"That woman should be ashamed of herself!" Miss Marcie said, a perpetual grimace ever present on her wrinkled brown face. Juicy wrapped the stiff piece of hair around the curling iron, expertly pumping the handle until there was a smooth curl bouncing beneath her fingertips.
"What did that heffa do now?" Juicy asked, barely listening to the old woman's idle gossip. It was hard for her to focus when she had so much s**t cluttering her head. Is that how Troy felt; head wanting to explode?
Miss Marcie continued. "Oh she came out wearing them stretchy slacks, with that big behind of hers! You know that woman shouldn't be prancing around-" Juicy listened as Miss Marcie's voice droned on and on while she threw in a 'hmph' or a 'you don't say?' in the appropriate places.
Finally the last curl
