This amazing photograph is by the amazing Roger at Circle23 Photography. (Please note: big chunks of his website are NSFW.)
“Dammit, Virginia” said Virginia, “How many times do I have to tell you to keep your dirty whore shoes off the coffee table? I work hard to keep this place nice, and I could use a little help”
“Well, Virginia”, said Virginia smugly, “It’s my table. I paid for it, and I guess I’ll ruin it if I want to.”
Virginia, meanwhile, sat whimpering in the corner, rocking back and forth and crying to herself. “You guys!” she screamed. “WHAT ABOUT VIRGINIA?”
All eyes turned to the coffee table. There, six inches from Virginia’s foot, Virginia’s body sprawled across the table, one hand clutching a shot glass. Her breath had been clouding the glass surface for the last few minutes, but the shapes of her condensed breath had been shrinking and slivering away until now, when no breath appeared. Her lips slowly began to turn blue.
“Wait- wasn’t Virginia supposed to be watching her?” asked Virginia. “Where is she, anyway?”
Virginia, her finger shaking, pointed through the window, out to the sunny balcony, where Virginia was finishing a glass of Champagne, oblivious to the state of her charge.
“Well,” said Virginia, closing her magazine, “Can I have her bedroom?”