The Stumpyville Saga has been fraught with deceit and destruction, and reading about it before bed only serves to ruin my slumber with nightmares. I awaken from the same dream every night, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. In my dream, it is pitch black, and the only thing I can see is Meany's mouth yapping like the fake, wind-up chompers my dear pappy used to have. The continuous chomping of her cavity causes my timbers to shiver.
I started a different story, close to bedtime, about Petunia Pilferloot. She is a character from the same series as Queen Totti's kingdom, except her story takes place in the land down under.
Petunia is quite a looker, according to anyone who knows her. Alas, Petunia's biggest fan is herself. Petunia has played almost every role known to Women: doting wife, adoring mother, delightful daughter, exceptional employee, moderately medicated, and vexing vixen.
Petunia has a notorious past that makes her easily recognizable. Her history, coupled with her autobiographical photography obsession, leaves much fodder for her naysayers. But Petunia's biggest scandals are second only to her single status.
Poor Petunia. Such a bright smile from such a conniving cutie. Should her shade be illuminated by the sun?
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