Bea Arthur's Vagina

[Enrico Salazar]

And a slutty one.

[East Coast Hustle]

-I don't know how I'll go about meeting her, he said while looking out at the rain falling into the greasy puddles.  -But, I know now that it's what I was born to do.

     It was two-thirty in the morning, and she noticed that he had dark circles under his eyes.  She took a sip of her coffee, and said.  -Well, to be quite honest, I think it's a retarded idea.

-That's your opinion, but I know that it's what I have to do.

-Well, she said wearily, -how do you plan to go about this adventure?

He took a long drag on his cigarette, looking back out the window at the rain, and said,  -I still don't know.  It's just that I feel Bea Arthur's vagina would be very charming and witty.  In fact, I don't feel it - I know it.

She repeated, sarcastically, -You know it . . .

He stared down at the heater of his cigarette, slowly giving off blue smoke, as if hypnotized.  -It has occured to you, she said, -that you don't actually know Bea Arthur?

-That means absolutely nothing.  It's not her that I'm interested in.

-It's her vagina.

-That's right. he said, winking, -Now you're getting it.

-So, let me get this straight, she said.  -You plan to take Bea Arthur's vagina on the road, to halls all across the country, and then do . . . what?

He sat forward, excited.  -It'll start with some kind of monologue that we'll write together-

-Us?  she said, leaning forward, smiling.

-Wha- no no no, the vagina and I . . . listen.  It'll be some sort of charming memoir or some shit, you know what I'm talking about.  Pathos, eh? Funny, right? Hmm?  Then, a question-and-answer portion, to spotlight how naturally gifted she is, unscripted.

-The vagina, she said, to clarify.

-That's right.

-Well, I think it's nutty.

-You simply lack vision.

-But won't it be violent?  she asked.  -I mean, getting it?

He snorted with laughter.  -Pffh!  No!  I don't plan to cut her out, or rip her out.  That will not be necessary.  I'm just going to coax her out . . . I'm sure she'll be happy to come.

She sighed.  -It's just a vagina.

-Only a woman would say that.  No, she's been repressed all these years.

-The vagina?  she asked, to clarify.

-Yes, it's an extremely intelligent and charasmatic vagina.

-Menopause's been kind to the old girl, she said.

- . . . don't be crass.

-I'm sorry.

-It doesn't become you.

-I'm sorry.

-I'm just sick of her being hidden away while Bea Arthur hogs all the limelight.

-Bea Arthur is a  wonderful actress.

-No question.  Bea Arthur is a terrific actor.  Maude was a breakthrough show.  But, I'm not interested in Bea Arthur, I'm interested in bringing her better half to the world.

-The vagina, she said to clarify.

- . . . yes.

-Fucked.  she said, standing up.  She gathered her purse, and dropped down two dollars for the coffee, and then walked out into the rain.

Puffing on his cigarette he looked out the window and thought about how he'd read somewhere about frogs mysteriously falling from the sky.  He dropped his cigarette into what was left of her coffee, in case she came back.

He leaned forward again, and mumbled, -How to meet Bea Arthur . . . how to meet her . . . ?

bump.

[Bu🤠ns]

-I don't know how I'll go about meeting her, he said while looking out at the rain falling into the greasy puddles.  -But, I know now that it's what I was born to do.

     It was two-thirty in the morning, and she noticed that he had dark circles under his eyes.  She took a sip of her coffee, and said.  -Well, to be quite honest, I think it's a retarded idea.

-That's your opinion, but I know that it's what I have to do.

-Well, she said wearily, -how do you plan to go about this adventure?

He took a long drag on his cigarette, looking back out the window at the rain, and said,  -I still don't know.  It's just that I feel Bea Arthur's vagina would be very charming and witty.  In fact, I don't feel it - I know it.

She repeated, sarcastically, -You know it . . .

He stared down at the heater of his cigarette, slowly giving off blue smoke, as if hypnotized.  -It has occured to you, she said, -that you don't actually know Bea Arthur?

-That means absolutely nothing.  It's not her that I'm interested in.

-It's her vagina.

-That's right. he said, winking, -Now you're getting it.

-So, let me get this straight, she said.  -You plan to take Bea Arthur's vagina on the road, to halls all across the country, and then do . . . what?

He sat forward, excited.  -It'll start with some kind of monologue that we'll write together-

-Us?  she said, leaning forward, smiling.

-Wha- no no no, the vagina and I . . . listen.  It'll be some sort of charming memoir or some shit, you know what I'm talking about.  Pathos, eh? Funny, right? Hmm?  Then, a question-and-answer portion, to spotlight how naturally gifted she is, unscripted.

-The vagina, she said, to clarify.

-That's right.

-Well, I think it's nutty.

-You simply lack vision.

-But won't it be violent?  she asked.  -I mean, getting it?

He snorted with laughter.  -Pffh!  No!  I don't plan to cut her out, or rip her out.  That will not be necessary.  I'm just going to coax her out . . . I'm sure she'll be happy to come.

She sighed.  -It's just a vagina.

-Only a woman would say that.  No, she's been repressed all these years.

-The vagina?  she asked, to clarify.

-Yes, it's an extremely intelligent and charasmatic vagina.

-Menopause's been kind to the old girl, she said.

- . . . don't be crass.

-I'm sorry.

-It doesn't become you.

-I'm sorry.

-I'm just sick of her being hidden away while Bea Arthur hogs all the limelight.

-Bea Arthur is a  wonderful actress.

-No question.  Bea Arthur is a terrific actor.  Maude was a breakthrough show.  But, I'm not interested in Bea Arthur, I'm interested in bringing her better half to the world.

-The vagina, she said to clarify.

- . . . yes.

-Fucked.  she said, standing up.  She gathered her purse, and dropped down two dollars for the coffee, and then walked out into the rain.

Puffing on his cigarette he looked out the window and thought about how he'd read somewhere about frogs mysteriously falling from the sky.  He dropped his cigarette into what was left of her coffee, in case she came back.

He leaned forward again, and mumbled, -How to meet Bea Arthur . . . how to meet her . . . ?

bump.

And for naked betty white   

[Brotep]

 

know it or not, hoops, I'm pretty sure your story is about the dude who lived across the hall from me a few years back

[BadBeast]

Of course, when you say "Vagina", you are really making a occluded reference to Bea Arthur's penis, aren't you?
Her real name is "Arthur Beach" and she stands up to piss. Betty White was taking every last inch of it, between scenes in "The Golden Girls". And she always did disclose sensitive secrets about her sexual partners after four slippery nipples, and a handful of Durophet.
Huge Adams apple, too.

[hooplala]

Bea Arthur is a man humour... never heard that before.

Nice to know you can be on the internet for 21 years and still read something fresh.

[BadBeast]

Bea Arthur is a man humour... never heard that before.

Nice to know you can be on the internet for 21 years and still read something fresh.

What do you expect? After all you did title the piece "Bea Arthur's Vagina".
Did you not think that after all those years of gender speculation, Such a blatantly unambiguous statement, regarding her genitalia would get at least one person to make reference to it?  I totally expected someone to.  And when they didn't, I did. 
It's like waiting for the Tourette's kid to say "Pissflaps" to the unsuspecting Adult, who asks him what his name is. Then berating him for being rude.

But saying that, I still thought it was a great read, and thoroughly enjoyed it.
The image of Bea Arthur's pudenda, captivating audiences all across the cuntry, (sorry, tourette's again) being charming, and erudite, speaking out for itself, after all those years of being hidden away in baggy old knickers, holds a certain surreal fascination, that is sure to make such an event, (were it ever to happen) a hugely successful enterprise. I for one, would buy a ticket. You could call it "The Golden Growler" tour.
Next to Betty White's well ploughed furrow, Bea Arthur's Minky-moo must  have a genteel, and refined character, like a well matured Stilton cheese, compared to a slice of processed Edam.

[hooplala]

It is written from a dream I had, pretty much verbatim.  In the dream it made perfect sense to me, but not to my wife, who thought it was ridiculous.

I'm not sure that saying something just because it hasn't been said is a practice I approve of, but what do I know?

Anyway, glad you liked it.

[Bu🤠ns]

So HOOPS, I take it the meeting went well?

[Nephew Twiddleton]

It is written from a dream I had, pretty much verbatim.  In the dream it made perfect sense to me, but not to my wife, who thought it was ridiculous.

I'm not sure that saying something just because it hasn't been said is a practice I approve of, but what do I know?

Anyway, glad you liked it.

I liked it too. It also made me follow a line of thinking, where you would try to coax the vagina out of Bea Arthur, kinda like where Luke Skywalker tries to coax Anakin back out of Darth Vader, or some other epic scene where the protagonist is trying to get the host personality to reassert dominance over the alien/evil/split personality, which makes it funny.

[hooplala]

I just re-read this, it shows how long ago I wrote it... you could still smoke in coffee shops.  Sigh.