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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago
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I wouldn't be at all surprised if the conversation went something along the lines of this:
(after a good few minutes of wantion fucking)
Dominique: Wow, Wayne, that was um .. nice... am I going to see you again?
Wayne: um.. not shure, I got a bird already. It was nice though. Let me shleep on it, k?
(He nods off, she sits there staring at him, simpering inside)
So you got a girlfriend huh! Well, let's see what she thinks of this! Nice back by the way, reminds me of my art project I gotta get ready.
She reaches for a stanley knife she just happens to have lying next to the bed alongside her pliers (good job he didn't snore eh, or she'd have had his teeth out too!)
...Slight aside here... do you think she is an apprentice electrician?.. or maybe she just finished reading 'Dr. Mengele, How I Did It!'
She nods off after completing her work of art.
Now this is where I am a bit confused here. She knows what she's just done to him is going to make him a little bit pissed off, and that he may wake up and rip her arm off and beat her to death with it, yet she still nods off blissfully mext to him, soaked in blood.
He wakes up, scratches his arse (as most men do), he looks across at her and thinks, hmmm, that was was nice let's do it agai... hold on a sec, my fucking arm hurts!... and my back, and my shoulder... wtf!
He sees the blood everywhere, he notices the blood-soaked stanley knife and her book of Cutting-by-numbers lying on the floor and, puzzled, goes to the bathroom to look in the mirror.
Now, guys, you'll bear me out on this one.
The one thing you would NOT do is quietly get dressed and leave.
Some form of dialogue, probably followed by a small smattering of violence, like a punch in the fooking gob, would have been the absolute minimum required I think.
There's more to this story than meets the eye methinks. |
its in the sun so u know its true lol