Oliver Pockets
04-19-2010, 05:04 PM
Part First:
Little Bo Peep was, in reality, quite large. In fact the adjective "large", is assuredly the wrong word; massive is a much better term.
Little Bo Peep was massive.
She was a strange girl, a girl that you would remember if you saw. She was tall, approximately 6 feet and four inches. She was chubby, rotund, hefty, obese, whale-like, elephantine and gargantuan (thank you thesaurus).
Little Bo Peep was FAT.
She clothed herself in a mustard yellow parka, with a fur lined hood, beneath which, her greasy tallowed hair spilled like a fork full of noodles.
She wore a blue mini skirt, complemented by a brown leather belt that had extra rounds of ammunition stuck into it, like a picket fence on a sunshiny Sunday morning.
On her feet where two brightly colored flip flops. She wore flip flops to show off her painted toe nails. The toe nails where especially interesting, each colored with the flag of her favorite Scandinavian country, Norway of course.
Bo Peep was heavily armed. She carried a SCAR H assault rifle over her left shoulder and in her left hand, a compound bow that was capable of taking down an adult male gorilla.
Little Bo Peep had a beautiful singing voice, of which she was immensely proud. I mention this because the first time I encountered Bo, it was her singing that made me turn. Her astounding appearance lengthened my stare by an ungodly amount of time.
Bo Peep was walking, her flip flops smacking and clapping at every step. Her ammunition belt jingling and her beautiful falsetto singing voice serenading the two muddy oxen that followed her.
The oxen where, as previously stated muddy, but underneath the mud I could see blue shapes and lines painted onto their heaving hides. Beneath the paint, a crisscrossing pattern of scars in various stages of healing.
The oxen were yoked together at the neck, attached to the yoke was a harness system that pulled an old wagon. Stored inside the wagon was a various assortment of odds and ends, old pieces of furniture, broken musical instruments, pots and pans, a blanket and most noticeable of all, a girl, sitting atop an old bucket, looking to be around the age of 19 or 20. She was a very thin and tall girl, dark skin, large brown eyes, head framed by long brown hair that curled in a most interesting and captivating way. She was the most delicate, and elegant human being that I had ever seen.
Little Bo Peep flopped her way down the road by which I stood starring at this captivating parade, not glancing at me or anything else for that matter. The oxen on the left turned its head to the left and stared me in the eye. It seemed to be trying to say 'you wouldn't have a spare carrot perchance? I'm awfully hungry!' I responded: Sorry friend, I ate my last carrot days ago!
The sound of my voice was like blaring baby's cry in a church service, out of place, and not appreciated by the old women in the front row.
Little Bo Peep ceased her rhythmic feet clapping and turned her massive head to look down at me. Her eyes burned with anger, her forehead burned red with intense passion. She screamed at me in her beautiful falsetto voice "DON'T FEED THE OXEN!!!" To which I responded "I haven't done anything of the sort!". Bo Peep turned to the girl on the wagon and said "SARAH NORMAL FACE! DID YOU SEE ANY EXCHANGE OF PRODUCE GOING ON BETWEEN OUR OX AND THIS STRANGER?"
Sarah Normal Face, the beautiful girl gave her head a quick shake from side to side.
To which Little Bo Peep immediately followed up with "NEVER FEED MY OXEN WITHOUT FIRST CONSULTING ME!"
"I wouldn't think of it" said I.
And with that the parade started again. Sarah Normal Face stared intently at the ground around my feet as the oxen pulled her wagon down the road, away from me, to be seemingly forever gone...
And so ended my first encounter with Little Bo Peep and Sarah Normal Face.
Little Bo Peep was, in reality, quite large. In fact the adjective "large", is assuredly the wrong word; massive is a much better term.
Little Bo Peep was massive.
She was a strange girl, a girl that you would remember if you saw. She was tall, approximately 6 feet and four inches. She was chubby, rotund, hefty, obese, whale-like, elephantine and gargantuan (thank you thesaurus).
Little Bo Peep was FAT.
She clothed herself in a mustard yellow parka, with a fur lined hood, beneath which, her greasy tallowed hair spilled like a fork full of noodles.
She wore a blue mini skirt, complemented by a brown leather belt that had extra rounds of ammunition stuck into it, like a picket fence on a sunshiny Sunday morning.
On her feet where two brightly colored flip flops. She wore flip flops to show off her painted toe nails. The toe nails where especially interesting, each colored with the flag of her favorite Scandinavian country, Norway of course.
Bo Peep was heavily armed. She carried a SCAR H assault rifle over her left shoulder and in her left hand, a compound bow that was capable of taking down an adult male gorilla.
Little Bo Peep had a beautiful singing voice, of which she was immensely proud. I mention this because the first time I encountered Bo, it was her singing that made me turn. Her astounding appearance lengthened my stare by an ungodly amount of time.
Bo Peep was walking, her flip flops smacking and clapping at every step. Her ammunition belt jingling and her beautiful falsetto singing voice serenading the two muddy oxen that followed her.
The oxen where, as previously stated muddy, but underneath the mud I could see blue shapes and lines painted onto their heaving hides. Beneath the paint, a crisscrossing pattern of scars in various stages of healing.
The oxen were yoked together at the neck, attached to the yoke was a harness system that pulled an old wagon. Stored inside the wagon was a various assortment of odds and ends, old pieces of furniture, broken musical instruments, pots and pans, a blanket and most noticeable of all, a girl, sitting atop an old bucket, looking to be around the age of 19 or 20. She was a very thin and tall girl, dark skin, large brown eyes, head framed by long brown hair that curled in a most interesting and captivating way. She was the most delicate, and elegant human being that I had ever seen.
Little Bo Peep flopped her way down the road by which I stood starring at this captivating parade, not glancing at me or anything else for that matter. The oxen on the left turned its head to the left and stared me in the eye. It seemed to be trying to say 'you wouldn't have a spare carrot perchance? I'm awfully hungry!' I responded: Sorry friend, I ate my last carrot days ago!
The sound of my voice was like blaring baby's cry in a church service, out of place, and not appreciated by the old women in the front row.
Little Bo Peep ceased her rhythmic feet clapping and turned her massive head to look down at me. Her eyes burned with anger, her forehead burned red with intense passion. She screamed at me in her beautiful falsetto voice "DON'T FEED THE OXEN!!!" To which I responded "I haven't done anything of the sort!". Bo Peep turned to the girl on the wagon and said "SARAH NORMAL FACE! DID YOU SEE ANY EXCHANGE OF PRODUCE GOING ON BETWEEN OUR OX AND THIS STRANGER?"
Sarah Normal Face, the beautiful girl gave her head a quick shake from side to side.
To which Little Bo Peep immediately followed up with "NEVER FEED MY OXEN WITHOUT FIRST CONSULTING ME!"
"I wouldn't think of it" said I.
And with that the parade started again. Sarah Normal Face stared intently at the ground around my feet as the oxen pulled her wagon down the road, away from me, to be seemingly forever gone...
And so ended my first encounter with Little Bo Peep and Sarah Normal Face.