Tammy Bobbins
As sure as the sun rose in the light blue and fluffy, he was just plain Trevor Cockins, and as sure as the sun set in the murky black below, she was Tammy Bobbins.
Nibble on feet and danced the fandango with the best of them, admittedly on her own in his rented apartment but nevertheless her heels were on fire.
Licking the floor with lava filled footprints and leaving vapor trails across the bedroom floor.
Trevor slumped himself down on the corner of his bed and as he did Tammy Bobbins also perched herself down ever so prim and proper like and smiled back at him from the full length mirror which had seen better days that leant up against the wall, which if truth be told was the only thing stopping the cracked and crumbling wall from falling down.
Trevor pulled the cheap pink nylon wig from his head and wiped the sweat from his brow, lifed his right buttock and farted.
Tammy very carefully and with the delicate touch of a child's heart surgeon replaced the one strand of hair that had fallen from rank back into place, opened a small clutch purse and pulled out a rather antique looking perfume atomiser and puffed the air.
"Same time next week Trevor?"
Tammy asked politely, swirling her arm and hand around in the air as she coughed.
Trevor looked at the rose colored glass bottle in his hand and gently squeezed it.
"This was my Mum's..."
(Thanks for reading my tall tale, although not far from the truth for some.)
