“Minnie,
have we lost our minds… I mean our……” I heard Daisy well. I was having my mud
bath with the lemonade drink within reach of my upper limbs. I have no concern
on my surrounding for it was perfect then or it was until Daisy turned up.
“Our
male counterpart. Alas, I do not feel their presence now and then. Are they in
any danger of extinction?” I reached for the drink and then took a sip.
Lemonade was nice when tucked in with the cubes of ice. That exquisite drink
dropped some on my swim suit; a two piece that Mickey would not allowed me to
wear at the pool. He said it will rip our ratings from Kids to SX. I argued
that we have live out with the timeline. Mickey threw a fit and it was not our
first argument on the matter. He had taken leave of me, along with his friend,
Donald. I disliked Donald for he was giving Daisy a hard time.
“Minnie,
the boys are gone. I can’t find Donald or his cranky blue shade car, that would
pollute the neighborhood for days with the terrible fumes. Boy, did he fumed
when I refused his advances during that stormy night ride. Mickey left me to
his good pal when he wanted to jam with his goof out friends. It was a short
ride but boy, did that duck took the opportunity to seduce me.
“I am
not into affairs with M’s friends, Duck.” I made my statement then when he his
amorous advances were denied. He went into his frantic behavior but it was
funny then for his pants was down to his knees, and he was likeable at best
there. Boy, was I generous that night.
‘I am
Daisy’s friend, and we were at your consummation day when the two of you peck
beaks.” I reminded the idiot then. He went on with his drunken rage that he was
deprived of his freedom. I had enough and walked back in the rain. It mellowed
my anger then but to be home to see Mickey lounging at the settee when I opened
the door. That was still bearable but he voiced out his request then blew me
up.
“oh,
hello Minnie. How about a blow here? I am watching ‘Polly gets her dolly in the
pulley with Dudley’.” I flew into a rage and tossed the wet hair piece I had on
and told him to ‘pulley yourself with this’.
That
was it. Since 1927, we have been the ‘adorable’ pair, the ‘paire parfaite’. The
one where he was known as ‘Steamboat Willie’. He was one then and now; all
steam and no heat to the Willie. I was younger then, fresh out from the litter,
and work was tough then. I was tending at diners and flashing my boobs to get
the extra tips. Heck, I had to work braless to get the heavy breaths to pay. Mickey
arrived and took one look before he introduced me to the films. All I did was
scream and lifted my skirt…. I had the decency to wear my bloomers. It was only
down off the scene. We had some good moments; I was not into kids and Mickey he
was not keen either. We did it the safe way…. I guess he contributed millions
and yet we made none.
‘’Minnie,
I can’t live without him. He is all I have. He held the viewer rights and me, I
am just the standby star. I have no permanent slot in the films.” Daisy cried
onto my shoulder. Funny, it was for we have never cried on in the films. We do
it in the ponds or the rain.
“Let
us paint the city red.” I voiced out. “You can call the others in Toon Town.
Tell them we are having a costume party.”
Soon
there was the pack and among the invited were the delicious listing here;
Clarabelle Cow in her red blouse and green boomers, Madeline Mouse; the blonde
but she was not dumb, my nieces; Melody and Millie alongside with Angela,
Giselle (1956), and Mildred Mouse (1955), and from Daisy’s family, there was
Clara Duck (1934), Penny Beagle; the relation of the Beagles Boys, Stella
Curfew even flew in from the Finland when she heard of the party.
“Could
we join in?” I saw the roosters crooning; the Rockhead Rooster doing it on behalf
of the Cocks United; among them was Emil Eagle; misled by the breeding, Gyro Gearloose
the Inventive Chicken, Panchito Pistoles; the fat chicken-faced tycoon standing
there gyrating the hips. They soon burst out into the number by Elvis Presley; “rubbernecking”.
“Sorry,
lads. I am taking the ladies to paint the town red, and it ain’t Toon Town. So stick
your rubbery dick inside you.” I sympathized with them horny brats but we are
going to bay at Looney Tunes. I heard names like Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, the
Tasmanian Devil, Porky Pig, Sylvester Mel Blanc or we just called him Pussy
Cat, Marvin the Martian; he ain’t no alien down below and explosive Yosemite
Sam, Foghorn Leghorn, and Wilie E.Coyote. Those were the names which we could
squeezed on without losing our cherries. Or was it?
“Filly
my feathers!” I swore I heard Daisy in her baby doll dress swooned over Daffy
Duck doubling with Foghorn Leghorn. You can deny Fog lived up to his reputation
with his finger licking good then…I meant beak. I was with my girls, Angela,
Giselle and Mildred then taking the Martian around the Sun more than twice.
“Naida!
Naida!” Stella was moaning out loud then in her native language. Who wouldn’t
when the bearded Yosemite Sam was tonguing on them canyons there with his explosive
twirls.
It was
not truly our doing that attracted the boys then but it was the carnival mood
there; the Brazilian Rio Carnival have arrived there. Naturally, the ladies in
us took to the wax treatment who needs a strand to spoil the looks, and then it
was the costume dressing. I told the girls; ‘we ain’t in Toons, so all tools
are off.” I went for a scanty boa feather look with the stunning head gear on
my head and left the imagination on the neck below. I am telling you the
conservative Daisy have to be struggled off her bra in a girl’s brawl with
Madeline; darn she is blonde upstairs and down. Penny Beagle was in her
familiar shades; leather lashes bounded that will invoke the pussy in the cat. When
she meowed, the boys all spurted on the draw.
The night
drew to the next and the next, neither of us remembering the daylights. We had
the town croaking or spunking that the Carnival was re-themed ‘Puss on boots’. It
was actually Clarabelle Cow in boots and leather attire, stepping on Bugs while
telling him; ‘shove your carrot or I will garrote you with boot lace’.
We staggered
back to Toon’s Town and slept in our own bed. It matters not if the boys turned
up dead or alive, we had our time done.
“Darn,
I left my panty hose there.” I knew of this when I got the email from Sylvester
the Pussy telling me then. The pussy had it twisted around his back right paws.
And then came another email that time was from Tweety the Birdie.
“I
smelled a panty hose some where.”
