Note: This was originally posted on April Fool’s Day a few years ago. Just accept the logic discordance and keep reading. It’s the best way to survive the Bonnywood Experience…
Andrea de Voluptua, reporting live from the scene: “I’m here at Esparza’s Mexican Restaurant, formerly known as Guero’s prior to yet another insipid corporate takeover, where police officials confirm that someone has done something they shouldn’t have. It’s not really clear what crime has been committed because details are sketchy but… oh, here comes Police Chief Barnaby Fife. Let’s see if he has any new developments.”
[The video feed becomes a bit erratic while the cameraman struggles to keep up with Andrea as she leaps an ornamental bush and practically throttles a startled Barnaby with her Pilates-toned legs, a dexterous move known in the reporting business as “get the story even if you have to use your crotch in a dramatic manner”. Back at the news desk, the anchors all clench their sphincters in a reactionary move known in the anchoring business as “I hate it when we go live because then we have to deal with reporters who aren’t all that good or they would be sitting where I’m sitting now.”]
Andrea: “Chief Fife, can you tell us what might be happening that caused you to put down your donut and report to an actual crime scene?”
Chief, still adjusting to the bush attack: “It might be easier for us to chat if you could release me from your nethers.”
Andrea, uncrossing her legs with an audible pop: “Sorry about that. It’s instinct, something I learned in my college sorority to make sure you had a date for the Spring Drinking Festival. Is that better?”
Chief: “Much. Although I’m sure I’ll be talking about this with my court-appointed therapist for years.”
Andrea: “Yeah, I’m not really interested in that. I’m more concerned about you saying something that will help me get to the anchor desk.” [Gasps from the still-clenched anchors.] “Is it a mass murder? Some type of gang activity? Public loitering?”
Chief: “Well, I can’t really tell you the exact crime that has been committed, because that won’t be determined until my team of publicists has figured out what will get me the most votes during the next election. But based on the evidence so far, it’s clear that we might be dealing with something we have never seen before.”
Andrea, practically salivating, visions of a Pulitzer Prize filling her otherwise empty but athletic head: “I can’t tell you how erotic that is to me at this moment. And what evidence would that be?”
Chief, holding up a photo with the flourish of someone who has just discovered penicillin or the best way to deal with unsolicited solicitors knocking on your door: “Brace yourself, but take a gander at this!”
Andrea: “Oh my God! Is that…?”
Chief: “Yes, it’s Brian Lageose, the enigmatic writer at Bonnywood Manor who insists on making his thoughts be known to the world despite most of the world taking a pass on his musings, especially the bits that have way too many pages of unfocused rambling.”
Andrea: “But… he NEVER smiles. I fully understand your concern about this situation, and I actually feel slightly bad about using my Wang Chung to trap you into an interview. But I’m getting over it because we’re still live. What do you think led to this completely unexpected development? How could someone who whines about everything ever smile?”
Chief: “Well, the photo does provide some clues. Exhibit A would be the swirl margarita that he attempted to shove out of camera range but did not quite succeed. Alcohol is the devil’s path.”
Andrea: “Oh, I don’t know about that. Alcohol is probably the only reason I haven’t completely lost my mind and started eating crayons. Life can be a little rough, once you get out of college and realize that anything you did or learned there doesn’t amount to squat in the real world.”
Chief: “I suppose that’s fair. The alcohol is my go-to blame source, because I was raised Southern Baptist and our congregation has been trained to point fingers at everything except what they see in the mirror.”
Andrea: “I really think that’s your own personal issue. Anything else?”
Chief: “There’s the girly purse in front of Brian.”
Andrea: “I wouldn’t really call that a girly purse. I would call that something purchased by a girl who doesn’t understand purses.”
Chief: “You might be right. Besides, we had a stealth satellite moved into position over this restaurant, and it seems that the purse only contains techno gadgets and an old ticket stub from a Thompson Twins concert in 1985.”
Andrea: “Yeah, I’m not really interested in ancient artifacts. Wait, hold that thought. Have you studied the mustache?”
Chief: “Mine or yours?”
Andrea: “You are not as clever as you think you are, the same thing I’ve said to everyone that ever tried to manipulate my Wang Chung. I’m talking about Brian’s mustache that reeks of 70s porno films. Boom chicka wow wow.”
Chief: “What was that last bit? Were you speaking Italian?”
Andrea: “Of course not. They don’t teach foreign languages anymore in America. Did you not read the Executive Order signed by Trump? But Brian is Italian, and you’ve just given me an idea for my next piece in a series that will surely win me a Nobel prize in reporting. Gotta run.”
Chief: “Wait! Now I don’t know if we should arrest this man or not.”
Andrea: “Do you really think anything is going to stop the mess that is coming out of his head?”
Chief, sighing: “I suppose not. Once the barn door is open, it’s really hard to close it.”
Brian’s Mustache: “I’m ready for my closeup, Mr. DeMille.”
April fools.
Ciao.
Note: Previously published, no substantive changes made. Except for the mustache. I can no longer sweep the kitchen floor with my face…
Categories: Raw Feed
Bonnywood Manor 
Awww. You gotta flash the stache. 😉
And, as to the Tangerine-tinted Tweet Twat, no one wants what’s in his head. First of all, you would have to find something small enough to put it in, and secondly, it has a vile, outsize stink. A Jabba the Hutt of reeking hostility. A Godzilla of sordid olfactory aggression. A dreadnought of belligerent aroma. A malodorous orange accident.
😉
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I was definitely flashing back with the stache. It was very satisfying at the time.
Trivia on the t-shirt, not that you asked: The Admiral Drive-In (later known as the Admiral Twin when they added a second screen) was/is an institution in my hometown of Tulsa. We drove-in constantly when I was little. Francis Ford Coppola, when he was shooting “The Outsiders”, filmed some of the scenes there…
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This was way too entertaining. Now I gotta start my Monday with a smile….😶
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I’m glad you enjoyed it. Thanks for stopping by and taking the time to make a comment!
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I was shocked, shocked I say, by the smile! I’ve gotten used to seeing men make poor facial hair choices so I didn’t notice the stache… but I did see the girly purse. Thompson Twins in 85? Hmmmm….
#1 get a new purse
#2 drink more morning margaritas, you should smile more often!
#3 … ummm… I guess there’s only two🤷🏼♀️
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This photo is really a rarity, based on my half-ass smile. I’m usually either not smiling at all (making me look like the medication is not working) or over-mugging intensely with all of my barn-door teeth exposed (making me look like the medication is working too well). Treasure this snap, always.
I’ll work on suggestion #1, I’m always working on suggestion #2, but I really feel like my destiny lies in the unfinished option #3, which is basically the story of my life…
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The more logically discordant the better. And whose purse is that? Fascinating colour.
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The purse is mine, a little zippered clutch thing wherein I keep all my electronics accessories. I haven’t done it in a while, but I used to blog all the time whilst drinking with friends. If memory serves, part of this post was scribbled whilst sitting at that table…
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Amazing. I keep my electronic gadgets in a clutch, too, but it is not so elegant. xo
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I’m guessing this is your enigmatic smile. Fetching.
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Thanks, Peggy. “Enigmatic” is one lovely way to put it. “My upper lip was too heavy for a more wholesome grin” is another… 😉
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thank you for this morning laugh, and I love, love andrea’s full name
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Seriously, the name-game aspect is one of my favorite things whilst scribbling a story…
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Up here in Canada we like more teeth in our smiles but sarcastic grins are still popular. I think it looks suspiciously like your mouth was still involved in eating and or drinking possible evidence so the picture of the alleged smile may simply be your orifice returning to it’s usual resting state. Lucky shot.
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Trust, the world is safer when they can’t see all of my teeth. Use that bit of intel as you wish…
But you’re probably right. I was most likely in the midst of doing something self-absorbed with my mouth when the photo-op happened, as it was captured by my bestie Tiffany and she has a knack for clicking when you least expect it…
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Polka dot faux purse and porn ‘stache aside… I’m quite disturbed by what looks like a stick of butter in that margarita. Please explain.
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You’re never heard of the Butter Rita? It’s all the rage in High Cholesterol Society.
But really, the drink is a swirl (sangria mixed with a frozen margarita) and the frozen bit hadn’t fully submerged into the sangria. Trust that it did not stay that way for long…
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Minus the butter, it sounds lovely.
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I must confess to attending a Thompson Twins concert in 1985. Also a Sheena Easton concert. On consecutive nights, no less. Where have all the flowers gone? J.
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I was probably in the same audiences with you. In some mystical way, I managed to attend a ton of concerts in the mid-80s, even though I was poorer than dirt. Somehow I found the money…
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Nooooooo….not the stache please. I always think the mustache takes the focus from the eyes. But then, considering yours are always behind shades….
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Agreed, the stache is not much of a win for anybody. But I do have fun with it every few years or so. And yes, I have deep and meaningful relationships with my sunglasses… 😉
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“Life can be a little rough, once you get out of college and realize that anything you did or learned there doesn’t amount to squat in the real world.” Ouch, how true …A man of your wisdom certainly lives in a ginormous house with people who fan you and feed you grapes all day!
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There are people around here who will feed me grapes? I need to start paying more attention… 😉
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You may not smile often, but you’re quite fetching when you do. Even with a 70s porn star ‘stache. 😉
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Aw, shucks. That’s very sweet of you to say. And actually, I really like this random snap by Tiffany (name ring a bell?), as it’s one of the few photos of me smiling where I don’t look completely delusional…
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