Jill’s Idiom Odyssey by Frederick K Foote

From sunrise to sunset, Jill was a good-time girl.

She was hot stuff, longing to live large in high cotton, and Jack—was Jack—a jack of all trades, a master of none, living on the edge looking for face-to-face horizontal celebrations.

Jack and Jill did lunch one-on-one, and Jack pushed the boat out to impress Jill, his dandy eye candy date.

Jill was delighted with Jack’s devil-may-care attitude, and as bold as brass, she accepted Jack’s invitation to go up the hill to his crib despite it raining cats and dogs.

In Jack’s bed of roses, things went off with a bang, and Jack delivered the goods.

Unfortunately, Jill was in the dark about Jack’s wife, Betty, who, under the cover of darkness, slipped into the bedroom and lowered the boom on Jack and Jill.

Jill screamed, “Stop! Why are you going postal on me with that damn hammer, bitch?”

Betty shouted back, “Skank, you made your bed, and now you will lie in it and probably die in it.”

Jack tried to escape, but Betty was in the driver’s seat. “Don’t even think about it, Jack. When you burn your candle at both ends, this is how it ends.”

Jack begged Betty to turn the clock back to a better day.

Betty replied, “Fool when pigs flies I’ll believe your lies. This is your day of reckoning. And don’t even try to say this is a raw deal. I done caught your tramp ass three times before. And you were the fucking apple of my eye.”

Jill had that never-say-die spirit and yelled. “Jack never told me he was married! He kept that on the downlow. Give me that hammer so I can take a swing or two and relieve you from a duty I would love to do.”

Betty brought that story hook, line, and sinker and had a sinking sensation as Jill landed the hammer against Betty’s bonnet.

Jill had found Betty’s feet of clay and swung away.

Jack tried to stop Jill, but Jill made it crystal clear who was in charge there as she tapped out his lights.

Jill didn’t raze to the ground the earthly foundations of Betty and Jack, but she did administer a thorough beat down.

Jill’s mother would have called Jill a goody-two-shoes for leaving the pair alive. But Jill knew her mother was full of piss and vinegar 24/7.

And Jill didn’t want to give the jailhouse a whirl.

Rain or shine, Jill was a good-time girl.

Jill could not wrap her head around her mom, being bent out of shape and having a short fuse all the time.

Jill said, “That was a close shave. I’m going to make like a tree and leave.” And she got the hell out of Dodge and hit the road in her Dodge Charger Hellcat.

Through thick and thin, until the end, Jill was a goodtime girl.

In short order, Jill got patched up and was soon looking for someone else’s fancy to tickle. Dressed to the nines, she made a beeline for the Turn the Tables club, her seventh heaven, where she was the belle of the ball and could make every man jack straighten up and fly right.

Jill spent all night long making common causes with the new light of her life until they got their second wind and started over again.

From cradle to grave, Jill was a goodtime girl.

Frederick K Foote

Image: Pixabay.com. A pair of gold wedding rings