A Handshake Precedes an Indecent Request – Part 3 – GRAND FINALE!

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Mr. Huerto grabbed Marie by the arm just before she reached the front door. “You’re going nowhere!”

“Let me go!”

“No!” He screamed. “Not until you explain yourself. Did you marry me for my money, expecting to take it and marry Joe after he returned from prison?”

She squirmed. “Joe, help me!”

Joe shook his head. “Tell the man, Marie.”

Marie shrugged her arm free. “Fine.” She let out a breath. “Yeah, maybe I did. Maybe I thought it would be the ultimate surprise for Joe when he got out. I loved him!”

“Loved?” said Joe.

She looked at Mr. Huerto, and rubbed his shoulder. “But something happened! I actually fell in love with you along the way! I don’t just want your money, I want you!”

“What about me?” Said Joe.

“Well… I still care about you! But things change! You’ve been gone for so long, Joe! What did you expect? How could you not think things would change?”

Joe grew teary eyed. “That whole time in prison, I served that sentence for you… for us!”

“Well what about me!” Cried Mr. Huerto. “I’m the true victim in all this! To think I’ve been duped, like some kind of idiot!”

“You weren’t duped!” Said Marie. “I love you! You’re my husband!”

“I”m a mockery! Our marriage is a complete sham!”

“No! It only started out that way!” Said Marie.

The door swung open, and Billy the butler rocketed in. “Good heavens!” He said, in a gasp. “What’s going on here? Who are you?” He said to Joe.

“That’s Joe,” said Mr. Huerto. “Fresh from prison.”

Billy the butler gasped again, and ran straight to Mr. Huerto. He hugged both arms around his neck. “Intruder! Don’t touch my man!”

Marie and Joe both gasped.

“Your man?” said Joe.

Mr. Huerto dropped his gaze and scratched the back of his head. He spoke solemnly. “Yes, I’m afraid it’s true.”

“What?” Said Marie, with a sniff.

“Me and Billy the butler.” He hardly managed to look back to her. “We’re in love.”

Marie slapped Billy the butler in the chest, and then he slapped her back. They both engaged in fit of wrist flickings, until Joe held Marie back.

“So our marraige IS a sham!” Cried Marie.

“Yes, but darling!” Said Mr. Huerto. “This can all be fixed!”

“How?” She said. “How can all this be fixed?”

Mr. Huerto shrugged. “Well… we can just stay married, and Joe can live here. Come night time, I’ll sleep with Billy the butler, and you can sleep with Joe.”

Everyone else shrugged as well.

An hour later, they sat before the television set, watching a feel-good movie by the fireplace. Mr. Huerto kissed Billy the butler on the cheek, and Joe kissed Marie on the lips.

“One big happy family,” said Mr. Huerto.

“I guess so,” said Joe, before winking to Marie. “We’re gonna go grab some more popcorn from the kitchen. We’ll be quick.”

As Joe and Marie walked hand and hand to the other room, Billy the butler turned and called out to them over shoulder.

“So will we!”

Everyone laughed extra laughingly.

THE END

– Thomas M. Watt

The Taste of Tainted Lips

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“Oh, Big Steve! Keep bouncin’ that ass Big Steve! Oh- Greg? Is that you? SHIT!”

The pan was already searing hot by the time Greg cracked his first egg and dropped it on. Almost instantaneously, the egg sizzled from translucent to white. Eyes weary, he used a fork to scramble it as he cracked then added a second. He thought back to the afternoon before, and let out a breath.

Darlene entered the kitchen. She caught his eyes and buttoned her lips, then shifted her weight to one side and shook her head.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” said Greg.

Darlene sighed. “Babe if you just let me-”

“I said I don’t wanna fucking talk about it!” Said Greg, zinging the fork into the white plaster wall.

“But babe.” Darlene moved to his side. “We need to discuss it, that’s all.”

Greg returned his attention to the eggs, fuming through his nostrils as he stared bleakly into them.

“Babe?”

Picking up the iron pan by the handle, Greg lifted it high overhead before slamming it back down into the stove top. “Dammit Darlene, what do you want from me? What do you want me to say?” His chest heaved up and down for five heavy breaths, but she issued no response. “I mean, c’mon babe! How the fuck is talkin’ about it gonna make things better? Let’s be real here, you and me-”

“What about you and me?”

Greg shook his head. He picked up some of the scrambled egg remnants, turned his back to Darlene then flicked them into the sink. He turned the faucet on and ran his hands underneath the water stream. “We’re fuckin’ over. I mean, shit.” He gulped. “You know it, I know it. I ain’t gonna heal from this sort’a thing.”

“Well you could if you try! It was a mistake, I admit it-”

“I DON’T CARE!” Greg was surprised to find himself on the verge of laughter, even as his heart sank into his stomach. “Baby, put yourself in my shoes for a second. I come home, from a hard days work, lookin’ a grab a cold beer, maybe sit on the couch, watch the game for a little bit.” Flapping his arms up into the air and gazing towards the ceiling, Greg continued. “Lo and behold, I walk in on my girl messin’ around with Big Steve the professional fly-swatter-guy. I mean shit, Darlene! What the fuck kinda job is that, even? FLY SWATTER? You know you could just buy the equipment for about four bucks or something.”

“It was a big fly, babe, and  I already told you, I made a mistake.”

Greg put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “A mistake would’a been kissin’ him. Maybe even sleepin’ with him. But dammit babe, I walk in to see the guy sittin’ on your face in my bedroom, shit! I don’t know whether I should be more mortified, repulsed, angry or just weirded out! I’m out their bustin’ my tail everyday, and for what? To come home and see Big Steve over here gettin’ rim-jobs about two feet from my pillow?”

Darlene sighed, then came closer. “You know that I love you, Greg,”

Greg shrugged. “I mean, not exactly.”

“Aren’t you gonna say it back?”

“I don’t know, I’m pretty sure I don’t feel like sayin’ it back.”

“You’re really going to hold this little tiny mistake against me?”

“Babe,” Greg shook his head, threw a dish-towel down, then started away. “Just think about what’s gonna run through my head every time I gotta kiss you, and there’s your answer.”

THE END

– Thomas M. Watt