Meet Krissa. She was once known as the “Queen of Fine Cuisine” worldwide. She attended the world’s finest cooking schools, worked in five star kitchens alongside some of the most notorious little a**hole chefs you can think of in half the cosmopolitan cities on the globe. She slept with a few of them, developing a foie gras fetish that we’d best not discuss here. As her skills matured, so did her style. Her looks and skill eventually landed her some television appearances, which then led to a cookbook, and then another until she had racked up 8 best-selling cookbooks. Her haughty delivery, combined with endless connections and accolades, made her an object of utter fascination and intimidation. It is said that she was the first to introduce foams into the New York restaurant scene. She made a few careers but broke even more - her empathy conversely shrank as her fortune grew. She hobnobbed with the rich and famous (even flying with Epstein a few times - oops). She had become a household name! Then one day she was making a routine appearance on the Today show, giving Savannah Guthrie her customary icy treatment as she walked the audience through the proper way to make a tart. And that’s when it happened. In a momentary pause, on live national television, Krissa let out a protracted, cacophonous fart. Krissa froze. Savannah froze. Nobody spoke for what seemed like an eternity. Krissa tried to continue her segment but the damage had been done. It trumpeted a flatulent fall from grace from which even she could not recover. The clip went viral, trending on Twitter, Google, Facebook and everywhere else, drifting unavoidably to every corner of the earth. She was now known as the “Fart Tart” and had become a punchline overnight. Things were never the same. A decade later she would be the answer on Jeopardy under the category ‘Flatulent Failures’. Krissa retreated from the public eye, purchased some land in North Carolina, and now runs a popular organic farm with a Farm Stand named “The Magical Fruit”. Her favorite song is “That Smell” by Lynyrd Skynyrd.
Meet Candi. She has been telling everybody since October 15th (casually, in passing, to everybody she comes in contact with) that she is done with her Christmas shopping. It’s almost as if she doesn’t realize that this will elicit praise and envy…almost. But the little sniff she makes at the end of her sentence is her poker tell. It gives her away that she’s just knowingly bragged and is anticipating a wave of self-satisfaction as the recipient dutifully gushes over Candi and her superior life choices.
Meet Mrs. Claws. You’re much more acquainted with her husband, of course, with his miraculous trip to each child on earth every Christmas. His distribution of that perfect gift that was exactly what was requested - the delight contained in the stockings Christmas morning. Oh, isn’t he exalted!
Meet Tina. She gets triggered easily, but she means well. Lately she’s been trying to clean up her language - for the kids. She’s learning how unsatisfying “gosh” and “darn” are. “Rats” is just completely off the table, and she’s on the fence about whether or not it’s ok to say “crap”.