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)
Monday, August 31, 2009
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!
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