Reanna Rimshaw sat on a bench in Central park, soaking her bunions in a terrapin pie. Although edible, the little turtle morsels held magical medicinal powers. She came to the park for this purpose because her tiny apartment needed extensive airing after baking the pie, and a homeless man who lived in the hedge appreciated the daily gift of Reanna's pie. Used, of course, but delicious nonetheless.

Reanna removed her foot from the steaming concoction and was about to deposit her "gift" beside the galleycat's lair when she was accosted by a group of promenading poodles, barely restrained by a gorgeous woman in a Bat Segundo tee shirt and red patent leather stilettos.

"Get the fuck out of my way, nitwit."

Could it really be that will of the wisp, the indomitable Miss Snark?

While trying to untangle herself from the mess of poodles, Reanna gushed, "Oh, I read your blog every day, ma'am. You're quite famous."

Miss Snark stopped and glared at Reanna.

"What in the hell kind of shoes are those?"

"Oh," Reanna said, suddenly self-conscious to be next to her idol. "They're my mother's."

"Your mother wears Army boots?"

"Yes, well, not any more. She's dead."

Miss Snark tugged on the lead that held the pack of poodles and began to walk away.

"Wait!" Reanna shouted, limping after her. "I'm a writer. Will you look at this, please?"

"Fuck off and die."

"Please, Miss Snark! I would mail it to you, but I have no money for postage and I would probably muddle my query letter anyway and I know how much you hate that. Please, it's only one page, double spaced in a nice Times New Roman font."

"Well," Miss Snark said, taking the paper from Reanna and handing her the poodle's lead. "I guess I could look. I always have been a sucker for proper formatting."

Miss Snark sat down and glanced over the page. When she finished reading, she smiled.

"Can you drop everything and give me ten ... books?"


"Really. This is good. This is roar of the greasepaint, smell of the crowd good. We're gonna get rich, lady, and then I won't have to fucking walk poodles anymore."

If Miss Snark recovers from being portrayed as Faye Dunaway on speed she might grow to like this.

Scoring to come


Anonymous said...

This one made me laugh, no small feat considering how my day is going.

J. Carson Black said...

I LOVED this one!

the green ray said...

This made me laugh out loud, a mighty good feat on the kind of day it's been so far! (I wish I could do mine over; I'm afraid I'm not going to win this contest.)

Anonymous said...

I laughed out loud before I got to Miss Snark's comment.

Anonymous said...

haha I like this one, it's got a certain charm.

Cheryll said...

"Ooooo-ooooh," she gurgled. "Deep fantasy!"

Evan said...

It's all about the funny ;).


Anonymous said...

This is among my favorites so far!!!

Sal said...

I liked this one, except for the mental picture of the homeless man who lives in the hedge and waits to eat the terrapin pie that's been used as a foot soak.

Used, of course, but delicious nonetheless.

Oh. My.

Please tell me the writer had a mind fart and meant a homeless cat who lived in the hedge?

McKoala said...

ooh, Miss Snark, such language.