Gary: “Why are we touching noses? Do I even know you? Are you from one of those countries where no one understands personal space?”
Barbara: “I just wanted to thank you for saving me when I was trapped in that evil garbage disposal. My dress is in tatters, but it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to say such a thing. I grew up on a farm, and what with all the threshing machines and lusty ranch hands, my couture rarely lasted the evening.”
Gary: “Well, your screams from the kitchen were getting on my nerves. I had to do something or I would never get to the next level on Candy Crush. By the way, what the hell were you doing in my sink? Are you from one of those countries where any bidet will do in a pinch?”
Barbara: “Let’s not dwell on why I had to hoist my hooter. Or how I managed to flip a switch with my ass. Some things are better left unspoken. But I do have to admit, the whirring blades made me a tad horny. Aren’t you the least bit inspired by something that can grind you into butter? I know I am.”
Gary: “It’s 1941. We aren’t allowed to be horny in America at this time. We have to wait for J. Edgar Hoover to pass away.”
Barbara: “Most people won’t get that inside joke, so we’re losing the audience with that mess, but I’ll play along. I bet he’d like to wear my dress. And be rescued by you.”
Gary: “Maybe you don’t understand that none of this is making me want to wet my whistle.”
Barbara: “That’s okay. Did I mention that I grew up on a farm? I’m used to it taking a long time before we can harvest the crops. And even then, you still might have to shuck the corn before it’s ready.”
Gary: “That’s a rather graphic and twisted image.”
Barbara: “Welcome to Bonnywood.”
Gary: “Is that the name of your hooter?”
Barbara: “Maybe. Why don’t you pour me some wine so we can find out?”
Gary: “I never had to work this hard in a scene before, even when I won an Oscar.”
Barbara: “At least you got one. I’m still trying.”
Originally published in “Crusty Pie” on 04/06/15. Considerably revised for this post. My apologies to the farmers and Academy members and bidets of America. Would you like some butter with that?
Categories: Past Imperfect
Brilliant! :O)
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Thank you!
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You have to watch out for those farm girls.
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Never take your eyes off of them… 😉
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Gary: Stop smelling me. You’re creeping me out.
Barb: I can’t help it! You smell like spice. Really old, ancient spice.
Gary: Are you telling me I need a shower?
Barb: Nope. Just that some day, two people dressed like us will be lost in Harry Potter’s school and yelling at each other about old spice. I know. I can see these things.
Gary: Who’s Harry Potter?
Loved this post. 😀
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Now THAT’s the spirit of Bonnywood. Mess with time, twist the plot, throw in some absurdity, and hope that people forgive you if you go too far… 😉
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Gary: Uh, have we been introduced? I mean I know I’m sitting on a furry rug with you and all, but really? I didn’t initiate anything I SWEAR!
Barb: Oh but honey you DID, initiate something. Maybe you didn’t realize — but the combination of tall, dark, handsome and looking sweet in a tux is simply catnip to some pussies (get your mind out of the gutter people..I’m referring to CATS – EMBC)
Gary: Well honey… YOU need a breath mint. Badly. Care for an Altoid? They’re incredibly strong..
Barb: What? Well how insulting. Maybe your combo is a tad off…condescension is never appealing. And the banana in your pocket? Appears to be one of the small kind…nothing to get excited over. I’m used to plantains in my diet thanks.
Gary: My banana is plenty big enough…see I’m used to be out on the plains with a horse for company and not much else.
Barb: Well who stuffed you in that suit and set you among the pigeons that way? You don’t even recognize foreplay when it’s offered to you. This ersatz fur rug is beginning to itch by the way…and if there’s no frolicking to be done, I’m leaving. You sure you won’t ..
Gary: I’m very sure. The look I gave you when you shoved your big hooter in my face should have been your first clue. And tatters? Darling. So last century….
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See? Once you start poking under sacred rocks, lots of interesting things might come running out. Isn’t it fun?
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Oh my sweet lord, I may never sleep again for fear of dreaming of my lady garden being snatched in the garbage disposal (not that I actually use the kitchen sink as a bidet, you understand …. well hardly ever 😉 )
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Oh, you’ll sleep just fine. As long as you continue doing your nightly, slightly-Wiccan chant to Voluptia, Goddess of the Lady Garden, no harm can befell you…
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Most interesting role I’ve ever seen Gary play. 😉
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This is just a bit of off-Broadway workshopping that he did for charity…
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