Janet, wife, captured in radiant afterglow: “Why on earth would you say such a thing?”
Humberto, current but tentative husband, not captured because he was in the throes of a Bad Hair Day, that wretched beast: “I say such a thing because your glow speaks of life-changing sexual gratification.”
Janet: “Of course it does. I just had the most amazing tryst of my life. The earth moved under my rapturously-elevated feet.”
Humberto: “How can this be? I was not even in the room.”
Janet: “Exactly. Perhaps it’s time that we review the clause in our marital contract wherein I am allowed to terminate our matrimonial lark with just cause.”
Humberto: “But what cause is that? I only stepped out of the room to see who was ringing the doorbell with such insistence. Granted, once I let the plumber in who was here to fix your malfunctioning bidet, I perhaps should have returned immediately. But I felt compelled to wander into the kitchen and make a nice frittata. The chorizo we bought at the Farmer’s Market was about to turn and I simply couldn’t let that happen.”
Janet: “But what did happen is that the plumber knocked on the bedroom door and asked if I was decent. I wasn’t. And I continued to not be once he entered the room, waving about his pipe wrench and glistening in the sun from the bay window. He never made it to the bathroom.”
Humberto: “I still don’t understand.”
Janet: “Let me put it this way. The chorizo isn’t the only thing that has turned in this house. I now have a different vision. And part of that vision involves you leaving this house immediately. Of course, feel free to leave your forwarding address on one of the recipe cards in the kitchen, a room that clearly infatuates you more than me.”
Humberto: “So you don’t want my frittata?”
Janet: “Just leave it on the nightstand. I’m sure Plumber Man would appreciate some protein before our next roundelay, once he gets out of the shower. It’s still early in the day and I’m far from being cured of my indecency.”
Previously published. Slight changes made. Oh, and here’s this little addendum that I composed in the comments of said previous post:
Stormy Daniels, walking into the room unannounced, which was rather unusual for a porn star who is often quite vocal about her comings: “There you are, Humberto. I got bored waiting for you to return to the guesthouse. Come back and finish what you started. I have to be on the set in a few hours.”
Janet, eyes wide: “What on earth does this mean?”
Humberto: “It means that there never really was a frittata. So your little boyfriend will have to get his protein from somewhere else. Just like me. Have a good day. And change those sheets. It smells like a rusty pipe wrench in here.”
Categories: Past Imperfect
Bonnywood Manor 
Totally a parts wrenching tale. Or tail.
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Either way, something was wrong with the pipes…
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The plumber? Oh, the cliche… Janet *does* look rather glowy… hmmm… perhaps I should indulge in a cliche myself🤔 Which one, though?? There are SO many…
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Here’s a little something to tide you over until you make your selection…
https://brianlageose.blog/2018/02/25/dream-a-little-steam-of-me-2/
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Send me the plumber.
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He’ll be right over…
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I feel like I should make a comment about the plumbing snake, but it just seems too obvious.
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Once again, your discretion is both satisfying and taunting… 😉
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I hope the plumber gets paid. After all he DID lay some pipe, even though it didn’t lead to a pseudo-toilet which is used for things of a very private nature. Don’t drink from that ‘spring’ nor wash anything above your waist. E. coli, shigellosis, typhoid fever, salmonella, and cholera aren’t ‘fake’, unlike most of the news about anything at all these days.
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I think the plumber should consider himself already compensated. It’s not every day that one gets the bonus plan when they respond to a service call. Unless it’s a blue movie on Cinemax After Dark, wherein everything somehow leads to flopping about on the linoleum…
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I hope the plumber gets paid. After all he DID lay some pipe, even though it didn’t lead to a pseudo-toilet which is used for things of a very private nature. Don’t drink from that ‘spring’ nor wash anything above your waist. E. coli, shigellosis, typhoid fever, salmonella, and cholera aren’t ‘fake’, unlike most of the news about anything at all these days.
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Suddenly, Melanoma Drumpf entered the room, seething at the fingernails (she can’t seeth anywhere else because of all the plastic). And what is SHE doing here, Mellie raged, pointing a quivering fingernail at Corny.
Hernia: Um, Mr Brian? Is she is the right scene? … Am I hallucinating again? … I mean, I take those green pills like I’m supposed to, but …
Planet: Oh who cares? Just enjoy the ride.
You were always so uptight, but never in the right places. Now get out and take Mellie, Corny and that soggy frittata with you. Must I figure out everything??
😉
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The audience sits in stunned silence as the curtain lowers on the scene, then one person claps, and another, and soon the entire crowd is participating in a rapturous ovation. Apparently the decision to bring in a co-screenwriter at the end was a winning one.
Of course, they may have just been really, really happy that the damn play was finally over. We may never know…
(Hernia, Planet, and Corny? Dying.)
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Hi Brian, your comment gave me such a good chuckle. Thanks. 🙂
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Revenge is best served cold – as is a frittat? (I don’t know, maybe lukewarm love and frittata’s go together?)
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Revenge IS a tricky thing, especially when food is involved…
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Well darn. I was hoping for a good frittata. Humberto has some explaining to do!
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Well, if we’re looking for explanations, we should talk to the guy in the shower. He’s been in there and long time, so he must feel really dirty about something…
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