A kind of a love scene..
I was looking over a scene from my satire, feeling frustrated and drinking a rum and coke, saw this "writing critique thread" so I figured I'd throw it in here... it's Friday night..... cheers..
The room inside, much like the Flamingo bar only cleaner, was decorated in pink satin sheets. Pictures of dolphins and other amphibious creatures of the deep were painted on the walls. Cecile went to the kitchenette and mixed Jack a drink of rum and ice. She set it in front of him and tossed him the TV remote.
“Get comfortable,” she said, then stepped into the bathroom.
Jack sat down on the bed and flicked on the television, casually sipping his rum. Things were going ok. Sure, it wasn’t like sharing a romantic evening by the seaside with Paradise Parker, but it was certainly better than listening to Wetterman bellyache about being in love with an illegal alien named Rosa Cruz who couldn’t speak a word of English. Furthermore, unlike some of his other flings, Cecile had a good and wholesome quality. She was a breath of fresh air rising out of the smog of his many superficial romances.
A minute later he heard the door knob turn. Cecile emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing but a fiery red negligee that highlighted every delicious curve of her body. Stricken by the sight, he nearly lost control and dropped his drink on the carpet. The girl grabbed a beer out of the ice box and sat down beside him on the bed.
“I hope I’m not being too forward.” Cecile giggled and rubbed her naked thigh against his leg. Taking a gulp from her bottle, she left out a feminine belch. “I like beer. Usually I skimp on meals so I can drink more of it without compromising my figure. Maybe I’m developing a problem.”
“There’s always AA,” Jack suggested, visibly taken off guard by the girl’s bold advance. “Perhaps you drink because you don’t feel good about yourself.”
“I don’t feel good about myself,” she confirmed.
Jack was stymied. How could he possibly tell the girl all of her problems when she already knew them?
Regardless of her faults, an air of innocence surrounded her as she stared at him through half drunken eyes. Perhaps she led a sheltered life and was still green to the cruelties of the superficial world. Undoubtedly she was naïve and probably a virgin in want of discovering her female sexuality.
Not wanting to despoil her, he warded off the temptation to take advantage of the young blonde – bleached to perfection – that staked her emotional hopes and blameless world of innocence on his every move.
“Maybe we should talk,” Jack suggested.
“Talk.” Cecile looked confused. “What’s that?”
“Like what’s your favorite flavor ice cream or perfume. Tell me a few things about you.”
“Oh,” it suddenly came to her, “you mean talk.” She drained the last of her beer and sighed. “I’m suicidal,” she confessed. “I lived on anti-depressants before my sixteenth birthday. My parents, both alcoholics, took me to countless psychologists, none of whom offered a solution. I decided to go to college and just prior to flunking out, I went crazy. Sororities, nude hot tub parties, smoking grass and drinking beer were the norm. It’s surprising that I wasn’t diagnosed with some rare and deadly sex disease before the merrymaking ended,” she confessed and kissed his neck. “I guess I’m nothing but a lush and a bum, huh?”
“Yes,” he agreed and thoughtfully sipped his rum.
In spite of a shaded and dismal past, he found himself strangely attracted to the young wench. For one thing, it was wonderful to know that someone else’s troubles were far more depressing than his own. For another, the girl was so vulnerable and pathetic, if not himself, who in the world would ever want to take care of her if she lived?
“Make love to me,” Cecile whispered and nipped his ear.
If the door hadn’t opened at that precise moment, Jack, smitten by the girl’s miserable existence, would have pulled off his tee-shirt and did exactly as she asked.
A bird-like man at least twice Cecile’s age walked in. He had teeth like a gopher and sucked gingerly at his lips. His anemic face had all the color of a bagged corpse left in cold storage.
“Hello pussycat,” he said to the girl.
“Hi Nibbles.” She winked and explained to Jack, “This is Nibbles. If not for him, there’s no telling what disarray my life would be in.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Jack said, not very seriously.
Nibbles had a sinus problem and had a tendency to snort when he talked.
“You kids look like you’re getting ready to screw,” he announced. “Is that what you’re going to do, screw?”
Jack shifted uncomfortably. He pretended not to hear Nibbles at all. Picking up his glass of rum, he intently studied a fabric softener commercial on the television. A hot rush of mortification burned in his cheeks. Something had gone terribly amiss. The lonesome and suicidal antidepressant girl seated beside him wasn’t as naïve as he first supposed. Furthermore, Nibbles had all the charm of an anemic frog.
Cecile whispered sympathetically in his ear, “Don’t be concerned about Nibbles. He’s harmless. A few years ago he had a terrible automobile accident that left him impotent and wilted. He’s truly a compassionate and sensitive man who deeply respects all human beings.”
“Are you going to screw her or not?” Nibbles sounded cranky. He pulled a beer out of the ice box and flopped down on a chair alongside the bed. “The lighting is horrific in this place,” he complained and flicked on another lamp.
“He wants to watch?” Jack was aghast.
The sudden and stark face of Paradise Parker again illuminated the darkened corners of his mind. He wondered what she was doing tonight and dreamed about how nice it would be to touch her hair and hold her in his arms. However, reality was a bullet, and bullets hurt. Instead of walking on a moonlit beach with the waves tickling their toes and sharing a romantic embrace, he was tucked under the sheets with a depressed alcoholic female with suicidal tendencies as a slippery old geezer named Nibbles scrutinized their every move.
“Perhaps I should leave.”
“Don’t be silly.” Cecile disagreed and licked his neck. “Nibbles,” she signaled the geezer, “please be a sweetheart. Would you mind waiting in another room?”
Nibbles grumbled miserably. He offered a snort of protest and then stood up, walked in the bathroom and slammed the door shut.
No sooner than Nibbles disappeared, Cecile tackled Jack on the bed.
“Take me Romeo. Are we not spawning in a fishbowl, awaiting the fruits and passions of our lusts?”
Flabbergasted, Jack tried to pull away. “I’m not even sure what spawning in a fishbowl means.”
The girl straddled herself on top of him and bit his neck hard.
Jack yelped as if stung by a wasp.
A rustling noise from the corner of the room momentarily diverted his attention. He looked up and blinked. It was Nibbles again. The feisty old geezer had crept out of the bathroom. This time he sported a camcorder. An extended zoom lens worked to capture every exotic point of interest.
Jack gasped and forcibly rolled the young vixen off him. Jumping to his feet he zipped up. Cecile grew frustrated at the turn of events. She grabbed a half spent bottle of beer off the nightstand and sat up. Dangling a naked thigh off the side of the bed, she snottily sipped at her drink.
“Don’t you people have any moral values?” Jack yelled.
“No,” said Nibbles and looked puzzled. “You’re taking this too personal. This just happens to be my wife.”
“It’s her birthday,” explained Nibbles. “Every year she gets a present. This year, it just happened to be you.”
Cecile lit a stale cigarette. She carelessly blew smoke rings at the ceiling.
Jack threw his hands in the air. “Is there no shred of common decency left in the world? What would possess a man to take videos of his wife having relentless sex with a total stranger? It’s madness.”
“Don’t be such a sensitive boor.” Nibbles snorted. “Everyone loves home movies. Not to mention, amateur adult videos have a killer profit margin on the streets. As long as the monkey was out of the cage,” he took a swallow of beer, “why not make a few bucks on the side?”
Jack quickly made for the door.
“It isn’t as if I asked you to rob a bank.” Nibbles was touchy. “At least come back and discuss it.” He remained diplomatic. “We can order a pizza from Cheezeroni’s. I’ll even spring for the extra topping.”
Ignoring the offer, Jack bolted out the door. He ran up the boardwalk in the middle of the night towards the Sea Sprocket as if the devil nipped at his heels.
Last edited by J D; 09-30-2011 at 05:10 PM.