Beezie, Angie, Swan Lake, and Me!
A lawyer who wants to dance ballet negotiates for his soul with Satan and an Angel.
“I’ll rip off one of those dumb horns and shove it up your nose you stupid, red jerk!” Angie shouted. The angel told me that I could call her Angie.“Go ahead! Try it, you disgusting, pathetic pure white virginal pompous prude!” Beezie retorted. “You’ll be sorry.” Beelzebub said I could call him Beezie“Please folks, can’t we all just get along?” I asked. That, of course, was me. Henry Jenkins, forty-two, a tad overweight,...
