Bristle kicks off her two-stop book tour at the Mall of America, AKA tomato central, in the great heartland of rill America. There she meets her most ardent fans, who traveled many minutes and stood in short lines so that they could get a signed copy of their role model’s memoirs.
To avoid the kind of attempted tomatoing that Bristle’s mom got at this mall, the book signing is being held in the back of the bookstore (too bad!) and patrons are being searched for squishy objects (I heard that the tomatoes that guy threw at Sarah were hard. He apparently didn’t quite get the concept of tomato-throwing, and he was a lousy aim).
They aren’t exactly expecting a giant crowd for Bristle’s book signing. Luckily, some of the nuttier fans who came to mom’s signings (like that lady wearing the godawful t-shirt with Sarah’s giant face plastered on it) have apparently decided that they own enough Palin books.
Bristle arrives at the mall.
This is where rill Americans do their book shopping.
Hi everybody! It’s me, Bristle!
I can dance!
Queen of the Mall!
Bristle’s fans eagerly await their signed copy of her book.
Bristle, Bristle! We want to be like you!
Girls, um, it’s not easy being me. I’ve had it rill hard.
Bristle, if it’s a girl I’m naming her after you!
Bristle, my baby-daddy won’t pose for pictures. What should I do?
Um, girls, those baby-daddies are such ass…um…gnats. Get your mom to threaten them.
Bristle, Bristle! Is it better to get married or stay a single teen mom?
(yikes! Who is that in line?)
Um…well…both is better, as long as somebody pays you. Just cancel stuff after you cash the check. My mom does it all the time.
Yup…um…girls, abstinence pays, um…as long as you do it after the baby. Um…at least while people are looking.
I’d better get to signing these books. Security must have the rest of my fans waiting somewhere else in the store.