Miss Gloria Hits the Catwalk (Part Three): Gloria Goes Viral

Gloria Goes Viral

Debbie ran into Gloria’s bedroom. “Gloria! Gloria! Wake up. You’ve got to see this.”

Gloria lifted her head. “Huh? What’s going on?”

“You’re all over the internet! Facebook, YouTube, Instagram, Threads, BlueSky, TikTok—everywhere. You’ve got over 650,000 hearts on TikTok. Gloria, you’ve gone viral.”

“Really? Well, I don’t have a fever or body aches. Ha! Gotcha!”

“You’re unbelievable. That picture of you flipping the bird at the fashion show is all over Facebook. You’re an overnight sensation.”

Gloria smiled at the news.

“Okay, we’ve got fifteen minutes before your Vogue interview. Why don’t you wear your paisley blouse with the maroon tie. That always makes a good impression.”

“Ooh, hot choice. Let’s do it.”

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Arriving in Hollywood

The Uber driver dropped Debbie and Gloria at the Sunset Marquis. Alfredo, the concierge, greeted them and escorted them into a sleek self-driving electric car, which carried them to a private villa.

Gloria glanced around the villa. “Well, look at this. You’d think Vogue was setting us up for a weekend of bunga bunga. All I’m doing is one meaningless interview with an overrated fashion magazine that often exploits women.”

“I know!” Debbie was wide-eyed. “But look we have a pool table. This is luxury.”

A soft knock interrupted. Debbie opened the door.

“Miss MacGregor,” Alfredo said with a bow. “I am here to escort Miss Gloria to her poolside table. Miss Julieta Intriago from Vogue is waiting.”

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The Poolside Interview

Alfredo wheeled Gloria to a sunlit table where Julieta Intriago sat sipping a diet soda and nibbling on roasted olives. She stood quickly when she saw Gloria.

“Miss Cupidon, what an honor. You’re an international superstar! Your TikTok post is nearing four million views and has over three million hearts. You are on fire.”

“Oh? Then where’s the fire extinguisher before this spreads into a wildfire?”

“It’s too late for that—you’re a catwalk inferno.”

“Ooh… burn, baby, burn,” Gloria sang, swaying her hands like a disco queen.

Alfredo parked Gloria at the table and excused himself, promising to return in two hours.

“I ordered some hors d’oeuvres. Please, try the shrimp - it’s wonderful.”

“Thank you. Everything looks good, but I’ll skip the shrimp. Seafood puts a frisk in my bounce and makes me want to chase men for some hot boogie oogie - if you know what I mean.”

Julieta burst into laughter, unexpectedly choking on her drink, “You are funny, Gloria.”

“If that’s what you want to call it,” Gloria said dryly.

Julieta dabbed at her mouth. “All right, let’s get to it. When did you begin your modeling career?”

“You know, before I answer that, I have a question for you.”

“Yes?”

“I read up on Vogue last night. Interesting magazine. I’ve decided I’d like to do a nude spread for you.”

Julieta almost spit out her olives cracking up with laughter.

“This isn’t a joke. I’m serious. We can shoot it here at the villa - with me stretched across the pool table.”

This time Julieta sprayed water, coughing with laughter. “Gloria, I believe you, but Vogue doesn’t publish nude spreads.”

“My big toe it doesn’t. I’ve seen Kate Moss bare it all.”

“We’re not pornographic.”

“Fine. Stick some flowers in my armpits and other crevices. And voilà we can call it art.”

“And if that’s not enough,” Gloria leaned forward with a wicked grin, “you can Photoshop a fig leaf the size of Texas to cover my private parts. Lord knows I’ve got a lot of land to cover.”

Julieta shook her head, still giggling. “I can picture it, but no.”

“Listen, you said I’m on fire. You know my cover story will sell magazines. I should have some input.”

“Gloria, you’re ninety-three years old.”

“Excuse me - I’m ninety-three years young.”

Julieta sighed. “Let’s move on. How did you really start your career in modeling?”

“Well, I don’t have a career. Oliver Olivier was standing in line at Walmart in front of me, waiting for the restroom.”

“That’s… unusual.”

“Apparently he liked how I filled out my dress. He gave me his card, tucked it in the pouch on the back of my wheelchair, and said he was doing a fashion show in LA. I told him he was a pervert and that I’d rather kiss a warty frog.”

“But you called him later.”

“Yes, because I saw him on the news that same afternoon. Turns out he was legit.”

Julieta jotted notes. “Thank you for your honesty, Gloria. One last question. What’s next for you? What does the future hold?”

Gloria paused, then smirked. “Well, I imagine my rotting carcass in a pine box buried six feet under.”

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Stay Tuned for the Next Episode of Miss Gloria’s Adventures: On The Cover of Vogue Magazine

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Check out Miss Gloria Hits the Catwalk Part Four Here: