Destroyer of Words
Join Date: Apr 2007
Re: Setting the scene game, Mark II
The rain had eased off, or perhaps it was just starting to gather itself together for another onslaught, and the streets were becoming populated again with people declaring that they never expected this much rain in August, for crying out loud.
"What do you reckon it is," someone said. "Government cloud-seeding program, or armageddon?"
"Cumulo nimbus," a road-sweeper who had heard the question replied.
Alan Marsh laughed a little and his wife nudged him and smiled. Perhaps no two other people in the world, Al thought to himself, would have either heard the exchange or shared a moment of amusement over it. He held her arm tighter to him and squeezed her hand a little and she leaned her head on his shoulder for two more steps.
"Hey, Al! Where ya been? This yo liddle lay-deh?"
Al looked around and met the wonderous eyes of Wanda Wellcome (he hadn't believed it was her real name when she'd first told him it and, though he'd read all the James Bond books ever written and seen two of the films, he couldn't get it out of his head that she had taken her name from an Ian Fleming).
"Hi, Wanda, yes, this is Patty. Patty," he said turning to his wife, "this is the hooker I've been telling you about."
"Oh, hullo," said Patty, "Al has told me so much about you, I really can't wait until New Year's eve."
"What's happening New Year's eve?" Wanda asked, somewhat befuddled.
"Oh, Patty, now, come on, I told you it was meant to be a surprise," Al said and though his words were sternly uttered, his eyes twinkled whimsically.
"It's still going to be a surprise, hon," Patty said. "I haven't told her anything more than the date."
"We havin' a date?" Wanda asked. "You into t'reesomes, then, Al? That yo bag, man?"
"I'll thank you not to refer to my wife as a bag, if you don't mind," said Al, but he performed affront so well that only Patty could be sure he was kidding.
"So, what you an' the stick here got lined up for us New Year?" said Wanda who was not entirely aware of her surroundings, let alone the subtleties of conversational exchange. "Sump'n wit' baby oil, I'll bet. Yo hubby sho likes his baby oil, Martha."
"Patty," said Patty. "Yeah, I know he does."
"You know what else he loves, Tandy?" said Wanda.
"Pretty much," Patty replied and she smiled at her husband's faux embarrassment.
"I'm still here!" he said. "I have ears, you know. Honestly, I've never been embarrassed like this before."
"Plenty of other ways, I'll bet," said Wanda. "So, come on. Spill. What's up New Year's eve? Or should I say, 'who's up'?" She laughed outrageously at the wit and humour of her own remark and attempted to nudge the couple alternately with her elbows but gave up as she felt herself begin to teeter unsteadily.
"Oh, go on, Al, let me tell her. I'm so excited and she's so drunk."
"Oh, all right, as long as she'll forget everything we say in the morning, you can tell her."
Patty clapped her hands gleefully and took Wanda into a pornographic tatoo parlour doorway for some privacy. The door opened, so they moved.
"Don't tell a soul," said Patty, and Wanda swore she wouldn't, half wondering why she would tell anyone about whatever private party this couple had planned, and then she thought of a couple of people so she swore again more vehemently. "We're destroying Vegas at midnight, New Year's eve."
"You bet," said Wanda.
"Al here's an angel, you see."
"You bet he is, sweetie," said Wanda, winking at the man in question.
"So am I, if it comes to that."
"I'll bet," said Wanda again.
"He does the raining fire," said Patty, "and I do the pestillence."
"I've never heard of those," said Wanda who thought she knew every position there was.
"We're cleaning up the planet, starting with the whore palaces and gambling houses, then we're moving on to the money lenders and corrupt politicians. It's really so exciting. My first, you know."
"Yeah, well, honey, way I see it, you'll always remembers yo first," Wanda said and she winked.
The Engine Room of a Toy Factory