There's gonna be a meter on your bed, that will disclose...
“I killed a man today,” said Lucy to Luke.
“How?”
“I ploughed my van into him. He died before he knew what happened.”
Luke noted this important anecdote.
“I killed a man today,” said Luke to Lucy.
“How?”
“Many years ago in primary school I had a reputation for tree-climbing. I could scale the tallest trees the fastest, and as a 10-year-old this meant a great deal to both me and my peers. But on one Tuesday lunchtime a new girl named Katherine Snyder beat me up the oak by the basketball courts by a branch and a half. From that day forth I had a tragic and beautiful crush on her, and as we went through school she became a staggeringly good looking and very popular woman. As a result, what I felt for her never developed into anything that you might loosely call a relationship.
But then I went into lecture my class on post-Kantian thinking a few weeks ago, and she was at the university administration applying for some sort of short course in Intermediate Accounting. So I naturally went over and struck up some semblance of conversation, and it led to us having lunch under an oak not dissimilar to the loss of my childhood. I felt compelled to remark upon this, and as mature adults I thought the topic of my prepubescent longing wouldn’t disturb her a great deal. Anyway, we found out we had a lot in common, and that she’d always thought I was likewise an attractive member of our species, so I arranged to have dinner with her, as you must have gathered by now Lucy, last night.”
“Oh I wondered where you were.”
“I don’t doubt it. Anyway, dinner lead to drinks and drinks lead to licking drinks off each other and I daresay you can imagine the only place that leads to, which it certainly did, six times in eight different rooms actually. And it was not until that sixth time, in that eighth room (the lounge), that I noticed a family portrait photograph which indicated she was at one time in possession of a man who gave her a child. Inquiring into this I found she maintained possession of him, except for a week now and again where he became the possession of his golf buddies in Scotland.”
“And he found you?”
“Oh heavens no! We finished up, drank some more, lounged naked and flopped over each other a little, and then I came back here. Just now actually. The point is, in what I assume will be between nine and fifteen years, the force of his wife’s infidelities will hit him, and the shock of not the action, but the shame of his own similar actions (ha! Golf! ) and their mutual inability to satisfy each other or even admit to each other their grand lacking, will drive him to an inevitable suicide. Probably by jumping in front of a van or something.”
Lucy sipped some red wine.
“I kill people much quicker than you, Luke”
“Yes, Lucy, but I certainly do kill them better.”
“How?”
“I ploughed my van into him. He died before he knew what happened.”
Luke noted this important anecdote.
“I killed a man today,” said Luke to Lucy.
“How?”
“Many years ago in primary school I had a reputation for tree-climbing. I could scale the tallest trees the fastest, and as a 10-year-old this meant a great deal to both me and my peers. But on one Tuesday lunchtime a new girl named Katherine Snyder beat me up the oak by the basketball courts by a branch and a half. From that day forth I had a tragic and beautiful crush on her, and as we went through school she became a staggeringly good looking and very popular woman. As a result, what I felt for her never developed into anything that you might loosely call a relationship.
But then I went into lecture my class on post-Kantian thinking a few weeks ago, and she was at the university administration applying for some sort of short course in Intermediate Accounting. So I naturally went over and struck up some semblance of conversation, and it led to us having lunch under an oak not dissimilar to the loss of my childhood. I felt compelled to remark upon this, and as mature adults I thought the topic of my prepubescent longing wouldn’t disturb her a great deal. Anyway, we found out we had a lot in common, and that she’d always thought I was likewise an attractive member of our species, so I arranged to have dinner with her, as you must have gathered by now Lucy, last night.”
“Oh I wondered where you were.”
“I don’t doubt it. Anyway, dinner lead to drinks and drinks lead to licking drinks off each other and I daresay you can imagine the only place that leads to, which it certainly did, six times in eight different rooms actually. And it was not until that sixth time, in that eighth room (the lounge), that I noticed a family portrait photograph which indicated she was at one time in possession of a man who gave her a child. Inquiring into this I found she maintained possession of him, except for a week now and again where he became the possession of his golf buddies in Scotland.”
“And he found you?”
“Oh heavens no! We finished up, drank some more, lounged naked and flopped over each other a little, and then I came back here. Just now actually. The point is, in what I assume will be between nine and fifteen years, the force of his wife’s infidelities will hit him, and the shock of not the action, but the shame of his own similar actions (ha! Golf! ) and their mutual inability to satisfy each other or even admit to each other their grand lacking, will drive him to an inevitable suicide. Probably by jumping in front of a van or something.”
Lucy sipped some red wine.
“I kill people much quicker than you, Luke”
“Yes, Lucy, but I certainly do kill them better.”
posted by Cal Samson at 5:30 PM
3 Comments:
"myself and my peers"
hugs and kisses
doktaluv the grammar nazi
long time no talk, by ze way
I liked it. But my God was it decadent.
DOK!!!!!!!
Oh, you have pounced upon me, even hidden here in this darkest corner of the internets' tubes in which I scurry! Good to hear you're still alive mate!
Yes, ze dialogue has become as infrequent as a proper old-style colonic. It iz zese times my friend, they rip us apart like a proper old style colonic.
My analogy generator appears to jammed, like a.... well... anyway, I'll have to do the ol' msn catch-it-all-up sometime down the road.
Oh, and I like me, but by god am I decadent.
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