Fried Eggs

With a steady hand, Gloria swiped brown liner over José's shaved eyebrow. She drew a long, arched sperm shaped brow. José quickly turned to face the mirror.

“Shit girl, it's gorgeous!” he gasped. If the apples of Gloria's cheeks weren't covered in rouge, he would have noticed her blushing in delight. Taking the liner from her hand, José attempted a sperm brown of his own. His hand shook on the end of the sweep. Gloria grabbed him a moist cloth and he wiped the brow off his face. Gloria had taken José under her wing to turn him into the perfect woman. He didn't care to lose his parts, just liked to cover them up under leopard g-strings, fishnet pantyhose, and tight hot pink leather skirts. He spent all his time in front of the mirror, transforming himself into bombshells, surrounded by posters of Raquel Welch, Bridgett Bardo, Farrah Fawcet and the rest of the angels that littered his bedroom walls. As for Gloria, she desired José more and more the tighter his skirts and higher his heels. His painted lips were like luscious strawberry's, pouting wet as if they were full of juice.

José's 11 year old brother, Alfie, sat cross-legged on the bed admiring Gloria is all her sequenced glory. While his friends were outside building forts, riding bikes, and getting grass stains, Alfie was falling in love. Gloria had little attention left over to give Alfie, but when she did she'd tousle his hair and prance around the room in patent leather heels. “Hey Alfie, do you like this shirt?” Gloria asked while twirling herself into a twinkling tornado. If she actually waited for a response, she would have noticed him blushing in delight. She continued to twirl, singing along to Cyndi Lauper's She's So Unusual. She attempted to grab José's hand to suck him into her tornado, but he wouldn't peel himself away from the Latin glamazon reflecting in the glass.

Gloria initiated another try at the eyebrow. “Alfie, do you have a pencil sharpener?” He left to fetch the tool. While they waited, Gloria tried something new to get José to pay her some mind. She ran down to the kitchen to get a tea bag, and then swooped into the bathroom. She covered her jaw, chin, and upper lip with Vaseline and then covered that with the contents of the tea bag. It appeared she had grown a short, stubbly beard in seconds. Returning to José's bedroom she asked him to pass her a pair of socks. He threw them over to her without turning around. Gloria stuffed them into the crotch of her tight, high waisted jeans. She threw on a baggy t-shirt, shoved her ponytail into a baseball cap, hunched her back and stuck out her pelvis.

“Eh hot stuff,” she asked in her best interpretation of a man's seductive voice, “how do I look, mama?” José turned around to look at her.

“Girl, you are one ugly man! Take that shit off your face! The question is, how do I look?” he lifted his newly drawn sperm brow. Just then, Alfie returned with the sharpener and handed it to his brother.

“Alfie, what the hell did you do?!” José squealed at him. Alfie was cut, bleeding, and hairless where his eyebrows used to be.

“I shaved them off. Where's Gloria?”