Page 129 of Merry Christmas, You Filthy Animal
Storee:That’s so hot. How did you finish the night?
Max:Satisfied.
Storee:No, like... what did you do after you had her sit on your face?
Max:Oh ha-ha. We cuddled and now she’s still sleeping while I’m making some instant coffee and texting you.
Storee:Wow, what a night.
Max:The best part of it all is that she told me that she believes me, that she doesn’t believe what Dwight said. She doesn’t believe that I’m the man Dwight has said I am.
Storee:Wow, that might be better than the sitting-on-the-face situation.
Max:Ehh, I don’t know, I really liked her coming all over my tongue like that.
Storee:You dirty, dirty man. I had no idea. If you need some pointers, I have some good ideas...
Max:I’m not doing anything with a candy cane!
Storee:You say that now.
Max:No. But thank you for helping me. I really like her, Storee.
Storee:Aww, I’m so glad. What are you doing today?
Max:In my mind, hanging out, getting to know each other more. Checking on the farm. I first need to see if she wants to stay.
Storee:Pretty sure she’s going to want to stay.
Max:I hope so.
Storee:She will. But to secure the deal, bring her breakfast in bed.
Max:Do you think Pop-Tarts and instant coffee will be good enough?
Storee:What kind of Pop-Tarts?
Max:Cherry, of course.
Storee:Then yes, I think it will be good enough.
Max:Okay . . . off to please my queen.
Storee:AHHHHHHHH! Good luck.
Betty
The crackling of the fire is the first thing to wake me up.
The second thing is a thump sound, followed by Atlas swearing.
“Motherfucker,” he says under his breath.
I open my eyes and see him leaning over, wincing in pain.
Wrapped up in an immense number of blankets, I wiggle my head out just enough to say, “Are you okay?”
His eyes meet mine, and he replies, “Shit, did I wake you?”
