Hell In A Hand Basket

She threw the paper chicken at his head, and stormed angrily out of the room. She slammed the door so hard that it shook the dangling crystals on the chandelier.
The paper chicken had lodged in his hair. When he turned to walk toward the window,  the paper chicken fell first to his shoulder, and then fluttered to the plushly carpeted floor without a sound.
When he got to the window, he parted the heavy drapes. He looked down to see her pulling away on her Vespa scooter. He let the drapes slowly fall away from his fingers. He turned around and walked over to where the paper chicken lay. He bent over and picked it up. He took it over to the cork bulletin board that hung by the wall phone. He pulled out one of the push pins, a red one, and he speared the paper chicken to the board.
CountSpatula CountSpatula
46-50, F
6 Responses Sep 4, 2010

I'm loving this sense of humor. Although if you're going to make a entrance into hell, I'd select a vehicle more masculine than a hand basket. I can just see those demons now, "Oh boy here comes another one in a hand basket. We'll have to put him in block E with the other hand baskets." That's probably the part of hell you don't want to be in.

Good thinking. Plus, can you imagine how quickly a hand basket would go up in flames?

Good point. I hadn't considered that. With everything else going on, I bet fire safety gets overlooked a lot by people entering hell. Its up to us to raise awareness.

This is sweet!

The paper chicken now pegged as just another incomplete recipe on the bulletin board.

poor chicken little ...

It is the ravings of a mad spatula.

Love it!