Salve! My name is Gabriella Parker. If you are rich, you may call me Riella. If you are rich, between the ages of eighteen and twenty-four, and a single male, you may call me Ri. If you call me Gabby, I will kick you in whatever place I think will hurt you most. Understood? Good. Amber decided that she had a headache, so I get to do the update tonight. We Parkers believe that it is a sign of weakness to leave records of our thoughts and experiences- it shows a need for the material in order to survive. But who am I to judge my creator?
Right, of course, Amber reminds me that I am not here to ramble to you. You should see her, curled up on the couch, drinking iced tea like she was the Queen of the World. It’s almost shameful that she had reduced me to her blogging assistant. Especially without compensating me!
I suppose I should just get this over with. I’ll just copy out her notes. I swear, she owes me a manicure after all this: all this typing is doing horrendous things to my poor, perfect fingernails.
She says that I should say something witty about the good, bad, and the ugly people of the week. I’m going to skip that part.
I think this says Blueberries and Cream. Yes? She says yes. Her note after “Blueberries and Cream” is: I was having a bad day. She gave me a hug and left me blueberries. I’m not fond of all the little seeds in blueberries, and I tend to avoid hugs, so that must be a bad one. Next-
Oh. Amber says I have to illustrate. Use my imagination. Also that Blueberries and Cream was an “angel”. She really used that word. What. A. Sap.
NEXT. Someone called “Captain Hook”. I don’t really understand that name, but okay. Apparently Captain Hook tried to cut people in line and was yelling because she couldn’t stomach the idea of “I am working with someone, I will be with you in a minute.” Hmm. Anyways. Moving on.
There is someone called Back From the Dead here, and I’m not really sure the purpose of the name, but Amber insists that I leave it be. She says it has a special connotation to herself. Apparently this zombie person spent a great deal of time complaining about things that are beyond our control such as the weather and how quickly a photocopier prints out a copy. According to these notes, she expected to be monetarily compensated for the inconvenience of her own poor planning, as well as the levels of humidity and items she ruined herself. The notes on this person are really rather difficult to read, they have been scribbled ferociously. Apparently Amber was incredibly hurt by this zombie-woman’s behavior. That’s nice. Moving on.
Oh, lovely. There is nothing more.
Well, then, since that is the case, I am going to dismiss myself and go take a nice long beauty nap. One can never have enough beauty naps. Mother dearest always said that napping is good for the skin, and goodness knows that my shining complexion needs constant maintenance or else I’ll just fall to pieces.
Arrivederci!
.
.
Author’s Note: Riella is a character I used once on a Potter-verse-sort-of roleplaying forum. I thought I’d try to spice things up a little bit by doing this week’s Thank You (Now Get Out) in a different voice. I hope nobody hates it!
Much love,
Amber
Feathers & Fangs 