Goodness Gracious, Great Balls of Plastic
WHO: Misses Atthis and Natalia
WHAT: When there are balls, there is death.
WHEN: July 15th, High Noon
WHERE: McDonna's.
RATING: E for euphemisms and Everybody's Gay for Atthis (alternatively: Everybody's Dead for Natalia)
"A solemn thing-it was-I said-
A woman-white-to be-
And wear-if God should count me fit-
Her blameless mystery-"
"Excuse me."
"A hallowed thing-to drop a life
Into the purple well-
Too plummetless-that it return-
Eternity-until-"
"Ma'am."
"I pondered how the bliss would look-
And would it feel as big-
When I could take it in my hand-
As hovering-seen-through fog-"
"Excuse me!"
"And then-the size of this 'small' life-
The Sages-call it small-
Swelled-like Horizons-in my vest-
And I sneered-softly-" A graceful tilting of the neck, chin lifted just so. "'Small'!"
"That's... that's great and all but lady, do you want some freaking' fries with that or not?"
It was all Atthis could do to recite Dickenson mantra-like before the adversity of masculinity. Masculinity that had, prior to her order and her fervent prayer, placed his gaze upon her quite inappropriately with ink blot eyes set fast in chiseled Kouros features. He seemed confused now, endowed with a befuddlement and irritation Atthis smiled to see and as she leaned away from the counter, considering his worldly existence, her palm extended with cash therein. "No," She proclaimed proudly, "I do not wish for your fried potatoes."
She did not, in truth, wish for Miss Donna's chicken ceasar wrap either but hunger had compelled her, a near empty- tradgedy! Woe, the scandal!- wallet limited her and the unbelievably attractive face of the restaurant's charming mascot- if only there were a Donna to call her own!- inevitably forced her in. Attempting to break into the massive box within her living room had tired her, an impossible task demanding sustenance her refrigerator could simply not provide.
A Number Two it would have to be then. Water -'No no no no no, no bottle'- and no 'french fries'. But lo-! When her meal was placed before her on its neat little plastic tray, Atthis did cringe from the youth attempting to relay his blasphemous product to her. Even the cats, the multitude of them that had mysteriously manifested within the Lakewood complex, looked more appetizing than the curious creation thrust under her nose.
"Hey lady, just take your food 'aight? Lady-? Hel-"
He stumbled back when the tray was snatched curtly from his grasp. A look of contempt for his troubles, Atthis sashayed toward the back of the restaurant where the sound of gleeful children took precedence over the low, discordant rumble of that foolish man's voice.
It did nothing to mask the pair of reedy, womanly intonations and drawn to them instinctively, she glanced over to find a pair of older women perched at the edge of a large pit of plastic balls in which the children played.
"I'm telling you Maria, no good will come of flirting with that man. I've heard bad things happen to anyone who so much as looks at him oddly."
The wrap was lifted carefully, hovering just at her lips as she watched the serene figure of 'Maria' shake with mirth. "Oh come on. He's so sweet and oh my God, honey, he's Russian. That accent- Mmm."
"There's a huge Russian community in Warsaw, Mari. Isn't his secretary from that area? The little blond boy with the-"
"Hush. I just wish he'd come back already."
"He left?"
"Vacation. I know where he is though~"
"You... are such a stalker."
Atthis rolled her eyes. Typical chit chat. How she longed for- the wrap not to be nearly as disgustingly fake as it was- for a distraction of a more dramatic caliber. If only, if only, the woodpecker sighs...
WHAT: When there are balls, there is death.
WHEN: July 15th, High Noon
WHERE: McDonna's.
RATING: E for euphemisms and Everybody's Gay for Atthis (alternatively: Everybody's Dead for Natalia)
"A solemn thing-it was-I said-
A woman-white-to be-
And wear-if God should count me fit-
Her blameless mystery-"
"Excuse me."
"A hallowed thing-to drop a life
Into the purple well-
Too plummetless-that it return-
Eternity-until-"
"Ma'am."
"I pondered how the bliss would look-
And would it feel as big-
When I could take it in my hand-
As hovering-seen-through fog-"
"Excuse me!"
"And then-the size of this 'small' life-
The Sages-call it small-
Swelled-like Horizons-in my vest-
And I sneered-softly-" A graceful tilting of the neck, chin lifted just so. "'Small'!"
"That's... that's great and all but lady, do you want some freaking' fries with that or not?"
It was all Atthis could do to recite Dickenson mantra-like before the adversity of masculinity. Masculinity that had, prior to her order and her fervent prayer, placed his gaze upon her quite inappropriately with ink blot eyes set fast in chiseled Kouros features. He seemed confused now, endowed with a befuddlement and irritation Atthis smiled to see and as she leaned away from the counter, considering his worldly existence, her palm extended with cash therein. "No," She proclaimed proudly, "I do not wish for your fried potatoes."
She did not, in truth, wish for Miss Donna's chicken ceasar wrap either but hunger had compelled her, a near empty- tradgedy! Woe, the scandal!- wallet limited her and the unbelievably attractive face of the restaurant's charming mascot- if only there were a Donna to call her own!- inevitably forced her in. Attempting to break into the massive box within her living room had tired her, an impossible task demanding sustenance her refrigerator could simply not provide.
A Number Two it would have to be then. Water -'No no no no no, no bottle'- and no 'french fries'. But lo-! When her meal was placed before her on its neat little plastic tray, Atthis did cringe from the youth attempting to relay his blasphemous product to her. Even the cats, the multitude of them that had mysteriously manifested within the Lakewood complex, looked more appetizing than the curious creation thrust under her nose.
"Hey lady, just take your food 'aight? Lady-? Hel-"
He stumbled back when the tray was snatched curtly from his grasp. A look of contempt for his troubles, Atthis sashayed toward the back of the restaurant where the sound of gleeful children took precedence over the low, discordant rumble of that foolish man's voice.
It did nothing to mask the pair of reedy, womanly intonations and drawn to them instinctively, she glanced over to find a pair of older women perched at the edge of a large pit of plastic balls in which the children played.
"I'm telling you Maria, no good will come of flirting with that man. I've heard bad things happen to anyone who so much as looks at him oddly."
The wrap was lifted carefully, hovering just at her lips as she watched the serene figure of 'Maria' shake with mirth. "Oh come on. He's so sweet and oh my God, honey, he's Russian. That accent- Mmm."
"There's a huge Russian community in Warsaw, Mari. Isn't his secretary from that area? The little blond boy with the-"
"Hush. I just wish he'd come back already."
"He left?"
"Vacation. I know where he is though~"
"You... are such a stalker."
Atthis rolled her eyes. Typical chit chat. How she longed for- the wrap not to be nearly as disgustingly fake as it was- for a distraction of a more dramatic caliber. If only, if only, the woodpecker sighs...