So I was walking down the street listening the to the new Scissor Sisters on my Zune [is it just me, or does it sound like it could have been produced by Groovie Mann and Buzz McCloy...?] when I spied a sandwich board on the corner advertising a discount Brazilian wax with an arrow pointing down the next street. Well, it is summer, and I have been remiss in the grooming of my Boo Boo Kitty, and you know much how bitches love a good discount... so naturally I turned the corner as the arrow directed.
After a few feet, I came upon another sign. "This way to your super discount Brazilian!" that pointed down a dark alley. I had already invested a few paces into this venture and there was no turning back now. So I continued on... into the dark damp alley... a cat awkwardly jumped across my path [almost as it somebody just out of frame chucked him at me] and darted towards a dumpster, knocking over some bottles as it hurried away.
I went to see if the cat was okay when I saw a strange figure stooped suspiciously behind the dumpster. My first thought was that it was just a misplaced bridge troll, but I was suddenly gripped by fear... it was as though I might be channeling Jamie Lee Curtis. I approached cautiously, my heart pounding in my chest. I slowly reach my quivering hand toward the hunched creature.
"Oooo girl, don't do it!" an unseen black girl screamed off in the distance, but I couldn't help it, and I wasn't sure why, but I was compelled to see the creature. Then I saw what it was holding in its stubby little hands and I couldn't help but let out a startled gasp...
The figure quickly turned turned toward me after hearing my gasp. I could see more clearly the large rat [I suppose it coulda been a nutria, I mean it was pretty big] he was holding, a huge bite taken out of its side.
"I must feed!" Glenn Beck snarled, as rat blood [nutria blood? I still couldn't really tell... you know, the more I think about it, it coulda been that stupid cat] ran over his lips and down his chin.
"Oh, I was right, it is just a misplaced bridge troll," I said, regaining my composure and continuing on my way to my super discount Brazilian. The slurping sounds from Glenn slowly faded into white noise as I approached the third and final sign pointing into the back entrance of an abandoned Millers Outpost.
"Hello, pretty lady, you here for discount Brazilian?" a polite man with a thick Russian accent asked as I entered.
"You know it!"
"Good, good, you lay down here," he said, directing me to the old check out counter.
"Its been a while, is this gonna hurt?" I asked.
"No, no, not at all," he said, pulling out a thick roll of gaffer's tape. "Like big band-aide, very quick." I raised an eyebrow with suspicion. "Very good discount," he added and I was sold. I mean how could I say no, it was a good discount... and he was kinda hot...
Meanwhile, in the alley, the only sounds were that of the misplaced bridge troll feasting hungrily. It had been weeks since it had last fed and he worried that the lady would come back and take his food. It continued to look around cautiously back in the direction that the lady had went. Then, suddenly a piercing scream slashed through the quiet of the alley and scared the little bridge troll. It dropped its meal and ran blindly in the other direction, right out into the street, where it was promptly struck down by a street sweeper as it drove down the street picking up trash.
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