- Response
"Never," he spit out, bathing in the glow of what he believed to be a clever rejoinder. "My body is a temple."
"A temple which is pickled in liquor, anointed in cigarette smoke, and served only the rankest prostitutes from 5th and Main. If that's a temple, I'm a monkey's uncle."
He stared at her blankly.
"Let me put it this way: You do all that to your body but your refuse to let me - a time-tested female with years of experience in the art of grooming - pluck that unsightly caterpillar growing between your eyes?" Upon the word "pluck," he winced, taking a step back and waving his hands madly.
"As I said, a temple. You wouldn't do that to Zeus, would you?"
"If you were Zeus, we wouldn't be having this conversation," she retorted, tweezers held at the ready.
Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.
ReplyDeleteWill you write me a novel full of witty and deeply biting repartee like this?
Or, at least, a short story?
Let's collaborate.
XOXO
P.S- I'll be in Burlington next week. Not sure what days. I'll follow up with you as soon as I know.
Of course! I'll write tomes for you, my dear ;)
ReplyDeleteP.S - Yes, I need a little Carissa dose before you leave for the Italian country side. You know the number; call me! <--read in Valley Girl voice.