"But really, Bartholomew" laughed Lady Zinnia with her characteristic
throaty chuckle, "You can't be serious! Lady Thanninger, with that
dashing young... oh, no, it can't be. He's simply too common
for someone of her station!""Oh but yes, my dear Zinnia, it is true!" said Bartholomew with a mischievous sparkle in his heavy-lidded black eyes. "When I was going to the stables to fetch my horse, Lightning, I heard noises in the hay loft. When I went to investigate, I saw them with my own two eyes!! It is astonishing what a couple can accomplish with a good English saddle and a riding crop!" Bartholomew leaned in conspiratorily, arching an eyebrow. "Whatever will Lord Thanninger say when he finds out?"
"But Bartholomew!" Lady Zinnia exclaimed, clasping her hands to her heaving bosom, "If his lordship ever discovered her infidelity, he would most certainly turn her out into the streets! And what would become of the delicate creature when exposed to the harsh elements of an English winter? Oh no my dearest Bartholomew, Lord Thanninger must never know."
"But why, dear lady, why?? With Cammelia out of the way, you stand to inherit his lordship's millions. And when you do, we can be together at last, my dearest love!" Bartholomew clutched Zinnia to his massive chest, his coal black eyes flashing, his head with its raven locks tossed back defiantly.
Zinnia pressed herself closer, feeling his muscualr torso straining against the thin material of his waistcoat. "Yes I know my darling, but we cannot risk Cammelia losing her position in that house." She suddenly pulled away from Bartholomew, and strode over to the window, where the moonlight played in her golden hair and set off her profile in a delicate cameo. "Besides," she said, turning suddenly to face him, her eyes narrowing, "I have something much more intriguing in mind for us, my love. And our dear, dear Cammelia."
The author comments, " Yes Yes I know...DH Lawrence is spinning in his grave :)"
I had seen broads like Gia Gondola before - Miami's full of 'em. But
when a broad constructed of nothing but legs, attitude and a wide-brimmed
hat stalks into your office unannounced and drops a baby alligator on
your desk, you sit up and take notice."Please explain THIS," she said, her Carol Channing-like rasp only adding to her sex appeal. She oozed chilly refinement, from her crimson pumps to her pouty lips. I, of course,maintained my cool. "It's a alligator," I said, leaning towards her, allowing her to inhale my deadly masculine scent. Few women could resist. She must have been one of the few "AN alligator," she said haughtily, reminding me of Miss Nelson, my third grade English teacher. I had had a crush on Miss Nelson, but Miss Nelson had never worn fishnet stockings. I raised my devilishly delicious masculine eyebrows. "Yes," I said, lowering my voice an octave for each word, "An alligator. I know." Then I made my move. She would be like very sexy putty in my handsome brown hands. "So...you single?"
The dame threw me one last sultry look over her shoulder before the door slammed after her. She had left the alligator on my desk, and it was now chewing at the corners of my "Penthouse." A deliberate move, leaving the alligator. Teasing me. But she'd be back, I knew. They always came back.
The author comments, "My turn to tell a tale from the man's perspective. Ha!"
Beverly, huddled under the bleachers, sniffed back a tear. Kicked off the
cheerleading squad! All of her mother's dreams for her, dashed! How could she
even go home now?
Beverly knew she had to go home and face the music, though. After all of the practice that her mother and herself went
through; it was a complete waste. Beverly didn't even want to join the cheerleading squad, because she knew it was just a club for airheads. But her mother kept on pushing her to do it. Come to think of if, this was all her mother's idea. Just because her mom was captain of the cheerleading squad back in her day didn't mean she had to be. She felt complete anger and hatred toward her mother now. There was only one thing that she wanted to do now. Kill her mother.
Beverly arrived home and told her mother, Jane, the bad news.
"Will you ever amount to anything?!" Jane screamed at Beverly, with a wild look in her eyes.
"I'm sorry!" She cried out to her mom.
"Well sorry isn't good enough!" Jane replied.
Instead of going to her room and crying, Beverly went though the foyer and into the kitchen. She picked up the biggest knife she could find and headed back into the grand room, where her mother was still fuming about the cheerleading loss. "Oh mother, I've got your squad right here!"
As Beverly buried the knife into her mother's back, she felt as if a giant weight had been lifted.
For 17 years, Beverly had to put up with all of her mother's demands, but that was no more.
"Gimmie a D!" Beverly shouted, over Jane's limp body. "Gimmie an I! Gimmie and E! What does that spell? DIE! Ha! Ha! Ha!"
The author comments, "I know, I know. This was a WAY cheezy story, but I put just about 2 minutes of thought into it!"
Toast Point loves the "Gimme a D" part.
The jeep roared to life and she paused to check herself in the mirror. the swelling around her eye had gone down enough she decided... they'd let her into the game again. She smiled as she gunned the engine. it was a mischievous and expectant grin of triumph. She reached out and cranked the radio up as she roared out of the driveway and into the velvety secretiveness of the night.
The author comments, "please feel free to add to this...thanx"
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