>> Thursday, March 31, 2011
So, Relax Max on Slap and Tickle suggested I write a story about a picture as he did. He was suggesting, I think, stealing a picture from my many favorite manga, but I know too much about the stories behind the pictures. It would corrupt me. So, in keeping with that, I'll just use the picture he used for his story, whatever it is. Instead of running a dime novel, though, I'll go for a stand alone story.
"My God, man! Do you know what you've got here?"
"Who the hell are you? And what were you saying to my sister? Marian! Marian! Was this creep bothering you? Damn it, you bastard! Why is she crying?"
"She's too sensitive, can't take the truth. Given the quality of her skin, the last thing she should be doing is crying. Really, honey, you'll look like a hag before forty if you don't do something about your skin."
"Bwaah! I'm going to find a teacher! You big meanie! Will you beat him up for me, Will?"
"If he doesn't get his hands off my face. What is your problem, asshole?"
"Your skin, on the other hand, is fabulous! So soft and your pores! Do you know what Britney Spears would give for your pores?"
"Let go, you freak. Let go my leg!"
"And your hair! I have a stylist friend, Lina, who would squeal with joy to run her fingers through your hair."
"You'll be squealing in something if you don't bloody well get your hands off my face and out of my hair. What's wrong with you?"
"My dear boy, I'm makeup artist to the stars. Your face couldn't be in better hands."
"Look here, nutcase, the only reason I haven't knocked you down the stairs is because I think that would actually kill you and I don't want to have to explain it. Let me go."
"So brutal. Really, so out of keeping with your beautiful skin and hair. You should be gentle, patient."
"Killing you is looking better and better."
"It's not a joke. What do you use on your face, your hair?"
"I'm serious. You have to take care of that skin. Do you want to end up looking like Brad Pitt?"
"Actually, that doesn't sound too bad as long as I'm not saddled with a dozen kids. You have five seconds to let me go before I start swinging."
"Believe me, handsome, you don't want his skin. Get within five feet and he looks like a troll. Hmm. You could use some mascara, though."
[Punch, tumble, tumble, tumble.]
Apparently, the story I had in mind was all in dialog.