Multi-plex

“Claptrap!” she said. “You’re a claptrap-producing, finger-pricked, jezebel whore without a damn worth in this world!”

“Excuse me?” Ms. Horace responded. “Do you know how many men I have slept with in my short career as a woman?”

“Like I give a damn you dirty, gonorrhea-oozing miscreant!”

“You should be a bit more respectful to women who have seen the world,” added Ms. Horace. “I have seen more than seventy percent of the 1001 Things To See Before You Die. You should admire that.”

“So you think just because you tear down a temple you can build the eighth wonder?”

“The Eiffel Tower was a joke,” Ms. Horace rolled off her tongue with a scoff. “I’ve seen far more respectable constructions in my life.”

“Girl, you probably seen things far wider than the Grand Canyon for all that I can imagine,” said Mrs. C. “I can play the Discovery Channel game myself all day long. HBO, TNT, National Geographic – but you don’t see me pluggin’ in new batteries every other day!”

“Listen, honey,” Ms. Horace said. “I know—“

“Who you callin’ honey? Suga’? I may like biscuits but I surely don’t let them sweeten up themselves.”

“Wha--? Biscuits?” stammered Ms. Horace. “Who--? What? Are you on —?“

“Suga’, a word of advice,” Mrs. C calmly said. “I know about the good stuff. I know about the biscuits. I know there are Seven Wonders in the World. I even know where to buy those endearing, lil’ caps that look cute on little boys. Trust me, I’ve been there.”

Ms. Horace was counting the rays of the sun.

“Suga!”

Her eyes came back down to earth.

“If you ever want to survive in this world like a normal human being that realizes that were are seven wonders to this world and not eight – you will listen to me when I talk to your worthless cavity of brainless substance!”

“But… Mrs. C—“ Ms. Horace began to say.

“But. What.”

“Heh,” giggled Ms. Horace.

Mrs. C looked displeasingly puzzled.

“Made ya say it.”