amanda
02-04-2003, 07:03 AM
Here's what we started.... let's get her to crack that 1000th post. ;)
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MoN: Margueritte or some such frogginess actually. And she speaks with a decidedly french canadien accent with just a hint of phlegm... It's so cute to hear her talk... a sort of cannuck Kate Hepburn. "See?"
a: with the ciggy hanging out of the side of her mouth.
MoN: I overheard her speaking to her Boss.. it went a little something like this...
"Why, what's the meaning of this Boss? I deserved a by-line on that story and you go and give it to Henderson, see. Henderson is a chump, a rube I tell ya. He's a has been , see? A never was, I tell ya. I'll take this to the top... to JP himself, see? Why I oughttta...."
a:while her ciggy creates a shroud of smoke, appletini in hand
MoN:"If you were half a man you'd hand that Henderson his walkin' papers, that's what I think. But you're nothing but a pusilanimous pip-squeak. Why, a real man wouldn't be afraid to give a woman a chance in a man's racket like this, See?"
a: she cradles the martini glass as though she's going to toss the contents at the invisible target painted on his head.
A smile plays upon her lips- the kind of smile that invites fear into sane men, and dangerous thoughts in others.
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MoN: Margueritte or some such frogginess actually. And she speaks with a decidedly french canadien accent with just a hint of phlegm... It's so cute to hear her talk... a sort of cannuck Kate Hepburn. "See?"
a: with the ciggy hanging out of the side of her mouth.
MoN: I overheard her speaking to her Boss.. it went a little something like this...
"Why, what's the meaning of this Boss? I deserved a by-line on that story and you go and give it to Henderson, see. Henderson is a chump, a rube I tell ya. He's a has been , see? A never was, I tell ya. I'll take this to the top... to JP himself, see? Why I oughttta...."
a:while her ciggy creates a shroud of smoke, appletini in hand
MoN:"If you were half a man you'd hand that Henderson his walkin' papers, that's what I think. But you're nothing but a pusilanimous pip-squeak. Why, a real man wouldn't be afraid to give a woman a chance in a man's racket like this, See?"
a: she cradles the martini glass as though she's going to toss the contents at the invisible target painted on his head.
A smile plays upon her lips- the kind of smile that invites fear into sane men, and dangerous thoughts in others.