faster pussycat... type! type!

Um... count again! Mine WAS 50, and the one you posted is only 46.

dammit! i was going by the word count in ecto... i didn't count them by hand. that's why i was so surprised that you would give me a story of 53 words. i should have known something was up when i thought i removed two words and it showed i had only removed one.

ok... i'm a bad girl. i deserve to be punished for my sloppiness. i will replace the story with the original unedited version.

How many times, Oh Lord, down the tunnel of shame, how many days repeating the same mistakes? What Fancy Foot Work Will Save Us Now? The memories of the days past fade, but are replaced in sleep by dreams; bodies that speak and that move; slowly melt in coming dawn. He dreamt of her again last night. He had written her a month ago. She returned asking that he not write back.

*crossing fingers that no one posts before her*

She needed a vacation. The sooner the better; she couldn't afford another 'incident' on her permanent record. No one liked to hire a temperamental pixie. Well, except for the Temperamental Pixie Brigade. They were always looking for new recruits. Where was her pixie godmother union rep when she needed her?

It’s not fair. She was stuck in a radish patch, while her slutty cousin, Tinkerbell, was a movie star. That’s it, she was tired of the dew and the dirt. She was definitely tired of Priscilla and her pompous pulchritude. She was blowing this radish patch and hitting the road!

Vegas’s where the money was so she headed out in the middle of the night. She’d hit a few big wins on the slot machines and she could live fine for a while. Expect the whole town is pixie proof. No cash. She told herself the stripping wasn’t so bad.

At first, it was simply wiggle on the pole, strip, collect the cash then leave. But soon everyone wanted more and more. Soon she was doing erotic shower dances with Thumbelina who was a "method actress." She found counsel in a whiskey bottle, and she discovered she liked the conversation.

Since there is nothing sadder than a pickled pixie, some of her “regulars” stopped coming around to see her dance. Her tips dried up and soon, she was dropped from the schedule at Pete’s House of Preternatural Perversions. Plum out of luck, Pippen decided it was time for a change..

She found herself thumbing it to LA, the city of lights and fame. A 18 wheeler hit the air brakes and slid to a stop. Pippen ran, since it was fucking hot and her pixie dust was melting. She eagerly climbed up.

"Well, hello there little lady ... need a lift?"

Iam sure that my cat, myself have just declared war on each other, she fucked up, i brought down the law, and we stared at each other, squinted eyes both, Hell Yes, this is big!

Pippen found that when you get a ride from a trucker, you also get a hot meal. As she milked the last drops of nectar from his now flaccid member, Pippen slipped a few twenties from his wallet. Now in LA with cash in hand, she finally had her chance!