Chapter 10
| The Story | The Authors |
|---|---|
| But alas, apparently he had been oversexed by the Madame and her vigorous whores...instead of thinking about making love to his woman, all he was thinking about was turning on the t.v. and watching Monday Night Football. | |
| "That's It!" he thought, "I'll fantasize about football while I pleasure her!" He then got her to go down on all fours, and started nailing her doggie style while pretending he was a QB waiting for a snap. He was so into his fantasy though, that he yelled "Hut, hut, hut!" at the top of his lungs. "What the hell...you're fantasizing about football, aren't you?" she angrily inquired. "Uh...well...ummm....Damn! Okay, I can't lie. It was the only way I could get in the mood...I'm so sorry, honey!" "well," she said, "In keeping with your fantasy, try this." He was felled instantly by a vicious kick to the balls, whereupon she raised her arms and screamed "It's good...three ponts!" | |
| And she sat there watching as his nutsack grew to the size of a small casaba. It turned an ugly hue of orange and purple before he let out his final moan. Collapsing in a heap of sweaty flesh, he died. | |
| ....She then looked down at her feet and realized that in the heat of passion she had forgotten to kick off her pointy toed stilletto heeled shoes. She shrugged it off as an unfortunate mistake, and began to collect her clothes so she could get dressed and leave before someone discovered them. "Still," she thought, "It seems like a shame to waste a nutsack the size of a small casaba..." | |
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That thought quickly vanished when she suddenly heard someone in the outer
office. Brushing back her hair she tried to make herself look as unruffled as
possible....No one must ever know...
Still feeling the intense moment she.... | |
| walked in, still trying to look unruffled... | |
|
It was her mantra. Try to look unruffled, she'd say to herself over and over
again when she was nervous or unsure of herself. Unfortunately, as much as she
tried, she always appeared ruffled. Her friends noticed it all the time but
didn't want to mention it to her because of her fragile psyche. So she
continued under the delusion that if she could just think about looking
unruffled, she would actually look unruffled. What she didn't know was that
seeing the person on the outside her office was going to completely unravel her and she had no mantra for trying not to look unraveled. | |
| She walked out of her office, determined to put on a facade and fool everyone into thinking nothing was wrong. Just then, she looked up and saw the last person she ever would have expected. "You!" She shrieked. "What are you doing here? Why are you here? How..." Before he had a chance to reply, she became unglued. Shaking her fist at the heavens, she screamed "I have no mantra for this! Damn you, damn you to hell!" Violently shoving the mysterious man out of the way, she bolted out of the building. Who was this mysterious stranger, why did he provoke such a crazed reaction, and more importantly, would he discover the dead man in her office? | |
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Lully had always found herself able to think with an almost superhuman clarity
in times of great stress, and this certainly was such a time. Veiling herself
and wrapping her body in a dusty, shapeless djellabah left in the bridal
chambers by that lazy, filthy Druse cleaning-woman Aben insisted on keeping.
Lully could smell the woman's sharp octegenarian scent among the folds of cheap
Nubian cotton; a swirling, almost nauseating blend of mutton, camphor and
hemmorrhoid-lotion that suddenly amde her think of her own grandmother. But of
course! If anyone could help Lully out of this pickle it was her beloved Ni-ni.
She raced out into the darkened street, where revellers from her and Aben's
wedding were yet rolling in the gutters, flaunting both the nine p.m. curfew
and Allah's injunctions against drunkenness. One, not recognizing her, grabbed
her ankle hard. His eyes shone starlike with alcohol and his words came
stumbling out head-over-heels in a slurred. muddy deluge:
"You wanna wanna, I mean, honey, I got a, you know how beeg, babybaby, beeg as the beegest zucchini you ever see, you know, hahaha I give you like it long and the whole night, bumpsen-bumpsen uhn!, wanna, eh-eh?, baby, take me, take me home and -- AND MAKE ME LIKE EET!" She shuddered as if Evil itself had run a bony talon down the nape of her neck; then kicked him hard, twice, once in the hairy paunch protruding from his soiled dashiki and once in the throat; he let go her ankle with swinelike wiik-wiik-wiik and rolled over to heave up the contents of his stomach into the gutter. She could smell the sour wine smell as she turned out of the alley into Suleiman's Lane. Who'd invited him? Cursed freeloaders... And yet, the whole hushed-rushed way to her grandmother's her mind despite herself returned to the bum's drunken come-on again and again... Beeg as the beegest zucchini you ever see... Bet his wife enjoyed her wedding-night, she sniffed to herself... But there was no time for self-pity. Her very life depended on this -- if there were not a bridal sheet hanging out there window the following morning, and if that sheet were not stained with a great red fiery blot of her hymenal blood girdling the embroidered hole in its center, proving to the whole town that she before God had gone to the altar a virgin and was now as much a wife as any woman, then she must go before the executioner and receive the fate befalling all shameless hussies in that country -- public torture and death... And after all the precautions she'd taken to restore that long-lost maidenhead of hers, such that Casanova himself would not have known her to be anything but virginal... For what? For this? Whom had she married? Who did he think he was? Why had she let herself get into this mess?.... But then already her tiny wizened Nini was opening the door of her tiny house at the end of Fomalhaut Alley, looking her shrewdly up and down and reading in Lully's face what had thus far conspired in the marriage of Aben and her granddaughter... And with a wrinkled, shushing finger at her lips and a wink glinting with the all silent conspiracy of women, she led Lully into the darkness of the house. |
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