A Very Unique Overcoat

“Well that sure is a strange overcoat, Peasy Lou.” Elsa Mae studied her friend inquisitively, giving her the requisite up-and-down glance. “Now I wonder where you might have picked up such a thing? Was it from Belcher's over in Cotton City? They have the most unusual things, you know.”

It was a hot day, and it did not seem right for Peasy Lou to be wearing such an outer garment. A shawl would have sufficed, or at most a light cardigan. Certainly nothing of this sort.

“Now I wonder, Peasy Lou, darling, is that real or synthetic? I knew a woman over in Cotton City who used to have something not unlike that particular overcoat, and she would wear it to civic functions – to ice cream socials and to Eastern Star dinners. Everybody used to stop and stare, but one year we found out that it was synthetic, and the gilding was off the proverbial lily, you might say. Is that how you say that phrase, anyway, Peasy Lou?”

Peasy Lou just stood very still and tried to attune herself to the trickle of sweat running out of her underarm. It tickled ever so gently as it flowed from her armpit and down the side of her abdomen. The tiny, salty rivulet was absorbed by her clothing, so that it never reached her fine, fine overcoat.

“For heaven's sake, Peasy Lou, I do declare! I would purely love to try on that delicious overcoat if you would not mind...I have just never seen such a thing in such lovely condition. As I said, that woman from Cotton City wore one, but I do believe hers was synthetic, and it was getting rather threadbare by the time I knew her. Do you know that woman, Peasy Lou?”

Peasy Lou shook her head.

“Of course, I suppose this particular overcoat of yours probably would not fit me...seeing as I have a, well, how shall we say...oh, Peasy Lou, I think you know what I mean...you know, a more well-developed, well...a better, umm, I am more amply endowed with...a...well, I think you know what I mean.”

“You've got broader shoulders, you behemoth of a mannish amazon war-beast,” replied Peasy Lou, “here,” she said, stripping the human-hair and domestic cat-skin overcoat from her shoulders and handing it to Elsa Mae, “try on the damned coat.”