What Are The Key Themes In Farce: A History From Aristophanes To Woody Allen?

The President. The Vice President. The Senator. The Congresswoman. The Mayor. Behind every power comes with great secrets no one knows about. Five women who will show how dirty and utterly pleasurable politics can be; because no matter how you will look at it... Politics will always be a dirty game.

Hi there. By now, you know about the boys. Those guys who are too handsome to miss … too cocky to ignore … and far too dangerous to get involved with. And you probably figured out … these stories are not officially about them. Not completely. It’s about us. Girls like me. The ones who don’t mean to get pulled in. The ones who know better … but still fall in love. The ones who should have walked away … but didn’t. I wish I could say I was different. That I saw it coming. That I made the smart choice. I didn’t. So here I am. Aria Thompson. The next girl. Next one to fall for a San Francisco Boy. Enrique Lucio Blackburn. Famous actor. International model. Renowned playboy. Beautiful, broken … and completely unreachable. Big mistake. People think they know him. They see the smirk. The fame. The endless string of women. They don’t see the truth. He turned himself into a robot. Untouchable. Emotionless. Enrique Blackburn is allergic to love. And me? I walked straight into his world with a contract in my hand and desperation in my chest. My sister needed treatment. He needed to fix his reputation. So we made a deal. Fake girlfriend. Public appearances. Perfect photos. No sex. No love. No relationship. Simple, right? Yeah … not even close. Because the line between fake and real can get blurred very quickly. He started to matter. And despite the consequences, I let him steal my heart. I have everything to win, but much more to lose. So the real question isn’t whether I can survive this deal … but can I make the man who feels nothing … feel everything? Can I turn fiction into something real? And most importantly … can I make him say the words?

After years of investment from my company, my boyfriend finally broke into show business. At last, he won an Oscar. True to his promise, he married me. Then, during a backstage interview, he said, "It was transactional. I had to marry her in exchange for the funding." His braindead fans came after me soon afterward. They stalked me and, one day, poured sulfuric acid over my face. The attack left me disfigured. He sent me to the hospital, but that was just another part of his scheme. Before long, the world believed I had died from complications. When I returned to life, I decided to invest in someone else. After all, he was the only person who had mourned my death and given me a proper burial.

While doing my girlfriend Bianca White's laundry, I found an envelope with a certified marriage certificate and a wedding photo between her clothes. In the wedding photo against the white background, the young man beside her smiled with bright, reckless confidence. I shook all over and slammed the document down in front of her. Bianca gave it one calm glance, then tapped the young man's face in the photo with her fingertip. "Mason Rivers. You know him. He failed to get into grad school and tried to kill himself last year and I saved him, so we exchanged numbers. He wouldn't have come to me unless he was desperate. "His parents are very controlling. Back home, they were trying to force him into a marriage and give up on his education. As an educator, I couldn't just stand by and watch him die, so I helped him." Bianca said it so casually, as if she had only done him a small favor. However, the marriage certificate and wedding photo would not go away. I stared at it, then suddenly laughed until I almost cried. I had waited eight whole years for that certificate, yet I had never once gotten Bianca to say "Let's get married" even now. I never expected Mason to get it with one sentence.

A young guy keeps getting into trouble in very funny and unfortunate ways. He wrecked havocs on people too, mistakenly. He hallucinated and had great fantasies about people to brighten up his hearers. Afterwards, he came back to his mundane reality.

From the time I was little, something in me was always a little off—I never listened to the whole story, only half of it. My grandmother called me a good-for-nothing who was financially burdening the family. She bought a little boy to be my younger brother and told me to take good care of him. I understood the part about buying a child, so I immediately called the police and reported her for illegal human trafficking. My father pointed at my face and cursed me for being unfilial, accusing me of cutting off his family line. I obeyed him, crept into his room while he slept that night, and used a knife to "cut off his lineage." My father screamed in agony. In the chaos, he accidentally killed me. When I opened my eyes again, I had transmigrated into the female lead of a melodramatic abuse novel. After ten years of marriage to the cruel male lead, his childhood sweetheart had just returned from abroad and was undergoing kidney surgery. He dragged me to the hospital and cruelly ordered me to donate a kidney to his precious first love. I nodded obediently, went out and bought a pig, and on the spot dug out the pig's kidney and handed it to him.