WRITERS WRITE... WRITING PARTNERS FEUD ~ National Blonde Brownie Day


(Ang was late so Zi phones her, using his leg lamp phone [an imitation of the one from Christmas Story])

Z:  (Whistles the tune from the Man From Lamancha while waiting for her to pick up.  She doesn't.  He sighs and calls again.  He hears a sleepy voice when she answers on the last ring, but doesn't note it, just speaks)  Pick up waffles at the waffle house.

A:  No, hello?  No, good morning?   No, did you notice it's a bright gorgeous day?  No, did you sleep well?  Just bark out an order?

Z:  Did you just wake up?

A:  (Silence for thirty seconds followed by a throat clearing and a louder tone)  Waffles, right?  Strawberry?

Z:  (Grins, knowing he had forestalled all whining and complaining)  Make mine sausage with a side of maple. 

A:  I am thinking I'll pick up some brownies at Bing's for National Blonde Brownie Day.

Z:  (Knowing she had put him on speaker phone, hearing unmistakable sounds of brushing teeth and rushing about, he keeps the phone connection live)  Fine.  While you get ready, I'll story you:

Farmer Brown, who lived in the dale, near the river and round the bend, was lying on his deathbed barely able to breathe.  Just as he was about to expire, the aroma of freshly baked brownies came to him. He had always had a passion for this confection and for the first time in many days, he found an appetite and thought to himself, "If I could just have one more brownie I could die in peace!"

He called to his wife, "Patty....  Patty....  Patty Whacker."  His voice was so frail she could not hear him.  Tried again, but still he didn't get an answer.  Sliding slowly and carefully out of the bed, feeling every ache in his fragile, dying body, he slipped onto the floor.   Inch by inch, he dragged himself across the room and out into the hallway.   Again, he called out as loud as he could, "Patty, m'dear." 

Nothing.

So, down the hall and down the stairs he went ever so cautiously, crawling hand over hand, closer and closer to that heavenly smell. At the bottom of the stairs he pulled himself along painfully -- managing to get his feet, shuffling along, using the wall to keep himself from falling.  The delicious aroma drew him, lured him, gave him a reason for every ragged breath.

He dragged himself across the living room, across the dining room and finally up into his chair at the dining table. Huffing, eyes reddened, hand shaking, he reached across the table and grabbed the tray of freshly baked brownies.

As he pulled the tray towards himself it made a scraping noise, and suddenly he heard his wife yell from the kitchen, "Don't touch the brownies, they're for the funeral!"

Z:  Cold beotch!
A:  (By now, Ang had made it out the door, to the Waffle House, cell phone still on speaker)  The waitress laughed at your story.

Z:  Nice. 

A:  I'm off to the bakery.

Z:  (He heard the car door slam, keys drop, fumbling about, cussing, finally engine starts, squeal of tires)  Here is another story:

 

A neatly dressed salesman brazenly approached a stranger and stopped the man just as he was about to cross the street.  "Sir, would you like to buy a bottle of this mouthwash for $200.00?"

Aghast, the man took a step away, "Are you nuts?  That's robbery!"

The salesman seemed hurt and then tried again, "Sir, since you are a bit irate, I'll sell it to you for 1/2 price at $100.00?"

Again, the man replied bluntly, "You must be crazy pal, now, go away!"

The salesman then reached into his briefcase and pulled out two brownies and began munching away on one of them. He told the irate guy, "Sir, please share one of my brownies since I have annoyed you so much."

Unwrapping the brownie, the guy took a bite.  His lips pinched, eyes watered, and then  suddenly, the guys spat out a brown mass and said, "Hey," he snarled, "this brownie tastes like crap!"

"It is," replied the salesman. "Wanna buy some mouthwash?"

Z:  Cold dude!

A:  I'm at the bakery.  Sample tray!  Yea! 

Z:  Make my brownies maple frosted. 

A:  I'll have to wait to have them frosted.

Z:  I just put on a pair of ass-less chaps.  If you don't hurry I'll change out of them.  (He teases because he can)  I'll tell you one more story.

            One day there was a woman waiting for her husband to come home from work.

When he got there she said in a crone's tone, “Listen, I need you to fix the stairs, they are creaking again.”

Her husband tossed off his jacket, undid his tie, and replied with aggravation, “Look, I had a hard day at work all I want is to have a beer and go to bed. Does it look like I have carpenter written across my forehead?” So he had his beer, burped and went to bed.

The next day when he came home from work his wife said in a not as cordial voice, “Listen, I need you to fix the pipes, they are leaking, again.”

Her husband applied the same routine as the day before, “Look, I had another hard day at work, all I want to do is have a beer and go to bed. Does it look like I have plumber written across my forehead?” So he had his beer, burped and went to bed.

The next day he came home from work and asked his wife, “What is it, what do you want this time? Yesterday it was the pipes the day before that it was the stairs. What do you want, now?”

His wife replied, “Oh, nothing dear, the neighbor came over and took care of everything.”

Her husband replied, “Oh, that’s good, how much do we owe him?”

She said, “Nothing, he said I could either bake him a tray of brownies or sleep with him.”

Her husband asked jokingly, “Well, what did you do, bake him a tray of brownies or sleep with him?”

She replied, “What does it look like, I have Betty Crocker written across my forehead?”

A:  (Breathlessly appears, clicking the cell phone off)  I am here!   (Laughs as she prepares the table with all the breakfast goodies)  I get it.  Paybacks can be a bitch!

Z:  Your point?

A:  I ran all these errands for you... wait!  I owe you. 

Z:  But... you were late!

A:  Because of you!

Z:  No way!

A:  Way!  (Places the biggest brownie on her own plate and using a pointer finger swipes the maple frosting off of his brownie)

 

CHASING YESTERDAY EXCERPT

 

His face opened up in a grin, so beautifully white and disarming, a grin that contrasted against the curve and texture of masculine lips and the tawny sun glow of his complexion. For Elizabeth it was a can’t-catch-your-breath-upon-seeing-it type of grin, a come-on-let’s-play type of grin, a you-had-my-heart-at-first-sight type of grin.  Elizabeth couldn’t know her responding smile dazzled with charm and come-hither enticement. She understood, however, she wanted him to come to her; she did her best to show that yearning, waiting, as well home-schooled daughters were taught. Her gaze flicked away, returned with a gentle toss of bronze-toned wavy hair, highlighted by the sun-sheen.  One side of his lip lifted a bit higher as if in acknowledgement of her flirtatious behavior. Her smile turned sweet, her glance found the ground, all actions that teased and offered. She would wait for his response. Give him those few moments to approach. However, her patience

was dishonored, for when she looked back his way, he wasn’t there.

 

"Scoundrel," she lashed out, "Tease!" Elizabeth sniggered, knowing she had him hooked, as did that lad earlier to his fish. She knew the game, watched it, men

chased though acted as if they didn’t whereas women said they never chased but did.

***
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Angelica Hart and Zi ~ Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane
www.champagnebooks.com - www.carnalpassions.com - angelicahartandzi.com








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