This is another fairy story.
No matter how much television plays seek to befuddle you into believing there’s no such thing as a happy ending and that life for everybody is a lot of old boots, the fact is nice things do happen to people.
Princes and fairy queens and old harpies on broomsticks don’t play such impressive parts as they used to, but nevertheless, take the story off PINKY SANDS.
There she was, sitting home most nights and wondering what to do about life. Nothing fantastic ever seemed to happen and she couldn’t find a great deal of glamour in her typewriter, especially when it came to changing the ribbon.
Then a man who was photographing the bridesmaids at a wedding saw her looking long-legged and lovely among the guests and said, taking his eye off the bridesmaids so that they came out with their heads cut off, “You look like you ought to be a model, go and apply to an agency.”
So Pinky did just that and the agency said what a willowy wonder she was, and now Pinky rents a cosy little flat in town and is long-leggedly engaged in the glamour world of modelling. No wonder she’s perky.