Marie Bauer, as she glowered at the woman who opened the door. Instead she had to hide her astonishment and awe and her amusement when that old broad made fun of the P.O. She snuffled back a snort and pretended that she was clearing her throat.<br/><br/>"This is Therese Marie Bauer. She will be serving her sentence, a rather mild one - I might add - four hours a week with you for a period of two months. Here is a handy list of possible tasks you might give her, including a list of tasks which you may not." The woman handed the older woman a folder and droned on, the words so routine that she was barely conscious of them. "You are required to call us every week to confirm whether the required hours have been filled, whether the assigned chores were done, whether there was any trouble with the probationer." At this she glared at Therese who returned her look darkly.<i>Fuck you, you</i><i>bitch, and fuck you too, you dried up old cunt</i>, she thought.<br/><br/>"Therese will begin  today with the first of her four hours a week," said Leibenrood looking around her. "I hope you have taken the standard precautions we sent to you earlier, and..." she shuffled around in her briefcase, "I'll need your signatures, here... here, and" she was shuffling through more papers and here!" She added almost triumphantly. After the papers were signed she stood up and looked at Therese, "Young lady, one slip up and you'll be locked up and since you are almost eighteen, it won't be juvie. I recommend you get your life back on track." At this Therese no longer could hold  back her laughter. Peals of laughter echoed through the lovely, but slightly dusty home.<br/><br/>"Back on track!" She giggled and dissolved again "Bitch my life has never been on track. I wouldn't know what to do with a track." She snorted derisively and stood up and turned away pretending to look at the bookshelves. She was done with this charade.<i>Fucking done!</i><br/><br/>Leibenrood, scowled but didn't say anything, in her mind this young girl was on the fast track to prison anyway, this was just a formality foisted on them by a liberal, bleeding heart judge. The old biddy and the P.O. went to the front door, leaving Therese to her own devices. She walked to the display behind the drum kit looking at the disks on the wall, the framed bills, and magazine cut outs. Images of five women looked out from them. Some clearly staged, some more candid. An exhausted woman sitting behind a trailer and smoking a blunt, a bottle of beer in one hand, her mascara smudged, blouse slightly open, a breast partly visible. Another one showed what looked like her own private old hag, staring down some tosser who must have set her off somehow. Therese looked at it a long time, who was this woman and how far did she have to be pushed before she'd let Therese do whatever she wanted... She had no plans to become this woman's personal house slave. She heard the crutches behind her and turned around.