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The nature of the wager was, in itself, innocent, whimsical, comical, a laughable lark: which hot cleaning lady at Sullivan, Zastro, & McCormick would cave first--Zelda, 35, Bosnian, nice skin, smiling, happy all the time, or Missy, dirty blonde hair, 24-ish, of circus folk, kind of pretty from certain angles; the haunted eyes of a nymphomaniac... Alas, the act of the gentleman's wager should have had dark thunderclouds growing in the background, all proper. Even a viper will rattle its tail! Ha! We had so little regard for simple human life that we imagined our dark chick-puppet mastering was all a hoot. Big whoop. Sadly, it was not to be. It was a tie. They grow on you... Matt ended up marrying Zelda, crazy, happy, Zelda & happily ever after. I joined Missy's cult, The Way. Do we celebrate Seasons? Do we celebrate Life? You bet. Also I lost $1.
Date Written: April 03, 2006
Author: Master Bates