The Neighborhood Unicorn

Marty Jo, or MJ, as the guys called her, could have been a model. All of the women instantly envied and hated her—and that was even before she started hanging around their husbands.

The men (and MJ) were watching football in the den. Pizza and beer cans everywhere.

“Killer tackle,” MJ said, belching like a foghorn.

The guys high-fived her. “You’re a god!” one said.

From the patio, the wives looked on in wonder.

“She keeps these guys entertained like a…man-sitter,” one wife marveled.

“And she’s totally harmless,” another added.

“She’s a god!” they said in unison.



Prompt: Sphinx