Trixie break bottle to challenge Fancy the night the boy come and start to work Back Bar. It was like stick fight and the two drew power from the crowd. The lines were drawn and the crowd behind each stepped quickly, swirling and shuffling, a liquid unit behind them as they as a postured, throwing long shadows into the corners. Some of the people were out for laughs others out for blood. Most of them were looking for a kinda passive vengeance at some slight or hurt feel from either Trixie or Fancy that they hadn’t the courage to carve out for themselves. It was an ancient dance, slow and rhythmic, with sudden syncopation like lightening when they sliced the air with their chosen bois. Fancy’s was the long barbershop razor she kept hidden in her breasts that she released with a soft flick as Trixie had break her bottle. Is like she know what was coming. The signs was showing that night. The noise of the crowd pierced through everything: crying screaming women, men laughing,...
Last night I dreamt my sister and I starring in a scripted
comedy/reality competition alongside Melissa McCarthy and PDiddy in the Soca
Kingdom for a World Cup Machel Monday of epic Proportion.
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