The Goose Girl - Introduction

This woman was, to be blunt, extremely ugly looking. She walked in a waddle fashion, she was short; about five feet tall. This woman’s legs were large round blobs of fat, the upper section of her body had funny shaped curves in all the wrong places, if you know what I mean my sista reader. The lady had eyes approximately six inches below her hairline, showing a wrinkled, large forehead. The two small beans that were her eyes were very close together, only divided by her round bubble-shaped nose. The lady’s moustache quivered as she licked her lips (there was a dentist’s office nearby, she loved the smell of a dentist’s office.) This woman is a Goose Girl. Duh Duh Duuuu!

Everything and everybody around the goose lady suddenly stopped, the goose lady turned and said; “Hi, I’m the goose lady, this is my non-clichéd way of telling you about my character. This way of introduction is actually meant for film or television, but the writer of this book is not good enough for film or television because there’s a couple things wrong with him. Anyway, I was rejected from my parents because I was lumpy, I was only two-weeks-old at the time and I was sent down a river Moses-style. When I was being shot at by Jennifer Aniston because of my lumpiness I was saved by a pack of geese. These geese raised me, they didn’t want to at first, but I bribed them with dish soap. I was named Smells Like Cabbage. As a teenage goose, my sister goose; Runs With Sandals, got everything, she was talented at all the goose activities (maybe because she was a real goose and I wasn’t, but you never know) I was always very jealous. When Runs With Sandals moved out with her goose boyfriend, Sleeps With All The Carrots, I was quite filled with self-pity. Then my adoptive goose parents divorced, it was quite heartbreaking; mother goose walked in on fathergoose at the pond with nothing other than a frog! How low can you get?! Now that my family was tearing apart, I couldn’t take it. So I did what I thought was right; I jumped off the bridge, I gave what I thought was my final squawk, and fell. Then I lived, damn it! I suffered terrible brain damage though, you see my brain was in the middle of my skull, but when I fell, my brain was smashed into the shape of a popsicle, the doctors thought that maybe if I hit my head again it may possible be meshed into the correct shape, but I decided I wouldn’t jump off any more bridges. Since the accident, I’ve thought I was a goose, I don’t speak, I only quack, quacking is more of a duck sound, I know, but my brain is the shape of a popsicle, remember. Anyway, the only reason I’m “speaking” English right now, is because the author of this book wasn’t smart enough to think of another way of introducing me. Anyway, I’m currently standing in front of a dentist’s office licking my lips.”