New Developments

Extra! Extra! This just in! Hank has a sidekick! I saw him today walking quickly under an umbrella next to a tiny fat pink man with a round chin and eyes shaped like spoons. He was wearing cowboy boots and had a cape that was too long so he kept tripping over it, and then he would look behind him and say "who's there?" They stopped to buy ice cream cones and the pink man ate each scoop in one bite. Then he looked sharply at the sun and said "Stop sparkling!" I followed them to the park and Hank pushed the man on the swings. Then they did pushups. Then Hank blew a whistle while the man ran in place and his fat jiggled. Afterwards Hank clapped and it made the sound of bubble wrap and then they gave each other a high five. I think they are practicing to defeat me!

I am so lonely without a sidekick. Please email me at cigaretteburngirl@gmail.com or leave a comment with your qualifications.

Rejection

When I burn someone with a cigarette and they act like they just don't care.

First cigarettes: Part 1

Elizabeth was never supposed to be born. Like all babies, she learned to cry first. Everything else came so quickly. She learned to smoke cigarettes when she was twelve. She stood outside against the brick wall of a church, tapping the toes of her white patent leather mary janes. Ricky was sitting on the swing opposite her and watching her pray. Elizabeth called God “the sweetness” and that made Ricky laugh inside. He had stolen the pack of cigarettes from a gas station along with two rolls of bubble tape. He handed her one.

            “I’m thinking the sweetness will put more freckles on me for this,” she said, folding a piece of gum into her mouth. “And I’ll be so spotted you won’t be able to see my cheeks anymore.”

            Ricky examined the dimples on her knees. “It’s cool,” he said. Ricky’s first cigarette had been two years earlier, in a basement with his father who was fighting dogs. The crowd was sweaty and shrieking like a collapsing balloon. His father saw him smoking and laughed. “The lord knows you deserve it just like the rest of us,” he said. Then he turned his son around and grabbed the cigarette from his hand, pressing it firmly into his left shoulder blade.

            They smoked four cigarettes in a row and it made Elizabeth have to run behind the perpendicular wall and vomit. “I’m fine!” she yelled to him, but he came anyway. When she picked her head up, he ran his thumb across her lips. “Sweet,” he said. She quickly walked past him and grabbed the matchbox from the woodchips, lighting another one.

            “I’m not sweet,” she said. 

            “Fine,” he said, grabbing the pack out of her hand. He walked away like a dog pulling hard on a leash. 

Sweet Dreams, My Nemesis

I took pictures of Hank while he was sleeping. Unlike me, smoke does not come out of his nose when he snores. Instead, his lips grow and shrink like an inflatable mattress. His plastic body crinkles when he breathes in and out. When he dreams of nice things, he blows kisses into the air. When he dreams of funny things, he snorts and giggles. When he dreams of bad things, he opens and closes his mouth and smashes his sharp teeth together while growling.

Every time I snapped a picture, little hearts came out of the end of my cigarette and I blushed.

Why I must burn Ginny

Ginny sent me a letter. In short, here are her complaints:

1. Ginny dreams about sex and she thinks its punishment. She dreams of having to masturbate in public. She dreams about questions like, "do you like this?" When she wakes up, she never wants breakfast. Not even McDonald's.

2. Ginny's job is a joke. She sells Proactiv Solution over the phone. People call her excited, saying they want new faces. She sells them the crap and then lies in her bed and rolls back and forth like a baby trying to crawl.

3. Ginny's puppy is getting too big for her to walk. He sometimes pulls her into the street. She looks both ways until her neck aches.

4. Ginny used to write poetry and submit it to online contests. She bought five poetry collections featuring her poems before realizing it was a scam. She keeps them in an old guitar case that has a Pink Floyd sticker on it.

5. Ginny hears the word "normal" echoing in her ear when she chews.

Real stomachs don't like celery

Dear Cigarette Burn Girl,

Yesterday, I passed a television store that was playing only Lady Gaga music videos. Where were you?

Love,

Halfred

Cigarette Burn Girl Returns!

After a long recovery from a gasoline accident, I have returned to find a world crankier than I could ever imagine! People are blaming their friends and neighbors for their bad days! I have received over 300 letters from people asking for my help, and I do promise to respond to them in due time. My nemesis, Hank, has been gathering power for three years now, and since I never responded to his dinner invitation, is now even more eager to defeat me. How will I ever be able to fix everything when I'm this sleepy?