Week Woman

A Pox on the Patriarchy

Novelettes

The sweat patches under Stuart’s arms had spread almost right down to his seething waistband. He undid his tie and belt and let his cheap suit trousers puddle around his ankles. It was not enough. He ripped open his shirt and poured the cooling remnants of the coffee pot down his gleaming chest hair.

The investors gaped.

6 comments on “Novelettes

  1. Week Woman
    July 21, 2012

    My dear vicar. On your head (literally) be it. I shall send said galumphing elephant your way. Please do not contact me after she has munched through your larder and your fine lady wife. Consider yourself warned.

    • TheVicar
      July 21, 2012

      My ‘fine lady wife’ is as ungodly as they come, the kinky b**ch. She’s well into a bit of lady-munching.

      • Week Woman
        July 21, 2012

        Touché vicar. Touché.

  2. TheVicar
    July 21, 2012

    I should very much like to invite the authoress of this brilliant and inspired ‘novelette’ to tea at the Vicarage.

    • Week Woman
      July 21, 2012

      Hello there vicar. Unfortunately she’s not nearly as picturesque as the accompanying image suggests. Quite dumpy really. I shall quite understand if you wish to therefore retract your kind offer and shall take no further steps unless you contact me again. In Godliness, WeekWoman.

      • TheVicar
        July 21, 2012

        Oh, but you misunderstand my intentions, dear lady. The larger the better: scones and cakes shall of course be provided in divine abundance. A Last Supper of Apocalyptic proportions, one might say.

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This entry was posted on July 20, 2012 by in Novelettes and tagged , , , .
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