Some days, you just live right, and today is obviously one of those for me. Imagine having carte blanche to kill Karen Cherry Threadgill and not get told by the FanStory Powers That Be that I have [yet again] “perpetrated a break in the site rules!” She WANTS us to create the story of her demise!! Cha-CHINNNNNGGGGG!!

      I’m only peripherally acquainted with KCT, but that’s more than plenty of exposure to know the exact way to do her in. I’m going the route of my father-in-law, a man who was adored by everyone who knew him, because each and every person who made his acquaintance believed that, in his eyes, they were the greatest human being he’d ever met. He was a salesman, my father-in-law, and his mantra was: “Kill ‘em with Kindness.” At his wake, which was held twenty years ago on a frigid, ice-pelting evening in mid-October, the line outside the funeral home snaked down the front steps and then east for two town blocks. He obviously practiced what he preached.

      I will follow his lead and, in so doing, finally be able to kill off that Threadbare woman who, in vast contrast to my father-in-law, seems to have as her life mantra: “But enough about me; what do YOU think about me?!”

      Her writing focuses on death, blood and guts, and she loves to kill off her characters in the most hideous and barbaric ways imaginable. (well, ‘imaginable’ if you’re sick and depraved, that is.) A lightning rod like that –gawd knows she’s rankled lots of veteran members with those snarky, low-scoring reviews she likes to bestow— would surely WELCOME outrageous death scenarios for herself the way a rabid bush monkey would welcome bananas.

      So, that’s why this entrant in Miss Threadbare’s contest is not going to be killing her off with blood-and-guts, but rather, with kindness, the way I learned from my masterful father-in-law, whom I adored. My brand of kindness, though, may also include just the teeeeeeeny-tinest little morsel of our sponsor’s Kryptonite mixed in with it. I predict that it will not take more than three saccharine-stoked comments by me, until the lethal dose of kindness takes hold.

      I’m okay if you choose to hold your applause until the end.

Dearest Karen ~ Well, this latest post of yours is nothing short of BRILLIANT! The few spags I caught are not even worth mentioning because the pure genius of your plot and character developments come through in the biggest way! I want to give you a six, but in keeping with site rules and reviewing guidelines, I simply, in good conscience, cannot. (Those little pesky errors!) Still, please know that I SO wish I had your level of talent!!

SPAGS?! WHAT SPAGS?! I DON’T MAKE MISTAKES!! IT MUST HAVE BEEN A FORMATTING GLITCH! TELL ME WHAT THEY ARE, I’LL CHANGE THEM, AND THEN YOU’LL GIVE ME A SIX. GOT IT?!

(two minutes later)

I’MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM WAAAAAAAAAAAAAITINNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGG!!!!

(5 minutes later)

HEY!!! BRAIN DEAD!!! WHAT’S WITH THE RADIO SILENCE, HUH?! I’M GETTING REALLY PISSED OFF HERE! I DON’T WANT TO KEEP GETTING FIVES INSTEAD OF THE SIXES THAT ARE MY BIRTHRIGHT, ALL BECAUSE YOUR SORRY ASS CAN’T FOLLOW THROUGH HERE!!! COME ONNNNNNNNNN ALREADY!!!

Oh, Sweetie of the Most Immense Talent! That is sooo unnecessary! Please! Trust that your writing talent is so remarkable that everyone else who reviews you will be dazzled into not even noticing any of the little slip-ups you have made. You’re like a Modern-Day Shakespeare…well, you know, ALMOST!

LISTEN HERE, BITCH!! I HAVE JUST SPENT THE LAST FOUR HOURS GOING OVER AND OVER AND OVER THIS MASTERPIECE, AND I’M TELLING YOU, IT’S FLAWLESS!!! YOU ARE ONE HUNDRED PERCENT WRONG ABOUT THERE BEING ANY SPAGS IN IT!!! I CHALLENGE YOU TO TELL ME WHAT THEY ARE. OTHERWISE, IT’S OBVIOUS THAT YOU’RE JUST TRYING TO BLOW SMOKE UP MY ASS. YOU BETTER GIVE ME THAT SIX RIGHT NOW ORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

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Obituary: Karen Cherry Threadgill died this day of a cerebral hemorrhage brought on by, according to the coroner and EMT’s on the scene, Overwhelming Entitlement Syndrome, and then exacerbated to the maximum effect by Indignant Perfectionistic Insolence Malady. Her final moments were spent doing what she loved most: replying passionately to FS reviews of adulation.