Switch Up her Makeup! Part 3

Penelope Floofy escorted Kate Cameron to the door, mincing and tiptoeing between the shards of once-prized porcelain that carpeted the floor. Kate Cameron had calmed down and was back to her usual self: the picture of up-to-the-minute disdain.

As a servant held open the heavy gilded glass door, Kate Cameron tossed her head and announced flippantly, “So long, Penelope. Be sure to have my cosmetics ready by next Friday-” she looked at her designer watch “-at 4:43 at the absolute latest!”

“Yes, we shall be certain of that,” Floofy said grimly as she forced a so-called smile and saw a smugly swaggering Kate Cameron out the door, across the plush red carpet, and into the waiting black limousine.

“Absolutely certain,” she muttered to herself, and pounded up the velvet-covered stairway to her sister’s room.

She flung open the door to find her sister lounging on her eggshell-blue canopy bed holding a leisurely conversation with… someone? Floofy wasn’t sure who.

“Make sure I add enough garlic concentrate?” Fillafella was asking, idly twisting a few strands of her dark, curly hair. “Well, I have to admit, it’s always worked in my experience– and yours! Remember that time we gave Penelope our Eau d’Allium perfume?” she asked with an impish smile.

How could I forget? Penelope thought, irritated. And of course she’d be talking to that Marie LaPointe.

Marie LaPointe was one of Fillafella’s most intimate friends. She was a perfumer who designed celebrities’ signature fragrances – including those of Floofy and Fillafella!
Unfortunately for Floofy, she was also past mistress in the fine art of pranking, and whenever a particularly pungent prank was played, Penelope knew Marie LaPointe was at least partially to blame.

“Polly Fillafella!” she snapped. Her sister immediately sat bolt upright and dropped her phone in the process. “Oh! Sister! I was just-” Penelope strode up to her sister’s bedside and picked up the phone.

“Why, hello Marie! I’m afraid your conversation will have to wait. I need to have a little chat with Polly. Uh-huh,” Floofy answered smoothly, glaring at Fillafella the while. “Goodbye.”

She threw the phone at her sister (who caught it in one hand) and barked,“I need to know what in the universe you were thinking when you promised a whole new makeup collection to Kate Cameron!” Floofy thundered, emphasizing Oscar Martin’s spokeswoman’s name with two stomps of her cream-colored satin pumps.

Fillafella sprang off her bed to face her sister. “First of all, my dear Penelope, the reason I took it upon myself to promise Kate Cameron that cosmetic collection is because I have a very splendid plan– one that might just show Kate Cameron what we’re capable of. And the reason I was talking to Marie is because it involves a bit of pranking expertise.”

Floofy heaved a dramatic sigh. “Well, what is your plan?” she snapped impatiently, tapping her toe on the marble tiles and stepping even closer to her sister.

“I’d love to hear your excuse for promising dozens of hours of hard work on my part making beauty products for Kate Cameron when all she wants is to steal the formulas of our cosmetics!”
Floofy’s face was bright red and she was breathing hard.

“If you would listen to me for just a moment, you might find out I never dreamed of giving Kate Cameron a set of our best makeup.”
Penelope raised her eyebrows and was just about to say that not only had Polly dreamed of it, she had actually done it, but her sister continued.

“What we’re going to give her is a set of our worst makeup: a sample of all those dreadful cosmetic catastrophes we’ve managed to cook up. Not anything dangerous, you understand, but decidedly unpleasant.”

“Why, you ask?” Fillafella went on, excitedly seizing Floofy by the shoulders. “Kate Cameron admitted she was looking to steal the formulas for our cosmetics! If we gave her our usual finest-quality products, she’d probably take samples of them and have them analyzed, thereby revealing all the secret ingredients in our winning products so Oscar Martin could use them in his horrifying excuses for beauty products.”

“But if we provide Kate Cameron with failures,” Fillafella continued animatedly, “she has one of two choices: making Oscar Martin’s products even worse than they already are by implementing our failures, or returning to Oscar Martin empty-handed!”

“Do you like the plan?” Fillafella asked.

“I have but two things to say, my dear sister,” Floofy said sternly, holding a finger imperiously in the air. Then she smiled radiantly.

“Firstly: you really are almost as fabulously amazing as I – your plan is genius. And secondly: let’s get to work!”

So they did.

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Switch Up her Makeup! Part 2 

The two sisters swept through the marble hall, closely followed by Kate Cameron, and into the Versailles-style parlor. Floofy guided Kate Cameron to a gilded mint green armchair, then seated herself on a powder-blue settee with her sister, who was amusing herself by fiddling with the sugar bowl. Both seats faced a spindly-legged coffee table topped with a splendid porcelain tea set painted with roses.

“Floofy, you’re so old-fashioned,” Kate Cameron said a moment later as she sipped her ginger-rose-lavender tea, wrinkling her nose at the gilt-paneled walls and Rococo furniture. “Let’s just say we don’t hesitate to incorporate the most luxurious antique traditions into our daily lives,” Penelope said, yawning extravagantly. “Also, don’t you adore our tea set? We custom-ordered it. You know the rose is our logo, so we thought a rose tea set would be quite perfect,” added Fillafella, tapping the thin china festooned with painted roses. Kate Cameron sneered and abruptly slapped her teacup down on the table with a clatter.

“Enough chitchat!” she snarled aggressively, then added in a sickeningly sweet tone, like eleven packets of artificial sweetener in one tiny cup of tea, “I want to ask you for a tiny little favor, Floofy… as between friends. Would you give me a makeover with your wonderful–” she choked out the word through clenched teeth “–cosmetics?”

Floofy stared hard at the falsely-sweet Kate Cameron. Try on my makeup? she wondered. I smell a rat- or rather, I smell Martin’s Cosmetics. Why would she, an executive of a rival company, be so insistent on having an F & F makeover? 

Floofy stood up and said in a strong, firm (and rather loud) voice, “So sorry to burst your bubble, Kate Cameron, but we almost never do such a thing. We do, however, offer personal makeovers at our salon–” Kate Cameron popped up from her chair and cut Floofy off viciously. “I don’t want your pathetic little salon makeovers. What I want is a makeover by you! And I will have it! How else am I going to find out your overrated makeup formulas?” she spat furiously.

As she continued her deranged tirade, the two sisters felt as if they had been struck by lightning. So that’s her plan, Penelope wondered. She wants me to give her a makeover just so she can find out the ingredients of our cosmetics and report back to Oscar Martin! She turned to flash Fillafella a shocked and disgusted look and saw that Fillafella had beat her to it.

At that moment, the sickening sound of shattering china met the sisters’ ears. Fillafella jumped up from the settee and Floofy whipped around just in time to see Kate Cameron, still ranting, hurl the carefully-painted, rose-bedecked, red-and-white teapot to the floor, where it instantly shattered on the polished marble, producing a thousand shining fragments that sped to every corner of the spacious room.

Floofy and Fillafella were rooted to the floor with horror. Then they looked in unison at the rest of the tea set on the silver tray. There was no more. Kate Cameron had smashed it all: one creamer, one sugar bowl, one, two, three teacups, and one beautiful teapot.

And that was when Fillafella, sweetly smiling, stepped forward, and said gently:

“Kate Cameron, we’d be overjoyed to give you a makeover. In fact, we’ll be exuberantly glad to create you a never-before-seen collection of cosmetics, and it shall be ready by next week at the latest. Goodbye,” and, with an elaborate bow, she swept out of the room.

 

Why would Fillafella offer personalized cosmetics to someone who deliberately smashed her tea service, and how will Floofy invent a whole new line of products in one week? Perhaps there’s some sort of trick in all this- and knowing Fillafella, it’s pretty likely. Find out in the next installment of Switch up her Makeup! 

A Private Plane for Fillafella! | Part Three

Happy New Year! After a way-too long wait (we apologize), the third and final part of Floofy and Fillafella is finally here! Enjoy!

The two sisters sat, shocked, in the white leather chairs. Then Floofy leaned forward with red cheeks and a fierce glare, while Fillafella sat back with her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised, and a sly gleam in her eye. 

“If I understand you correctly, Mr. Wellsworthford, you have just declared that you will not sell us our plane?” asked Floofy indignantly. “No, I won’t! Lady, what you want is extremely difficult to realize. In fact, it’s absolutely conceptually impossible. And I refuse to even consider undertaking it,” Wellsworthford said smugly. “Oh, really?” Fillafella said, amused. Keeping her eyes on the stubborn salesman, she turned her head to whisper in Floofy’s ear. 

Floofy frowned, then nodded, and finally smiled– devilishly.

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Dear Fillafella to Knot Good Hair

Dear Knot Good Hair,
I am so happy that I got the first question! Floofy will be so vexed…
But in answer to your question, I would recommend my Hair Horrors serum, hands down. I created it just for hair disasters exactly like this. Slather a generous amount on the tangled section and wait for it to turn from green to blue. Then rinse it out, and your hair will be as soft, silky, and styleable as Persian cat fur! Enjoy!

Affectionately,
Polly Fillafella xox