What a show!

Bambi Havadong stepped centerstage beneath a cascade of pink and orange sequins; her gargantuan proportions tamed by a corset lined with Teflon for ease of removal. As she shimmied in the limelight in a gesture of welcome to her adoring fans one member of the audience was heard to exclaim, "She looks like a marshmallow being severed with dental floss." A gust of laughter wobbled like a poorly spun wooden top. Then silence. A cough. The opening chords of 'I Will Survive' cut through the faint static of the sound system. Bambi's coral-painted lips curved around each syllable in a celebration of a sisterhood to which longed to belong (an unfortunate symptom of her condition) and her transformation was complete. In her own mind she was as agile as a kangourou, as wholesome as a daisy, as stimulating as a dildo - and her ass could write the alphabet in cursive.


Your words:
motor, duckling, overture, mimic, livery, shelter, fling, linger, mortician, bogus

33 in 33

It's official - the world will end in 33 days and my 33 years will disapear faster than a man after uttering the words 'I'm not ready for commitment'. Yeah, well I'm not ready either! Damn this global warming. Thought it might be nice up here in Scotland for a change but what did we get - more rain! I was all up for it untill the place started to flood. It won't be long before the UK makes like Atlantis and Venice and sinks to the bottom of the ocean. I should have booked my ticket out of here before everyone decided there was no point showing up for work anymore. All the looting and partying - people rutting like dogs on every street corner. Not really my scene. I always though the end of the world would be a little more romantic, y'know? People gathering together to sing songs round the fire and lend a neighbourly hand in a way we haven't seen since the war... fat chance of that. Fat chance I have of finding Mr. Right now! I will have to face the fact that I will die a virgin. Well, not technically, there was that one guy back in High School; and the guy at that party downtown on Halloween, but he doesn't really count because I never saw him without his Osama Bin Laden mask; oh, and the moron I wasted six years of my life with. But that was seven years ago so, technically, I've been a virgin longer than I've been having sex. And now what am I going to do? I refuse to stoop to the level of a slut simply because the world is going to end.

Your turn:

What happens next in this scene? A clock strikes midnight down a rabbit hole in Oxford.