Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Trying something different

So the first version of Position Vacant sucked, right?
But I really want to attempt something a little more sarcastically whitty, something a little more...like me, I guess. So I am trying my hand at another short story about a Miss Priss, who has a first of a lifetime one night stand, and instead of being left with a hickey gets a love-bite of the Were-folk kind.
Of course she doesn't know that yet - despite the legions of stray dogs following her around.

So how does this catch you?

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“Come on, Shaun, let me in!” Pearl banged harder on her girlfriends front door. “Wake up you lazy cow and let me in before they eat me…” She turned around to look at the yard full of adoring canines. “…or something…”

She refused to look down to find out if it was something more than slobber on her shoe. Too many of the dogs looked too happy by far. La la la laaaa…don’t think about it, Pearl, just don’t think about it.

“God damn it, Shaun, Let. Me. In!” The door swung open and a short, petite sprite like creature stood in the doorway. Black as coal hair in disarray and raccoon eyes from smearing last nights eye makeup around with her fist as she tried to wake up.

“All right all right all ready. Keep your pants on.”

“Too bloody late for that now, isn’t it.” She shouldered her way past her kooky best friend and into the hallway, shaking off an eager paw so she could cross the threshold. “Hurry up, shut the door!”

Shaun had managed to clear her vision up enough to take in her front lawn. “Hey…what’s with all the dogs?” She took a closer look at Pearls disheveled state and gasped. “What the hell happened to you?”

Usually primly proper and schoolmarm like, she dressed in skirts, blouses and her namesake pearls. But today she had on a ratty old pair of jeans, a T-shirt on backwards, and her jacket was on inside out. Then Shaun spied the big hickey just down from her neck and tried very hard not to giggle. Going so far as to stuff her little fist in her little mouth; but she couldn’t contain her very big roar of laughter.

“Ohmigod! Miss. Prissy got laid last night!”

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Or is it just the farmers daughter in me that thinks this is funny?

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