**Happy Birthday MICROPHONE QUEEN**

LadyLee knew that Original Oldgirl Sharon, the Microphone Queen, would be nowhere to be found.

She had said so over on her blog somewhere.

And that only meant one thing:

The Microphone Queen's magic microphone would be left unattended.

LadyLee relished the chance to run on stage and grab that microphone. Her hands caught fire everytime she touched it, for it was always smoking. But no one was around. Maybe it would be cool enough to hold.

LadyLee ran out on the dark stage and stood in front of the gleaming microphone.

"Mike check!" she yelled.

Her voice echoed, as if she was standing on a Swiss mountaintop.

A lone flicker of a flame went up in the back of the dark room!

"Mike check one!" she yelled again. This time, more flames flickered. All of a sudden, Ladylee saw that she was not alone. There were thousands, millions even, of people there, arms in the air, hands clutching Bic lighters with flames ablazing.

"Who the hell are you?!" someone asked.

LadyLee cleared her throat. "I'm LadyLee, The Original Oldgirl!"

All was silent, except for the sound of **crickets** permeating the warm room.

"Where is Sharon?" someone yelled from the left side of the room.

"Yeah!" someone said from the right.

LadyLee heard about this crowd. They just stood around waiting for Sharon to come on stage and address them with something new, fresh, and utterly thought provoking.

No telling what they were thinking when they saw LadyLee take the stage. Sharon's stage, no less.

"She won't be here tonight," LadyLee said. "She's hanging out with her Blog fam over at a Bloggers Delight to Write event tonight."

They all stared at her, their expressions blank.

LadyLee knew she was wrong. Yes, it was Sharon's crowd, and Sharon's smoking platinum microphone, but Ladylee loved the sound of her own voice. She even had a couple of Sharon's poems in her pocket. She reached in her pocket for the folded paper. The crowd loved Sharon's poetry.

There was something coming hard and fast at LadyLee. It was a beer bottle. LadyLee ducked just in time. It smashed and broke against the wall just behind her.

"Get off of Sharon's stage!" someone yelled.

"Yeah!" the crowd yelled.

"You know," LadyLee said. "It's not nice to throw things at people."

More beer bottles flew at the stage. LadyLee ducked them all.

Boos and hisses arose from the crowd. The flames went out one by one, and people turned to leave.

"Wait," LadyLee said. "I have one of her poems. I can recite it."

More boos and hisses.

"You're not Sharon!" a woman yelled. "We want Sharon!"

"No, I'm not Sharon. But I have one thing to say."

"We don't care what you have to say!"

LadyLee lifted the microphone from the stand. It was hot and heavy in her hands. It began to vibrate like crazy.

"I just want to say. . ." LadyLee began. She grabbed the microphone with both hands and tried to hold it steady.

"I just want to say Happy Birthday, Sharon. Happy Birthday Microphone QUEEN!!"

*Ladylee throws microphone down on stage and takes off running. Microphone bursts into flames and explodes into a million pieces.*

Yes. That's what I get for lifting your microphone and walking on your stage.

Happy 43rd Birthday Sharon !
You Original Oldgirl you!!

. . . And many more!