…or On the Eleventh Day of Christmas, My True Love Gave to Me: A Scolding.
Over at the Trailer Park:
Joodles: All ready to hit the stage tomorrow? You’re not wearin’ that are ya?
Lannie: Why? Nobody’s gonna see it behind my gee-tar.
Joodles: Lannie, it’s got a conglomeration of stains that could be anything from drool to chili-con-carne.
Joodles: Hold the fort, I’m goin’ shopping.
Meanwhile down at Seaside Villa:
Joodles: You all set for your gig tomorrow, dear?
Lancelot: Sure am. Just going to spit shine these boots and I’ll be all set.
Joodles: But you’re not wearing that outfit, correct? Do a pirouette for me please and thanks.
Joodles: There’s a hole in the elbow of your shirt, the collar is hanging by a thread and there’s a stain on the back of your pants that looks like something it probably isn’t.
Lancelot: But it’s my lucky shirt. I wear it for all my gigs.
Lancelot: Besides, no disrespect dearest, but your attire is less than impeccable. There’s a soot stain on your bosom.
Judith: Oh my heavens. How long have I been going around like this? Why didn’t you tell me? I’m going shopping!
© Judy Parsons 2019