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Pastimes : Don't Ask Rambi -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: epicure who wrote (46955)	2/18/2000 11:18:00 AM
From: Rambi	Read Replies (2) \| Respond to of 71178

The early morning was dark and overcast, no sign of sun or warmth, as she slipped through the trees down the mountain, her perfect skin glowing even without aid of sunlight, though marred slightly by goosebumps in the chill. She should have worn a warmer thong, she thought, and picked up her pace. The call from She Who Couldn't Handle a Broken Fingernail Without Hysteria had interrupted a lovely dream and she was not in a good mood. In the dream she and William Wordsworth were flying on a giant chicken over the forests of South America, while he sang, in a voice remarkably like Pavarotti, She Dwelt Among the Untrodden Ways to the tune of I've Been Working on the Railroad. It was a beautiful moment, and she resented the rude awakening. William didn't stop by too often these days. She came to an abrupt stop in front of the DAR-Door. There appeared to be blood on the knob. Her perfect Grecian nose lifted as she sniffed- animal or human? Had there been an unauthorized barbacoa this week? Not wishing to soil her newly manicured hands, which had gone reflexively to the uzi slung gracefully over her slender shoulder, she stepped back and lifted one long leg, admiring the fit of her new black leather thigh- highs as she did so, and swiftly kicked the door in. A terrible sight greeted her eyes. Not unexpectedly, She Who Is Intimidated by a Hungry Canary was peering out of the grand piano, eyes rolling wildly in panic as she gazed at the bodies wrestling and grappling on the floor below her. There would be no coherent explanation from that corner. She stepped carefully over a body-- could it possibly be a corpse?-- wrapped in a flag, being rolled across the room by Coby, who was reading aloud from a book as she pushed it toward the door. As she passed, she hissed something about cheating at cards. Rambi nodded, certainly unacceptable behavior though she thought murder a bit of an overreaction to the offense. However, her attention was caught by a fracas near the kitchen where Ish sat atop a pile of what appeared to be grain, being picketed by several women carrying signs reading. Women are too good business.. X was standing in the center of the room, looking satisfied by the scene, but as Rambi crossed to her to ask what the hell was going on, she was somewhat dismayed by the sight of chicken feathers hanging out of X's mouth. Had X been eating raw chickens again? Marching to the piano instead, she grabbed She Who Still Believes in Fairies by the scruff of her scrawny neck, “What have you let them do this time?” she growled. “I didn't mean to,” sobbed the Wimpy One, “It was just a column! I just wanted to talk about something meaningful, like they do on those other intellectual threads. I'm sorry!” “You are so worthless.” Raising the Uzi, Rambi fired a few rounds into the ceiling. “Listen up!” she said, as the bruised and tired bodies looked at the little gummibear holes appearing overhead in surprise. “It's Friday. And I don't LIKE fighting on Friday. I like parties, and champagne and escargots on Fridays, and funny jokes, goddam it. Do you understand me?” The body in the flag stirred. “Can I wear my Southern Cross toga?” Another round of gummi bears drilled the edge of the flag. “No.” She turned to She Who Should Never Have Been Allowed Out of the Attic and said, “Do you want to say anything?” “I just want everybody to think pink and blue thoughts again," wailed the pitiful p-person and rolled farther under the lid of the grand piano, the strings giving off little protesting pings. Rambi closed her eyes; “You could never be a member of the Yaya Sisterhood.” she said in disgust and shut the piano lid. Without looking at anyone, she headed for the door, slowing only to pick a gummibear from the flag on the floor and pop it into her perfect mouth before she strode back to her cave.