This one will go straight to the top

[Diogenes]

Hell, the closest I've seen to a hot leftette is Tina Fey-when she's impersonating Palin.

That's okay. She's all yours.

[Van]

There ya' go, smackie, all fixed.

[smackaholic]

nice job van. thanks.

I'd like to see what kinda sounds I could get outta her with my pushrod.

[smackaholic]

~denouement~

Late that morning, as Sarah was lying on her living room floor's bearskin rug, she was talking on the phone to smackaholic, who was berating her for calling a boy moose a "buck" rather than the correct term, which is a "bull."

As always, Sarah was getting off on being belittled, and when smackie began to coo to her descriptions of push-rod American V8 engines and the sounds they make...she knew. She knew smackie was the one man who could get her off.

No more would she be referred to as Caribou Barbie, in homage to her usual sexual partners. Finally, it was a man, just a man, who made her think of killing shit.

A real man...not something with antlers.

She curled her thumb into her palm, and with only the slightest grunt she slid the rest of her hand inside her weeping pink igloo.

Lying there, writhing on her back, she noticed for the first time that the support beams in the roof of her log cabin's porch were not stained properly.

"My gosh, even the exposed screws weren't properly treated!" she thought to herself, as her fisted pussy continued to sing its happy aria.

As Sarah reached her crescendo, she cried into the phone, "Oh, fuck, smackie! God, tell me more about fixer upper prices in Connecticut!

smack.-Never mind fixer upper prices sarah, I wanna know what other kinda ICE noises get you going?

sarah-"Well, there's the shriek of a ferrari V-12, sounds like a bald eagle call. Y'know we got tons of 'em up here."

smack-Ferraris?

sarah-No ya silly. Bald eagles. I got 4 of them as pets.

smack-I wanna pet your eagle, sarah. Is it bald?

sarah-You bet'cha!!!

There's one other engine that does it for me. An inline 6. It's just so smooth, kinda like the fur on that baby seal I clubbed last week.

smack- Really. Well, when you come to ct, I'll take you for a ride in my M6

sarah- really? I can hardly wait. I'm gonna hop on that gear shift and row it through the gears, feeling the pulsations from the inherently balanced inline motor directly against my cervix. Shifting a bmw through the gears is an orgasmic experience.

smack- yeah, bmw really nailed it with the autoshift.

sarah-'scuse me?

smack- the new 7 speed autoshift.

sarah- uhhh, yeah. so, you can't drive stick?

smack- why, sure I can.

sarah- yeah, uhh, I gotta run. I hear some sorta wildlife roaming around out on the deck. Gotta go blast it.

btw, that m6 you got....it's a V-10. Fag.

click.

ftfy

[Van]

See? This book is already writing itself.

All we need is a "meet cute," the rise from nowhere to the pinnacle, the inevitable fall, and finally the sighing acceptance.

[smackaholic]

So, who's gonna be the villain in this novel?

I suggest The Vertically challenged One

[Van]

The two timing caribou, whose duplicity forced Sarah into your clutches.

[smackaholic]

I said villain.

Anybody that drives that fine hunk a wannabe vp milf governess into my clutches is a fukkin' hero.

I saw we go with TiVO as the Anchorage ACLU pres. who's sole purpose in life is to cockblock sarah at every opportunity.

[Van]

Get on it, then.

I'll work on the moment of gratuitous epiphany.

[Felix]

So, who's gonna be the villain in this novel?

probably should be the wolves she shot out of the helicopter

or maybe a "mother humpin moose"