Homecoming
Come here baby. Come here…don’t be like that. I know it’s been a month…I know. But I brought you a keg of beer…ahhhh, now you’re smiling. Here’s your keg. Hey hold up…hold up, don’t beat me up…hey that’s not fair. (Darting for cover…). Stops to reason with TORMENTOR…hey, hear me out…(sees, rather late, heavy pillow headed for his head. It hits him square in the face. He sees TORMENTOR reach for a flower vase. He pauses to take in the amusing picture as TORMENTOR struggles to actually lift the thing. Heave. Heave. Breathe. Breathe. Angry breathing. Wipe brow. Heave. Strain muscles. He considers offering to help. Sees vase start to move. First slowly. Gathering speed. Ha! Dives. Crushing sound. )
(From the safety of the closet) Look here, listen for a second….blogger, listen. Things have been tight. That philandering bitch, WORK, came onto me. She’s really demanding. She left me spent. If it’s any consolation, she wasn’t even as good as my workmates say she was…I swear.
(Gets phone call. Phone’s on silent. Vibrator tags at his thigh. He picks up.)
(Whispers) Yes? Listen WORK I can’t talk right now, but you’re the best. Yeah, aha. Yeah, yes, okay…let me get this straight, you want me to buy us some leather straps, and to come over wearing nothing, but with a yellow rose between my teeth? Aha…yes…yes….you’ll have nothing but the music on? Aha…okay…ya, yah, you already said that. What? I should come wearing an eye patch? Ok, I’ll see you…you what? Eh oso me…
Blogger baby, that was WORK. I just gave her the tongue-lashing of her life. Told her that she may have my body during the day but you have my life. My passion. My love. My drive. She forces me to do all kinds of things. She…she even…(chokes back tears)…she drove us apart. That…that tart! That…that…WHORE!! (Bursts out of closet, gets blow to the head)
(X minutes/hours later)
(Our star recovers to find blogger passed out from the gift keg of beer)
(Talking to passed-out blogger)
I’m sorry. It will never come to this between us again. It’s been a month to you but it feels like an eternity for me. (Rubs his temples, trying to nurse the throbbing headache)…
(Moves towards passed-out blogger) I’m going to put in that extra time just for you. You and I, we are…we are… (Hugs passed-out blogger) … (The wheels are turning but the car’s not moving) …we are… (Borrowing from his buddy Akon)… we are stuck with each other.
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Glad to be back. Now, fast forward…BHH tomorrow. It’s always been close to my heart this BHH thing. Word got round that blogger elections are coming up. I’m going for the top spot; I want blogger president. My manifesto will follow but first, lemme say the Streetsider and Bazanye have written their names in my ‘Sleek for President’ book. BHH tomorrow, have to get YOU to sign too.
BHH, BHH, BHH…..BHH, tomorrow, Mateos. Licensed to thrill.
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I thought Princess’s post were my what-are-you-doing-awake reminders. [Un]fortunately, the past week was reminder free, but now… Lets just say you do not get my homecoming king vote!
Who is awake with me? Anyone? Come on, the internet is faster while the rest of the world sleeps… OFFER – homecoming dance at next month’s BHH! Going once… aaarrrgggghhhh
Hi Sleek.
You were awake alone, Ashy. The rest of us are just catching up.
Posted that ish at about 5am…your SOS prolly came just after I hit the sack. But yes, the net’s so much faster. lemme take u up on that dance eh?
have fun! lemme know who takes the crown
Aahh ahh! for us we want no change, Dee for 4th term. awa girl, awa girl.
But Carsozy, I haven’t even gotten to the part of the slow-winding vixens and manic amounts of liquor that’d be imbibed under my reign
Come to think of it, BHH should be nicknamed homecoming.
As long as no one challenges my position as permanent secretary in the ministry of blogs.
And integrity.
Me: What the! Waiter, what food is this?
Not me: Sleek for president, sir.
Me: Who asked you to bring me this shit?
Not me: It, sir.
Me: Who are you telling to eat?
Not me: No. It. It told me to bring it to you and everyone at BHH. It asks you to vote for it.
Me: Not to eat it?
Not me: No, sir.
Me: Oh. Phukes!
Vote Sleek for president! Vote Sleek for president!
THE END.
‘Sleek for President’ ……. cool.
Just so you know,during campaigns sugar,salt and soap are given to the voters..
I will gladly receive my Nile Gold, tonight. thanks
{Sleek for president} har!
Then Nile Golo is it…This Rented chap is saying good things and bad things at the same time.I know a junkie when i see one