Weasel Woman
They called her Weasel Woman because she had ferrets. Two ferrets to be exact, and they’d long gone to ferret heaven decades ago. Her friendships with the immature assholes who called her Weasel Woman had also ended years ago.
Back in the 80’s, the 1980’s, she’d dress so elegantly in brightly colored pencil skirts, and sky high heels and hair, and of course shoulder pads. The adorable little ferrets would ride along, sitting on her shoulders, with matching bows on their necks. Their names were Casper and Francisco, after two of her favorite artists.
That was forty years ago. She no longer wore shoulder pads or sky high heels. She also no longer had ferrets or any other kind of weasels. She had cats, and dogs. Her heels were low, her hair was sleek, and she was still fashionable.
So when she received the message it sort of pissed her off.
Dear Weasel Woman,
Hi Lorena. I hope after all these years you are still weird and HOT. Do you still have weasels?
I was wondering if you could do me a favor. I’m trying to get in touch with Justin Kilpatrick. I know you had a thing with him. He had some information I need.
~ Bob Warren
She answered.
Bob,
They were ferrets. Unfortunately, Justin passed away years ago. Fuck you.
Lorena’s husband came downstairs and kissed her.
“Morning darlin. What Cha doing?”
“Just answering emails. I got a message from Bob Warren. I told him you were dead. Hope you don’t mind.”
Justin laughed. “I’m making coffee. You want some?”
“That would be awesome,” Lorena said.
“Did you really tell him I was dead?”
“Yes I did.”
“Good for you,” said Justin. “Good for for you.”
~ end
~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman
Vampire Maman 