Fiction - The Legion of Ladies

In her four weeks at Miss Glinda's School of Charms, Jane only heard of LoL once. It was during her first Settings class when Miss Glinda was reviewing the difference between a dinner fork, salad fork, shrimp fork, dessert fork and their proper placements. Marcy leaned over and whispered, "When is she going to tell us how the Legion of Ladies actually weaponize these utensils?" Jane tensed with the mention, but Glinda was on the two women in the time it took Jane to unfold her dinner napkin and place it in her lap.

"Pardon me, Miss Marcy, but rudeness will hinder your progress in this coursework as well as your life," Glinda glared down the woman's shoulder on which she had placed her delicate gloved hand.

Marcy, nonplussed by the action, placed her hand on top of her instructor's, and replied, "My apologies, Miss Glinda, but I thought being politely social in all situations was always a lady's first position, particularly at dinner." She winked at Jane in her defiance. Glinda smiled and squeezed Marcy's shoulder before proceeding with her lecture, but said nothing else. And, to Jane's dismay, Marcy stayed silent as well... for all four weeks.

The investigative reporter screaming to get out from behind her gossip column writing career cringed in disbelief. After two years of writing for The Mirror's Page Six, Jane had done enough stories on the fearful  LoL to know not to press unless necessary; their violence was escalating. Hollywood starlets who didn't embrace the seemingly raging trend of old fashioned etiquette were falling into deeper and deeper trouble by the minute. Miranda Lovelace turned up dead after showing up late to the Grammys, Yelena Fresa's mysterious drug overdose one day after she was photographed reaching over a dinner table for the salt and Jennifer Turbin's assassination after she and her husband were filmed arguing in front of their brand new baby, Plum, were all at the hands of this mysterious all female underground militia. All three victims were found with a pink, hand-written thank you note with the same message:

Thank you for being a shining example of what a lady is not to do and for giving us this opportunity to teach the world through you. Rest in the knowledge that your indiscretion will forever be an exemplar we can learn from as we become more gracious beings.
All Our Gratitude Always,
Legion of Ladies

Upon discovering that Miranda, Yelena and Jennifer had all been previously enrolled in Miss Glinda's School, but none had graduated, Jane asked her editor, Mr. Huley, if she could go on assignment to investigate the trendy new school.

On Tuesday afternoon Jane returned to her cubicle in the office of The Mirror unable to ignore how much she had changed in the experience. After dropping a pile of pink scented envelopes in her outgoing mail box she stopped to chat with Mr. Huley's receptionist, Marie on her way to explain her four week failure. Looking at Marie was like looking into a time machine - this is who she was before Miss Glinda's. Marie, with sloping shoulders, was garrulous, chewed gum and casual. Marie would never hand write 37 thank you notes to her peers for the experience of knowing them; Jane could hardly believe she just had.

"Uh-oh, looks like someone drank Miss G's pretty pink Kool-Aide" Marie said, "Look at that catwalk worthy stride!"

Jane laughed and struck a pose, "I feel at least two inches taller."

"You look thinner, too. Maybe I should sign up - my mom would go ape-shit," Marie's gum chewing and language were so obviously disgusting to Jane in a way she had never noticed before. She pushed down her disgust and asked to see Mr. Huley. When Marie disappeared into Huley's office, Jane's cell phone buzzed discreetly in her handbag. She pulled it out to find a text from an unknown number.

The gentlemen have their clubs

while we ladies sip our tea

and old-fashioned as we appear

we'll redesign society.

Modern living and children

are so far out of reach

As a graduate of Glinda's

you are prepared to teach

so kindly reply

if you are in,

but do not do this 

on some whim

because we Ladies are serious.

~LoL

Mr. Huley came to  the door just as Jane finished reading, "So what can you tell me?"

"I'm so sorry, Sir," Jane said softly as she handed him the phone, "I'm not done yet."

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This post was written in response to a prompt described in a post earlier today. To read the prompt and add your own story inspired by it, click HERE.

Thanks for Reading!