Literature
Zomberella
There are six clumps of my dirty blonde hair left. I sit in front of my vanity, tying different colored bows at the base of each one. I dyed the tips of them my favorite color a while ago -- hotter than hell pink -- so people know I mean business. When I'm done with that, I pinch my cheeks, make kissy faces in the mirror. I'm looking a little dull, I finally decide. I reach below the vanity and pull out my secret weapon: a tub of Crisco. I dig my fingers into the thick white goop and start smearing it on my face. When that's done, I roll a little margarine under my pits and give myself an approving wink with my good eye in the mirror before g