WRITERS WRITE... WRITING PARTNERS FEUD ~ National Hat Day

 
A:  Is that a propeller on your beanie?  (Enters the office wearing a flowing skirt and carrying a box)

Z:  Yup.  (Eyes the carton suspiciously.  It has holes [the carton not the beanie or the skirt -- other than the standard two])

A:  Why the beanie?  (As she listens she opens the lid, and plucks out a feline, one of those flat faced, long-haired, over-sized felines)  Kissy-kissy m'hissy-hissy!

Z:  National Hat Day.  (Hears loud barking, grateful he had put the dogs outside in the yard to do their thang... number 1... and number 2!)

A:  (Ang looks around the office and finds a hat that has a devil motif and put it on, and then holds out the cat)  Whatja think?

Z:  Hat works for you.  You've got the devil in ya. (Smiles a fake smile)  Nice pussy.  (Smiles a real smile)

A:  Was that a sexual thing?

Z:  Nooooo!  (Shakes his head then to add an explanation point, spins his beanie's propeller) 

A:  I was talking about the hat.  You actually got the name right.  This is Pussy Galore named after the James Bond lady.  (She shakes the cat, rocking its hips, takes a paw and acts as if the cat is raking the air)  Meeeeeoooow!

Z:  Whatcha doing with a cat, annnnnd bringing it here with the dogs? Trying to stir up trouble?

A:  Pussy sitting for a friend.  She has to go get a Brazilian wax. 

Z:  (Zi decides to hold his p's and q's... thinking tit for tat... but lower on the female anatomy)  Let me share a hat story:

 An old lady, dressed to the nines with a fifties style dress, heels, matching gloves, belt and hat, was standing at the railing of the cruise ship holding her said hat tightly, so that it would not blow off in the wind.

A gentleman approached her, his expression anxious with concern,  "Pardon me, madam. I do not intend to be forward, but did you know that your dress is blowing up in this high wind?"

"Yes, I know," said the lady in a sweet, old lady high pitched, squeaky voice, "I need both hands to hold onto this hat."

"But, madam, you must know that your privates are exposed!" said the gentleman in earnest, actually moving in behind her to help hide that lack of coverage.

The woman looked down, then back up at the man and shrugged pragmatically, "Sir, anything you see down there is 85 years old. I just bought this hat yesterday!"

A:  I can relate to that lady.  I'd show off my goodies to hold on to an expensive hat. 

Z:  Goodies? 

A:  Yes!  (Runs her fingers through the cat's silky fur.  The cat purrs softly and so does Ang in a cooing way [was that a metaphor... who knows!])  You like being stroked like that, don't you, Pussy? (was that a tease... who knows!)

Z:  (Again, Zi decides to go the way of the gentleman rather than the rakish rascal that can be in his nature)  Two hats are on a hat rack.  Hat #1 to hat #2, “You stay here. I’ll go on a head.”

A:  (Never willing to drop anything)  Don't you think I have goodies?  Pussy likes goodies.  (Pulls treats out of her pocket for the kitty and feeds her)

Z:  Sure, we'll call them goodies.  (Looks at the feline, purposefully avoids looking at any other sort of goodies)

A:  You know how to kick a gal right in her crotch!

Z:  (Believing he is being a man of incredible nobility, riding the higher road, disregarding the numerous obvious puns, he takes a stand cause someone had to, and simply  ignores her)  "I just bought a new hat," said Red Crayon.  "Fedora?" asked Draw Inpaper.  "No, for me."

A:  You ignoring me?

Z:  I am figuring out where we can take a walk.  It could be a windy day.  (Hey, he was noble but no saint)  Have you had a Brazilian recently?

 

CHASING YESTERDAY EXCERPT

 

Strolling on the sidewalk, away from the beach, moving through summer people-clusters, Elizabeth nibbled on salt-water taffy. She had watched them making it through a window and she couldn’t resist. Just as she swallowed the last bite, a form caught her attention. A small gasp, a quick soft smile, a look that linked the distance spanning them occurred as Elizabeth whispered, "It’s him."

 

As if he heard her words, his expression spoke of someone searching, seeking, sliding over this one woman and that one, he was looking. For her, she fancied. And then they made eye contact. The connection radiated an understanding that he wanted to meet her. She could see it in him, felt it flow over that distance of several feet that seemed like only inches. He actually made the gesture, took

a step toward her. The flutter of nerves flitted across every extremity with most of the anxiousness residing in her belly.  Another step toward her.  "Nathan…"

***
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Angelica Hart and Zi ~ Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane
www.champagnebooks.com - www.carnalpassions.com - angelicahartandzi.com








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