The excited starlets study the publicity shot, and dissatisfaction ensues…
Dorothy, left: “Why does my head seem to be photo-shopped before Photo Shop was invented? I look like a jacked-up Pez dispenser. And this gown does absolutely nothing for my hope chest. I put a lot of money into that chest and you’d think somebody would have the decency to highlight my investment. At least someone took the time to put a pretty bow on my right foot, making mine the prettiest slipper. I can work with that.” [Jiggles foot and gazes at it adoringly.]
Joan, middle: “Girl, please. My issues are much bigger than yours, and they always will be. My left hand looks bigger than Anita’s head, which will do nothing to quell the rumors that my actual name is John. And my right hand looks like it belongs in a Bela Lugosi movie, as if I could slice off your arm with a flick of the wrist. By the way, don’t forget I have the ability to do just that, should you ever decide to go for the same part that I have my heavily-eyebrowed eye on.” [Smiles triumphantly and glances around the room to see if there are any children she can adopt for publicity purposes.]
Anita, right: “Jeepers, you gals are very self-centered and meanly ambitious. And since there’s not room for three gals like that in this movie, it’s time for me to trump this mess. I’ve been sleeping with the producer. He paid the photographer to screw up this shot for both of you. And I’m now getting top billing in the movie and neither of you has more than thirty-seven seconds of screen time.” [Attempts to drop the mic in a defiant manner, then realizes there is no mic handy since it’s on a boom over her head and she doesn’t have union approval to touch such a thing.]
Dorothy: “Does this mean I don’t get to wear the prettiest slipper anymore? We’ve become quite close.”
Joan: “Does this mean I can stop sleeping with the producer? He certainly doesn’t know how to light my campfire. I get bored as soon as I hear the doorbell ring.”
Anita: “I don’t care what either of you do as long as you stay behind me on the red carpet.”
Categories: Past Imperfect
Bonnywood Manor 
Great story! Lol. I read your fb ststus a few minutes ago.. about sleeping with the produce, and i thought, well, those bananas and canteloupes can be pretty sexy! But sleeping with the producer really does make more sense here. 🙂
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I was seriously on the verge of hitting the “Post” button, when an inner voice said “hey, maybe you should run through this one again”. (This voice is quite familiar, as I usually reread every potential post 46,007 times before I click.) When I finally noticed the missing “r”, I couldn’t help but share that mess on Facebook. (And yes, bananas and cantaloupes can be quite enticing, especially if it’s been a spell since someone drew water from the well. Ahem.)
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Okay, so I reread the line as produce, and must say, it does much for the imagination. I think you should switch it back.
Also, you should consider dubbing a Veggie Tales clip as soft-porn. It’ll be huge, Brian. HUGE.
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Your mind went THERE? Hmm. No wonder I like you… 😉
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Right now, my hair looks as if I could be in that photo. All I need are the Theda Bara eyes and we will be right on point. The hope chest! I haven’t heard that term in a LONG time, Brian. This particular Past Imperfect had me giggling throughout the entire story. The girl on the right has that look like she has been sleeping with the producer. The casting couch twit. Great work!
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And really, with the way my mind works, I could see us doing a joint writing piece, wherein you portray “Theda Bara’s Eyes” and I take on the role of “Lackluster Doorbell Ringer and Campfire Starter”. We could have loads of fun with that. Or not. 😉
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Oh, that would be something. I wonder if the world would be ready for that collaboration?
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If the world isn’t ready, we’ll force the agenda. So say us all. Or at least the two of us…
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Sounds like a plan, lol.
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And then the three girls got into a cat fight.
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With hair-pulling and ruby-red nails slashing through the air…
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You’re so right about the Bela Lugosi hand. Ha ha ha.
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I couldn’t help it…
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Another good laugh over my way – thanks Brian! 🙂
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I’m always happy to serve up a slice of humor pie and a good cup of coffee… 😉
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I want that middle dress. Can you have a word with costume and arrange it for me?:-)
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I have my people working on it as I type this… 😉
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Thank you. 🙂
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And another afternoon brightened courtesy of your wonderful posting, Brian, my thanks 🙂
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My pleasure, Sir Arthur Ignatius Conan Doyle…
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At least those stars of the 20s (or 19 oughts) had their 15 minutes BEFORE the invention of the ‘cone’ bra. I was watching an old TV serial (circa 1942-1950 something) and the female half of the team came out of her room, dressed to ‘go out’. Her um, er, ENHANCEMENTS had been molded into some sort of cone. Each pointed in a different direction and were distracting as hell. She almost put out the eyes of several cast members when she did a twirl. It was horrifying. No wonder ‘we’ (women in the USA at any rate) burnt our bras in the 60s. We were terrified of being named in a lawsuit….
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You had me rolling with this. (I will fall asleep to the vision of a cone-tipped whirling dervish.) Clearly, the fashion industry lost its mind with that traffic cone mess. (And perhaps never recovered.)
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Oh, and it should be noted that I didn’t have any bra to burn in the 60s…I was two.
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I didn’t burn my bra, either! Mainly because I wasn’t allowed to play with matches after I nearly burned down our subdivision. (Long story.)
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Theresa May and Nicola Sturgeon discuss Hard/Soft Brexit. Melania Trump says kick up your heels and sue the Daily Mail (Male).
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Trump circles the debate stage and glares angrily at all the Hillarys who dare to challenge him…
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😀
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Middle: “None of this fair. At all. I was told to be generous with myself and good things would come to me, and now look at me. I donated my boobs AND my left leg and the whore gets the gig? Well, I’m done. Hollywood sounds just like our political system to me.”
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Two seconds later, Middle was back. After all, there were bills to pay…
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