Hi there.
My name is Betty. This shouldn’t surprise you, because in the year that I was born everyone on the damn planet named their child Betty. This was a disappointing development, and nothing hacks away at your self-esteem like being christened with an uninspired moniker shared by half of your entire high-school graduating class. On top of that, my parents named all my brothers and sisters after people in the Bible. But I’ve never heard of a Betty in the Bible, have you? So this means my parents took one look at me and instantly decided that I was not going to Heaven. Great.
Anyway, I was hired for this advertising campaign because one of the producers thought I was perfect for portraying a secretary who is overjoyed at getting to use this fancy new typewriter. I don’t know where he got that idea. I’ve never used a typewriter in my life. (What’s the point? I’m apparently destined for Hell.) And as you can see, there are no words on the prop piece of paper jammed into this thing, and there’s nothing scribbled on the steno pad that could possibly inspire me to type. It’s completely unrealistic, just like the expectations I had for this perm when I walked into the beauty shop over on Maple Drive.
Still, I suppose I should be happy to have this gig. I don’t have to do much other than hold my hands in a certain way and smile like I’m having a secret orgasm. And I’m one of the few people who can pull off a Peter Pan collar without looking insipid. I guess I should just keep smiling for the camera, even though it is humiliating and psychologically-damaging.
Sounds of a door opening and someone entering the room.
Someone: “What are you doing sitting at my typewriter? You should be over on the couch.”
Betty: “Oh. Well, I was just posing for some publicity shots, Dr. Freud.”
Freud: “Publicity shots? There’s no one else here, Lizzie.”
Betty maybe Lizzie: “Who the hell is Lizzie?”
Freud: “That would be you, my delusional little pet. I just explained this to you, once again, before I stepped outside for a cigar that was just a cigar. It’s really getting tiresome how you can’t stick to the agenda and remember who you are, Miss Borden. Now get back on that couch and let’s talk about the significance of the axe. I have a thesis due on Monday.”
Originally published in “Crusty Pie” on 04/15/16 and “Bonnywood Manor” on 07/29/16. Slight changes made. And yes, I realize the tail end of the tale doesn’t make any sense for those of you who don’t know the story of Lizzie Borden. But when the anarchic twist popped into my head, I just couldn’t ignore it. Hopefully you still had fun until things went in an unexpected direction, just like Lizzie’s parents…
Categories: Past Imperfect
Bonnywood Manor 
Giving the old Lizzie Borden tale a bloody good whack? (Give Lizzie a problem, she’ll cut right through it.)
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Bad things can happen when you break the Silence is Golden rule, eh? Sometimes it’s better to just sip your tea and try to not get on anyone’s nerves, especially if there is a hardware store nearby…
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Enjoyed your post a lot. 😂😂😂
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Thank you! Say, do you have any good tips for getting blood stains out of a hoop-skirt?… 😉
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You got me there. None I am afraid!!!
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A mom and pop hardware store is OK, the worry is rocking up to the Husqvarna shop…
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Love the ending! Clever twist :O) xx
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We both love those twisty endings, don’t we?
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For sure, there’s something about a good twist 😉 x
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Betty/Lizzie – I once made a cake shaped like my parents. Then they ate it. What do you think that means?
Freud – Why would you want your parents to eat themselves?
B/L – Because then I wouldn’t have to axe them?
😉
Great post – loved it. 😀
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Freud – Let’s talk more about the symbolism of expressing your emotions through baked goods.
B/L – Do you seriously think it’s a good idea to question me about ANYTHING?
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Hahaha. My mother-in-law was called Betty. When I was having children, she begged us not to name any daughters Betty. We complied.
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My grandmother’s name was Betty Jean, my best friend’s mother is named Betty, and Betty White appears to me in the form of “Golden Girls” reruns every night. I’m surrounded by Bettys. Kudos to you for breaking the trend… 😉
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I am one of those who enjoyed and then scratched their heads at the ending, so much so I scrolled back up to the picture to see if I had missed the axe in it somewhere. Nope.
Then I searched and read the Wiki about it all.
Blimey.
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Right? Lizzie don’t play. You either make her happy or you die, which seems to be the theme music for many world leaders these days…
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I’m very familiar with miss Lizzie. Wish I could find that damn axe! LOL
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I’ve got one you could borrow as long as you don’t ask why I have it… 😉
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I’ve got hatchets! Wanna trade? No questions asked…none answered. 😆
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Freud could have used a few whacks himself…..would have saved a lot of people a lot of money and a lot of talk about stupid stuff. 🙂
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Are you really talking about Freud or about certain news organizations… 😉
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Lizzie Borden took an axe
and gave her parents 40 whacks…
we had some horrible little jingles going around when I was a tot, and that’s all I can remember of that particular one. I remember Elizabeth Montgomery playing Lizzie Borden in a film I saw once. The writer deftly explained how come, if Lizzie B. HAD given her parents 40 whacks, there was no blood on her or her clothing. I guess that little point mystified the police at the time and people for decades afterward.
And sometimes it’s best to keep sharp pointy things out of the hands of people named “Betty”.
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Ah yes, the Lizzie Borden ditty.
I remember being in the younger years of elementary school, wherein some of the girls would jump rope to that ditty during recess, the kind of rope-jumping where two participants would hold the ends of the rope and whirl it in a circular motion whilst one to three girls would stand in the midst, popcorn-bouncing and hollering rhymes. One of their fave expulsions was the Lizzie Ditty.
Said Popcorn Gals, of course, had no idea of the history behind their chanting. I so VERY much wanted to let the little urchins know that they were celebrating grisly matricide and patricide, concepts which should not be revered in three-part harmony. But I was also sage enough to realize that if I stupidly chose to make this a teaching moment, my intentions would backfire and it would be ME sent to the principal’s office and possibly juvenile detention. So I withheld my urges and let the ignorant people bounce ignorantly and filed my musings away in my mind for eventual release decades later, scribbling away at midnight in a home far away from what used to be my house…
And yes, I’ve already saved this comment to my “keeper” file, because you always inspire me…
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Actually it was “gave her MOTHER 40 whacks….
and when she saw what she had done
She gave her father 41…….
Twisted little children we were…
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Whenever kids murder their folks I tend to lean toward empathy for the kiddos so poor Lizzie wants to be Betty, I say let it be. LOL
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I’m on the same page with you. SOMEthing made Lizzie/Betty snap, and since they didn’t have violent video games back then, chances are the parents didn’t win any awards for parenting…
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