Frog Applause by Teresa Burritt for August 06, 2018

By the power of Judy’s Skull, I AM A HE-MAN!!!

Feel around your own eye sockets, sir. Embrace the skull from which you speak.

One of Dr. Freud’s hushed-up cases.

No puppet, you’re the puppet!

The script was later revised and read, “Complain about my dirty Judy one more time, sock.”

Hey, who’s stored under the bed WITH the socks, eh, buster?

Alas, poor Judy! I knew her, Horatio: a washerwoman of infinite nagging, of most infinite death rattle ….

Where is the rest of Judy?

Judy, Judy, Judy…

He never bought into the bit about “until death do us part,” and continued to taunt Judy with his dirty laundry, even though she rarely took the bait. Over the years, his ranting became a familiar gathering place, a worn old shirt that she couldn’t bring herself to toss out. She preferred to parry with silence and leave him twisting in the wind. An odd alliance to be sure, but she was too tired to care anymore, and besides, she quite enjoyed the rides in the countryside and the Sunday trips to the Farmers Market, and, somehow, old age had made the sex much more tolerable now.

Line! Line! —Prompter?

The over-the-hill Master Thespian knew, just knew, that this was going to be one of the worst performances of Hamlet ever (and that’s saying something!). It would be his swan song. Why had he ever engaged in that dalliance with young Judy, and then broken it off in such an unspeakable manner?! Alas!

Watch where you point that thoing ya’ numbskull..

At least Judy doesn’t have a flat head… he does, though. Check it OUT!!!