And now it's time for installment #53 in the continuing advice column
Hello, Pepperheads! It's me, your fabulous role model,
Pepper Potts, with another column of my internationally syndicated lifestyle column for the go-getter young woman of the 21st century. If you've been reading my advice, you're modern, stylish, sexy, fantastic, and best of all, inside and out you're
Pepperiffic! Because a Pepper Girl doesn't just moan about what she wants...
she takes it! Yeah! Wouldn't
you like to be a Pepper, too? Don't think too hard, girlsthe answer:
yes.
Let's take a look at today's letter, from a Miss J. Foster of Manhattan, New York!
Dear Pepper,
I'm desperately in love with my handsome bossa prestigious New York doctorbut he never seems to have eyes for me aside from business! It's always "Nurse Foster, bring me those files," or "Nurse Foster, please bring in the next patient," or "Nurse Foster, isn't that the Mighty Thor over there?" I try to corner him in the off hours to chat with him, but he closes his door, plays his recording of a thunderstorm, and when I go in to see him, the window is open and he's gone! Worse yet, the only time he perks up around a woman is the times when this six-foot tall Danish or Swedish brunette drops by to visit him, wearing this god-awful white miniskirt dress with a purple cape and (get this) carrying a sword! Then he's all "come in, my dear," and "how lovely to see you again." How do I fix it so that Scandanavian buttinski goes back to her wooden shoes and her tulips, leaving the handsome Donald Bl doctor I referred to earlier all to myself?
J. Foster, you poor dope. Snap out of it! This hunky love-object doctor of yours is obviously so attractive to gorgeous Amazon women that he couldn't beat them away with a wooden cane, even if he had one! So it's time for
you to use all the feminine wiles and pepperosity at your command. Why, I myself was in a similar situation recently when my boss, Mister "S," hired a curvy new assistant who vamped her way across the office trying to get into his pants
and his heart. Uh-uh, you Russian floozy! Only one who gets to touch Mr. "S"'s heart is
yours pepper-truly.
So, as i instruct my Pepperheads to do in every eventuality:
do what Pepper does. Confuse the little harlot, whether she's from Moscow
or Reykjavik, by baffling her wee little strumpet sensesjust tell her an out-and-out fib. Like she's gonna even know...her bra is bigger than her brains!
Panels from Tales of Suspense #51 (March 1964), written by Stan Lee, pencils and inks by Don Heck, letters by Artie Simek
Then, to keep the Muscovite Minx from checking your tiny, harmless, little white...it's not even a
fib, it's a
figure of speech...just make sure that she thinks your boss has
no interest in her, her fabulous body and her enormous pointy bosoms:
Later, of course, when your boss checks to see if Miss Jezebel Tartmeister stopped by, you can say with complete honesty and candor that there certainly
hasn't been a beautiful woman by to see him. You don't even have to keep your fingers crossed, because we all know beauty comes not only from our fabulous designer clothes, expensive hairstyles, and elaborate make-up, but also from "inside." You know, that spleen operation you had last year so that he'd take notice of what a beautiful spleen you had, in the hopes that some day he'd hold you in his manly arms and whisper, "Why, Miss Potts, what a gorgeous spleen you have."
Like he ever notices.
In no time at all it'll be
you escorting Mr. "S" to that afternoon cheap-seat matinee of
Wicked! Make sure he buys you the big popcorn, that cheapskate!
However: beware the dreaded
switcharoo:
So there you go, Nurse Foster...a clever mistruth, a caustic insult, a classic bit of misdirection, and don't forget cutting her brake lines, and you'll be hopping into the boss's lap in no time! Say goodbye to the dreary working week and hello to
Fabulous City, Arizona in your new role as
The Boss's Wife! It's Pepper-tested and Pepper-approved, and if it
doesn't work for you, you obviously fudged it all up. So don't forget there's always a plan B:
So until next time...stay fabulous, stay sexy, stay
Pepperiffic, girls!