There is passion in the soap. Their passion

There is passion in the soap. Their passion is in the soap. The soap is their passion. Show compassion if you must but not where I can see it. It disgusts me like baseless lies.

I don't cotton to based lies either, mind you, but they, at most, give me a mild queasiness; nothing close to disgust. But I understand that some people need to cling to their comp

"Name please?" I realized that the barista was waiting. "Oh, Mildred Crepuscule of Mars," I lied. A young man stood and said, "Interesting. I am also Mildred Crepuscule of Mars." W

-hat a coincidence! Turns out that the barista was also named Mildred Crepuscule of Mars, as well as the green man in the tin foil hat outside the window. So we became The Society

known for our foil fashion. Chanel had nothing on us. we could dazzle galaxies yet unknown. Just to bring in the fashionistas I grew an extra head. So Chic!

It took a while to get noticed in NYC,but then when of Lagerfeld's agents scouted me. His tinfoil hats were going to be the rage this summer,and with my two heads I'd be a perfect!

I was hired immediately and given two hats to hide my balding heads. One head was still red, the other blonde. One hat, a Fedora, covered both heads. Lagerfeld was impressed.

I dared to ask him, "Do you think I could get a fan, too?" A record scratch was heard and then, an audible gasp. All heads whipped my way. Lagerfeld merely blinked at me in horror.

"Fine, I'll get my own!" I snapped. I went to move and the crowd surged towards me. "No fan," hissed Lagerfeld, his eyes swirling madly. I was soon buried under the pile of bodies.