To: jpmac who wrote (15302 ) 12/15/1998 11:08:00 PM From: Rambi Read Replies (5) | Respond to of 71178
She could hear the sound of She Who Has Two Left Feet stumbling over the crest of the ridge in her customary clumsy approach. Quickly Rambi assumed an expression of intense concentrated business and began sharpening one of her many knives, looking up only when she heard the sound of paper rustling. “What do you want?” She should never have let that jp person off the mountain alive. No one at this damn thread was capable of keeping his mouth shut. She must have run right back to the house. “Well, I thought maybe you were getting a little bored up here by yourself. And chilly.” She Whose Eyes Were Merely Blue looked suggestively at the fire. “A little trouble with the fire?” “Not at all. It was quite warm today.” Rambi gracefully rose and strode to the teacart under the tree.”Would you like some wine?” She knew she would find an excellent year opened and ready next to two fine crystal glasses. She Who Drank Cheap in Real Life enjoyed her little luxuries here. “Thank you. That's very kind. And perhaps some caviar?” Rambi sighed and reached for the silver tray that appeared before her. “I hope it's better than the last batch. I hate red,” she murmured and glanced down in time to see the shiny black mound on the tray fade and then grow bright crimson. Her azure, longlashed eyes narrowed and she turned to look at She Who Could Really Be a Bitch at Times suspiciously, but saw only an innocent smile. “So what have you been up to?" “Oh, this and that.” Rambi affected a superior look, that of a woman whose doings were too complex and important to explain to a lesser mortal. She Who Smirks sipped her wine, lifting her eyebrows obnoxiously. Rambi threw her wine glass into the fire with a vicious gesture. “You are so irritating.” She reached down and pulled her dagger from its leather sheath on matching soft leather thong and began to stroke it. “My, we're a bit testy. Are we feeling neglected? Perhaps a tad --useless?” With a move so swift, it was almost indiscernible to the naked eye, Rambi whirled and threw the knife at her doppelgänger. The weapon vibrated rather phallicly between She Who Deserved to Have It Stuck in her Foot's feet. “I think you'll be sorry if you try to hurt me with that,” she said mildly. “Don't be ridiculous. I've never missed a target in my life and I've never regretted any of my actions.” Rambi watched as a pen was produced and She Who Seldom Moved Fast began to swiftly write on a blank sheet of paper. “What are you doing?” Her curiosity overcoming her reluctance to know, she began to move toward her Eternal Burden when she realized that something felt ---odd. Her thong was being slowly tightened around her slender hips. She looked down and screamed in horror. “Courtesy of Coby, wasn't that nice? She had a little extra she wanted to share.” “What have you done! Get rid of it!” In terror but in vain, she tried to suck her stomach in. The thong slowly slid under the round mound of her little beer gut. “You ---you--icky---poopoo!” She stopped and blinked. “Ahhh--- we're not quite so fluent and verbal anymore, are we, my vestiphobic virgin?" Like whatever. Who needed words! Her sinewy limbs tightened, and she sprang at her tormentor; she had had all she could take. This putrid pinguid porknell would pay the price for her prattling persiflage! She had tried to be patient with the Witless One, but this was too much. Just as her fist traversed the space to the other face, her own perfect countenance began to itch. Reaching up, she felt unfamiliar dermatological terrain. What now? “Oh, dear! Late onset adolescence?” Rambi ran into the cave to the full length mirror. An anguished cry tore from her swanlike throat. It couldn't be! She whose skin had always been cameo-perfect, silken and honeytoned with a faint rose blush on her sculpted cheekbones, had--zits . Enraged, she whirled and leaped upon The Monstrous Madame. Her strong hands wrapped around her Nemesis' neck and began to tighten. “Not---a--- really----good----idea---” gasped She Who Was Turning Blue. Rambi watched transfixed as her hands grew transparent; SHE WAS FADING! As she realized what was happening , she released her victim, who collapsed gasping to the dirt. She sagged down next to her, her new tummy folding over her thong Buddhalike. “Stalemate,” said She Who Held the Pen. “Uncle,” said She Who Held the Sword. “I'm sorry I've neglected you.” “I'm sorry I called you icky poopoo.” They gazed at Rambi's stomach for a while. “I look like you,” said Rambi, in a bemused voice. “I don't have acne. And I DO have an eraser.” For a moment they glared at each other. Then Rambi struggled to her feet, almost toppling into the ashes at the unaccustomed imbalance of her midsection. She offered her hand. But She Who Now Needed a Real Name was busy writing. "There," she said, emphatically adding an exclamation point to the page. Rambi looked in relief at the smooth flat contours of her stomach, and pulled her thong back ito its regular position. She touched her face and felt the velvety texture restored. “What shall I call you?” she asked. “Well--I‘m not sure. We've been thinking about action names and descriptive words....I just don't know...ummm” the voice trailed off. “How about “She Who Can't Ever Decide Anything”? It slipped out before she could stop it. “How do you feel about being a Size 32AAA?” Rambi nodded. “How about a glass of wine and we;ll talk about it.” They turned and walked toward the cave, Rambi grabbing the caviar as they passed the cart. “I've always liked the name Pollyanna.....” said the Wimpy One, "or Belle....or Dulcinea...or maybe Guinevere?" Rambi's fist clenched, and then she took a deep breath, "Ive been thinking about a little trip to the White House...." They disappeared into her lair.