“Hi Jake!” called Midge as she sauntered up the sidewalk to the front porch.
“Hi,” answered Jake. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you around here the last several days.”
“You won’t believe this Jake,” answered Midge. “My mistress’s aunt is a romance novelist.”
“I know it. You told me about it one time,” said Jake.
“Well, let me tell you what we did,” said Midge.
“Oh, I can’t wait, this sounds like a good one,” said Jake.
“Ha ha Jake,” said Midge. “Maybe I won’t tell you.”
“Come on Midge,” said Jake. “You know I like to hear your stories.”
“Well, we went to the desert with her aunt so she could do some research. Our motel was near this trailer park and we saw this really ugly ducking at the trailer park. He was so ugly that they had him in isolation and someone tried to pretty him up by putting a wig on his head,” said Midge. “It was so funny I almost didn’t stop laughing.”
“Oh, that must have really been funny,” said Jake.
“The wig helped hide him from the mad hunter that kept throwing pebbles in the water to flush him out. And this waitress kept following him around the field with a pot,” said Midge.
“What was the pot for?” asked Jake. “Was she going to hit him with it?”
“No, she wanted to cook him for this
brothel group that was visiting the desert. And we found out that the hunter really wasn’t after the duckling. He was spying on his girlfriend whose infidelity is her muse, but I don’t know what that is,” said Midge. "Do you know what a muse is?” New Orleans
“No, never heard of muse,” said Jake. "Did she catch the duckling for the pot?"
"No, the little duckling got away and she gave up," said Midge.
"Oh, that is good," said Jake. "The poor little thing was probably so tired after running from them. What happened after that?"
“Well, before we left, this child ran up and told my mistress that a lot of people wanted her aunt’s autograph. That's the price of success as a writer I think.”
“Wow, wouldn’t it be neat to be famous,” said Jake.