Once upon a time, there lived an animated, vociferous and crotchety young adult named Grizabella Specklebottom. She was a pocket-sized little runt with a mouth as large as her breasts when she donned her favorite crimson push-up bra that made her look like she was made to work the street corner in stilettos with the cheapest lube on the market jammed into her shabby, sequin-studded purse which also contained some archaic, worn-down Trojans. Grizabella had a wide array of interests, you see, that she found immense amounts of pleasure and satisfaction in pursuing. Some of these interests included: gluing synthetic weave to her hair as speedily and hastily as an escaping convict scales a barbed wire, electric fence, bellowing in a voice that is as clamorous as humanely possible, and last but certainly not least, roasting her stubby little self like a rotisserie chicken in a tanning bed three times a day. She also took it upon herself to take frequent orange showers. Let's just say she was trying REAL hard to be the newest "Jersey Shore" cast member. Snooki had nothing on her, y'alls!
"You look like a cheap slut," Grizabella's friend Flo unabashedly blurted out to her one day while they were guzzling down wine glasses full of Grey Goose.
"Awww thanks sweetheart! You're too kind!" Grizabella beamed at her friend and fondled her arm gawkily for a few seconds.
"Yes, I know. Now all you need are your assless chaps and you'll be good to go! Men all over town will be waving Washingtons at you baby doll!"
"I wouldn't doubt it! I am the Jennifer Lopez of the rural Midwest...that's what ALL my clients tell me!"
"Gee wilikers! Well, I'd say they are sure as hell spot on!"
"Don't I know it," Grizabella slurred, her eyebrows swirling in her sockets like golf balls in a pond. She pushed her breasts up more and reached for her hairbrush.
"What? You have a client tonight or something?" Flo queried, raising a skeptical eyebrow as she stuck her tongue all the way down her highball to slurp up the few remaining droplets of Goose that lingered at the bottom.
"NO I GOT A DATE CUNT!" Grizabella barked, a deep shade of scarlet creeping up her apricot-colored, flakey face.
"Ooh wee! Whose it with?" Flo demanded, her eyes widening. She stomped her feet dramatically on the ground as her arms flailed at her sides like a fish out of water.
"The name's Bubba Gimp. Hottest trucker in all the land! And he's an underground rapper in his spare time too!" Grizabella boasted.
"In fact, I think HE'S THE ONE!"
TO BE CONTINUED.
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