"Aren't you a bit domineering for a chorus-girl? It doesn't suit you, m'dear. What you need is some old-fashioned patriarchal treatment-someone should, oh, I don't know, carry you off on horseback and imprison you on some desolate farm, guarded by a wise-cracking cynic and a gentle giant. That ought to drill some winsome submission into you..."
Lola lifted an eyebrow delicately in Dracomir's direction as she walked down the dim passage way, heels clicking against the stone floor.
"Aww...," she said, reaching over and pinching his cheek, as one might a child's. "You're such a cutie, baby..."
She let him go, ignoring the look of outraged pride on his thin face, her gaze returning to their path. "And you've been living in Gondor far too long. You're home now! Back in Mordor! Don't you remember rampant feminism?" Or are you too caught up in old-fashioned male chauvinism? she thought.
"Besides," she continued, accompanying this statement with a toss of her honey-blond mane. "I'm not a chorus-girl. I'm a Diva."
Last edited by JennyHallu; 06-20-2006 at 12:10 PM.
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