Monday Massacres:Upgrade

By • Nov 9th, 2010 • Category: Monday Massacres

These came in late, so sponsors were reluctant to do the necessary. But no love lost. Yet.

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Meet girl. (Enter girl, skipping happily along, sucking on a lollipop, twiddling her pigtails, straightening her plaid skirt). She is a good girl (I’m sure the pigtails gave that away but had to be sure we are on the same page). Girl is independent (which means that when she’s skipping, she holds the rope herself). She skips, she skips, happily along the village path. Skip. Skip. Occasionally, in spite of herself, she bursts into heavy song. Waily, out-of-tune song. Like Rihanna. But song nonetheless. She skips. Skips.

Meet boy. Strong. Blue eyes. Brown hair. Straight jaw. (The straight writer rules only allow me to go that far in describing a guy. I’m sorry eager young lady reading this. Email me and we’ll get into…oh, ethical writer rules prohibit that too.) Yes, boy, Straight jaw. There he is, being a boy. Just there. Chilling. Doing what boys do. Chill. Thinking about the village’s problems and how to solve them. He is deep in thought.So deep, he doesn’t notice lollipop-sucking, pigtail-having skipping girl skip his way. Skip. Deep thinking. Skip. Deep thinking. (Slow motion as the two bodies are headed for collision. Will they survive? Will they? Let’s wait and see). Skip. Deep thinking.

Collision.

He stands up first. Oh God what have I done? He touches her chest. Touches it more. And one more time. Oh no, oh no. He touches it again. Finally, she moves. One arm. She slowly opens her eyes. And she sees him peering down at her, anxiously. And at that very instant, she falls in love. (Insert soapy soundtrack, falling candy, a rainbow and some dancing elves).

He wastes no time. He picks her up and rushes her to his place. Very quickly. He lays her on the bed. And begins to touch her again. He touches her and she responds. He touches some more. The swelling reduces. Finally, he puts the medicinal cloth down, and stops touching her. The swelling, it is gone. She stands up to leave, but he stops her. He asks her to lay still for a while. She says she must go, she has to keep skipping. Where is my rope? She asks. And where is my lollipop? Also, she asks, all the time looking around and loving his abode. And they start to talk. About life. About the village. About contraception. About world peace. About religion. About conception.

And when it’s time to leave, she goes and picks some clothes and comes right back. And they talk some more. About other things.  And then she starts to rearrange his house. And he comes home to find pink towels. And mauve plates. And face-towels. And hand-wash. And those frilly little things that have no name, the ones they put in the sitting room, even those ones, he finds them at home. And she buys him a frilly shirt. And he has to wear it to their walk in the park. And his brain starts to die, bit by bit.

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