Bunny

“I really like her use of color. This piece really excites me.” The woman with tall hair pushes her bifocals up an the bridge of her nose with a bony forefinger, squinching up her face and leaning closer to the painting hanging on the wall in front of her.
The man in the guacamole colored suit flicks ashes on the floor and takes a dainty sip of his Lemon-drop, careful to not smear his makeup as he dabs at his lips with a napkin. “It’s truly dramatic the way the reds run to black. I think this is a statement about our society, and the reds represent the West while that pink cottage cheese bit is the middle east, and those potato things there are the people, caught in a situation they did not ask to be in.”
The mute dwarf woman nods her head and grunts in agreement. “Ungh.” With a sudden urgency she pulls a pad from her pocket and scribbles a message on it, holding it in the mans face first, and he pulling it so that the woman with the tall hair can read it also. They all nod in agreement and the woman’s tall hair quivers like jello as she laughs out loud. “By god we may have another Basquiat on our hands! I must find out what the price of this piece is.” The three turn to look around for the agent who is already moving their way. Agents have a certain sixth sense that tells them when someone has set the hook on their own.
She ushers the artist over and there are introductions all around. The woman with the tall hair doesn’t mess around with small talk, but rather turns to the artist, a small blonde girl of 18. “I love this piece- it speaks to me. Can you tell us something about it?”
The artist smiles pleasantly and nods, setting her bottled water on a nearby table.
“Bunny fell in the blender.”