Bette and Joan
Okay Venus, you asked for it, here goes:
Bette and Joan were driving accross the desert together in a fabulous 1953 Cadillac Eldorado convertible. Bette was at the wheel when Joan asked if she would pull over so she could relieve herself.
Joan walked several yards and went to take care of business behind a cactus. Bette then heard a spine tingling shriek from Joan. Bette dashed to where Joan lay writhing in the sand and asked what happened. Joan said she had been bitten on her "privates" by a rattlesnake. Bette told her to lay there and not move, she would go call her doctor from a gas station they had passed only a few miles back down the road.
Bette made that call to the doctor and listened carefully to what had to be done. The doctor started by staying, "First you have to take a pocket knife and make and X. Then you...........blah, blah, blah."
Bette thanked the doctor, jumped back into her smart convertible and raced back to where Miss Crawford was still writhing in pain. Joan asked excitedly and nervously what did the doctor say.
Bette calmly lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. She then replied, "You're going to die."
If you don't get it, take the Gay-o-meter test again and then email me privately!
BTW, I'm taking the elevator down to the 7th level of Dantes Inferno. From what I've read it seems I'll be in good company and there is river to swim in. Yay! Water skiing and yachting. I'll bring the truffle mouse pate' and someone else bring the Veve Cliquot.