In a house on a ranch there lived a madam. Not a nasty, dirty, swine ranch, filled with wallows of mud and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, cattle ranch with nothing on it but cactus or maybe a tumbleweed: it was the Chicken Ranch and that means comfort.
It had a perfectly rectangular door like a screen door, painted white, with a dull gray aluminum latch to one side. The door opened on to a half-walled hall like a parlour; a very shabby parlour with smoke, with panelled walls, and floors of formica, provided with naugahyde stools, and lots and lots of ash trays - the madam was fond of visitors.
As always, this is a work in progress. Feedback is always encouraged. In case you missed 'em, here are my previous attempts:
Version 2
Version 1
Now Playing: Subvision and Guy Gross Farscape Soundtrack
Works for me, but here's something you might consider:
ReplyDeleteTexas has a whorehouse in it.
Lord have mercy on our souls.
I'll expose the facts although it fills me with disgust
Please excuse the filthy dark details, and carnal lust.
Dancing going on inside it, don't you see they gone
I inquired no one denied it, now I think I'm getting
riled
Bodies close together, arms and legs all rearranged.
And the sheriff does not close him down.
That's very strange.
Loveless copulation going on and it must stop!
ReplyDeleteI like this version, Jayme!
ReplyDeleteI think this is the best of the four so far.
ReplyDelete