"I smell smoke," she yelped, alert eyes slashing

"I smell smoke," she yelped, alert eyes slashing across the expansive vista. Not a cloud stained the blueness. I glanced down at her long, yellowed fingers. "Yours?" I pointed at

her long, yellowed fingers. "No," she said, "but I doubt they'll be missed!" Her uproarious laughter echoed through the plains. The smoke smelled stronger now, so we decided to

inhale deeply then she said, "I am who you think i am and you the same. Your wrath was born here and must meet its end." I signaled "WTF???" to

which she drew a large broad sword. She swung haphazardly missing me by inches and hacking the settee in two. She tore off her dress revealing a chain mail bikini. "Just wait, I...

must examine the quality workmanship." I stood beside her, inhaling her Patchouli earthiness as I pretended to be interested in her chain mail bikini. She laughed heartily and

the bells lining the bikini border jingled merrily too continuing to ring after her laughter stopped. I watched the little bells mesmerized. "Shevanigans?", Red Sonja asked.

"What?" I asked in reply. She repeated her nonsense worse so I slapped her because I had enough. I then went to see my boyfriend, 50 Cent. Now he was what you call hot.

Hot as in hot flaming fruitcake, never have I seen such a lady-like big man. Behind 50 Cent's tough exterior laid a tender and effeminate soul, that begged for

frilly linen doilies, delicate hand-soaps, scented things of every nature, tiny nibbles of food and pastel. 50 Cent required a lot of pastel. "Look at all your different colored

baby figurines!" I said with a giggle. How very frilly and girly, nothing like I expected. 50 Cent then offered me some tea and crumpets. Sadly, too soon, it was time to leave.