Posts Tagged ‘Lila Fowler’

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


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?”


06 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


04 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 39,021

Without thinking, Todd launched into trusty boyfriend mode. He wheezed and hobbled his way over to his own car, yanking open the driver’s side door with a strength he didn’t know he still possessed. The engine turned over with a loud roar, and Todd hit the gas, turning out of the parking lot in the direction Ken had taken.

Where is he? Todd thought, squinting to see farther down the road. None of the cars looked like Ken’s. He pressed his foot down harder on the gas pedal, silently willing the car to go faster. The car shuddered and leaped forward.

Ahead, Todd noticed a car suddenly change lanes, nearly sideswiping a motorcycle. Someone in Sweet Valley still rides a bike? Todd wondered. I thought we all learned that lesson when Elizabeth was in a coma and started acting all slutty! High-speed chase action!


04 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 37,608

“Mr. Collins?” Elizabeth cried.

Mr. Collins looked up at her, startled. And around him peeked Jessica.

“Jessica?” Elizabeth exclaimed. I was wrong, she thought grimly. Things just got a lot worse. She jumped up off of Bruce’s lap and ran toward her sister, not believing that it really was her. The ho stroll


04 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 36,269

“Thanks for the tip, Caroline,” Amy said, jotting down Bruce’s name in her reporter’s notebook and scribbling down a question mark beside it.

“But, speaking of Bruce — you’re going to be so interested in this piece of gossip, although I’m afraid it’s not actually newsworthy — he’s supposedly fucking Elizabeth Wakefield!” Caroline said, nodding furiously. “Can you believe it? Of course, Todd Wilkins is fucking Ken Matthews, so it was only a matter of time before Elizabeth made some bad decisions, but I really thought she’d give Enid Rollins a go, you know? Elizabeth seems too polite to turn anyone down for sex, regardless of her own sexual orientation. Oh, and I have it on good authority that she cries after every orgasm. Every single one! Can you believe it? I’ve never cried after an orgasm, but you know, my boyfriend lives out of town, so I can’t tell you the last time I actually had an orgasm — well, not one given to me by an actual human being and not something with batteries, anyway—” Hold up, bitch


04 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 34,880

She staggered down the street, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand. She didn’t know how far Kelly’s was from the police station, or where she was exactly. Stopping in the middle of the street, she turned in a slow circle, surveying the area. She was somewhere on the outskirts of Sweet Valley, she realized now, taking in the low, long warehouses that dotted the landscape.

From inside one of them, she thought she heard sobbing and a voice calling for help, as well as a few loud banging sounds, but Enid had had enough drug-induced hallucinations to know never to trust her senses. She kept walking toward what she believed to be the center of town. As she approached a small cinderblock building with a sign that read “Unicorn Club,” Enid took note of the marquee out front.

“R U HORNY? WE R,” she read out loud. Then, underneath that, “2 FOR 1 DRINK SPECIALS, NOON TO 5 P.M. MONDAY THROUGH FRIDAY.” Sounds like a good deal


04 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 33,521

“Lila was in her underwear?” Elizabeth asked, confused. She fiddled with one of her barrettes.

“Yeah, I can’t believe you didn’t hear about it,” Winston said. “She actually asked this one to marry her!”

Elizabeth turned to Bruce, the tears overflowing down her cheeks. “Is that true?” she asked.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to get all clingy now that we’ve had lots of mind-blowing sex,” Bruce said in a warning tone. Not cool, bro


04 2011

Post-coital Tristesse — Word Count: 30,225

Lila leaned against her lime green BMW, examining her perfectly polished nails. She sighed loudly. She had been waiting in the parking lot of the Patman Canning factory since sunrise, getting up extra early to make a special effort on her appearance and to have Lucinda change Marshall.

I wonder when he’s going to bother to show up, Lila mused, reaching into her authentic Prada purse for her sunglasses and slipping them on. It looks like the underlings are showing up for work on the — ugh — assembly line. She shuddered as beat-up Hondas and Fords pulled into the parking lot, carrying their owners to another grueling day of work.

After what seemed like hours, they were followed by a vintage black Porsche, squealing into the parking lot as it took the turn a little too fast. Lila straightened up and pulled down the neckline of her minidress so it showed off an ample amount of cleavage. If there was one thing Bruce couldn’t resist, it was a nice set of tits, Lila remembered. They look like two bald toddlers butting heads with each other, she thought, looking down at her breasts. Perfect! Nice rack


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.


03 2011