My superficiality has REALLY out done itself this time

Trample on a Ray of Sunshine, Why Don't You

By Tony Danza

It was a humid summer day. Tavi was cleaning out her dresser, deciding which clothes to keep and which to selflessly and generously donate to the Salvation Army. Tavi loved her clothes like they were an endangered species living off the coast of Zimbabwe (that is if it has a coast. But I, failed TV star, am too lazy to find out). This beautiful, gorgeous, smart, funny, kind, beautiful, considerate and among all things humble girl was getting ready to move into her sister's bedroom. Sister was leaving for college soon and Tavi would miss her dearly (cough cough), but was thrilled to finally get a room of her own. One that she wouldn't have to share, one where she could go to sleep when she wanted, one where she could tape up a magazine picture up on the wall spontaneously without having to consult anyone, one where she could....
"HOLY SHNIKE!" Tavi had come across her favourite (oh yes I did just go British) scarf that her mom had bought decades ago in France. The scarf had a certain warmth to it, it wasn't in the best shape; fringing, dirty, but Tavi loved it just the same. Okay enough of this crap: TAVI PEERED HER BEADY EYES AT THE LABEL. IT WAS YSL. Friggin Yves Saint Laurent! And Tavi hadn't noticed until now when she actually paid attention. Sure, the scarf wasn't Kimora's Prada or Soul Tanggg's Gucci, but it was still pretty sweet.
The little elf had to tell someone immediately-she's a chatterbox, which you might already know just because this story is really long. So Tavi ran to the nearest family member to express her joy.
"Sister! Oh dear Sister!"
"Yeah yeah whaddya want you little box of ugly?" Sister carelessly asked without even taking her eye off the television set or taking a little time to swallow her food or put down the stray puppy she was choking because she is just that cruel.
"You know how this scarf used to be Mother's?"
"That's my scarf."
******BOOOOOOOOOM******
Tavi was trembling. "T-t-tis?"
"Yeah. Where'd you find it?"
"Are-are you taking it to c-c-college?"
"Yeah."
"Uh, I just realized i-it's a d-d-designer label."
"Oh sweet." Sister still had her eye on the TV.
Tavi helplessly walked out the room with her shoulders slouched and eyes watering, dropping the designer scarf behind her as she left. And she was never seen again.
Some folks say she went off to apply to that paid internship over at Yohji Yamamoto but was thrown out for strangling a mannequin out of anger. Others say she lives at the top of Very Huge Mountain, feeding woodpeckers and meditating, and people risk their lives to climb the mountain for her life advice. Some claim she became a hermit who lives with a bunch of cats in a house made out of a shoe. A Doc Marten shoe. The floral kind. And of course there are a few skeptics who say this is all some type of myth. No one knows for sure, but I have to go hold people closer because I'm Tony Danza.

THE END