Courting the Twins (837 hits)
Category: RomanceRating: 1.27 on 19 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by X54 (View user info) at 2009-10-29 00:37:44 EDT
She raps shiny pink fingernails perfunctorily on the door's peeling paint. Sunshine warms her back. Lawnmowers sing industrious, internal combustion refrains, exuding complementary aromas of freshcut grass and exhaust. She barges inside, stops while her eyes adjust to the cool gloom. Hammering machine guns, deafening explosions, heartrending screams of pain and agony, flashing yellow and red light emanate from the living room. Choking, stinky-sweet cannabis smoke accentuates the sensation of having stepped onto a battlefield.
She marches forward and strikes what she imagines is an alluring pose at the living room's entrance. The twins sit side by side on the couch, greasy brown hair and identical pasty faces trained on the graphic carnage playing out before them. Only their fingers, twitching spastically on their controllers, betray the presence of life. She coughs, Ahem! but the mayhem drowns her out.
Striding behind them to the far side of the room, she flings aside dingy curtains and shoves open the sliding glass door. Warm, fresh air and sunlight flood the room. The battle pauses. She turns to find them squinting crane-necked at her. "Hey guys," she says, flashing what she imagines is a killer smile. Smoke drifts lazily from the mouth of a three foot glass bong, its insides coated black, standing on the floor beside the couch. She imagines the insides of their lungs. "It's a beautiful day outside."
As one, they turn away. Her smile tightens into a grimace. She's blown them both before, and even fucked one, although she's not sure which. They're hard to tell apart when she's drunk. It might of even been someone entirely else. What she really wants is to do them both at once. Just to say she has. She wishes she could get it over with. "Do you want something to drink?" she asks, strutting to the kitchen. Pausing at the thermostat, she turns down the air conditioner.
"Beer," they say, as the battle resumes. It's not quite as intense with the door open.
The refrigerator is bare except for an icecube tray filled with water. A second tray, empty, sits alone in the freezer. She opens the blinds above the counter. Sunlight fills the sink, littered with dirty paper plates and plastic spoons and beer cans. She wanders down the hall to the bathroom, noting with smug disgust the filth of it. Wrinkling her nose at the dried-on piss overspray corroding the linoleum, she switches on the fart fan. A puss-spattered mirror above the sink draws her attention: wispy-thin, platinum blonde hair teased into a fragile bouffant, startling blue eyes in an otherwise plain face, large nipples and ribs protruding through a tight halter-top. Long, skinny arms. At least she has nice legs, she thinks. And a nice ass, barely covered today in Daisy Duke cutoffs.
Are they too stoned to notice?
Both bedrooms stink of mildew and semen. Clothes, DVDs and miscellaneous junk litter the floors in seemingly identical patterns. Lewd posters. She scans for any sign of female presence; finds, with smug relief, none. Back up the hall she prances, determined to be noticed.
Standing between them and their battle, she gives the arm-and-hand signal for time-out. "You don't have any more beer," she says in the sudden silence.
"We know," says one.
"We thought you were going to the store," says the other.
Spying a red Bic lighter on the floor, she turns and bends double to pick it up. From between her legs she catches them, upside-down, staring at her nalgas. "Did you lose this?" she says, standing up with the lighter. But their gazes have already returned to the frozen instant of destruction on screen. She flicks the lighter, waves it before them. "Helloooo?"
"Do you want some money for the store?" asks one.
"We're out of beer," says the other.
She sighs. "All right. I'll go to the store for you." Pausing on the way out, she calls over her shoulder in what she imagines is a sultry voice, "You guys better make it worth my while."
As soon as her car starts, the twins leap from the couch, scramble for the door, pile into their decrepit pickup with the leaky muffler and drive the back way to cousin Leon's for more gaming.
User Reviews
Submitted by paxilliona (user info) at 2009-11-06 20:57:21 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Fuck You
Submitted by X54 (user info) at 2009-10-30 23:05:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by paxilliona (user info) at 2009-10-30 19:19:16 PDT (#)
Ranking: -1
you people are obsesed with nipples snd dicks and sex.
puss is not the same as pus.
----------
By golly you're right! On both counts! I must have had pussy on my mind when I wrote that.
BTW, obsesed is not the same as obsessed. Bitch.
Submitted by paxilliona (user info) at 2009-10-30 22:19:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1
you people are obsesed with nipples snd dicks and sex.
puss is not the same as pus.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2009-10-30 17:36:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
i liked this but I dont know why
Submitted by ridiculous (user info) at 2009-10-30 01:52:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
+2 though I am inclined to take a point or two because I was that asshole kid on the couch 2 and a half years ago. No twin though.
Submitted by sage104 (user info) at 2009-10-29 22:47:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I snickered upon reading "fart fan".
It's the simple things that amuse us simpletons, I surmise.
Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2009-10-29 21:19:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
NOW THAT WAS SOME FUCKING WIT, RIGHT THERE!
*pats self on back.*
Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2009-10-29 21:18:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
bubba, go tend to the vegetable garden your wife's attempted suicide turned your marriage bed into. she's likely over-fertilized it again.
Submitted by willartstorg (user info) at 2009-10-29 18:08:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2009-10-29 10:42:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
no tuts, i'm just such a nice and caring man that i try not to say things which will hurt anyone's feelings.
===
You low-life, lying retard. Read what you just wrote.
Submitted by LoooseSprocket (user info) at 2009-10-29 13:35:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2009-10-29 10:42:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
no tuts, i'm just such a nice and caring man that i try not to say things which will hurt anyone's feelings.
Submitted by TuTs (user info) at 2009-10-29 10:22:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
It has taken you a while to figure that out scourge.....
Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2009-10-29 10:10:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by TuTs (user info) at 2009-10-29 09:24:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2009-10-29 21:15:39 WST (#)
Ranking: -2
Wow, this was a cliche of terrible. Enjoy, cuntard!
------------
Jeez simon, it couldn't be any worse than that horrible gif. of yours. That thing was just terrible- no cliches and I usually like your stuff. Anyway all good.
----
and I usually like your stuff
AND I USUALLY LIKE YOUR STUFF
so it's official.
tuts is fucking mental.
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2009-10-29 09:29:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
TuTs, it was a joke. Besides I'm just being miserable this morning despite the Phillies victory. Relax, this is uber. Ratings ARE evvv-aaaiiiir-eeeee-thiiinghhh.
Submitted by TuTs (user info) at 2009-10-29 09:24:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2009-10-29 21:15:39 WST (#)
Ranking: -2
Wow, this was a cliche of terrible. Enjoy, cuntard!
------------
Jeez simon, it couldn't be any worse than that horrible gif. of yours. That thing was just terrible- no cliches and I usually like your stuff. Anyway all good.
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2009-10-29 09:15:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Wow, this was a cliche of terrible. Enjoy, cuntard!
Submitted by TuTs (user info) at 2009-10-29 06:33:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I giggled, sounds like my house on a saturday arvo. No twins though.
Submitted by maiorano84 (user info) at 2009-10-29 04:51:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Is she hot?
Submitted by Ducky (user info) at 2009-10-29 01:29:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Heh...
I just watched Dead Ringers and pictured these twins to be Jeremy Irons.


