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Never before on the rush hour 6 train had a reshuffling of such importance occurred. With the opening doors the room was sucked away in a gasp, all of us searching for that last drop of air. Waiting to board was a walking tapestry, a battlefield of patterns, the very Queen of Fashion herself. Her eyes were daggers, shielded by a singular Vita Von Yutaakira-Shinnō saber tooth monocle, like the ones I’d seen all the children of 5th Avenue using to obscure their vision, though certainly not to such a reward as this. Sensing her presence, Hasidic babies climbed from their strollers, folding them delicately and placing them somewhere out of sight, making room for the first wave of bangles, spikes and studs. Queen Fashion’s bullet-proof didgeridoo slippers released an ominous hum as she entered the car, each step accompanied by the instruments’ guttural vibrations. A chatter was sent through our teeth; us, the severely less adorned. Her coat was embroidered with beads molded from the powdered bones of baby narwhals and finished with an elegant train made of beaver dam; a true Eskimo chic worn to show solidarity with the struggling tribes of the Baffin Islands in Nunavut.

But there was a commotion. A young man selling fruit snacks a dollar apiece had scampered carelessly past her, snagging the long tent poles of her girdle by Sassy&Beast, and ripping from her garment a decoupage of penguin skins. Shocked and in tatters, the Queen of Fashion quickly rounded.

“YOU!” she said, her voice a towering wall of fashionable sound. The young man, visibly shaken, sank to his knees in repentance. His plump cheeks quivered and his delicate hands shook.

“Please misses!” he said, “I didn’t mean nothin’ by it, I swear!”

It was, however, too late. The Queen raised her right hand, unsheathing from a house cat muff five swords of pink jeweled acrylic, and quickly swiped two marks, a bloody X upon his forehead. Heavy drops of syrupy blood descended the arch of his brow.

“May you be forever damned to denim,” she said, and with that we roundly applauded. Let the beast be marked for eternity! Long live the Queen!

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