Gone With The Breeze–A Paro-Dee! Just messin’ with y’all!


GONE WITH THE BREEZE: Me bein’ silly. I’ve always laughed whenever I think of that classic Carol Burnett skit when she’s parodying “Gone With The Wind.” Thinking of her wearing that curtain rod still gives me a chuckle. This is just my own silly version. I hope it makes you smile–I’m sure it will make you groan if nothing else! 

Mello-D leaned out the window and crinkled her button nose. “Nothing worse than the stink of barbecued pork. Why doesn’t your father just admit to folks he’s kosher?” Mello-D gracefully turned around and smoothed her sky-blue hoopskirt.

The blond, lank-haired dandy just shrugged.

She stared back out at the towering oaks. With a glance down the slight knoll, she observed the rose garden in full bloom. “Remember, Brashley, this barbecue is our last chance to keep from being thrown out on the road without so much as a roof over our heads.” She shook her dainty finger beneath his nose.

“What are you talking about?” Brashley’s gray eyes glazed over as he brushed back the thin locks sculpting his boney head.

Mello-D paced across the library, pausing by the high-backed couch facing the marble fireplace. “Since Lincoln was elected president, your father, John, has never been the same. He keeps muttering, “Sic semper tyrannis all the day long. And as a plantation, Thirteen Jokes is–well–pretty much a joke.”

“What can we do?” He raised his up-turned palms into the air and his mouth dropped open, giving him a slack-jawed look that drove her to fury.

“Listen, Brashley Boothe Wilkes, you’re going to turn on that charm and we’ll get Smarmett  right where we want her.”

Brashley tugged at his cravat like he was choking. “What do you have in mind?”

“Must I explain every excruciating detail? Everybody in the county knows Smarmett has had the hots for you for the past eleven months. We’ll make your dim-witted sister, Honey-Buns, blab it all over town. Smarmett will be so humiliated, she’ll do anything to prove it’s not true.” Mello-D  smiled and rubbed her hands together.

“So?” Brashley managed to look even blanker.

“Where were you when they passed out brains? We’ll get my brother, Gnarley, to propose to her. She’ll jump at the chance to prove she doesn’t care for you.”

“Forgive me, Mel, but Gnarley is such a geek.”

“Who cares as long as Smarmett is embarrassed enough to marry him.”

“I don’t get it, Mel. How do we save the plantation if Smarmett marries your brother?” Brashley looked dimmer than a fireplace with only one log.

“Hello?” Mello-D gave him a brisk rap on the side of the head with her fan. “When Smarmett marries Gnarley, she’ll be forced to move in with Aunt Puddytat in Atlanta. That old gin-hound is about to lose her place due to all the gambling, but with Smarmett’s money, we can save it.”

“If father loses Thirteen Jokes, then we’ll all be forced to live at Aunt Puddytat’s. I can’t live with that drunken old broad.”

Mello-D’s eyes blazed like two candles in the wind. “With Smarmett in Atlanta, that gives us plenty of time to snatch Tora-Tora from old Geraldo O’Hara. You know Geraldo, he’s always so busy stirring things up between the North and South, so he won’t pay a lick of attention to the plantation.”

Dawning awareness lit up Brashley’s face and he gave a lop-sided grin. “Mello-D, you are one smart flower of southern womanhood.”

She tilted back her head and pushed out her lower lip. “Who’s your daddy, Brashley?”

He grabbed her by her wasp waist and swung her around. “You are, Mel.”

She curtsied.

“Mello-D, you are brilliant. Where do people get the idea you’re some weak mealy-mouthed fool?”

She pulled her face into a caricature of a sweet, innocent thing. “Why Brashley, how you do run on.”

He laughed and pulled her close. “It’s true what they say.”

“What’s that, darlin’?” She lowered her eyes and batted her eyelashes at him.

“The meek shall inherit the plantation.”

She gave him a playful shove. “I heard horses. Get out there and be your usual charming, although witless, plantation dude self. Time’s a-wastin’ cuz. Get out there and put the moves on old Smarmett.””

A tall figure reared his dark head from the high-backed couch.

“Who in the name of Robert E. Lee are you?” she asked.

“My name is Rhatt…Rhatt Betler

“We’re rhatt glad to meet you, sir.” Brashley broke into hysterical laughter until Mello-D gave him a scornful look. He turned the laugh into a cough.

Rhatt frowned at Mello-D. “I don’t think I can allow you to play such a scurvy trick on a delicate southern belle. Besides, I heard Smarmett is really hot.”

“Butt out Rhatt, or I’ll make you might sorry.” Mello-D’s earbobs jangled furiously and she glared.

Rhatt shuddered and sank down onto the couch. “Far be it from me to interfere.”

Brashley strategically placed his blond curls over his balding head. “After we snatch Tora-Tora away from Geraldo, what then, Mel?”

“We’ll go to Morro Bay on vacation.”

“To Morro?”

“Yes, Brashley, to Morro, after all, it’s another bay.”

Rhatt held up his hand. “If you’ll give me that last line of yours, Miss Mello-D, I’ll be out of here quicker than a Savannah minute and you can do your worst on Smarmett. To Morro is another bay–that’s gold.”

“Get your own line. Go ask Geraldo O’Hara’s valet, Spam. He’s got a million one-liners,” Mello-D said.

Rhatt folded his arms across his chest. “I’ve met him. I’m not asking Spam anything.  I don’t get Spam.” He wandered out of the library muttering, “Frankly, I don’t get Spam…give…get…a Spam. That’s it! Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a Spam. If that isn’t academy award material, then nothing is.”

Grabbing Mello-D’s arm, Brashley said, “Don’t you care that Rhatt now has a better line than you?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, Brashley.”

“Really?” He looked dim even for him.

“It’s all gone with the breeze anyway.” Mello-D gave a shake of her corkscrew curls and gazed out the window once more.

Thanks for stopping by, and I hope you forgive me for my corny humor!






Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Designed and Powered by Elijah Web Solutions