(written by me:)
My throbbing calves carried me back to my apartment where once inside I shut the door and collapsed on my Q-Bert bean bag chair. It was a tender relic from the past I refused to give up no matter how it clashed with my Rachel Ashwell shabby chic decor. I'd lost my innocence on that bean bag chair and no one could take that away from me. Maybe Jovan would be the next man I would lose my innocence to. What would I wear? Glaring at the Wii Fit, I stalked to my closet and threw open the door.
(written by OfficeGnome:)
"Egads! what are you doing here?!?" I squealed at the intruder, like a wild boar approaching his prey. I hurriedly shut the door in a panic. How could this have happened to me, on today of all days? I took a long deep breath, and tried to pull myself together. It was just a spider afterall. The daddy long-legs had made my closet its new lair and I was going to have to face my fear if I was going to put on my perfect sexy tube dress and make it to Jovan's show in time for the royal procession.I flipped through my mail looking for the appropriate weapon. The magazine issue I had been waiting for had arrived, but there was no way I was going to use it to bludgeon the bug. Ahah! My new Vermont Country Store catalog would do the trick. I hated that crap anyway.I flung open the closet door and then like a medieval warrior, I smashed the critter with all my might. The catalog was a lance and the spider was the black knight that I had sworn to assassinate. I was a murderer. And now it was time to get dressed to kill.
(written by Carrie:)
I tossed the be-smeared catalog aside and flipped through the fabulous fashion file of my closet. My evening looks and club wear were nestled in the back corner of the closet, a plush treasure trove of crushed velvet, ruched satin, cubic zirconiae, and draped tencel. Regularly adding new looks to my twilight repertoire was a fulfilling and healthy hobby of mine, no matter what my financial counselor said. Where was my perfect sexy tube dress?? I was starting to panic and sweat heavily as I swatted aside several polyester halter tops. This couldn't be happening. Not tonight. I could feel my stomach plummeting like a barrel over the Lower Falls of the Grand Canyon. It wasn't there! My brain suddenly screamed with the partial memory of that wild night at Coka Cabana's. I had been wearing the tube dress when we took that baking sheet, can of hairspray, and lighter fluid out to the steep hill behind the club. Regrettably, my memory ended there. I was going to have to both improvise and compromise with my fashion choice.