A Delicate Dilemma

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(This scenario is gender neutral, but I've inserted 'she' instead of the awful 's/he.')

So you've met a wonderful girl through a mutual friend, and agreed to have a date. The date is thoroughly delightful - dinner at a very nice Spanish restaurant, followed by drinks at a scrappy piano bar. She's just amazing: you have so much in common, she's smart and hilarious, and absolutely gorgeous. You think to yourself throughout the night: "Where has this girl been the last three years?"

She invites you back to her awesome loft apartment, where you finish off a bottle of zinfandel. It's getting late, she invites you to stay, and you do the deed. You normally wouldn't go this far on a first date, but everything feels so right. The sex is not perfect - it's your first time together - but it's warm and affectionate, and to prove it wasn't a drunken fluke, you do it again in the morning.

She kisses you and goes off to have a shower. You lay in the bed sipping coffee and feeling complete bliss. You can hear her singing in the shower. As you reach for the TV remote, you accidently crap the bed - you're naked, and there's shit all over your ass and legs and all over both sheets, and some on the duvet cover.

She's still in the shower... what do you do now?

andy, Friday, 6 February 2004 18:01 (fifteen years ago) Permalink

I've seen this movie.

Huckadelphia (Horace Mann), Friday, 6 February 2004 18:03 (fifteen years ago) Permalink

Set yourself on fire.

TOMBOT, Friday, 6 February 2004 18:04 (fifteen years ago) Permalink

Yeah, game over man.

ModJ (ModJ), Friday, 6 February 2004 18:06 (fifteen years ago) Permalink

And while you're laying there covered in flaming shit, blame it on the media.

Begs2Differ, Friday, 6 February 2004 18:06 (fifteen years ago) Permalink

INT. GAIL'S BEDROOM. MORNING

Spud opens his eyes. With his fingers, he feels crusted liquid around his mouth.


Abruptly he turns around: the bed is soaked in vomit.


He looks under the cover and drops it again in revulsion.

INT. GAIL'S BEDROOM. DAY

Spud wipes the vomit from his chest with a pillowcase, which he dumps in the middle of the sheets before gathering the whole lot up as a bundle.

INT. GAIL'S HOME, HALL/KITCHEN. DAY

The door swings open to reveal the kitchen. Gail, her Father, and Mother are seated around the table, eating breakfast. They look towards Spud, who carries the knotted bundle of sheets as he approaches the table.

GAIL
Good morning, Spud.


SPUD
Morning, Gail. Morning, Mrs. Houston, Mr. Houston.


MOTHER
Morning, Spud. Sit down and have some breakfast.


SPUD
Sorry about last night -


GAIL
It's all right. I slept fine on the sofa.


SPUD
I had a little too much to drink. I'm afraid I had a slight accident.


FATHER
Oh, don't worry, these things happen. It does everyone good to cut loose once in a while.


GAIL
This one could do with being tied up once in a while.


MOTHER
I'll put the sheets in the washing machine just now.


SPUD
No, I'll wash them. I'll take them home and bring them back.


MOTHER
There's no need.


SPUD
It's no problem.


MOTHER
No problem for me either.


MOTHER
Honestly, it's no problem.


SPUD
I'd really rather take care of it myself.


MOTHER
Spud, they're my sheets.

She takes hold of the bundle.


Spud does not yield.


She pulls harder. Spud holds on. She tugs powerfully.


The bundle bursts open with an explosion of vomit and excrement that covers everything in the kitchen.


Only Spud remains untouched.


---------


SPUD
I guess this means I'll never get to have sex with Gail.

gygax! (gygax!), Friday, 6 February 2004 18:08 (fifteen years ago) Permalink

Oh, man.

Pashmina (Pashmina), Friday, 6 February 2004 18:08 (fifteen years ago) Permalink

Take off your mask to reveal that you were really Old Man Withers from the haunted amusement park the whole time.

nickalicious (nickalicious), Friday, 6 February 2004 18:08 (fifteen years ago) Permalink

Well Andy, you got that far that fast so maybe see if she's into it.

Bryan (Bryan), Friday, 6 February 2004 18:09 (fifteen years ago) Permalink

was it the chicken?

kephm, Friday, 6 February 2004 18:10 (fifteen years ago) Permalink

Maybe the problem was that you were drinking Tim Horton's coffee. I've spontaneously shit myself drinking that stuff before.

Bryan (Bryan), Friday, 6 February 2004 18:12 (fifteen years ago) Permalink

young grasshopper- if you were truely in da bliss you would of never reached for the remote!lesson # two

obiwan, Friday, 6 February 2004 18:17 (fifteen years ago) Permalink

fifteen years pass...

ever get this sharted?

ɪmˈpəʊzɪŋ (darraghmac), Monday, 11 February 2019 02:05 (two months ago) Permalink

one expects that, providing the whole scenario was real rather than fictitious, that the mere passage of fifteen years would provide some kind of a resolution, however unsatisfactory it may have been to the parties involved.

A is for (Aimless), Monday, 11 February 2019 02:23 (two months ago) Permalink

revive of the year

macropuente (map), Monday, 11 February 2019 03:42 (two months ago) Permalink

If I'm roughly the same age as Alyssa Milano, is it okay for me to think she's hot on old episodes of "Who's The Boss?" Granted, she was only like 12 at the time, but I was 12 as well.
― andy, Friday, January 2, 2004 9:42 AM (fifteen years ago) Bookmark

velko, Monday, 11 February 2019 05:49 (two months ago) Permalink


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