Monday 18 April 2011

The Serial Breast Offender and His Fishing Victim

Me and Chris have decided to give things another go. He finally apologised for telling everyone that I had weird shaped tits. He said it's a year, so we should make a new start. He called me on the phone and he told me that he was still in love with me and he just couldn’t;t stop thinking about me all the time. He asked me to meet him that evening at 7:30pm in our local, The Goose, but I said 8, just to have that edge. It took me all afternoon to get ready for our date, and I'd made doubly sure that I'd picked all of the yellow heads off my spots, shaved those tiny black hairs that never go away from my top lip, but most of all I ensured that I picked up a pair of pants from the 'almost clean' pile, just in case things were to go a bit further.

So, I met him at the pub later that evening; he was already there, at a table with a glass of wine waiting for me. I approached the table and sat down opposite to him, and we exchanged the typical “Hello, hellos”- the preamble. I took a sip of the wine at which he snatched the glass from my hand saying “Sorry, that's mine. If you want one, you know where the bar is.” I was a bit embarrassed from assuming that he had made a gentlemanly gesture, so I did exactly as he suggested and ordered a bottle of wine. He had his glass, but I had my bottle, and I wasn't going to share a drop. I chose to order red wine, even though I hate it, I thought it would make me look classy and mature.

I returned over to where we were sitting and placed my purchase firmly on the table, putting it directly in front of his line of sight. “What have you brought red for? You know you don't like red, don't you”, he asked.

“Well, a lot of things have changed since we last saw each other Chris.”
“But that was only last week?”

I ignored his comment, and poured myself a glass, only just about managing to not heave as I drank it. The evening dragged as we chatted and drank more and more, and I finally got round to asking him why he had made the nasty-weird-breasts comment about me, the very reason we'd split up in the first place. I expected him to say that it was just a silly little lie that got a bit out of hand, but what he actually said was : “ Well, they are a bit strange, aren't they? I mean, they're completely different sizes- you have to admit. Your nipples as well... a bit wonky I'd say. I don't mean any of this in a bad way though, you know what I'm sayin'?” No, I didn't know what you were 'saying' Chris, you absolute arse hole.

I heard the front door swing open, and I looked around to watch it, as something to do to fill the awkward tension that has arisen from not knowing what someone had meant by completely slating you, but in a nice way, however that might happen... I recognised the face that had just walked into The Gooose, it was Ben unfortunatley. Ben is Chris' older brother, I should have known before that there would be a chance of bumping into him. Ben is also a massive twat that likes to get as many twats as possible. I probably wouldn't mind all that much if a million bees stung him in the eyes, or a train ran over his little toes, or anything else like that really. By the looks of things he had yet another girlfriend, who I had noticed, had incredibly large breasts, I'm sure they were actually bigger than her own head. I bet no one has ever told her she lop-sided tits or whatever Chris had said.

Not long after Ben had entered, a group of his mates had follwed behind him. As they walked over to the bar, Ben had caught my eye, I looked away far to quickly to conceal the fact I was trying to avoid being seen. “Well, well, what's this then” Ben trumpted from his big trumpet mouth “The happy couple back together again? Come on then everyone you miserable shits, this needs drinks to celebrate.” I did a double-take, there was no fucking chance I was getting back with his breast abusing arse of a brother, even if he isn't quite as much of an arse as you. An arse is an arse either way.

Ben left us to head for the bar, and Chris leaned over the table to take my hands into his and told me
I'm really glad that you've stopped being so childish, so we can give this another chance. You really have got to stop being so sensitive.” I faked a smile, and wormed away from his grasp, making the excuse that I needed another drink. This was a complete lie of course, I'd sank the whole bottle of red that I'd brought and felt thoroughly pissed, but still, I ordered a vodka and coke, then returned to where we were sat. Ben had placed two shots of something on the table for me, I tried to get out of drinking them but Ben kept on and on, pressuring me to drink. Then Chris chimed in “Go on Ruth, you don't always have to be so boring. I've had mine.” I weighed up the situation and decided that a couple of tiny shots was not worth letting Chris shoot me down again, plus the fact that I'd been practically forced to be someone's girlfriend. It couldn't really have got much worse I figured. So, I necked them back one after another. I felt them burn my throat and I heard my stomach let out a tell-tale gurgle of warning of what was to come.

I got straight out of my seat and shot towards the toilets, with my head bent down, clutching my mouth. I wasn't looking where I was going and ended up in a head- on collision with Ben's new girlfriend. The blow of the impact instantly unleashed the load and I did the deed all over her legs. I heard her do a little scream, followed by Ben yelling “Chris! Get her out of here, she's a fucking mess”, as I flopped pathetically to the floor. I felt Chris drag me across the pub and out of the front door. He let it slam shut against my head...

I woke up this morning feel like someone had tipped cat litter down my throat, and the events of last night were a little hazy. I sat up in bed and saw Chris walk through my bedroom door.
Morning” he grunted.
Good morning.”
I brought you a knife and fork.”
Oooh, breakfast in bed, eh?”, I knew he wasn't all that bad really.
Um no. It's just probably the only way you're gonna fish those chunks out of the sink.”

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