Summary: A crossover. . . with real life.
Categories: Alternate Universe Characters: None
Genres: Humor, Inner Monologue
Warnings: Adult language
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 1
Completed: No
Word count: 560
Read: 1783
Published: December 19, 2007
Updated: December 19, 2007
Story Notes:
no copyright infringement intended. I own nothing.
Chapter 1 by forget_bumper
Author's Notes:
The first part is Pam.
The second part is Angela.
Tonight's my art show, and I'm so psyched. I mean, people will actually be there this year, and I really want to impress them. I really like my pictures this year.
Tonight, I'm wearing this fun outfit that Jim helped me pick out last weekend. I had told him that I wanted something somewhat extraordinary. Something that would make me pop from the croud, so I could match my fresh, colorful paintings. So here I am, in a shiny, silky v-neck button down t-shirt, a long, grey skirt, and these crazy gold high heels. For some reason, I really fell for these shoes. I usually prefer flats, or shoes with just a small incline, but I just loved how they made my legs look (which was a new look for me), yet how conservative they could be at same time. I feel a little sexy, and I'm really enjoying the experience of it all.
Before I head down to my car, I take the shoes off. I mean, knowing myself, I'll probably twist an ankle or something.
I reach the ground level and slip the shoes back on. I open the front door and reach into my purse and feel around for my keys, but they're not there. I run back up the stairs to fetch them, and I find them right on my dresser. I look at my alarm clock, and I learn that I'm going to be late. So I rush down the stairs, and after a few steps, I----- *crash*
Pams outfit: http://www.smugmug.com/photos/136206004-L.jpg
*~*~*~*
I am thoroughly abhorred with myself. I am a good person, and always have been. These things are supposed to happen to whores and hussies. . . like Pam. Or Kelly. Or Phyllis. But not me. I, Angela Martin, am a innocent, prudent young women who knows good from sin. And God has, for some abstruse reason, led me to sin.
I revealed to the perpetrator of this atrocity, Mr. Dwight, our "situation" a week ago or so. He seemed thrilled, and as soon as I saw that ludicrous, goony smile engulf his face, I slapped him hard, pivoted, and left. I knew from the beginning that Lola, Sprinkles, Sweetie, Snuggles, Bubbles, and Daisy would understand my dilemma better than any foolish human could. I should have followed my initial instincts. My feline friends helped me cope through that senseless night. And here I am now. A strong, but damned woman, with a demon-child haunting her.
I recently went to the doctor, and I was disgusted to discover that the doctor was a man. A man who gets paid to look up girls' pants and touch their hooches. He is the real sinner.
He told me that I should attend some prenatal yoga classes when I get larger and begin feeling discomfort. I'd rather skip church than go do that! I'd gladly tough through the pain. It is God's punishment. And who wants to be in a room full of cursed sluts who share the same problem as you, anyways? I'm offended enough, and I feel that it would be even more disgracing to be compared to such tramps.
Well, at least I know that I'm sentenced to hell now. At least I'll get to pay a visit to my Grandmother Anne, who worked as a lady of the night herself in the thirties.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.