Protagonist: Amanda, with amazing legs
Goal: to write the Great American Novel
Obstacle: the barista at Starbucks
Action: gets married
In the nicest and most simple terms, Amanda was unfortunate. In the meanest yet still uncomplicated terms, her personality sucked. And she was uglier than a troll.
She was the ultimate pseudo-intellectual. Amanda told anybody who would listen that one day she would write the Great American Novel. This particular life goal annoyed the living piss out of one of the baristas at Starbucks. At first, you’d think this was because the barista was a jealous nosy bitch but that wasn’t the case at all. Amanda lived at Starbucks, would rarely shut up about her fictitious novel, and would spout off her views to anyone in the vicinity. The barista suffered since Amanda was always in the vicinity. She sat at the table nearest to the cash register because she liked to be in the thick of the action. “You never know if the dull repetitive life of strangers might be the inspiration I need to write my first New York Times #1 Best Seller!” Oh, and she also had a very high pitched nasally voice. Amanda’s personality was repellent to most people. (And dogs. And cats. And most living things with hearing abilities.)
The other side of Amanda’s disadvantage were her revolting features. Her hair was dishwater blonde. On good days it looked like a brillo pad that was perched upon a square shaped head. Her tiny poop brown eyes were miles apart. Her eyebrows could be mistaken for miniature brown fuzzy caterpillars. Her nose was average but the nickel size hairy mole at the end ruined any chance it had of being nondescript. The poor thing always gave off the impression that she was sucking on a lemon because her lips were short and thin. Her giraffe-like neck transformed into linebacker shoulders and her boobs fit in a training bra. She was rocking a total Santa Claus belly; it even shook like a bowl of jelly! She had wide hips and butt cheeks that were as flat and floppy as a deflated balloon. Ending things off on a positive note, Amanda had amazing legs. They were long and shapely. They made Tina Turner’s legs look dull and comparison and that’s saying something. Unfortunately for Amanda, her goddess-like legs ended in hobbit feet. They were fat, hairy, nasty things. Thank the stars she usually kept them covered. Once, she made the mistake of wearing sandals and a child ran in fear, screaming and crying about two evil Snuffaluffaguses eating a lady’s feet.
Amanda, with her awful personality and her hideous face, spent the day trolling Starbucks. After three years, she had finally written what she considered to be The Great American Novel. In reality, her book was a steaming pile of crap. An innumerable amount of publishers had rejected her dismal attempt at writing. One had even stabbed it over and over with a red pen and returned it looking like bloody Swiss cheese. Amanda refused to give up. She decided that marring rich, would give her means publish her literature on her own. Amanda was a realist though. She knew there was a snowball’s chance in hell that she would meet a man in the real world. She did what most awkward and ugly people do; She joined an online dating site. She created a profile (full of lies of course) and posted a photo of her legs as her user image.
Amanda met the guys at Starbucks and a few became destructive and hostile in response to Amanda’s deceitful profile. The barista didn’t only sing coffee. She was a mid-level hacker and kept deleting Amanda’s Match.com profile to end the havoc at Starbucks. The barista felt it was her duty as a fellow human being to protect the men from the awfulness that was Amanda. One day, Barista called in sick and Amanda was able to lure in a man who was her perfect match. He was a good-looking guy, except for his lumpy, hairy, short chicken legs. He immediately fell for Amanda due to her amazing legs. He wasn’t rich but didn’t mind frequenting the check cashing place to get money to bankroll Amanda’s Great American Novel. Amanda handed her freshly printed book random passerbys. People even started coming up to her and asking for her free book! Unbeknownst to her, all the people that appreciated her novel were homeless. They thought that the 2000 page manuscript was great kindling for a trash barrel fire.