My Doily Levitated
this referee with a weird little beard- with this hottie laying right next to you
- first impulse was to tell her of my love
- We should get married more often
- one writhing, festering, pulsating blob
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My doily levitated above my lap as Isolde ducked in through the tent flap. She greeted Fleur with an embrace, showing no notice of my magic trick in her honor. When my turn came for felicitations, things would surely become awkward.
I had no idea. Behind Isolde came a rotund man in traditional Contrarian riding garb, including the fluffy boa and the tufts of pink fur at the tops of his glossy green boots. The thing that made him notable, though, was his facial hair. Equestrians of Fleur’s homeland usually wear muttonchops, but his formed a corkscrew on his chin. He stood over me, this referee with a weird little beard, and said, “It could get distracting with this hottie laying right next to you, so my job is to help you focus on answering the questions.”
Isolde had by then stretched out on the ground alongside her sister, so I wasn’t sure which hottie he was referring to. I looked Fleur in the eye, and my first impulse was to tell her of my love for her sister. Faking a sneeze to cover my agitation, instead I said, “We should get married more often.”
Isolde batted her lashes at me. “Let’s begin. My pedicurist is holding an appointment for me and I can’t be late. So, I have only one question: identify this.”
From an inner pocket of her diaphanous gown, she pulled a small round box which she dumped out onto one of the silver platters. The contents slid out and landed in one writhing, festering, pulsating blob.
bonus points for using them in order