“Simon Darling! How is my favorite typewriter doing?”
“The term is Copy Writer Cruella. What can I do for you today?” Simon says.
“Well I’ve just got a fantastic idea dear. To help launch my new line of furs, I want to write a memoir of my rise to fame.”
“You mean you want me to.”
“Of course! Ha! Could you imagine, me writing something for myself. That’s what I pay you for. Now get to joting down my thoughts.”
They call me Cruella Deville, the puppy napper. The world doesn’t understand greatness in it’s prime, not until they have died do people really apreciate their art, their eye for talent and fashion.
“Are you really comparing yourself to world reknowned artists?”
“I’m sorry do I pay you for your opinion? Oh ok, I thought not. Keep writing Simon.” Now where was I? Oh yeah, no one knows the true motives behind my acts and why the luxurious dog furs are the only pieces of clothing that I can wear. Let’s start from the beginning. As a girl, I was held hostage by family that was supposed to love and care for me. They kept me locked up and guarded with huge dogs. One day I tried to go downstairs for a drink and I was cornered by the beasts spilling my juice n the floor. I grabbed the towel in the kitchen and wiped the splatter from my neck and hands. As an innocent child, I tried to pet the pooches to calm them down and then it happened! “
“Oh my gosh, were you attacked Cruella? Is that why you’re crazy?”
“Silence you idiot and keep typing! I wasn’t attacked, something more disgusting happened. I couldn’t breathe! My throat closed up and as I was gasping for air my skin burned. It had to have been about 3 minutes before I blacked out and…”
“You’re allergic? That’s what you’re going with?” Simon smirks.
My temper needs to be tamed because I threw the chair that was next to me across the room. “Will you stop interrupting and just listen!”
“Alright, alright. Calm down Cruella sheesh. You’re going to have a stroke one of these days.”
My patience is fleeting. The jitters from my hand drops my pack of cigarettes to the floor. Simon reaches over and hands me one of his and we both fill the room with clouds. 3 puffs and the jitters stop, the headache receeds and I’m back to the cool, fashionista that’s in high demand. I can’t let people see me like this, i’d be ruined.
“Shall we continue?” Simon asks.
I nod. “So something vile happened, I found out that I was having an allergic reaction to cotton. I’ve always been rather itchy, but this was a new low. When I awoke, the only thing that could soothe my rash was the hairs of fur left on the floor by the dogs. The epiphany occured and I knew that dog hair was where it was at. Fast forward 10 years, I started to make clothing out of the dog hair because my allergy to cotton became worse.
People started complimenting my designs and eventually started requesting for me to make pieces. I couldn’t suffice with the leftover hair on the floor so one day, I shaved one of the dogs! It was like the birth of a genius, it just felt so right! My empire was born that day! I became a multimillionaire by selling the thing that saved my life. Dog hair!”
“So you’re just helping out the fashion world, huh?”
“Of course! I’m a regular guru, a trend setter, a business mogul that took a weakness and transformed it into strength!”
“Brillaint! I mean you’re delusional, but you have to admire your confidence.”
“Anyway Simon, the moral of the story is that you can’t let anything stop you from being great! Any obstacle can turn into your claim to fame!”
“So you’re not bothered by the fact that you abduct puppies?”
” I DON’T ADBUCT THEM YOU IMBESILE! I LIBERATED THEM AND GAVE THEM A PURPOSE IN LIFE!”
My anger is to an all time high. The last thing I remember is stepping over Simon to grab the typed up page from his typewriter. “Ughh it’ll due I guess.” I grab the hankerchief out of Simon’s lapel and wipe the debris from the page. Wlaking out of the room I smile at the start of my lie’s work.
“All I need now is another typewriter.” Flicking the remains of my cigarette on Simons body I hum my theme song and chuckle down the hall. ”