ScoopGods.com – Maisy Mason was a helping sort of person. She has lived at 5th and Randolph for much of her life, and it’s been quite a long life. Maisy’s a handsome old woman for an eighty one year old. During her many years of life she’s been able to accumulate many talents, more so that the usual person of her advanced age, and now that she’s in her golden years she never passes up an opportunity to put them to good use. On this afternoon she was out sunbathing in her front yard when a sad looking mariachi band trumpeter happen to be passing by. He was looking down at a flattened object in his hands while shuffling along the sidewalk. Unable to contain herself, the old woman spoke up.
A few of these can make good neighbors
“Hey sonny, why don’t you come on over. You know I’m quite an expert at sombrero repair,” said the willowy old woman with a subtle smile.
This brightened the fellow right up. His pace picked up to a happy little trot as he walked onto the old woman’s lawn. She sat up in her lawn chair and looked at him as her brown skin shone in the sun. He noticed that her bikini top was tied very loosely as she straighten her back. Every time she moved the sway of her breasts seems to pull the shoulder straps farther down.
“Why I would be ever grateful if you could fix my sombrero mees-us,” said the man who was now in a splendid mood, “My name is Paco.” He was stout man who carried much of his weight on his stomach. He had a stringy looking black mustache and a large square chin. His trumpet, which was slung low around his shoulder, was bold and strong. It was a fabulous trumpet and he knew how to use it.
Maisy reached forward to grab the sombrero as he held it towards her. Just as she was about to grasp it, he pulled the sombrero back an inch causing the bikini top to sag even lower. After displaying a magnificent smile that showed off an amazing set of shiny white teeth, Paco finally handed it over. In response, Maisy offered him a can of malt liquor from an ice filled cooler next to her chair. Paco readily accepted without hesitation.
Maureen Crawford was watching the scene unfold from her living room window. She was admiring the strength of Paco’s trumpet when she decided that she wanted in on this game. Maisy was her friend and neighbor and they shared a lot. She knew that being six years older than Maisy gave her a distinct advantage of having yet even more finely honed talents. It was time to get off the living room couch and get a little exercise. Maureen’s living room was her lair and she only went outside when she had good reason. In many ways the living room was a perfect reflection of Maureen herself with it’s dark smokiness, it’s comfortable furniture, it’s swaying light fixtures, and the thick shag carpet that perfectly matched the drapes. Maureen’s silvery hair was very unique in that, even at age 87, it had unusual cinnamon colored streaks. Her voluptuous leg jiggled as she lifted her foot up on the side table in order to gain better leverage to look out the window.
“Wow, Paco that’s a nice trumphet,” purred Maisy as she leaned forward from her chair. The neighborhood was very quiet and everyone kept to themselves allowing for an anything goes mentality, indoors or out. Paco was already well through his second malt liquor when Maisy finished fixing his hat. The sombrero looked as good as new. She gently rubbed his backside while he tried it on.
Maureen knew that now was her moment. “She’s not the only one who can fix a sombrero,” said Maureen to herself as she grabbed her Bedazzler. Paco’s trumpet shifted noticeably as Maureen entered the scene from her front door, wearing nothing but a loosely tied robe. He opened a third can of beer from Maisy’s cooler as the day was shaping up to be a success.
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This is definitely sick, but in a rather amusing way. But then i believe that’s the point, innit?