At first glance, this appears to be a lovely image of young lasses enjoying a rather uncoordinated but still festive game of leapfrog. In actuality, this image was snapped at the Margaret Thatcher Correctional Facility for Undisciplined Urchins, just as the troubled felon-ettes were searching for a homemade shank that Big Martha had stupidly dropped just before the Big Rumble at the teeter-totters.
Othella, far right: “You twits need to hurry up. I can see Sister Snapcrackle over yonder, and she’s sniffin’ the air like she knows we ain’t playin’ no leapfrog.”
Learina, one of the bent-over urchins: “Then do somethin’ about it, girl. We gotta find the shank.”
Othella: “Whaddya want me to do? It’s not like I can stop her from comin’ over here.”
Learina: “Go break somethin’ in the chapel. You know she’ll be after your ass right quick.”
Othella: “I ain’t doin’ that. Last time I did, they took away my butterscotch puddin’ for a whole week. That’s the only thing that keeps me goin’ in this hole.”
Bethmac, another bent-over: “You’re such a little girl, little girl. I ain’t scared a no Snapcrackle.”
Othella: “You should be. Snapcrackle don’t play. That time I broke the head of the Margaret statue? She made me read the Bible backwards. All of it.”
Bethmac: “You sure do like bustin’ things. What’s wrong with you?”
Othella: “I grew up at a coal mine. I can’t relax unless things are gettin’ busted up all night. If I can’t sleep, I go break somethin’.”
Bethmac: “Sounds like they need to take away more than just you’re puddin.”
Tempestina, one of the leaping girls: “Could all y’all just shut up for a minute and give me the downlow on Snapcrackle? Is she headed this way? I ain’t really enjoyin’ all this fake jumpin’ and I’d just as soon stop if it ain’t worth it anymore. I done snagged myself a few times, if you smell what I’m cookin’.”
Othella: “Oh. I done forgot about her, what with Bethmac shamin’ me ‘bout bein’ a coal miner’s daughter and all. Okay, um, let’s see. Best I can tell, Snapcrackle is still on a mission, but she stopped to talk to Sister Goldenhair. She’s pointin’ over here, so she ain’t done, but at least she ain’t walkin’.”
Tempestina: “Damn. Means I gotta keep jumpin’. Okay, here goes. Whoops, sorry Ophelia. ‘Scuse my hoo-hoo.”
Ophelia: “Really? My ear? I’d best find me a river to clean up in after this.”
Bethmac, future lady: “Out, out, damn spot.”
Ophelia: “You makin’ fun of me?”
Bethmac: “No, that would be the writer makin’ me say that, with him thinkin’ he’s bein’ clever and all.”
Ophelia: “I feel ya. He’s a horrid man, with what he does to us characters. I done got a cooter upside my head.”
Othella: “Breakin’ news, girls. Sister Brisket just joined Sisters Snapcrackle and Goldenhair. They still ain’t walkin’ over here, but they’re plannin’ somethin’. We gotta find that shank!”
Romeo-Etta: “Found it! Oh, sorry, it’s just another crucifix. How many of those things do they need around here? Geezus.”
Othella: “Wait, will it do in a pinch for the rumble?”
Romeo-Etta: “Look, I ain’t usin’ this thing in a street fight. You can do what you want, but I ain’t shankin’ nobody with this, and I’m an atheist.”
Othella: “You are? Ain’t you the one who says prayers the loudest in morning chapel?”
Romeo-Etta: “Of course I am. Ain’t nobody takin’ away my puddin’ for a week.”
Othella: “Dang it, here they come. Nobody knows nuthin’, ya hear? Don’t nobody rat on nobody.”
First on the scene, Sister Goldenhair: “Surprise! We know what you’re doin’.”
Othella: “You do? Well, it wasn’t my idea. It was… it was Bethmac!”
Bethmac: “Wow, that took you one second to turn. You better be careful in the showers, Tokyo Rose.”
Sister Goldenhair, beaming righteously: “Now, now. Ain’t no need to pretend anymore and be name-callin’ and shower-threatenin’. We’re just real proud of what you’re doin’.”
Learina: “And…what is it that you think we’re doin’, exactly?”
Sister Goldenhair: “Why, workin’ on your choreography for that there Margaret Thatcher Tribute Parade next week.
Complete silence for five seconds, then:
Bethmac: “That’s it, exactly.”
Tempestina: “You done caught us.”
Romeo-Etta: “I got me the chills, how right you are.”
Sister Goldenhair: “I just have one question. Why we all talkin’ like we from Oklahoma instead a Nottingham, England where this here urchin-correction facility be?”
The Bent-Over Girls and the Leaping Girls and The Sisters, Christian and otherwise, all turned to look at The Writer.
The Writer did not look back and continued eatin’ his butterscotch puddin’.
Fin.
Previously published, revised and massively extended. (The original was just the first paragraph.) And yes, I know this one is wrong on so many levels. But it felt right on many others, especially with the twisted trivia, and the balance leans in favor of me gettin’ some good sleep tonight, even if nuthin’ gets busted up over at the coal mine, daughter.
Cheers, y’all.
Categories: Past Imperfect
Bonnywood Manor 
Bardly Shankspeare.
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Nail on the head, you did hit.
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This reminds me of the horrible gym suits I had to wear in high school.
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Speaking of horrible, the worst thing about the boys’ outfits? The fact that most of them stayed in the locker room for the entire year without ever being washed, because boys are wretched when it comes to cleanliness. It was not a pleasant aroma, by any means…
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Love it Brian 😂 . Just tuned in from a rainy north western town in England not far from Maggie’s old coal fields. Hope you are well 🤩
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Ah, the coal fields. Maggie was SUCH a champion of the folks who worked there. (Said with FULL sarcasm.) Good to hear from you!
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Defo Brian and good to hear from you too. 🙂
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Margaret Thatcher should have been the first inmate of that facility, for crimes against humanity. The most divisive PM we’ve ever had, though the current clown seems to be trying to snatch Snatcher’s title from her. And I’d never previously realised that the America song was a tribute…
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Oh, I’m right there on the same page with you. She was terrible. Of course, I feel the same way about Reagan, her partner in crime during some of her time. But the thing that worked in both of their favors was that many people, then, still respected their leaders and turned a blind eye, so they got away with far more than they should have…
And yes, the America song was a tribute, in a mystical future-vision sort of way. Swear. 😉
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Obviously the pudding was worth it.
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When is it not? 😉
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Sally Jo (not well seen as she’s far afield, near those weird tombstone looking things in the back ground, far left) If I see one more untended garden, I’ll jes’ lose what’s left of my butterscotch puddin’. And it was mighty fine today too! Iffen I weren’t casually moseyin’ to the fence and freedom, I’d start a riot just so they had to buy longer skirts. If a body has to bend over in these outfits, least ya might expect is free wax jobs once a month!”
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Ohhhh…. I hadn’t noticed Sally Jo back yonder. Good eye. And yes, now that I assess her harried body language, I think you interpreted her mission quite well. I also detect that Sally Jo might be a bit snooty about the entire situation due to an unfortunate incident involving an amorous cousin in her younger years. She is RIPE for further exploration. I’ll get back to you… 😉
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I thought they were kissing their butts good-bye, but now that you have explained, I understand everything much better. 😉
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As always, I’m here to serve, especially when it comes to adult beverages and this lovely shrimp dip I encountered in a shady pub on a lesser-traveled (for good reason) side street in Malaga. I knew said dip would be in my life forever. Whoops, I seem to be making this all about me. Let’s get back to the butt-kissing urchins, shall we? ;
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Nice reference to The Play, and as Sister Goldenhair might say
“I been one poor correspondent, and I been too, too hard to find
But it doesn’t mean you ain’t been on my mind”💕
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Bonnywood is all about references, questionable and otherwise. But since we’re fessing up, I’ve been a poor correspondent as well. I’ve been struggling to stay focused on proper blogging etiquette, going through one of those periods where I’m just not feeling the inspiration, so I’ve not been commenting on each of your posts like I used to do. Trust, it’s not you, it’s me. Eventually, I’ll shake it off, and we can get back to where we once belonged… 😉
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You should not be too quick to dismiss your first instinct that this photo was wrong on so many levels!
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Well, my little story is wrong as well, so I guess it’s a bit of twisted kismet?
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very nice
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Thank you!
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Strangely enough, this actually looks much safer and better organized than leapfrog.
Also, thought you’d like to know that “Revised and Massively Extended” sounds like a great sequel to a porn flick. Just in case you want to branch out, you know.
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Agreed. Leap Frog in my elementary-school years was rather vicious, often leading to bandages, possible concussions and the horror of not being invited to a very important birthday party at the local zoo.
As for the porn angle, I’ve actually thought about writing an “erotic” tale that is basically offensive yet still redeeming, humor-wise. It’s a tricky flight path, so I haven’t gotten there yet, but I’ll keep trying… 😉
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Looking at the photo I can’t help but smile at the girls bearings. Great photo !
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Thanks, Bacardi!
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My pleasure…
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I bet the inside of your brain would be a really, really interesting (if slightly frightening) place to visit. This post is outrageous! Laughed my buttinski off!
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Oh, my brain is a great place to visit. But you wouldn’t want to live there… 😉
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