Penelope skipped inside her father's 20 million dollar home and changed into a casual but simply stunning joggers outfit. She had changed clothes faster than any woman Adam had ever seen. She threw on her striped pink runner's jacket and hot pink jogger shorts that appeared to have been custom made by Puma for Aphrodite herself. Perhaps that is why the word "Aphrodite" was written on the back of her shorts, with the "Aphr" written on her left gluteal muscles, an "o" logically placed in the center, and "dite" placed on the side that Adam had pictured in his right hand.
Penelope came half jogging out of the bathroom and shook the remaining water droplets from her hair with a playful toss.
"Alright cowboy. Let's go crash a wedding."
Adam couldn't believe how well things had started to work out. People were helping him. A beautiful young girl was actually giving him the time of day. 'What day is it?' he thought to himself. Didn't matter. The wedding was the last challenge. If he could accomplish-decomlish?-subcomplish?- well, whatever it was when you successfully foil someone else's happiness, that is all he needed to do to feel complete, to feel powerful, to feel important.
Penelope had been running much faster than she knew Adam was capable of in his injured conditioned, but Adam assumed that it was her only giving him proper motivation to complete his task, kind of like tough love. Adam didn't know how many blocks they had already run. There weren't actual blocks to be counting. Every property was practically its own country. After his breath had almost completely left him, and nearly all of his scabs had fallen off, Penelope had slowed her jog to a brisk walk and stopped quite contentedly at the end of a long walkway to a modest (for the neighborhood's standards) brick house.
While Adam had been painfully making his way step by step up the sloped walkway, a very annoyed woman had answered the front door blowing smoke at the face of the young smiling Penelope.
"What," said the lanky and frizzle haired woman.
Penelope just squinted her eyes at the cloud of smoke and pulled a piece of bubble gum from her jacket pocket and popped it into her mouth.
"Umm, my brother and I are here for the wedding." She pointed down at Adam still coughing and spitting his way up the drive-way.
"See, that's him. Sorry if we're late. We just got our invita-"
"Don't care. Whatever. It's my cousins wedding. I'm just here for the free booze anyway."
The tall tree branch of a woman swayed to the side to let the two into a house she felt way too comfortable in. As Adam made his way to the door. Her eyes popped open and a gasp of air had pulled cigarette ash into her mouth. She blew the ash back out with a startling, "SHIT!"
Adam looked up hoping to see the surprised look on Sally Armstrong's face. 'HA,' he thought as he pulled his head up from an extreme slouching position. He fell unprepared into the eyes of that mean stubborn bitch Wendy Dossimer.
'Shit!' he thought, then "SHIT!" he said.
The two were locked in a death stare that would have frightened Satan. Wendy finally snapped out of it and turned her face toward the inside of the house.
"Nope, Nope. Don't let this one in. He's tryin' to crash the party. Nope not comin' in mister."
Her voice became louder with each syllable. It was frightening Adam. He had to think fast. Think on his feet. He wasn't about to let this woman make him a failure. Not again. He had to stop that wedding. No matter what. No matter what the cost. Before the next word could spill from her thin horrible mouth he struck at it with the last ounce of strength he had.
It felt good. Not necessarily hitting a woman felt good, but hitting anything. Adam never had the chance to actually punch anyone in the face before. It was amazing. She spun like a top. It was just like in the movies. He needed to take action and he did. And for once it actually worked. She was now silent/knocked out and all he had to do was step over her and confess his love for -?
'Wait,' he thought.
'I don't even think I DO love Sally. I mean an hour ago I was thinking of fucking Penelope. Ok, ok ok, ok ok. Wait, just-well, hummph. Well, why am I here again? Oh no. OOOOOH no. I'm not doing this to myself again. I'm just trying to get out of an obligation. Just tryin' to talk myself out of it. Nope. Nope. I came here for a reason and I'm following through with it. I'm stopping this wedding.'
Adam went immediately for the backyard assuming that Sally would be the type to impress everyone with her sensibility in having a home-style backyard wedding. Penelope had been by the punch bowl (yes, there actually was a punch bowl), talking to another young man about a band Adam had never heard of before. Sally had been rounding up the troops (brides maids), to the altar where the ceremony was about to take place. Adam began sweating again in anticipation. He didn't know what to do. He hadn't planned it this far. He never thought he would get this far. The anxiety was about to rip the heart out of his chest and send it screaming. He had made it past Wendy, he could handle this.
He approached Sally with ease and caution. He didn't know what would happen but he had confidence that it would come to him like a bolt of lightening.
"Adam! So good you could make it. Ooooh, looks like you've had it a bit rough." She dusted off his shoulders patting off the dust from his ripped sleeves and inflaming his already yellowed bruises. "Well, have a seat now, it's about to start." Her eyes gleamed and she squinted with that same joyful youth he had seen in Penelope's eyes earlier. "Aren't you so excited?"
As she moved past Adam's gaping jaw in her over sized wedding dress, something had come to him.
"Sally." She turned around quickly and naturally like a feather in the wind to greet his face with a smile. "I don't love you Sally. Tell you the truth, I really couldn't give a fuck about you, but you know? I never had the balls to say it. So, yeah, there ya' go."
Sally washed the smile off her face and picked up some speed as she began storming toward Adam. "You came all the way here just to tell me that, you slimy shit?" As she advanced more and more, Adam tried to remain calm.
"Well, yeah."
With that, Sally had reeled back and clocked Adam on the jaw with the force of cement truck; a cement truck that just had it's wedding ruined. Adam spun around in a circle, also just like in the movies, and fell to the ground with his bloody mouth full of dirt once again.
Wendy had since come to, and found herself staring over Adam's pathetic body once again, breathing rapid and very weak, much like an infant.
"Well, well. What'd'ya know? Ain't this somethin' funny."
'And it is,' Adam thought.
"I told you asshole. Next time, I ain't helpin'. So, Fuck you and the horse you rode in on." Or, "the plane," which she thought of later and realized would have added insult to injury and would have been a lot funnier, but, she still felt that was pretty good. She did after all, end with an accurate spitting onto Adam's neck. "Later dick-hole."
Adam laid there for anywhere between 5 minutes and forever tasting dirt and blood in his mouth. His head pounded as the sound of a keyboard played Mendelssohn's 'Wedding March.' "Dun-dun-dun dun- Dun-Dun-dun dun." Penelope could be seen from the corner of his left upper peripherals walking out of the house with that nice young man, discussing music and concerts they have been to. Her cute bottom bounced as she turned to look for Adam one last time, chewing her gum and forgetting all about him with one shrug of her shoulders.
'This isn't so bad,' he thought. 'Once you get used to it.'
THE END
Friday, December 26, 2008
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Stumped (page five)
Her name was Penelope. She happened to be 22 years-old, rich, and a very loud screamer, but for whatever reason, decided to stop screaming when Adam whispered in the most desperate and pleading tone, "pleeease be quiet." Penelope didn't feel too threatened by a young man who looked like he had just been in a plane crash. He looked like he needed help and if he was there to rob the house she would easily be able to over-power him. Adam did need help. He needed help with everything, but most immediately he needed help finding Bob Grost's house; however, he didn't expect the help to be coming from one of the most beautiful, wickedly strange and silly women in recorded history. People often did think Penelope was still in high school, not because of her soft features or small stature but because she loved pillow fights, bubble baths and making fart noises with her mouth. She often did the latter at the most inappropriate and shockingly awkward times. This is when it was most funny to her.
After having screamed, Penelope was very silent and removed all tell-tale emotions from her face.
"Look, I'm sorry I frightened you. My name is Adam and I'm looking for the house of Bob Grost. He is getting married today and I need to-"
"PPffpfpfffpftttttt."
And with that very long and loud fart noise, Penelope laughed heartily and with a real sense of pride.
Adam looked confused. He wondered if she had been listening to him at all. Was she mad?
Penelope giggled like a school girl.
"Heeee, HA! That was a good one. That one had some bass in it."
Adam was in pain, he was tired and he felt that if he couldn't follow through with stopping that wedding, he'd never accomplish anything, ever. He had to stay focused. What kinda loser would he be to get this far and quit or fail.
"Are you listening to me? I need to stop Bob Grost's wedding from taking place. That's why I'm here. That's why I'm in your backyard and that's why you are going to help me find his house got it?"
Penelope playfully shrugged her shoulders and gave out a "humph" kinda sound as if to say, 'why not.' She was still dripping crystal clear water from the rounder parts of her body. Her bikini seemed so a part of her skin it seemed silly to ever try and remove it.
"Alright tough guy, just gimme a second to dry off and put some clothes on and I'll show you where his house is."
She winked at Adam and walked slowly toward a long white beach towel draped over a lawn chair near the sliding glass doors to the house. She gradually lifted one knee and bent over the chair grasping for the beach towel. She turned her head in slow motion toward Adam to catch him staring at her wet and fit little bottom.
Adam dropped his jaw and before he could snap out of it, Penelope startled him once again.
"PPPfffffffpfpfpfpftttttttttt! HA! Got you again. Yes, this is gunna be fun."
After having screamed, Penelope was very silent and removed all tell-tale emotions from her face.
"Look, I'm sorry I frightened you. My name is Adam and I'm looking for the house of Bob Grost. He is getting married today and I need to-"
"PPffpfpfffpftttttt."
And with that very long and loud fart noise, Penelope laughed heartily and with a real sense of pride.
Adam looked confused. He wondered if she had been listening to him at all. Was she mad?
Penelope giggled like a school girl.
"Heeee, HA! That was a good one. That one had some bass in it."
Adam was in pain, he was tired and he felt that if he couldn't follow through with stopping that wedding, he'd never accomplish anything, ever. He had to stay focused. What kinda loser would he be to get this far and quit or fail.
"Are you listening to me? I need to stop Bob Grost's wedding from taking place. That's why I'm here. That's why I'm in your backyard and that's why you are going to help me find his house got it?"
Penelope playfully shrugged her shoulders and gave out a "humph" kinda sound as if to say, 'why not.' She was still dripping crystal clear water from the rounder parts of her body. Her bikini seemed so a part of her skin it seemed silly to ever try and remove it.
"Alright tough guy, just gimme a second to dry off and put some clothes on and I'll show you where his house is."
She winked at Adam and walked slowly toward a long white beach towel draped over a lawn chair near the sliding glass doors to the house. She gradually lifted one knee and bent over the chair grasping for the beach towel. She turned her head in slow motion toward Adam to catch him staring at her wet and fit little bottom.
Adam dropped his jaw and before he could snap out of it, Penelope startled him once again.
"PPPfffffffpfpfpfpftttttttttt! HA! Got you again. Yes, this is gunna be fun."
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Stumped (page four)
Adam hobbled into a cab. It was raining, as it often does in Vancouver, and his mangled wet body was no more wanted in that cab than that of a stray dog. There happened to be a public bus much closer to the hospital and much cheaper than taking a cab, however when the bus driver waited two full minutes for Adam to get cash from an ATM, he sped away cursing Adam's name for having gone over the allotted 90 seconds the driver gave him to go inside and come back. The drizzle coming from the sky was actually quite pleasant to Adam. He saw it as an agreement he and the sky had with the earth-something they had in common. Had a storm emptied golf ball size hail upon him, he might have seen it as a smiting of the miserable, but in this case, he felt like wrapping his arm around the pathetic clouds and saying, "Yeah I know buddy. I understand."
The cabby stopped quite short of the wedding the driver refusing, "No, No. I can not go in there. You must walk from here." To Adam's surprise this had nothing to do with his awful appearance, awful smell, or awful attitude. The cabby stopped simply because this was the richest and most highly secure, gated neighborhood in all of Vancouver. Many Canadian and American stars were living here. Adam looked into the hills with homes spread apart as if to say, 'I spent my whole life clawing my way up these hills, now you leave me alone, or I'm calling the cops.' Once Adam had scaled an eight foot rock wall, the homes had done just that. There were security cameras and automatic alarm systems that went off the second his scabby knees made it to the other side. After his chin had scraped against the wall and his toe nails had pulled about half way off from misjudging the distance to the ground, he made it over only to discover a screaming young female in a pool. If she would stop screaming for just 5 seconds he could explain what he was doing in her back yard. This would truly mean fortune had finally decided to give Adam a break. If she were over 18 years of age, then fortune would truly have felt sorry for all it had done to Adam in the past and had asked for his forgiveness with a kind and voluptuous gift.
The cabby stopped quite short of the wedding the driver refusing, "No, No. I can not go in there. You must walk from here." To Adam's surprise this had nothing to do with his awful appearance, awful smell, or awful attitude. The cabby stopped simply because this was the richest and most highly secure, gated neighborhood in all of Vancouver. Many Canadian and American stars were living here. Adam looked into the hills with homes spread apart as if to say, 'I spent my whole life clawing my way up these hills, now you leave me alone, or I'm calling the cops.' Once Adam had scaled an eight foot rock wall, the homes had done just that. There were security cameras and automatic alarm systems that went off the second his scabby knees made it to the other side. After his chin had scraped against the wall and his toe nails had pulled about half way off from misjudging the distance to the ground, he made it over only to discover a screaming young female in a pool. If she would stop screaming for just 5 seconds he could explain what he was doing in her back yard. This would truly mean fortune had finally decided to give Adam a break. If she were over 18 years of age, then fortune would truly have felt sorry for all it had done to Adam in the past and had asked for his forgiveness with a kind and voluptuous gift.
Friday, December 12, 2008
"Do the Right Thing" and set Mike Huckabee on fire.
Your ancestors possessed me
The witch hunt began
I buried your bible
In the Puritan sand
I dug up the trenches
Where the heathens were stirring
They erected an oak pole
Where the righteous would be burning
The people who begged you
And swelled with a faith
That one day you'd help them
And grant them their gain
But you printed the symbols that execute rights
You've so generously supplied the fuel for a light
That ignites a sky on a pillar of wood
On which a govern'r restrained
So sobbingly stood
And cried to the moon
"Do the the Right Thing,
And end this mad witch hunt.
Do not burn your king."
Stumped (The story so far)
Adam woke up to find his heart beating like an infants; rapid and very weak. Unable to move his body, he stared up into a blue sky that was turning white from the burning sun digging into his eyes. Underneath him, brown dead grass poked at his neck and sharp rocks prodded into various parts of his back. In the upper left peripherals of his vision he could see a long nylon strap, most likely for the purpose of some safety device. ‘How ironic,’ he thought. In the lower corner of his vision were miscellaneous pieces of the plane, strewn about the autumn leaves of the urban forestry in the Vancouver Clark Washington Park. Adam Daniels was never a hero. He was your typical twenty-something white man, who felt like a failure. Why he ever thought he could for once make an adrenaline fueled decision, drunk on emotion, and get away with it, he could not understand at this point. He had already lost three pints of blood and was pondering how ridiculous it was that in Vancouver, the sun could be sitting on top of you and you could still be freezing to death. Why did she want to move here, of all places? Sure, he could have died alone and unhappy in the United States, but she was convinced that with the supposed economic doom of the country, they would be safer in Vancouver. Adam never disputed that, but he was just too excited to cash in on his front row seat to the destruction of the United States; a country that rewarded selfishness, deceit, and mediocrity. Television had hyped up this Armageddon for years on the cable news stations, and having been born and bred an American, he felt he had the opportunity of a lifetime to witness its collapse.
Retarded. He felt so retarded lying there in an open city park, blood flowing around a failed parachute, eyes as white as milk, waiting for a careless pedestrian to casually stroll over him and offer help. He had been waiting in a pathetic state in his country of origin, so what choice did he have other than to steal a plane and stop the wedding from taking place? He had to show initiative. He had to prove to her that he could do it. To do something, or at least to try. How could Sally Armstrong, a name so beautiful, marry a douche bag like Bob Grost? It sounded too much like Blob Gross, or Boob Gross. Fuck that! Adam Daniels could either die a helpless, lonely-fart-bag in his stained white undershirt, or get off his ass and save the girl he loved; however, when he stole the plane, he didn't think flying it would be all that difficult-what with everything being automated now-and managed to crash it, once again fucking up the simplest of tasks. ‘Never send the mediocre to do a hero's job,’ he thought. Such pain. With all of his life's bad luck, he knew for sure he would survive. Shit, at this point, he wasn't sure what the worst outcome could possibly be, but somehow it found him and always surprised him. Never disappointed. Quiet! Someone's coming.
A woman of 35-37 years of age, pretty but in that, 'I can also built a nice pool deck or put up vinyl siding' kinda way, stepped over Adam, looking down into his teary and blurring eyes. "You o.k.?" Adam saw a figure wearing some kind of open green sweater dangling below billowing waves of sandy brown hair. "Mister? Uh, Hey Mister, you o.k.?" Adam wasn't sure whether or not he was able to speak, so he decided to play it safe and let out a long series of weak airy sounds that escaped from the back of this throat. 'hhaahhhh. HhaaAhhhh. Hhohh. hospital.' He was so excited. The figure elongated itself and the waves of hair and sweater were now one with a disappointing stick with two arms at its sides. Wendy looked about her thinking of what to do. If she dealt with this guy's problem she would have to get to know him and that was simply out of the question. 'I still have to go grocery shopping today,' she thought to herself. "Well shit," she said quietly to herself. "Listen buddy, I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but there isn't a hospital around here for miles, maybe ten or so. And, and, look, I don't have a car, alright, I take the bus, so I can't help you alright? I'll try and have someone call an ambulance for you ok." Wendy let out a forceful pocket of air from her lungs and looked around for the nearest and most convenient person available. Seeing no one other than an old gentleman across the street, having some trouble with a walker that had lost one of its hollowed out tennis balls, she sighed again, this time with a surrendering defeat. "This isn't my day," and decided to look for a pay phone.
Adam, was confused as to what this figure in front of him might be doing at this point. She had said very little and didn't appear to be moving around as people do when they are helping with an emergency situation. When she had taken a few steps east, then west, then south, she finally left heading north, or whatever direction was directly over Adam's head. He thought he'd give it one more shot. 'Hhhaaaa, HHoooosspitallll!'
The worst had already happened. Adam survived the plane crash. When he woke up, fat and grossly unqualified nurses surrounded him. "Well then, somebody finally decided to join the land of the living." The nurse bent over him putting ungodly amounts of pressure on his broken ribs with her unnaturally gargantuan breasts, while she struggled with the new iv needle. Adam managed to turn his head slightly to his right, watching in amazement at his own stupefying inability to affect change upon himself. He was at the mercy of the idiotic and mediocre. People like him never got the best of the best.
After a remarkably cheap discharge from the hospital-Sally wasn't full of shit about their health care after all-Adam was surprised to see a lanky, thirty-something-year-old, waiting in the lobby, holding a cigarette, upset that she was unable to smoke. Wendy Dossimer darted her eyes at and around Adam with a child's impatience. "Well, you ok now, or what?" Adam instinctively grabbed at his side as one does when looking for sympathy. "I guess. Who are you?" Wendy sighed, looked toward the ceiling and decided to light up anyway. "Figures you know. No thanks or nuthin. I'm the one that saved your ass you know." Wendy turned and walked toward the electronic sliding doors exiting the lobby with a familiar finger pointed at Adam. "So long asshole."
Adam, unable to move quickly, hobbled across the short carpet displacing new born scabs on his body and caught up with the woman who may have cruelly brought him back to life. "Wait. Wait." Hearing Adam's desperate panting, Wendy stopped never turning her back. "What? What do you want?" Adam hated saying sorry, but that's just what you do when someone saves your life and you don't thank them, or worse you stare at them wondering why in the fuck did they have to save you when they could have left you there like any other decent person. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't recognize you. I'm not even sure how I got here. If you brought me help, then, well, thanks." Wendy finally turned around to face Adam. He was expecting a slightly prettier face, but was caught instead between disappointment and relief at the sight of her. She blew out smoke as she said, "Something tells me you're full of shit, you know that?" Adam confirmed her suspicion when he looked down at the ground and then away into the parking lot feeling ashamed. "You're probably right. Well, I don't want to take up any more of your-"
Wendy butted in, "Yes please don't."
"time."
Wendy began fidgeting with any accessories on her body and then gave Adam Daniels a most disturbing good bye. "Yeah, well. Just know that if I run into you again and you need help, don't hesitate to ask someone else alright?" With that, Wendy did her best to permanently leave Adam's presence when he asked her one final question. "Uhh, sorry but, what day is it." Without missing a step away from Adam, Wendy yelled from across the parking lot, "Saturday." Adam perked up his head and took a deep breath. "SHIT! The wedding. I should still have a few hours."
Retarded. He felt so retarded lying there in an open city park, blood flowing around a failed parachute, eyes as white as milk, waiting for a careless pedestrian to casually stroll over him and offer help. He had been waiting in a pathetic state in his country of origin, so what choice did he have other than to steal a plane and stop the wedding from taking place? He had to show initiative. He had to prove to her that he could do it. To do something, or at least to try. How could Sally Armstrong, a name so beautiful, marry a douche bag like Bob Grost? It sounded too much like Blob Gross, or Boob Gross. Fuck that! Adam Daniels could either die a helpless, lonely-fart-bag in his stained white undershirt, or get off his ass and save the girl he loved; however, when he stole the plane, he didn't think flying it would be all that difficult-what with everything being automated now-and managed to crash it, once again fucking up the simplest of tasks. ‘Never send the mediocre to do a hero's job,’ he thought. Such pain. With all of his life's bad luck, he knew for sure he would survive. Shit, at this point, he wasn't sure what the worst outcome could possibly be, but somehow it found him and always surprised him. Never disappointed. Quiet! Someone's coming.
A woman of 35-37 years of age, pretty but in that, 'I can also built a nice pool deck or put up vinyl siding' kinda way, stepped over Adam, looking down into his teary and blurring eyes. "You o.k.?" Adam saw a figure wearing some kind of open green sweater dangling below billowing waves of sandy brown hair. "Mister? Uh, Hey Mister, you o.k.?" Adam wasn't sure whether or not he was able to speak, so he decided to play it safe and let out a long series of weak airy sounds that escaped from the back of this throat. 'hhaahhhh. HhaaAhhhh. Hhohh. hospital.' He was so excited. The figure elongated itself and the waves of hair and sweater were now one with a disappointing stick with two arms at its sides. Wendy looked about her thinking of what to do. If she dealt with this guy's problem she would have to get to know him and that was simply out of the question. 'I still have to go grocery shopping today,' she thought to herself. "Well shit," she said quietly to herself. "Listen buddy, I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but there isn't a hospital around here for miles, maybe ten or so. And, and, look, I don't have a car, alright, I take the bus, so I can't help you alright? I'll try and have someone call an ambulance for you ok." Wendy let out a forceful pocket of air from her lungs and looked around for the nearest and most convenient person available. Seeing no one other than an old gentleman across the street, having some trouble with a walker that had lost one of its hollowed out tennis balls, she sighed again, this time with a surrendering defeat. "This isn't my day," and decided to look for a pay phone.
Adam, was confused as to what this figure in front of him might be doing at this point. She had said very little and didn't appear to be moving around as people do when they are helping with an emergency situation. When she had taken a few steps east, then west, then south, she finally left heading north, or whatever direction was directly over Adam's head. He thought he'd give it one more shot. 'Hhhaaaa, HHoooosspitallll!'
The worst had already happened. Adam survived the plane crash. When he woke up, fat and grossly unqualified nurses surrounded him. "Well then, somebody finally decided to join the land of the living." The nurse bent over him putting ungodly amounts of pressure on his broken ribs with her unnaturally gargantuan breasts, while she struggled with the new iv needle. Adam managed to turn his head slightly to his right, watching in amazement at his own stupefying inability to affect change upon himself. He was at the mercy of the idiotic and mediocre. People like him never got the best of the best.
After a remarkably cheap discharge from the hospital-Sally wasn't full of shit about their health care after all-Adam was surprised to see a lanky, thirty-something-year-old, waiting in the lobby, holding a cigarette, upset that she was unable to smoke. Wendy Dossimer darted her eyes at and around Adam with a child's impatience. "Well, you ok now, or what?" Adam instinctively grabbed at his side as one does when looking for sympathy. "I guess. Who are you?" Wendy sighed, looked toward the ceiling and decided to light up anyway. "Figures you know. No thanks or nuthin. I'm the one that saved your ass you know." Wendy turned and walked toward the electronic sliding doors exiting the lobby with a familiar finger pointed at Adam. "So long asshole."
Adam, unable to move quickly, hobbled across the short carpet displacing new born scabs on his body and caught up with the woman who may have cruelly brought him back to life. "Wait. Wait." Hearing Adam's desperate panting, Wendy stopped never turning her back. "What? What do you want?" Adam hated saying sorry, but that's just what you do when someone saves your life and you don't thank them, or worse you stare at them wondering why in the fuck did they have to save you when they could have left you there like any other decent person. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't recognize you. I'm not even sure how I got here. If you brought me help, then, well, thanks." Wendy finally turned around to face Adam. He was expecting a slightly prettier face, but was caught instead between disappointment and relief at the sight of her. She blew out smoke as she said, "Something tells me you're full of shit, you know that?" Adam confirmed her suspicion when he looked down at the ground and then away into the parking lot feeling ashamed. "You're probably right. Well, I don't want to take up any more of your-"
Wendy butted in, "Yes please don't."
"time."
Wendy began fidgeting with any accessories on her body and then gave Adam Daniels a most disturbing good bye. "Yeah, well. Just know that if I run into you again and you need help, don't hesitate to ask someone else alright?" With that, Wendy did her best to permanently leave Adam's presence when he asked her one final question. "Uhh, sorry but, what day is it." Without missing a step away from Adam, Wendy yelled from across the parking lot, "Saturday." Adam perked up his head and took a deep breath. "SHIT! The wedding. I should still have a few hours."
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