My Thursday Throwback

by Olivia Gaines

  “Persephone, I don’t want to fuck my sister,” Michael told her. “I love her with all my heart, but the only woman I want to stick my wee-wee in for the rest of my life is you.”

  “Wow, so romantic,” Pip said, looking at Zelda, whose eyebrows were arched in surprise at Michael’s words.

  “I’m drunk. I can’t be romantic when I’m drunk! I can say what is on my mind, and I love you. I want you to be my wife. I brought you a ring that I was going to bring to Cincinnati, but all that talk about your Mama was scary. Then the hurricane. I have it in my bag, but I am sleepy and my ass hurts,” he said.

  Scott, on the other hand, took a more direct route.

  “Zelpa! Dammit!” he said. “You are my woman and I need you to break up with Michael so you can be free to love me.”

  “I do love you, you big idiot,” she said, still trying to piece everything together between what her brother was saying and Scott mispronouncing her name.

  “This is what we are going to do. I’m going home. While I’m gone, you are going to get some counseling. You get the first session free. Go to every mu-fuc...wait, bad words in front of ladies is a no-no,” Scott said reaching for the couch, missing, landing on the floor.

  He continued his king of the castle decree, “You shall go to every headshrinker in Vegas to unwind the pizzle. Talk it out, get clear.”

  “You think that will work?” Zelda asked, questioning the clarity of his drunken mind.

  “It’s better than doing nothing, Baby. It’s better than writing your anger on pages no one sees or reads. When this Vegas thing is over, you are going to meet my family, then we are going to set a date, and you are gonna...we gonna get married,” he said, the Kentucky accent roaming free. “I love you and this mu-fuc...oops bad word, the room is spinning.”

  “I love you as well, Scott,” she said.

  “Good. We have a plan and I want a cookie,” he said, leaning his head back on the couch, falling asleep with squished meatballs in his hand, urine soaked pants and covered in some form of grease all over his arms. To Zelda, her big hairy man he had never looked more lovable.

  “Zelda, I’m going to take Michael to my suite,” Pip said, placing her arm around him while using her hand to grab his luggage.

  “Good night, Pip,” Zelda said, struggling with a six foot two, two hundred and twenty-five-pound man. After a few minutes, she opted instead to remove the damp clothing, put a pillow under his head, and let him sleep where he lay. As he once told her, sometimes, you have to let sleeping dogs lie.

  She would take care of him in the morning.

  Chapter 11 – Say What Now?

  IN THE BACKGROUND, a chiming phone rousted Zelda from a restful sleep but she found her body damp with sweat. Reaching for the nightstand, she grabbed her phone, pressing the button to answer and quickly discovering her sweat soaked body had gotten that way by a naked Scott. Evidently, during the night, he made a trip to the bathroom and unable to get his underwear figured out in his inebriated state, and opted to go without them.

  “Hello,” Zelda said softly.

  Scott rolled over, cupping one of her breasts, moaning happily as if he’d found a rare treasure. He smelled terrible. It was a mixture of sweat, vomit, and something foul only found after a tawdry night in Las Vegas.

  “Ms. Fitzsimmons, is Mr. Berger with you?” Chandler asked.

  “Yes, he is. Is everything all right?”

  “I was about to ask you the same thing. A few moments ago, I received a call on Mr. Berger’s phone from the banquet manager at the Aladdin Hotel & Casino. Apparently, Mr. Berger and his friend, I assume this was Michael based on the description, damaged the buffet with a pet monkey,” Chandler said with no humor in his voice.

  “Say what now?” Zelda said, sitting up in bed.

  “As it was explained to me, the two men allowed the monkey to eat directly from the buffet, forcing them to throw out all the food. When the hotel management tried to stop their antics, Mr. Berger accused the staff of being racist,” Chandler said.

  “Racist against Michael?”

  “No madam, to the monkey,” Chandler said without laughing. “Mr. Berger left his number with the manager so they would be able to call him to pay for the damages. He left his phone with the gondola driver at the Venetian to call him to pay the reparations to his clothing.”

  “What? How were they going to call him if he left the phone?”

  “Exactly, which is why I am calling you to check on the health and well-being of them both.”

  “They came in last night drunk. Scott was covered in some kind of grease and soaking wet. I can’t even start to tell you half of the stuff Michael said, but they are safe,” she told him.

  “Good enough,” he replied.

  “Chandler, does he get drunk like this often?”

  The line was quiet. “I have never known him in 24 years to get drunk Ms. Fitzsimmons, which is also what prompted my call. Not meaning to pry, but again, is everything all right between the two of you?”

  “I’m broken, but trying to mend. It will not happen overnight and there is some give and take, and Scott possibly feels as if he is doing all of the giving. I’m not a taker Chandler but, I guess, I’m not trusting my own legs to carry me,” she said softly.

  “Stand up, move forward one step at a time. If you should stumble, fall, or trip, you are surrounded by people who will help you find a balance,” Chandler said with some emotion in his voice. “You will be at home here in Kentucky.”

  “If you say I will be treated like family, I will crawl through this phone and smack you sideways,” she said.

  Chandler chuckled. “I despise that term as well, Madam.”

  Zelda held the phone, looking at Scott, touching the side of his face. “We are all fine, Chandler. Thank you for checking on him and on us.”

  “The phone will be delivered momentarily via courier to where you are staying. Knowing Mr. Berger as I do, he probably has chronicled much of the adventure. I would pay good money to see the contents of that phone,” Chandler said. “Enjoy your day.”

  For the first time, she understood the connection between Scott and Chandler was deeper than an employer and his butler. Chandler was Scott’s lifeline just as Michael was hers. The more she thought about it, she realized that she and Michael were a lifeline to Grandma Lula. She was a lifeline to Wilke and Scott was her line to a different kind of life.

  “You can easily become my everything,” she said, leaning down to kiss his cheek, waking him. His breath hit her like a big fist in the middle of her face. “Good Lord!”

  “Growl,” he said, rolling over to his back. “Did you get the name of the truck that backed up over me?’

  “Maybe it was being driven by the monkey you took to the all you can eat buffet,” she said sarcastically.

  Scott’s hands came up over his eyes, “Dear Jesus, that was real wasn’t it?”

  Zelda touched the loose strand of hair that fell over his eye, pushing it back from his forehead. “Anything else you remember?’

  “Unfortunately. Your brother threw coins at me when I was dancing on stage at a strip club. One of the men thought I was a hermaphrodite and offered me money to perform a lewd act on him,” he said, frowning. His head hurt and throbbed. All he wanted to do was stay in bed all day and forget the entire letting loose escapade ever happened.

  “Scott, did you have fun yesterday?”

  He thought about it for a minute, until the few ideas in his head also made the gray matter jiggle and hurt. “Actually, I did.”

  “Then that’s what matters. You did it all and managed not to get arrested,” she said.

  “Well, I think we came close several times.” He tried to not laugh, his head pounded with not so subtle reminders. The sound of the doorbell made his eyebrows twitch in pain. “Who the hell is at your door this early in the morning?”

  “It is probably your phone showing up,” she said throwing back the covers, bounding to her f
eet. Her modest pajamas covered her sufficiently as she peered out the peephole. A man on the other side of the door held up the phone.

  “I have Mr. Berger’s phone,” the man said.

  “One moment,” Zelda replied, grabbing a twenty from her wallet to tip the man through the crack in the door. Accepting the phone and passing the twenty, she thanked the courier, almost anxious to see what was on the phone. She powered it on, waiting for it to light up. She slid her finger across the screen but it was password protected.

  “Baby, unlock your phone so we can see what you and Mike got into yesterday,” she said.

  “Whatever happened, I am never speaking to your brother again and I am uncertain why my ass is hurting,” he said frowning as he rubbed his hand over his backside.

  “Scott, do your hocks hurt, or your actual anus?” She said, growing concerned that the two of them had befallen some serious harm.

  “Not quite my bunghole, but, you know like the seam. It’s really sore and tender,” he said rolling to his side.

  “Maybe there will be a trail of breadcrumbs in the phone to explain what happened to your butt as well as your adventures in Las Vegas,” she said, handing him the phone for his password. He complied using his fingertip to slide over the screen and open the phone.

  “Okay, let’s go to pictures, and we will start at the back...Oh my Jesus!” She said, scrolling through the photos. In reverse order, she went through the photos of Scott and Michael in the gondola. She frowned at the image of her brother urinating off the side of the small boat to the horror or parents covering the eyes of their children. Michael must have held the phone, snapping photos of Scott as he hurled meatballs, chunks of something brown, and loads of liquid all over the gondola operator.

  Photo after photo of her brother and future husband, unleashed on Las Vegas would have been enough to have them both jailed for indecency, especially after the video of Scott in the strip club, with his man meat dangling from under the leg of his boxers. She didn’t want to laugh at him being chased down the street by security at the Bellagio, but he had the phone recording as he screamed: “you can’t catch me copper.”

  Next came the image of the Capuchin monkey at the Aladdin, but her mouth dropped and breath was taken away by the images which came next. Images which explained why Scott’s butt was sore.

  He and Michael paid a visit to an adult toy store specializing in unique items for adult pleasure. In the store was a specialized chair for women to take a seat, insert an attached friend and vibrate. The video showed Michael trying to convince Scott to try the chair, but the store owner advised them, there was a model made especially for men. A chair which vibrated and massaged the male underside which had special indentations to hold the testicles. Michael tried the chair first, jumping up with an obvious erection. The surprised look on his face made Zelda press her lips together to stifle the laughter. He looked as if he’d just discovered the pleasure of touching a breast. Overcome with joy, he encouraged Scott to try the chair as well.

  The video showed 45 minutes of two drunken adult men having way too much fun in a vibrating chair. At one point, it seemed they were fighting over whose turn it was next.

  “I think I found out why you ass is hurting,” she said showing him the video. Scott frowned in disgust as he viewed the replayed images of him and Michael fighting over whose turn it was to have their balls massaged by an inanimate object. Each time the chair vibrated, in what she assumed was his butt crack, the video showed Scott raising his knees, allowing a deeper vibration and grinning.

  “Well, that explains that,” he said frowning. “I think I bought that stupid chair.”

  Zelda fell back into the pillows laughing loudly. She had heard of letting loose, but Michael and Scott around alcohol was a bad idea. She leaned down and kissed his cheek.

  “Let’s just stay in bed all day,” she suggested.

  “That sucks even more than me being molested by a chair,” he grumbled. “I am too hung over to do anything but lie here and hope the room stops moving.”

  “I will take care of you today,” she told him.

  “Zelda, I am hoping that can be more permanent,” he said, trying to muffle the sound of his lips moving against his teeth. It sounded so loud.

  “Scott, I am willing to take care of you for the rest of our lives. I look forward to learning how you will become my everything.”

  “You don’t want to talk about all the stuff we fought about yesterday?”

  “We didn’t fight. It was a discussion. I disagreed with some of your finer points, and you left in a huff. Scott, I am not going to heal in a few months, but if you are still willing to go on this journey with me, then I am all in,” she told him.

  “For a moment there yesterday, I was scared that it was all coming to an end,” he said fluffing the pillow, wishing the stuffing inside of it would be quieter when he turned over.

  “You aren’t getting away from me that easily, Scott Berger,” she said leaning over, resting her head on his chest. “Or should that be Scott, Mu-Fuckin’ Ham- Berger?”

  “Good grief, I can’t believe we recorded our stupidity,” Scott said.

  “No, it’s good to see a different side of Scott. It shows me that you will be able to have some fun with our children,” Zelda said softly.

  “I do look forward to making some babies with you,” he said, trying to laugh. “I can’t make a smile today, but Zelda, I am going to marry you.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, that’s what you keep promising,” she said. “I tell you what, today, we stay in bed and plan for our future together.”

  “Nope. I am going back to sleep and pray when I wake up that I am sober,” he said, turning. His fingers grazed her hand as he rolled to his side.

  “I love you and I want my happily ever after,” she told him.

  “And you shall have it,” he told her. “Right now, I want to see your brother and sock him in the nose for getting me this drunk. I went to bed drunk. I woke up drunk. I’m still drunk.”

  A light tap came at the door.

  “What in the hell Zelda? Does everyone want to come over this morning,” Scott groaned? He sighed deeply, opening one eye to look at her. “I love you, too, but please, find me some aspirin.”

  Zelda bounded from the bed to the front room of the suite, peering out the peephole to see a grinning Pip at the door. She opened it to have Pip bounce through the door like Tigger, Michael, red-eyed staggering in behind her. She threw her left hand into Zelda’s face showing off the sparkling ring.

  “Michael and I are engaged!” She squealed.

  Her brother frowned at the loud pitch of his new fiancé’s voice, praying silently she would stop talking forever, or at least until the throb stopped in his head. He mumbled Scott’s name and Zelda pointed toward the bedroom.

  “Is he awake?” Michael asked.

  “Kinda,” Zelda said going back to Pip’s ring.

  “That is beautiful Pip! Congratulations,” Zelda told her, returning the embrace. “Come on in. I’m starved, let’s start some breakfast for everyone.”

  Arm in arm they went into the kitchenette, chattering away about wedding dates, her move to Texas as well as Zelda’s move to Kentucky. Michael held the wall as he moved with baby steps into the bedroom, finding Scott partially covered by a sheet in the king-sized bed.

  “I am still drunk... having trouble standing, so move over,” Michael said, easing his way onto the bed, laying back on the pillows.

  “Me too,” Scott said. “Yesterday was a bad idea.”

  “You’re telling me? I don’t remember a great deal of it, but I do vaguely recall telling you that I loved you,” Michael said. “Or am I confusing that with someone else?”

  “Nope. You told me you loved me,” Scott said, trying not to laugh.

  “Please tell me that has nothing to do with my asshole is hurting,” Michael mumbled, looking at the ceiling, wondering why it was moving in waves.

  Scott felt aroun
d the bed finding his phone, sliding his finger over the screen to pull up the video of them having an intimate relationship with a testicular massaging, ass crack vibrating chair.

  “I had sex with a chair,” Michael said flatly.

  “Well, at least it wasn’t the one with the cock sticking up in the middle of it,” Scott said chuckling but stopped mid-laugh due to the pain in his head.

  “Man, I also managed to get engaged last night. I don’t remember that shit either,” Michael added.

  “Does she have a ring?”

  “Yeah, she has the one I bought for her.”

  “Congrats,” Scott said.

  “No. I have to go and meet her mother. Scott, she sounds scary and it also seems likes she is going to be a bigger pain in my ass than the one I am currently experiencing from the crack violating chair,” Michael said solemnly.

  “Don’t worry about it. What I am worried about is Zelda meeting my family. They are nuts,” Scott said.

  “Speaking of nuts, mine hurts too,” Michael said, almost choking trying to stop the laughter. ‘What in the hell did we do yesterday?”

  “We stole a monkey and took it to an all you can eat buffet. I did a striptease act at a fetish strip club, and if I’m not mistaken, I bought the ball tickling, ass crack vibrating chair,” he said. “I think you bought one too.”

  They started to laugh and stopped due to the thumping pain in their heads. Both groaning and curling up into balls, facing opposite of each other.

  “Hey Mike,” Scott said softly.

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks.”

  “For what, getting us both drunk and making complete asses out of ourselves?”

  “Yep. It was the best day I have had in a long time,” Scott mumbled.

  “Whatever. Just don’t tell anyone I was jacked off by a chair, am lying in bed with you or that whole I love you thing,” Michael said.

  “The last part is okay by me because I love you too man,” Scott said.

  “Whatever. Just promise me you are going to take good care of my sister.”