A chorus of restaurant servers identically dressed and robotically chanting banal lines, ie: “Can I take your order, Sir?” and “Thank you. Have a nice day.” Programmed movements and intricate patterns based on Busby Berkeley film choreography. Dominatrix Waitrix appears: “Now give me my fucking tip.” The Dispatcher’s Headquarters: The center of a vast surveillance network and restaurant worker rescue service with live video feeds of disgruntled servers. At the switchboard sits The Dispatcher - an alluring and commanding pimp-daddy in furs. Dominatrix Waitrix is bold and cunning and clad in leather. She works for The Dispatcher who created her in his image. They flirt and flatter, banter and bicker. The Dispatcher sends Dominatrix Waitrix out on missions: to clone herself as Server Clients, to take over their miserable jobs long enough for them to have a break while still receiving tips and paychecks for the hours worked by Dominatrix Waitrix. This is a free service. We never learn The Dispatcher’s motivations. We do, however, learn the motives of Dominatrix Waitrix. Dominatrix Waitrix exists as a human clone. She is amorphous, multi-gendered, and immortal. The only human quality she owns is an extremely powerful libido. She chooses the bodies of vulnerable servers and preys on their puppet-like customers. Her only concern is to give and receive pleasure and pain. One bold and buxom waitress wishes to keep Dominatrix Waitrix under her spiked heel. Dominatrix Waitrix fancies the red-headed mortal, but in the end, who will hold the whip and who will wear the handcuffs?