Sarah the thriller

You just can’t make this stuff up.  Well, I’ll try to envision what really happened there, how Neiman Marcus made Sarah Palin an action heroine.   This is not about how Sarah traded a strong moral fiber for ultra expensive threads. Others have already covered that territory.  

I think it all began when a Walmart tag stuck out of the neck of Sarah’s ill fitting striped jacket.  Poor Cindy McCaine was horrified.  Like the other rich heiress, Paris Hilton, she’d taught one could only shop for walls at “Wall Mart.” 

“They sell suits at Wall Mart?” Cindy said, unable to hide her distaste.  Thin saliva sprayed with each syllable.    

“You betcha!”  Sarah said with gusto, proud to show the rich waif a thing or two about substance over style.

“You can have both, you know? Substance AND style,” said Cindy, guessing correctly what went on inside Sarah’s predictable church force fed brain.  “No disrespect to you, Sarah, but you got some nice hidden assets sweetie, bring them out.”  Cindy pointed her manicured, bejeweled hand at Sarah’s milk engorged breasts.

And in less time than it took Sarah to say “Oh, I don’t know,” she found herself, champagne flute in hand, sitting in a gilt Louie XV chaise at Neiman Marcus, watching a parade of young Cindy look-alike models, wearing the latest fall fashions.  Properly bra fitted, Sarah’s girls stood up in attention like never before.  She felt like Barbarella, or Wonder Woman, ready for her action heroine costume.

“I can see you in that. “ Rialto, the only gay Republican stylist, said pointing with disdain.  An expert seamstress was on hand to alter the special suit. 

The next day Sarah gave a speech wearing a red leather jacket reminiscent of Michael Jackson in “Thriller.”

 No longer flying, Sarah’s been seen moonwalking around the country ever since.