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
Friday, November 20, 2009
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)
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