Once upon a time, in a not so far away place lived two, craggy fat women.

One went by the name, Fat Mary and for obvious reasons. Simply put, her name was Mary and she was fat. The other woman gained her namesake by being every bit the battle ax she was.

I am sure it was challenging for her to keep up the Ill temperament, foul mouthed, nasty tongue of hers, and of course general unhappiness, but it seemed to come so easy that Shrew was the only thing that suited her round, fat face. If your slightly curious about the Buttbeard-ison part, well that one’s easy. You see, the Shrew being the tasty vermin she was also had a tendency to be lacking. When I say lacking, I mean bearded in every place that counts.

As you can see, it’s no wonder the Shrew is so cantankerous all the time. I suppose I would be too if I cloaked a wooly diaper all the time. As far as Fat Mary goes, well she’s just one of those kind where they try real hard to be important, but fail. Poor thing can’t help it, really. She is merely the product of underprivileged life and for all those obvious reasons, quite bitter about it.

If theses times were as the old days, Fat Mary would have been a kitchen maid with some unsightly vile job. And, certainly one that took her away from being seen by anyone of importance. God only knows what talk would be had, can you imagine if you were to see such a wretched thing serving tea. No no, she would be hidden where no one would have to look upon her inbred, doughy face.

It might seem like an unlikely pairing, Fat Mary and The Shrew, but actually it’s quite predictable. You see, as I stated above, Fat Mary is one of those sad little souls that always wishes to be more. She desires a slimmer waist line and a pretty face. She dreams of a husband who isn’t having an affair with a recliner and a bag of chips. She’s the woman who wanted so badly to be a doctor, but settled for the attendant job at a nursing home kind. She’s loud by nature, but my God, what unsightly manners that wretch has. You really couldn’t take her anywhere without being embarrassed to be standing with her, I mean good God, what would the neighbord think if you were to fraternize with such a toad as she….

Well, I can tell you one thing. I would never be caught dead with Fat Mary, but then again their is always the Shrew to play the part of bestie.

The Shrew is equally a toad, the only difference between the two is, the Shrew has convinced herself, and of course Fat Mary, she’s higher up the toadstool. You see, long ago when the Shrew was a wee, no strike that, she’s never been wee, but let’s ponder the word, younger.

When she was *younger * the Shrew squatted with her small boy child in a tiny bedroom of her Father’s house. Filthy and unkemp, perhaps even pig sty were her fashionable choosing for homey decorum. She clearly came from the “trailer park”, and I don’t mean an actual “mobile home park”, I mean the kind of trailer park where cockroaches dwell in small rv’s they call trailers. It’s not the actual address that counts, it’s merely understanding the type of woman in which she is.

So, now that your getting thd idea here, let’s move on.

The Shrew lived in squalor, worked those double jobs and yet still couldn’t seem to get out of the hole. What money she did make went to partying on the weekends at bars. The Shrew sure loves a good drink, and certainly not a beverage for ladies. No no, she’s that beer drinker who doesn’t even bother pouring it properly in a glass, but instead guzzles it from the neck like a red necked man in the back hills of Tennessee. To make this more palpable, she was going nowhere. She just couldn’t pull of being classy or charismatic, and certainly not in the same moment. She was large thighed with no gap in the slightest, had a mouth full of bubbly teeth and a head full of hair more suited for a donkeys tail than a woman’s mane. There are few men who venture into purchasing such a toad, especially one with short, tree trunk legs.

The Shrew was on a mission, being that she absolutely understood everything stated above, to find a keeper. She had no intention of caring about this unlucky soul, only that he take her and her small boy child in.

As always, there’s a tragic happening and the only one here is that the Shrew did find a keeper. He was quite the handsome, intelligent and hard working type with a touch of a tender heart. After “dating” and dissolving a friend of the Shrew, the keeper saw her as the sad, pathetic “little” roundish single mother living out of a bedroom in her Father’s house. Being kind, and having a job that put him away more than not, he offered her to stay in his house while he was away, rooomate style.

Now, as you might guess the Shrew is quite the cunning devil. She told her keeper she would move in his house while he was away, and then of course said the magic first words “I need” a table, bed, sofa…. So, the keeper bought those items feeling sorry for her and the child.

Upon his return, he found his previously humble bachelor house, set up with furniture, well lived in, as a Shrew lives, all by the fruits of his wallet. The Shrew, being a nasty cunt, used the slit between her legs as “payment” or “a thank you”, if you will for all the things he purchased for her to squat upon.

The keeper fell in love with child, and out of charity took her in. He attempted to toss her to the curb like the trash he knew she was, but by then he worried for the boy child. Children are the root of all evil, I know this to be true.

Anyway, as time waged on so did a miserable life for the keeper. He saw every bit of a louse she was. Lazy, fat, dirty and unkempt. Bearded to say the least, always on a period, an unloving hag, unaffectionate and to boot, a hateful nag.

He worked, she did nothing. To make a very long and deathly painful story short, the Shrew took advantage of her husbands hard work and intelligence by going to school after she popped out two more children like a liter of unwanted puppies.

She didn’t bother to teach them manners or skills of any kind, but instead chose to ignore them with nothing but sour clothes to wear. Clearly, cleaning isn’t her thing.

Once educated, she could formally pretend she belonged in the status her keeper had let her have by riding in his wake. She was like that pesky toliet paper that gets stuck to your shoe, billowing behind you until someone says… Hey, that’s ass wipe following you…

Needless to say, that’s exactly what happened. However, this elevated ego of the Shrews, only made her feel entitled. As if she had always belonged there, except she didn’t. She would have never gotten there if not for her keeper. Ever.

When her keeper put in his dutiful time, he gave her a pink slip.

You would know this enraged the Shrew, how dare he leave her to fend for herself. She deserved all that life he provided, although ignorance isn’t always bliss. Every good woman knows the way to keep a good husband is by keeping yourself kept, tending to your children, house work and still managing a job while giving him a lasting impression in the bedroom. That’s ‘ how we ladies do it, but obviously, she knows not the ways of a southern woman. The Shrew didn’t come from the big house anymore that Fat Mary did. Instead, she came from the shack across the rail road tracks, by the swamp.

Bitter, and in need of a pawn to dump those puppies on, here comes Fat Mary. The Shrew did get a job and one that required a degree, however most women would agree that she spent ąlot of money on college for less than average job. I could have managed a book store and made more money than she did, but then again, smart isn’t necessarily her thing. Anyone can read a book, write fancy words and buy themselves a title. But, one thing is for sure. You can’t buy a pedigree nor can you wash the trailer out of your poorly bred DNA, but you can hang that degree on the wall.

Now that the Shrew was wearing the evident costume of importance and accomplished, Fat Mary instantly gravitated to her like a mosquitoe to a blue light. Degenerate souls usually do this sort of thing, you know, spit each other out in a crowd… Well, that’s what Fat Mary did. The Shrew, seeing that Fat Mary was quickly awe struck by her accomplished importantance, played the dutiful fat friend when her keeper discarded her for something better.

Fat Mary used her small mind to attack the better thing, as if it had the power to lure the keeper away from the steaming pile of shit he previously called wife. The keeper had already left, but as you know, accomplished Shrews can’t divulge that information. Everyone would know she’s a poor wife and mother if she did that… However, truth be told. Everyone already knew.

The keeper instantly became the evil enemy, Satans cousin and the one eyed demon in nightmares along with his exceptionally talented, rightfully entitled and beautiful companion.

Fat Mary tickled the Shrews beastly ears by saying, your prettier than her, she’s a whore, she’s stupid, she’s not that accomplished, she’s not that talented, she doesn’t make that much money. All of which weren’t true at all. The companion was actually by far more beautiful than the shrew could ever be, striking was the word most often used to describe her. She was noble, classy and came from a wealthy family. She was quite brilliant, charming and so referred to as every man’s “Dream girl”. She did make exceptional amounts of money for her talent in the arts but equally an heiress to her families business wealth. She produced beautiful children, that although had tongues like razors, were still mannered and perfectly kept.

The strikingly beautiful companion soon became the deserving wife, to the Shrews once, keeper. But now, he was something different, something he should’ve always been, a true gentleman and husband.

Impossible before as it was with the Shrew, she is no longer the bag of shit he feels the loyalty to wag around. I can’t imagine the embarrassment of having to stand next to her for some years. The gentleman was a Saint for that charitable work. No question.

Sorry, we teetered off. Back to the Fat Mary and Shrew. As you can see these two were drawn to one another. The Shrew was constantly in need of a patsy to dump her puppies on and for the reward of doing so, she allowed Fat Mary to be her “Friend”. Fat Mary was the go to for all things, helping the Shrew move from her nice house to the incredibly ugly lemon she bought the next town over, to watching children, picking them up, feeding them dinner and of course but not least, stroking the Shrews ego in attempt to prove she was the true prize, dumped for no good reason.

One would think the sucker punch to the gut would have come when the Shrew began to date again. The evidence of her true status should be starkly clear, especially when all that finds her of interest are boozy, unattractive men that have that washed up kinda feeling. To be even more precise, the kind of fellows with 50k a year jobs. Now that’s prime.

However, these two barking fatties enjoy their miserable comfort together. They do so in such fashion that their slights, misfortunes and ill manners delight us with mirthful evenings. It’s a moment of true reflection and pause. It’s the kind of pause where the once companion, now wife and once keeper, now husband say to each other, our life is perfect.

Meanwhile, Fat Mary receives a package in the mail. Upon opening it, she sees a rather large, chocolate cock inside with the words EAT A DICK inscribed inside. Now, I wonder who sent that?

Thanks for reading. ♥️

I am testing the waters here, but if it seems as a good story to tell, more will come from the Fat Mary and Shrew saga.

– M. Fowler