Hi all,
UnabashedlyBad is on a short hiatus because of holidays and job interviews (!!). Never fear: your favorite thrilling compost heap of melodrama will return on Jan 4th with a vengeance. Until then, Merry Happy and enjoy the remnants of '09!
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Monday, December 7, 2009
Chapter 58: About Last Night
Hooo boy, it's been a while, huh? Between Thanksgiving shenanigans and the aforementioned crazytimes that is my job right now, I have spent waaaay too much time on events that do not include updating this thing. I apologize most heartily.
So let's have a brief recap, shall we? Angel met Jeff at a bar. Dustin was all "stay away" and Angel was all "naw, dude" and Jeff was all "look at my complicated sideburns." So Jeff and Angel went on a date and Angel was all "I am not going to overthink this" and Jeff was all "UR HAWT" and they were both all "let's not do it" and then they went back to her hotel room and made out.
Ok, good, we're all up to speed. Today: uhmmm ... pretty much nothing happens. But at least there was nothing I had to censor.
Chapter 58: About Last Night
Angel awoke to the sound of the shower running. The bathroom door was open. She picked Jeff’s shirt up off the floor, slipped it over her heard, and began brushing her teeth.
“I would have figured you for a shower-singer,” she called in to Jeff.
“Dead on. I just didn’t want to wake you. [then why didn’t you close the door?] Good morning.”
“Morning.”
“Hand me a towel?”
Angel placed one into his outstretched hand. She finished brushing her teeth. Jeff stepped out of the shower with the towel wrapped around his waist. Angel tried valiantly not to check him out, but failed. He noticed and grinned.
“Caught me.”
“It helps that these towels are roughly the size of washcloths.”
“Yes it does.”
“Angel … about last night …”
Her stomach flipped. “Yeah?”
“I think we made sex obsolete.”
He must’ve detected relief in her laughter. “You were worried I’d say something else?”
“Maybe.”
“Damn, you look sexy in the morning. “
“Bed-head suits me?” [everything suits you, Angel. EVERYTHING. You could dip yourself in dog poo, roll in cigarette butts, and affix rotting pigeon carcasses to your hair and you’d still look ravishing.]
“Utterly. I’d kiss you, but my toothbrush is in a different hotel.” [for shame. I so would imagine Jeff to carry a travel oral hygiene kit with him wherever he went just for situations like this]
Angel waved the tiny bottle of complimentary mouthwash at him.
“Score!”
“So Jeff, about last night …” Angel began as he rinsed his mouth.
“Mmph?”
“When can we do it again?”
As it happened, the answer to that question was “Immediately.” [oh ick]
---
Later, Angel lay in Jeff’s arms staring at the hotel ceiling, wondering how the heck she had gotten there, but trying not to wonder too hard. Her circular thoughts were broken by a glance at the clock.
“Eleven AM already? Dang.”
“You’ve got somewhere to be?”
“Not entirely. But check-out is noon, and I’ve got to …”
“Check-out?” Jeff asked. “I thought you were here for three more days.” [what kind of wrestling card lasts three days?]
“No, you’re here for three more days, silly. WCW is moving on to greener pastures. If that’s a way to describe Harrisburg, PA. I’m driving up there after the show tonight,” she said, pulling on a pair of jeans. [really, Angel? Not even a shower?]
“Seriously?”
“Afraid so.”
“Wow. So this really was a one-night stand?”
“I think it was more like a night-and-a-half.”
Wow. I thought for sure I’d be able to see you one more time.” [uhm, she’s not disappearing into thin air.]
“ ‘See me,’ eh?” she smirked.
“Yeah. Yes. Really.” He grabbed his shirt off the floor, smoothed it out as best he could, and buttoned it up. “Like … an actual date, even.”
“Did you suddenly quit wrestling?”
“What? Oh … you and not dating wrestlers. You really meant that?”
“Absolutely.” Angel was fully dressed now and beginning to pack up her toiletries.
“Angel,” Jeff touched her arm. “I’m not looking for anything serious, believe me, but I’ve enjoyed the hell out of these last 18 hours or so, and I really don’t want it to end. And it’s not just because you’re insanely sexy. Although that helps.”
Angel zipped up her toiletries bag. “Jeff …”
“Brunch?” [consider that a prescient shout-out, Oleg]
She smiled at him and looked at her watch.
“Brunch. But not hotel brunch.”
“Afraid of bumping into too many of your friends?”
“Mostly afraid of the food.”
“You’ve got a deal. Look, I’m going back to my room to change and get my gear. Call me when you’re all checked out and we’ll find a place. Ok?”
“Ok.”
Jeff took her hand and kissed it. “Until then,” he said, making his exit.
“Such a charmer, Hardy.” Angel shook her head and finished packing up. 11:30—half an hour to spare. She sat on the bed and exhaled.
What the heck had she just done? Well … she reasoned … to be perfectly honest, nothing she hadn’t done before … just with someone she barely knew. And that was the exciting part, the wonderful part, the slightly terrifying part. But brunch? Angel had been fully prepared to never see Jeff again. How did I happen that she would in fact see him again in less than an hour?
NOTES:
1) Showering with the door open? Yeah. Slice does that. He pees with the door open too. One time he tried to get away with pooping with the door open. That was not acceptible. I wish Jeff had tried that.
2) I personally do not like brunch. Lunch I find quite enjoyable, but brunch is always a let-down. Mostly because I don't like eggs and can't understand why eating a plate of pancakes could possibly result in anything but a long nap afterwards. I would imagine that Jeff would make brunch much more enticing, however, what with his rapier wit and all.
Coming up next …
Yes, we have to witness brunch. But then we actually get to revisit Angel’s office! And we get to hear about Dustin's honeymoon. Sort of. At any rate, I promise that Barry's coming back soon.
See you next time for ... Chapter 59: Invitations.
So let's have a brief recap, shall we? Angel met Jeff at a bar. Dustin was all "stay away" and Angel was all "naw, dude" and Jeff was all "look at my complicated sideburns." So Jeff and Angel went on a date and Angel was all "I am not going to overthink this" and Jeff was all "UR HAWT" and they were both all "let's not do it" and then they went back to her hotel room and made out.
Ok, good, we're all up to speed. Today: uhmmm ... pretty much nothing happens. But at least there was nothing I had to censor.
Chapter 58: About Last Night
Angel awoke to the sound of the shower running. The bathroom door was open. She picked Jeff’s shirt up off the floor, slipped it over her heard, and began brushing her teeth.
“I would have figured you for a shower-singer,” she called in to Jeff.
“Dead on. I just didn’t want to wake you. [then why didn’t you close the door?] Good morning.”
“Morning.”
“Hand me a towel?”
Angel placed one into his outstretched hand. She finished brushing her teeth. Jeff stepped out of the shower with the towel wrapped around his waist. Angel tried valiantly not to check him out, but failed. He noticed and grinned.
“Caught me.”
“It helps that these towels are roughly the size of washcloths.”
“Yes it does.”
“Angel … about last night …”
Her stomach flipped. “Yeah?”
“I think we made sex obsolete.”
He must’ve detected relief in her laughter. “You were worried I’d say something else?”
“Maybe.”
“Damn, you look sexy in the morning. “
“Bed-head suits me?” [everything suits you, Angel. EVERYTHING. You could dip yourself in dog poo, roll in cigarette butts, and affix rotting pigeon carcasses to your hair and you’d still look ravishing.]
“Utterly. I’d kiss you, but my toothbrush is in a different hotel.” [for shame. I so would imagine Jeff to carry a travel oral hygiene kit with him wherever he went just for situations like this]
Angel waved the tiny bottle of complimentary mouthwash at him.
“Score!”
“So Jeff, about last night …” Angel began as he rinsed his mouth.
“Mmph?”
“When can we do it again?”
As it happened, the answer to that question was “Immediately.” [oh ick]
---
Later, Angel lay in Jeff’s arms staring at the hotel ceiling, wondering how the heck she had gotten there, but trying not to wonder too hard. Her circular thoughts were broken by a glance at the clock.
“Eleven AM already? Dang.”
“You’ve got somewhere to be?”
“Not entirely. But check-out is noon, and I’ve got to …”
“Check-out?” Jeff asked. “I thought you were here for three more days.” [what kind of wrestling card lasts three days?]
“No, you’re here for three more days, silly. WCW is moving on to greener pastures. If that’s a way to describe Harrisburg, PA. I’m driving up there after the show tonight,” she said, pulling on a pair of jeans. [really, Angel? Not even a shower?]
“Seriously?”
“Afraid so.”
“Wow. So this really was a one-night stand?”
“I think it was more like a night-and-a-half.”
Wow. I thought for sure I’d be able to see you one more time.” [uhm, she’s not disappearing into thin air.]
“ ‘See me,’ eh?” she smirked.
“Yeah. Yes. Really.” He grabbed his shirt off the floor, smoothed it out as best he could, and buttoned it up. “Like … an actual date, even.”
“Did you suddenly quit wrestling?”
“What? Oh … you and not dating wrestlers. You really meant that?”
“Absolutely.” Angel was fully dressed now and beginning to pack up her toiletries.
“Angel,” Jeff touched her arm. “I’m not looking for anything serious, believe me, but I’ve enjoyed the hell out of these last 18 hours or so, and I really don’t want it to end. And it’s not just because you’re insanely sexy. Although that helps.”
Angel zipped up her toiletries bag. “Jeff …”
“Brunch?” [consider that a prescient shout-out, Oleg]
She smiled at him and looked at her watch.
“Brunch. But not hotel brunch.”
“Afraid of bumping into too many of your friends?”
“Mostly afraid of the food.”
“You’ve got a deal. Look, I’m going back to my room to change and get my gear. Call me when you’re all checked out and we’ll find a place. Ok?”
“Ok.”
Jeff took her hand and kissed it. “Until then,” he said, making his exit.
“Such a charmer, Hardy.” Angel shook her head and finished packing up. 11:30—half an hour to spare. She sat on the bed and exhaled.
What the heck had she just done? Well … she reasoned … to be perfectly honest, nothing she hadn’t done before … just with someone she barely knew. And that was the exciting part, the wonderful part, the slightly terrifying part. But brunch? Angel had been fully prepared to never see Jeff again. How did I happen that she would in fact see him again in less than an hour?
NOTES:
1) Showering with the door open? Yeah. Slice does that. He pees with the door open too. One time he tried to get away with pooping with the door open. That was not acceptible. I wish Jeff had tried that.
2) I personally do not like brunch. Lunch I find quite enjoyable, but brunch is always a let-down. Mostly because I don't like eggs and can't understand why eating a plate of pancakes could possibly result in anything but a long nap afterwards. I would imagine that Jeff would make brunch much more enticing, however, what with his rapier wit and all.
Coming up next …
Yes, we have to witness brunch. But then we actually get to revisit Angel’s office! And we get to hear about Dustin's honeymoon. Sort of. At any rate, I promise that Barry's coming back soon.
See you next time for ... Chapter 59: Invitations.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Chapter 57: One Night (Part III)
So sitemeter allows me to see which phrases people are googling in order to get to this blog. Amazingly enough, the most frequently googled phrase is actually “barry windham wrestling boots.” Hey, they WERE pretty snazzy. So if you stumbled across here looking for boots, but somehow got caught up in this drama instead, welcome. And if you are seriously missing Barry … have patience. I promise that he’ll be back as soon as we get a bit more of this Jeff garbage out of the way. Today, we get one step closer:
Chapter 57: One Night (Part III)
“So I guess you’re not one of those women who gets turned off by the overconfident lady-killer type?”
“You’re not overconfident. You’re charming.”
Jeff chuckled.
“Besides,” Angel added. “I’ve been with your opposite—the goofy, shy, good-natured, slightly-awkward guy.”
“Too boring?”
“Too insistent on sleeping with his ex. Whoops, sorry, there went the fifth.”
“I won’t use it against you in court.”
“Thanks. Hey, Jeff, I just realized something.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, here we are at my hotel,” Angel said as Jeff opened the lobby door for her, “and we’re heading up to my room, but I don’t have any wine or movies or board games or music or photo albums or magazines or any other things we can pretend to be interested in until one of us makes a move on the other.” [photo albums? That’s a turn on. “Hey, here’s me in seventh grade! Look at my braces. Hey! Here’s me and my best friends. You don’t know any of them.”]
Jeff laughed as they stepped out of the elevator. “I like you a whole damn lot, Angel [sigh. Remember when characters would apologize for swearing? I kind of miss those days]. I guess we’ll just have to have a pretend object of interest. There’s got to be a room service menu. Or a pad and pen next to the phone. We could play hangman until one of us makes a move.”
“Are we really going to do that?”
“Probably not.”
“What about tic tac toe?” Angel asked as she inserted the key into the door. [is that a double entendre?]
“Are you that much of a glutton for punishment?”
“Are you sure that first victory wasn’t a fluke?”
“Those are fighting words, lady.”
The door closed behind them. Angel smiled at Jeff. “I’m going to go freshen up. I can’t believe I actually just said that. Only movie people say that.” [and characters in bad wrestling fan fiction, apparently]
“It’s classier than saying that you’re going to the can.”
“Excellent point!” At any rate, I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home—or at least your own hotel room.”
When Angel returned, Jeff was sitting on the bed with a pad of paper and a pen. “I’m X’s,” he said, handing the pad to Angel. She sat next to him and took the paper.
“Only suckers start in the middle.” [was THAT a double entendre?]
“Mmm-hmm,” he replied, handing her the pen. She took it and filled the rest of the squares with O’s [see bracketed comment above].
“Sucker,” she said.
“You play dirty.”
She grinned at him. He moved his face closer to hers, took the pen from her hand and put it in his shirt front pocket.
“I bet you do too.” She took the pen from his pocket and threw it on the floor [that seemed unnecessary]. Then she hooked her fingers in the pocket and drew him closer. Their noses touched. She felt his breath on her lips … [Ahem. Yeah. I know I promised that I’d type everything as it was written, but I actually forgot that I wrote this scene. It’s embarrassing, but not in the same way that lines like “love means hates nothing about” is embarrassing. So I’m just going to pretend that there are no extended descriptions of the way his calloused fingers felt against her soft skin or anything like that. Trust me, you’re really not missing anything. Let’s just say that they make out a lot, and it’s gross. Don’t worry, gentle readers, they don’t actually “do it.” There’s no need for anyone to go and tattle to Rick Steiner.]
NOTES:
1) Wow, I’m glad this one is behind me. At least this chapter is an outlier—the rest of ‘em are all strictly PG-13.
2) Oh Angel, you harlot. Rebounding with Slashburns in your hotel room. Freshening up. Throwing his pen on the floor. What happened to the nice young lady who brought cookies to a party and wore apricot t-shirts with a slight v-neck?
3) Let’s assume that it was a morning wrestling card. Why not?
Coming up next …
Angel and Jeff have a little talk about what happened the night before. I am going to have to prop my eyelids open with toothpicks to actually transcribe it. The good news is that we’ll get a break from Jeff chapters soon. Not soon enough, of course, but soon.
See you next time for …
Chapter 58: Invitations
Chapter 57: One Night (Part III)
“So I guess you’re not one of those women who gets turned off by the overconfident lady-killer type?”
“You’re not overconfident. You’re charming.”
Jeff chuckled.
“Besides,” Angel added. “I’ve been with your opposite—the goofy, shy, good-natured, slightly-awkward guy.”
“Too boring?”
“Too insistent on sleeping with his ex. Whoops, sorry, there went the fifth.”
“I won’t use it against you in court.”
“Thanks. Hey, Jeff, I just realized something.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, here we are at my hotel,” Angel said as Jeff opened the lobby door for her, “and we’re heading up to my room, but I don’t have any wine or movies or board games or music or photo albums or magazines or any other things we can pretend to be interested in until one of us makes a move on the other.” [photo albums? That’s a turn on. “Hey, here’s me in seventh grade! Look at my braces. Hey! Here’s me and my best friends. You don’t know any of them.”]
Jeff laughed as they stepped out of the elevator. “I like you a whole damn lot, Angel [sigh. Remember when characters would apologize for swearing? I kind of miss those days]. I guess we’ll just have to have a pretend object of interest. There’s got to be a room service menu. Or a pad and pen next to the phone. We could play hangman until one of us makes a move.”
“Are we really going to do that?”
“Probably not.”
“What about tic tac toe?” Angel asked as she inserted the key into the door. [is that a double entendre?]
“Are you that much of a glutton for punishment?”
“Are you sure that first victory wasn’t a fluke?”
“Those are fighting words, lady.”
The door closed behind them. Angel smiled at Jeff. “I’m going to go freshen up. I can’t believe I actually just said that. Only movie people say that.” [and characters in bad wrestling fan fiction, apparently]
“It’s classier than saying that you’re going to the can.”
“Excellent point!” At any rate, I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home—or at least your own hotel room.”
When Angel returned, Jeff was sitting on the bed with a pad of paper and a pen. “I’m X’s,” he said, handing the pad to Angel. She sat next to him and took the paper.
“Only suckers start in the middle.” [was THAT a double entendre?]
“Mmm-hmm,” he replied, handing her the pen. She took it and filled the rest of the squares with O’s [see bracketed comment above].
“Sucker,” she said.
“You play dirty.”
She grinned at him. He moved his face closer to hers, took the pen from her hand and put it in his shirt front pocket.
“I bet you do too.” She took the pen from his pocket and threw it on the floor [that seemed unnecessary]. Then she hooked her fingers in the pocket and drew him closer. Their noses touched. She felt his breath on her lips … [Ahem. Yeah. I know I promised that I’d type everything as it was written, but I actually forgot that I wrote this scene. It’s embarrassing, but not in the same way that lines like “love means hates nothing about” is embarrassing. So I’m just going to pretend that there are no extended descriptions of the way his calloused fingers felt against her soft skin or anything like that. Trust me, you’re really not missing anything. Let’s just say that they make out a lot, and it’s gross. Don’t worry, gentle readers, they don’t actually “do it.” There’s no need for anyone to go and tattle to Rick Steiner.]
NOTES:
1) Wow, I’m glad this one is behind me. At least this chapter is an outlier—the rest of ‘em are all strictly PG-13.
2) Oh Angel, you harlot. Rebounding with Slashburns in your hotel room. Freshening up. Throwing his pen on the floor. What happened to the nice young lady who brought cookies to a party and wore apricot t-shirts with a slight v-neck?
3) Let’s assume that it was a morning wrestling card. Why not?
Coming up next …
Angel and Jeff have a little talk about what happened the night before. I am going to have to prop my eyelids open with toothpicks to actually transcribe it. The good news is that we’ll get a break from Jeff chapters soon. Not soon enough, of course, but soon.
See you next time for …
Chapter 58: Invitations
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Chapter 57: One Night (Part II)
When last we left Jefgel, they were conversing about movies and favorite bands and being astonished at the fact that Angel worked in wrestling. Plus, Angel was wearing new underwear and I was squirming uncomfortably at the fact that I had written any of this. Today: Jeff nonchalantly admits that he is a musician and Angel has an internal monologue where she marvels about how she has no emotional attachment to Jeff and therefore it's a good idea to start getting frisky with him. Just a warning: that will be a recurring theme. I'm trying to think of a concise tag for that phenomenon. If y'all have any suggestions, please do share.
Chapter 57 – One Night (Part II)
“So look … what do you say we get out of here, take a walk along the pier, and get some ice cream or something?” Jeff said as they finished their meal.
“I’m up for the walk, but not the ice cream. I ate like fifty pounds of crab in there.”
“Who’s counting?”
“My engorged stomach.”
“Engorged … that’s such a romantic word. I’ll have to work that into a song.”
“You write songs?”
“Here and there. Did you like my lame attempt at working that seamlessly into the conversation?”
“Admirable indeed. Do you sing?”
“I try.”
“And play the guitar?”
“Am I that obvious?”
“Nah. Yeah,” she giggled. “Let me guess … you write songs about women.”
“Wrong on that one.”
“So it’s not a lure?”
“Well, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t lure incidentally, but I really just love to play.” [I've already rolled my eyes like 300 times since this chapter started]
“That’s cool. I used to play the violin in junior high. I gave it up when I started forming a chin callus.” [way to suffer for your art, Angel]
Jeff smiled at her and extended his right hand. “These are like my badge of honor,” he said, displaying his callused fingers.
“You know what would have looked just as cool? A humongous one of those on my face.”
Jeff laughed and turned towards her as they leaned on the railing overlooking the water. “Anything marring that face would be a crime,” he said, tracing her jawline with his finger. [uggggg] Angel shivered at his touch. “So, Angel?”
“Yes?”
“I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night.”
“What’s been stopping you?”
He tilted her face up towards his and brought his lips to hers. Angel’s head swam. No one had ever kissed her like this. The second his lips touched hers, everything else ceased to matter—but it wasn’t that she was caught up in love for him, as she had been with Chris, but with such a fierce passion that she could think of nothing else. When the kiss ended, she felt dizzy. [I don't feel so good myself having read that]
“Jeff …”
“Yeah?”
But she didn’t know what to say. The way he was looking at her rendered her speechless. His dark hazel eyes were locked on hers. He looked like he wanted to devour her. She had the distinct feeling that she was looking at him the same way.
“I … uhm …”
“We have the most intense chemistry I’ve ever felt. No joke.”
“Yeah.”
“I mean it. Look. You probably know that I’m no saint. I’ve been around … but this is crazy. The second I touch you, I …”
“Lose track of life?”
“Pretty much. That’s not a line, Angel. I’m speaking the truth here.”
“I know.”
“And you know what’s almost stupid?”
“What?”
“I like you so much that I wouldn’t even consider having a one night stand.”
“You only sleep with people you don’t like?”
“The fifth.”
Angel laughed. “So Jeff ... if I invite you back to my hotel room, I don’t have to worry about you thinking I’m a slut because I know it won’t be with the expectation of sleeping with you on the first non-date.”
“You’re seriously going to tempt me like that?”
“All I’m going to do is invite you back. You have my solemn vow that we will not have sex.”
“This is the weirdest conversation I’ve had in a long time.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Absolutely.”
As they walked back, neither of them spoke, but it wasn’t uncomfortable silence at all. Angel tried valiantly to not think about what she was doing, but she couldn’t help it. What if Jeff had not brought sex up? What if he hadn’t already promised not to sleep with her? How could she possibly tell him that she was a virgin without freaking him out? Was she seriously going back to her hotel room with a guy she barely knew, especially a guy she wanted this badly? Was he actually going to find out she was wearing a thong? That last thought sent shivers down her spine.
“So look, Angel, [awkward PSA alert!] even though we’ve not to have sex and we’ve both pleaded the fifth about all previous relationships, I just want you to know that even though I’ve been around, I’ve always done it safely.”
“Thanks, Jeff. I appreciate you saying that … and I’ve never had unsafe sex either.” Not at a lie at all, Angel thought. And there was really no reason to clarify beyond that. There was little chance she and Jeff would see each other again after this weekend. Why should she ruin a perfectly good night with awkward conversation, especially when they’d already agreed not to have sex?
--------------------------------
NOTES:
1) Gee, Angel, I don't know, why WOULD you ruin a good night with conversation? Why would you try to get to know someone a little bit better before inviting him back to your hotel room?
2) As smarmy as Jeff is, I don't quite want to punch him in the solar plexus just yet. Let's look at this from his perspective: he's a total hottie and he knows it. There's a hot blonde nurse looking to rebound. Everything he's doing and saying is totally in character. The only icky thing is that the hot nurse in question is Angel. He doesn't know that yet, readers. I actually feel kind of sorry for him at this point.
3) Don't you wish that Dustin had been eating at that restaurant too?
COMING UP NEXT ...
Avert your eyes, readers. It gets sort of steamy. I might actually have to tone it down a little, because otherwise I wouldn't be able to make eye contact with those of you whom I know in person. We'll see.
Tune in next time for ...
Chapter 57: One Night (Part III)
Chapter 57 – One Night (Part II)
“So look … what do you say we get out of here, take a walk along the pier, and get some ice cream or something?” Jeff said as they finished their meal.
“I’m up for the walk, but not the ice cream. I ate like fifty pounds of crab in there.”
“Who’s counting?”
“My engorged stomach.”
“Engorged … that’s such a romantic word. I’ll have to work that into a song.”
“You write songs?”
“Here and there. Did you like my lame attempt at working that seamlessly into the conversation?”
“Admirable indeed. Do you sing?”
“I try.”
“And play the guitar?”
“Am I that obvious?”
“Nah. Yeah,” she giggled. “Let me guess … you write songs about women.”
“Wrong on that one.”
“So it’s not a lure?”
“Well, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t lure incidentally, but I really just love to play.” [I've already rolled my eyes like 300 times since this chapter started]
“That’s cool. I used to play the violin in junior high. I gave it up when I started forming a chin callus.” [way to suffer for your art, Angel]
Jeff smiled at her and extended his right hand. “These are like my badge of honor,” he said, displaying his callused fingers.
“You know what would have looked just as cool? A humongous one of those on my face.”
Jeff laughed and turned towards her as they leaned on the railing overlooking the water. “Anything marring that face would be a crime,” he said, tracing her jawline with his finger. [uggggg] Angel shivered at his touch. “So, Angel?”
“Yes?”
“I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night.”
“What’s been stopping you?”
He tilted her face up towards his and brought his lips to hers. Angel’s head swam. No one had ever kissed her like this. The second his lips touched hers, everything else ceased to matter—but it wasn’t that she was caught up in love for him, as she had been with Chris, but with such a fierce passion that she could think of nothing else. When the kiss ended, she felt dizzy. [I don't feel so good myself having read that]
“Jeff …”
“Yeah?”
But she didn’t know what to say. The way he was looking at her rendered her speechless. His dark hazel eyes were locked on hers. He looked like he wanted to devour her. She had the distinct feeling that she was looking at him the same way.
“I … uhm …”
“We have the most intense chemistry I’ve ever felt. No joke.”
“Yeah.”
“I mean it. Look. You probably know that I’m no saint. I’ve been around … but this is crazy. The second I touch you, I …”
“Lose track of life?”
“Pretty much. That’s not a line, Angel. I’m speaking the truth here.”
“I know.”
“And you know what’s almost stupid?”
“What?”
“I like you so much that I wouldn’t even consider having a one night stand.”
“You only sleep with people you don’t like?”
“The fifth.”
Angel laughed. “So Jeff ... if I invite you back to my hotel room, I don’t have to worry about you thinking I’m a slut because I know it won’t be with the expectation of sleeping with you on the first non-date.”
“You’re seriously going to tempt me like that?”
“All I’m going to do is invite you back. You have my solemn vow that we will not have sex.”
“This is the weirdest conversation I’ve had in a long time.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Absolutely.”
As they walked back, neither of them spoke, but it wasn’t uncomfortable silence at all. Angel tried valiantly to not think about what she was doing, but she couldn’t help it. What if Jeff had not brought sex up? What if he hadn’t already promised not to sleep with her? How could she possibly tell him that she was a virgin without freaking him out? Was she seriously going back to her hotel room with a guy she barely knew, especially a guy she wanted this badly? Was he actually going to find out she was wearing a thong? That last thought sent shivers down her spine.
“So look, Angel, [awkward PSA alert!] even though we’ve not to have sex and we’ve both pleaded the fifth about all previous relationships, I just want you to know that even though I’ve been around, I’ve always done it safely.”
“Thanks, Jeff. I appreciate you saying that … and I’ve never had unsafe sex either.” Not at a lie at all, Angel thought. And there was really no reason to clarify beyond that. There was little chance she and Jeff would see each other again after this weekend. Why should she ruin a perfectly good night with awkward conversation, especially when they’d already agreed not to have sex?
--------------------------------
NOTES:
1) Gee, Angel, I don't know, why WOULD you ruin a good night with conversation? Why would you try to get to know someone a little bit better before inviting him back to your hotel room?
2) As smarmy as Jeff is, I don't quite want to punch him in the solar plexus just yet. Let's look at this from his perspective: he's a total hottie and he knows it. There's a hot blonde nurse looking to rebound. Everything he's doing and saying is totally in character. The only icky thing is that the hot nurse in question is Angel. He doesn't know that yet, readers. I actually feel kind of sorry for him at this point.
3) Don't you wish that Dustin had been eating at that restaurant too?
COMING UP NEXT ...
Avert your eyes, readers. It gets sort of steamy. I might actually have to tone it down a little, because otherwise I wouldn't be able to make eye contact with those of you whom I know in person. We'll see.
Tune in next time for ...
Chapter 57: One Night (Part III)
Friday, November 6, 2009
Chapter 57: One Night (Part I)
Welcome, gentle readers. So last week, Angel talked to Dustin on the phone. Dustin warned her about Jeff's reputation as a ladykilling cad. Then Angel talked to Jeff on the phone. Jeff used some smooooth lines on Angel and they decided to go on a date. SQUEEEEEEEEEE! Today, Angel goes on that date. But first, she has to buy underwear. Yes, you read that right. Oh how I wish I had never written this one.
Chapter 57: One Night (Part I)
The urge to buy fancy underwear had never really struck Angel. [it’s all downhill from here, folks]. Angel was a simple cotton skivvies kind of girl. Sure, they were pretty colors and none of them came above her bellybutton or anything horrendous like that, but they were all very … polite. But there was something about Jeff that made her feel a deep need for thongs. [oh gross. I’m sorry, everyone.]
She felt something akin to self-consciousness as she browsed through the store. What was too much when it came to these kinds of things? How could these be comfortable [yeah, they can’t]? Did she really expect Jeff to see them anyway? That last question was not up for discussion … she was simply not thinking about what might or might not happen with Jeff.
She finally settled on a lacy black number. Sexy, but not overdoing it.
She wore a sheer black tank top [doesn’t that mean it’s see-through? I’m somewhat fashion illiterate] and an electric blue skirt and knee-high boots, also recent purchases. Her hair fell in soft layers [holla, 1998!] around her face and her lips shone with raspberry gloss.
“I’m pretty damn hot,” she said to her reflection. Why had it taken her so long to show some cleavage? [wow. Again … I’m sorry, readers.]
Jeff arrived six minutes late. Angel had never felt so acutely aware of the passing of minutes. When the knock finally came on her hotel room door, Angel had to force her hands to stop shaking.
“Be cool, lady,” she told herself as she opened the door.
Jeff looked amazing. His hair was pulled back, revealing the patterned slashes of sideburns. He wore a long-sleeved button-down shirt over stylish jeans. One arm was tucked behind his back.
“Hey Jeff,” Angel said, ushering him in.
“Hello, sexy.” Angel noticed the way his gaze quickly swept over her body before he met her gaze [super classy]. She smiled inwardly. “I know we’re just chilling, and not on a date, seeing as how I’m a wrestler and all, so I didn’t bring you flowers. But I did bring you this.” He produced a small brown paper bag from behind his back.
Angel smirked at him and opened the bag.
“A rubber ducky?”
“A Baltimore, Maryland rubber ducky.”
“It sure is. Thank you, Jeff. Its pained squeaks will always remind me of this non-date.”
“Ouch?”
“I’m only kidding. Thank you, really.”
“You look gorgeous.”
“You look pretty good yourself.”
“Shall we?”
She took his extended arm and locked the door behind her. [how many hotels require you to lock the door behind you? Don’t tell me she suddenly transported to her house again]
------------------------------------------------------
“This is my favorite restaurant in the Inner Harbor—not too touristy, don’t usually have to worry about fans. Fabulous crab cakes.”
“Good to know!”
“So what’s your story, Angel?” He asked, pushing her chair in for her.
“Hmm … what to say … well, I’m a nurse. I travel around with WCW. Guess it’s easier and cheaper for them than having the EMTs on call.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, well … I guess it saves money by …”
“No, I mean I had no idea you were in the business.” [I was starting to forget myself, actually]
“Why else would I have sworn off wrestlers? Ohh … you thought I was a ring rat, eh?” [a “ring rat” is basically a wrestling groupie]
“Well, you were hanging out at a hotel bar.”
“Yeah. Bad move on my part. It just seemed like a happening spot. You obviously have no problem with ring rats, seeing as how you’re sitting here.”
“Pleading the fifth.”
“No problem.”
“Been burned by a bunch of the guys, huh?”
“Fifth applies to me too.”
“Cool with me.” They clinked glasses. “I’m actually pretty relieved that you’re on the inside. Now we can talk about something besides …”
“Whether or not it’s fake.”
“Amen.”
“I’ve treated enough gaping wounds to know how real it is.”
“And you don’t have the glazed-over fan look in your eyes.”
“Nope.”
“You actually look more cynical than anything else.”
“Check.”
“The reason for which is …”
“Part of that fifth I plead.”
“Gotcha. And how do you usually react to the starry-eyed fan-variety eyes?”
“Fifth it is.”
“Okay then.” Angel laughed. “So let’s not talk about wrestling or wrestlers or wrestling fans. Or any permutations of the above.” [sounds like it will mesh well with the usual fare on this blog]
“Agreed. What’s your favorite band?”
“Pearl Jam. What’s your favorite movie?”
“The Shawshank Redemption. What’s your favorite food?”
“Lasagna. What’s your favorite season?”
“Winter.”
“Winter? That’s the worst! I’m from the south, so any time it gets below 60, I break out the winter coat.”
“Where in the south?”
“North Carolina.” [an obvious shout out to future me, no?]
“It’s gorgeous down there. I’ve always loved it when we traveled through it.”
“Yeah, I get a few weeks off coming to me I a little while. I can’t wait to get back there.”
“Ugg. I need a vacation too.”
“Well, if you get one, feel free to drop by NC.”
“Maybe I will,” Angel said, returning his grin.
------------------------------------------------------
NOTES:
1) I've never actually seen The Shawshank Redemption. I have no idea why I decided it was Angel's favorite movie. I would, however, like to point out that Pearl Jam is Jeff Hardy's favorite band and lasagna is his favorite food. I did some background research. That is so, so, so much more sad than when I did this kind of stuff at age 13.
Allright, folks ... I could write more, but I've got to hustle myself off to a conference in Hotlanta. Apologies in general for the lateness of updates recently. Busy, busy, busy, busy. Blarg. Things should settle down here in a month or so.
Coming up next ...
Angel and Jeff continue to have a date. It features "charming" banter and further grossness re: Jeff's ineluctable attraction to Angel. You might want to have some Pepto nearby when you read it. Tune in next time for ...
Chapter 57: One Night (Part II)
Chapter 57: One Night (Part I)
The urge to buy fancy underwear had never really struck Angel. [it’s all downhill from here, folks]. Angel was a simple cotton skivvies kind of girl. Sure, they were pretty colors and none of them came above her bellybutton or anything horrendous like that, but they were all very … polite. But there was something about Jeff that made her feel a deep need for thongs. [oh gross. I’m sorry, everyone.]
She felt something akin to self-consciousness as she browsed through the store. What was too much when it came to these kinds of things? How could these be comfortable [yeah, they can’t]? Did she really expect Jeff to see them anyway? That last question was not up for discussion … she was simply not thinking about what might or might not happen with Jeff.
She finally settled on a lacy black number. Sexy, but not overdoing it.
She wore a sheer black tank top [doesn’t that mean it’s see-through? I’m somewhat fashion illiterate] and an electric blue skirt and knee-high boots, also recent purchases. Her hair fell in soft layers [holla, 1998!] around her face and her lips shone with raspberry gloss.
“I’m pretty damn hot,” she said to her reflection. Why had it taken her so long to show some cleavage? [wow. Again … I’m sorry, readers.]
Jeff arrived six minutes late. Angel had never felt so acutely aware of the passing of minutes. When the knock finally came on her hotel room door, Angel had to force her hands to stop shaking.
“Be cool, lady,” she told herself as she opened the door.
Jeff looked amazing. His hair was pulled back, revealing the patterned slashes of sideburns. He wore a long-sleeved button-down shirt over stylish jeans. One arm was tucked behind his back.
“Hey Jeff,” Angel said, ushering him in.
“Hello, sexy.” Angel noticed the way his gaze quickly swept over her body before he met her gaze [super classy]. She smiled inwardly. “I know we’re just chilling, and not on a date, seeing as how I’m a wrestler and all, so I didn’t bring you flowers. But I did bring you this.” He produced a small brown paper bag from behind his back.
Angel smirked at him and opened the bag.
“A rubber ducky?”
“A Baltimore, Maryland rubber ducky.”
“It sure is. Thank you, Jeff. Its pained squeaks will always remind me of this non-date.”
“Ouch?”
“I’m only kidding. Thank you, really.”
“You look gorgeous.”
“You look pretty good yourself.”
“Shall we?”
She took his extended arm and locked the door behind her. [how many hotels require you to lock the door behind you? Don’t tell me she suddenly transported to her house again]
------------------------------------------------------
“This is my favorite restaurant in the Inner Harbor—not too touristy, don’t usually have to worry about fans. Fabulous crab cakes.”
“Good to know!”
“So what’s your story, Angel?” He asked, pushing her chair in for her.
“Hmm … what to say … well, I’m a nurse. I travel around with WCW. Guess it’s easier and cheaper for them than having the EMTs on call.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, well … I guess it saves money by …”
“No, I mean I had no idea you were in the business.” [I was starting to forget myself, actually]
“Why else would I have sworn off wrestlers? Ohh … you thought I was a ring rat, eh?” [a “ring rat” is basically a wrestling groupie]
“Well, you were hanging out at a hotel bar.”
“Yeah. Bad move on my part. It just seemed like a happening spot. You obviously have no problem with ring rats, seeing as how you’re sitting here.”
“Pleading the fifth.”
“No problem.”
“Been burned by a bunch of the guys, huh?”
“Fifth applies to me too.”
“Cool with me.” They clinked glasses. “I’m actually pretty relieved that you’re on the inside. Now we can talk about something besides …”
“Whether or not it’s fake.”
“Amen.”
“I’ve treated enough gaping wounds to know how real it is.”
“And you don’t have the glazed-over fan look in your eyes.”
“Nope.”
“You actually look more cynical than anything else.”
“Check.”
“The reason for which is …”
“Part of that fifth I plead.”
“Gotcha. And how do you usually react to the starry-eyed fan-variety eyes?”
“Fifth it is.”
“Okay then.” Angel laughed. “So let’s not talk about wrestling or wrestlers or wrestling fans. Or any permutations of the above.” [sounds like it will mesh well with the usual fare on this blog]
“Agreed. What’s your favorite band?”
“Pearl Jam. What’s your favorite movie?”
“The Shawshank Redemption. What’s your favorite food?”
“Lasagna. What’s your favorite season?”
“Winter.”
“Winter? That’s the worst! I’m from the south, so any time it gets below 60, I break out the winter coat.”
“Where in the south?”
“North Carolina.” [an obvious shout out to future me, no?]
“It’s gorgeous down there. I’ve always loved it when we traveled through it.”
“Yeah, I get a few weeks off coming to me I a little while. I can’t wait to get back there.”
“Ugg. I need a vacation too.”
“Well, if you get one, feel free to drop by NC.”
“Maybe I will,” Angel said, returning his grin.
------------------------------------------------------
NOTES:
1) I've never actually seen The Shawshank Redemption. I have no idea why I decided it was Angel's favorite movie. I would, however, like to point out that Pearl Jam is Jeff Hardy's favorite band and lasagna is his favorite food. I did some background research. That is so, so, so much more sad than when I did this kind of stuff at age 13.
Allright, folks ... I could write more, but I've got to hustle myself off to a conference in Hotlanta. Apologies in general for the lateness of updates recently. Busy, busy, busy, busy. Blarg. Things should settle down here in a month or so.
Coming up next ...
Angel and Jeff continue to have a date. It features "charming" banter and further grossness re: Jeff's ineluctable attraction to Angel. You might want to have some Pepto nearby when you read it. Tune in next time for ...
Chapter 57: One Night (Part II)
Friday, October 30, 2009
Chapter 56: The Other Half (Part II)
As I suggested last week, this chapter is pretty much just Angel talking on the phone. If it helps, you can imagine that other, more interesting things are happening in the background. Perhaps dancing manatees are involved. Or ninjas. Who doesn’t love a ninja?
In other news … my love … for ellipses … is … overwhelmingly obvious … in … this chapter.
Chapter 56: The Other Half (part II)
When Angel looked at her answering machine, her heart fluttered … there were four messages. Maybe he had called?
“Angel? This is Dustin. Look … just call me as soon as you get this.”
“Angel … this is Scott. Give me a ring when you can.”
“Angel … Dustin again. Please call me soon. I’m worried about you.”
And then …
“Hey there Angel. I don’t know if you remember me or not, but I’m betting that you do. You lost at tic tac toe to a handsome stranger … that handsome stranger was me. [that is so smooth I can barely stand it. Fellas, take notes]. Anyway …. I’d love to hang out again. I’ll call you later.”
Angel barely prevented herself from squealing. He had called. And he said he’d call later! When the phone rang again, she was so excited that she forgot to see what it was.
“Hello?”
“Angel? I’m so glad I finally caught you!”
“Oh … hey Dustin. What’s up?” [cue the manatees!]
“Angel … about the other night …”
“Dustin. I know you’re just looking out for me … but I’m a grown woman.”
“I know, I know … but he’s bad news.” [bad news? Who talks like that?]
“So what?”
“He’s not your type, darlin’.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have a type, Dustin. Maybe I should just have a good time hanging out with Jeff.”
“He’s just … he’s a bad sort. Our partying all the time, going through women like water … he’s no gentleman.” [no, seriously: who talks like that?]
“Dustin … do you know how many gentlemen turn out to be scumbags? I’ve dated enough nice guys to know that they break your heart too. So if I know Jeff is a jerk to begin with, which I don’t even actually know, maybe that’s to my ultimate advantage.”
“Angel …”
“I have to go, Dustin. Have a nice night.” [won’t she see him later? Doesn’t she, you know, work with him?]
Angel hung up the phone before he could reply or protest. She knew her friend meant well, but the absolute last thing she watned to do right now was get love advice from Dustin Rhodes.
The phone rang again … it was Jeff. Angel took a deep breath and answered it.
“Hello?”
“Hey pretty lady.” [cue the ninjas!]
“Hey smooth talker.”
“So I think we should hang out.”
“Me too. “
“Excellent. I’m in town for three more nights.” [what kind of wrestling card lasts three nights?!?]
“We’d better not waste any time then.”
“I agree. I’ll pick you up at seven.” [wait … when is he going to wrestle?]
“See you then, Jeff.”
“Later, Angel.”
Angel hung up the phone and sunk into the couch [in her hotel room? Does she have a suite? Or are we suddenly back in her apartment again?] Seven! What should she wear? Three more nights? And then what? But she couldn’t allow herself to worry about that now. Jeff Hardy wasn’t about the future, he was about now. And now she had to go get something to wear. [why not just wear your outfit from Sting’s party? That was a hit!]
NOTES
1) When was the last time Angel did anything related to her job? Or, for that matter, anyone wrestled?
2) I wonder what Scott wanted. Maybe to let Angel know that he’s in town, seeing as how Jeff is there. Scott is supposedly still in the WWF, which is of course where Jeff is. Yeah, my wrestling chronology is completely screwed up. I obviously wanted to introduce Jeff, but in doing so, needed to conveniently ignore the fact that 6 years of wrestling storylines and brand switches have elapsed. Hooray for artistic license!
3) Sort of hanging up on Dustin is the least lame thing Angel has ever done.
COMING UP NEXT …
Angel buys underwear. Oh man. I’m sooooo sorry about this. And then she goes on a date with Jeff. If you’ve got the intestinal fortitude [tm Gorilla Monsoon], tune in next week for …
Chapter 57: One Night
In other news … my love … for ellipses … is … overwhelmingly obvious … in … this chapter.
Chapter 56: The Other Half (part II)
When Angel looked at her answering machine, her heart fluttered … there were four messages. Maybe he had called?
“Angel? This is Dustin. Look … just call me as soon as you get this.”
“Angel … this is Scott. Give me a ring when you can.”
“Angel … Dustin again. Please call me soon. I’m worried about you.”
And then …
“Hey there Angel. I don’t know if you remember me or not, but I’m betting that you do. You lost at tic tac toe to a handsome stranger … that handsome stranger was me. [that is so smooth I can barely stand it. Fellas, take notes]. Anyway …. I’d love to hang out again. I’ll call you later.”
Angel barely prevented herself from squealing. He had called. And he said he’d call later! When the phone rang again, she was so excited that she forgot to see what it was.
“Hello?”
“Angel? I’m so glad I finally caught you!”
“Oh … hey Dustin. What’s up?” [cue the manatees!]
“Angel … about the other night …”
“Dustin. I know you’re just looking out for me … but I’m a grown woman.”
“I know, I know … but he’s bad news.” [bad news? Who talks like that?]
“So what?”
“He’s not your type, darlin’.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have a type, Dustin. Maybe I should just have a good time hanging out with Jeff.”
“He’s just … he’s a bad sort. Our partying all the time, going through women like water … he’s no gentleman.” [no, seriously: who talks like that?]
“Dustin … do you know how many gentlemen turn out to be scumbags? I’ve dated enough nice guys to know that they break your heart too. So if I know Jeff is a jerk to begin with, which I don’t even actually know, maybe that’s to my ultimate advantage.”
“Angel …”
“I have to go, Dustin. Have a nice night.” [won’t she see him later? Doesn’t she, you know, work with him?]
Angel hung up the phone before he could reply or protest. She knew her friend meant well, but the absolute last thing she watned to do right now was get love advice from Dustin Rhodes.
The phone rang again … it was Jeff. Angel took a deep breath and answered it.
“Hello?”
“Hey pretty lady.” [cue the ninjas!]
“Hey smooth talker.”
“So I think we should hang out.”
“Me too. “
“Excellent. I’m in town for three more nights.” [what kind of wrestling card lasts three nights?!?]
“We’d better not waste any time then.”
“I agree. I’ll pick you up at seven.” [wait … when is he going to wrestle?]
“See you then, Jeff.”
“Later, Angel.”
Angel hung up the phone and sunk into the couch [in her hotel room? Does she have a suite? Or are we suddenly back in her apartment again?] Seven! What should she wear? Three more nights? And then what? But she couldn’t allow herself to worry about that now. Jeff Hardy wasn’t about the future, he was about now. And now she had to go get something to wear. [why not just wear your outfit from Sting’s party? That was a hit!]
NOTES
1) When was the last time Angel did anything related to her job? Or, for that matter, anyone wrestled?
2) I wonder what Scott wanted. Maybe to let Angel know that he’s in town, seeing as how Jeff is there. Scott is supposedly still in the WWF, which is of course where Jeff is. Yeah, my wrestling chronology is completely screwed up. I obviously wanted to introduce Jeff, but in doing so, needed to conveniently ignore the fact that 6 years of wrestling storylines and brand switches have elapsed. Hooray for artistic license!
3) Sort of hanging up on Dustin is the least lame thing Angel has ever done.
COMING UP NEXT …
Angel buys underwear. Oh man. I’m sooooo sorry about this. And then she goes on a date with Jeff. If you’ve got the intestinal fortitude [tm Gorilla Monsoon], tune in next week for …
Chapter 57: One Night
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Chapter 56: The Other Half (part I)
Hail, fearless readers. Last week, Jeff nauseated the entire galaxy by singing the praises of Angel's lips. This week, our stomach linings are granted a reprieve: today's chapter is approximately 87% Angel-Free. Whee!
Chapter 56: The Other Half (part I)
Angel felt as if her insides were made of gelatin. What had just happened? She grinned. Her phone rang.
“No way. He can’t be calling that soon,” she reasoned. But her heart leapt at the idea. But the caller ID was Dustin. [caller ID! Ha! Remember that?] She turned the ringer off and went to bed.
------
“Chris? You in there somewhere?” Justina asked, waving her arms theatrically in front of his face.
“Yeah … Yeah. Sorry, Foss. I’m just …”
“Thinking about the blonde.”
“How did you know she was blonde?”
“Benoit, you have a picture of her in your wallet.” [does anyone actually carry pictures of their girlfriends in their wallets?]
“Where did you get my wallet?”
“It’s open here on the end table. You should really keep track of it better.”
“Yeah. Hey, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Look … I know things are really confusing for you right now. I’m sorry I complicated everything.”
“Two to tango, Foss.”
“I know. Look, Chris … I didn’t want to ruin your life.”
Chris put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her intently. “Foss, you didn’t ruin anything. I’ve just got to sort some things out.”
She took his hands into hers and kissed them. “I have to go to work. I’ll see you later.”
Chris kissed her forehead and began to pack up his gear [woo! Duffel bagging!]. He exchanged nods and smiles with the other wrestlers who filtered through the dressing room and headed into the corridor. [sooo … this whole exchange took place in a dressing room? What was Justina doing there? Why would Chris have his wallet out on a table? How many dressing/locker rooms feature end tables?]
“Hey,” someone called behind him. Chris spun around to see Dustin Rhodes.
“What?”
“You going to tell me what’s going on with Angel?” [woah, that’s a bit forward, no?]
Chris put his bags down.
“Why the hell should I? You’re the one who screwed us up in the first place. So just back off, Rodeo Clown. I have nothing to explain to you. I owe you nothing.”
“Fair enough. Look, I know you have no reason to trust me or listen to me. And I also know that you and Angel’s relationship is none of my business … But I’m worried about her.”
“Dustin, I know she’s upset, but …”
“No—it’s not that. Chris, she left a bar last night with Jeff Hardy.”
“Jeff Hardy?”
“Yes. And when I tried to stop her, she went berserk on me. Chris, that fella is just no good. Parties all the time … with a different woman every night. Now, I’m not telling you what to do or how to run your love life, but I am telling you that you were so good for Angel, and I feel like a piece of garbage for getting in between y’all, and I’d do anything to get her away from that creep. I’ve said my piece.” [how patronizingly thoughtful of you]
Chris was silent. He clenched his jaw and offered his hand to Dustin.
“I appreciate that, Dustin. She doesn’t want to talk to me right now, and I don’t blame her. I screwed up bad. Bad. It’s going to take time. And my life is really confusing right now. So please, if you could, look after her as best you can?”
“Sure thing, Chris,” said Dustin, shaking Chris’s hand.
Chris ran his fingers through his hair, [ah, the classic physical manifestation of angst] picked up his bags, and left the arena.
NOTES:
1) Don’t you love it when male characters ask other male characters to “look after” female characters as if they were small children? Way to be progressive, college me.
2) I love how everyone knows Jeff Hardy well enough to have heard of him both as a wrestler and as a womanizer, but Angel couldn’t recognize him at the bar.
3) I kind of liked Chris in this chapter. Until he started showing concern for Angel.
COMING UP NEXT ....
In this chapter's exciting conclusion, Angel talks to various people on the phone. Wait, let me read it over again ... yeah, no, it's just talking to people on the phone. That's it.
See you next time for ...
Chapter 56: The Other Half (Part II)
Chapter 56: The Other Half (part I)
Angel felt as if her insides were made of gelatin. What had just happened? She grinned. Her phone rang.
“No way. He can’t be calling that soon,” she reasoned. But her heart leapt at the idea. But the caller ID was Dustin. [caller ID! Ha! Remember that?] She turned the ringer off and went to bed.
------
“Chris? You in there somewhere?” Justina asked, waving her arms theatrically in front of his face.
“Yeah … Yeah. Sorry, Foss. I’m just …”
“Thinking about the blonde.”
“How did you know she was blonde?”
“Benoit, you have a picture of her in your wallet.” [does anyone actually carry pictures of their girlfriends in their wallets?]
“Where did you get my wallet?”
“It’s open here on the end table. You should really keep track of it better.”
“Yeah. Hey, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Look … I know things are really confusing for you right now. I’m sorry I complicated everything.”
“Two to tango, Foss.”
“I know. Look, Chris … I didn’t want to ruin your life.”
Chris put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her intently. “Foss, you didn’t ruin anything. I’ve just got to sort some things out.”
She took his hands into hers and kissed them. “I have to go to work. I’ll see you later.”
Chris kissed her forehead and began to pack up his gear [woo! Duffel bagging!]. He exchanged nods and smiles with the other wrestlers who filtered through the dressing room and headed into the corridor. [sooo … this whole exchange took place in a dressing room? What was Justina doing there? Why would Chris have his wallet out on a table? How many dressing/locker rooms feature end tables?]
“Hey,” someone called behind him. Chris spun around to see Dustin Rhodes.
“What?”
“You going to tell me what’s going on with Angel?” [woah, that’s a bit forward, no?]
Chris put his bags down.
“Why the hell should I? You’re the one who screwed us up in the first place. So just back off, Rodeo Clown. I have nothing to explain to you. I owe you nothing.”
“Fair enough. Look, I know you have no reason to trust me or listen to me. And I also know that you and Angel’s relationship is none of my business … But I’m worried about her.”
“Dustin, I know she’s upset, but …”
“No—it’s not that. Chris, she left a bar last night with Jeff Hardy.”
“Jeff Hardy?”
“Yes. And when I tried to stop her, she went berserk on me. Chris, that fella is just no good. Parties all the time … with a different woman every night. Now, I’m not telling you what to do or how to run your love life, but I am telling you that you were so good for Angel, and I feel like a piece of garbage for getting in between y’all, and I’d do anything to get her away from that creep. I’ve said my piece.” [how patronizingly thoughtful of you]
Chris was silent. He clenched his jaw and offered his hand to Dustin.
“I appreciate that, Dustin. She doesn’t want to talk to me right now, and I don’t blame her. I screwed up bad. Bad. It’s going to take time. And my life is really confusing right now. So please, if you could, look after her as best you can?”
“Sure thing, Chris,” said Dustin, shaking Chris’s hand.
Chris ran his fingers through his hair, [ah, the classic physical manifestation of angst] picked up his bags, and left the arena.
NOTES:
1) Don’t you love it when male characters ask other male characters to “look after” female characters as if they were small children? Way to be progressive, college me.
2) I love how everyone knows Jeff Hardy well enough to have heard of him both as a wrestler and as a womanizer, but Angel couldn’t recognize him at the bar.
3) I kind of liked Chris in this chapter. Until he started showing concern for Angel.
COMING UP NEXT ....
In this chapter's exciting conclusion, Angel talks to various people on the phone. Wait, let me read it over again ... yeah, no, it's just talking to people on the phone. That's it.
See you next time for ...
Chapter 56: The Other Half (Part II)
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Chapter 55: Reevaluation (Part 2)
Welcome back, all. If you've made it this far, you've got a pretty strong stomach. And trust me, you're gonna need it for today's installment.
Chapter 55: Reevaluation (Part 2)
“You are?”
“Jeff Hardy.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard of you. You and your brother wrestle in WWF.”
“That’s me.”
“You guys are good.” [so you’ve heard of them, know that they’re good, but can’t recognize him? Oookay.]
“You have incredible lips, Angelica Kerris.” [oh barf.]
She tilted her head to one side and gave him a lopsided grin. [tm Joey Potter, I think. I lurved me some Dawson’s Creek back in the day. And by “back in the day” I mean I might have it on in the background as I type this.] “You’re quit the charmer, aren’t you?”
He pushed the bar napkin back towards her. “Wouldn’t you like to find out for sure?”
“And so full of yourself.” But she pulled the napkin towards her and lifted the pen. Before she could put a single digit on the paper, however, she became aware of a figure hovering over her.
“This creep bothering you, Angel?”
She looked up to see Dustin giving dirty glances to Jeff. Jeff stood up and glared back. [what is Dustin doing there? Aren’t they in Minnesota?]
“He’s fine, Dustin. I’m fine.”
“Stay away from him, Angel. He’s trouble.”
“Why don’t you back off and mind your own business, cowboy?” Jeff suggested, voice low and stern.
“Why don’t you,” Dustin began, but Angel gently pushed him aside.
“I said I’m fine, Dustin. We were just leaving.”
“You’re leaving with him?”
“Yes. Goodnight. Go home to your wife. I can take care of myself.”
“Angel,” Dustin half-whispered, “I know this guy. He’s not the kind of person you want to spend your time with. Where’s Chris?”
“I appreciate you looking out for me Dustin, but don’t worry about me … and don’t even breathe that man’s name to me ever again.” She turned to Jeff. “So let’s go.”
Jeff left a twenty on the bar and put his arm around Angel, leading her out of the bar. Dustin shook his head as he watched them leave.
The night was cool and foggy, but the air smelled somewhat sweet. They walked in silence for a few blocks before Jeff spoke.
“So you have some overprotective friends.”
“And you have a crappy reputation.”
“The two obviously don’t mix.”
“I guess not.”
“So are you going to give me your phone number or what?”
“Maybe.”
“Am I going to have to thrash you at tic tac toe again?”
“Maybe.”
“Where are we going?”
“You just walked me home,” she said, stopping in front of her hotel. [huh?!?]
“How about that?”
“Can you find your way back?”
“You’re not going to invite me in?” he asked with a playful smile.
“I’m not that kind of girl.”
“How should I know what kind of girl you are?”
“That’s right,” Angel mused aloud. “You don’t have any clue about who I am or how I act or what kinds of things I do or anything at all.”
“That could change.”
“Walk me to my room,” she said.
They made their way through the hotel in utterly unawkward silence. As they walked, Angel marveled at what she was doing – letting a total stranger—one with an apparently dangerous reputation—take her back to her room. What was she thinking?
As they got to her door, she turned to him. She knew what she was thinking then – he was gorgeous. She looked up at him.
“So do I get your phone number now?” he asked.
She responded by pulling him down towards her and kissing him. Taken somewhat off guard, Jeff quickly responded, placing one hand on her waist and the other on her face. Neither of them seemed willing to pull away. She could not remember the last time she had been kissed with such passion. Her knees felt watery. She gripped his arms to keep her balance. [what, no marveling at how muscular his arms are?]
When the kiss finally ended, they parted and looked at each other almost quizzically.
“I could tell,” he said after a little while.
“Tell what?”
“By looking at your lips. That you’d kiss like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like … there would be no words to describe it, only somehow only better than I imagined.” [uggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg]
“Give me a break,” she said, grinning. “You probably say that to every girl you pick up at a bar.”
“Nah. Some of them. But I rarely mean it. And I never mean it this much – ever. Scout’s honor.”
“So what is it—the way they’re shaped?” [yes, Angel. The way they’re shaped. And the fact that they’re attached to you, of course, because you are the living embodiment of scrumtrulescence.]
He lifted her chin and stared intently at her lips. “Partially—have you noticed how full your lower lip is?”
Before she could say “No,” he kissed her again softly. She almost wanted to invite him in. Almost.
“So can I get your number?”
“I suppose.” She grabbed a pen from her purse and wrote her number on a scrap of paper.
“I don’t date wrestlers,” she reminded him.
“Who’s dating? We’re just hanging out.”
“That’s fine then.”
“I’ll call you sometime, Angelica.”
“Angel.”
“If you like. It was nice meeting you, Jeff.”
“You too. Sleep well.”
“Be safe.”
He kissed her forehead. Even that small act sent tiny shivers down Angel’s spine. She smiled at him and stepped into her hotel room.
NOTES:
1) Good golly, I loathe Angel. That is all.
Coming up next ...
Chris and Justina kind of sort stuff out while Dustin inserts himself into a chapter for no reason. Tune in next time for ...
Chapter 56: The Other Half
Chapter 55: Reevaluation (Part 2)
“You are?”
“Jeff Hardy.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard of you. You and your brother wrestle in WWF.”
“That’s me.”
“You guys are good.” [so you’ve heard of them, know that they’re good, but can’t recognize him? Oookay.]
“You have incredible lips, Angelica Kerris.” [oh barf.]
She tilted her head to one side and gave him a lopsided grin. [tm Joey Potter, I think. I lurved me some Dawson’s Creek back in the day. And by “back in the day” I mean I might have it on in the background as I type this.] “You’re quit the charmer, aren’t you?”
He pushed the bar napkin back towards her. “Wouldn’t you like to find out for sure?”
“And so full of yourself.” But she pulled the napkin towards her and lifted the pen. Before she could put a single digit on the paper, however, she became aware of a figure hovering over her.
“This creep bothering you, Angel?”
She looked up to see Dustin giving dirty glances to Jeff. Jeff stood up and glared back. [what is Dustin doing there? Aren’t they in Minnesota?]
“He’s fine, Dustin. I’m fine.”
“Stay away from him, Angel. He’s trouble.”
“Why don’t you back off and mind your own business, cowboy?” Jeff suggested, voice low and stern.
“Why don’t you,” Dustin began, but Angel gently pushed him aside.
“I said I’m fine, Dustin. We were just leaving.”
“You’re leaving with him?”
“Yes. Goodnight. Go home to your wife. I can take care of myself.”
“Angel,” Dustin half-whispered, “I know this guy. He’s not the kind of person you want to spend your time with. Where’s Chris?”
“I appreciate you looking out for me Dustin, but don’t worry about me … and don’t even breathe that man’s name to me ever again.” She turned to Jeff. “So let’s go.”
Jeff left a twenty on the bar and put his arm around Angel, leading her out of the bar. Dustin shook his head as he watched them leave.
The night was cool and foggy, but the air smelled somewhat sweet. They walked in silence for a few blocks before Jeff spoke.
“So you have some overprotective friends.”
“And you have a crappy reputation.”
“The two obviously don’t mix.”
“I guess not.”
“So are you going to give me your phone number or what?”
“Maybe.”
“Am I going to have to thrash you at tic tac toe again?”
“Maybe.”
“Where are we going?”
“You just walked me home,” she said, stopping in front of her hotel. [huh?!?]
“How about that?”
“Can you find your way back?”
“You’re not going to invite me in?” he asked with a playful smile.
“I’m not that kind of girl.”
“How should I know what kind of girl you are?”
“That’s right,” Angel mused aloud. “You don’t have any clue about who I am or how I act or what kinds of things I do or anything at all.”
“That could change.”
“Walk me to my room,” she said.
They made their way through the hotel in utterly unawkward silence. As they walked, Angel marveled at what she was doing – letting a total stranger—one with an apparently dangerous reputation—take her back to her room. What was she thinking?
As they got to her door, she turned to him. She knew what she was thinking then – he was gorgeous. She looked up at him.
“So do I get your phone number now?” he asked.
She responded by pulling him down towards her and kissing him. Taken somewhat off guard, Jeff quickly responded, placing one hand on her waist and the other on her face. Neither of them seemed willing to pull away. She could not remember the last time she had been kissed with such passion. Her knees felt watery. She gripped his arms to keep her balance. [what, no marveling at how muscular his arms are?]
When the kiss finally ended, they parted and looked at each other almost quizzically.
“I could tell,” he said after a little while.
“Tell what?”
“By looking at your lips. That you’d kiss like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like … there would be no words to describe it, only somehow only better than I imagined.” [uggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg]
“Give me a break,” she said, grinning. “You probably say that to every girl you pick up at a bar.”
“Nah. Some of them. But I rarely mean it. And I never mean it this much – ever. Scout’s honor.”
“So what is it—the way they’re shaped?” [yes, Angel. The way they’re shaped. And the fact that they’re attached to you, of course, because you are the living embodiment of scrumtrulescence.]
He lifted her chin and stared intently at her lips. “Partially—have you noticed how full your lower lip is?”
Before she could say “No,” he kissed her again softly. She almost wanted to invite him in. Almost.
“So can I get your number?”
“I suppose.” She grabbed a pen from her purse and wrote her number on a scrap of paper.
“I don’t date wrestlers,” she reminded him.
“Who’s dating? We’re just hanging out.”
“That’s fine then.”
“I’ll call you sometime, Angelica.”
“Angel.”
“If you like. It was nice meeting you, Jeff.”
“You too. Sleep well.”
“Be safe.”
He kissed her forehead. Even that small act sent tiny shivers down Angel’s spine. She smiled at him and stepped into her hotel room.
NOTES:
1) Good golly, I loathe Angel. That is all.
Coming up next ...
Chris and Justina kind of sort stuff out while Dustin inserts himself into a chapter for no reason. Tune in next time for ...
Chapter 56: The Other Half
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Chapter 55: Reevaluation (Part I)
Greetings, all. And welcome to the Unabashedly Bad: The College Years.
In today's episode, Angel goes to a bar and has a drink. That's really pretty much all that happens. Oh, and yes, Amy. Armsocks. For serious.
Enjoy!
Chapter 55: Reevaluation (Part I)
Angel didn’t cry. [woah. was this chapter ghostwritten?] She had done enough crying in her life. She was done. She was also done with trying to figure out where she had gone wrong at every step in her entire relationship past. Right now, she just wanted to be alone. She didn’t answer the phone, she called in sick at work, and she deleted every message on her answering machine before she could even listen to them. She also briefly considered the following: quitting, moving, homicide, double homicide, and becoming a nun. She eventually talked herself out of each of these options, as they were all in some way impractical or illegal. But she had to do something different with herself. She couldn’t just bounce into work on Monday and smile as if her life were perfect. It was time for something different. She had been a sweet, naïve, unassuming girl all her life. All that got her was pain. Life had handed her so many lemons, but the lemonade she had turned them into was far too sweet. [see? I told you this was still bad.] Maybe it was time she spiked the lemonade.
“Okay,” she said out loud. “Okay.” She threw open the doors of her closet. [so she’s at home. In Minnesota. Remember that.] “I,” she said, grabbing a pair of heels, “am going to go to a bar and pick up men.” She put a coat of glossy red on to her lips. “No … I am going to a bar to let men try and pick up me.” She grabbed her purse and headed out. [Well that’s a stellar idea, Angel. But aren’t you afraid that your radiantly undeniable beauty will blind onlookers?]
The bar was noisy, smoky, and swarming with people. There were people in suits, people in jeans, and an alarming number of people with pronounced muscles and long hair.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Angel muttered to herself. She should’ve known better than to pick a hotel bar. Wrestlers. At least they weren’t from WCW. It looked like an odd blend of WWF guys and local indies [now why would they be mixing? And how would she know who they were?] Angel almost turned around, but then reasoned that she had nothing better to do and, seeing as how almost all the faces were unfamiliar, she might as well stay.
She sat at the end of the bar and ordered a cosmopolitan [sorry, folks. No winners this time]. She sipped it slowly and observed the throng of people. Men smiled at her. She smiled back. She had boring conversations with several forgettable guys, gave out three fake phone numbers, and switched to diet coke. Just as she was about to head out for the evening, someone leaned up against the bar right next to her.
“Leaving?” he asked.
“Maybe.”
“It’s not time to leave.”
“Why not?”
“You didn’t get to talk to me yet.”
“Man, you’ve got some confidence,” she said, smiling playfully. He didn’t’ respond, but he sat down and ordered a beer, motioning for the bartender to refill Angel’s drink as well.
As he ordered the drinks, Angel stole a quick glance at him. He was definitely a wrestler – with a body that looked cut out of marble. His face was young, smooth, and sharply defined, with sideburns that sloped at steep, marked angles towards his jawline. He was wearing a white shirt and baggy black jeans. And his hair …
“Is your hair purple?”
“Some of it.”
“Ok,” she said, shrugging.
“What’s your story?”
“It’s long and repetitive.” [pfft, she should’ve just given him the url of this blog]
“So let’s make it more fun.”
“That’s a horrible pick-up line.”
He flashed a smile at her. His eyes had a dark shine to them.
“You are incredibly sexy,” he said.
“You are incredibly forward.”
“It comes with the confidence.”
“I don’t date wrestlers,” she told him, turning back to the bar.
“What gave me away? The physique or the charisma?”
“The ego.”
“So we won’t date. We’ll chill.”
“We will?”
“I think so,” he handed her a bar napkin and a pen. She pushed it back towards him and grinned, noting the number sign.
“I just wanted to play tic tac toe. I was even going to let you start.”
“Okay.” She put an O in the center box and pushed it back towards him.
“Only a sucker starts in the middle box.” He put an X in the corner.
“Is that so?” She put an O in the other corner.
“Yep.” The napkin passed between them a few more times before he emerged triumphant. “See?”
“Only a sucker thinks he can impress a lady by beating her at tic tac toe.”
“What’s your name?”
“Angelica Kerris.”
“Pretty name.”
“You are?”
“Jeff Hardy.”
TO BE CONTINUED ...
NOTES:
1) Yeah, a cosmo. I saw a picture of one and thought it was pretty. I also assumed that it tasted good. Blech. Yes, as Oleg pointed out, I am hardly a connoisseur of alcohol. It all tastes nasty to me. If my parents are any indication, this aversion to alcohol has saved me a good deal of money and embarassment over the years. Sorry no one won this round. I've got another one coming up in chapter 61.
2) Jeff Hardy? Yeah, I thought he was pretty hawt back in the day. He looks kinda haggard these days, though, probably because of all those crazy drugs. Plus I heard he got in trouble with the law. I don't think Angel would approve of drugs and lawbreaking, Jeffy.
3) Who loses at tic tac toe? How does any game between two rational adults not end in a tie?
4) I love how Angel completely transforms in this chapter. It's almost as if three entire years have elapsed.
Oooooooookay.
COMING UP NEXT …
Jeff attempts to charm the pants off of Angel. Then one of Angel's Bestest Friends totally harshes on her realm. Hooo boy! Tune in next time for ...
Chapter 55: Reevaluation (Part II)
In today's episode, Angel goes to a bar and has a drink. That's really pretty much all that happens. Oh, and yes, Amy. Armsocks. For serious.
Enjoy!
Chapter 55: Reevaluation (Part I)
Angel didn’t cry. [woah. was this chapter ghostwritten?] She had done enough crying in her life. She was done. She was also done with trying to figure out where she had gone wrong at every step in her entire relationship past. Right now, she just wanted to be alone. She didn’t answer the phone, she called in sick at work, and she deleted every message on her answering machine before she could even listen to them. She also briefly considered the following: quitting, moving, homicide, double homicide, and becoming a nun. She eventually talked herself out of each of these options, as they were all in some way impractical or illegal. But she had to do something different with herself. She couldn’t just bounce into work on Monday and smile as if her life were perfect. It was time for something different. She had been a sweet, naïve, unassuming girl all her life. All that got her was pain. Life had handed her so many lemons, but the lemonade she had turned them into was far too sweet. [see? I told you this was still bad.] Maybe it was time she spiked the lemonade.
“Okay,” she said out loud. “Okay.” She threw open the doors of her closet. [so she’s at home. In Minnesota. Remember that.] “I,” she said, grabbing a pair of heels, “am going to go to a bar and pick up men.” She put a coat of glossy red on to her lips. “No … I am going to a bar to let men try and pick up me.” She grabbed her purse and headed out. [Well that’s a stellar idea, Angel. But aren’t you afraid that your radiantly undeniable beauty will blind onlookers?]
The bar was noisy, smoky, and swarming with people. There were people in suits, people in jeans, and an alarming number of people with pronounced muscles and long hair.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Angel muttered to herself. She should’ve known better than to pick a hotel bar. Wrestlers. At least they weren’t from WCW. It looked like an odd blend of WWF guys and local indies [now why would they be mixing? And how would she know who they were?] Angel almost turned around, but then reasoned that she had nothing better to do and, seeing as how almost all the faces were unfamiliar, she might as well stay.
She sat at the end of the bar and ordered a cosmopolitan [sorry, folks. No winners this time]. She sipped it slowly and observed the throng of people. Men smiled at her. She smiled back. She had boring conversations with several forgettable guys, gave out three fake phone numbers, and switched to diet coke. Just as she was about to head out for the evening, someone leaned up against the bar right next to her.
“Leaving?” he asked.
“Maybe.”
“It’s not time to leave.”
“Why not?”
“You didn’t get to talk to me yet.”
“Man, you’ve got some confidence,” she said, smiling playfully. He didn’t’ respond, but he sat down and ordered a beer, motioning for the bartender to refill Angel’s drink as well.
As he ordered the drinks, Angel stole a quick glance at him. He was definitely a wrestler – with a body that looked cut out of marble. His face was young, smooth, and sharply defined, with sideburns that sloped at steep, marked angles towards his jawline. He was wearing a white shirt and baggy black jeans. And his hair …
“Is your hair purple?”
“Some of it.”
“Ok,” she said, shrugging.
“What’s your story?”
“It’s long and repetitive.” [pfft, she should’ve just given him the url of this blog]
“So let’s make it more fun.”
“That’s a horrible pick-up line.”
He flashed a smile at her. His eyes had a dark shine to them.
“You are incredibly sexy,” he said.
“You are incredibly forward.”
“It comes with the confidence.”
“I don’t date wrestlers,” she told him, turning back to the bar.
“What gave me away? The physique or the charisma?”
“The ego.”
“So we won’t date. We’ll chill.”
“We will?”
“I think so,” he handed her a bar napkin and a pen. She pushed it back towards him and grinned, noting the number sign.
“I just wanted to play tic tac toe. I was even going to let you start.”
“Okay.” She put an O in the center box and pushed it back towards him.
“Only a sucker starts in the middle box.” He put an X in the corner.
“Is that so?” She put an O in the other corner.
“Yep.” The napkin passed between them a few more times before he emerged triumphant. “See?”
“Only a sucker thinks he can impress a lady by beating her at tic tac toe.”
“What’s your name?”
“Angelica Kerris.”
“Pretty name.”
“You are?”
“Jeff Hardy.”
TO BE CONTINUED ...
NOTES:
1) Yeah, a cosmo. I saw a picture of one and thought it was pretty. I also assumed that it tasted good. Blech. Yes, as Oleg pointed out, I am hardly a connoisseur of alcohol. It all tastes nasty to me. If my parents are any indication, this aversion to alcohol has saved me a good deal of money and embarassment over the years. Sorry no one won this round. I've got another one coming up in chapter 61.
2) Jeff Hardy? Yeah, I thought he was pretty hawt back in the day. He looks kinda haggard these days, though, probably because of all those crazy drugs. Plus I heard he got in trouble with the law. I don't think Angel would approve of drugs and lawbreaking, Jeffy.
3) Who loses at tic tac toe? How does any game between two rational adults not end in a tie?
4) I love how Angel completely transforms in this chapter. It's almost as if three entire years have elapsed.
Oooooooookay.
COMING UP NEXT …
Jeff attempts to charm the pants off of Angel. Then one of Angel's Bestest Friends totally harshes on her realm. Hooo boy! Tune in next time for ...
Chapter 55: Reevaluation (Part II)
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Chapter 54: Again
Salutations, all.
Where were we? Ah yes. Courtesy of Violet’s Evil Scheme, Chris bumped into his ex-girlfriend. Courtesy of Justina’s lavender nightie, they instantly started knocking boots. Then Angel and Scott realized that their significant others had slept together and almost had A Moment. Today: Chris talks to people on the phone.
Chapter 54: Again
Chris stared at the phone in his hand. Should he call? Shouldn’t he call? What would she say? What would he say? e looked down at the He looked down at the slip of paper and dialed the numbers.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Foss.”
“Chris?”
“In the flesh … err … on the phone.”
“Dipwad.”
“Lovely.”
“I am.”
“I know.” [oh, the wittiness of this repartee]
“Benoit, we’ve been having the same conversation since we met.”
“Minus 10 years.”
“Doesn’t feel like it.”
“I know. It’s kind of weird.”
“I missed your voice.”
“I did too. What happened to us?”
“Just drifted apart … one of those things. We were kids.”
“We had dreams.”
“We had different dreams.”
“Yeah we did. Looks like they’re overlapping a little now.” Chris laughed.
“I guess so. Some cosmic forces want us together.” [if by cosmic forces you mean an irrationally vindictive psycho with three names, then yes, you are correct]
“Maybe. Look, Foss. Did you tell your boyfriend about us?”
“Yeah. Didn’t take it so well. Did you tell your woman?”
“No. It’s gonna be rough.”
“I ended up dating a wrestler, you know. I guess you got me hooked.” [how? It’s not like he was a wrestler when they were in college]
“I guess so. It must be the muscles.”
“They help.”
“So, who was it?”
“Scott Steiner.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Nope.”
“Holy crap.”
“What?”
“Dude is best friends with my ex.” [oh, so she’s your ex now? Does this mean that you won’t agonize over how you cheated on her? I’m guessing not.]
“Woah. Small freaking world. I guess she must know then.”
Chris was struck silent.
“Christopher?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Hey, Foss, why don’t we meet up later or something? Tomorrow night?”
“Ok. You gonna be all right?”
“Sure. I’ll see you soon.”
Chris hung up the phone. His head swam in circles. What was he going to do? How had his life turned upside down so quickly? Did Angel really know? Only one way to find out. He dialed her number.
“Hello?”
“Angel?”
“Chris.”
“How are you?”
“Fine. You?”
“Oh, you know, hanging in there.”
“Tell me it’s not true, Chris.”
“I can’t.”
“Ok.” Her voice was oddly calm.
“Angel …”
“Don’t. I don’t want to hear any of it. I don’t want to hear a single word of explanation. Not one lurid detail about you and her and what you did. Just leave me alone, Chris. I honestly mean it.”
“Angel …”
“Weren’t you listening to me?” she was shouting now. “I don’t want to talk to you. You’re just like all the rest of them. So go and be with your college sweetheart … go screw each others’ brains out. But don’t you ever, ever speak another word to me.”
With that, she slammed the phone down. Chris threw down the receiver and gritted his teeth.
“Angel … I’m so sorry.” He turned out the lights, sat in the dark, and stared at the ceiling. [how can he sit down and stare at the ceiling? Won’t that hurt his neck? Well, at least he’s not crying. Which is odd, because I think that this is an appropriate crying situation.]
NOTES:
1) Yes, this chapter was pretty much just people talking on the phone. Hey, at least that means no extended descriptions of the night air or, like, Angel’s internal anguish.
OK, folks. So here’s the deal: I took a lengthy break from this in 1996. In that year, I actually developed a social life, which included getting a real boyfriend. So there was actually a three-year gap between this chapter and the next one that I wrote. Yes, I was 19 when I wrote most of the rest of this. And, in the interest of full disclosure, I kept it up throughout college. Yes, some of you knew me personally when I was writing this.
So you might be saying to yourself: “You were a semi-adult when you wrote this? AND an English major? AND the editor of your college literary magazine? Why then surely what follows must be well-written, incisive prose.”
Uhm, no. No it’s not. It’s still crap. You see, even though I was older and “wiser,” I wrote this in pencil in marble notebooks and had no intention of ever showing anybody. This means I never edited it, planned ahead, or worried about the quality of the writing. It might not be as gut-wrenchingly horrific as some of the oldest stuff, but it’s still … unabashedly bad. And I’m going to keep on posting it. Yes, eventually, I will get to the point where I’m fresh out of the old stuff. But never fear; that’ll be quite a while from now. And I’ve got a plan for a fun way to continue past then.
Anyhoo … on to the matter of the next chapter.
Coming up next …
Angel goes to a bar (!) and gets hit on. You know, because she’s so beautiful and all. And at this bar, she has an alcoholic beverage (!)
BUT WHICH BEVERAGE???
That’s right … it’s another Unabashedly Bad Contest. If you can guess what alcoholic beverage our beloved Mary Sue imbibes, you will win a WWF VHS from my personal collection. Leave guesses in the comments section.
See you next time for …
Chapter 55 – Reevaluation
Where were we? Ah yes. Courtesy of Violet’s Evil Scheme, Chris bumped into his ex-girlfriend. Courtesy of Justina’s lavender nightie, they instantly started knocking boots. Then Angel and Scott realized that their significant others had slept together and almost had A Moment. Today: Chris talks to people on the phone.
Chapter 54: Again
Chris stared at the phone in his hand. Should he call? Shouldn’t he call? What would she say? What would he say? e looked down at the He looked down at the slip of paper and dialed the numbers.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Foss.”
“Chris?”
“In the flesh … err … on the phone.”
“Dipwad.”
“Lovely.”
“I am.”
“I know.” [oh, the wittiness of this repartee]
“Benoit, we’ve been having the same conversation since we met.”
“Minus 10 years.”
“Doesn’t feel like it.”
“I know. It’s kind of weird.”
“I missed your voice.”
“I did too. What happened to us?”
“Just drifted apart … one of those things. We were kids.”
“We had dreams.”
“We had different dreams.”
“Yeah we did. Looks like they’re overlapping a little now.” Chris laughed.
“I guess so. Some cosmic forces want us together.” [if by cosmic forces you mean an irrationally vindictive psycho with three names, then yes, you are correct]
“Maybe. Look, Foss. Did you tell your boyfriend about us?”
“Yeah. Didn’t take it so well. Did you tell your woman?”
“No. It’s gonna be rough.”
“I ended up dating a wrestler, you know. I guess you got me hooked.” [how? It’s not like he was a wrestler when they were in college]
“I guess so. It must be the muscles.”
“They help.”
“So, who was it?”
“Scott Steiner.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Nope.”
“Holy crap.”
“What?”
“Dude is best friends with my ex.” [oh, so she’s your ex now? Does this mean that you won’t agonize over how you cheated on her? I’m guessing not.]
“Woah. Small freaking world. I guess she must know then.”
Chris was struck silent.
“Christopher?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Hey, Foss, why don’t we meet up later or something? Tomorrow night?”
“Ok. You gonna be all right?”
“Sure. I’ll see you soon.”
Chris hung up the phone. His head swam in circles. What was he going to do? How had his life turned upside down so quickly? Did Angel really know? Only one way to find out. He dialed her number.
“Hello?”
“Angel?”
“Chris.”
“How are you?”
“Fine. You?”
“Oh, you know, hanging in there.”
“Tell me it’s not true, Chris.”
“I can’t.”
“Ok.” Her voice was oddly calm.
“Angel …”
“Don’t. I don’t want to hear any of it. I don’t want to hear a single word of explanation. Not one lurid detail about you and her and what you did. Just leave me alone, Chris. I honestly mean it.”
“Angel …”
“Weren’t you listening to me?” she was shouting now. “I don’t want to talk to you. You’re just like all the rest of them. So go and be with your college sweetheart … go screw each others’ brains out. But don’t you ever, ever speak another word to me.”
With that, she slammed the phone down. Chris threw down the receiver and gritted his teeth.
“Angel … I’m so sorry.” He turned out the lights, sat in the dark, and stared at the ceiling. [how can he sit down and stare at the ceiling? Won’t that hurt his neck? Well, at least he’s not crying. Which is odd, because I think that this is an appropriate crying situation.]
NOTES:
1) Yes, this chapter was pretty much just people talking on the phone. Hey, at least that means no extended descriptions of the night air or, like, Angel’s internal anguish.
OK, folks. So here’s the deal: I took a lengthy break from this in 1996. In that year, I actually developed a social life, which included getting a real boyfriend. So there was actually a three-year gap between this chapter and the next one that I wrote. Yes, I was 19 when I wrote most of the rest of this. And, in the interest of full disclosure, I kept it up throughout college. Yes, some of you knew me personally when I was writing this.
So you might be saying to yourself: “You were a semi-adult when you wrote this? AND an English major? AND the editor of your college literary magazine? Why then surely what follows must be well-written, incisive prose.”
Uhm, no. No it’s not. It’s still crap. You see, even though I was older and “wiser,” I wrote this in pencil in marble notebooks and had no intention of ever showing anybody. This means I never edited it, planned ahead, or worried about the quality of the writing. It might not be as gut-wrenchingly horrific as some of the oldest stuff, but it’s still … unabashedly bad. And I’m going to keep on posting it. Yes, eventually, I will get to the point where I’m fresh out of the old stuff. But never fear; that’ll be quite a while from now. And I’ve got a plan for a fun way to continue past then.
Anyhoo … on to the matter of the next chapter.
Coming up next …
Angel goes to a bar (!) and gets hit on. You know, because she’s so beautiful and all. And at this bar, she has an alcoholic beverage (!)
BUT WHICH BEVERAGE???
That’s right … it’s another Unabashedly Bad Contest. If you can guess what alcoholic beverage our beloved Mary Sue imbibes, you will win a WWF VHS from my personal collection. Leave guesses in the comments section.
See you next time for …
Chapter 55 – Reevaluation
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Chapter 53: Company
Salutations, readers. If you enjoy playing drinking games while reading this, then I hereby suggest the following:
every time you see ellipses: take a drink
every time either Angel or Scott says the other one's name for no apparant reason: take a drink
every time Scott says "Dammit" : take a drink
every time Angel refers to Chris as "my Chris": take a drink
egregious crying: take a drink
tandem egregious crying: finish the bottle
You might not want to play this game with anything stronger than club soda. Otherwise you'll probably end up in the hospital.
Enjoy!
Chapter 53 – Company
“Dammit, Angel. Dammit, Dammit!”
“Scott, calm down, okay?” There was little she could do. Scott was, after all, a professional wrestler [and she just a helpless woman]. She put her small hands on his massive back [oh wow].
“Destroying your apartment won’t help.”
He ignored her and toppled a potted plant. [I’ve heard that Mario Batali does the same thing when he’s drunk. My brother-in-law works at a hotel where Mario stayed. No potted plant was safe.]
“Sit down, Scott.”
He complied for a second, then stood again. Angel folded her hands over his and pleaded with him to return to the couch.
“Scott, Scott. Tell me. Sit down and tell me.”
“Dammit, Angel.” His voice was much softer this time. He sank into the couch, head in hands. [could it be? Could it really be? The return of egregious crying?!?]
“What is it?”
“She cheated on me. She slept with her ex-boyfriend.”
“Justina? How did you find out?”
“She told me, Angel. Dammit, Angel. I thought … I mean I really thought she was … God.” [you thought she was God?]
Angel rested her cheek on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry. When did she tell you?”
“This morning.” His face was still buried in his hands. “She said she just ran into her old college sweetheart in the hotel and then one thing led to the other … Angel, how does that happen?”
“I don’t know.”
“They slept together! You don’t just run into somebody and … Dammit.”
“Maybe they just caught up in …”
“There are no excuses Angel. It happened. That Canadian whore.”
Angel giggled. “Sorry. Amusing epithet. I’ve got my own problems with Canadians these days.” She squoze Scott’s shoulder and smiled. Suddenly, an idean fringed her insides with ice. “Scott?”
“Yeah.”
“What, um, what did you say Justina’s last name was?”
“Foster. Justina Foster. Why?”
“And … what college did she go to, if you know?” Angel’s fingers shook.
“Edmonton. Freaking Canadians.”
“Oh no.”
“What?”
Angel’s chest fell into itself. She froze.
“Angel?” Scott forgot his rage as he watched his friend’s face bleed dry of color. Her lips were parted but no sounds escaped them. He shook her gently. “Angel?” Less gently.
“Chris,” she whispered.
“What?”
“She slept with my Chris.”
“No. No. What would make you think something like that?”
“That’s where I heard that name before. Justina Foster,” she spat the words. “She and Chris.” [way to jump to conclusions there, Angel. You assume that she only had ONE boyfriend throughout all four years of college??]
“Angel …” Scott clasped her hand.
“My Chris.”
“Angel …”
“God. Scott.” She broke down into sobs. [about freaking time!] Scott pressed her to his shoulder. He had no words. [finally]
“Shh.”
“My Chris. Scott … Scott …” [there’s some compelling dialogue if I ever read any.]
“Just cry, Angel. Can’t do much else.” [except knock over potted plants, apparently.]
He held her until he began to cry too. [woooo!!!] Then they held each other. [how is this physically different?] The night fell around them.
“What do we do, Scott?”
“I don’t know.”
“My Chris …” [uhm, you guys were technically broken up].
“When’s the last time you spoke with him?”
“Couple days. My Chris. Scott … I was saving myself for him. Just him.” [except you didn’t want to marry him?]
“Angel …”
“Scott, I was ready. I was going to tell him that I was ready … for him.” [WOAH. When did you arrive at this decision? You sure are good at keeping secrets. Especially from the readers].
`Shh …”
“I thought he understood. I thought he could wait … What’s wrong with me?” [oh, where does one begin?]
“Angel,” he pushed her hair behind her ears. “Angel look at me. There is nothing wrong with either you or me. We are wonderful, intelligent [snerk], attractive people.”
“Sure. Why don’t …”
“Shh. Just listen. You are one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever met in my life.”
“Scott …”
“No, Angel. I mean it. You are gorgeous. I’ve always thought so. From the first time we met at Sting’s party. Angel …” He cupped her chin in his hands and looked into her eyes. “Angel,”
“Scott, don’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Tell me I’m beautiful now.”
“Why?”
“It’s too easy for us.”
“What do you mean?”
“Too easy for us to try to make ourselves better by … giving in.”
“Giving in to what?”
“Jealously, hurt, and …”
“And …?”
“An undeniable mutual attraction.” [where did THAT come from?]
“Angel. I’m not trying to take advantage of you.” He stroked her hair.
“I know that Scott. I’m not accusing you of that. But I know how broken we both are. And I know how badly we … at least I … am fighting the urge to …”
“To?”
“To … do what … we …” She looked away. Her hands trembled
Scott cupped her chin in his hands again.
“No,” Angel said, pulling away. “This is wrong. It’s all wrong. We can’t.”
“You’re right. You’re right.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Dammit, Angel. Why us? Why do we have the worst relationship luck on the whole planet?” [maybe it’s not luck so much as the fact that you’re both seriously screwed up]
“I dunno, Scott. Just lucky I guess.”
“Lucky,” Scott said sourly. “Lucky. Justina and Chris should be so lucky. Angel, when I see him, I’m going to bash his pointy face in .”
“Scott …”
“Yeah, yeah. I won’t. I’m going home, Angel. [uhm … aren’t you in your apartment already?] Take care of yourself.”
“You too, Scott. I’ll be in touch.”
NOTES:
1) Scangel? Gross. But maybe they deserve each other? Still. Gross.
2) Hey, everyone … just in case you didn’t know: Angel is the most beautifullest girl on the planet. EVER. No man can resist her charms.
3) WTF was up with all of shocking left-field revelations in this chapter? And the sudden violent streak emerging in Scott? Oh, whatever.
COMING UP NEXT
Angel confronts Chris. Sort of. Well ... it’s slightly more confrontational than her confrontation with Marcus. It's pretty dang nonconfrontational as far as confrontations go.
See you then for ...
Chapter 54 - Again
every time you see ellipses: take a drink
every time either Angel or Scott says the other one's name for no apparant reason: take a drink
every time Scott says "Dammit" : take a drink
every time Angel refers to Chris as "my Chris": take a drink
egregious crying: take a drink
tandem egregious crying: finish the bottle
You might not want to play this game with anything stronger than club soda. Otherwise you'll probably end up in the hospital.
Enjoy!
Chapter 53 – Company
“Dammit, Angel. Dammit, Dammit!”
“Scott, calm down, okay?” There was little she could do. Scott was, after all, a professional wrestler [and she just a helpless woman]. She put her small hands on his massive back [oh wow].
“Destroying your apartment won’t help.”
He ignored her and toppled a potted plant. [I’ve heard that Mario Batali does the same thing when he’s drunk. My brother-in-law works at a hotel where Mario stayed. No potted plant was safe.]
“Sit down, Scott.”
He complied for a second, then stood again. Angel folded her hands over his and pleaded with him to return to the couch.
“Scott, Scott. Tell me. Sit down and tell me.”
“Dammit, Angel.” His voice was much softer this time. He sank into the couch, head in hands. [could it be? Could it really be? The return of egregious crying?!?]
“What is it?”
“She cheated on me. She slept with her ex-boyfriend.”
“Justina? How did you find out?”
“She told me, Angel. Dammit, Angel. I thought … I mean I really thought she was … God.” [you thought she was God?]
Angel rested her cheek on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry. When did she tell you?”
“This morning.” His face was still buried in his hands. “She said she just ran into her old college sweetheart in the hotel and then one thing led to the other … Angel, how does that happen?”
“I don’t know.”
“They slept together! You don’t just run into somebody and … Dammit.”
“Maybe they just caught up in …”
“There are no excuses Angel. It happened. That Canadian whore.”
Angel giggled. “Sorry. Amusing epithet. I’ve got my own problems with Canadians these days.” She squoze Scott’s shoulder and smiled. Suddenly, an idean fringed her insides with ice. “Scott?”
“Yeah.”
“What, um, what did you say Justina’s last name was?”
“Foster. Justina Foster. Why?”
“And … what college did she go to, if you know?” Angel’s fingers shook.
“Edmonton. Freaking Canadians.”
“Oh no.”
“What?”
Angel’s chest fell into itself. She froze.
“Angel?” Scott forgot his rage as he watched his friend’s face bleed dry of color. Her lips were parted but no sounds escaped them. He shook her gently. “Angel?” Less gently.
“Chris,” she whispered.
“What?”
“She slept with my Chris.”
“No. No. What would make you think something like that?”
“That’s where I heard that name before. Justina Foster,” she spat the words. “She and Chris.” [way to jump to conclusions there, Angel. You assume that she only had ONE boyfriend throughout all four years of college??]
“Angel …” Scott clasped her hand.
“My Chris.”
“Angel …”
“God. Scott.” She broke down into sobs. [about freaking time!] Scott pressed her to his shoulder. He had no words. [finally]
“Shh.”
“My Chris. Scott … Scott …” [there’s some compelling dialogue if I ever read any.]
“Just cry, Angel. Can’t do much else.” [except knock over potted plants, apparently.]
He held her until he began to cry too. [woooo!!!] Then they held each other. [how is this physically different?] The night fell around them.
“What do we do, Scott?”
“I don’t know.”
“My Chris …” [uhm, you guys were technically broken up].
“When’s the last time you spoke with him?”
“Couple days. My Chris. Scott … I was saving myself for him. Just him.” [except you didn’t want to marry him?]
“Angel …”
“Scott, I was ready. I was going to tell him that I was ready … for him.” [WOAH. When did you arrive at this decision? You sure are good at keeping secrets. Especially from the readers].
`Shh …”
“I thought he understood. I thought he could wait … What’s wrong with me?” [oh, where does one begin?]
“Angel,” he pushed her hair behind her ears. “Angel look at me. There is nothing wrong with either you or me. We are wonderful, intelligent [snerk], attractive people.”
“Sure. Why don’t …”
“Shh. Just listen. You are one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever met in my life.”
“Scott …”
“No, Angel. I mean it. You are gorgeous. I’ve always thought so. From the first time we met at Sting’s party. Angel …” He cupped her chin in his hands and looked into her eyes. “Angel,”
“Scott, don’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Tell me I’m beautiful now.”
“Why?”
“It’s too easy for us.”
“What do you mean?”
“Too easy for us to try to make ourselves better by … giving in.”
“Giving in to what?”
“Jealously, hurt, and …”
“And …?”
“An undeniable mutual attraction.” [where did THAT come from?]
“Angel. I’m not trying to take advantage of you.” He stroked her hair.
“I know that Scott. I’m not accusing you of that. But I know how broken we both are. And I know how badly we … at least I … am fighting the urge to …”
“To?”
“To … do what … we …” She looked away. Her hands trembled
Scott cupped her chin in his hands again.
“No,” Angel said, pulling away. “This is wrong. It’s all wrong. We can’t.”
“You’re right. You’re right.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Dammit, Angel. Why us? Why do we have the worst relationship luck on the whole planet?” [maybe it’s not luck so much as the fact that you’re both seriously screwed up]
“I dunno, Scott. Just lucky I guess.”
“Lucky,” Scott said sourly. “Lucky. Justina and Chris should be so lucky. Angel, when I see him, I’m going to bash his pointy face in .”
“Scott …”
“Yeah, yeah. I won’t. I’m going home, Angel. [uhm … aren’t you in your apartment already?] Take care of yourself.”
“You too, Scott. I’ll be in touch.”
NOTES:
1) Scangel? Gross. But maybe they deserve each other? Still. Gross.
2) Hey, everyone … just in case you didn’t know: Angel is the most beautifullest girl on the planet. EVER. No man can resist her charms.
3) WTF was up with all of shocking left-field revelations in this chapter? And the sudden violent streak emerging in Scott? Oh, whatever.
COMING UP NEXT
Angel confronts Chris. Sort of. Well ... it’s slightly more confrontational than her confrontation with Marcus. It's pretty dang nonconfrontational as far as confrontations go.
See you then for ...
Chapter 54 - Again
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Chapter 52: Reprocussion [sic] Discussion (Part II)
Alright, buds. It’s me again. A day late again. Many apologies. I continue to blame work. Actually, it’s not so much my job per se as it the ridiculousness of the academic job market. It’s BAD out there, my friends. BAD. Almost as bad as …
Chapter 52: Reprocussion [sic] Discussion (part II)
They shared an English Lit class in their Freshman years at Edmonton University. He perfectly recalled the first day he had caught eyes with her:
She was wearing an Edmonton Oilers tee-shirt and giant neon green bangles on her wrists. Her spirals of copper hair exploded from her head in a myriad of directions.
“Is this English Literature 101?” She had asked him, staring down at a crumpled schedule.
Chris: long-haired, sort of gawky, decked out in a Black Sabbath shirt [uhm, was his Frankie Valli shirt in the wash?] and black boots, mumbled: “I think so.”
They sat next to each other as Professor Cavanaugh entered the room. Without missing a breath, he delved right into a speech. “First of all, I loathe wasting time. I also loathe tardiness. The first portion of literature we will be studying is a portion of the works from the Shelley portion of our Anthology.”
From that day on, Justina and Chris kept a daily tally on how many times Professor Cavanaugh said “portion” in a class. They would fight to stifle giggles and kick each other under the desk. A smile stretched across Chris’ face when he thought of the day of their first big exam. Upon reading the first question, “In which portion of the play Macbeth does the first portion of blood imagery come into play,” they had both burst into uncontrollable laughter. They then sat through a lengthy lecture (containing 31 “portions”) and were given one more chance to shape up before failing the semester. [for laughing during a test? Dang]
He recalled their first “date.” He invited her to watch the Oilers game with him in the commons [sic] room. They laughed over every stupid commercial—Chris was astounded that someone else found Mr. Whipple as amusing as he. He walked her back to her dorm and they turned towards each other in the doorway. There was no awkwardness in this moment. The night surrounded them in an inky fluid. The moon caught her face in a soft, luscious light. She smiled up at him and he brought her lips [sic] down on to hers gently. She touched the back of his neck lightly and then pulled back.
“The dating portion was fun, Chris, and the kissing portion was fantastic, but we both need to study before we fail the English 101 portion of our college years.”
He looked at her and grinned. “No, cousin. I’ll to Fife.”
“What?”
“Well, Shakespeare is romantic, and that’s the only line I can remember.” [actually, this is a remarkably accurate depiction of the way most freshmen think of Shakespeare. That’s because they read Romeo and Juliet, which does not contain cannibalism, infanticide, gang rape, and mutilation. That’s Titus Andronicus. You don't read that in high school. For good reason.]
“I think you need to study more than I do. Goodnight, Christopher. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He saw her tomorrow. He saw her the next day. He saw her every day for the next four years. And then they separated with promises to stay faithful. But time had watered down their bonds – she moved to Michigan, he began his wrestling career.
And here they were now.
“Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“What ya thinking about?”
“Everything. This is so weird, Justina.”
“I know. But it was great.”
“Yeah.”
“Chris? I have a boyfriend.”
“Oh. I have … uh … an Angel.” [oh, gross]
“What?”
“Nevermind.”
“Did that really just happen?”
“I’d ask you to pinch me, but if you did, it’d probably happen again.”
She giggled. He put his socks on. [where is he going? What time is it?]
“I have to go to work, Foss.”
“Me too.”
“We’ll talk later.”
“I’m sure.”
She pinched him anyway. Just in case.
NOTES:
1) Look, folks, I’m going to out myself as a college English teacher here. Because I simply must express my incredulity: How are Shelley and Macbeth being taught in the same course? That’s one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever written.
2) I had a biology teacher who comically overused the word “portion.” I always counted. Her record was 89 “portions” in one class. It was amazing.
3) I had an English teacher who repeated the line “No cousin. I’ll to Fife” incessantly. It supposedly demonstrated Macduff’s integrity. I’m playing it for “comedy” here, of course. Apologies to the Bard.
4) Where was the "discussion" of the "reprocussions" [sic]? I guess it was more important to flex my writing muscles by overwrought descriptions of the magical night.
And alas, the answer was Mr. Whipple. No contest winners this round. But another one is coming up in chapter 55!
COMING UP NEXT:
Scott and Angel have a chat. And unlike all of their previous chats, important information is actually exchanged. And there are meltdowns. But, seeing as how Scott and Angel are involved, they are dumb meltdowns.
Tune in next time for …
Chapter 53: Company
Chapter 52: Reprocussion [sic] Discussion (part II)
They shared an English Lit class in their Freshman years at Edmonton University. He perfectly recalled the first day he had caught eyes with her:
She was wearing an Edmonton Oilers tee-shirt and giant neon green bangles on her wrists. Her spirals of copper hair exploded from her head in a myriad of directions.
“Is this English Literature 101?” She had asked him, staring down at a crumpled schedule.
Chris: long-haired, sort of gawky, decked out in a Black Sabbath shirt [uhm, was his Frankie Valli shirt in the wash?] and black boots, mumbled: “I think so.”
They sat next to each other as Professor Cavanaugh entered the room. Without missing a breath, he delved right into a speech. “First of all, I loathe wasting time. I also loathe tardiness. The first portion of literature we will be studying is a portion of the works from the Shelley portion of our Anthology.”
From that day on, Justina and Chris kept a daily tally on how many times Professor Cavanaugh said “portion” in a class. They would fight to stifle giggles and kick each other under the desk. A smile stretched across Chris’ face when he thought of the day of their first big exam. Upon reading the first question, “In which portion of the play Macbeth does the first portion of blood imagery come into play,” they had both burst into uncontrollable laughter. They then sat through a lengthy lecture (containing 31 “portions”) and were given one more chance to shape up before failing the semester. [for laughing during a test? Dang]
He recalled their first “date.” He invited her to watch the Oilers game with him in the commons [sic] room. They laughed over every stupid commercial—Chris was astounded that someone else found Mr. Whipple as amusing as he. He walked her back to her dorm and they turned towards each other in the doorway. There was no awkwardness in this moment. The night surrounded them in an inky fluid. The moon caught her face in a soft, luscious light. She smiled up at him and he brought her lips [sic] down on to hers gently. She touched the back of his neck lightly and then pulled back.
“The dating portion was fun, Chris, and the kissing portion was fantastic, but we both need to study before we fail the English 101 portion of our college years.”
He looked at her and grinned. “No, cousin. I’ll to Fife.”
“What?”
“Well, Shakespeare is romantic, and that’s the only line I can remember.” [actually, this is a remarkably accurate depiction of the way most freshmen think of Shakespeare. That’s because they read Romeo and Juliet, which does not contain cannibalism, infanticide, gang rape, and mutilation. That’s Titus Andronicus. You don't read that in high school. For good reason.]
“I think you need to study more than I do. Goodnight, Christopher. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He saw her tomorrow. He saw her the next day. He saw her every day for the next four years. And then they separated with promises to stay faithful. But time had watered down their bonds – she moved to Michigan, he began his wrestling career.
And here they were now.
“Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“What ya thinking about?”
“Everything. This is so weird, Justina.”
“I know. But it was great.”
“Yeah.”
“Chris? I have a boyfriend.”
“Oh. I have … uh … an Angel.” [oh, gross]
“What?”
“Nevermind.”
“Did that really just happen?”
“I’d ask you to pinch me, but if you did, it’d probably happen again.”
She giggled. He put his socks on. [where is he going? What time is it?]
“I have to go to work, Foss.”
“Me too.”
“We’ll talk later.”
“I’m sure.”
She pinched him anyway. Just in case.
NOTES:
1) Look, folks, I’m going to out myself as a college English teacher here. Because I simply must express my incredulity: How are Shelley and Macbeth being taught in the same course? That’s one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever written.
2) I had a biology teacher who comically overused the word “portion.” I always counted. Her record was 89 “portions” in one class. It was amazing.
3) I had an English teacher who repeated the line “No cousin. I’ll to Fife” incessantly. It supposedly demonstrated Macduff’s integrity. I’m playing it for “comedy” here, of course. Apologies to the Bard.
4) Where was the "discussion" of the "reprocussions" [sic]? I guess it was more important to flex my writing muscles by overwrought descriptions of the magical night.
And alas, the answer was Mr. Whipple. No contest winners this round. But another one is coming up in chapter 55!
COMING UP NEXT:
Scott and Angel have a chat. And unlike all of their previous chats, important information is actually exchanged. And there are meltdowns. But, seeing as how Scott and Angel are involved, they are dumb meltdowns.
Tune in next time for …
Chapter 53: Company
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Chapter 52: Reprocussion [sic] Discussion (Part I)
Sorry, sorry, sorry for the delay, ladies and gents. Busy with junk and stuff. Hope the marvelous stupidity of Chris' inner monologue in this chapter will make up for the lateness.
Enjoy!
Chapter 52: Reprocussion [sic] Discussion (Part I)
Justina cuddled closer to Chris and smiled. He ran his fingers through her curls and kissed her head.
“That was …”
“Phenomenal,” he finished.
“Mmm.”
“But … back to reality. What are you doing in my hotel room, Foss?”
“Your hotel room? This is my hotel room.” [cue the wacky hijinx music]
“How? This wing is for WCW employees.” [they have their own wing now? Oh, whatever.]
“Your point being ...?”
“What, you got a job here?”
“You betcha. And Felicia Baigen showed me to this room.”
“Who?”
“I think she’s like some executive assistant or something. She’s got all of the paperwork and reservation thingies if you don’t believe me.”
“Course I believe you. Guess there was just a mix up. So what’re you doing here? Seamstress?”
“Tailor,” she corrected. [ah yes. That sounds much more believable.]
“Ah.” He turned his head and looked at her, eyes flashing.
“I know that twinkle.”
“Do you?” He grinned.
“Don’t you ever run out of energy?”
“Not with someone like you. Just watching you blink is sexy.”
She fluttered here eyelids in response.
“Oh baby.”
Hours later [hours? Dang.], Justina’s red head settled into the crook of his elbow as she slept peacefully [wait, what time is it anyway?]. Chris’ temporary brain fog had dissolved. Reality bit into him like a gust of winter. This woman lying next to him was not Angel. [duh. You just had sex with her. Wasn’t that clue #1?] He had just spent the last six hours releasing all his sexual frustration [eew?] on someone who was not Angel [hence the frustration, no?]. It was not their long-awaited wedding night; it was a week after he had dumped her. And this woman was not Angel. Chris closed his eyes and tried to convince himself otherwise. He was at Angel’s hosue and they had fallen asleep watching TV [naked?]. What had they been watching? The Pelican Brief. But it had gotten boring and … oh, to hell with it. It was no use. He could not pretend that the floor to the left of the bed wasn’t littered with their clothes, that the sheets weren’t tangled around his ankles, or that the woman next to him wasn’t anyone but Angel. [wait, did that last part make sense?]
How could this have happened? He hadn’t seen Justina in 10 years. How could he have had sex with her 10 minutes after meeting her again [maybe it was the lavender negligee]. Where had been his self-control? The truth was, he hadn’t even thought for a second about Angel [congratulations, Chris. Congratulations]. Maybe what had just happened was a sign of some sort. Maybe it was time to move on.
Chris heaved a sigh and closed his eyes. He was in a mess. He felt like he had cheated on Angel and they weren’t even technically still going out. Well … she had kissed Dustin Rhodes. But Chris had done much more than just kiss Justina. Should he tell Angel? Did it even matter? It would kill her.
This week without her had been torture for Chris. Was he just using Justina to escape his troubles? What did he feel for her? He had truly loved her in College, but what about now? [uhm, you just ran into her six hours ago. Chill.] Maybe she was a totally different person. He had changed quite a bit. He remembered the way they had been. They shared an English Lit class in their Freshman years at Edmonton University. He perfectly recalled the first day he had caught eyes with her ...
NOTES:
1) I swear I wrote this long before the “we were on a break” Ross and Rachel drama that ate Friends.
2) That’s nice. So women can either be nurses, airheads, vindictive bitches, or seamstresses. Excuse me … tailors.
COMING UP NEXT:
Chris waxes nostalgic about his relationship with Justina. I try to be a Serious Author by using Extensive Descriptions of, like, the moon and stuff. And I mention a beloved television commercial icon from the 80's. BUT WHICH ONE? That's right, folks. It's another UNABASHEDLY BAD CONTEST. The prize: a wrestling VHS from my personal collection. You know you want one. Leave your guesses in the comments section! And join us next week for ...
Chapter 52: Reprocussion [sic] Discussion (Part I)
Enjoy!
Chapter 52: Reprocussion [sic] Discussion (Part I)
Justina cuddled closer to Chris and smiled. He ran his fingers through her curls and kissed her head.
“That was …”
“Phenomenal,” he finished.
“Mmm.”
“But … back to reality. What are you doing in my hotel room, Foss?”
“Your hotel room? This is my hotel room.” [cue the wacky hijinx music]
“How? This wing is for WCW employees.” [they have their own wing now? Oh, whatever.]
“Your point being ...?”
“What, you got a job here?”
“You betcha. And Felicia Baigen showed me to this room.”
“Who?”
“I think she’s like some executive assistant or something. She’s got all of the paperwork and reservation thingies if you don’t believe me.”
“Course I believe you. Guess there was just a mix up. So what’re you doing here? Seamstress?”
“Tailor,” she corrected. [ah yes. That sounds much more believable.]
“Ah.” He turned his head and looked at her, eyes flashing.
“I know that twinkle.”
“Do you?” He grinned.
“Don’t you ever run out of energy?”
“Not with someone like you. Just watching you blink is sexy.”
She fluttered here eyelids in response.
“Oh baby.”
Hours later [hours? Dang.], Justina’s red head settled into the crook of his elbow as she slept peacefully [wait, what time is it anyway?]. Chris’ temporary brain fog had dissolved. Reality bit into him like a gust of winter. This woman lying next to him was not Angel. [duh. You just had sex with her. Wasn’t that clue #1?] He had just spent the last six hours releasing all his sexual frustration [eew?] on someone who was not Angel [hence the frustration, no?]. It was not their long-awaited wedding night; it was a week after he had dumped her. And this woman was not Angel. Chris closed his eyes and tried to convince himself otherwise. He was at Angel’s hosue and they had fallen asleep watching TV [naked?]. What had they been watching? The Pelican Brief. But it had gotten boring and … oh, to hell with it. It was no use. He could not pretend that the floor to the left of the bed wasn’t littered with their clothes, that the sheets weren’t tangled around his ankles, or that the woman next to him wasn’t anyone but Angel. [wait, did that last part make sense?]
How could this have happened? He hadn’t seen Justina in 10 years. How could he have had sex with her 10 minutes after meeting her again [maybe it was the lavender negligee]. Where had been his self-control? The truth was, he hadn’t even thought for a second about Angel [congratulations, Chris. Congratulations]. Maybe what had just happened was a sign of some sort. Maybe it was time to move on.
Chris heaved a sigh and closed his eyes. He was in a mess. He felt like he had cheated on Angel and they weren’t even technically still going out. Well … she had kissed Dustin Rhodes. But Chris had done much more than just kiss Justina. Should he tell Angel? Did it even matter? It would kill her.
This week without her had been torture for Chris. Was he just using Justina to escape his troubles? What did he feel for her? He had truly loved her in College, but what about now? [uhm, you just ran into her six hours ago. Chill.] Maybe she was a totally different person. He had changed quite a bit. He remembered the way they had been. They shared an English Lit class in their Freshman years at Edmonton University. He perfectly recalled the first day he had caught eyes with her ...
NOTES:
1) I swear I wrote this long before the “we were on a break” Ross and Rachel drama that ate Friends.
2) That’s nice. So women can either be nurses, airheads, vindictive bitches, or seamstresses. Excuse me … tailors.
COMING UP NEXT:
Chris waxes nostalgic about his relationship with Justina. I try to be a Serious Author by using Extensive Descriptions of, like, the moon and stuff. And I mention a beloved television commercial icon from the 80's. BUT WHICH ONE? That's right, folks. It's another UNABASHEDLY BAD CONTEST. The prize: a wrestling VHS from my personal collection. You know you want one. Leave your guesses in the comments section! And join us next week for ...
Chapter 52: Reprocussion [sic] Discussion (Part I)
Monday, August 31, 2009
Chapter 51: In the Dark
Chapter 51: In the Dark
The phone rang, jarring Angel from a sleep she had entered with great difficulty.
“Hello,” she rasped.
“Ang? Sorry, did I wake you up?”
“Sorta. What’s up, Scott?”
“Not much – what are you doing asleep?” [what kind of a question is that?]
“What are you doing awake? It’s … oh, it’s only 9:30, sorry.”
“Are you sick?”
“No, no.”
“Then what? You sound distressed.”
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s Chris.” [you remember that she has a boyfriend? And that this boyfriend has a name? how novel!]
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“It’s such a long story.”
“I have a while.”
“You’re sure you want to hear this?” [why isn’t she asking this of the readers?]
“Of course.”
“Okay.” Angel told him the entire story, from her kiss with Dustin to their pact to say away from each other for a few weeks. [her and Dustin’s pact? Of course not. Why would Angel and Dustin try to stay away from each other when instead they can be having sock-optional sleepovers?]
“That’s rough, Ang. I’m sorry.”
“Could be worse,” she sighed. [hey! Irony! Look how unsubtle!]
“Don’t worry. You two were made for each other. It’ll be okay.” [AngelSense™]
“I hope so. So what’s new with you, Scott?”
“I’m in love!” he nearly shouted. [that’s nice. That’s exactly what you say to someone who is having relationship troubles bad enough to alter her sleeping patterns.]
“That’s fabulous! Is it that woman you told me about before? What was her name … Justine?”
“Justina, and yes, she puts Marie in the dust.”
“Great! I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks. Anyway, I just called to tell you that she got a job at WCW with you, so maybe you can see her around.”
“Ooh! We can gossip about you!”
“Uh-oh. I’d better look out.”
Angel giggled. “What’s her last name?”
“Foster. She’s soooo beautiful.” [I can’t believe he didn’t offer up this information, as well as her hair and eye color, the second Angel picked up the phone.]
Foster … Justina Foster … Angel thought and thought but she couldn’t remember where she’d heard that name before.
“Can’t wait to meet her. Scott, nothing personal, but I’m dead tired.”
“Oh. Ok. Sorry to wake you.”
“That’s allright. I’ll see you soon.”
They said their goodbyes and hung up. Scott nearly bouncing off the walls with joy, Angel trying to dispel that nagging feeling she had that something was terribly out of kilter.
NOTES:
1) How can Angel not remember Justina’s name? Don’t you pay a lot of attention to your significant others when they discuss exes? Because that’s interesting stuff and it gives you all kinds of insight into their personalities and whatnot. And then you gladly accept the invitation your partner gives you to look at old pictures from college and you scrutinize the photos of him and his old girlfriends to make sure that you are prettier. Or maybe that’s just me. Wait, where was I? Ah yes. Justina. Well, let’s just chalk this one up to plot contrivance.
2) I would actually like to see Angel and Justina gossiping about Scott. I wonder how long it would take before Justina asked Angel if Scott has always had such a bizarre relationship with his brother and such confusing sexual mores, to which Angel would reply: “What are you talking about? Let’s get back to me here.”
COMING UP NEXT …
Justina and Chris stave off guilt by having at it once more, then Chris takes a trip down memory lane. See what I thought people did in college years before I actually went there. It’s a long chapter, so I think I’m going to split it up. The second part will feature a contest! Wheee!
Tune in next week for … Chapter 52: Reprocussion [sic] Discussion (Part I)
The phone rang, jarring Angel from a sleep she had entered with great difficulty.
“Hello,” she rasped.
“Ang? Sorry, did I wake you up?”
“Sorta. What’s up, Scott?”
“Not much – what are you doing asleep?” [what kind of a question is that?]
“What are you doing awake? It’s … oh, it’s only 9:30, sorry.”
“Are you sick?”
“No, no.”
“Then what? You sound distressed.”
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s Chris.” [you remember that she has a boyfriend? And that this boyfriend has a name? how novel!]
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“It’s such a long story.”
“I have a while.”
“You’re sure you want to hear this?” [why isn’t she asking this of the readers?]
“Of course.”
“Okay.” Angel told him the entire story, from her kiss with Dustin to their pact to say away from each other for a few weeks. [her and Dustin’s pact? Of course not. Why would Angel and Dustin try to stay away from each other when instead they can be having sock-optional sleepovers?]
“That’s rough, Ang. I’m sorry.”
“Could be worse,” she sighed. [hey! Irony! Look how unsubtle!]
“Don’t worry. You two were made for each other. It’ll be okay.” [AngelSense™]
“I hope so. So what’s new with you, Scott?”
“I’m in love!” he nearly shouted. [that’s nice. That’s exactly what you say to someone who is having relationship troubles bad enough to alter her sleeping patterns.]
“That’s fabulous! Is it that woman you told me about before? What was her name … Justine?”
“Justina, and yes, she puts Marie in the dust.”
“Great! I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks. Anyway, I just called to tell you that she got a job at WCW with you, so maybe you can see her around.”
“Ooh! We can gossip about you!”
“Uh-oh. I’d better look out.”
Angel giggled. “What’s her last name?”
“Foster. She’s soooo beautiful.” [I can’t believe he didn’t offer up this information, as well as her hair and eye color, the second Angel picked up the phone.]
Foster … Justina Foster … Angel thought and thought but she couldn’t remember where she’d heard that name before.
“Can’t wait to meet her. Scott, nothing personal, but I’m dead tired.”
“Oh. Ok. Sorry to wake you.”
“That’s allright. I’ll see you soon.”
They said their goodbyes and hung up. Scott nearly bouncing off the walls with joy, Angel trying to dispel that nagging feeling she had that something was terribly out of kilter.
NOTES:
1) How can Angel not remember Justina’s name? Don’t you pay a lot of attention to your significant others when they discuss exes? Because that’s interesting stuff and it gives you all kinds of insight into their personalities and whatnot. And then you gladly accept the invitation your partner gives you to look at old pictures from college and you scrutinize the photos of him and his old girlfriends to make sure that you are prettier. Or maybe that’s just me. Wait, where was I? Ah yes. Justina. Well, let’s just chalk this one up to plot contrivance.
2) I would actually like to see Angel and Justina gossiping about Scott. I wonder how long it would take before Justina asked Angel if Scott has always had such a bizarre relationship with his brother and such confusing sexual mores, to which Angel would reply: “What are you talking about? Let’s get back to me here.”
COMING UP NEXT …
Justina and Chris stave off guilt by having at it once more, then Chris takes a trip down memory lane. See what I thought people did in college years before I actually went there. It’s a long chapter, so I think I’m going to split it up. The second part will feature a contest! Wheee!
Tune in next week for … Chapter 52: Reprocussion [sic] Discussion (Part I)
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Chapter 50: Mate
Sorry this one is a day late, folks. I got super busy over here. This time of year is a little hectic at my job and it's probably not going to quiet down until Christmas. But that most assuredly will not stop me from festooning you with this drivel.
So ... last week, Justina took a shower and put on two different outfits before going to bed. Chris walked into his hotel room and discovered Justina standing there in one of those two outfits. GASP. Today: cue the bow chicka wow wows.
Chapter 50: Mate
The present melted away from Chris's conscious mind and the past flooded in.
It was 1986. Chris was in his second year of college at Edmonton University. Memories flashed at him in bits and pieces [is this a flashback within a flashback?]. The way her hair always smelled. The tiny birthmark that looked just like a seahorse on her stomach. Her perfect impression of Professor Cavanaugh. The way she said his name. The warm, passionate, excited sparkles in her hazel eyes when she informed him that this would be The Night [hey now! Where did that come from?!?] How smooth her cheeks were, how firm her lips were, how soft her skin was, the way she could so easily drive him up the wall by kissing his neck, the sweetness of her voice every time she told him she loved him. Her strange obsession with rabbits [huh?]. Everything they had been through ran through his mind in a half-second.
“My God,” she whispered, feeling the same wave of memories wash over her.
“Tina? Foss?”
“You remember my nicknames?” [they’re not exactly far from your actual name, lady]
“Do bunnies hop?” [oh wow]
“Oh, Chris!”
They ran toward each other and embraced.
“Been too long, Foss.”
“Your biceps got bigger.”
“That’s not the only thing.” [oh WOW.]
“Your mind?”
“Noooo.”
“Hmm, say, what is that in your pocket.” [I didn’t. Oh, I did.]
“Nothing. I’m just happy to see you.”
“Same old conversation. You haven’t forgotten?” she asked as they drew apart.
“Forget? It’s only been what … ten years?”
“Damn. Oh, Christopher. I’ve thought about you so much.”
“Me too, Foss. You look as stunning as ever.” [especially seeing as how she’s wearing a lavender negligee. Why isn’t she frantically trying to put on pants? Shoot, if I ran into an old college boyfriend like this I’d be … well, in the case of 90% of them, I’d be trying to find an object to use as a bludgeoning instrument … but for the other 10%, I’d be frantically searching for pants.]
“Flattery got you everywhere.”
“I’d like to think it was more than flattery.”
“Mmm … maybe.”
“You’re still using the same shampoo.”
“I swear by it.”
“I remember.”
“What else do you remember?”
“Everything.”
“Like what?”
“Well … I remember how gorgeous you were.”
“Were!?!”
“And still are, Tina dear.”
“You look good enough to eat, my little love-rabbit.” [oh WOW. I haven’t been this embarrassed by my own writing for several chapters now. This is painful.]
“Really?”
“Really. Hmmm …”
“What?”
“I wonder … do you still have that one tickle spot?”
“Uhh … no.”
“I think I’ll have to test for myself.” Justina removed her hands from his and moved them slowly to both of his sides. Before he could push them away, she began working her fingers underneath his ribcage until his chuckles gave way to giggles, which gave way to peals of laughter.
“Stop! Please!” He begged, trying to gulp air.
“Do you admit the unrelenting superiority of the Edmonton Oilers over the Bruins?” [see, they’re Canadian. They obviously like hockey.]
“Yes! Yes! Please just stop!”
“Uhmmmm … ok.” She withdrew and let Chris alone. He fell onto the bed, giggling and wheezing, eyes streaming. She knelt next to him.
“You know what I remember?”
“Ugh?” he grunted.
“How tense the muscles in your back got.” She removed his shirt and pushed the heels of her hands into the taut flesh of his lower back, kneading and rubbing her way up to his neck and back down again.
“Oooh. I haven’t felt like this in …”
“Ten years?”
“Exactly.”
“Poor Chris. Too long. Nobody’s massaged you?”
“Not like that.”
“Well then … has anyone done this?” She lightly kissed his ear, along his jawbone, his collar [uhm, did he put his shirt back on?]. She then pressed her lips onto his and enveloped him in a long, beautiful kiss. That burst of memory was too much for him – he wanted nothing more than to make love to her now.
NOTES:
1) Woah, nelly! Way to get all racy here, young me! Let’s see, judging by the notes in the margin (i.e., I <3 PEDRO), I was dating my first “real boyfriend” when I wrote this (incidentally, Pedro broke up with me after a month. It was right before spring break and he told me that he had to move back to Puerto Rico. I was heartbroken, but what could I do? Fate was tearing us apart. Then I saw him at school after break was over. It was then that I discovered that he was a pathological liar who also apparently had problems with planning for future inevitabilities. Other than that, he was a nice guy.) Please do note that I was nowhere close to achieving the level of bedroom activity described in this chapter, and am thus mildly surprised that although the dialogue is completely inane, no one does anything incredibly weird, like sticking a tongue directly into an ear canal, for example.
2) So Violet’s plan has succeeded, huh? ENDGAME! Who would have thunk it? I wonder if this will satisfy her, or if she and Felicia will continue to harass Angel for no obvious reason.
COMING UP NEXT …
Scott Steiner calls Angel to ramble about how happy he is with Justina. Scott does indeed ramble. Angel says stupid things. Anvils threaten to flatten every character, but alas, only figuratively. I promise the one after this is slightly more interesting, but first we must suffer through …
CHAPTER 51: In the Dark
So ... last week, Justina took a shower and put on two different outfits before going to bed. Chris walked into his hotel room and discovered Justina standing there in one of those two outfits. GASP. Today: cue the bow chicka wow wows.
Chapter 50: Mate
The present melted away from Chris's conscious mind and the past flooded in.
It was 1986. Chris was in his second year of college at Edmonton University. Memories flashed at him in bits and pieces [is this a flashback within a flashback?]. The way her hair always smelled. The tiny birthmark that looked just like a seahorse on her stomach. Her perfect impression of Professor Cavanaugh. The way she said his name. The warm, passionate, excited sparkles in her hazel eyes when she informed him that this would be The Night [hey now! Where did that come from?!?] How smooth her cheeks were, how firm her lips were, how soft her skin was, the way she could so easily drive him up the wall by kissing his neck, the sweetness of her voice every time she told him she loved him. Her strange obsession with rabbits [huh?]. Everything they had been through ran through his mind in a half-second.
“My God,” she whispered, feeling the same wave of memories wash over her.
“Tina? Foss?”
“You remember my nicknames?” [they’re not exactly far from your actual name, lady]
“Do bunnies hop?” [oh wow]
“Oh, Chris!”
They ran toward each other and embraced.
“Been too long, Foss.”
“Your biceps got bigger.”
“That’s not the only thing.” [oh WOW.]
“Your mind?”
“Noooo.”
“Hmm, say, what is that in your pocket.” [I didn’t. Oh, I did.]
“Nothing. I’m just happy to see you.”
“Same old conversation. You haven’t forgotten?” she asked as they drew apart.
“Forget? It’s only been what … ten years?”
“Damn. Oh, Christopher. I’ve thought about you so much.”
“Me too, Foss. You look as stunning as ever.” [especially seeing as how she’s wearing a lavender negligee. Why isn’t she frantically trying to put on pants? Shoot, if I ran into an old college boyfriend like this I’d be … well, in the case of 90% of them, I’d be trying to find an object to use as a bludgeoning instrument … but for the other 10%, I’d be frantically searching for pants.]
“Flattery got you everywhere.”
“I’d like to think it was more than flattery.”
“Mmm … maybe.”
“You’re still using the same shampoo.”
“I swear by it.”
“I remember.”
“What else do you remember?”
“Everything.”
“Like what?”
“Well … I remember how gorgeous you were.”
“Were!?!”
“And still are, Tina dear.”
“You look good enough to eat, my little love-rabbit.” [oh WOW. I haven’t been this embarrassed by my own writing for several chapters now. This is painful.]
“Really?”
“Really. Hmmm …”
“What?”
“I wonder … do you still have that one tickle spot?”
“Uhh … no.”
“I think I’ll have to test for myself.” Justina removed her hands from his and moved them slowly to both of his sides. Before he could push them away, she began working her fingers underneath his ribcage until his chuckles gave way to giggles, which gave way to peals of laughter.
“Stop! Please!” He begged, trying to gulp air.
“Do you admit the unrelenting superiority of the Edmonton Oilers over the Bruins?” [see, they’re Canadian. They obviously like hockey.]
“Yes! Yes! Please just stop!”
“Uhmmmm … ok.” She withdrew and let Chris alone. He fell onto the bed, giggling and wheezing, eyes streaming. She knelt next to him.
“You know what I remember?”
“Ugh?” he grunted.
“How tense the muscles in your back got.” She removed his shirt and pushed the heels of her hands into the taut flesh of his lower back, kneading and rubbing her way up to his neck and back down again.
“Oooh. I haven’t felt like this in …”
“Ten years?”
“Exactly.”
“Poor Chris. Too long. Nobody’s massaged you?”
“Not like that.”
“Well then … has anyone done this?” She lightly kissed his ear, along his jawbone, his collar [uhm, did he put his shirt back on?]. She then pressed her lips onto his and enveloped him in a long, beautiful kiss. That burst of memory was too much for him – he wanted nothing more than to make love to her now.
NOTES:
1) Woah, nelly! Way to get all racy here, young me! Let’s see, judging by the notes in the margin (i.e., I <3 PEDRO), I was dating my first “real boyfriend” when I wrote this (incidentally, Pedro broke up with me after a month. It was right before spring break and he told me that he had to move back to Puerto Rico. I was heartbroken, but what could I do? Fate was tearing us apart. Then I saw him at school after break was over. It was then that I discovered that he was a pathological liar who also apparently had problems with planning for future inevitabilities. Other than that, he was a nice guy.) Please do note that I was nowhere close to achieving the level of bedroom activity described in this chapter, and am thus mildly surprised that although the dialogue is completely inane, no one does anything incredibly weird, like sticking a tongue directly into an ear canal, for example.
2) So Violet’s plan has succeeded, huh? ENDGAME! Who would have thunk it? I wonder if this will satisfy her, or if she and Felicia will continue to harass Angel for no obvious reason.
COMING UP NEXT …
Scott Steiner calls Angel to ramble about how happy he is with Justina. Scott does indeed ramble. Angel says stupid things. Anvils threaten to flatten every character, but alas, only figuratively. I promise the one after this is slightly more interesting, but first we must suffer through …
CHAPTER 51: In the Dark
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Chapter 49: Check
Howdy, friends. It's another scorcher here. Plus it's mosquitoey beyond belief. Yesterday I actually got six mosquito bites while I was sitting on my couch. And yes, my couch is inside.
In other amusing news, my mom called and said that she and my dad want to come and visit Slice and me for our first anniversary. Yeah. I replied: "Do you think you could just let Time rob the marriage of its romance gradually? Why must you hurry it along?" Good ol' parents. They mean well. Even Slice's. Who, incidentally, went into hysterics when we told them that we were going to the beach, because the sun will kill you instantly. I'd suggest that they were vampires, but that would infer that they drink blood, and I'm sure blood is very high in sodium. Maybe if SmartBalance made a blood substitute?
But I digress ... Where were we? Ah, yes. Violet's pawn is just about to take Angel's queen. Bring it!
Chapter 49: Check
The following week was a nightmare for Chris and Angel. They were around each other quite often at work, making for numerous uncomfortable situations. Their conversations were brief and strained, and they made every attempt to avoid each other. Violet, however, was in a better mood than ever, though she too wisely avoided Chris. With any luck, her pawn would be here any day, all thanks to a little bit of intelligent scheming and the reliability of Felicia.
Felicia met Justina’s plane at the airport in San Diego and drove her to the hotel.
“Wow, thanks, Ms. Baigen. Are you this hospitable to all of your new employees?”
“Of course! Company policy. Now, I must be off. Here is your key … Room 302. I believe I’m sure you’ll make a fine costume designer here.”
“Thank you for everything!”
“No problem at all! Be seeing you around.”
They said their goodbyes and Justine retreated to her room. She shook her long coppery curls from their bun and brushed them out [speaking as someone who occasionally has curly hair, this sounds like a recipe for frizz) before deciding to take a shower.
Chris Benoit got into the taxi and told the driver his destination, the San Diego Rialto Hotel. [so we’re back to these weird boutique hotels? And a taxi? That doesn’t sound cost efficient.]
Meanwhile, Justina turned off the shower and wrapped herself in a terrycloth towel. She selected a cool dress made form a light blue cotton and put it on. After drying her hair, she thought better of it and changed into her lavender negligee. It was almost time for bed anyway.
Chris arrived at the hotel and was immediately glad he had his key waiting for him on reserve. There was an enormous line of people waiting to get a room. He picked up the key from the front desk and made his way upstairs to room 302. As he fit the key into the lock, he barely had time to wonder why the lights were on [uhm, because they usually are in a hotel room?] before what he saw shocked his mind into numbness.
NOTES:
1) Is it just me, or is Violet’s Evil Scheme like the evil inverse of Angel’s kind-hearted, tear-inducing plan to reunite Brutus and Laurie? I can promise you that I just thought of this now, and was not going for any sort of literary depth when I wrote it.
2) Look, I can buy that Violet could get Felicia to pick Justina up at the airport and drive her to the hotel. I can even somehow buy the idea that they arranged for Justina and Chris to have the same hotel room. But how the heck did Violet wrangle a job for Justina? Is she sleeping with Ole? (probably) And how did Violet even find out what Justina did for a living? Were there other fake surveys that we were not privy to?
3) Re: Justina’s clothing: She’s alone in a hotel room, ready to settle down for the night. She takes a shower and then puts on a dress? Then changes her mind and puts on lingerie? I don’t know about you, but unless the room temperature was stuck at 40 degrees or the blinds were stuck on wide open, I’d have considered the situation clothing optional. Or, at the very most, I’d have donned an old T-shirt and gym shorts. Oh well.
COMING UP NEXT …
Will Justina’s lavender negligee help bring Violet’s Evil Scheme into fruition? Will I start making appalling single entendres? Will there be a tickle fight? Find out next time in …
Chapter 50: Mate
In other amusing news, my mom called and said that she and my dad want to come and visit Slice and me for our first anniversary. Yeah. I replied: "Do you think you could just let Time rob the marriage of its romance gradually? Why must you hurry it along?" Good ol' parents. They mean well. Even Slice's. Who, incidentally, went into hysterics when we told them that we were going to the beach, because the sun will kill you instantly. I'd suggest that they were vampires, but that would infer that they drink blood, and I'm sure blood is very high in sodium. Maybe if SmartBalance made a blood substitute?
But I digress ... Where were we? Ah, yes. Violet's pawn is just about to take Angel's queen. Bring it!
Chapter 49: Check
The following week was a nightmare for Chris and Angel. They were around each other quite often at work, making for numerous uncomfortable situations. Their conversations were brief and strained, and they made every attempt to avoid each other. Violet, however, was in a better mood than ever, though she too wisely avoided Chris. With any luck, her pawn would be here any day, all thanks to a little bit of intelligent scheming and the reliability of Felicia.
Felicia met Justina’s plane at the airport in San Diego and drove her to the hotel.
“Wow, thanks, Ms. Baigen. Are you this hospitable to all of your new employees?”
“Of course! Company policy. Now, I must be off. Here is your key … Room 302. I believe I’m sure you’ll make a fine costume designer here.”
“Thank you for everything!”
“No problem at all! Be seeing you around.”
They said their goodbyes and Justine retreated to her room. She shook her long coppery curls from their bun and brushed them out [speaking as someone who occasionally has curly hair, this sounds like a recipe for frizz) before deciding to take a shower.
Chris Benoit got into the taxi and told the driver his destination, the San Diego Rialto Hotel. [so we’re back to these weird boutique hotels? And a taxi? That doesn’t sound cost efficient.]
Meanwhile, Justina turned off the shower and wrapped herself in a terrycloth towel. She selected a cool dress made form a light blue cotton and put it on. After drying her hair, she thought better of it and changed into her lavender negligee. It was almost time for bed anyway.
Chris arrived at the hotel and was immediately glad he had his key waiting for him on reserve. There was an enormous line of people waiting to get a room. He picked up the key from the front desk and made his way upstairs to room 302. As he fit the key into the lock, he barely had time to wonder why the lights were on [uhm, because they usually are in a hotel room?] before what he saw shocked his mind into numbness.
NOTES:
1) Is it just me, or is Violet’s Evil Scheme like the evil inverse of Angel’s kind-hearted, tear-inducing plan to reunite Brutus and Laurie? I can promise you that I just thought of this now, and was not going for any sort of literary depth when I wrote it.
2) Look, I can buy that Violet could get Felicia to pick Justina up at the airport and drive her to the hotel. I can even somehow buy the idea that they arranged for Justina and Chris to have the same hotel room. But how the heck did Violet wrangle a job for Justina? Is she sleeping with Ole? (probably) And how did Violet even find out what Justina did for a living? Were there other fake surveys that we were not privy to?
3) Re: Justina’s clothing: She’s alone in a hotel room, ready to settle down for the night. She takes a shower and then puts on a dress? Then changes her mind and puts on lingerie? I don’t know about you, but unless the room temperature was stuck at 40 degrees or the blinds were stuck on wide open, I’d have considered the situation clothing optional. Or, at the very most, I’d have donned an old T-shirt and gym shorts. Oh well.
COMING UP NEXT …
Will Justina’s lavender negligee help bring Violet’s Evil Scheme into fruition? Will I start making appalling single entendres? Will there be a tickle fight? Find out next time in …
Chapter 50: Mate
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Chapter 48: Confession (Part II)
Welcome, welcome, welcome! Well, I’m sure you were all crying buckets all week as you worried yourselves sick over the troubles rocking the S.S. Changel. Therefore, without further ado, I humbly present to you the inconclusive conclusion to Chapter 48.
Huzzah.
Chapter 48 – Confession (Part II)
“Chris?”
“I don’t know, Angel. God knows I want to believe you.” He spun and faced her, face wet with tears. “It hurts, Angel! It hurts that I should even have to think about you and anyone else.”
“I know.”
He walked close to her and locked eyes with her. “Tell me the truth.”
“I swear to you that nothing happened that night. And I swear that I love you, Chris. With all my heart.”
He continued to stare into her red eyes for a long while until he finally said, “I believe you, Angel.”
She closed her eyes and exhaled shakily. “Thank God.”
“But Angel, I don’t think we should see each other for a while. This is too much.”
“What?”
“I don’t know what else to do. We’re no good right now. I think we both need to take a step back and realize what is going on. ‘Cause I sure as hell don’t know now.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I am too. But what’s done is done. The only thing we can do now is hope our future will be brighter.”
“Three weeks. If we can survive that, we can survive anything.” [of course. Three weeks is the ideal amount of time to prove that you can spend a lifetime together]
“That sounds like a good amount of time to me.”
“Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“Oh, Angel. I love you too. And we can get through this. I know we can.”
“Yeah.”
“I should go now.”
“Ok.” She said softly.
Chris walked towards the door with Angel following close behind. She had no clue as to what to say next.
“Drive safely,” she murmured.
“Sure.” He looked at her for a long time before he closed the door behind him.
Angel expected herself to break down into tears the moment he left, but she didn’t [wtf? Is she feeling a bit off today?] She wanted to talk to someone. She wanted to talk to Bobby. She wanted to talk to … Mr. P, Scott, Rick, Dustin, anyone. [Sure, Dustin would be a capital idea.] The last thing she wanted was to be alone. Her eyes fell on Dustin’s sock. The tears welled in her eyes, but instead of reaching for the box of tissues [why would she have to reach for them? Aren’t they always on her person?], she reached for the telephone. Who should she call? She picked up the receiver and listened to the dial tone. Suddenly, Felicia’s face popped into her head. [She remembered the conversation they had had earlier.
“What the heck,” Angel thought. She dialed Felicia’s number and waited for her to pick up.
“Hello?”
“Felicia?”
“Yes.”
“This is Angelica Kerris.”
“Oh. Hi. What’s up?”
So Angel told her about the entire talk she had just had with Chris, from the moment he stepped into her house to the moment he walked out the door. When she was finished, she breathed a heavy sigh and waited for Felicia to say something. When she finally opened her mouth, Angel was shocked.
“It’s definitely for the better, Angel. You really need to date more people.”
“What?!? I don’t want to date anyone else. I want Chris! I love Chris!”
“Hmm ... what do you think about him dating other women?”
“Why?”
“Oh don’t worry! I’m not interested! I’m engaged! I’m just wondering.”
“Oh. Sorry. Uh … I don’t know, Felicia. It makes me sick to my stomach to even think he’s thinking about anyone else.”
“Were you this jealous when you two were going out?” [Ha! This is like the opposite of AngelSense© Brand advice.]
“I’m not jealous, just worried. And I have reason to be! You were right! He did kiss another woman.”
“Really? Oh, honey, this wasn’t meant to be.”
“You’re sure?”
“Well … give it a few weeks.”
“Okay.”
“Angel, I have to go, sorry.”
“Okay, thanks Felicia.”
“No problem.”
As soon as Angel hung up the phone, Felicia giggled to herself and dialed another number.
“Hello?”
“It’s Felicia.”
“Oh? News?”
“Plenty.” Felicia quickly retold the entire story.
“Perfect!” shouted Violet. “Phase three is in effect as of now. Before you know it, we’ll both have our revenge on Angelica. This was too easy.”
“It’s not over yet.”
“No. But the rest is a snap. We’ll just put the right people in the right places at the right times and let nature run its course. It’s like a giant chess game, really. Angel is the opponent’s king, Chris her loyal Queen, our little redhead the pawn. [what is Felicia? The rook?] And when the pawn takes the Queen the King is wide open for a checkmate. Well done, Felicia.”
NOTES:
1) Phase three is in effect? And a grotesquely overwrought chess metaphor? Egad. This villain talk is getting to be a bit much, even for me.
2) So Felicia also wants revenge on Angel. Because … uhm … of … that thing. That happened. Way back when. You know. That thing.
COMING UP NEXT …
Violet’s Evil Scheme hits the big time. Will Chris take the bait? Will Justina have to fill out any more surveys? Will we get any actual clue as to why Felicia exists? BONUS: outfit description! Join us next time for ...
Chapter 49: Check
Huzzah.
Chapter 48 – Confession (Part II)
“Chris?”
“I don’t know, Angel. God knows I want to believe you.” He spun and faced her, face wet with tears. “It hurts, Angel! It hurts that I should even have to think about you and anyone else.”
“I know.”
He walked close to her and locked eyes with her. “Tell me the truth.”
“I swear to you that nothing happened that night. And I swear that I love you, Chris. With all my heart.”
He continued to stare into her red eyes for a long while until he finally said, “I believe you, Angel.”
She closed her eyes and exhaled shakily. “Thank God.”
“But Angel, I don’t think we should see each other for a while. This is too much.”
“What?”
“I don’t know what else to do. We’re no good right now. I think we both need to take a step back and realize what is going on. ‘Cause I sure as hell don’t know now.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I am too. But what’s done is done. The only thing we can do now is hope our future will be brighter.”
“Three weeks. If we can survive that, we can survive anything.” [of course. Three weeks is the ideal amount of time to prove that you can spend a lifetime together]
“That sounds like a good amount of time to me.”
“Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“Oh, Angel. I love you too. And we can get through this. I know we can.”
“Yeah.”
“I should go now.”
“Ok.” She said softly.
Chris walked towards the door with Angel following close behind. She had no clue as to what to say next.
“Drive safely,” she murmured.
“Sure.” He looked at her for a long time before he closed the door behind him.
Angel expected herself to break down into tears the moment he left, but she didn’t [wtf? Is she feeling a bit off today?] She wanted to talk to someone. She wanted to talk to Bobby. She wanted to talk to … Mr. P, Scott, Rick, Dustin, anyone. [Sure, Dustin would be a capital idea.] The last thing she wanted was to be alone. Her eyes fell on Dustin’s sock. The tears welled in her eyes, but instead of reaching for the box of tissues [why would she have to reach for them? Aren’t they always on her person?], she reached for the telephone. Who should she call? She picked up the receiver and listened to the dial tone. Suddenly, Felicia’s face popped into her head. [She remembered the conversation they had had earlier.
“What the heck,” Angel thought. She dialed Felicia’s number and waited for her to pick up.
“Hello?”
“Felicia?”
“Yes.”
“This is Angelica Kerris.”
“Oh. Hi. What’s up?”
So Angel told her about the entire talk she had just had with Chris, from the moment he stepped into her house to the moment he walked out the door. When she was finished, she breathed a heavy sigh and waited for Felicia to say something. When she finally opened her mouth, Angel was shocked.
“It’s definitely for the better, Angel. You really need to date more people.”
“What?!? I don’t want to date anyone else. I want Chris! I love Chris!”
“Hmm ... what do you think about him dating other women?”
“Why?”
“Oh don’t worry! I’m not interested! I’m engaged! I’m just wondering.”
“Oh. Sorry. Uh … I don’t know, Felicia. It makes me sick to my stomach to even think he’s thinking about anyone else.”
“Were you this jealous when you two were going out?” [Ha! This is like the opposite of AngelSense© Brand advice.]
“I’m not jealous, just worried. And I have reason to be! You were right! He did kiss another woman.”
“Really? Oh, honey, this wasn’t meant to be.”
“You’re sure?”
“Well … give it a few weeks.”
“Okay.”
“Angel, I have to go, sorry.”
“Okay, thanks Felicia.”
“No problem.”
As soon as Angel hung up the phone, Felicia giggled to herself and dialed another number.
“Hello?”
“It’s Felicia.”
“Oh? News?”
“Plenty.” Felicia quickly retold the entire story.
“Perfect!” shouted Violet. “Phase three is in effect as of now. Before you know it, we’ll both have our revenge on Angelica. This was too easy.”
“It’s not over yet.”
“No. But the rest is a snap. We’ll just put the right people in the right places at the right times and let nature run its course. It’s like a giant chess game, really. Angel is the opponent’s king, Chris her loyal Queen, our little redhead the pawn. [what is Felicia? The rook?] And when the pawn takes the Queen the King is wide open for a checkmate. Well done, Felicia.”
NOTES:
1) Phase three is in effect? And a grotesquely overwrought chess metaphor? Egad. This villain talk is getting to be a bit much, even for me.
2) So Felicia also wants revenge on Angel. Because … uhm … of … that thing. That happened. Way back when. You know. That thing.
COMING UP NEXT …
Violet’s Evil Scheme hits the big time. Will Chris take the bait? Will Justina have to fill out any more surveys? Will we get any actual clue as to why Felicia exists? BONUS: outfit description! Join us next time for ...
Chapter 49: Check
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Chapter 48 - Confession (Part I)
Welcome back, folks. Boy howdy, is it hot out there today. At least where I live. When I try to take my dog for a walk, she gets to the end of the block and then stares at me as if to say "F this." Dude, I don't blame her. She's covered in a black fur coat. On the other hand, this situation does not stop her from suddenly getting a burst of energy and lunging like a maniac at neighborhood cats. Once she realizes that I will not allow her to pull an Alf and snack on kitties, however, she resumes panting and shooting me pathetic looks.
Allrighty then, where were we? Ah yes, Angel just had a conversation with Felicia, she of the cornsilk tressses, who advised Angel to have a trial separation from Chris. Then Felicia reported back to Violet, who cackled with evil glee. Today: Chris and Angel have it out. This chapter is rife with some unabashedlybad stables, such as tears, ellipses, and excessive descriptors. Bonus: italics. SUPER BONUS: dramatic use of a sock.
Enjoy!
Chapter 48 – Confession
Angel only had time to change and feed her pets [how has the ASPCA not seized them yet?] before Chris arrived. She shooed Flufflebunny upstairs and answered the doorbell. Her stomach could have turned skim milk into butter the way it was churning.
Angel opened the door. Chris Benoit stood there in blue jeans and an Edmonton Oilers jacket. His light brown hair shone in the cold moonlight. When he exhaled, tiny white puffs wafted away from him. He immediately looked up from his feet and locked eyes with Angel. She invited him in silently.
“I missed you, Chris.” She said, taking his coat and hanging it up.
“I missed you too, Sunshine.” He enveloped her in a hug, burying his chilled face in her fragranced hair. “I don’t know how I could have believed him,” he muttered to himself.
“What?” She asked, breaking their embrace.
“Angel …” he began “I …”
“Let’s sit down.” She ushered him to the couch. He stared at his shoes and drew in his breath.
“Angel. I … did something I shouldn’t have done.”
“So did I.” She admitted in a voice barely audible. “Please let me explain first.”
“No.”
“Yes, Chris. Please.”
He looked up at her and after a few long moments, agreed.
“It was just before you left for Japan. I should’ve told you as soon as it happened … but I didn’t and I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for everything.” A choking sob escaped from her throat. “I was in my office and Dustin Rhodes …”
“My God, no.”
“I don’t know what happened or why, Chris, but we kissed each other. You have to believe that’s all it was, Chris. You have to. It was one kiss and that was it. We pulled away from each other and immediately began to …. Oh God. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do any of this.” She broke off in tears.
“Oh, Angel.” Was all he could say. He stood and walked to the window. “Arn somehow found out about this and he told me. And I got so mad at myself for believing him.” Chris turned and faced Angelica. “But I should confess too.” She looked up at him with a perplexed glaze over her moist eyes. “When I found out about you, I … I … kissed someone else.”
“Who?”
“It’s not important.”
“Who?” she demanded.
“Violet Royce.” [does Angel even know who that is?] He moved back to the couch. “What’s wrong with us, Angel? I thought we were perfect.”
“I don’t know.” She enveloped her head in her arms and cried. Chris’ glance fell to the couch itself, for a piece of material was caught in the cushion. He yanked it out and inspected it. A deathly silence fell over the distraught couple. Angel lifted her head from her arms and realized what Chris was holding in his hands.
“Angel … has your brother visited in the last two weeks?” [huzzah! MBD!]
“No,” she squeaked.
“Now … unless you’ve started wearing men’s socks … I think I need an explanation. Whose sock is this?” His voice was firm and grave. [I thought this was extremely serious when I wrote this, but now I can’t stop laughing at the word “sock.”]
She didn’t say a word. Tears flowed down her face in streams.
“Tell me or I’m out that door and I swear you’ll never see me again.”
“It’s Dustin’s.”
“And … what … What is it doing here? No … please don’t tell me, Angel. Please, please, please.” His strong voice weakened until it faded into a whisper.
“Chris, listen to me. Barry Windham crashed his bachelor party – he needed a friend and I let him stay on the couch. I swear to you that nothing happened.”
“I don’t believe this, Angel!”
He threw the sock on the floor and stood up. “First, you neglect to tell me that you cheated on me with that peroxide blonde cowboy and then you invite him to spend the night while I’m halfway around the world?” What is wrong with you? Or … is it me, Angel? Am I not giving you what you need? Maybe you’re better off without me? Maybe I should just leave now and not look back. I sthat what you want? For God’s sakes, say something.” [holy overuse of italics, Batman]
“Don’t leave me, Chris,” she pleaded. “You have to believe me.”
“Why?”
“Because there’s nothing left for us if you don’t. Chris … nothing happened between Dustin and I that night. [except the usual emphatic hugging]. We had one kiss once … that was it.”
He swallowed hard and walked to the window again.
TO BE CONTINUED …
NOTES:
1) Did Dustin just go home with one sock? Didn't he notice that one of his feet was rather uncomfortable in his shoe? Unless ... he left it there on purpose as a love token. Gross?
2) Dang, there were a lot of tears in this chapter. I mean, even for me.
Woah, nelly. Alright folks, we're going to leave those two crazy kids in this tension-filled moment for now.
Coming up next ...
Changel continue to yammer, cry, and stare at each other. Then Angel makes a phone call that she will probably regret. Bring it!
Allrighty then, where were we? Ah yes, Angel just had a conversation with Felicia, she of the cornsilk tressses, who advised Angel to have a trial separation from Chris. Then Felicia reported back to Violet, who cackled with evil glee. Today: Chris and Angel have it out. This chapter is rife with some unabashedlybad stables, such as tears, ellipses, and excessive descriptors. Bonus: italics. SUPER BONUS: dramatic use of a sock.
Enjoy!
Chapter 48 – Confession
Angel only had time to change and feed her pets [how has the ASPCA not seized them yet?] before Chris arrived. She shooed Flufflebunny upstairs and answered the doorbell. Her stomach could have turned skim milk into butter the way it was churning.
Angel opened the door. Chris Benoit stood there in blue jeans and an Edmonton Oilers jacket. His light brown hair shone in the cold moonlight. When he exhaled, tiny white puffs wafted away from him. He immediately looked up from his feet and locked eyes with Angel. She invited him in silently.
“I missed you, Chris.” She said, taking his coat and hanging it up.
“I missed you too, Sunshine.” He enveloped her in a hug, burying his chilled face in her fragranced hair. “I don’t know how I could have believed him,” he muttered to himself.
“What?” She asked, breaking their embrace.
“Angel …” he began “I …”
“Let’s sit down.” She ushered him to the couch. He stared at his shoes and drew in his breath.
“Angel. I … did something I shouldn’t have done.”
“So did I.” She admitted in a voice barely audible. “Please let me explain first.”
“No.”
“Yes, Chris. Please.”
He looked up at her and after a few long moments, agreed.
“It was just before you left for Japan. I should’ve told you as soon as it happened … but I didn’t and I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for everything.” A choking sob escaped from her throat. “I was in my office and Dustin Rhodes …”
“My God, no.”
“I don’t know what happened or why, Chris, but we kissed each other. You have to believe that’s all it was, Chris. You have to. It was one kiss and that was it. We pulled away from each other and immediately began to …. Oh God. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do any of this.” She broke off in tears.
“Oh, Angel.” Was all he could say. He stood and walked to the window. “Arn somehow found out about this and he told me. And I got so mad at myself for believing him.” Chris turned and faced Angelica. “But I should confess too.” She looked up at him with a perplexed glaze over her moist eyes. “When I found out about you, I … I … kissed someone else.”
“Who?”
“It’s not important.”
“Who?” she demanded.
“Violet Royce.” [does Angel even know who that is?] He moved back to the couch. “What’s wrong with us, Angel? I thought we were perfect.”
“I don’t know.” She enveloped her head in her arms and cried. Chris’ glance fell to the couch itself, for a piece of material was caught in the cushion. He yanked it out and inspected it. A deathly silence fell over the distraught couple. Angel lifted her head from her arms and realized what Chris was holding in his hands.
“Angel … has your brother visited in the last two weeks?” [huzzah! MBD!]
“No,” she squeaked.
“Now … unless you’ve started wearing men’s socks … I think I need an explanation. Whose sock is this?” His voice was firm and grave. [I thought this was extremely serious when I wrote this, but now I can’t stop laughing at the word “sock.”]
She didn’t say a word. Tears flowed down her face in streams.
“Tell me or I’m out that door and I swear you’ll never see me again.”
“It’s Dustin’s.”
“And … what … What is it doing here? No … please don’t tell me, Angel. Please, please, please.” His strong voice weakened until it faded into a whisper.
“Chris, listen to me. Barry Windham crashed his bachelor party – he needed a friend and I let him stay on the couch. I swear to you that nothing happened.”
“I don’t believe this, Angel!”
He threw the sock on the floor and stood up. “First, you neglect to tell me that you cheated on me with that peroxide blonde cowboy and then you invite him to spend the night while I’m halfway around the world?” What is wrong with you? Or … is it me, Angel? Am I not giving you what you need? Maybe you’re better off without me? Maybe I should just leave now and not look back. I sthat what you want? For God’s sakes, say something.” [holy overuse of italics, Batman]
“Don’t leave me, Chris,” she pleaded. “You have to believe me.”
“Why?”
“Because there’s nothing left for us if you don’t. Chris … nothing happened between Dustin and I that night. [except the usual emphatic hugging]. We had one kiss once … that was it.”
He swallowed hard and walked to the window again.
TO BE CONTINUED …
NOTES:
1) Did Dustin just go home with one sock? Didn't he notice that one of his feet was rather uncomfortable in his shoe? Unless ... he left it there on purpose as a love token. Gross?
2) Dang, there were a lot of tears in this chapter. I mean, even for me.
Woah, nelly. Alright folks, we're going to leave those two crazy kids in this tension-filled moment for now.
Coming up next ...
Changel continue to yammer, cry, and stare at each other. Then Angel makes a phone call that she will probably regret. Bring it!
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Chapter 47 - Friendly Advice
Welcome back, compadres. Glad you're here. Before we get to today's chapter, I'd just like to recommend a book: Chris Jericho's autobiography. It was fantastic. For serious. I laughed out loud so much that Slice thought I was exaggerating, but then I read parts aloud to him and he cracked up too. It was funny, exciting, compelling, and inspirational. I mean every one of those words sincerely. Plus, getting a "behind the scenes" scoop makes this stuff I wrote even more ludicrous. Especially the dressing rooms.
Anyhoo ... what's on the docket for today? Ah yes, Chapter 47, in which Angel has a conversation with a fifth-tier character that you assume will be important one day down the line, but I'm just warning you now: don't be so hasty with your assumptions. Enjoy!
Chapter 47 – Friendly Advice
Angel’s office seemed gloomy and quiet. She flicked on the lights, cheering the place up a bit. She looked at her watch nervously. She only [sic] an hour to set up before she would meet Chris at her house. [hold the phone. What is she setting up? Her nurse’s station? Why would she set up and then leave?]
“Hi, Angelica. Can I help?” Asked Felicia, walking through the door.
“Oh, Felicia! Thanks. Could you get the gauze from the storage room?” [is Angel still too traumatized by Marcus and Missy to get it herself?]
“No problem.”
Felicia let the room and walked not to the storage room, but to a little office near the entrance. She knocked twice.
“Who is it?”
“Felicia.”
Violet opened the door and ushered Felicia in.
“Well?”
“She’s in there alone. I’m going ahead with the plan.”
“Remember, she must trust you explicitly.” [what does that mean?]
Felicia put a wisp of fine cornsilk hair behind her ear. “I understand.”
Nurse Baigen reentered Angel’s office with the gauze and wordlessly put it into the grey-green medicine cabinet.
“Thanks,”Angel said. She removed the antibacterial disinfectant spray and cleaned the countertops. [do we really need this level of detail?] She didn’t think she was showing an outward display of any emotion, so it greatly surprised her when Felicia asked her if anything was wrong.
“No. No. why do you ask?”
“You look kinda down.”
“I do?”
“Yes. Very much so. What’s wrong?”
“With me? Absolutely nothing.”
“Ok. Sorry. But if you want to talk …”
“Thanks.”
They continued setting up in silence. A thought popped into Angel’s head. Maybe Felicia had a good idea as to how to break things to Chris. [huh?] She was certainly drawing a blank.
“Actually …”
“Yeah?”
“I could use some advice.”
“Go ahead.”
“Well … you know how I’ve been going out with Chris Benoit?”
“Yeah.”
“I love him with all my heart, but about a month ago, I kissed another guy.”
Felicia, who knew all this already, let her eyes widen in surprise. “No.”
“Yes. I don’t’ know how to break it to him. He said he needed to speak with me badly. I think he found out from someone.”
“Either that or he’s got a secret of his own.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe he was in a similar situation.”
“You think so?”
“If you were tempted by someone else, it’s possible.”
“I hadn’t thought about it. What should I say if that’s true?”
“Hmm …” Felicia’s pale forehead wrinkled in thought. “Well, if that is the case … maybe what you two need is a little more time away from each other.”
“What?”
“A test! To see if you really were made for each other!” Her light blue eyes sparkled.
“I don’t understand.” [is this concept that difficult to comprehend? It may not be the best idea ever, but it is clearly and logically worded. It’s not like Felicia just told Angel to spin plates in a panda kayak.]
“Like a trial period … say, three weeks at least. If you can stay faithful for that long, you can get through anything. It worked for me and my boyfriend.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Give it a shot.”
“I don’t know...”
The phone rang, interrupting Angel. As soon as she was about to pick it up, it stopped.
“How odd.”
Felicia agreed, but recognized Violet’s signal. [The signal for what?] She glanced at her watch and gasped. “I’m late for my meeting with Ole! I’m sorry, Angel!”
“It’s alright. Thank you, Felicia.”
“No problem. [twice in one chapter? Is she channeling Alf?] Take my advice.”
“Maybe I will.”
Felicia Baigen rushed through the door, leaving Angelica to turn the idea over in her head. Violet was waiting impatiently in her office.
“Well?”
“It went very well.”
Violet smiled in an evil way. “Good. Now we begin phase two. You know what to do?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect.” This was too sweet!
NOTES
1) Let’s break down Violet’s Evil Scheme thus far, shall we? STEP ONE: pose as a secretary, constantly bump into Chris with top buttons of shirt undone. STEP TWO: try to seduce Chris after colluding with Arn. STEP THREE: Call Chris’s ex-girlfriend and survey her about her dating habits. STEP FOUR: Send Felicia in to tell Angel that she and Chris should have a trial separation. At some point during this scheme, she acquired an office and an evil laugh. And a comic book villain’s vocabulary. “Phase two”???
2) And what was with "the signal"? Violet didn't seem to have any ostensible reason to hail Felicia back into her office. And how did she know Felicia was done giving Evil Advice to Angel?
3) I know I’ve mentioned this before, but why do they need two nurses? Angel really never seems all that busy, unless you count locating gauze or being cried upon.
4) We all know why Violet/Marie/Sunny/Nightshade/Gillian hates Angel, but what is Felicia’s problem with her? Unless she just really enjoys being Vi’s minion. What’s that you say? You assume I’ll explain in future chapters? Well … you just go ahead and hold fast to that assumption.
COMING UP NEXT …
Here it comes, folks: a cavalcade of Changel drama. Boy howdy, it’s dramatic. I don’t want to give too much away, so all I’ll say is that yes, there will be crying. And a sock.
Tune in next week for …
Chapter 48 – Confession (Part I)
Anyhoo ... what's on the docket for today? Ah yes, Chapter 47, in which Angel has a conversation with a fifth-tier character that you assume will be important one day down the line, but I'm just warning you now: don't be so hasty with your assumptions. Enjoy!
Chapter 47 – Friendly Advice
Angel’s office seemed gloomy and quiet. She flicked on the lights, cheering the place up a bit. She looked at her watch nervously. She only [sic] an hour to set up before she would meet Chris at her house. [hold the phone. What is she setting up? Her nurse’s station? Why would she set up and then leave?]
“Hi, Angelica. Can I help?” Asked Felicia, walking through the door.
“Oh, Felicia! Thanks. Could you get the gauze from the storage room?” [is Angel still too traumatized by Marcus and Missy to get it herself?]
“No problem.”
Felicia let the room and walked not to the storage room, but to a little office near the entrance. She knocked twice.
“Who is it?”
“Felicia.”
Violet opened the door and ushered Felicia in.
“Well?”
“She’s in there alone. I’m going ahead with the plan.”
“Remember, she must trust you explicitly.” [what does that mean?]
Felicia put a wisp of fine cornsilk hair behind her ear. “I understand.”
Nurse Baigen reentered Angel’s office with the gauze and wordlessly put it into the grey-green medicine cabinet.
“Thanks,”Angel said. She removed the antibacterial disinfectant spray and cleaned the countertops. [do we really need this level of detail?] She didn’t think she was showing an outward display of any emotion, so it greatly surprised her when Felicia asked her if anything was wrong.
“No. No. why do you ask?”
“You look kinda down.”
“I do?”
“Yes. Very much so. What’s wrong?”
“With me? Absolutely nothing.”
“Ok. Sorry. But if you want to talk …”
“Thanks.”
They continued setting up in silence. A thought popped into Angel’s head. Maybe Felicia had a good idea as to how to break things to Chris. [huh?] She was certainly drawing a blank.
“Actually …”
“Yeah?”
“I could use some advice.”
“Go ahead.”
“Well … you know how I’ve been going out with Chris Benoit?”
“Yeah.”
“I love him with all my heart, but about a month ago, I kissed another guy.”
Felicia, who knew all this already, let her eyes widen in surprise. “No.”
“Yes. I don’t’ know how to break it to him. He said he needed to speak with me badly. I think he found out from someone.”
“Either that or he’s got a secret of his own.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe he was in a similar situation.”
“You think so?”
“If you were tempted by someone else, it’s possible.”
“I hadn’t thought about it. What should I say if that’s true?”
“Hmm …” Felicia’s pale forehead wrinkled in thought. “Well, if that is the case … maybe what you two need is a little more time away from each other.”
“What?”
“A test! To see if you really were made for each other!” Her light blue eyes sparkled.
“I don’t understand.” [is this concept that difficult to comprehend? It may not be the best idea ever, but it is clearly and logically worded. It’s not like Felicia just told Angel to spin plates in a panda kayak.]
“Like a trial period … say, three weeks at least. If you can stay faithful for that long, you can get through anything. It worked for me and my boyfriend.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Give it a shot.”
“I don’t know...”
The phone rang, interrupting Angel. As soon as she was about to pick it up, it stopped.
“How odd.”
Felicia agreed, but recognized Violet’s signal. [The signal for what?] She glanced at her watch and gasped. “I’m late for my meeting with Ole! I’m sorry, Angel!”
“It’s alright. Thank you, Felicia.”
“No problem. [twice in one chapter? Is she channeling Alf?] Take my advice.”
“Maybe I will.”
Felicia Baigen rushed through the door, leaving Angelica to turn the idea over in her head. Violet was waiting impatiently in her office.
“Well?”
“It went very well.”
Violet smiled in an evil way. “Good. Now we begin phase two. You know what to do?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect.” This was too sweet!
NOTES
1) Let’s break down Violet’s Evil Scheme thus far, shall we? STEP ONE: pose as a secretary, constantly bump into Chris with top buttons of shirt undone. STEP TWO: try to seduce Chris after colluding with Arn. STEP THREE: Call Chris’s ex-girlfriend and survey her about her dating habits. STEP FOUR: Send Felicia in to tell Angel that she and Chris should have a trial separation. At some point during this scheme, she acquired an office and an evil laugh. And a comic book villain’s vocabulary. “Phase two”???
2) And what was with "the signal"? Violet didn't seem to have any ostensible reason to hail Felicia back into her office. And how did she know Felicia was done giving Evil Advice to Angel?
3) I know I’ve mentioned this before, but why do they need two nurses? Angel really never seems all that busy, unless you count locating gauze or being cried upon.
4) We all know why Violet/Marie/Sunny/Nightshade/Gillian hates Angel, but what is Felicia’s problem with her? Unless she just really enjoys being Vi’s minion. What’s that you say? You assume I’ll explain in future chapters? Well … you just go ahead and hold fast to that assumption.
COMING UP NEXT …
Here it comes, folks: a cavalcade of Changel drama. Boy howdy, it’s dramatic. I don’t want to give too much away, so all I’ll say is that yes, there will be crying. And a sock.
Tune in next week for …
Chapter 48 – Confession (Part I)
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