Heaven help us all; the woman has gone wacko on a doodle.

The scene is set with the flea wearing a plague mask made by no other than her Bootlicker friend, Ms. Tori.

Now, sure, it’s Halloween, but gimme a break: the flea looks hideous and sounds as if she is buried 10 feet down inside an empty can of Beanie Weenies.
The long-nosed black mask covers the nose, mouth, chin, and all dignity.

Not saying the Bootlicker is a bad leather twister, but damn, lady, you missed the mark.

(Nice try, but no cookies for you.)

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Instead of a plague mask, the contraption looks more like an appendage growing out of desperation from a forgotten mole.
Evidently, the Bootlicker didn’t do research, or she ran out of leather.

Instead of full face coverage like a real plague mask, this one is designed as a ‘strap-on’ and has a black strap that holds the leather apparel to the head while covering her nose, flea hole, and triple-wide chin.

But she misses the mark because half of the mask that protects the wearer from germs, covering the eyes and exposed forehead, seems to be missing…perhaps Bootylicker had to make a new whip or something.

(No Wonder she sounds like Beanie Weenie Queen)

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But aside from that, it gave the flea the confidence to turn on the camera and show her masked face and her stringy ‘money piece’ that desperately needs the dead ends cut off.

She dons her ‘purplish pink’ punk hat that she usually saves for Loofah Mobile ™️ jaunts around her city.

Black laced gloves that look like they came from her 1980s stash adorn her plumped hands like spider webs where the spider gave up and went elsewhere.

The flea’s mask is also so ill-fitting, she has to constantly hold it down with one hand while the other strokes her dry, brittle hair.

womp womp

The flea begins her monologue, looking constantly in her side mirror, tugging at her hair or mask and showing her profile that is hidden behind this ‘C’ grade contraption.

Looks aside, the flea starts the show with her BFF Kim in the corner of the gar-tudio, desperately looking for Bootylicker’s appearance by her side.

Soon we see that Fleasa is more than agitated that she sent her friend a link “like, um, three times,” and Bootylicker never responded.

She tries to text her, and the realization that she’s been stood up shows on her face; it is clear she’s a little bummed or pissed…but who can tell since she’s wearing that hideous get-up.

But kudos to the flea, because she dared to show herself on screen no matter how goofballish she looks.

And that does take some courage, and as June Carter once said, “He’s got more balls than a big brass monkey”

(Despite Ourselves)

earworm

The flea checks her appearance once again, and now starts to complain that the thick leather contraption strapped to her face is very hot, and she tugs on it once more.

Now we can see she’s also donned a set of long, hideously long purple nails that scream “press me on” by Lee or a cheap ‘fiddy-cent’ knockoff brand.

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As the flea looks once again at herself in her off-screen mirror, she admits, or confesses, that she was planning on wearing this to her deposition if she had been ordered to be deposed on camera.

“I was absolutely going to wear this,” she hammers home while bobbing the masked head in front of the camera. ‘Wouldn’t that have been hilarious if I showed up to face Shochet wearing this? she asks her mystified Warriors.

“No joke! I was going to show up wearing all of this.’ she hisses into her trusty, musty mic while rubbing her leather getup.

Seriously, she was going to wear this contraption?
What is wrong with her?

(This group has no respect for authority at all, none, zilch; in fact, they seem to get their jollies by mocking it square in the kisser)

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Soon, she gives a hacking cough and then declares, while hands wave around in frantic motions, “And look, guys, I am not smoking”

(How could she? There is no mouth hole provided in her leather nose holster.)

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After about twenty-four minutes, the flea finally removes her mask because it’s just too dang hot and she is getting swampy, and she cuts to her avatar screen as she strips off her leathery face.

The announcement that the Amazon wish list is now live prompts questions from her Warriors.

Soon, we hear that Susan B., last year’s culprit, messed with all the orders on Amazon.
Fleasa reminds everyone that she keeps the gifts and goods that will be sent and wraps them herself.

Kim pipes in that she’s disgusted by how the Minions mess with things that only hurt the children in the long run.
Kim also suggests they wrap each gift as it comes into their possession so they don’t have to do it later.

In a rare moment, the flea turns on the camera to show her real self, sans the ghastly, horrendous mask.

She primps with her hair, admiring her long, luscious, dry, stringy hair on monitor 3, as if it was just bought at the Dollar General and she’s vying for first place in a beauty war.

(Just for the record, I don’t ever want to hear her say that Megan has a pig nose or a turkey neck, because my God, Becky, look at the size of those nostrils and droopy neck skin!)

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The flea screen is off again because “it’s too bright”; she turns to her phone, looking for Bootylicker, and wonders for the umpteenth time why she ditched her.

Moving on, because, well, I can… we get to the part where Goober screams from the house over a football game and rushes into the gar-tudio. But before he can be seen on camera, the flea tells him he needs to put on a shirt.

(Thank God, because no one wants to see her scrawny Goobster all nasty and shirtless… right?)

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Around the 38-minute mark, Goober appears from behind the 2Lees banner that hangs behind the flea. He is sporting a black shirt and a makeshift doo-rag that covers his receding, thinning hair, like some gangsta from the Villages East side.

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Goober looks at one of the 4 monitors on Fleasa’s makeshift desk and asks, “Did ya all go trick-or-treating?”

Soon, there is a stretch of dead air, and Goober seems to side-eye the flea’s intentions for why he is even around.

And as God is my witness, I wonder the same thing and even question why I am even here.

So, I move on and call it good for the day.
Toodles poodles ❤️🐩
38:45/3:36:17

(Please enjoy the screenies: don’t get scared now, okay?)

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