Shandy couldn't help but burst into peals of derisive laughter. "Oh, you canNOT be serious," she scoffed at her statuesque nemesis. "'Revenge is a dish best served cold'...? Admit it, you've been rehearsing that speech clear across the Pacific. Oh Cashmere, you're still as full of crap as you were back in Boiling Springs."
Cashmere flicked her Sunset Over Miami Beach blonde tresses. "I am telling you Delwood," she seethed, "our life-long fued? It ends here and it ends NOW."
"Oh puh-lease, you didn't scare me at Miss Hathaway's School of Deportment and Grooming For Lovely Young Southern Belles, and you don't scare me now. Just what do you intend to do, huh?" Shandy snapped her fingers at Cashmere. "Blowdry me to death?"
A sour smile played on Cashmere Dupree's lips. If Shandy wasn't mistaken, Cashmere had plastered them with Dior Addict High Shine Lipstick Sheer Rose 147. Damn! That girl sure knew her lippies. It was a gorgeous, shimmering shade but, as per usual, Cashmere had over-applied. "Miss Prissy," Cashmere announced, "it's time to do your thing."
Iva screamed, Carmene screamed louder, and in a way that told Shandy that she was back to holding her tits again. Honestly, those two were such a pair of drama queens. Suddenly a steely glare of silver flashed in the corner of Shandy's eye. She turned her head to see Prissy brandishing a knife. It was one of those switchblades that Shandy herself had used 3 years ago in the smash-hit, sold-out run of "West Side Sassies" that had played at Sassy Palms for a record-breaking 4 months. Only this time something told Shandy that this weren't no fake stage knife that Prissy was waving at her.
"I's gonna git yer ass," Prissy muttered, almost trance-like. "I's gonna slice it to ribbons and then I's gonna take those ribbons and I's gonna put them in my hair. All perdy-perdy like."
"Shandy," Iva croaked, "I think she means business."
"You got that right, you skinny skank of a hoochie ho's cooch. I's from the streets. Knifin' is mah bizness. And when I'm done wid dis one," Prissy swiped the air with her switchblade in Shandy's direction, "I's gonna come after you two honky-ass bitches." Iva and Carmene screamed again, this time in surprisingly harmonious union.
"You get away from my girls!" Shandy screamed. Like a sleek leopard (well, a sleek drag queen in a leopard print cat-suit at any rate) Shandy launched herself into the air between Prissy and Cashmere. She rolled onto the deliciously soft salmon swirl carpeting just next to the crystal topped coffee table. In a blur she grabbed the stun-wah Japanese porcelain vase that sat on the table. It was a pity to have to destroy it but this was a fight to the death! With laser like precision she hurled it at Prissy's head.
But Miss Prissy Louella Cottonwood was quicker on her feet than Shandy could ever have anticipated. She catapulted herself towards Shandy like a winged rhinoceros landing beside the divine divan that matched the darling Danish davenport behind Shandy. Without even so much as stopping to draw breath, let alone for a dozen donuts, Prissy threw the knife straight at Shandy's forehead. At the last, nail-biting moment, Shandy turned her head to the right. She heard a WHOOSH! followed by a sickening thud. She went to leap to her feet but something was stopping her.
"Shandy!" Iva called out. "Her knife! It's pinned you to that darling Danish davenport! She's got you by your hairdo!"
"Nobody touches this hairdo without my say so!" Shandy declared. She reached up and grabbed the handle of Prissy's switchblade and yanked it out with the strength of an Amazon woman. She sprung to her feet and pointed the knife towards Prissy. "So, the kid-leather autumn-hue party-pump Manolo's are on the other foot now, aren't they?" she taunted her sister.
Shandy made a lunge in Prissy's direction but Prissy's frown turned into a smirk as she reached up into the sleeve of her blouse and pulled out another knife. "Yo is stoopider than yo look ifn yo think that I's only got me one knife. I done told you: I's street wise in ways yo ain't even dreamed about." The two sisters circled each other like a pair of wary lionesses. Around and around they crept, closer and closer they edged until they were a little more than a knife's slash from each other's décolletage.
"Oh for god's sake will one of you make a move?" Cashmere demanded. "This is starting to drag on for way too long."
That's when Shandy made her fatal error. She glanced across at Cashmere to see that she had a bottle of French champers in her hand. That's when Prissy made her move. In a blindingly black blur, Prissy shot towards Shandy. Shandy felt a flabby arm encase her neck and pulled her down to the shagpile. The arm around her throat squeezed harder and harder, cutting off her all oxygen and - worst of all - totally ruining what was left of the $150 bouffant she'd paid for less than two days before. Shandy looked up to see Prissy raise her knife high into the air, ready to slam it down between her fun pillows. She closed her eyes and prepared herself for the final end. An image of Dirk swam before her. He was naked and writhing on her bed, his enormous manliness bulging with anticipation. He was groaning with ecstasy and calling out her name. What a bummer they hadn't made time for one last root. Spewin' buckets, eh?
But instead of the sound of Prissy grunting as she plunged her knife in, Shandy heard the pop of a cork. Say wha...? She opened her eyes to see Cashmere pouring out the bubbly into five champagne flutes. "Oh Shandy," Cashmere tsk-tsked, "you really don't think your long lost sister would kill you the very hour she finally meets you?"
Prissy let out a throaty laugh and helped Shandy to her feet. "No way, sister-gurl. We just playing wid choo!" Iva and Carmene each let out twittering gurgles of nervous laughter. "So," Iva said, "Miss Prissy here won't be slaughtering us like spring lambs at the Melbourne Show?"
Cashmere handed them the flutes. "I'm sure I have no idea what a Melbourne Show is, but no, there shall be no slaughtering here today. Chin-chin!"
After what she'd been through, Shandy could do with a glass or four of bubbly. She drained her flute of champers in one thirsty gulp. "This is the good stuff!" she declared to her suddenly former arch enemy. "Any more...?"
But as she thrust her glass towards Cashmere, suddenly everything blurred. She felt light-headed and her heart began to beat even harder than when Dirk was behind her, pounding her doggy style with the relentlessness of an insatiable bull.
And then she blanked out.
* * *
It was impossible to know how long she'd been laying on the butter-soft shag pile. She lifted her throbbing head to see Iva and Carmene sprawled out like a couple of buffaloes laying in the sun. She called their names, but they didn't respond. She pulled herself up to the divine divan and tried to catch her breath. What happened? Where was Cashmere and Prissy? Oh, her head! How it pummeled her so!
She called out Iva and Carmene's names again; this time they stirred. Groaning, they came slowly to life. "Girls!" Shandy called out to them and she struggled to get upright. "I think we've been drugged."
Shandy's announcement shocked them both into wakefulness. Carmene let off a snarl. "I knew it was too good to be true when that Prissy didn't plunge her knife into your guts."
"Oh yeah," Shandy responded, "And thanks to the both of youse for coming to my rescue. Your assistance was invaluable."
"But...but...but..." the pair of them stuttered but Shandy dismissed them with another of her haughty snaps. "Let's get out of here."
"Wait!" Iva screeched. "I want to see if there are any chockies on the pillow. I love those things."
Shandy watched as Iva scooted into Cashmere's bedroom. A few moments went by, then a few moments more, but Iva didn't appear. "Don't make me come in there after you," Shandy growled.
"You'd better get in here!" Iva called from the bedroom. "Both of you."
Impatiently, Shandy and Carmene crossed the living-room and entered Cashmere's vast boudoir. "HOLY SHIT!" Carmene exclaimed. Holy shit indeed for Cashmere's bedroom was awash with huge sheets of paper. "What are these?" Carmene asked.
"They're architectural plans," Iva replied, impressing Shandy that she'd have even the slightest clue.
"Of what?"
Shandy pulled the top sheet off the pile on the bed and studied it for a moment. Then she let out a horrified "OH MY JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!"
"What is it? What is it???"
Shandy pulled another sheet, then another. "We've got to go!" she ordered her two glamazon assistants. She raced out of the bedroom beckoning the others to follow. "We've got to get to work!"
"Now?" Carmene whined. "Is there a rehearsal or something...?"
Shandy unfurled one of the architectural plans so that Iva and Carmene could see. "These are plans for the Sassy Palms! And these lines here..." She traced a series of parallel lines with her 2-inch nails slathered in Revlon Sweet Nothings Peachy Keen #7 lacquer by her new nail girl Quan Yee who really does do such an excellent job. "This is the wiring."
"Oh?" Carmene responded brightly. "We're getting new wiring? Well, it's about bloody time. Running around back stage with our Rampant Rio Carnivale headdresses last year, I just about--"
"No you witless ninny!" Shandy snapped. "Once the wiring is cut, the fire alarm is no longer connected. Cashmere and Prissy lured us here and drugged us to get us out of the way. They're going to torch the Sassy Palms and we must stop them!!!!"
