Hollywood Nunkies by Cousin Mel Imagine you are a famous actress up for an academy award. Basking in all the luxury of of the rich and powerful: Glitzy Versace gown, jewels from Harry Winston, Hair by Laurent of the exclusive Prive salon. You sit in your chair confident and assured, yet still excited over what is happening to you. John Travolta and Nicolas Cage read off the list of nominees. You keep yourself composed, looking beautiful and flashing that self-assured yet modest smile that endears you to your fans. Of course, inside you are jumping for joy, your stomach doing flip-flops as you hear your name being announced to a celebrity-studded crowd and being broadcast to millions of viewers. Finally, the moment of anticipation comes. Though it has been barely minutes, it is glorious agony to you. Cage opens the envelope and reads your name aloud; you can barely believe it. You rise up, and kiss your agent, your mother, your escort. You rush up on stage quickly and efficiently, trying hard not to scamper like a little bunny, you are so elated. You shake hands and exchange kisses with the two handsome actors, awaiting your little gold statuette. But instead of an Oscar, your prize is a Lucien, Lucien LaCroix to be exact. His magnificient gladiator's body is covered head to toe in edible gold metallic paint. And the only clothing gracing his ripped form are his black Manolo Blahnik shoes. Gripping your hand, Nunkies whispers in your ear, "Let me take you backstage and give you your REAL reward......" ************************************************************************* Lets just say that this prize certainly beats some dinky little statuette and a little bit o' press -- Cousin Mel *Cousin*Dark Knightie*Dark Nattie*Valentine*NVC*NA*Lucius Wench*Dark Trinity*Ravenette Wannabe*TPoCB Survivalist*Kronic Kronkoholic*Keeper of the Blessed Cat o' Nine Tails* cuznmel@usaor.net, Penchk68@aol.com, CousinMel@aol.com, darkmiss@juno.com "I gots me too many e-mail addys, but it could be worse...I could have none at all"