The Mystery of the Puffy Envelope

On Monday, I was lackadaisically making my way to my critique group. Sneering at the screeching spider monkeys passing as children in our neighborhood. I stopped at the mailbox, hoping for an Entertainment Weekly or a Time, when what should I find?

Oh...only a puffy manila envelope, and everyone knows those are the best kind. Since I was driving, I just put it in the seat next to me, a thin layer of sweat crept onto my brow. I wondered. Wondered what the hell was inside.

Was it the Comic-Con swag Joe had promised to send?

No. No.

Too light, plus how could it be here so soon, it's only been a couple of weeks since it ended. It takes the ponies a little bit longer than that to gallop all the way to Washington. No hurry.

After bracing it with a shaky palm at each turn and stoplight, like a favorite child, I squealed into the coffee shop parking lot and tore that bad boy open. I nearly fainted. I couldn't be seeing straight.

Or could I?


What was that peeking out at me. Crowning, if you will?


Oh...


Only this...

Daddy's little girl, all growed up. It wasn't what I expected, but I love it more and more everyday. (I'll love it even more once all the blurbs come in and those are set)

And before you ask, Yes! That is her pimp cup!

*honorable mention for those who find the secret message hidden in this post!