Everyday Stranger

Helen Gets Her Revenge

Having already had Volvo-Man skewered, tarred, feathered, summarily dismissed from Company X and changed into a woman since she volunteered him for the "Sex Change for Meal Coupons at Chick-Fil-A" competition, Helen set her sights on the next two targets.

Don and Jim.

Knowing that both Don and Jim had been playing for her affections for some time, in a battle of wits which left other bloggers bleeding in a ditch by the wayside, she knew that he would never rest until she met with the winner and satisfied his...curiousity (as they call it in Sweden).

Moving up the hallway, she rubs one hand down her thigh, feeling the lace of the stocking beneath the shiny black sheath of a dress. She struts-well, as well as one can strut in flats, since her winner is only one inch taller than her-down the tiled hallway floor, headed to the elegant hotel room overlooking the Champs Elysees.

(Hey-it's my revenge story. I'm going to set it where I want to!)

She knows this was a battle to the...er...climax. There can be only one.

Suddenly, she wants to shag Christopher Lambert, but then dismisses it, since he's icky.

She reaches the hotel room door. She places a delicate lily-white hand on the door and pushes it open. She looks up. The room is awash with candles and lilies (her favorite). She sees the figure of a man, dashing in a three-piece suit (come on now, isn't every man dashing in a three-piece suit?) rise and reach out a hand.

She meets his eyes. They feel a burst of electricity. And at that moment, Don and Helen are in love.

A voice whispers in her ear: You have chosen...wisely.
Helen (confused): God? Sean Connery?
An arm reaches behind her and spins her around, forcing her to miss Don's outstretched arm that would take her into his embrace and make wild passionate love all night (as well as fuck a bit while trying to watch 30 second intervals of free pay-per-view porn). She whirls, and is confronted with...

...Jim

Helen: Um, Jim? Why are you wearing a bellboy outfit?
Jim: I had to do something to cover my horns, Helen.
Don (screaming): Damn you Jim! Damn you to hell!

Helen and Jim stare at Don.

Don (embarrassed): Sorry, I thought the three-piece suit called for some old-fashioned cursing. Sorry, my bad.
Helen: Jim, what are you doing here?
Jim: I had to prevent you from being swept away by Don. I had to have a chance with you.
Don (scratching his head): Am I being punk'd?

Helen reaches for Don's hand and holds him close.

Helen (passionately, swooning in his arms): I can't, Jim. My heart belongs to another! DOn't make me choose, I can never stand the pain. Never!
Jim (looking a bit confused): Er, ok, Harlequin Romance girl. You may like Don, but does he have a white creamy dip?
Don (embarrassed): I did once in high school, but I took some antibiotics. It cleared it all up.
Jim: No man, I mean I brought some artichoke dip. Helen is a veggie, after all. She loves rabbit food like that.
Helen: What?
Jim: What?
Helen: What?
Jim: Here, try this.

He reaches behind him and swipes a dainty finger into a silver pot of creamy white artichoke dip, and brings it to Helen's mouth. Don dives forward, trying to prevent this from happening. He grabs Jim's arm and shakes it, forcing the dip onto Helen's dress. In a continual slow motion move, he dives, screaming, and grabs Jim's other arm, forcing the silver dip bowl to go diving and splatters all over Jim's bellboy trousers and Don's head. Jim protectively covers his crotch, worried Don is going for a racking. He stays, panting and angry at Jim's feet.

A screeching voice is heard from the hallway.

"What the HELL is going on here?"

All three of them look up and see Simon, standing at the door. He is shaking and terrified, holding a Marmite sandwich. They look at each other and realize how they look.

Helen has a white stain down the front of her dress.
Jim is holding onto his crotch.
Don is between them, covered in a thick white cream.
Helen feels like an idiot and briefly debates going gay.

Don and Jim immediately decide they don't care how they look, since Jim is out of the closet anyway. Winning Helen is more important than looking like a tag team of whip me/beat me gay men (hey-it's MY revenge fantasy!).

Don and Jim stand up and circle Simon, worried about yet another contender for Helen's affections.

Simon (screaming in serious distress): Good God, good God! I'm just here for the BEAR!

They all sigh, and Don, in one motion, grabs Luuk, hurling him into the hallway. Jim, ever the demonic gentleman, goes running to catch Luuk to make sure he isn't injured. Don, seizing the moment, shoves Jim out the door and latches it behind him.

Don (putting his lips on her neck): Gentlemen always lose, Kitten.
Helen: Oh Don! Talk dirty to me!
Don: One hundred white horses fell in the mud.
Helen: Good enough!

And she kisses him deeply.

And Don took the whole night to prove to Helen the term: Winner takes all.

She in term taught him the term: multiple orgams.

-H.

PS-I have been nominated as a Hot Blogging Chick. Cool.

Posted by Everydaystranger at November 5, 2003 10:40 PM | TrackBack