Sorry for the long delay between chapters. I was visiting the family for the holidays. I never have a problem with overeating during the holiday season. This is not necessarily by choice. My parents are a strange breed of folk who only eat one meal a day (dinner). Thus, there is no food available for either breakfast or lunch. The fridge and pantry only contain dinner ingredients. So unless I want to chow down on raw beef, onions, or cornstarch, I pretty much just starve.
But I digress. We now return to the trials and tribulations of Angel n' friends. This one’s gonna take us back, folks. Don’t worry if you’re not completely familiar with the pre-WCW portion of Angel’s saga … she rehashes it for you. But if you’re a new reader and are interested in the older stuff, it’s all waiting for you in the archives.
So … what better way to start off the new year than with A SURPRISE? What’s the surprise, you ask? Oh, I’m not spoiling it for you. It spoils itself by being so sucktacular.
Chapter 21: A Surprise
The telephone rang. Angel screamed. She was reading Pet Sematary (for the 3rd time) in a hotel in Michigan. She put down the book and answered the phone.
“Ang! What’s wrong?” [wait … didn’t we all laugh at this “hilarious” scenario a mere two chapters ago?]
“Nothing. I was just reading Pet Sematary. How are you, Scotty?”
“Fine, thanks. How’d you know it was me?” [maybe she could hear your muscles bulging over the phone.]
“You’re the only man who calls me Ang. What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you were free today.”
“Yeah, why?”
“I’d like you to meet Marie.”
“Oh! I’d love to! Only I don’t have much in the way of transportation.” [? How did she get to her hotel? How is she planning on leaving her hotel? ]
“No prob! I can pick you up. You’re staying in the Silver Lake Hotel, right?”
“How’d you know?”
“WCW always stayed there in Michigan. Don’t ask me why.”
“Ok. I’ll wait in the lobby.”
“How about 1:00?”
“Sounds great.”
(Scotty and Angel are in Scott’s car, driving to Marie’s house) [seamless transition! Seamless!]
“So, Scotty, what’s Marie like?”
“Oh, she’s really nice, and she’s so smart. She also happens to be beautiful.” [wait … did someone clone Angel?]
“Sounds perfect. What’s she look like?”
“She’s got shoulder-length black hair and these really bright green eyes. They’re incredible.”
They spent the rest of the drive chatting casually about just about everything.
They arrived at Marie’s home. It was fairly large, with a stucco finish.
Scott used a key to open the door. The interior was lovely, the floors were covered in thick cream colored carpeting and the rest of the room was a light coffee color.
“Marie, hon, we’re back. Come meet Angelica.”
An attractive woman stopped into the room. She looked incredibly familiar to Angel. Then it hit her.
Marie also immediately recognized Angel. No one spoke. The two women stared at each other with a mixture of hate and shock in their eyes.
“Nightshade.” whispered Angel.
“Angel” Marie whispered back [I’ll bet she pronounced it with a “j”]
“You two know each other?” Scott asked tentatively.
“Oh, we know each other all too well,” said Marie.
“Wait a minute. What’s going on? Who’s Nightshade?”
“So how many other names have you got, Sunny?”
“You little bi--.”
“Stop it!” Scott interrupted. “Now you two just cool down and tell me what’s going on.”
Since Marie remained silent, Angel began.
“This is Sunny Tyler, AKA Nightshade, AKA Marie Haven. She was a manager in the WWF where I used to work. She, Bobby Heenan, and my then best friend, Mr. Perfect Curt Hennig all worked for Ric Flair. Mr. P fell in love with her, and after a time [6 hours], she fell in love with him. Then one day, Ric Flair and Marty Jannetty, whom I managed, had a match. At the end of the match, as I was helping Marty onto a stretcher, she whomped me on the back of the head with a pair of brass knuckles. From what Mr. P told me, he and Nightshade here got into a huge fight, and she left him heartbroken. Later, she sent him a letter sprayed with a perfume he was terribly allergic to. If I hadn’t heard him sneezing and thrown away the letter, who knows what would have happened to him.”
Scott was in a state of utter disbelief. “Marie?”
“Curt told you half of it, my dear, he must’ve left out the fact that I was only doing my job and that he broke my heart. Up until then he was the only man I had ever loved, and then I found out that he was running around with you!”
“Running around with me? We were best friends, we never did so much as hold hands!! And anyway, what gave you the right to send him that note? God knows what you could have done to him!”
“I would take that back if I could, but I can’t.”
“Look, Marie, or Sunny, or whatever, we’ve had our problems in the past, and don’t think that I’m about to forgive you right now, but let’s put this fight on hold for Scotty’s sake, OK?”
“Deal.”
“Scotty, are you allright?” Angel would have liked to clasp his hand or squeeze his shoulder, but she did not for fear of angering Marie.
“What happened to you after you left the WWF, Marie?” he asked, eyes shut tightly.
“I was heartbroken. I changed my lifestyle, moved to Michigan, and changed my name – legally.” She eyed Angel. “After a while, I met you, Scott, and I fell in love again.”
Scotty opened his eyes – there were tears forming in the corners. [huzzah!] “You told me I was the first.”
“You were.”
“You never … ”
“No.”
He sighed, almost a sigh of relief. “I don’t believe this.” He whispered.
“Believe it, Scott,” said Marie. “And you believe this, Angel. I may not seem to be the most likeable person in the world, but obviously I can’t be all that bad if two of your best friends fell in love with me.”
Angel made no reply.
“Have you ever been in love, Angel?” she asked with an edge to her voice.
“Yes.” Angel responded quietly.
“I’m surprised. You’ve got the looks to have just about anyone. Why waste your time on love?”
Angel narrowed her eyes. “Do you honestly think I’m like that?” Angel’s voice was low and dangerous.
“You don’t want to know what I honestly think of you.”
“I don’t’ have to take this. Especially not from you.” She turned to Scott. “I’ll be in the car, Scott. I’m sorry you had to be a part of this.” A tear slid down her cheek, and she ran out of Marie’s house to Scotty’s car.
About ten minutes later, Scott opened the driver side of his car door [huh?] and started the engine.
“There are tissues in the glove compartment.” He said.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“Are you OK?”
She nodded. “Are you?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m still kind of shocked, I guess. How long were you and Marie in the WWF together?”
“About 6 months. Scott, I hope you don’t mind, but I really don’t want to talk about this anymore, allright?”
“Sure, Ang.”
They spent the rest of the drive home in silence. Scott pulled up to Angel’s hotel.
“Thanks for the ride, Scott. I’m so sorry about what happened tonight. I hope you two work things out.”
Scott kissed Angel on the cheek. “Don’t blame yourself, Angel. This ain’t noone’s fault, and Marie and I will be OK.”
“I hope so.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I’ll try.”
“Ang?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t cry anymore, huh?”
“Okay.” She managed a little smile to ease his concern. “Keep in touch.”
“You got it.”
------
NOTES:
1) What the heck did Marie do that was all that bad? She punched Angel in the head during a freaking wrestling match and then pulled what basically amounted to a practical joke on Mr. P. I don’t really see why she had to quit her job and change her name. Also … I don’t really blame her for thinking that he and Ang were more than “best friends.” If my husband had a female friend who was as free with the hugs and “light kisses” as Angel, I might be a little suspicious. Then again, if my husband cried as often and as easily as any of my characters, we probably wouldn’t have made it to the altar in the first place.
2) Notice how Marie swears to Scott that he’s been her one and only between the sheets. If we revisit this chapter, we will find that she proclaims herself to be a Jezebel. Was she lying then or is she lying now? Or is this simply further evidence of my ineptitude as a writer? Hmmm. At any rate, any character who hates Angel is a winner in my book. Keep on keepin’ on, Nightshade.
3) The Delgado Hotel? The Cascade Inn? Silver Lake Hotel? Why didn’t anyone ever stay in a Super 8?
COMING UP NEXT …
Angel shares all of her recent troubles with Chris in a sickeningly sweet letter and then confronts Marcus about that crap he pulled in chapter 20. Intrigued? Then join us next time for … Chapter 22: Forgive, but don’t forget.
Showing posts with label debilitating perfume allergy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label debilitating perfume allergy. Show all posts
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Friday, August 15, 2008
Bitter Words, Part II
Bitter Words, Part II
So I basically have two main tropes so far: allergies and crying. I have no idea why. At any rate, I present to you a thrilling sequel that features both!
Bitter Words, Part II:
3 days later
As Mr. Perfect sat in his room opening his mail he started to sneeze. He could hardly stop to take a breath. Fourtunately he sneezed very loudly and Anjel could hear him 2 doors down. She entered his room through his open door.
“My Gosh, I’ve never heard anyone sneeze so much! Are you OK?” she asked
He couldn’t say much. He just kept sneezing. She noticed a trace of perfume in the air and recognized it as her favorite, Tropical Mist. Wait a minute! It was coming from a note on the table. She picked it up and ran into the hall with it. She heard him stop sneezing and tore open the letter. A thought crossed her mind. She was reading someone else’s mail!
She dismissed the thought and read the letter.
“God Bless You” – Hatefully Yours, Nightshade [I drew a crescent moon next to her signature]
She entered Mr. P’s room.
“Are you allright?” she asked. He nodded and she washed her hands.
“It was from Nightshade, wasn’t it?” he asked. She sat down next to him.
“I’m sorry, Mr. P.” said Anjel sympathetically.
He drew in a deep breath and sighed. There was an akward moment of silence. Anjel studied his face for his feeling, but he didn’t show them.
“How’s Marty?” he asked her. “He’s out of the hospital, but he has been acting very, very strange even before the match. He’s never home, he never tells me where he’s going, and comes back exausted and sometimes angry. More than once I’ve noticed some bruises or cuts. When I ask him about it he goes nuts on me!” she told Mr. Perfect [gee, did I drop enough anvils there?] “I just don’t get it anymore” she said
Mr. P. sneezed again. He looked sadder than ever. Poor thing. He’ll never be able to sneeze without thinking of Nightshade. She touched his shoulder. “You can talk to me if you want. It’s probably better for you not to bottle up your feelings. It’s been almost a month. I know how I get when I can’t talk to someone.” she said.
“Well, I’m not you!” he snapped. “I’m sorry Anjel, you know my temper.”
“It’s allright.” she said.
“No, it’s not, I can’t let Nightshade do this to me. After all we meant to each other, she ended our relationship. But it was my fault, too. (He sighs) I never should have said some of those things. I wish I could take it all back. I wish I’d never signed that match. (pause) But wishing won’t get us together. Nothing will. We are through. I loved her, Anjel.” He brushed away his tears, but more came. He stood, ending the touch of Anjel’s comforting arm around his shoulder.
“Are you going to be O.K.?” she asked.
“Yes, Thank you, Anjel.” he said and kissed her cheek.
NOTES
1) Anjel’s head injury must’ve been nearly fatal considering all the hospitalization. My dad had a wicked concussion once from trying to ice skate down our driveway … he spent like 6 hours at the hospital.
2) Don’t worry. You didn’t see the last of that evil vixen, Nightshade. She’s not going to forget about our poor little Mary Sue.
COMING UP NEXT: Chapter 14: A Turn of Events, in which all those Marty anvils hit the floor in a completely ridiculous fashion.
So I basically have two main tropes so far: allergies and crying. I have no idea why. At any rate, I present to you a thrilling sequel that features both!
Bitter Words, Part II:
3 days later
As Mr. Perfect sat in his room opening his mail he started to sneeze. He could hardly stop to take a breath. Fourtunately he sneezed very loudly and Anjel could hear him 2 doors down. She entered his room through his open door.
“My Gosh, I’ve never heard anyone sneeze so much! Are you OK?” she asked
He couldn’t say much. He just kept sneezing. She noticed a trace of perfume in the air and recognized it as her favorite, Tropical Mist. Wait a minute! It was coming from a note on the table. She picked it up and ran into the hall with it. She heard him stop sneezing and tore open the letter. A thought crossed her mind. She was reading someone else’s mail!
She dismissed the thought and read the letter.
“God Bless You” – Hatefully Yours, Nightshade [I drew a crescent moon next to her signature]
She entered Mr. P’s room.
“Are you allright?” she asked. He nodded and she washed her hands.
“It was from Nightshade, wasn’t it?” he asked. She sat down next to him.
“I’m sorry, Mr. P.” said Anjel sympathetically.
He drew in a deep breath and sighed. There was an akward moment of silence. Anjel studied his face for his feeling, but he didn’t show them.
“How’s Marty?” he asked her. “He’s out of the hospital, but he has been acting very, very strange even before the match. He’s never home, he never tells me where he’s going, and comes back exausted and sometimes angry. More than once I’ve noticed some bruises or cuts. When I ask him about it he goes nuts on me!” she told Mr. Perfect [gee, did I drop enough anvils there?] “I just don’t get it anymore” she said
Mr. P. sneezed again. He looked sadder than ever. Poor thing. He’ll never be able to sneeze without thinking of Nightshade. She touched his shoulder. “You can talk to me if you want. It’s probably better for you not to bottle up your feelings. It’s been almost a month. I know how I get when I can’t talk to someone.” she said.
“Well, I’m not you!” he snapped. “I’m sorry Anjel, you know my temper.”
“It’s allright.” she said.
“No, it’s not, I can’t let Nightshade do this to me. After all we meant to each other, she ended our relationship. But it was my fault, too. (He sighs) I never should have said some of those things. I wish I could take it all back. I wish I’d never signed that match. (pause) But wishing won’t get us together. Nothing will. We are through. I loved her, Anjel.” He brushed away his tears, but more came. He stood, ending the touch of Anjel’s comforting arm around his shoulder.
“Are you going to be O.K.?” she asked.
“Yes, Thank you, Anjel.” he said and kissed her cheek.
NOTES
1) Anjel’s head injury must’ve been nearly fatal considering all the hospitalization. My dad had a wicked concussion once from trying to ice skate down our driveway … he spent like 6 hours at the hospital.
2) Don’t worry. You didn’t see the last of that evil vixen, Nightshade. She’s not going to forget about our poor little Mary Sue.
COMING UP NEXT: Chapter 14: A Turn of Events, in which all those Marty anvils hit the floor in a completely ridiculous fashion.
Monday, August 11, 2008
"A Perfect Part of View" Part III
(just tuning in? Hello! Please read the introduction first!)
And now, the exciting conclusion we have all been waiting for ...
“A Perfect Point of View” Part III
[Mr. Perfect has just telephoned Anjel, the font of all wisdom and miraculous advice]
2 rings
Marty: Hello [hooray! Marty has lines!]
Mr. P: Hello, this is Mr. Perfect I need to talk to Anjel.
Marty: Just a sec … [nice while it lasted. Seeya, MJ]
Anjel: Hello
Mr. P: Hi Anjel
Anjel: oh, its great ot hear your voice!
Mr. P: Yeah, you too.
Anjel: Hey, are you OK? You sound really sad. How’s Nightshade?
Mr. P. (voice cracking) She’s just fine.
Anjel: What’s wrong?
Mr. P: I told her, it just slipped out.
Anjel: Told her what?
Mr. P: (shouting) I LOVED HER
Anjel: Sorry.
Mr. P: No, I’m sorry, my short temper got the best of me again.
Anjel: What happened?
Mr. P: She laughed at me.
Anjel: (pause) I guess you’re a little shaken up.
Mr. P: Yeah, that’s an understatement.
Anjel: Take a deep breath (he does) let it out slowly (he does) Feel better?
Mr. P: Yeah, thanks.
Anjel: Ok. Do you know why she laughed?
Mr. P: no, I threw her out before I could explain.
Anjel: oh. Did she seem like she was trying to explain when she left?
Mr. P: I’m not sure (pause) yeah, I think so. I was too mad to let her.
Anjel: I think you should let her come to you.
Mr. P: What if she doesn’t?
Anjel: Give her 2 weeks, if she doesn’t by then, then you should forget about her.
Mr. P: Impossible.
Anjel: Think about it. Will you still loverher [?] in 2 weeks knowing that she could care less that she hurt you?
Mr. P: Probably not. You are always right, Anjel.
Anjel: Aw. Anytime to help a friend. You still sound sad.
Mr. P: (pause) I know.
Anjel: If it helps Mr. P., I love you. [hurl!]
Mr. P: Thanks, Anjel, it does help, and I love you too.
[ugg, this drags on and on .. in an effort to cheer him up, Anjel reminds Mr. P. of that hilarious perfume incident. They laugh like ninnies and he falls over himself to shower her with compliments and then they both hang up. And yes, I actually wrote “CLICK!”]
It turns out that I didn’t have to wait 2 weeks for an apology.
Getting through the Quadfecta meeting was hard. Since my seat was next to N.S.’s. [you have assigned seats?]
“Now Mr. Perfect if anything goes wrong, you have your brass knuckles, right?” asked Slick Ric
“Right, Champ.” I said my voice must have sounded a little miserable because Bobby elbowed me.
“You O.K.?” he whispered
“Female Trouble, I’ll get over it” I whispered back
“And Nightshade, you have your perfume?” asked Ric
“Yes, sir.” she answered
“What scent?” I had to ask
“Palm Springs” she replied, quite surprised I had spoken to her.
“Why” she asked
“I’m allergic to 1 – Tropical Mist” I said with no emotion [ooh, you’ll regret telling her that, Mr. P. Something tells me she comes from the Shawn Michaels school of nefaroiusness]
“Okay, Everybody ready? Let’s go” said Ric Everyone filed out.
NEXT DAY
I was sitting in my room when a knock came on my door. “Who is it?” I asked
“Nightshade.”
“Go away. I don’t want to talk to you.” I told her.
“Please let me in, I … I want to apologize.” she said.
“Allright, come in.”
She walked in wearing a beautiful smile which I did not return.
“Come on now, cheer up!” she said brightly.
“If you came here to do that you can leave.” I told her coldly. Her face became very serious. “Mr. Perfect, I care for you deeply, I don’t’ like to see you this way.” she said.
“You made me this way” I said.
“Oh, I’m so, so sorry. I never meant to make you so sad. It was a mistake, I don’t know why I laughed at you … I’m sorry, not only for that, bur for not loving you. I wish I could, but I can’t, I care about you, and you are a wonderful person, but I’m a jezebel, and I can’t devote myself to you. God, I wish I could.” She said and a tear spilled down her cheek [actually, that sounds a lot like the way I broke up with several boyfriends. Also, I can’t believe I knew the word “jezebel” in 6th grade]
“Aw, come on now, don’t cry. I forgive you.” I told her and gave her my handkerchief [who uses handkerchiefs?]
“Thank you.” She said. She kissed me on my cheek. “I wish I could.” She said before she left.”
[then Mr. P. writes another blasted letter to Anjel. This one is GOLD]
Dear Anjel,
You were right! (as usual) Nightshade apologized to me, although she still doesn’t love me. She said that she was a jezebbel and could never limit herself to 1 man. I just want to thank you again for the phone conversation we had, I think that I would probably would still be depressed 1 year from now if it weren’t for you. And I meant it when I said I love you. I really did. Love means Hates nothing about. And I could never hate anything about you, Anjel. Thank you. [here I wrote and later crossed out “How is Marty?” … poor Marty … ] I miss you. Love, Mr. Perfect.
-------
NEXT DAY
I decided to swing by Nightshade’s to make sure everything was O.K. between us. I knocked on her door but there was no answer.
“Nightshade!” I called, no answer.
I used my spare set of keys to open her door. I saw her lying down, head on the pillow, at first I thought she was unconcious or worse, but then I heard sobbing so I knew she was O.K. – physically that is. [about time we had some egregious crying]
“Nightshade, what’s wrong? Please look at me.” She kept crying. She was getting me worried. “Please I care about you.”
This made her cry harder.
“Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong? Just look at me!” I was getting nowhere.
“Wait.”
“At least now you’re speaking to me.”
“Let’s try again.” I said and sat on her bed.
She lifted her head from the soggy pillow and dabbed her eyes with my handkerchief. Even with her red and puffy eyes and tear-streaked face she was beautiful. I pushed away the black hair sticking to her face. Her lower lip quivered.
“Take a deep breath.” She did. “Let it out slowly.” She did. “Feel Better?” she nodded. (ah, the magic of Anjel!) [HURL!]
“I’ve never loved anybody before. My reputation has seen to that. Date ‘em and forget about them. So when you said that you loved me, well, I thought that you were joking. And It wasn’t until this morning that I realized I loved you too. And now, the only man I’ve ever loved, doesn’t love me any more” she began to cry again.
“Hey, hey, hey. Who said I don’t love you anymore?” I asked her. She looked at me.
“After the way I hurt you?” she asked.
“I forgave you.” I pointed out.
“I know, but …… I couldn’t forgive myself.”
“Please forgive yourself. I love you, Nightshade.”
“I love you, too Mr. P.”
I kissed her – on the lips, mind you.
Notes:
1) Shout out to Marty! Welcome back, man!
2) With all this communication going on, I can’t believe no one sent a telegram in this story.
3) Hey, y’all: Love means Hates nothing about. I actually told my fiancé that last night. Then I kissed him on the lips. He’s a lucky guy.
COMING UP NEXT: “Bitter Words” – in which Ric Flair has a match against Marty Jannetty. Uh Oh! Mr. Perfect manages Ric Flair! Anjel manages Marty! What will happen???
And now, the exciting conclusion we have all been waiting for ...
“A Perfect Point of View” Part III
[Mr. Perfect has just telephoned Anjel, the font of all wisdom and miraculous advice]
2 rings
Marty: Hello [hooray! Marty has lines!]
Mr. P: Hello, this is Mr. Perfect I need to talk to Anjel.
Marty: Just a sec … [nice while it lasted. Seeya, MJ]
Anjel: Hello
Mr. P: Hi Anjel
Anjel: oh, its great ot hear your voice!
Mr. P: Yeah, you too.
Anjel: Hey, are you OK? You sound really sad. How’s Nightshade?
Mr. P. (voice cracking) She’s just fine.
Anjel: What’s wrong?
Mr. P: I told her, it just slipped out.
Anjel: Told her what?
Mr. P: (shouting) I LOVED HER
Anjel: Sorry.
Mr. P: No, I’m sorry, my short temper got the best of me again.
Anjel: What happened?
Mr. P: She laughed at me.
Anjel: (pause) I guess you’re a little shaken up.
Mr. P: Yeah, that’s an understatement.
Anjel: Take a deep breath (he does) let it out slowly (he does) Feel better?
Mr. P: Yeah, thanks.
Anjel: Ok. Do you know why she laughed?
Mr. P: no, I threw her out before I could explain.
Anjel: oh. Did she seem like she was trying to explain when she left?
Mr. P: I’m not sure (pause) yeah, I think so. I was too mad to let her.
Anjel: I think you should let her come to you.
Mr. P: What if she doesn’t?
Anjel: Give her 2 weeks, if she doesn’t by then, then you should forget about her.
Mr. P: Impossible.
Anjel: Think about it. Will you still loverher [?] in 2 weeks knowing that she could care less that she hurt you?
Mr. P: Probably not. You are always right, Anjel.
Anjel: Aw. Anytime to help a friend. You still sound sad.
Mr. P: (pause) I know.
Anjel: If it helps Mr. P., I love you. [hurl!]
Mr. P: Thanks, Anjel, it does help, and I love you too.
[ugg, this drags on and on .. in an effort to cheer him up, Anjel reminds Mr. P. of that hilarious perfume incident. They laugh like ninnies and he falls over himself to shower her with compliments and then they both hang up. And yes, I actually wrote “CLICK!”]
It turns out that I didn’t have to wait 2 weeks for an apology.
Getting through the Quadfecta meeting was hard. Since my seat was next to N.S.’s. [you have assigned seats?]
“Now Mr. Perfect if anything goes wrong, you have your brass knuckles, right?” asked Slick Ric
“Right, Champ.” I said my voice must have sounded a little miserable because Bobby elbowed me.
“You O.K.?” he whispered
“Female Trouble, I’ll get over it” I whispered back
“And Nightshade, you have your perfume?” asked Ric
“Yes, sir.” she answered
“What scent?” I had to ask
“Palm Springs” she replied, quite surprised I had spoken to her.
“Why” she asked
“I’m allergic to 1 – Tropical Mist” I said with no emotion [ooh, you’ll regret telling her that, Mr. P. Something tells me she comes from the Shawn Michaels school of nefaroiusness]
“Okay, Everybody ready? Let’s go” said Ric Everyone filed out.
NEXT DAY
I was sitting in my room when a knock came on my door. “Who is it?” I asked
“Nightshade.”
“Go away. I don’t want to talk to you.” I told her.
“Please let me in, I … I want to apologize.” she said.
“Allright, come in.”
She walked in wearing a beautiful smile which I did not return.
“Come on now, cheer up!” she said brightly.
“If you came here to do that you can leave.” I told her coldly. Her face became very serious. “Mr. Perfect, I care for you deeply, I don’t’ like to see you this way.” she said.
“You made me this way” I said.
“Oh, I’m so, so sorry. I never meant to make you so sad. It was a mistake, I don’t know why I laughed at you … I’m sorry, not only for that, bur for not loving you. I wish I could, but I can’t, I care about you, and you are a wonderful person, but I’m a jezebel, and I can’t devote myself to you. God, I wish I could.” She said and a tear spilled down her cheek [actually, that sounds a lot like the way I broke up with several boyfriends. Also, I can’t believe I knew the word “jezebel” in 6th grade]
“Aw, come on now, don’t cry. I forgive you.” I told her and gave her my handkerchief [who uses handkerchiefs?]
“Thank you.” She said. She kissed me on my cheek. “I wish I could.” She said before she left.”
[then Mr. P. writes another blasted letter to Anjel. This one is GOLD]
Dear Anjel,
You were right! (as usual) Nightshade apologized to me, although she still doesn’t love me. She said that she was a jezebbel and could never limit herself to 1 man. I just want to thank you again for the phone conversation we had, I think that I would probably would still be depressed 1 year from now if it weren’t for you. And I meant it when I said I love you. I really did. Love means Hates nothing about. And I could never hate anything about you, Anjel. Thank you. [here I wrote and later crossed out “How is Marty?” … poor Marty … ] I miss you. Love, Mr. Perfect.
-------
NEXT DAY
I decided to swing by Nightshade’s to make sure everything was O.K. between us. I knocked on her door but there was no answer.
“Nightshade!” I called, no answer.
I used my spare set of keys to open her door. I saw her lying down, head on the pillow, at first I thought she was unconcious or worse, but then I heard sobbing so I knew she was O.K. – physically that is. [about time we had some egregious crying]
“Nightshade, what’s wrong? Please look at me.” She kept crying. She was getting me worried. “Please I care about you.”
This made her cry harder.
“Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong? Just look at me!” I was getting nowhere.
“Wait.”
“At least now you’re speaking to me.”
“Let’s try again.” I said and sat on her bed.
She lifted her head from the soggy pillow and dabbed her eyes with my handkerchief. Even with her red and puffy eyes and tear-streaked face she was beautiful. I pushed away the black hair sticking to her face. Her lower lip quivered.
“Take a deep breath.” She did. “Let it out slowly.” She did. “Feel Better?” she nodded. (ah, the magic of Anjel!) [HURL!]
“I’ve never loved anybody before. My reputation has seen to that. Date ‘em and forget about them. So when you said that you loved me, well, I thought that you were joking. And It wasn’t until this morning that I realized I loved you too. And now, the only man I’ve ever loved, doesn’t love me any more” she began to cry again.
“Hey, hey, hey. Who said I don’t love you anymore?” I asked her. She looked at me.
“After the way I hurt you?” she asked.
“I forgave you.” I pointed out.
“I know, but …… I couldn’t forgive myself.”
“Please forgive yourself. I love you, Nightshade.”
“I love you, too Mr. P.”
I kissed her – on the lips, mind you.
Notes:
1) Shout out to Marty! Welcome back, man!
2) With all this communication going on, I can’t believe no one sent a telegram in this story.
3) Hey, y’all: Love means Hates nothing about. I actually told my fiancé that last night. Then I kissed him on the lips. He’s a lucky guy.
COMING UP NEXT: “Bitter Words” – in which Ric Flair has a match against Marty Jannetty. Uh Oh! Mr. Perfect manages Ric Flair! Anjel manages Marty! What will happen???
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Chapter 10: Two Faces
(just joining us? Hi! Please read the introduction first!)
Chapter 10: “Two Faces”
As I “matured” as a wrestling fan, I started exclusively liking the bad guys (known in wrestling lingo as “heels” – good guys are “faces”). Mr. Perfect soon became my favorite guy. He had stopped wrestling full time and was instead working as Ric Flair’s manager and a color commentator on Prime Time Wrestling, which was the ancestor of Monday Night Raw. (I wrote a poem about it … you’ll get that one of these days). At the time I was writing, Prime Time Wrestling was basically a recap of the week’s matches with a roundtable discussion by Vince McMahon, Hillbilly Jim, Hacksaw Jim Duggan, Mr. Perfect, and Bobby Heenan (best commentator ever). Anyhoo, I knew I had to get Mr. Perfect into the story, but wasn’t sure how to do it … there was no ostensible reason he and Anjel would ever be friends … Marty was a face and he was a heel … they should be natural enemies! So I decided that Mr. Perfect was probably a good guy on the inside, and Anjel would of course bring that out in him.
Enjoy!
“Two Faces”
1 Hr. before ***~~~PRIME TIME WRESTLING~~~***
“We need a replacement for Bobby Heenan” said Vince McMahon. In only an hour!”
“How about Mean Gene?”
“No good. Filming an interview.”
“Sean Mooney?” “Lord Alfred?”
“Day off.”
(Mr. Perfect enters.)
“Where’s Bobby?” he asked, searching for his best friend.
“Sick.”
Mr. Perfect looked concerned. [see the glimmer of good in him? SEE IT?]
“We need a replacement!” repeated Vince. Someone with color, pizzazz!”
“Hey. How about Anjel?” said Hillbilly Jim.
“Great idea! I’ll call her.” said Vince. Mr. Perfect rolled his aqua eyes.
“It’s all set!”
10 minutes later, Anjel arrived.
9:22
Mr. Perfect was making crack after crack at Marty.
“He used him like a doormat!” [OH SNAP!]
Anjel couldn’t take it anymore. She stood up and dumped a pitcher of water on Mr. P’s head. Then she ran to the front of the building and sat on the steps, holding back tears.
Mr. Perfect felt horrible about what he did. He had to apologize. He went outside and sat down next to Anjel he touched her shoulder.
“Anjel. I … I’m really sorry.” he said in as oft, kind voice. One Anjel had never heard him use. She locked eyes with him.
“I didn’t mean to make you mad. I … I just …. I need to let off steam about not having Bobby around and I take it out on you. I don’t know why, but I am very sorry. Please accept my apology.” he said in the same soft voice.
“You’re forgiven. And I’m really sorry I dumped the water on your head. I don’t mind when you poke at me but Marty can’t defend himself if he’s not here!” said Anjel.
Mr. Perfect smiled.
“I deserved the water on my head. It served me ri … ri … ri…” he turned his head and sneezed twice in a row.
“Bless you” said Anjel.
“Thank you” said Mr. Perfect.
“I hope the water didn’t give you a cold. It is freezing out here. I’d feel terrible knowing it was my fault.” said Anjel.
“Let’s go inside. It is cold.” said Mr. Perfect
They entered Prime Time Wrestling during a commercial.
“2 minutes til we’re on” said a stagehand.
Mr. Perfect sneezed again.
“Bless you” said Anjel, handing him a tissue. [does she carry them up her sleeve like various grandmas I know?]
“Thank you” said Mr. Perfect and accepted the tissue.
“You know, you’re a real sweet girl.” said Mr. P.
“A tissue and I am forgiven of all sins!” said Anjel. “At first I thought you were a creep, but you’re a pretty O.K. guy once I got to know you.” she said, smiling. [Yes, they did have a pretty deep, soul-searching conversation out there on the steps.]
11:17 – After the Show
Everyone had gone home except Anjel, who was waiting for Marty to come pick her up and Mr. P., who was talking with her.
“That was really funny when Hacksaw Jim’s 2X4 slid out of his hand and fell behind him.” said Anjel.
“Yeah and when Hillbilly Jim dropped his horseshoe on his foot.” said Mr. P.
[the next 2 pages have smudged a lot. Curse you, devotion to only writing in pencil! At any rate, I’m pretty sure Mr. Perfect sneezes some more, but only when Anjel gets close to him. Mr. P. deduces that he is allergic to her perfume, “Tropical Mist.” She washes it off and everything is fine. Ready for the ending? I am.]
“Good thing you stopped sneezing, I’m out of tissues!” she said.
And they’ve been friends ever since!
Notes:
1) No, seriously, WTF was that? I think I based that on an episode of Gilligan’s Island where everyone sneezed when they came too close to Gilligan because he started wearing some homemade cologne. I evidently found that to be a plot device so compelling/funny/whatever that it had to be revisited in my own oeuvre.
2) I love that Mr. Perfect and Anjel’s intense bonding session mainly consists of her giving him tissues, followed by them having a brief, awkward giggle-fest at the expense of their hapless co-hosts.
3) Remember the name “Tropical Mist” … you haven’t seen the last of this evil potion of sneeze-inducing doom! Continuity was my forte. Usually.
COMING NEXT: “Reunited PT. 2” What will become of Laurie and Brutus? Will Anjel regret meddling in Brutus’ personal life? Will anyone be allergic to anything? Will Marty have any lines? Tune in tomorrow!
Chapter 10: “Two Faces”
As I “matured” as a wrestling fan, I started exclusively liking the bad guys (known in wrestling lingo as “heels” – good guys are “faces”). Mr. Perfect soon became my favorite guy. He had stopped wrestling full time and was instead working as Ric Flair’s manager and a color commentator on Prime Time Wrestling, which was the ancestor of Monday Night Raw. (I wrote a poem about it … you’ll get that one of these days). At the time I was writing, Prime Time Wrestling was basically a recap of the week’s matches with a roundtable discussion by Vince McMahon, Hillbilly Jim, Hacksaw Jim Duggan, Mr. Perfect, and Bobby Heenan (best commentator ever). Anyhoo, I knew I had to get Mr. Perfect into the story, but wasn’t sure how to do it … there was no ostensible reason he and Anjel would ever be friends … Marty was a face and he was a heel … they should be natural enemies! So I decided that Mr. Perfect was probably a good guy on the inside, and Anjel would of course bring that out in him.
Enjoy!
“Two Faces”
1 Hr. before ***~~~PRIME TIME WRESTLING~~~***
“We need a replacement for Bobby Heenan” said Vince McMahon. In only an hour!”
“How about Mean Gene?”
“No good. Filming an interview.”
“Sean Mooney?” “Lord Alfred?”
“Day off.”
(Mr. Perfect enters.)
“Where’s Bobby?” he asked, searching for his best friend.
“Sick.”
Mr. Perfect looked concerned. [see the glimmer of good in him? SEE IT?]
“We need a replacement!” repeated Vince. Someone with color, pizzazz!”
“Hey. How about Anjel?” said Hillbilly Jim.
“Great idea! I’ll call her.” said Vince. Mr. Perfect rolled his aqua eyes.
“It’s all set!”
10 minutes later, Anjel arrived.
9:22
Mr. Perfect was making crack after crack at Marty.
“He used him like a doormat!” [OH SNAP!]
Anjel couldn’t take it anymore. She stood up and dumped a pitcher of water on Mr. P’s head. Then she ran to the front of the building and sat on the steps, holding back tears.
Mr. Perfect felt horrible about what he did. He had to apologize. He went outside and sat down next to Anjel he touched her shoulder.
“Anjel. I … I’m really sorry.” he said in as oft, kind voice. One Anjel had never heard him use. She locked eyes with him.
“I didn’t mean to make you mad. I … I just …. I need to let off steam about not having Bobby around and I take it out on you. I don’t know why, but I am very sorry. Please accept my apology.” he said in the same soft voice.
“You’re forgiven. And I’m really sorry I dumped the water on your head. I don’t mind when you poke at me but Marty can’t defend himself if he’s not here!” said Anjel.
Mr. Perfect smiled.
“I deserved the water on my head. It served me ri … ri … ri…” he turned his head and sneezed twice in a row.
“Bless you” said Anjel.
“Thank you” said Mr. Perfect.
“I hope the water didn’t give you a cold. It is freezing out here. I’d feel terrible knowing it was my fault.” said Anjel.
“Let’s go inside. It is cold.” said Mr. Perfect
They entered Prime Time Wrestling during a commercial.
“2 minutes til we’re on” said a stagehand.
Mr. Perfect sneezed again.
“Bless you” said Anjel, handing him a tissue. [does she carry them up her sleeve like various grandmas I know?]
“Thank you” said Mr. Perfect and accepted the tissue.
“You know, you’re a real sweet girl.” said Mr. P.
“A tissue and I am forgiven of all sins!” said Anjel. “At first I thought you were a creep, but you’re a pretty O.K. guy once I got to know you.” she said, smiling. [Yes, they did have a pretty deep, soul-searching conversation out there on the steps.]
11:17 – After the Show
Everyone had gone home except Anjel, who was waiting for Marty to come pick her up and Mr. P., who was talking with her.
“That was really funny when Hacksaw Jim’s 2X4 slid out of his hand and fell behind him.” said Anjel.
“Yeah and when Hillbilly Jim dropped his horseshoe on his foot.” said Mr. P.
[the next 2 pages have smudged a lot. Curse you, devotion to only writing in pencil! At any rate, I’m pretty sure Mr. Perfect sneezes some more, but only when Anjel gets close to him. Mr. P. deduces that he is allergic to her perfume, “Tropical Mist.” She washes it off and everything is fine. Ready for the ending? I am.]
“Good thing you stopped sneezing, I’m out of tissues!” she said.
And they’ve been friends ever since!
Notes:
1) No, seriously, WTF was that? I think I based that on an episode of Gilligan’s Island where everyone sneezed when they came too close to Gilligan because he started wearing some homemade cologne. I evidently found that to be a plot device so compelling/funny/whatever that it had to be revisited in my own oeuvre.
2) I love that Mr. Perfect and Anjel’s intense bonding session mainly consists of her giving him tissues, followed by them having a brief, awkward giggle-fest at the expense of their hapless co-hosts.
3) Remember the name “Tropical Mist” … you haven’t seen the last of this evil potion of sneeze-inducing doom! Continuity was my forte. Usually.
COMING NEXT: “Reunited PT. 2” What will become of Laurie and Brutus? Will Anjel regret meddling in Brutus’ personal life? Will anyone be allergic to anything? Will Marty have any lines? Tune in tomorrow!
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