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Coffee At Starbucks
Another twisted tale involving your favorite superhero's, Nullman and Superman.
Just another human being, or maybe an alien, i'm not sure, why dont u bend over and find out.
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
|AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (21)
A Non Special Day (Short Stories) Just a saturday morning. [515 words]
Bardo Blurb (Essays) Drinking a beer in a bar, some thoughts! [311 words]
Cmon You Can Tell Me (Short Stories) Let's compare notes on our moms and dads... [523 words]
Death To Fascism (Poetry) The title and the poems have no connection ;) [128 words]
Dirty Apartment (Short Stories) Description of my dirty apartment and its cause, me. [756 words] [Humor]
Friday Evening (Short Stories) Is the hero a scumbag? An ordinary friday night turns into a sexual orgy. [1,947 words]
I Get Arrested (Short Stories) The title says it all. [812 words]
I Love Phoebe Gloeckner (Short Stories) Imagine emailing your favorite artist/celeb. and getting a reply back... Phoebe Gloeckner is da BOMB. she does serious comix, phenomenal art and storytelling.... along with Crumb and Bukowski the bes... [873 words]
Jingle Bell (Short Stories) Even simple liquieds have adverse effects on this universe. [537 words]
Lunch (Poetry) Lunch break. [45 words] [Drama]
Paloma Pena (Short Stories) Sigh! so many girls, so little time. [385 words] [Action]
Poems (Poetry) Miscellaneous poetry. [134 words]
Roch (Short Stories) Cybersex. [289 words] [Biography]
Sad Poem (Short Stories) i cut my soul and let it bleed on the paper. [295 words]
Tainted But Trying (Short Stories) On level five and slipping lower into Dante's Inferno... [811 words]
The Horror Of Existence (Short Stories) Musings on a shitty moment in time. [573 words]
The Sound Of Laces (Short Stories) a womans erotic night is sparked by her high heeled leather boots. [830 words]
Think (Short Stories) Philosophically I hit it on the nail... but the last paragraph still displeases me. [1,427 words]
Tiny Pink Pills (Short Stories) Ain't life a bytch!!! [757 words]
Whacker Than Whack (Short Stories) This kinda amuses me... but, I don't know if it's the stupidity or genius of it. [778 words]
What Can I Say? (Short Stories) Hmmm... did I make this up or lift this shit? you decide. [676 words]
Coffee At Starbucks
Far below the populis of the metropolis, Superman wakes up. He decides to go up to the surface of the world for some coffee. Arriving at Starbucks, he sees Nullman sitting outside pursuing a cup of java. Since the uglinees of their last encounter at the bar, Nullman and Sup had avoided each other. But, feeling in a good mood, Superman joins Nullman.
S: so how's life?
N: sucking as usual.
S: whats the source of your problems?
Superman smiles smugly. Being a man of steel and all around superstar, he has no problems in that arena.
N: i think, i might have a job soon.
S: congratulations, you must be enthusiatic.
N: oh! i was enthusiastic, but i think i might have ruined my best prospect in months.
S: what did you do?
N: i called up the VP to express my enthusiasm for this perfect job and i might have been too enthusiastic. it was like the long phone message in Swingers, babbling incoherent boot kissing.
Superman, looking at his platinum rolex watch: so youre gonna be broke for some more months.
N: it gets worse. i think i'm in love with my technical recruiter.
S arches an eyebrow.
N: the thing is, i keep on seeing her when i go to their offices for interviews and now she's imprinted on my memory. plus with this latest job interview, which she's handling personally, we've been talking on the phone every day, 2 or 3 times a day. she even left me her home phone number so ic could call her after hours.
S: i assume she's a cutie...
N, dreamily: ...with a most wicked wit. Dracula's bride with a chain and lock around her neck. often she calls me in the afternoon, when i'm lying on my bed in my underwear, all stoked and crazy.
N: naturally, not being used to all this attention from a beautiful woman, calling me, giving me encouraging messages like "don't lose hope", "your'e an intelligent smart guy", etc. that i can't stop thinking about her. and not sexually either. it's just her. if it was a butt or breast thing, i could get her out of my system with masturbation. but, when i think of her i fantasize her talking to me. her brown, contact lens cloaked eyes looking at me while beautiful, nice words issue from her subtly smiling lips. Arrgh!
S, scratching his head thoughtfully: an infatuation and no fantasies of wicked, hot, steamy sex with the vixen. heh, heh, another one bites the dust.
N: it gets worse.
N: there's another technical recruiter at the same firm and i'm in love with her too.
S: let me guess. she calls you a lot too.
N, slumping: uh, huh. and she's young, has a hot body and is so out and out flirtatious that it should be a crime.
S, bitterly: i know. those gushing smiles, pats on the arm, little hugs of encouragement. Lois was like that too.
N, scowling: can we get back to me.
N: so there i am. a young youth, trying to enjoy a little doobie in the middle of the afternoon. asking nothing of the universe, but to be left alone in peace.
Sup grins sceptically. he knows Nullman's peace and quiet ways well.
N: the phone rings and it's Lan. i'm all excited and pumped after talking to her. i slump back into my bed. ahh! if only she would go out drinking with me, she would see what a cool guy i am.
N: then McKay calls. i'm ecstatic. i say yes to everything. slump back into my bed. ahh, McKay! i'd take care of her for ever, never betray her, let her down. just want to be around her all the time.
S: much like a stalker.
N: yes,...er, shutup!
N: then Lan calls again. "the interview's set up, dress up sharply, your'e our hot candidate of the month."
N, looking deranged: Lan, McKay, McKay, Lan. i can't take it any longer. i couldn't care less about the fucking interviews anymore. i just look forward to their calls and to meeting them. hell, i'm even fucking up my interviews just to be around them. and the worst part is i'm not even thinking about all the other girls i know who i could be fucking as we talk.
S: right! that girl you met, what 2 weeks ago, who gave you her phone number in a moment of senility.
Nullman ignores Superman's provocations. They sit in silence. Superman starts thinking about the model he shagged, actually demolished, this morning. What was her name, Elle something. He'd have to get a new coffee table again, the fifth one this month. He opened his mouth to help Nullman with his problems by telling him about Elle's enthusiastic performance this morning, but then a thought strikes him. Evil grin.
S: what if you could meet both girls at once.
N: both at the same time. what would be the point.
Their eyes meet. Wicked smiles presage wickeder thoughts.
N, gesturing with his hands: a combination. on one hand, slender, dark haired, bouncy Lan meets the brunette, big boned yet curvacious, sarcastic McKay. naked flesh on naked flesh, o mother of god, all glory on her, it would be...
S: ...out of this world. like eating your cake and er,...
N has a glazed look on his eyes. Then his mobile phone rings.
N: hey McKay. yes the interview went well.
Sup is moving his left index finger in and out of the circle which his right hand has made.
N: yes, Lan is helping me with the iprimus account. no, i'm glad your'e both working on my account. i know you'll both do your best to get me off, er, cough! get me something.
With an effort Nullman closes the connection.
Sup stands up, stretches and yawns. It's a great day he thinks. He'd like to hook up with that Indian actress he met last week. What was her name, Taboo something.
He looks down at Nullman, who's muttering: McKay on Lan, Lan on McKay and me in between. Arrgh! i'm doubly fucked now. Superman you faggot, you dicksucker, i can't get the picture of the three of us, naked on my rug, out of my head.
He leaps up to punch Superman, but all he hears is a woosh! and the sqwaking of startled birds.
Nullman calls the technical recruiters firm the next day.
N: hi, can i talk to McKay.
Recep: she's not in.
N: ummm, what about Lan?
R: she's not in either. they both called in sick.
N, disappointed: what! er, ok bye.
N scratches his unshaved chin. What a coincidence. Just a day after telling Superman about the hotties in his life, both have called in sick. What a coincidence...
With a sinking feeling Nullman calls McKay's private number.
N: hi, can i...
S: how's it going buddy.
A sound much like a well lubricated oil shaft going in and out of a sticky, oily hole, comes over the phone.
McKay: don't stop now, ah ah ahhh
Lan: spank her ass daddy. wipe that smile of the bitch's face, ooooh!!
N: Superman, you wouldn't, you didn't...
S, panting: i ah would ah like to talk aaaahhh...
Nullman slams down the phone. Why that rotten, motherfucker. dipping his stinking stick into McKay's private preserve, sucking on Lan's mango sweet tits, making them moan in unison....Arrrghhh!
|READER'S REVIEWS (2)
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"wow man!!! what a provocative funny story...u've got me all horny now...you must be the best writer ever." -- sunny, dc, usa.
"besides being probably the worst and raunchiest writer I've come across, you actually think the drivel that you jot down is good, now you are a better comedian than you were ever a writer...you ought to be a stand up. Although you probably wouldn't get along with that crowd either" -- Molly.
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