Gone With the Wind Gone Wrong

Jacob: I’m in a playful mood today. Be warned.

Angela: Oooh! You want to play? *Angela wads up a piece of paper and chucks it at Jacob*

Jacob: Folds it into an airplane and it lands in Angela’s ear

Angela: (4’11’’) Bull charges Jacob (6’1’’) and promptly goes nowhere.

Jacob: She bounces off my illustrious abs*

Angela: Ugh!! *Falls to the floor suffocating beneath the ego.* “Can’t…breathe…too arrogant. Must…deflate…ego.

Jacob: Got you where I want you *promptly ties you up and gags your mouth then goes back to work…lol

Angela: Agh!! You almost had me excited at the tying up.

Jacob: Gutter mind

Angela: It’s me. What do you expect?

Jacob: Sadly too much

Angela: Eh. *Lays across your lap in overdramatic fashion like in Gone with the Wind and says, “You love me”

Jacob: Butler looks down and sighs, and with the shake of his head gets up and walks into the sunset alone…his back to her

Angela: I fall on the floor miffed that I could so blatantly ignored…and in classic 1950’s Hollywood fashion I quip, “O…come back.” My lip quivers. DeMille would be proud

Jacob: Camera pulls back in dramatic dolly-out as screen fades to black. Titles: THE END

Angela: Grandiose score music plays (we should partner up to do screen plays)

Jacob: Eyes are wiped, sniffles are heard as audience leaves the theater

Angela: Only to find that they are standing outside in the London rain. Audrey Hepburn is selling flowers and Rex Harrison is writing down every ghastly sound she makes.

Jacob: Producers at the back are excited by the crowd’s response until someone hollers, “That’s the worst load of dren I’ve ever seen. Someone should shoot the director!”

Angela: I point at Jacob and dash into the rain while guns are cocked at Jacob. I “tehehee” down the street.

Jacob: Then you hear the guns ring out, which startle Angela into tripping on some loose pavement, which sends her flying in front of a London double decker

Angela: BANG!

Jacob falls dead while Angela twitches under the tires of the bus. The rain washes their blood down the street. It drains into the London underground and there they mingle together at last in the London sewers where they belong.

Jacob: Death spasm as her nervous system pumps our last vestiges of blood.

Angela: Meanwhile, Mrs. Lovett has just discovered an alternative for her mysterious meat pies. The camera spans to read the words “Fleet Street” in the rain.

Jacob: Then Jacob opens his yes, standing in front of Pearly Gates while Angela…well we won’t go there.

Angela: Happily greets all her friends with a handshake, a slainte, and a beer!



About the Author: Anna Imagination

Biographical Info... What you seek is my Story. Every Soul is a "Blurb" as one would read on the back of the book. But can people be "unwrapped" so easily? Most importantly, why try? I have long since learned to preserve the Savory that comes with Discovery. Learning of another Soul is a Journey. It is an Exploration. And it does not do the Soul Justice to try and condense a Soul Journey into a Bio.