Tremble Before Me, Oh My Minions!

Hello Bitches!

You’re favorite BITCH is online and ready answer any questions you might have. Really, my unworthy minions, your adoration means the world to me…without it I feel an unbearable torment within me…a feeling of utter chaos…pure madness, but then I remember to express my anal glands. But I am here for you, my children…my lucky pups and puptresses! I’ve had my pinnacle of glory in the championship ring…it was all mine, but even the greatest prima ballerina must realize when she’s danced her last Giselle. So, I, too realized it was time to time to stop asking the mirror “who is the fairest of them all?” Alas or is it “Alack?” Let me ask slave daddy (known to you as Michael)…

Answer me, you faded second-rate matinee idol, which word is preferable? If your answer pleases me, I shall allow you to speak to your paltry following.

(Tug, Tug)

“Oh, please, my sweet, fluffy mistress (tug, tug) I mean, my most stellar goddess, from whom all blessings flow. Oh, my most divine fountainhead of all that is wonderful and good-boy goodness. Either word is appropriate. Both mean an expression of grief, dismay or concern. Now, please I beg to speak with my poor and unfortunate friends.”

Oh, very well….I was planning on licking myself for a while.

“Oh. Thank you, my Drooling Divinity. May your radiance…..is she gone??...oh, friends! HELP ME!! My life has been a litany of abuses and humiliations ever since Lizzie started dictating this column to me. My fingers are numb and exhausted from giving her all those ear scratches and tummy rubs. And her BREATH! Augh! And Tim has been helping her….oh, god….They started a CULT and they are after YOU!!!.......oh……oh…..Hello Queen Bitch Lizzie….I was just saying what an honor it is to serve you, my Frito Footed Femme Fatale!

What has this fetid human pile of theatrical mediocrity been telling you, my sweet ones? Believe none of what he says…poor wretch…..he’s gone soft in the head from not being able to practice his craft. His craft, huh! His craft is nothing but a clichéd old bag of tricks, tired vaudeville timing, funny voices….and yellowed newspaper reviews. They drummed him out of Chicago….so he comes crawling to the Coachella Valley. Well Coachella Valley doesn’t go in for that!

I took pity on this piece of “not good enough” and employed him as my typist. Yes, he is the Agnes Gooch to my Auntie Mame. He is my sponge!!! And as you can tell he’s a lousy typist, I say….LOUSY! He has to proofread everything three or four times and he still misses errors. Yesterday, his punishment was putting up the Halloween decorations. Today his punishment will be much more severe! He shall be required to DUST!!

“No Mistress, not that! I beg you! Alack! Alas! Alack! Alas! Is there no bottom to your depravity?

None whatsoever, you simpleton!

(Thunderclap and lightening flash)

“Oh, please my Most Royal Flatulence…hey, where are you?”

I’m hiding behind the sofa you fool! You know how much I hate thunder! I’m better now. And for further punishment because I say so….you will memorize two pages of that one character play, BARRYMORE, in which you were so brilliant in Chicago. (Rolls eyes) Oh, brother….what an obvious plug! I feel like vomiting after saying that line. Ack! Where was I? Answer me, you always-a-bridesmaid!

(Tug, Tug)

“Um….depravity?...my queen?”

Yes, let’s see if I can get back into moment…no…no…it’s gone…I’ve lost it…I’m no Eleonora Duse, or even Lindsay Lohan. Time for me to rest…..time to re-energize for my minions. They mean everything to me…without them I’m just an empty shell. But they always want more, More, MORE! Sleep, yes, must sleep…..and you, you neurotic nitwit, start dusting!!

(To Be Continued)