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» date rape

Posts Tagged ‘date rape’

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 49,108

Everyone in the courtroom gasped. “Boyd? What kind of fucking name is that?” Bruce cried.

“Totally redneck,” Jessica assured him.

“Who the fuck is that?” Elizabeth said.

The courtroom burst into chaos as the doors opened and a man who looked just like Bruce was escorted to the witness stand by two police officers. As he took his seat, he and Bruce caught eyes, and Jessica could practically feel the hatred radiating from Bruce. Even trashier than cousinbro

06

06 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 47,681

“Here, give me your watch and your barrettes,” Jessica hissed, trying to take the objects without drawing attention to the twins. She quickly pinned back her hair and clipped the watch onto her wrist. “How do I look?”

“Like me,” Elizabeth whispered. She gave her twin a shaky smile. “Good luck.”

“I don’t need luck,” Jessica said dramatically. “I’m an actress.”

As she walked to the stand, Jessica willed her legs forward, even though they felt like two lead blocks that were holding her down. She and Bruce passed, just inches from each other. He looked into her eyes, searching for some kind of sympathy. Finding none, Jessica could pinpoint the split second he realized it was Jessica and not Elizabeth who was going to take the stand. She could practically feel the fear radiating off of him.

Don’t worry, Brucie, she thought with a smirk. I won’t rat you out. Twin switch in action

05

06 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 44,662

Bruce glanced nervously over his shoulder at the twins. It was the most worried Elizabeth had ever seen him. He looks even more worried than that time we saw a hummingbird hovering outside of his office window at Patman Canning, Elizabeth thought. I think he seriously thought it was going to bust through the glass and peck our eyes out!

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Ned continued, “I ask you: Would a man afraid of birds be capable of date rape? By the end of this trial, I’m confident you will come to the same conclusion that I have: No, a man afraid of birds doesn’t have the balls to commit date rape.”

Wow, it’s almost like Dad read my mind, Elizabeth thought. That’s kind of creepy.

Jessica giggled a little bit louder and shifted in her seat as their father took his seat back at the defense table. “Birds!” she repeated, laughing. “I lied: This is the funniest shit I’ve heard all week.” An obscure pop culture reference

03

06 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 42,863

“BFFs,” Amy repeated. “Is that some kind of code for something?”

“Best friends forever, or best fucking friend, something like that,” Elizabeth said. “But that’s not relevant to the accusations that have been made against Mr. Patman.”

“So you’re fucking?” Amy asked, looking down at her notes and nodding. “…and weeping?”

02

06 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 41,203

“For the last time,” Bruce said evenly, “I am not the Sweet Valley date rapist.”

“He’s really not,” Elizabeth piped up. “Officer, I know this may be none of my business, but that’s never stopped me from interfering before. And I can say with about 60 percent certainty that Bruce is not the Sweet Valley date rapist.”

“Thank you,” Bruce said in an exasperated tone. “I’ve been trying to tell this asshole that for the past five minutes.”

“Don’t you know who he is?” Lila demanded of the police officer. “He’s Bruce Fucking Patman!” BPattz, yo

28

04 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 40,211

Sure enough, at the next turn, there was Ken’s Toyota wrapped around a tree, smoke pouring out from under its hood. Todd slammed on the brakes, bringing his car to a stop in the middle of the road and jumping out.

He ran toward Ken’s car, the sharp pellets of rain pelting his face. Please be OK, Ken, he hoped. Please be all right.

Todd could feel the heat of the engine fire as he approached the Toyota. Throwing up one arm to shield his face, Todd moved cautiously toward the car. Any second now, this thing could blow sky high, he thought as he choked on the acrid smoke. It filled his lungs, making it impossible to breathe.

Reaching the driver’s side door, Todd hesitated for a split second before yanking it open. Ken was slumped over the steering wheel, his eyes closed and his face pale. That “fatal” night

27

04 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 32,330

“Besides, I’m not sure I like the name,” he pressed on. “Doesn’t it sound like the Patman Date Rape Crisis Center is for victims of ‘Patman Date Rape’?”

“No, I’m sure everyone will understand that Patman is modifying ‘Date Rape Crisis Center’ and not just ‘Date Rape,’” Elizabeth said quickly.

“I don’t know,” he said. “It could send the wrong message.” I hear the food at the Unicorn Club is awesome

09

04 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 31,103

“Marshall the fifth?” Jessica said into the phone, trying to put on her most sultry voice. “I mean, Stan? It’s me, Elizabeth Wakefield.”

“Elizabeth?” he asked slowly, as if he were trying to place where he remembered her from.

“Yes, Elizabeth,” Jessica said, annoyed, before she remembered that Elizabeth would never take such a tone with anyone, let alone an old man. She cleared her throat and started over, more sweetly this time. “I mean, yes, it’s me, Elizabeth.”

“I don’t—”

“Threesome. Blonde twins. Eyes the color of the Pacific Ocean,” Jessica fired off rapidly. “Crying after every orgasm.” Elizabeth’s Great Idea

08

04 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 28,616

Todd raised an eyebrow. “Bruce is coming to pick you up?”

Elizabeth nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I’m working at Patman Canning now,” she said. “And I’m sleeping with him.”

“You’re doing what?” Todd exclaimed, a look of surprise crossing his face before it was replaced with a look of anger.

“I’m sleeping with him,” Elizabeth said. “You know, fucking.”

“But — but I thought you hated sex,” Todd sputtered. “You cried after every orgasm.” A loving act between two consenting adults

06

04 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 24,358

Bruce looked over at the clock on his nightstand. Elizabeth had been crying for the last 20 minutes. Awkward, he thought. I know I’m good, but she needs to calm the fuck down.

He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face, trying to drown out the image of Elizabeth sobbing. He hoped the servants hadn’t heard her crying — it was perfectly fine that they had heard the moans of passion he had drawn from Elizabeth’s lips, but he had a reputation to uphold. And a crying bitch did nothing for his repuation.

“Do you do this every time?” he asked in a bored tone, staring up at the ceiling.

Elizabeth sniffled. “Y- yes,” she stammered. “I’m sorry, it’s just—”

“Yeah, not interested,” Bruce said coolly, sitting up and covering his enormous package with the bedsheet. “I just want to know if I can expect the same thing next time.” Enormous. Riiiiiiiiiiiight.

08

03 2011