Holly Gofugly

Audrey, Audrey, Audrey. We haven't talked in what seems like years. How have you been?

Really? Oh. Sorry to hear that.

Well, being dead for a decade is really no excuse for going out in public like this. Really, Audrey, what were you thinking?

First of all, what's with the bling-bling? Are you trying to establish your hip-hop street cred? Sorry, darling. It's just not working. You're about as "street" as one of the Olsen twins. The "serious" one, not the party girl. She might be passable.

And what's the story behind that cigarette holder? What exactly are you smoking? No, wait--judging by how you're dressed, I think I know. Shhhh--it'll be our little secret.

Now, on to the gloves. Are they your little tribute to Michael Jackson? That's in poor taste, Audrey. Really not funny. Take them off. Good. Now put them in the drawer. That's right. And now, set the drawer on fire. That's it--good girl.

And who's doing your makeup these days? Trowel Masters? Honestly, Audrey, how are you going to get that off tonight? An industrial-size drum of Ponds Cold Cream?

Well, Audrey, I'm truly glad we had this little talk, and I hope you've learned something. Oh, and that guy you're seeing? In the book, he's gay.


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