This story just popped into my head. No joke. I was just sitting in my basement and it just came to me. So I wrote it to see if it'd be any good. It's an attempt at humor so . . . it might be funny and it might not.
I own nothing. The Almighty Larson owns all but the plot line.
Lying on the floor in her bedroom with her feet in the air, Angel was reading For the New Intellectual by Ayn Rand. It was one of Collins' many books on philosophy and, although she could understand most of it, she was bored out of her mind. Her initial plan was to read a good portion of the book and then impress her lover with her newfound knowledge when he came home. Unfortunately, that plan was failing.
How does he read this? she thought. Why would he pick such a boring subject to be interested in?
Angel managed to read the entire first chapter before shutting the book and tossing it backwards on the bed with seven other books of Collins' she'd only read the first chapters of. She sighed, stood up, and looked at the pile of books on the bed.
Damn you books! she thought. Damn you all to hell!
She went to the bedroom door, gave the books one last look as if to damn them all for eternity, and headed to the living room area. There she sat on the couch and stared at the door. Five minutes passed before she got up, walked to the door, opened it, and looked down both ends of the hallway. Collins wasn't in sight yet so Angel brought her head back in the door and shut it. She sighed again and went into the kitchen.
He always comes home when I'm in the kitchen, she thought. She pulled out a pot, filled it with water, sat it on the front burner of the stove, and turned the burner on before sitting on the kitchen table and waiting. When the water started boiling about ten minutes later, Angel heard the door open and shut.
"Baby, I'm home!" She heard Collins call.
Finally! Angel's mind shouted. She got off the table, turned the stove off, and went into the living room area to greet her lover with an extremely passionate kiss, which lasted about two minutes.
"How was your day, honey?" Angel asked after the tiny make out session was over.
"Same old, same old," Collins replied, slipping his shoes off. "I lectured my class. Some of them fell asleep, others couldn't keep up. You know, how my days usually are." He walked over to the couch, sat down, and opened his briefcase. "Oh yeah, I get to grade a whopping seven essays." Collins rolled his eyes as he took a pen from his pocket.
"Well, seven's not bad," Angel said, trying to sound encouraging. "I mean, at least some people are doing the assignments."
"Seven may not be bad, but seven out of twenty is horrible."
"Ooh . . . I have to agree with you there." Collins sighed, took the cap off of his pen with his teeth, and took out the first essay he was going to grade. Angel sat behind him and rubbed his shoulders. "Sweetie, do you have to grade those now?"
"No, but I'd like to get 'em done and out of the way," Collins replied, completely ignoring the fact that his lover was giving him a massage.
"Are you sure you don't wanna do that later?" Angel stopped her little massage and started kissing Collins' neck.
"I'm sure, baby." Collins made several red marks and circles on the first page of the essay he was grading before turning to the second page.
"You sure you don't wanna do something else?" Angel started nibbling on her lover's ear. Collins put his pen and the essay down and gently pushed Angel away from him.
"Ang, I have work to do," he told her. "You understand that?" Angel frowned.
"No I don't actually," she replied. "You never turn down sex. Not even for work."
"Well, I'm just not in the mood today." Angel gasped and her eyes widened. "Why're you lookin' at me like that?"
"You did not just say that sentence," Angel replied, her eyes still as wide as ever.
"What'd I say?" Collins asked.
"You said you're not in the mood!"
"Honey, you're never not in the mood! You're the horniest guy in New York!"
"Am I not allowed to not wanna have sex?"
"No you're not!"
"It's weird! Are you sick?" Angel put the back of her hand to Collins' forehead and he brought her hand back down. "I'm gonna go get the thermometer and call Maureen."
"Angel, I'm fine!" Collins yelled as Angel sprinted to the bathroom. She got the thermometer out of the medicine cabinet, ran back to the living room area, and put the thermometer in Collins' mouth.
"Keep that under your tongue," she told him as she ran to the bedroom. There, she picked up the phone and dialed the number to Maureen and Joanne's apartment as fast as her fingers would let her. It rang twice before someone answered.
"Hello!" Maureen's perky voice came.
"Maureen, it's Angel," Angel said quickly.
"Oh! Hi Angel! How's it goin'?
"This is no time for chit chat. There's been a crisis!"
"Collins just told me he's not in the mood for sex." Maureen made a high pitch squealing noise and Angel held the phone away from her ear.
"That's impossible!" Maureen's normal voice came, now dripping with concern.
"It's true!" Angel said. "He said it! I need you to help me figure out what's wrong!"
"I'm on my way." They both hung up the phone at the same time and Angel ran back to the living room area to check the thermometer. It read 96.8, meaning he wasn't sick. Now all she could do was wait for Maureen.
First chapter done. Like it? Hate it? Tell me in your reviews please.