Once upon a time, Lisa and Adrienne worked for the same alternative newsweekly. Now, both spend their respective lives mining their creative souls and leading hermit-like lives. And so an idea was hatched. Every week, one would send the other a sketch—either in illustration or word form—and the other would make a companion to the sketch. The result would be posted on both their blogs every week, just for grins. Even if the result isn't award-worthy, the exercise makes both minds more nimble. Hopefully.
Much to the chagrin of Lady Featheringston-Wittengham, her cousin, the Viscountess of Puce, received an invitation to this weekend’s events up to and including the wedding itself. Because, thought the Lady, the royal invitationers failed to take into account the fabulosity of one’s anticipated headgear.
Lady F-W would not dare let slip how deeply green with envy she is, given that her longstanding feud with the Viscountess is more fierce than the pitched battle between the Queen Herself and Sarah Ferguson, that hussy.
Still, thought the Lady F-W, breeding will tell in the end. And like a papered and pedigreed Dartmoor Pony, no matter how glossy her coat or deep her withers, the teeth reveal how the specimen's genetic tree failed to fork.
Text ©Adrienne Martini; illustration ©Lisa Horstman. Until the end of time. Or something.