DESPERATE HOUSEHUSBANDS CHAPTER 8, PART 1- Evening descends on Sandbar Avenue with the warmth of the day fading into the comforting coolness of the twilight. All seems quiet, but its one of the silences you get right after you tell a guy you missed something this month and you need to get an EPT. Something is going to happen and its going to be uncomfortable, good or bad. But absolutely uncomfortable. At the home of Q-bone, Rufus is settling the children in for dinner. "Alright you little monsters! You sit in your seats, keep your napkins on your laps and use your utensils and nobody gets hurt. CAPISH?!?! Nobody messes with Rufus." The children all nod vigorously, having learned just from being around her one afternoon that she has a manner that would put R. Lee Ermy to shame. They all start digging in to their Spinich Lasagna, none able to look Rufus in the eye and say they don't like spinich. Rufus taps her toes, sips some water, and glares at the ones who don't seem to be eating with enough gusto. Meanwhile on the road to Wine country Q-bone is trying to get Matt into the swing of things. "See Matt, the difference is that Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon are types of grapes that lend their names to the varieties of red wine. Here in the United States, wines are typically named after the grape that produces them. In contrast, Europeans usually refer to wines by the location where they are grown, such as a Bordeaux wine. Now, Cabernet Sauvignon is marked by plum, currant and black cherry flavors and firm tannins. The Cabernet Sauvignon produces a complex, elegant, and strong-bodied wine that ages with grace. Its wine-alicious! The soft and fruity Merlot grape is sweeter, smoother, and lower in tannins. This means it blends well with other grapes and is ready to drink at a younger age. Ah...savor the youth!" Matt stares at Q-bone for a minute. "Which will get me drunk quicker?" Q-bone sighs, shakes his head and mumbles, "We gotta get you some sword-polish." He bumps the cruise control up another 10kph. Faster, he thinks, faster. Back on Sandbar Avenue, Hakeedohn wakes up in his den. He wonders how he fell asleep sitting up as he usually can't fall asleep any other way than laying down. The splitting headache he is having impinges on his awareness next. As he opens his eyes, however he figures out how he slept sitting up. He is wrapped like King Tut in duct tape and bound with it to a kitchen chair. Well...son of a gun, he thinks. How did this happen? "Lil' Miss! He's awake! Should I conk him again?" worries Brinna. "Just leave him for now, Brinna. And let me finish this phone call." Lil Miss finishes dialing. After two rings a man's voice answers. "Yes?" "This is Lil' Miss. We have a problem," she tells the voice. "Wait there for Mr. Slick. Do nothing until he gets there." The phone clicks. "Damn," Lil' Miss says. "We need to lay low for a bit. Watch the front for anyone coming here. But for Pete's sake, don't hit anybody without checking with me!" Brinna nods absently and goes to peek out the front windows. She clutches a marble replica statuette of "The Thinker" more tightly in her hands. TO BE CONTINUED...............................................

Woot! Now that's how you tell a story!! Nom, you put my writing talents to shame. I'm always in such a rush to move the story forward, I don't take enough time to bathe the reader in descriptive narration and thoughtful prose. You're awesome! :razz:

I don't care what Pika says...you're not awesome until you bring me back into the story! :evil: :razz:

Am I even in this one..I dont remember. I know I was a skating Queen in the other one...I wonder if that one will be renewed too? Hint Hint Hint!

CHAPTER 8: Part 2 Pika is relaxing on her couch, clad in an oversize t-shirt and a smile. She is not paying much attention to the evening news but thinking back to earlier at the gas station... Earlier- "$7.00 on gas and .89 plus tax on the Pepper comes to $8.07, Hon...uh...Miss...uh...Ma'am," stutters out Idolfan as he rips his gaze off Pika's assets and back onto his register. "The price of things just keeps going up, don't it Sweetie!" exclaims Pika. She pulls a wad of twenties out from their hiding place in her bustier. Idolfan begins sweating as he takes the one she peels off for him and counts her change back to her. Pillows, he thinks. Fluffy pillows. Ah, what napping on pillows like that would be like! Pika reaches across the counter and pushes up Idolfan's chin until he looks her in the eyes. "Sweetie. You really gotta learn not to think out loud." She stuffs her money back in her hiding place, grabs her Dr. Pepper and chugs it down. She belches loudly and saunters out the door. "Fluffy Pillows!" she giggles as she straddles her Harley and brings it roaring to life. Idolfan watches her go with a mixture of embarrassment and longing. "Pillows! I want some Pillows!", he whispers. Suddenly a blue Porche Boxter pulls into the station and up to Pika's Harley. "Hey there! Nice bike! I'm super-jealous! Say, you see a van around here with the custom licence plate that reads 'CWDB'?" Pika raises an eyebrow at the immaculately-dressed, gorgeously-tressed woman driving the convertible. "Thanks, I guess. It's a good bike. Nice pants." She returns admiring the tight leather pants the woman is wearing. "What? These old things? I just threw them on in a hurry to chase down a friend of mine. She's supposed to be down here somewhere on a job interview or something. Anyway, I really need to find her. There's a crisis!" Pika thinks to herself, Crisis my fanny! What? You run out of eyeliner?, but carefully maintaining her poker face before the perfectly made-up woman, she says, "I think I might have seen it back in the neighbourhood back there." She waves in the vague direction of Sandbar Avenue. "Thanks so much!" Her Grace gushes. "Kiss-kiss!" she shouts as she revs her Boxter back onto the street and heads up the street. Back in her apartment, Pika chuckles to herself as she relaxes on her sofa. She hears the shower in the bathroom shut off. She grins to herself. She's gonna get a little "Kiss-kiss" any minute now. Suddenly a cell-phone on the endtable begins playing "Bad Reputation" by The Reverend Horton Heat. A muffled voice in the bathroom yells, "I'll get it." A dripping man with a beach-towel wrapped around his slim waist comes sprinting into the living room. He flips the phone open. Pika listens to one side of a conversation. "Slick here." "Right. Address?" "I'll be there in fifteen minutes." He closes the phone. "Sorry, Babe. Duty calls," says Jimmy Slick. "But Sweetie..." Pika pouts. "I want you. Damnit, I want you now!" She stretches her legs so that the t-shirt rides up higher revealing all her legs. "Why do you have to go now?" She thrusts out her formidable chest. The highbeams are on. "Hey! You remember our deal. I don't ask where you go or why and you don't ask me. I have to go. I'll be back whenever I finish." With that he turns and jogs down the hall, pulling the towel from around his waist to dry his hair. Pika watches his naked buttocks disappear into the bedroom. Well, F*@#!! she thinks in frustation. She decides to order some pizza. And if the pizza delivery guy is cute, she might be tempted to pay him two ways. She'd only hooked up with Jimmy a few weeks back. Damn it was fun...but the mysterious nature of the man was driving her to distraction! And she really wanted to get some action tonight. A good day of yardwork always made her horny as hell! Jimmy Slick came striding back up the hall. Dressed in a grey suit with solid black shirt and grey tie and wearing Italian, black leather loafers, he grabbed his phone blew a kiss a Pika and headed out the door. "Bastard," mutters Pika. "Pizza it is then. Where's that number?" Meanwhile back on Sandbar Avenue, Darstar and Bookie are peering through the curtains of Darstar's front windows. They are peering intently at the house across the street, where an oblivious Jayusmagnus is busy making dinner and waiting for his wife to return home from work, thoughts of his latest yard worker dancing seductively in his head. To be continued...

:shock: The rating on this story has gone from PG13 to R all of a sudden. This story was started a year ago on the 18th...just sayin' :smile:

Yeah, Nom de Plume seems to be channeling Missy a bit. :lol:

Bravo, Nom de Plume! *eagerly anticipating, impatiently on edge of seat on pins and needles with baited breathlessness, the next chapter*

hmmm Jay me thinks gettig tossed out will be the least of your problems :wink: They are peering intently at the house across the street, where an oblivious Jayusmagnus is busy making dinner and waiting for his wife to return home from work, thoughts of his latest yard worker dancing seductively in his head.

DESPERATE HOUSEHUSBANDS, CHAPTER 9 - Part 1 Up in the Wine Country - Ruca is serving an older couple two glasses of Tinhorn Creek Winery Merlot. The older gentleman runs a finger across his mustache as he peeks down the top of the peasant blouse that gapes open a bit as she bends over the table to deposit the glasses. As she walks away from the table, Ruca rolls her eyes at Princess Poopypants across the room. Princess P. gives her a "What can you do about it?" shrug and hands wine lists to a foursome of ladies who are debating the relative merits of Late Harvest Kerner versus Late Harvest Muscat Ottonel. The wine-maid outfit is the wine-maid outfit. It was designed to look rustic and to draw guys' attention. Whatever, thinks Ruca. At least it pays better than Hooters. Q-bone and his friend still haven't shown up and with only a little over an hour until their shift ends, Ruca is a little worried, and a little miffed. Where are they? 3 miles from the winery - Q-bone is swearing as he puts the last lug nut on the tire. Sword-swallowing wheel had to have a flat practically in sight of the damn Winery! Matt is looking on morosely, which isn't much different from the way he always looks. Flat tires are just another way the universe is out to get him. Q-bone finishes the tire and lowers the van down on the jack. "Right! Let's get moving. We can still catch the girls at the Winery and get in a little tasting before we hit the town for some dinner!" Q-bone rubs the dust from his hands enthusiastically. "Whatever you say," Matt replies. "My friend," Q-bone answers, "a couple of glasses of 2004 White Meritage blend of Sauvignon Blanc and Semillon will not only tantalize your taste buds but put a smile on your face." "Will it give me a buzz?" "Yes, it will give you a freakin' buzz!" Q-bone huffs. They slip into Q-bone's custom van and he puts the pedal to the floor. God, I need to get some wine into this boy, Q-bone thinks. Meanwhile back on Sandbar Avenue - Stillbrad is manuvering his wheelchair into the dining room. The smell of meatloaf fills the room. Stillbrad is ravenous after completing wheelie exercises, and dragging the chair up and down the main stairs 4 times. As he pulls up to the table he stares at the plate in front of him. Salad. With fat-free dressing. He looks at Trulysapphire across the table where her plate is steaming from the meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, steamed broccoli, and fresh roll. She looks at the pouty-faced Stillbrad. "DON'T YOU GIVE ME THAT POUTY-LIP, YOU LAYABOUT! YOU KNOW GOOD AND WELL YOU'VE GAINED 3 POUNDS SINCE YOU FELL OFF THAT ROOF AND ENDED UP IN THAT CHAIR!! UNTIL YOU GET THOSE CASTS OFF YOU HAVE TO WATCH WHAT YOU EAT MORE, FATTY!!! IT'S A GOOD THING YOU HAVE ME TO WATCH OUT FOR YOU OR YOU'D TURN INTO THE BLOB BEFORE YOU COULD WALK AGAIN!!!! AND FOR ANOTHER THING YOU AREN'T TAKING ANYMORE ROOFING JOBS, YOU UTTER KLUTZ!!!!! WHY YOU THINK I HAVE TIME TO TAKE OFF WORK TO NURSE YOU TO HEALTH IS A MYSTERY!!!!!! SO YOU JUST EAT WHAT YOU HAVE AND BE THANKFUL THAT YOU HAVE SOMEONE WHO IS SO DEVOTED AND CARING FOR YOUR HEALTH AND WELLBEING, YOU NINNY!!!!!!!!" shrieks Trulysapphire. "Yes, dear," replies Stillbrad. Only 2 more hours until "So You Think You Can Dance?" There were going to be some hotties on there tonight, he was sure. Across the street in Darstar's house - Young Phil is getting a little antsy. The ladies have ignored him ever since they got back from chasing all over town. He sits on the hot-pink leather sofa and listens to their conversation, but he's beginning to worry that maybe he should just give all this up as a bad deal and head on home. He stands up and approaches the ladies as they peer out the front windows, hiding behind the curtains. "It's getting kinda late. If you ladies don't mind I think I might head out, okay?" Bookie looks back at young Phil. The hunkie young man's looks and his politeness mixed with her righteous indignation at her husband's antics have her blood boiling. "How about you stay for dinner, okay?" Her tone makes it more of an order than a question. "Well, ok-k-kay," stammers Phil. Bookie nods to Darstar. "Hey, Dar, how about you show Opie here how your little empire runs while I watch the front for a minute." "Gotcha, Sis!" says Darstar with a grin. She takes young Phil by the hand and leads him down the hall. "You didn't know you were in the middle of an empire, did ya?" "No Ma'am," Phil meekly replies. They reach a door at the end of the hall which Darstar throws open with gusto. "Welcome to 'Madame Chaos' Studios'!" Phil stares in wide-eyed wonder. The room is dominated by a huge four-poster bed covered in black satin sheets. Stand lights, off now, are pointed toward the bed and there are several video cameras around the room, some on shelves, and a couple on tripods. Phil eyes the bed in particular. He notes the chains attached to rings around the posters and then warily notes the rack of whips, prods, ropes, handcuffs and other less easily categorized material to the side. He takes a step away from Darstar. "Yes, indeed. Heart of an empire! Why our last title, 'Madame Chaos's Bondage for Beginners' sold 25,000 units! My Zoltan the Merciless is not only a great stud, but he can act like the best submissive in the business! Oooo...and an act it is because he's nearly as manly as they come. Hmmm...ya know kid, you could probably do alright yourself in this biz. Ya ever want to act?" Phil goggles at her open-mouthed. Darstar laughs out loud, which she does alot. "It's alright kid, don't worry. It's not like I'm gonna attack ya." She laughs out loud, again. "My Zoltan is plenty man enough for me! Oooo! Speaking of man enough, I need to get rid of this, " and she reaches into the cleavage between 'Darstar' and 'Chaos' and pulls out the best of Michaelangelo's David which she had stuck there for safekeeping earlier. She hefts the impressive chunk a couple of times and places it on a shelf with a wide variety of marital aids. Phil takes another step back. "Well, kid, ya wanna take a look at our titles?" offers Darstar. "Ummm-mmm-mmma-mmmmma," stammers Phil. "I'll take that as a 'Yes,'" says Darstar laughing out loud. And she leads him toward another room. Meanwhile at the front of the house Bookie watches as a Porsche Boxter pulls up behind the van parked in front of Q-bone's house next door. Right after she sees a black Lexus pull up in Hakeedohn's driveway. Where are all these people getting cars like these! Bookie wonders. She thinks about asking for a raise at the library. And she continues watching her house carefully. I know that good-for-nothing of a husband, Jayusmagnus, is up to something, she thinks. To be continued...

Woo, this story's getting hot!! I'm wondering when someone's going to end up getting knocked off or knocked up. :twisted:

LOL poor Bradley. Poor Phil :lol: :lol: Jay, you're turn is coming yet :wink: :twisted: :twisted: :lol: :lol: :lol: