Tonight’s line dancing instructor, Eric the Techno Viking and Tonight’s dance. The Runaway Thriller.
The stereo in the middle of the dancefloor says, “Our niggah gone. MJ. Thump Thump! Our niggah gone. M. J. Thump Thump!
The announcer shouts, “Okay ladies, you know the rules.
You know the point value system
Each zombie has icky sticky zombie goo on their paws, color coded paint markers on their hands.
CYOA, guard the Punani,don’t let them touch yo hair, and above all Protect the Bouncy Castle!
Meet Ms Palimpsest Vellocet, Senior Account Executive in Charge of New Authors. The subject and narrator of this episode stares out the window of her ninth floor corner office, and sees nothing. Not even the cloud of bubbles blowing past. Only angry dark red. Turns and says with a voice like Bob Newhart, “Hold on, I’m texting. P Vellocet to PenMan: WTF R U? and half assed listening to Judy, my new Admin. Pissed, ‘cause it’s Monday. I gotta work. And…
Preface Conjuring Truly Scrumptious & The Imagined Nation is my most selfish act, so far. She is the eye of my storm, the safest place in the path of me, […]
Mrs. Shadetree is saying, “Your garden? Butterfly. I packed you a lunch. That’s not sorrowful anger. You’re feeling, parental annoyance. What’s wrong? Wait! I’m early. What’s wrong. Time displacement. You gotta go. Cassie’s on the way. I packed you a lunch.”
The rotary phone on the kitchen wall rings, she answers, “Shadetrees’. Good morning!
Entering the colonnade where I’m supposed to meet Miranda, I stepped through a kaleidoscope of butterflies then a veil of bubbles, followed by another angry look alike woman swinging, fanning and yapping as she stomps by me. “Fuck you flowers! Take that!”
I threw my brand new diamond encrusted iced coffee tumbler and cracked it on his big knotty head.
