Hi all,
Sorry for the lack of updates lately. I've been completely swamped on the job front. UnabashedlyBad will be back in action soon!
For now, please enjoy this Mr. Perfect tribute video. RIP, Curt. You'll always be my favorite wrestler.
-F.O.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Chapter 1: Introductions
Well, I can tell by both the handwriting and the wrestling references that time has passed. I’m going to guess that I was 13-14 when I wrote most of these stories, but I didn’t start putting dates next to them until the next marble notebook. Anyhoo, in my advanced age, I decided that calling my heroine “Anjel” was too immature. I figured that Charlotte Theodosia must be a WWF stage name, and that her real name was Angelica Kerris. Never fear, this wasn’t a signal that I was going to start writing compelling prose. It’s all still dreck. Drecky, drecky dreck.
Chapter 1: Introductions
“Allright Ms. Kerris here is your 4 year contract as a fist-aid Nurse to WCW.”
Angelica signed it.
“Congratulations, Ms. Kerris.” Said Ole Anderson
“Thank you, Mr. Watts, Mr. Anderson/”
“You begin tomorrow at 9:00 AM. Bill will show you around the building you’ll be in – the Columbus Areana.” continued Ole.
When they arrived at the areana, Bill Watts showed her her office and where all of the medical supplies were located. He the led her around the rest of the building and to where all of the exits were. [safety first!]
“Now I believe some of the wrestlers are already here—why don’t we go and meet them?” Asked Bill Watts. [what are they doing at an empty arena? And what is Angel going to do when she gets there tomorrow at 9 AM? I’ve been to plenty of wrestling cards, and they pretty much all start at night]
Mr. Watts led her to the “Face” dressing room. The Columbus Arena was small, so all of the “good guys” shared a dressing room, and all of the “bad guys” shared another. [ooh, I’m getting closer to a realistic portrayal of dressing rooms.]
Mr. Watts knocked on the door. Angelica smoothed her pure white nurse’s outfit. “Everybody I’d like you to meet WCW’s new nurse, Ms. Angelica Kerris.”
“Well, Mr. Watts, everybody is just me.” Said a male voice with a Georgian accent. [Ang just can’t get away from those Georgia peaches]. Out of the dressing room stepped a man with brown hair. ??He was wearing a tee-shirt and jeans. He offered his hand to Angelica.
“Nice to meet you” said Angelica gazing into his deep pools of brown eyes [eew?]. He was gorgeous. A living dream.
“Likewise. My name is Marcus Alexander Bagwell. My friends call me Marc.”
“I’m Angelica, but my nickname is Angel.”
“By the looks of you, the name fits.” [hurl!]
She blushed. They stared at each other for a few more seconds. Then they both looked away, embarrassed that Bill Watts was looking on. “See you around Angel.” “You too Marc.”
They left the Dressing Room and headed for the “heel” Dressing Room.
“Don’t expect the same respect from this bunch.” Mr. Watts said and knocked on the door.
“C’mon in, make it quick” called a male voice with a deep, gravely sound. In the room, Mr. Watts introduced Rick Rude, Bobby Eaton, Arn Anderson, and Leon White (aka Big Van Vader).
“Hey guys, check it out!” Said the gravely voice, belonging to Big Van Vader. He whistled.
“Hey Leon, whatsa matter, never seen a lady before?” said Rick Rude.
“Probably not.” Laughed Arn.
“Shut up!” grunted Vader.
“Okay, all of you, calm down. This is Angelica Kerris, WCW’s new nurse.” Said Bill Watts.
“Well, Well. Ms. Kerris, I do believe you’ll be seeing many of my opponents in your infirmary, even though I’m sure you’d rather see more of me.” Said Rick Rude, kissing the air.
Vader and Arn laughed. Rick, Vader and Arn all left the dressing room. Bobby rose and said: “Welcome to WCW, Ms. Kerris. Don’t mind my friends, they’re always like that.” he smiled a little and offered her his hand. “I’m Bobby Eaton.”
“Nice to meet you, Bobby.”
“Nice to meet you too, now if you’ll excuse me I have to go join my friends.” He left and so did Bill and Angel. “He seems nice.” Angel said, Bill Watts said nothing. Bill left Angel in her office to prepare for the upcoming card. Meanwhile Bobby had caught up with Rick, Leon, and his best friend, Arn in the halls.
“Hey Bob.” Greeted Arn.
“Hey.” He said back. [good GOLLY this is going slowly. Why was I so obsessed with documenting every nicety?]
“So were you flirting with the nurse, or just sucking up to the V.P.?” teased Leon.
“Hey, Hey, Hey! Now Leon, we all know Bobby isn’t that type of guy. He was definitely hitting on her!” joked Rick.
“I was just trying to make a friend.” He said glaring at them both. “Good friends are hard to find around here” [BURN!] he said and walked away. Arn walked after him.
“Hey Bobby, lighten up. They were only joking around. Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little?” said Arn.
Bobby looked down and sighed. “I guess I am. It’s just that those guys make me so mad sometimes I could just spit nails.”
“Yeah those guys get to me too sometimes. Hey, what did go on between you and that nurse?”
“All I did was say that it was nice to meet her and I introduced myself. I don’t believe you’d actually ask me that. I expected you of all people to understand that I love my wife and wouldn’t even think of glancing at another woman like that.”
“Sorry.” Said Arn. In truth, Arn was shocked that Bobby had said that much. Bobby was a man of few words. Hey, let’s get to the gym, we’ve got to train for our match tonight.” Bobby nodded and they continued down the hall.
Bobby’s friendship with Angelica would prove to be one of the best he’d ever had. She stuck by him when things with Arn weren’t going so smoothly…….
Coming up next: Chapter 2: New Friends, New Enemies, in which Angel meets a bunch more people, most of whom you’ll never see again. Bonus: an African-American character with “street smarts” … I’m so, so, sorry, world.
Notes:
1) Y’all, Marcus Alexander Bagwell was totally a hottie back in the day.
2) Ok, Bobby Eaton. I think I can explain this one. I didn’t think he was hot, and he wasn’t a particularly exciting wrestler to watch. I was just fixated on him for a while because I read an interview in a wrestling magazine where he was described as “a man of few words.” He was indeed particularly taciturn in the interview. And that to me seemed endlessly fascinating for whatever reason. Interesting side note: I totally dated a couple guys just because I thought that because they were quiet, they were interesting. In actuality, they were either completely boring or completely crazy.
3) I know that was kind of dull. It gets better. I promise.
Chapter 1: Introductions
“Allright Ms. Kerris here is your 4 year contract as a fist-aid Nurse to WCW.”
Angelica signed it.
“Congratulations, Ms. Kerris.” Said Ole Anderson
“Thank you, Mr. Watts, Mr. Anderson/”
“You begin tomorrow at 9:00 AM. Bill will show you around the building you’ll be in – the Columbus Areana.” continued Ole.
When they arrived at the areana, Bill Watts showed her her office and where all of the medical supplies were located. He the led her around the rest of the building and to where all of the exits were. [safety first!]
“Now I believe some of the wrestlers are already here—why don’t we go and meet them?” Asked Bill Watts. [what are they doing at an empty arena? And what is Angel going to do when she gets there tomorrow at 9 AM? I’ve been to plenty of wrestling cards, and they pretty much all start at night]
Mr. Watts led her to the “Face” dressing room. The Columbus Arena was small, so all of the “good guys” shared a dressing room, and all of the “bad guys” shared another. [ooh, I’m getting closer to a realistic portrayal of dressing rooms.]
Mr. Watts knocked on the door. Angelica smoothed her pure white nurse’s outfit. “Everybody I’d like you to meet WCW’s new nurse, Ms. Angelica Kerris.”
“Well, Mr. Watts, everybody is just me.” Said a male voice with a Georgian accent. [Ang just can’t get away from those Georgia peaches]. Out of the dressing room stepped a man with brown hair. ??He was wearing a tee-shirt and jeans. He offered his hand to Angelica.
“Nice to meet you” said Angelica gazing into his deep pools of brown eyes [eew?]. He was gorgeous. A living dream.
“Likewise. My name is Marcus Alexander Bagwell. My friends call me Marc.”
“I’m Angelica, but my nickname is Angel.”
“By the looks of you, the name fits.” [hurl!]
She blushed. They stared at each other for a few more seconds. Then they both looked away, embarrassed that Bill Watts was looking on. “See you around Angel.” “You too Marc.”
They left the Dressing Room and headed for the “heel” Dressing Room.
“Don’t expect the same respect from this bunch.” Mr. Watts said and knocked on the door.
“C’mon in, make it quick” called a male voice with a deep, gravely sound. In the room, Mr. Watts introduced Rick Rude, Bobby Eaton, Arn Anderson, and Leon White (aka Big Van Vader).
“Hey guys, check it out!” Said the gravely voice, belonging to Big Van Vader. He whistled.
“Hey Leon, whatsa matter, never seen a lady before?” said Rick Rude.
“Probably not.” Laughed Arn.
“Shut up!” grunted Vader.
“Okay, all of you, calm down. This is Angelica Kerris, WCW’s new nurse.” Said Bill Watts.
“Well, Well. Ms. Kerris, I do believe you’ll be seeing many of my opponents in your infirmary, even though I’m sure you’d rather see more of me.” Said Rick Rude, kissing the air.
Vader and Arn laughed. Rick, Vader and Arn all left the dressing room. Bobby rose and said: “Welcome to WCW, Ms. Kerris. Don’t mind my friends, they’re always like that.” he smiled a little and offered her his hand. “I’m Bobby Eaton.”
“Nice to meet you, Bobby.”
“Nice to meet you too, now if you’ll excuse me I have to go join my friends.” He left and so did Bill and Angel. “He seems nice.” Angel said, Bill Watts said nothing. Bill left Angel in her office to prepare for the upcoming card. Meanwhile Bobby had caught up with Rick, Leon, and his best friend, Arn in the halls.
“Hey Bob.” Greeted Arn.
“Hey.” He said back. [good GOLLY this is going slowly. Why was I so obsessed with documenting every nicety?]
“So were you flirting with the nurse, or just sucking up to the V.P.?” teased Leon.
“Hey, Hey, Hey! Now Leon, we all know Bobby isn’t that type of guy. He was definitely hitting on her!” joked Rick.
“I was just trying to make a friend.” He said glaring at them both. “Good friends are hard to find around here” [BURN!] he said and walked away. Arn walked after him.
“Hey Bobby, lighten up. They were only joking around. Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little?” said Arn.
Bobby looked down and sighed. “I guess I am. It’s just that those guys make me so mad sometimes I could just spit nails.”
“Yeah those guys get to me too sometimes. Hey, what did go on between you and that nurse?”
“All I did was say that it was nice to meet her and I introduced myself. I don’t believe you’d actually ask me that. I expected you of all people to understand that I love my wife and wouldn’t even think of glancing at another woman like that.”
“Sorry.” Said Arn. In truth, Arn was shocked that Bobby had said that much. Bobby was a man of few words. Hey, let’s get to the gym, we’ve got to train for our match tonight.” Bobby nodded and they continued down the hall.
Bobby’s friendship with Angelica would prove to be one of the best he’d ever had. She stuck by him when things with Arn weren’t going so smoothly…….
Coming up next: Chapter 2: New Friends, New Enemies, in which Angel meets a bunch more people, most of whom you’ll never see again. Bonus: an African-American character with “street smarts” … I’m so, so, sorry, world.
Notes:
1) Y’all, Marcus Alexander Bagwell was totally a hottie back in the day.
2) Ok, Bobby Eaton. I think I can explain this one. I didn’t think he was hot, and he wasn’t a particularly exciting wrestler to watch. I was just fixated on him for a while because I read an interview in a wrestling magazine where he was described as “a man of few words.” He was indeed particularly taciturn in the interview. And that to me seemed endlessly fascinating for whatever reason. Interesting side note: I totally dated a couple guys just because I thought that because they were quiet, they were interesting. In actuality, they were either completely boring or completely crazy.
3) I know that was kind of dull. It gets better. I promise.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Chapter 14: A Turn of Events
Just in case it’s not painfully obvious, I was pretty sick of Marty. Here is his swan song. It’s a particularly inelegant sendoff. But not quite as inelegant as Bru’s.
Chapter 14: A Turn of Events
Marty had not come home last night. Anjel sat in her room in a hotel in Maine, worrying when he finally came home at 7:00 AM he fell fast asleep on his couch. She walked through his open door she nearly tripped over a briefcase she picked it up and it fell open a piece of U.S.A. Wrestle World. [woah run on sentence] It was a very respectable magazine. She opened it and read it while walking back to her room. It was about Marty Jannetty who had just arrived in the USWF! He had a scantily clad manager named Magnificent Marie. There was a picture of Marty and Marie in a liplock. Marie had long flowing black hair that fell to her waist [sound familiar?]. Anjel also read that Marty, when asked about former manager and perhaps even lover, he said “Anjel? Sure we had something—for maybe 5 seconds. Just another pretty face. Dumb Blonde. Now Marie …”
DUMB BLONDE!! She began to cry, which she hardly ever did. [?!?!] She loved him and she was just another pretty face. She cried harder than she had ever cried before. Her phone rang. Mr. Perfect heard the phone. He knocked on her door and opened it when there was no answer. He saw her crying.
“Anjel, honey, what’s wrong?” she handed him the clipping, minus the photo, and he hugged her tightly after reading it. Brutus heard the commotion and came in.
“Oh my gosh, what happened?” Anjel handed him the magazine clipping. He touched her on her shoulder and said “Don’t worry I’ll go talk to him.” He went into Marty’s dressing room and woke him from his sleep.
“Whaaaaa? Brutus? Go away! I’m sleeping.” He said in a murmur.
Brutus flicked the lights on and shoved the article in his face. “What the heck do you think you were doing?” he said [woah awkward verb tenses]
“Oh, this? Well it’s all true. I don’t need her. I’m officially leaving on Tuesday.” He said rubbing his eyes.
“You scum! She saved your life! How could you just toss her aside?”
“It’s a free country!” [touché] he said, now awake. “Now, Please, get out.”
Brutus shook his head in disgust. He left the room and went into Anjel’s room.
“Look Anjel, I know that this is not the best time to tell you this, but I’m moving back to San Francisco.” Said Brutus. “I’ll write. I promise you. My plane leaves in ½ an hour. I’ll miss you so much.” He said and kissed her goodbye. He left before he could cry in front of Mr. Perfect [hallelujah]
“The nerve of that guy! You think he’d tell you in advance! How could he drop a bombshell on you with that kind of impact. Especially now.” said Mr. Perfect
Anjel sobbed “My whole life is falling apart.”
Mr. Perfect squoze her tightly. “Don’t worry, Anjel. Everything will turn out OK. Every thing is going to be OK” he soothed. “Look, I know how you feel. When Nightshade left me, I thought things could not get any worse, but now with Bobby and Ric Hating my guts, I guess they did. [now there are some words of encouragement]. But, Anjel, I want you to remember one thing no matter how bad things get for either of us (pause) I’ll always love you.” [somebody cue Whitney Houston]
She locked eyes with him and replied, in a quavering voice “I’ll always love you, too. Forever.” She swallowed and said “Thank you so much. You don’t know how much better you made me feel by saying that.” They just kind of sat like that for a while, with Mr. Perfect’s arms around Anjel’s shoulders. He did not want to leave her until he was sure she would be OK. Finally after along time spent talking softly to one another about things like their childhood, their parents, ad their homes, anything to keep Anjel’s mind off of Current times Anjel fell asleep on Mr. Perfect’s shoulder. Being tired himself, he gently laid her down on the couch and spread a blanket over her, trying hard not to awake her [or the readers. Zzzz]
Anjel awoke around 11:00 AM next morning. Painful memories of the night before came back. She showered and changed her clothes.
The next two weeks were hard. Anjel had never felt so alone in her life. Mr. Perfect was there for her, but ever since his split with Flair, he’d been obsessed with revenge. Anjel needed a job—badly. [what, no offers to be a doctor?] She had gone to countless job interviews, filled out infinate resumes until one day, she found a job. She was over-qualified for it and knew that it was something that she would enjoy doing. It was time to begin a new life. With her new career as a first aid Nurse for WCW.
THE END???
This is not the end. It is merely the beginning of a new life for Anjel, with new relationships, new enemies, and most importantly, new friends. Continued in BOOK 2 – Angelica’s New Life
NOTES:
1) Why is Marty carrying around magazine clippings in a briefcase? Wait, why does Marty even have a briefcase? He’s a professional wrestler, not an investment banker.
2) Man. Brutus has some timing in announcing his trip back to SF. I wonder if he’s trying to get me to write Reunited Part III.
3) So by this point in my career as a wrestling fan, I was starting to like WCW more than WWF. No, this has nothing to do with the Monday Night Wars or the Outsiders or any of the stuff that made WCW popular in the Nitro era. This was 1993. The Hollywood Blondes, Dustin Rhodes, Barry Windham, 2 Cold Scorpio … why did I get so obsessed? No clue. But I did. And I decided that I needed to shake things up. So off to WCW goes our sparkling Mary Sue! But what horrible allergies and fonts of tears await her there? You’ll find out in … Chapter 1: Introductions. [Yes, I restarted the chapters. Hey, it's a free country!]
Chapter 14: A Turn of Events
Marty had not come home last night. Anjel sat in her room in a hotel in Maine, worrying when he finally came home at 7:00 AM he fell fast asleep on his couch. She walked through his open door she nearly tripped over a briefcase she picked it up and it fell open a piece of U.S.A. Wrestle World. [woah run on sentence] It was a very respectable magazine. She opened it and read it while walking back to her room. It was about Marty Jannetty who had just arrived in the USWF! He had a scantily clad manager named Magnificent Marie. There was a picture of Marty and Marie in a liplock. Marie had long flowing black hair that fell to her waist [sound familiar?]. Anjel also read that Marty, when asked about former manager and perhaps even lover, he said “Anjel? Sure we had something—for maybe 5 seconds. Just another pretty face. Dumb Blonde. Now Marie …”
DUMB BLONDE!! She began to cry, which she hardly ever did. [?!?!] She loved him and she was just another pretty face. She cried harder than she had ever cried before. Her phone rang. Mr. Perfect heard the phone. He knocked on her door and opened it when there was no answer. He saw her crying.
“Anjel, honey, what’s wrong?” she handed him the clipping, minus the photo, and he hugged her tightly after reading it. Brutus heard the commotion and came in.
“Oh my gosh, what happened?” Anjel handed him the magazine clipping. He touched her on her shoulder and said “Don’t worry I’ll go talk to him.” He went into Marty’s dressing room and woke him from his sleep.
“Whaaaaa? Brutus? Go away! I’m sleeping.” He said in a murmur.
Brutus flicked the lights on and shoved the article in his face. “What the heck do you think you were doing?” he said [woah awkward verb tenses]
“Oh, this? Well it’s all true. I don’t need her. I’m officially leaving on Tuesday.” He said rubbing his eyes.
“You scum! She saved your life! How could you just toss her aside?”
“It’s a free country!” [touché] he said, now awake. “Now, Please, get out.”
Brutus shook his head in disgust. He left the room and went into Anjel’s room.
“Look Anjel, I know that this is not the best time to tell you this, but I’m moving back to San Francisco.” Said Brutus. “I’ll write. I promise you. My plane leaves in ½ an hour. I’ll miss you so much.” He said and kissed her goodbye. He left before he could cry in front of Mr. Perfect [hallelujah]
“The nerve of that guy! You think he’d tell you in advance! How could he drop a bombshell on you with that kind of impact. Especially now.” said Mr. Perfect
Anjel sobbed “My whole life is falling apart.”
Mr. Perfect squoze her tightly. “Don’t worry, Anjel. Everything will turn out OK. Every thing is going to be OK” he soothed. “Look, I know how you feel. When Nightshade left me, I thought things could not get any worse, but now with Bobby and Ric Hating my guts, I guess they did. [now there are some words of encouragement]. But, Anjel, I want you to remember one thing no matter how bad things get for either of us (pause) I’ll always love you.” [somebody cue Whitney Houston]
She locked eyes with him and replied, in a quavering voice “I’ll always love you, too. Forever.” She swallowed and said “Thank you so much. You don’t know how much better you made me feel by saying that.” They just kind of sat like that for a while, with Mr. Perfect’s arms around Anjel’s shoulders. He did not want to leave her until he was sure she would be OK. Finally after along time spent talking softly to one another about things like their childhood, their parents, ad their homes, anything to keep Anjel’s mind off of Current times Anjel fell asleep on Mr. Perfect’s shoulder. Being tired himself, he gently laid her down on the couch and spread a blanket over her, trying hard not to awake her [or the readers. Zzzz]
Anjel awoke around 11:00 AM next morning. Painful memories of the night before came back. She showered and changed her clothes.
The next two weeks were hard. Anjel had never felt so alone in her life. Mr. Perfect was there for her, but ever since his split with Flair, he’d been obsessed with revenge. Anjel needed a job—badly. [what, no offers to be a doctor?] She had gone to countless job interviews, filled out infinate resumes until one day, she found a job. She was over-qualified for it and knew that it was something that she would enjoy doing. It was time to begin a new life. With her new career as a first aid Nurse for WCW.
THE END???
This is not the end. It is merely the beginning of a new life for Anjel, with new relationships, new enemies, and most importantly, new friends. Continued in BOOK 2 – Angelica’s New Life
NOTES:
1) Why is Marty carrying around magazine clippings in a briefcase? Wait, why does Marty even have a briefcase? He’s a professional wrestler, not an investment banker.
2) Man. Brutus has some timing in announcing his trip back to SF. I wonder if he’s trying to get me to write Reunited Part III.
3) So by this point in my career as a wrestling fan, I was starting to like WCW more than WWF. No, this has nothing to do with the Monday Night Wars or the Outsiders or any of the stuff that made WCW popular in the Nitro era. This was 1993. The Hollywood Blondes, Dustin Rhodes, Barry Windham, 2 Cold Scorpio … why did I get so obsessed? No clue. But I did. And I decided that I needed to shake things up. So off to WCW goes our sparkling Mary Sue! But what horrible allergies and fonts of tears await her there? You’ll find out in … Chapter 1: Introductions. [Yes, I restarted the chapters. Hey, it's a free country!]
Friday, August 15, 2008
Bitter Words, Part II
Bitter Words, Part II
So I basically have two main tropes so far: allergies and crying. I have no idea why. At any rate, I present to you a thrilling sequel that features both!
Bitter Words, Part II:
3 days later
As Mr. Perfect sat in his room opening his mail he started to sneeze. He could hardly stop to take a breath. Fourtunately he sneezed very loudly and Anjel could hear him 2 doors down. She entered his room through his open door.
“My Gosh, I’ve never heard anyone sneeze so much! Are you OK?” she asked
He couldn’t say much. He just kept sneezing. She noticed a trace of perfume in the air and recognized it as her favorite, Tropical Mist. Wait a minute! It was coming from a note on the table. She picked it up and ran into the hall with it. She heard him stop sneezing and tore open the letter. A thought crossed her mind. She was reading someone else’s mail!
She dismissed the thought and read the letter.
“God Bless You” – Hatefully Yours, Nightshade [I drew a crescent moon next to her signature]
She entered Mr. P’s room.
“Are you allright?” she asked. He nodded and she washed her hands.
“It was from Nightshade, wasn’t it?” he asked. She sat down next to him.
“I’m sorry, Mr. P.” said Anjel sympathetically.
He drew in a deep breath and sighed. There was an akward moment of silence. Anjel studied his face for his feeling, but he didn’t show them.
“How’s Marty?” he asked her. “He’s out of the hospital, but he has been acting very, very strange even before the match. He’s never home, he never tells me where he’s going, and comes back exausted and sometimes angry. More than once I’ve noticed some bruises or cuts. When I ask him about it he goes nuts on me!” she told Mr. Perfect [gee, did I drop enough anvils there?] “I just don’t get it anymore” she said
Mr. P. sneezed again. He looked sadder than ever. Poor thing. He’ll never be able to sneeze without thinking of Nightshade. She touched his shoulder. “You can talk to me if you want. It’s probably better for you not to bottle up your feelings. It’s been almost a month. I know how I get when I can’t talk to someone.” she said.
“Well, I’m not you!” he snapped. “I’m sorry Anjel, you know my temper.”
“It’s allright.” she said.
“No, it’s not, I can’t let Nightshade do this to me. After all we meant to each other, she ended our relationship. But it was my fault, too. (He sighs) I never should have said some of those things. I wish I could take it all back. I wish I’d never signed that match. (pause) But wishing won’t get us together. Nothing will. We are through. I loved her, Anjel.” He brushed away his tears, but more came. He stood, ending the touch of Anjel’s comforting arm around his shoulder.
“Are you going to be O.K.?” she asked.
“Yes, Thank you, Anjel.” he said and kissed her cheek.
NOTES
1) Anjel’s head injury must’ve been nearly fatal considering all the hospitalization. My dad had a wicked concussion once from trying to ice skate down our driveway … he spent like 6 hours at the hospital.
2) Don’t worry. You didn’t see the last of that evil vixen, Nightshade. She’s not going to forget about our poor little Mary Sue.
COMING UP NEXT: Chapter 14: A Turn of Events, in which all those Marty anvils hit the floor in a completely ridiculous fashion.
So I basically have two main tropes so far: allergies and crying. I have no idea why. At any rate, I present to you a thrilling sequel that features both!
Bitter Words, Part II:
3 days later
As Mr. Perfect sat in his room opening his mail he started to sneeze. He could hardly stop to take a breath. Fourtunately he sneezed very loudly and Anjel could hear him 2 doors down. She entered his room through his open door.
“My Gosh, I’ve never heard anyone sneeze so much! Are you OK?” she asked
He couldn’t say much. He just kept sneezing. She noticed a trace of perfume in the air and recognized it as her favorite, Tropical Mist. Wait a minute! It was coming from a note on the table. She picked it up and ran into the hall with it. She heard him stop sneezing and tore open the letter. A thought crossed her mind. She was reading someone else’s mail!
She dismissed the thought and read the letter.
“God Bless You” – Hatefully Yours, Nightshade [I drew a crescent moon next to her signature]
She entered Mr. P’s room.
“Are you allright?” she asked. He nodded and she washed her hands.
“It was from Nightshade, wasn’t it?” he asked. She sat down next to him.
“I’m sorry, Mr. P.” said Anjel sympathetically.
He drew in a deep breath and sighed. There was an akward moment of silence. Anjel studied his face for his feeling, but he didn’t show them.
“How’s Marty?” he asked her. “He’s out of the hospital, but he has been acting very, very strange even before the match. He’s never home, he never tells me where he’s going, and comes back exausted and sometimes angry. More than once I’ve noticed some bruises or cuts. When I ask him about it he goes nuts on me!” she told Mr. Perfect [gee, did I drop enough anvils there?] “I just don’t get it anymore” she said
Mr. P. sneezed again. He looked sadder than ever. Poor thing. He’ll never be able to sneeze without thinking of Nightshade. She touched his shoulder. “You can talk to me if you want. It’s probably better for you not to bottle up your feelings. It’s been almost a month. I know how I get when I can’t talk to someone.” she said.
“Well, I’m not you!” he snapped. “I’m sorry Anjel, you know my temper.”
“It’s allright.” she said.
“No, it’s not, I can’t let Nightshade do this to me. After all we meant to each other, she ended our relationship. But it was my fault, too. (He sighs) I never should have said some of those things. I wish I could take it all back. I wish I’d never signed that match. (pause) But wishing won’t get us together. Nothing will. We are through. I loved her, Anjel.” He brushed away his tears, but more came. He stood, ending the touch of Anjel’s comforting arm around his shoulder.
“Are you going to be O.K.?” she asked.
“Yes, Thank you, Anjel.” he said and kissed her cheek.
NOTES
1) Anjel’s head injury must’ve been nearly fatal considering all the hospitalization. My dad had a wicked concussion once from trying to ice skate down our driveway … he spent like 6 hours at the hospital.
2) Don’t worry. You didn’t see the last of that evil vixen, Nightshade. She’s not going to forget about our poor little Mary Sue.
COMING UP NEXT: Chapter 14: A Turn of Events, in which all those Marty anvils hit the floor in a completely ridiculous fashion.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Chapter 14: "Bitter Words"
(new here? Howdy! Please read the introduction first!)
This is the first one to feature any actual in-ring action. Not very much in-ring action, but at least it doesn’t take place entirely within someone’s “dressing room.” Actually, this wasn’t that bad in terms of an actually plausible wrestling angle. In terms of a well-written piece of literature, of course, it fails miserably. Enjoy!
Chapter 14: Bitter Words [these chapter titles are seriously starting to sound like titles of Sweet Valley High books]
The phone rang in Anjel’s room.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Ms. Theodosia, this is President Jack Tunney.”
“Hello Mr. President. What can I do for you?”
“I need your OK on a match pitting Marty Jannetty against Ric Flair.”
“When is it to be held?”
“7:15 PM at the Chyenne Civic Center.”
“Yes sir. What date sir?” (what a ditz!) [actually, that was me covering for me there. I wrote this story in pen and decided it was easier to have him ask a follow-up question than self-edit. Sucks to be you, Tunney.]
“May 23”
“Yes sir. I believe we are free sir. Thank you, Mr. President.”
“Good, see you in Wisconsin. Goodbye”
CLICK!
What an idiot! Cheyanne is in Wyoming! Oh well [see above]
Anjel walked into the hall and was about to relay the news to Marty when a thought hit her. OH NO! Mr. Perfect manages Ric Flair! What am I going to do?
She went and told her protégé. [Marty is her protégé?] the info about the match. Marty noticed something odd about her – he could sense it but he didn’t bring it up [probably because that would require him to have lines]. She left his room and went into her own. She dialed Mr. P’s phone number. Busy. It must be Jack Tunney. 20 minutes later Mr. Perfect knocked on her door.
“Come in.” she said.
He entered, his face looking grim. He heard the news.
“Hi.” Anjel said.
“Funny Jack Tunney?”
“Yeah.”
“Anjel, I’m paid to be an aid for Ric Flair. I’m paid to win matches.”
“Me too.” she admitted.
“It means that I might have to resort to cheating, or hurting Marty. I’ve got to do anything to win.” he said.
“I understand.”
“But I promise you, I won’t do anything to hurt you.”
“Me neither.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Temporary enemies.” They shook hands, smiled, and Anjel left.
7:15, Cheyanne W.Y.
With Nightshade leading the way and Mr. Perfect and Ric Flair following behind.
Anjel gave Marty a last minute pep-talk and left the ring.
The match raged on using foreign objects often Ric Flair was eventually disqualified for being seen with a steel chair. Marty was nearly unconscious and Anjel was close to tears. She stepped into the ring and helped him onto a stretcher. She was about to go with him when a strong hand grasped her wrist. “Ow!” she whirled to see Ric Flair holding her.
“Whoo!” He screamed in her face. He slapped her. She slapped him back quickly. He raised his hand to punch her but Mr. P. held him back. He spoke softly to him. Mr. Perfect finally convinced his boss to stop.
Meanwhile Night shade had snuck up to Anjel and slipped on Brass knucks. She reared up behind her and WHAM! Right on the back of the head!
-ANJEL- [shifting perspectives again! Just like the pilot episode!]
He was going to hit me – but Mr. P. stopped him. How wonderful of him! I Want to … OW!”
-GORILLA- [as in Monsoon. One of the best commentators ever!]
I don’t believe it! This whole thing was set up by that rat Mr. Perfect. He distratcted Anjel by stopping Ric Flair so Nightshade could hit her. How Horrible.
----------------
Mr. Perfect didn’t notice what happened until he saw Anjel out cold on the mat. Then he saw N.S. blowing off her brass knuckled hand. Ric Flair left and N.S. followed. Mr. P knelt over her limp body.
-GORILLA-
Now what? He’s going to punch her with lead-filled gloves?
-------------------------------
Mr. Perfect touched the bump on the back of her head very lightly. She was bleeding. He removed his jacket and held it beneath her head. He lifted her up tenderly and placed her on the stretcher.
--------------------
-GORILLA-
… I don’t understand!
-------------------------------
Anjel was wheeled to Cheyanne Medical center – the hospital where Marty was being treated. Mr. Perfect walked back to Ric Flair’s room with a mixture of feelings. Concern for Anjel’s health, and anger because Nightshade would do something like that.
N.S. had watched the whole ordeal of Mr. Perfect -the man she loved- actually HELP that little blonde bimbo – what’s her name—Anjel! What the hell is he doing?
--10 min later—
Mr. Perfect enters room … N.S. flew into a rage “How could you! You little traitor!! You fink! What do you think you were doing out there?”
“Me! Me! You were the one who hit her on the back of the head with brass knucks!”
“So?”
“So? So?” he repeated.
“You’re upset.”
“How can you tell?” He asked sarcastically.
“You’re repeating yourself.”
“Repeating myself! Repeating myself! No way!” [rotflolllllll!1!1!!]
“What are you so mad about? That’s my job.” She told him.
“You’re not paid to Pearl Harbor people!”
“Well you do it sometimes.”
“That’s only when Ric Flair is in trouble. Anjel posed no threat to his career.”
“Oh, now I’m totally confused. Which side are you on? Why are you sticking up for that bimbo?” [Nightshade is totally my favorite character so far, btw]
“I am not sticking up for her, and don’t call her a bimbo!”
“Ha Ha Ha! Now I see it. You two timer! How could you! You’ve got a relationship with that dumb blonde!”
“Her name is Anjel, and she is one of the greatest friends I’ve ever had. Not that that would’ve made a difference.”
“Oh, and what does that mean?”
“It means that even if you knew we were friends you would’ve hit her anyway.”
“Maybe.” she said frostily “What’s so great about her, anyway. What’s she got that I don’t?” [dangerous question to ask about a Mary Sue, Shady.]
“She’s nice and kind and most of all she cares about my feelings. That’s more than I can ever say for you. The only person you can feel for is Night Shade. I don’t understand what I ever saw in you – Sunny Tyler.”
Noone spoke. They both looked at each other with anger in their eyes.
“I hate you, Curt Hennig.” she said and slammed the door behind her.
“Sheesh!” said The Mountie as N.S. flew by him, nearly ramming into him. He saw his friend on the bed. His face was in his hands.
“Hey, what’s the problem, buddy?”
“Long story.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Sorry, Jaques.” He shook his head.
“It’s ok I understand” he said and patting him on the back and closed the door behind him softly.
--------------------
Every day Mr. Perfect came in to visit Anjel in the hospital. She needed 29 stitches for her head. She had a concussions and some bruises, but she was recovering beautifully. [can Anjel do anything in any way besides beautifully?]
-----------
1 ½ weeks later
Anjel was finally able to get out of her hospital bed and walk around. She was moved into her dressing room. Her head still ached terribly, though. Mr. Perfect was still depressed, Nightshade’s words hurt him so deeply not even Anjel could help him. Anjel felt terrible about Mr. Perfect. His heart had been broken because he had helped her. She had spent so many hours trying to comfort him and make him feel better, but it just wasn’t helping.
Nightshade quit her job as the Executive Consultette to go back to being a sales representive. She remembered the way Mr. Perfect hurt her and planned her revenge (little did she know that the last 3 words she spoke to Mr. P. was the best revenge in the world). She quickly wrote something on a piece of paper and sprayed it with something. Mr. Perfect had made the mistake of telling her something long ago.
--------------------------------------
Notes:
1) I loved The Mountie. I think he might have been in a lost story somewhere, but I can’t remember. Personally, I’m glad I can’t remember … I’d rather not tarnish his character. Anyone remember when he sung his own theme song? “I’m the Mountie! I’m handsome, I’m brave, and I’m strong! I’m the Mountie! And I enforce the law! You can try to run, but you can never hide! The Mountieeeee always gets his man!” Good stuff!!
2) Aw, I miss Gorilla Monsoon. And Mr. Perfect. RIP, fellas.
COMING UP NEXT: Bitter Words, Part II, in which we see the devastating repercussions of crossing Nightshade. What’s that you say? You want more debilitating allergy stories? Coming right up!
----------------------------------------------
This is the first one to feature any actual in-ring action. Not very much in-ring action, but at least it doesn’t take place entirely within someone’s “dressing room.” Actually, this wasn’t that bad in terms of an actually plausible wrestling angle. In terms of a well-written piece of literature, of course, it fails miserably. Enjoy!
Chapter 14: Bitter Words [these chapter titles are seriously starting to sound like titles of Sweet Valley High books]
The phone rang in Anjel’s room.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Ms. Theodosia, this is President Jack Tunney.”
“Hello Mr. President. What can I do for you?”
“I need your OK on a match pitting Marty Jannetty against Ric Flair.”
“When is it to be held?”
“7:15 PM at the Chyenne Civic Center.”
“Yes sir. What date sir?” (what a ditz!) [actually, that was me covering for me there. I wrote this story in pen and decided it was easier to have him ask a follow-up question than self-edit. Sucks to be you, Tunney.]
“May 23”
“Yes sir. I believe we are free sir. Thank you, Mr. President.”
“Good, see you in Wisconsin. Goodbye”
CLICK!
What an idiot! Cheyanne is in Wyoming! Oh well [see above]
Anjel walked into the hall and was about to relay the news to Marty when a thought hit her. OH NO! Mr. Perfect manages Ric Flair! What am I going to do?
She went and told her protégé. [Marty is her protégé?] the info about the match. Marty noticed something odd about her – he could sense it but he didn’t bring it up [probably because that would require him to have lines]. She left his room and went into her own. She dialed Mr. P’s phone number. Busy. It must be Jack Tunney. 20 minutes later Mr. Perfect knocked on her door.
“Come in.” she said.
He entered, his face looking grim. He heard the news.
“Hi.” Anjel said.
“Funny Jack Tunney?”
“Yeah.”
“Anjel, I’m paid to be an aid for Ric Flair. I’m paid to win matches.”
“Me too.” she admitted.
“It means that I might have to resort to cheating, or hurting Marty. I’ve got to do anything to win.” he said.
“I understand.”
“But I promise you, I won’t do anything to hurt you.”
“Me neither.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Temporary enemies.” They shook hands, smiled, and Anjel left.
7:15, Cheyanne W.Y.
With Nightshade leading the way and Mr. Perfect and Ric Flair following behind.
Anjel gave Marty a last minute pep-talk and left the ring.
The match raged on using foreign objects often Ric Flair was eventually disqualified for being seen with a steel chair. Marty was nearly unconscious and Anjel was close to tears. She stepped into the ring and helped him onto a stretcher. She was about to go with him when a strong hand grasped her wrist. “Ow!” she whirled to see Ric Flair holding her.
“Whoo!” He screamed in her face. He slapped her. She slapped him back quickly. He raised his hand to punch her but Mr. P. held him back. He spoke softly to him. Mr. Perfect finally convinced his boss to stop.
Meanwhile Night shade had snuck up to Anjel and slipped on Brass knucks. She reared up behind her and WHAM! Right on the back of the head!
-ANJEL- [shifting perspectives again! Just like the pilot episode!]
He was going to hit me – but Mr. P. stopped him. How wonderful of him! I Want to … OW!”
-GORILLA- [as in Monsoon. One of the best commentators ever!]
I don’t believe it! This whole thing was set up by that rat Mr. Perfect. He distratcted Anjel by stopping Ric Flair so Nightshade could hit her. How Horrible.
----------------
Mr. Perfect didn’t notice what happened until he saw Anjel out cold on the mat. Then he saw N.S. blowing off her brass knuckled hand. Ric Flair left and N.S. followed. Mr. P knelt over her limp body.
-GORILLA-
Now what? He’s going to punch her with lead-filled gloves?
-------------------------------
Mr. Perfect touched the bump on the back of her head very lightly. She was bleeding. He removed his jacket and held it beneath her head. He lifted her up tenderly and placed her on the stretcher.
--------------------
-GORILLA-
… I don’t understand!
-------------------------------
Anjel was wheeled to Cheyanne Medical center – the hospital where Marty was being treated. Mr. Perfect walked back to Ric Flair’s room with a mixture of feelings. Concern for Anjel’s health, and anger because Nightshade would do something like that.
N.S. had watched the whole ordeal of Mr. Perfect -the man she loved- actually HELP that little blonde bimbo – what’s her name—Anjel! What the hell is he doing?
--10 min later—
Mr. Perfect enters room … N.S. flew into a rage “How could you! You little traitor!! You fink! What do you think you were doing out there?”
“Me! Me! You were the one who hit her on the back of the head with brass knucks!”
“So?”
“So? So?” he repeated.
“You’re upset.”
“How can you tell?” He asked sarcastically.
“You’re repeating yourself.”
“Repeating myself! Repeating myself! No way!” [rotflolllllll!1!1!!]
“What are you so mad about? That’s my job.” She told him.
“You’re not paid to Pearl Harbor people!”
“Well you do it sometimes.”
“That’s only when Ric Flair is in trouble. Anjel posed no threat to his career.”
“Oh, now I’m totally confused. Which side are you on? Why are you sticking up for that bimbo?” [Nightshade is totally my favorite character so far, btw]
“I am not sticking up for her, and don’t call her a bimbo!”
“Ha Ha Ha! Now I see it. You two timer! How could you! You’ve got a relationship with that dumb blonde!”
“Her name is Anjel, and she is one of the greatest friends I’ve ever had. Not that that would’ve made a difference.”
“Oh, and what does that mean?”
“It means that even if you knew we were friends you would’ve hit her anyway.”
“Maybe.” she said frostily “What’s so great about her, anyway. What’s she got that I don’t?” [dangerous question to ask about a Mary Sue, Shady.]
“She’s nice and kind and most of all she cares about my feelings. That’s more than I can ever say for you. The only person you can feel for is Night Shade. I don’t understand what I ever saw in you – Sunny Tyler.”
Noone spoke. They both looked at each other with anger in their eyes.
“I hate you, Curt Hennig.” she said and slammed the door behind her.
“Sheesh!” said The Mountie as N.S. flew by him, nearly ramming into him. He saw his friend on the bed. His face was in his hands.
“Hey, what’s the problem, buddy?”
“Long story.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Sorry, Jaques.” He shook his head.
“It’s ok I understand” he said and patting him on the back and closed the door behind him softly.
--------------------
Every day Mr. Perfect came in to visit Anjel in the hospital. She needed 29 stitches for her head. She had a concussions and some bruises, but she was recovering beautifully. [can Anjel do anything in any way besides beautifully?]
-----------
1 ½ weeks later
Anjel was finally able to get out of her hospital bed and walk around. She was moved into her dressing room. Her head still ached terribly, though. Mr. Perfect was still depressed, Nightshade’s words hurt him so deeply not even Anjel could help him. Anjel felt terrible about Mr. Perfect. His heart had been broken because he had helped her. She had spent so many hours trying to comfort him and make him feel better, but it just wasn’t helping.
Nightshade quit her job as the Executive Consultette to go back to being a sales representive. She remembered the way Mr. Perfect hurt her and planned her revenge (little did she know that the last 3 words she spoke to Mr. P. was the best revenge in the world). She quickly wrote something on a piece of paper and sprayed it with something. Mr. Perfect had made the mistake of telling her something long ago.
--------------------------------------
Notes:
1) I loved The Mountie. I think he might have been in a lost story somewhere, but I can’t remember. Personally, I’m glad I can’t remember … I’d rather not tarnish his character. Anyone remember when he sung his own theme song? “I’m the Mountie! I’m handsome, I’m brave, and I’m strong! I’m the Mountie! And I enforce the law! You can try to run, but you can never hide! The Mountieeeee always gets his man!” Good stuff!!
2) Aw, I miss Gorilla Monsoon. And Mr. Perfect. RIP, fellas.
COMING UP NEXT: Bitter Words, Part II, in which we see the devastating repercussions of crossing Nightshade. What’s that you say? You want more debilitating allergy stories? Coming right up!
----------------------------------------------
Monday, August 11, 2008
"A Perfect Part of View" Part III
(just tuning in? Hello! Please read the introduction first!)
And now, the exciting conclusion we have all been waiting for ...
“A Perfect Point of View” Part III
[Mr. Perfect has just telephoned Anjel, the font of all wisdom and miraculous advice]
2 rings
Marty: Hello [hooray! Marty has lines!]
Mr. P: Hello, this is Mr. Perfect I need to talk to Anjel.
Marty: Just a sec … [nice while it lasted. Seeya, MJ]
Anjel: Hello
Mr. P: Hi Anjel
Anjel: oh, its great ot hear your voice!
Mr. P: Yeah, you too.
Anjel: Hey, are you OK? You sound really sad. How’s Nightshade?
Mr. P. (voice cracking) She’s just fine.
Anjel: What’s wrong?
Mr. P: I told her, it just slipped out.
Anjel: Told her what?
Mr. P: (shouting) I LOVED HER
Anjel: Sorry.
Mr. P: No, I’m sorry, my short temper got the best of me again.
Anjel: What happened?
Mr. P: She laughed at me.
Anjel: (pause) I guess you’re a little shaken up.
Mr. P: Yeah, that’s an understatement.
Anjel: Take a deep breath (he does) let it out slowly (he does) Feel better?
Mr. P: Yeah, thanks.
Anjel: Ok. Do you know why she laughed?
Mr. P: no, I threw her out before I could explain.
Anjel: oh. Did she seem like she was trying to explain when she left?
Mr. P: I’m not sure (pause) yeah, I think so. I was too mad to let her.
Anjel: I think you should let her come to you.
Mr. P: What if she doesn’t?
Anjel: Give her 2 weeks, if she doesn’t by then, then you should forget about her.
Mr. P: Impossible.
Anjel: Think about it. Will you still loverher [?] in 2 weeks knowing that she could care less that she hurt you?
Mr. P: Probably not. You are always right, Anjel.
Anjel: Aw. Anytime to help a friend. You still sound sad.
Mr. P: (pause) I know.
Anjel: If it helps Mr. P., I love you. [hurl!]
Mr. P: Thanks, Anjel, it does help, and I love you too.
[ugg, this drags on and on .. in an effort to cheer him up, Anjel reminds Mr. P. of that hilarious perfume incident. They laugh like ninnies and he falls over himself to shower her with compliments and then they both hang up. And yes, I actually wrote “CLICK!”]
It turns out that I didn’t have to wait 2 weeks for an apology.
Getting through the Quadfecta meeting was hard. Since my seat was next to N.S.’s. [you have assigned seats?]
“Now Mr. Perfect if anything goes wrong, you have your brass knuckles, right?” asked Slick Ric
“Right, Champ.” I said my voice must have sounded a little miserable because Bobby elbowed me.
“You O.K.?” he whispered
“Female Trouble, I’ll get over it” I whispered back
“And Nightshade, you have your perfume?” asked Ric
“Yes, sir.” she answered
“What scent?” I had to ask
“Palm Springs” she replied, quite surprised I had spoken to her.
“Why” she asked
“I’m allergic to 1 – Tropical Mist” I said with no emotion [ooh, you’ll regret telling her that, Mr. P. Something tells me she comes from the Shawn Michaels school of nefaroiusness]
“Okay, Everybody ready? Let’s go” said Ric Everyone filed out.
NEXT DAY
I was sitting in my room when a knock came on my door. “Who is it?” I asked
“Nightshade.”
“Go away. I don’t want to talk to you.” I told her.
“Please let me in, I … I want to apologize.” she said.
“Allright, come in.”
She walked in wearing a beautiful smile which I did not return.
“Come on now, cheer up!” she said brightly.
“If you came here to do that you can leave.” I told her coldly. Her face became very serious. “Mr. Perfect, I care for you deeply, I don’t’ like to see you this way.” she said.
“You made me this way” I said.
“Oh, I’m so, so sorry. I never meant to make you so sad. It was a mistake, I don’t know why I laughed at you … I’m sorry, not only for that, bur for not loving you. I wish I could, but I can’t, I care about you, and you are a wonderful person, but I’m a jezebel, and I can’t devote myself to you. God, I wish I could.” She said and a tear spilled down her cheek [actually, that sounds a lot like the way I broke up with several boyfriends. Also, I can’t believe I knew the word “jezebel” in 6th grade]
“Aw, come on now, don’t cry. I forgive you.” I told her and gave her my handkerchief [who uses handkerchiefs?]
“Thank you.” She said. She kissed me on my cheek. “I wish I could.” She said before she left.”
[then Mr. P. writes another blasted letter to Anjel. This one is GOLD]
Dear Anjel,
You were right! (as usual) Nightshade apologized to me, although she still doesn’t love me. She said that she was a jezebbel and could never limit herself to 1 man. I just want to thank you again for the phone conversation we had, I think that I would probably would still be depressed 1 year from now if it weren’t for you. And I meant it when I said I love you. I really did. Love means Hates nothing about. And I could never hate anything about you, Anjel. Thank you. [here I wrote and later crossed out “How is Marty?” … poor Marty … ] I miss you. Love, Mr. Perfect.
-------
NEXT DAY
I decided to swing by Nightshade’s to make sure everything was O.K. between us. I knocked on her door but there was no answer.
“Nightshade!” I called, no answer.
I used my spare set of keys to open her door. I saw her lying down, head on the pillow, at first I thought she was unconcious or worse, but then I heard sobbing so I knew she was O.K. – physically that is. [about time we had some egregious crying]
“Nightshade, what’s wrong? Please look at me.” She kept crying. She was getting me worried. “Please I care about you.”
This made her cry harder.
“Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong? Just look at me!” I was getting nowhere.
“Wait.”
“At least now you’re speaking to me.”
“Let’s try again.” I said and sat on her bed.
She lifted her head from the soggy pillow and dabbed her eyes with my handkerchief. Even with her red and puffy eyes and tear-streaked face she was beautiful. I pushed away the black hair sticking to her face. Her lower lip quivered.
“Take a deep breath.” She did. “Let it out slowly.” She did. “Feel Better?” she nodded. (ah, the magic of Anjel!) [HURL!]
“I’ve never loved anybody before. My reputation has seen to that. Date ‘em and forget about them. So when you said that you loved me, well, I thought that you were joking. And It wasn’t until this morning that I realized I loved you too. And now, the only man I’ve ever loved, doesn’t love me any more” she began to cry again.
“Hey, hey, hey. Who said I don’t love you anymore?” I asked her. She looked at me.
“After the way I hurt you?” she asked.
“I forgave you.” I pointed out.
“I know, but …… I couldn’t forgive myself.”
“Please forgive yourself. I love you, Nightshade.”
“I love you, too Mr. P.”
I kissed her – on the lips, mind you.
Notes:
1) Shout out to Marty! Welcome back, man!
2) With all this communication going on, I can’t believe no one sent a telegram in this story.
3) Hey, y’all: Love means Hates nothing about. I actually told my fiancé that last night. Then I kissed him on the lips. He’s a lucky guy.
COMING UP NEXT: “Bitter Words” – in which Ric Flair has a match against Marty Jannetty. Uh Oh! Mr. Perfect manages Ric Flair! Anjel manages Marty! What will happen???
And now, the exciting conclusion we have all been waiting for ...
“A Perfect Point of View” Part III
[Mr. Perfect has just telephoned Anjel, the font of all wisdom and miraculous advice]
2 rings
Marty: Hello [hooray! Marty has lines!]
Mr. P: Hello, this is Mr. Perfect I need to talk to Anjel.
Marty: Just a sec … [nice while it lasted. Seeya, MJ]
Anjel: Hello
Mr. P: Hi Anjel
Anjel: oh, its great ot hear your voice!
Mr. P: Yeah, you too.
Anjel: Hey, are you OK? You sound really sad. How’s Nightshade?
Mr. P. (voice cracking) She’s just fine.
Anjel: What’s wrong?
Mr. P: I told her, it just slipped out.
Anjel: Told her what?
Mr. P: (shouting) I LOVED HER
Anjel: Sorry.
Mr. P: No, I’m sorry, my short temper got the best of me again.
Anjel: What happened?
Mr. P: She laughed at me.
Anjel: (pause) I guess you’re a little shaken up.
Mr. P: Yeah, that’s an understatement.
Anjel: Take a deep breath (he does) let it out slowly (he does) Feel better?
Mr. P: Yeah, thanks.
Anjel: Ok. Do you know why she laughed?
Mr. P: no, I threw her out before I could explain.
Anjel: oh. Did she seem like she was trying to explain when she left?
Mr. P: I’m not sure (pause) yeah, I think so. I was too mad to let her.
Anjel: I think you should let her come to you.
Mr. P: What if she doesn’t?
Anjel: Give her 2 weeks, if she doesn’t by then, then you should forget about her.
Mr. P: Impossible.
Anjel: Think about it. Will you still loverher [?] in 2 weeks knowing that she could care less that she hurt you?
Mr. P: Probably not. You are always right, Anjel.
Anjel: Aw. Anytime to help a friend. You still sound sad.
Mr. P: (pause) I know.
Anjel: If it helps Mr. P., I love you. [hurl!]
Mr. P: Thanks, Anjel, it does help, and I love you too.
[ugg, this drags on and on .. in an effort to cheer him up, Anjel reminds Mr. P. of that hilarious perfume incident. They laugh like ninnies and he falls over himself to shower her with compliments and then they both hang up. And yes, I actually wrote “CLICK!”]
It turns out that I didn’t have to wait 2 weeks for an apology.
Getting through the Quadfecta meeting was hard. Since my seat was next to N.S.’s. [you have assigned seats?]
“Now Mr. Perfect if anything goes wrong, you have your brass knuckles, right?” asked Slick Ric
“Right, Champ.” I said my voice must have sounded a little miserable because Bobby elbowed me.
“You O.K.?” he whispered
“Female Trouble, I’ll get over it” I whispered back
“And Nightshade, you have your perfume?” asked Ric
“Yes, sir.” she answered
“What scent?” I had to ask
“Palm Springs” she replied, quite surprised I had spoken to her.
“Why” she asked
“I’m allergic to 1 – Tropical Mist” I said with no emotion [ooh, you’ll regret telling her that, Mr. P. Something tells me she comes from the Shawn Michaels school of nefaroiusness]
“Okay, Everybody ready? Let’s go” said Ric Everyone filed out.
NEXT DAY
I was sitting in my room when a knock came on my door. “Who is it?” I asked
“Nightshade.”
“Go away. I don’t want to talk to you.” I told her.
“Please let me in, I … I want to apologize.” she said.
“Allright, come in.”
She walked in wearing a beautiful smile which I did not return.
“Come on now, cheer up!” she said brightly.
“If you came here to do that you can leave.” I told her coldly. Her face became very serious. “Mr. Perfect, I care for you deeply, I don’t’ like to see you this way.” she said.
“You made me this way” I said.
“Oh, I’m so, so sorry. I never meant to make you so sad. It was a mistake, I don’t know why I laughed at you … I’m sorry, not only for that, bur for not loving you. I wish I could, but I can’t, I care about you, and you are a wonderful person, but I’m a jezebel, and I can’t devote myself to you. God, I wish I could.” She said and a tear spilled down her cheek [actually, that sounds a lot like the way I broke up with several boyfriends. Also, I can’t believe I knew the word “jezebel” in 6th grade]
“Aw, come on now, don’t cry. I forgive you.” I told her and gave her my handkerchief [who uses handkerchiefs?]
“Thank you.” She said. She kissed me on my cheek. “I wish I could.” She said before she left.”
[then Mr. P. writes another blasted letter to Anjel. This one is GOLD]
Dear Anjel,
You were right! (as usual) Nightshade apologized to me, although she still doesn’t love me. She said that she was a jezebbel and could never limit herself to 1 man. I just want to thank you again for the phone conversation we had, I think that I would probably would still be depressed 1 year from now if it weren’t for you. And I meant it when I said I love you. I really did. Love means Hates nothing about. And I could never hate anything about you, Anjel. Thank you. [here I wrote and later crossed out “How is Marty?” … poor Marty … ] I miss you. Love, Mr. Perfect.
-------
NEXT DAY
I decided to swing by Nightshade’s to make sure everything was O.K. between us. I knocked on her door but there was no answer.
“Nightshade!” I called, no answer.
I used my spare set of keys to open her door. I saw her lying down, head on the pillow, at first I thought she was unconcious or worse, but then I heard sobbing so I knew she was O.K. – physically that is. [about time we had some egregious crying]
“Nightshade, what’s wrong? Please look at me.” She kept crying. She was getting me worried. “Please I care about you.”
This made her cry harder.
“Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong? Just look at me!” I was getting nowhere.
“Wait.”
“At least now you’re speaking to me.”
“Let’s try again.” I said and sat on her bed.
She lifted her head from the soggy pillow and dabbed her eyes with my handkerchief. Even with her red and puffy eyes and tear-streaked face she was beautiful. I pushed away the black hair sticking to her face. Her lower lip quivered.
“Take a deep breath.” She did. “Let it out slowly.” She did. “Feel Better?” she nodded. (ah, the magic of Anjel!) [HURL!]
“I’ve never loved anybody before. My reputation has seen to that. Date ‘em and forget about them. So when you said that you loved me, well, I thought that you were joking. And It wasn’t until this morning that I realized I loved you too. And now, the only man I’ve ever loved, doesn’t love me any more” she began to cry again.
“Hey, hey, hey. Who said I don’t love you anymore?” I asked her. She looked at me.
“After the way I hurt you?” she asked.
“I forgave you.” I pointed out.
“I know, but …… I couldn’t forgive myself.”
“Please forgive yourself. I love you, Nightshade.”
“I love you, too Mr. P.”
I kissed her – on the lips, mind you.
Notes:
1) Shout out to Marty! Welcome back, man!
2) With all this communication going on, I can’t believe no one sent a telegram in this story.
3) Hey, y’all: Love means Hates nothing about. I actually told my fiancé that last night. Then I kissed him on the lips. He’s a lucky guy.
COMING UP NEXT: “Bitter Words” – in which Ric Flair has a match against Marty Jannetty. Uh Oh! Mr. Perfect manages Ric Flair! Anjel manages Marty! What will happen???
Friday, August 8, 2008
A Perfect Point of View: Part II
(just tuning in? Hello! Please read the introduction first!)
I'm sure y'all are just on the edge of your seats wondering what's going to happen next. Never fear ... for now I bring to you: “A Perfect Point of View” part II ... and yes, Anjel finds her little blonde way into this .... good golly.
“A Perfect Point of View” part II:
**~~The Next Day~~**
The Flair Trifecta—I mean Quadfecta meeting was called early because Slick Ric was taping an interview for Superstars which I was not invited to. We had the afternoon off.
“Oh, Damn!” [gasp! A swear word! Look out, Mr. P!] said N.S.
“What?” I asked
“My old boss, Riely is supposed to call soon to discuss the finality of my resignation.”
“What were you?”
“Sales Rep. I’ve got 15 minutes.” she replied.
I walked her to her door when we got there she invited me in. There were 5 minutes to spare.
“Nice place” I said
“Thanks.”
The way she said that was amazing. It wasn’t like she was just saying it to be polite. She said it like—well, I can’t describe it. Oh great, now she’s got me analyzing thank yous. Am I in love or what? It wasn’t until I actually thought it that I realized it. I was I love with this woman. But did she fell even a little like himself about him? She did kiss me but I’ll bet she does that to hundreds of men. That’s part of her charm, she’s so ….. mysterious.
While I was in deep thought, she kissed me again. Even better than the last time because 1. it lasted longer 2. she had her arms around my neck and 3. this time we were kissing each other instead of just her kissing me. Man oh man do I love her.
<><><>
Oh god! He is an incredible kisser. The best I’ve ever had … no … the best was Tommy … no I mean George … or Roger. Well he’s one of the best. And he’s nice, and funny, and he seems to like me, plus he is good looking. All this and a terrific kisser. Wow! He’s perfect he even wears black. But do I need him. I’m not sure. You can’t tell much person in 2 days. Can you?
<><><>
The telephone rang.
“Oh Damn. It’s Riely!” she said.
I kissed her on the cheek and said good bye while she picked up the phone. I started to wash off the purple lipstick [classy!] smeared on my face. When I had finsied, I wrote a letter to Anjel.
Dear Anjel,
Hello! How is Marty? You know the WWF’s policy of if a wrestler leaves, a replacement must be found, well … you should see the new replacement! Her name is Nightshade, and, well I think I’m in love with her. Let me tell you about her. She’s got long black hair, green eyes and wears purple lipstick. She is very mysterious I don’t know much about her except that she’s from New York City and likes Bobby Darin. She’s impulsive and we’ve kissed each other 2 times* so far. She has to date at least 20 times a week. She’s nice when she wants to be, she kinds of reminds me of the way I’m supposed to be, only a little nicer. Anyway, even though we’ve kissed, I’m not sure of how she feels about me. Should I tell her I love her? I miss you very much. Things just aren’t the same without you.
* actually she kissed me first, then we both kissed.
Love, Mr. P
PS – have the peach trees blossomed yet?
PPS – Bobby says Hello! And the Mountie wants me to tell you that he misses you <3
Here’s the letter I got back
Dear Mr. P,
Hi! Boy it’s good to hear from you! I miss you so much! Marty is fine [what? No flu?] and yes! The Peach Trees have bloomed! Well the woman you love sounds very intriging! By what you tell me I would thing that she is not the kind of person who would want to make a commitment just yet [but … they’ve kissed]. Since she kissed you first, I think that she will tell you how she feels when she’s ready, But if you believe—truly believe—that she loves you back, go ahead and tell her! Let me know how things go! I’m only a letter or a phone call away! All the best. Love, Anjel
PS – say hi! To Bobby and tell the mountie I miss him too!
--
I can always get good advice from Anjel. I really do love her, not like I love Nightshade, I mean she’s absolutely beautiful, but still, I love her like a sister. She’s my best friend. I’m not absolutely sure N.S. loves me, in fact, I doubt it, so I’ll have to wait until she tells me.
Someone knocked on my door.
“Come in!” I said
It was Nightshade she stepped into my room.
“Oh, air conditioning!” said N.S. as she sampled the temperature in my room.
“Do you want me to turn it off or something? This heat in Florida can make me pass out.” I asked.
“No, leave it on, I like it.” she continued “I was wondering, what does Ric Flair want us to do?”
“Nothing until 6:00 tonight, he’s got a match and we need to plan it.” I informed her.
“Oh. 4 whole hours to kill.” she said and I swear I saw a twinkle in her beautiful green eyes. I don’t know why I said it, but right then and there I told her
“N.S., I love you”
And she laughed! That sound I thought was beautiful was now a creul sound. She laughed! How could she? [uhm, maybe because you just met her yesterday?]
<><><>
Ow! Why did I do that? The poor guy! He loved me and I laughed.
<><><>
“Get out now or I’ll pick you up and put you out and I mean it!” I said.
She left looking down. I sat and thought about it. I need to talk to Anjel [of course]. Since Florida and Georgia were close I called her. (don't want to spring for long distance???)
Notes
1) My sixth-grade math teacher was named Mr. Reilly. I apologize for involving him in this story and misspelling his name. Also, I still don’t know what a sales rep does.
2) I think one of my lost stories involves Mr. P. almost passing out in Anjel’s dressing room because she doesn’t have the air conditioning turned on. I’m sure it was exciting; too bad y’all are missing out.
COMING UP NEXT: “A Perfect Point of View”: part III, in which Nightshade apologizes to Mr. P. I smell egregious crying! It also contains one of the best lines I've ever written.
I'm sure y'all are just on the edge of your seats wondering what's going to happen next. Never fear ... for now I bring to you: “A Perfect Point of View” part II ... and yes, Anjel finds her little blonde way into this .... good golly.
“A Perfect Point of View” part II:
**~~The Next Day~~**
The Flair Trifecta—I mean Quadfecta meeting was called early because Slick Ric was taping an interview for Superstars which I was not invited to. We had the afternoon off.
“Oh, Damn!” [gasp! A swear word! Look out, Mr. P!] said N.S.
“What?” I asked
“My old boss, Riely is supposed to call soon to discuss the finality of my resignation.”
“What were you?”
“Sales Rep. I’ve got 15 minutes.” she replied.
I walked her to her door when we got there she invited me in. There were 5 minutes to spare.
“Nice place” I said
“Thanks.”
The way she said that was amazing. It wasn’t like she was just saying it to be polite. She said it like—well, I can’t describe it. Oh great, now she’s got me analyzing thank yous. Am I in love or what? It wasn’t until I actually thought it that I realized it. I was I love with this woman. But did she fell even a little like himself about him? She did kiss me but I’ll bet she does that to hundreds of men. That’s part of her charm, she’s so ….. mysterious.
While I was in deep thought, she kissed me again. Even better than the last time because 1. it lasted longer 2. she had her arms around my neck and 3. this time we were kissing each other instead of just her kissing me. Man oh man do I love her.
<><><>
Oh god! He is an incredible kisser. The best I’ve ever had … no … the best was Tommy … no I mean George … or Roger. Well he’s one of the best. And he’s nice, and funny, and he seems to like me, plus he is good looking. All this and a terrific kisser. Wow! He’s perfect he even wears black. But do I need him. I’m not sure. You can’t tell much person in 2 days. Can you?
<><><>
The telephone rang.
“Oh Damn. It’s Riely!” she said.
I kissed her on the cheek and said good bye while she picked up the phone. I started to wash off the purple lipstick [classy!] smeared on my face. When I had finsied, I wrote a letter to Anjel.
Dear Anjel,
Hello! How is Marty? You know the WWF’s policy of if a wrestler leaves, a replacement must be found, well … you should see the new replacement! Her name is Nightshade, and, well I think I’m in love with her. Let me tell you about her. She’s got long black hair, green eyes and wears purple lipstick. She is very mysterious I don’t know much about her except that she’s from New York City and likes Bobby Darin. She’s impulsive and we’ve kissed each other 2 times* so far. She has to date at least 20 times a week. She’s nice when she wants to be, she kinds of reminds me of the way I’m supposed to be, only a little nicer. Anyway, even though we’ve kissed, I’m not sure of how she feels about me. Should I tell her I love her? I miss you very much. Things just aren’t the same without you.
* actually she kissed me first, then we both kissed.
Love, Mr. P
PS – have the peach trees blossomed yet?
PPS – Bobby says Hello! And the Mountie wants me to tell you that he misses you <3
Here’s the letter I got back
Dear Mr. P,
Hi! Boy it’s good to hear from you! I miss you so much! Marty is fine [what? No flu?] and yes! The Peach Trees have bloomed! Well the woman you love sounds very intriging! By what you tell me I would thing that she is not the kind of person who would want to make a commitment just yet [but … they’ve kissed]. Since she kissed you first, I think that she will tell you how she feels when she’s ready, But if you believe—truly believe—that she loves you back, go ahead and tell her! Let me know how things go! I’m only a letter or a phone call away! All the best. Love, Anjel
PS – say hi! To Bobby and tell the mountie I miss him too!
--
I can always get good advice from Anjel. I really do love her, not like I love Nightshade, I mean she’s absolutely beautiful, but still, I love her like a sister. She’s my best friend. I’m not absolutely sure N.S. loves me, in fact, I doubt it, so I’ll have to wait until she tells me.
Someone knocked on my door.
“Come in!” I said
It was Nightshade she stepped into my room.
“Oh, air conditioning!” said N.S. as she sampled the temperature in my room.
“Do you want me to turn it off or something? This heat in Florida can make me pass out.” I asked.
“No, leave it on, I like it.” she continued “I was wondering, what does Ric Flair want us to do?”
“Nothing until 6:00 tonight, he’s got a match and we need to plan it.” I informed her.
“Oh. 4 whole hours to kill.” she said and I swear I saw a twinkle in her beautiful green eyes. I don’t know why I said it, but right then and there I told her
“N.S., I love you”
And she laughed! That sound I thought was beautiful was now a creul sound. She laughed! How could she? [uhm, maybe because you just met her yesterday?]
<><><>
Ow! Why did I do that? The poor guy! He loved me and I laughed.
<><><>
“Get out now or I’ll pick you up and put you out and I mean it!” I said.
She left looking down. I sat and thought about it. I need to talk to Anjel [of course]. Since Florida and Georgia were close I called her. (don't want to spring for long distance???)
Notes
1) My sixth-grade math teacher was named Mr. Reilly. I apologize for involving him in this story and misspelling his name. Also, I still don’t know what a sales rep does.
2) I think one of my lost stories involves Mr. P. almost passing out in Anjel’s dressing room because she doesn’t have the air conditioning turned on. I’m sure it was exciting; too bad y’all are missing out.
COMING UP NEXT: “A Perfect Point of View”: part III, in which Nightshade apologizes to Mr. P. I smell egregious crying! It also contains one of the best lines I've ever written.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Chapter 13: A Perfect Point of View
(just tuning in? Hello! Please read the introduction first!)
This story marked my first foray into first-person narrative. It also marked my last.
Times I cringed retyping this: 6. Enjoy!
Chapter 13: A Perfect Point of View
“Mr. Perfect, I would like you to meet our lovely new executive consultette, Nightshade.” said Ric Flair to me, Mr. Perfect. In stepped a woman with black, shiny hair that hung down a little above her waist. She had deep, intriging green eyes that caut your attention immediatly. Nightshade … isn’t that a poisonous fungus. If this woman is a poisonous fungus I’ll quit my job and become a monk.
Sunny Marie Tyler meet Curt Hennig.” said Ric
The beautiful stranger cringed at her name.
“Please don’t call me that. Look at me. Do I look Sunny?”
She was wearing a slightly off the shoulder dress with a long skirt. [a dress and a skirt?] it was black and did not fit her first name at all.
“Can’t say that you do, dear Can’t say that you do, look, why don’t you two kids get to know each other I am going to find Bobby.” halfway out the door Ric Flair stopped. “Almost forgot, Nightshade—gimmie a ‘Whoooo!” he said
“Whooo!” replied the consultette in her sultry, silky voice.
Ric Flair praised her “Whoo” and left us alone I smiled at her and she smiled back. Her smile melted my entire inside.
<><><> [I drew weird shapes to signify a perspective shift]
Oh god, he’s smiling at me. I think he likes me – Smile back-good-hey, what’s wrong with him liking me? He’s nice looking. Not as gorgeous as that guy I had last week …. but not bad [look out, Mr. P. she’s no good!]
<><><>
“You can call me N.S. if you’d like.” she told me [yes, that flows off the tongue much nicer]
“Okay.” I said “You can call me Mr. P. If you want.”
“So, Mr. P. where are you from?”
“Minneapolis, Minnesota. And you?”
“New York, New York.”
“Ah, the big apple.” I said searching for something good to say.
“Yeah, I grew up on the sounds of gunshots in the night.”
“Wasn’t that a Frank Sinatra song?”
She laughed. Her laugh was just about the sweetest thing in the world
<><><>
Hey, he’s pretty funny. I could get along with this guy O.K.
<><><>
“Oh, Do you like the Big Band era, I love Bobby Darin!” she told/asked me. “I’m an oldies fan” [what a coincidence, so was I. I obsessively collected Frankie Valli songs. But that’s a whole ‘nother blog]
“Um, not really, I’m an Elton John man myself.” [how is that not oldies?] Why didn’t I lie?
“So, why don’t you show me around?” she asked me
I gave her the grand tour. Passing by Anjel’s old room kind of made a lump in my throat but I pushed it down and moved on [ooh, so close to more egregious crying!]
“And we complete the tour at your room.” which was across the hall from mine –yes!
I handed her the keys and her extra set, which she gave to ME!!!
“Hey, who else do I know?” she explained
<><><>
Oh, what the heck, if you want to know what kind of a guy he was I should go ahead and do it. – Shoop Shoop!
<><><>
Right then she kissed me. WOW! Not just a little baby kiss either, right on the lips. WOW! I hope I returned it effectively.
<><><>
Ooh! Hose me down! Not bad at all! Pretty good actually. OK, OK, Fantastic.
<><><>
She is hot stuff!
Later in the evening, while I was in the dressing room I share with Bobby, I thought about what happened today, and realized that I could not wait for tomorrow.
TO BE CONTINUED …
Notes:
1) Again with the misconception of dressing rooms. It’s like I thought they all lived and worked in one big building instead of traveling around the country and staying in hotel rooms.
2) I wasn’t sure of Mr. Perfect’s exact age, but I do remember thinking that he was about 30. So … I wasn’t trying to pretend he was 14 or anything; I just assumed that this was the way 30-year old men thought. That being said, being close to 30 myself, I wouldn’t mind if I kissed a guy and had him react by thinking “WOW!” in all caps. I would, however, be alarmed if he was amazed that it was on the lips.
3) Re: the oldies. I think I’ve described my obsession with wrestling effectively. I was obsessed to a similar degree with Frankie Valli and the 4 Seasons. I had a ridiculously large collection of their albums. I think I had songs they didn’t even remember recording. Not only did I collect them, I made alphabetical, color-coded lists of their songs. And this was before I had a computer, so any time I got a new song, I would have to redo the list. I then made alphabetic mix tapes and listened to them over and over. But I digress. So because I only listened to oldies, I had no clue what was happening in the world of modern music. Thus, all of my characters only listen to oldies. The “Shoop Shoop” line is a reference to “It’s in His Kiss (The Shoop Shoop Song)” by Betty Everett (later recorded by Cher), to which the lyrics are: “If you wanna know if he loves you so, it’s in his kiss.” Good golly. Just … good golly.
Coming up next: The continuation of “A Perfect Point of View,” in which Nightshade begins to show her true colors. That hussy.
This story marked my first foray into first-person narrative. It also marked my last.
Times I cringed retyping this: 6. Enjoy!
Chapter 13: A Perfect Point of View
“Mr. Perfect, I would like you to meet our lovely new executive consultette, Nightshade.” said Ric Flair to me, Mr. Perfect. In stepped a woman with black, shiny hair that hung down a little above her waist. She had deep, intriging green eyes that caut your attention immediatly. Nightshade … isn’t that a poisonous fungus. If this woman is a poisonous fungus I’ll quit my job and become a monk.
Sunny Marie Tyler meet Curt Hennig.” said Ric
The beautiful stranger cringed at her name.
“Please don’t call me that. Look at me. Do I look Sunny?”
She was wearing a slightly off the shoulder dress with a long skirt. [a dress and a skirt?] it was black and did not fit her first name at all.
“Can’t say that you do, dear Can’t say that you do, look, why don’t you two kids get to know each other I am going to find Bobby.” halfway out the door Ric Flair stopped. “Almost forgot, Nightshade—gimmie a ‘Whoooo!” he said
“Whooo!” replied the consultette in her sultry, silky voice.
Ric Flair praised her “Whoo” and left us alone I smiled at her and she smiled back. Her smile melted my entire inside.
<><><> [I drew weird shapes to signify a perspective shift]
Oh god, he’s smiling at me. I think he likes me – Smile back-good-hey, what’s wrong with him liking me? He’s nice looking. Not as gorgeous as that guy I had last week …. but not bad [look out, Mr. P. she’s no good!]
<><><>
“You can call me N.S. if you’d like.” she told me [yes, that flows off the tongue much nicer]
“Okay.” I said “You can call me Mr. P. If you want.”
“So, Mr. P. where are you from?”
“Minneapolis, Minnesota. And you?”
“New York, New York.”
“Ah, the big apple.” I said searching for something good to say.
“Yeah, I grew up on the sounds of gunshots in the night.”
“Wasn’t that a Frank Sinatra song?”
She laughed. Her laugh was just about the sweetest thing in the world
<><><>
Hey, he’s pretty funny. I could get along with this guy O.K.
<><><>
“Oh, Do you like the Big Band era, I love Bobby Darin!” she told/asked me. “I’m an oldies fan” [what a coincidence, so was I. I obsessively collected Frankie Valli songs. But that’s a whole ‘nother blog]
“Um, not really, I’m an Elton John man myself.” [how is that not oldies?] Why didn’t I lie?
“So, why don’t you show me around?” she asked me
I gave her the grand tour. Passing by Anjel’s old room kind of made a lump in my throat but I pushed it down and moved on [ooh, so close to more egregious crying!]
“And we complete the tour at your room.” which was across the hall from mine –yes!
I handed her the keys and her extra set, which she gave to ME!!!
“Hey, who else do I know?” she explained
<><><>
Oh, what the heck, if you want to know what kind of a guy he was I should go ahead and do it. – Shoop Shoop!
<><><>
Right then she kissed me. WOW! Not just a little baby kiss either, right on the lips. WOW! I hope I returned it effectively.
<><><>
Ooh! Hose me down! Not bad at all! Pretty good actually. OK, OK, Fantastic.
<><><>
She is hot stuff!
Later in the evening, while I was in the dressing room I share with Bobby, I thought about what happened today, and realized that I could not wait for tomorrow.
TO BE CONTINUED …
Notes:
1) Again with the misconception of dressing rooms. It’s like I thought they all lived and worked in one big building instead of traveling around the country and staying in hotel rooms.
2) I wasn’t sure of Mr. Perfect’s exact age, but I do remember thinking that he was about 30. So … I wasn’t trying to pretend he was 14 or anything; I just assumed that this was the way 30-year old men thought. That being said, being close to 30 myself, I wouldn’t mind if I kissed a guy and had him react by thinking “WOW!” in all caps. I would, however, be alarmed if he was amazed that it was on the lips.
3) Re: the oldies. I think I’ve described my obsession with wrestling effectively. I was obsessed to a similar degree with Frankie Valli and the 4 Seasons. I had a ridiculously large collection of their albums. I think I had songs they didn’t even remember recording. Not only did I collect them, I made alphabetical, color-coded lists of their songs. And this was before I had a computer, so any time I got a new song, I would have to redo the list. I then made alphabetic mix tapes and listened to them over and over. But I digress. So because I only listened to oldies, I had no clue what was happening in the world of modern music. Thus, all of my characters only listen to oldies. The “Shoop Shoop” line is a reference to “It’s in His Kiss (The Shoop Shoop Song)” by Betty Everett (later recorded by Cher), to which the lyrics are: “If you wanna know if he loves you so, it’s in his kiss.” Good golly. Just … good golly.
Coming up next: The continuation of “A Perfect Point of View,” in which Nightshade begins to show her true colors. That hussy.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Goodbye - Middle Names, Continued
(just joining us? hello! please check out the introduction)
Well, that was quite a cliffhanger yesterday, wasn't it? I mean, Brutus hadn't seen Marty in at least 5 hours. Where could he have gone? And what will Anjel do without his compelling presence? All your questions will be answered today in ...
GOODBYE - MIDDLE NAMES, CONTINUED
It has been 2 weeks since Anjel has read that note. In a split second decision she knew what she had to do. She couldn’t live without Marty. So she is trekking the universe, searching for him. The friends of the now seperated inseperable duo are greatly saddened by this development. Anjel sends regular post cards. So far she has covered ½ of Georgia without any luck. But then one day, -- 2 months later
Anjel stopped into a café for some coffee. As she found a seat, she saw a familiar back of a head [surely he didn’t have the only mullet in Georgia.]
“It can’t be!” she said to herself
But it was. Marty was sitting in a booth.
2 seats away from Anjel.
“Marty!” she screamed across the café [I thought he was only 2 seats away?]
Marty looked up and saw Anjel! They ran to each other. Anjel began to cry
“I thought I’d never see you again” said Anjel through her tears.
“Hey don’t cry Dr. Theodosia?”
Anjel looked up.
“Doctor?”
And with that they knew something was screwy.
It took them 2 hours, but they finally figured it out. They walked out beneath the peach trees and dendrohn bushes, hand in hand.
“My gosh it’s beautiful in Georgia.”
“Yeah, I love it here.”
“I know why.”
“Know what else I love?”
“What” asked Angel.
“I love you”
“I love you, too.”
They kissed each other. [I had the word “deeply” crossed out here. Too risqué.]
“Anjel, will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
[And here’s the telegram I had Anjel send home. Yes, a telegram.]
Dear Brutus + Mr. P + Sherry
I found him! STOP
GETTING MARRIED STOP
LOVE ANJEL
[then I wrote a guest list for the wedding. I’ll spare you, because it’s basically just a list of my favorite wrestlers, although I did color code them to indicate whether they were friends of the bride or friends of the groom]
[here’s the invitation. It is remarkably devoid of swirlies]
A WEDDING
Time – 12:00 PM
Day – May 1st, 92
AT – St. John’s Cathedral
For Marty Jannetty + Charlotte (Anjel) Theodosia
Note: this wedding is a goodbye to the couple, they are moving to Georgia
~~~After the wedding~~~
Brutus came up to Anjel – Mrs. Charlotte Theodosia Jannetty.
“Congrats Anjel” he said and hugged her. Anjel noticed some moisture in Brutuses’ eyes. [FOR THE LOVE OF PETE, DO YOU EVER STOP CRYING?]
“Do you always cry at weddings?” she asked with a few tears of her own forming.
“Naw, it’s just … Aw to heck with it I don’t want to see you two go!” the tears spilled over his cheeks. Anjel hugged him warmly.
“I don’t want to see you go either, Brutus, but we’ll write letters, O.K.?” [yes, but how can you be sure they won’t be forged??]
“Yeah, O.K.” Brutus sniffled and smiled he went over to Marty.
“You’re beautiful.” said Mr. Perfect smiling at Anjel. “Marty is very lucky.” [what, no tears?]
“Thank you, Mr. Perfect.”
“I … I … I’m really going to miss you.” said Mr. P. fighting the tears back and trying to force the lump in his throat down. He didn’t succeed, they streamed down his face. [about time. sheesh] She hugged him.
“Hey, don’t cry over me,” she said.
“Too late” he managed to smile
“Oops, looks like I’m crying over you, I am going to miss you too.” said a teary-eyed Anjel.
-------------------
There were more tear filled goodbyes until, it was time to go
-------------------
“Goodbye everyone, we’ll write! We’ll miss you all!” said Mr. + Mrs. Jannetty
-------------------
They both moved to Georgia and had a wonderful life together. They always wrote to Mr. P, Brutus, and Sherri and visited and called often.
So, you ask is this the end? There are so many unanswered questions.
THE END
Notes
1) I know I expressed disbelief about this when I typed it, but it’s worth mentioning again. A telegram? Seriously? Why does no one use a phone?
2) Anjel treks across Georgia in search of Marty? WTF is she doing, knocking on random folks’ doors? I assume Marty went to stay with his family … why didn’t she check there first?
3) So after I finished this story, I realized that I had written myself into a hole. They got married, they’re happy … uhh … now what? I thought that tag about unanswered questions would help, but then I realized that there really weren’t any. I tried continuing by just writing about Mr. Perfect (that story is coming up next), but that just didn’t cut it for me. I missed my Mary Sue.
After trying out a couple of different things (a few more torn-out pages are evidence of this), I had a brilliant idea. All I had to do was add these words to the end of the story: “This is the WWF’s explanation of why Marty and Anjel left the federation. But wouldn’t you love to hear THE REAL STORY?”
Ta-da! See … wrestling is fake. I knew that. I wrote like it wasn’t, but I exploited the fact that it was when I needed to.
Coming up next: “A Perfect Point of View” – I wrote this before I came up with the aforementioned brilliant way to rewrite history. I tried writing a story without Anjel in it. I failed. Mr. Perfect can’t help but contact her. Oh well. At least we meet some new characters. And, as a bonus, no allergies and no crying! Super bonus: kissing!
Well, that was quite a cliffhanger yesterday, wasn't it? I mean, Brutus hadn't seen Marty in at least 5 hours. Where could he have gone? And what will Anjel do without his compelling presence? All your questions will be answered today in ...
GOODBYE - MIDDLE NAMES, CONTINUED
It has been 2 weeks since Anjel has read that note. In a split second decision she knew what she had to do. She couldn’t live without Marty. So she is trekking the universe, searching for him. The friends of the now seperated inseperable duo are greatly saddened by this development. Anjel sends regular post cards. So far she has covered ½ of Georgia without any luck. But then one day, -- 2 months later
Anjel stopped into a café for some coffee. As she found a seat, she saw a familiar back of a head [surely he didn’t have the only mullet in Georgia.]
“It can’t be!” she said to herself
But it was. Marty was sitting in a booth.
2 seats away from Anjel.
“Marty!” she screamed across the café [I thought he was only 2 seats away?]
Marty looked up and saw Anjel! They ran to each other. Anjel began to cry
“I thought I’d never see you again” said Anjel through her tears.
“Hey don’t cry Dr. Theodosia?”
Anjel looked up.
“Doctor?”
And with that they knew something was screwy.
It took them 2 hours, but they finally figured it out. They walked out beneath the peach trees and dendrohn bushes, hand in hand.
“My gosh it’s beautiful in Georgia.”
“Yeah, I love it here.”
“I know why.”
“Know what else I love?”
“What” asked Angel.
“I love you”
“I love you, too.”
They kissed each other. [I had the word “deeply” crossed out here. Too risqué.]
“Anjel, will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
[And here’s the telegram I had Anjel send home. Yes, a telegram.]
Dear Brutus + Mr. P + Sherry
I found him! STOP
GETTING MARRIED STOP
LOVE ANJEL
[then I wrote a guest list for the wedding. I’ll spare you, because it’s basically just a list of my favorite wrestlers, although I did color code them to indicate whether they were friends of the bride or friends of the groom]
[here’s the invitation. It is remarkably devoid of swirlies]
A WEDDING
Time – 12:00 PM
Day – May 1st, 92
AT – St. John’s Cathedral
For Marty Jannetty + Charlotte (Anjel) Theodosia
Note: this wedding is a goodbye to the couple, they are moving to Georgia
~~~After the wedding~~~
Brutus came up to Anjel – Mrs. Charlotte Theodosia Jannetty.
“Congrats Anjel” he said and hugged her. Anjel noticed some moisture in Brutuses’ eyes. [FOR THE LOVE OF PETE, DO YOU EVER STOP CRYING?]
“Do you always cry at weddings?” she asked with a few tears of her own forming.
“Naw, it’s just … Aw to heck with it I don’t want to see you two go!” the tears spilled over his cheeks. Anjel hugged him warmly.
“I don’t want to see you go either, Brutus, but we’ll write letters, O.K.?” [yes, but how can you be sure they won’t be forged??]
“Yeah, O.K.” Brutus sniffled and smiled he went over to Marty.
“You’re beautiful.” said Mr. Perfect smiling at Anjel. “Marty is very lucky.” [what, no tears?]
“Thank you, Mr. Perfect.”
“I … I … I’m really going to miss you.” said Mr. P. fighting the tears back and trying to force the lump in his throat down. He didn’t succeed, they streamed down his face. [about time. sheesh] She hugged him.
“Hey, don’t cry over me,” she said.
“Too late” he managed to smile
“Oops, looks like I’m crying over you, I am going to miss you too.” said a teary-eyed Anjel.
-------------------
There were more tear filled goodbyes until, it was time to go
-------------------
“Goodbye everyone, we’ll write! We’ll miss you all!” said Mr. + Mrs. Jannetty
-------------------
They both moved to Georgia and had a wonderful life together. They always wrote to Mr. P, Brutus, and Sherri and visited and called often.
So, you ask is this the end? There are so many unanswered questions.
THE END
Notes
1) I know I expressed disbelief about this when I typed it, but it’s worth mentioning again. A telegram? Seriously? Why does no one use a phone?
2) Anjel treks across Georgia in search of Marty? WTF is she doing, knocking on random folks’ doors? I assume Marty went to stay with his family … why didn’t she check there first?
3) So after I finished this story, I realized that I had written myself into a hole. They got married, they’re happy … uhh … now what? I thought that tag about unanswered questions would help, but then I realized that there really weren’t any. I tried continuing by just writing about Mr. Perfect (that story is coming up next), but that just didn’t cut it for me. I missed my Mary Sue.
After trying out a couple of different things (a few more torn-out pages are evidence of this), I had a brilliant idea. All I had to do was add these words to the end of the story: “This is the WWF’s explanation of why Marty and Anjel left the federation. But wouldn’t you love to hear THE REAL STORY?”
Ta-da! See … wrestling is fake. I knew that. I wrote like it wasn’t, but I exploited the fact that it was when I needed to.
Coming up next: “A Perfect Point of View” – I wrote this before I came up with the aforementioned brilliant way to rewrite history. I tried writing a story without Anjel in it. I failed. Mr. Perfect can’t help but contact her. Oh well. At least we meet some new characters. And, as a bonus, no allergies and no crying! Super bonus: kissing!
Monday, August 4, 2008
Chapter 12 - "Goodbye, < Middle Names II"
(new here? hi! please check out the introduction)
This one is my favorite. I can’t believe I wrote this.
Chapter 12 - “Goodbye.< Middle Names II”
8:05 am
Ms. Elizabeth could not believe the fans were more in favor of Anjel than her! Something drastic had to be done. She sat down and thought up a fiendishly clever and sinister plot. By the end of the day she would spring it into action.
4:55 PM
“Marty! Where are you!? The match will start in 5 minutes!” said Anjel frantically. (Little did our heroine know that this was all part of Elizabeth’s Master Plan.)
--- back in Elizabeth’s dressing room ---
--- Elizabeth had pulled Marty into the room as he walked past it.
“Marty, Anjel wanted me to tell you something.”
“Woah, now, Elizabeth. I’m not stupid. I know that you and Anjel do not get along. Whatever she wants to tell me she’ll do it herself.” he turned to leave, but Elizabeth grabbed him. “Allright, isn’t this Anjels handwriting?” she asked handing him a perfectly forged note.
Dear Marty,
I don’t know how to put this, but I must go back to Idaho. I will be living with a relative in Boise. I have to leave immeadiatly. Please don’t be sad. I have been given a job offering to be a doctor. There is no way you could com with me. You see, the relatives I have agreed to live with have a strict rule about strangers in the house. I tried to explain to them, but I couldn’t persuede them. Try to forget about me. Put me out of your mind.
I’ve already said goodbye to Brutus, Sherri, Mr. P., and the rest of the bunch. Goodbye 2 U. I love you. By the time you read this I’ll be gone. All of My Love – Charlotte Theodosia (Anjel)
P.S. Throw out this letter as soon as you read it. Prolonged sadness may lead to depression. All the Best, <3 Anjel
“It is her handwriting. I don’t believe it.” said Marty and tears filled his eyes. Elizabeth knew that Marty could not see through her phony disguise. “Oh Marty, I know how you feel. When Randy left me I went home. That’s why I’ve packed your bags for you, booked you a flight to Georgia. I’ve also sent a note to your friends saying goodbye. Here, now I’ll tear up your note.” Which she did. Marty was too heartbroken to say or do anything. There was a beep from outside. “Now there’s your cab.” She handed him the fare.
“He knows where to take you. Have a good flight.” she said and led him to the cab.
Just like that. He was gone. Time for phase 2 of the plan to be put into action. Elizabeth slipped a note beneath Anjel’s door and ran away silently. Anjel saw the note and read it. It as in Marty’s handwriting.
Dear Anjel,
I Regret To Say That I Must Go Back To Georgia. My Poor Grandfather Is Sick.
I Love You. – Marty Jannetty
“I don’t buy it.” Said Anjel looking over the note.
“First of all, 1 of Marty’s grandfathers live in Alabama and the other one lives in Maine. And if Marty really wrote that he’d put more into it. But it is his handwriting. I don’t get it.
Anjel walked around the whole building. No trace of him.
She asked all of Marty’s friends from Brutus to Al the janitor [?? Maybe he was in a lost story?]
“Sorry Anj, he never said anything to me, and I haven’t seen him in at least 5 hours.” said Brutus.
TO BE CONTINUED ...
NOTES:
1) Elizabeth seems somewhat disproportionately angry about Anjel’s offhand remark, no? But I must admit, her plan is AIR TIGHT. She even hands Marty the correct cab fare.
2) I don’t know about you, but I’d be a bit suspicious of any place that would offer Anjel a job as a doctor, seeing as how she’s not a doctor.
3) Does no one own a phone? I know this was way before the advent of cell phones … but still …people did communicate in the early 90’s via means that did not involve notes. Who share major pieces of vital information via notes?? Oh, yeah, middle-schoolers.
This one is my favorite. I can’t believe I wrote this.
Chapter 12 - “Goodbye.< Middle Names II”
8:05 am
Ms. Elizabeth could not believe the fans were more in favor of Anjel than her! Something drastic had to be done. She sat down and thought up a fiendishly clever and sinister plot. By the end of the day she would spring it into action.
4:55 PM
“Marty! Where are you!? The match will start in 5 minutes!” said Anjel frantically. (Little did our heroine know that this was all part of Elizabeth’s Master Plan.)
--- back in Elizabeth’s dressing room ---
--- Elizabeth had pulled Marty into the room as he walked past it.
“Marty, Anjel wanted me to tell you something.”
“Woah, now, Elizabeth. I’m not stupid. I know that you and Anjel do not get along. Whatever she wants to tell me she’ll do it herself.” he turned to leave, but Elizabeth grabbed him. “Allright, isn’t this Anjels handwriting?” she asked handing him a perfectly forged note.
Dear Marty,
I don’t know how to put this, but I must go back to Idaho. I will be living with a relative in Boise. I have to leave immeadiatly. Please don’t be sad. I have been given a job offering to be a doctor. There is no way you could com with me. You see, the relatives I have agreed to live with have a strict rule about strangers in the house. I tried to explain to them, but I couldn’t persuede them. Try to forget about me. Put me out of your mind.
I’ve already said goodbye to Brutus, Sherri, Mr. P., and the rest of the bunch. Goodbye 2 U. I love you. By the time you read this I’ll be gone. All of My Love – Charlotte Theodosia (Anjel)
P.S. Throw out this letter as soon as you read it. Prolonged sadness may lead to depression. All the Best, <3 Anjel
“It is her handwriting. I don’t believe it.” said Marty and tears filled his eyes. Elizabeth knew that Marty could not see through her phony disguise. “Oh Marty, I know how you feel. When Randy left me I went home. That’s why I’ve packed your bags for you, booked you a flight to Georgia. I’ve also sent a note to your friends saying goodbye. Here, now I’ll tear up your note.” Which she did. Marty was too heartbroken to say or do anything. There was a beep from outside. “Now there’s your cab.” She handed him the fare.
“He knows where to take you. Have a good flight.” she said and led him to the cab.
Just like that. He was gone. Time for phase 2 of the plan to be put into action. Elizabeth slipped a note beneath Anjel’s door and ran away silently. Anjel saw the note and read it. It as in Marty’s handwriting.
Dear Anjel,
I Regret To Say That I Must Go Back To Georgia. My Poor Grandfather Is Sick.
I Love You. – Marty Jannetty
“I don’t buy it.” Said Anjel looking over the note.
“First of all, 1 of Marty’s grandfathers live in Alabama and the other one lives in Maine. And if Marty really wrote that he’d put more into it. But it is his handwriting. I don’t get it.
Anjel walked around the whole building. No trace of him.
She asked all of Marty’s friends from Brutus to Al the janitor [?? Maybe he was in a lost story?]
“Sorry Anj, he never said anything to me, and I haven’t seen him in at least 5 hours.” said Brutus.
TO BE CONTINUED ...
NOTES:
1) Elizabeth seems somewhat disproportionately angry about Anjel’s offhand remark, no? But I must admit, her plan is AIR TIGHT. She even hands Marty the correct cab fare.
2) I don’t know about you, but I’d be a bit suspicious of any place that would offer Anjel a job as a doctor, seeing as how she’s not a doctor.
3) Does no one own a phone? I know this was way before the advent of cell phones … but still …people did communicate in the early 90’s via means that did not involve notes. Who share major pieces of vital information via notes?? Oh, yeah, middle-schoolers.
Friday, August 1, 2008
Chapter 11: "Reunited: Part II"
(new here? hi! please check out the introduction)
I hadn't planned on making a sequel to "Reunited," but then I decided that it was very important. You're the winners here, folks. This is freaking awful. This is also where things get super dramatic! It’s so dramatic that I wrote “Who are True Friends?” in the top margin.
Chapter 11: Reunited PT. 2 [I stopped numbering chapters at this point, but I’ll keep it up here for aesthetic purposes]
Stagehand Steve Scharner was lifting some large and heavy boxes.
Marty’s flu was drifting him into sleep. His 102 degree fever had risen to 102.7. Anjel was mopping his forehead with a damp cloth. He mumbled something incoherently and fell asleep. Anjel kissed him on the forehead and went to the little table to finish some paperwork. [ooh … a language arts problem this time? Maybe the critical thinking questions at the end of a social studies chapter?]
Brutus was lifting lightweights in the gym below the dressing room area, 25 more pumps and to the showers. Then he could go up to Laurie.
Laurie Traynor was peering into the store room where musclebound Steve paused to mop his brow. She walked out into the hall way into the storeroom.
“Hi.” she said.
“Hi.” he said putting the box and looking at her slim figure and beautiful features.
Anjel wet the cloth again. Marty was tossing and turning. She cooled his face and felt his forehead.
Brutus headed for the showers.
Meanwhile Laurie was moving closer to Steve.
Anjel squoze Marty’s hand and went back to the table.
Laurie was passionatly kissing Steve. [dang. She moves fast]
Brutus was looking for Laurie.
He found her. Kissing Steve.
Laurie gasped.
“I … I … Brutus … I We …”
Steve left abruptly.
Anjel saw that Marty was sleeping soundly and walked into her dressing room.
“Brutus. We had something great, but it’s gone. We’re no more than friends. I’ve booked a flight to San Francisco. I’m leaving soon. I’ll always remember you as the man I wanted to marry, But now, you’re the man who I was a friend of. Good bye, Brutus.” she said. [that’s way less awkward than half the ways I broke up with people in real life]
She Pecked him on the cheek, and all of a sudden she was gone. Leaving Brutus open mouthed and heart broken. He needed a friend. Someone to talk to. Hulk was gone. Marty was sick. Anjel. He knocked on her door.
“Come in.” she said
“Brutus stepped in. Tears must have been streaming down his face, because Anjel rushed over to him and led him to the bed to sit down [a bed? In a dressing room?]. She asked him “What’s the matter?”
“Laurie left me” he said softly.
Anjel wrapped her arms around him and felt her shoulder dampen from Brutus’ tears.
Brutus was a little embarrassed because he was crying on a girls’ shoulder but Anjel did not seem to mind, and he was to upset to care. Plus he wasn’t sobbing, just silent tears. [hurl!]
They both sat like that for a long time. No one saying anything, just Brutus crying softly with Anjel holding him. The only words were an occasional “It’s O.K., It’s O.K.,” from Anjel while she hugged him and Moved her hand in an up and down pattern to calm him down” [just in case you weren’t sure of the mechanics of comforting a friend, I spelled it out for you in simple steps!]
[Alright, I’m cutting a page out here … it’s just more of him crying and her comforting him. She even hands him one of those blasted tissues she seems to produce at will. Trust me, you’re not missing anything. Brutus finally composes himself enough to speak]
“We seemed so happy together. Then I came upstairs from the gym and showers and there she was, kissing the stagehand. She said that all we could be was friends, that our love had died, and left me.”
Then he saw Anjel was crying.
“It’s my fault” she said “I set you two up. If I hadn’t have brought you and Laurie together this would nave never happened. You wouldn’t be upset. You’d be your normal happy self.”
“You’re wrong, Anjel. I wouldn’t be happy, I would be miserable. I would be wondering what my lost love Laurie. It’s her fault for being a jerk, not yours for being nice. You flew to San Francisco to be nice, to help a friend. And I thank you. You are a very wonderful friend, Anjel.” [whatever, Bru … you should have told her to stuff it]
They both stared into each other’s tear-streaked face and red and puffy eyes. “Thank you” they said at the same time. And poor asleep Marty missed it all.
NOTES:
1- In real life, Marty Jannetty had disappeared from the scene because he had to work out some personal problems. Out of sight, out of mind for me, as evidenced by his persistent flu and the awesome last line of this chapter.
2. This chapter was originally followed by one called “One good Turn.” I don’t remember what went on in that one, but I evidently hated it, because I ripped it out. (that’s evidence of self-editing. I know, I can barely believe it myself). All that’s left is the title and one line of scribbled-over text that says “Marty was miraculously 100% better.” Tough break, Marty. Looks like you had a chance in that chapter. Oh well.
Coming up next: “Goodbye. < Middle Names II” – in which Miss Elizabeth takes her revenge! You don't want to miss this one. It's ... just ... unabashedly bad.
I hadn't planned on making a sequel to "Reunited," but then I decided that it was very important. You're the winners here, folks. This is freaking awful. This is also where things get super dramatic! It’s so dramatic that I wrote “Who are True Friends?” in the top margin.
Chapter 11: Reunited PT. 2 [I stopped numbering chapters at this point, but I’ll keep it up here for aesthetic purposes]
Stagehand Steve Scharner was lifting some large and heavy boxes.
Marty’s flu was drifting him into sleep. His 102 degree fever had risen to 102.7. Anjel was mopping his forehead with a damp cloth. He mumbled something incoherently and fell asleep. Anjel kissed him on the forehead and went to the little table to finish some paperwork. [ooh … a language arts problem this time? Maybe the critical thinking questions at the end of a social studies chapter?]
Brutus was lifting lightweights in the gym below the dressing room area, 25 more pumps and to the showers. Then he could go up to Laurie.
Laurie Traynor was peering into the store room where musclebound Steve paused to mop his brow. She walked out into the hall way into the storeroom.
“Hi.” she said.
“Hi.” he said putting the box and looking at her slim figure and beautiful features.
Anjel wet the cloth again. Marty was tossing and turning. She cooled his face and felt his forehead.
Brutus headed for the showers.
Meanwhile Laurie was moving closer to Steve.
Anjel squoze Marty’s hand and went back to the table.
Laurie was passionatly kissing Steve. [dang. She moves fast]
Brutus was looking for Laurie.
He found her. Kissing Steve.
Laurie gasped.
“I … I … Brutus … I We …”
Steve left abruptly.
Anjel saw that Marty was sleeping soundly and walked into her dressing room.
“Brutus. We had something great, but it’s gone. We’re no more than friends. I’ve booked a flight to San Francisco. I’m leaving soon. I’ll always remember you as the man I wanted to marry, But now, you’re the man who I was a friend of. Good bye, Brutus.” she said. [that’s way less awkward than half the ways I broke up with people in real life]
She Pecked him on the cheek, and all of a sudden she was gone. Leaving Brutus open mouthed and heart broken. He needed a friend. Someone to talk to. Hulk was gone. Marty was sick. Anjel. He knocked on her door.
“Come in.” she said
“Brutus stepped in. Tears must have been streaming down his face, because Anjel rushed over to him and led him to the bed to sit down [a bed? In a dressing room?]. She asked him “What’s the matter?”
“Laurie left me” he said softly.
Anjel wrapped her arms around him and felt her shoulder dampen from Brutus’ tears.
Brutus was a little embarrassed because he was crying on a girls’ shoulder but Anjel did not seem to mind, and he was to upset to care. Plus he wasn’t sobbing, just silent tears. [hurl!]
They both sat like that for a long time. No one saying anything, just Brutus crying softly with Anjel holding him. The only words were an occasional “It’s O.K., It’s O.K.,” from Anjel while she hugged him and Moved her hand in an up and down pattern to calm him down” [just in case you weren’t sure of the mechanics of comforting a friend, I spelled it out for you in simple steps!]
[Alright, I’m cutting a page out here … it’s just more of him crying and her comforting him. She even hands him one of those blasted tissues she seems to produce at will. Trust me, you’re not missing anything. Brutus finally composes himself enough to speak]
“We seemed so happy together. Then I came upstairs from the gym and showers and there she was, kissing the stagehand. She said that all we could be was friends, that our love had died, and left me.”
Then he saw Anjel was crying.
“It’s my fault” she said “I set you two up. If I hadn’t have brought you and Laurie together this would nave never happened. You wouldn’t be upset. You’d be your normal happy self.”
“You’re wrong, Anjel. I wouldn’t be happy, I would be miserable. I would be wondering what my lost love Laurie. It’s her fault for being a jerk, not yours for being nice. You flew to San Francisco to be nice, to help a friend. And I thank you. You are a very wonderful friend, Anjel.” [whatever, Bru … you should have told her to stuff it]
They both stared into each other’s tear-streaked face and red and puffy eyes. “Thank you” they said at the same time. And poor asleep Marty missed it all.
NOTES:
1- In real life, Marty Jannetty had disappeared from the scene because he had to work out some personal problems. Out of sight, out of mind for me, as evidenced by his persistent flu and the awesome last line of this chapter.
2. This chapter was originally followed by one called “One good Turn.” I don’t remember what went on in that one, but I evidently hated it, because I ripped it out. (that’s evidence of self-editing. I know, I can barely believe it myself). All that’s left is the title and one line of scribbled-over text that says “Marty was miraculously 100% better.” Tough break, Marty. Looks like you had a chance in that chapter. Oh well.
Coming up next: “Goodbye. < Middle Names II” – in which Miss Elizabeth takes her revenge! You don't want to miss this one. It's ... just ... unabashedly bad.
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