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TITLE (EDIT) Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge
DESCRIPTION Patricia Fudge, a chocolate-lover who suffers a breakdown after becoming fixated with a guy named Elliott, whom she stalks. After she finds out that she cannot have his affections, she decides to use his rejection to help her change her life. [1,143 words]
AUTHOR Piper Davenport
ABOUT THE AUTHOR - [June 2009]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (26) A Sunday Story (Novelnovella Excerpt) (Short Stories) A small town loves and lies on a Sunday afternoon. [2,381 words] Ain't You Heard? (Poetry) A self-reflecting poem. [13 words] An Obligation In Kalamazoo (Short Stories) - [1,298 words] Finding A Poem (Poetry) Writing poetry is the one of the most challenging venues of a young writer's career. Mastering the technique requires the power of language, and finding a poem somewhere in your thoughts. [13 words] Grayfield South (Short Stories) Two families converge when tragedy strikes. [7,086 words] [Mystery] How I Ought To Be As A Writer (Plays) - [803 words] Let No Man Tell My Story (Non-Fiction) - [1,274 words] Morning In Detroit (Poetry) The beauty of Detroit on a weekend morning. [354 words] Moving Beyond The Pain (Essays) - [2,014 words] Nighttime Babies (Short Stories) A man encounters two strange individuals on a weird Sunday night. [5,565 words] [Science Fiction] On And Off The Wall (Essays) - [1,538 words] Secrets From A Writer's Notebook (Short Stories) Isn't it wonderful when a writer's work is read and fiction becomes reality? It makes you wonder whose following you, who are your "true fans." Lovely is the new sarcasm. [257 words] Sestina!The Look! (Poetry) A woman walking in an inner-city neighborhood after a rainstorm questions the disconnection she feels from others of different backgrounds. She undergoes an epiphany that challenges her preconceived n... [306 words] Sing The White Note Black (Novel Excerpt) (Short Stories) An aspiring jazz musician comes of age in 1950's Detroit. [11,701 words] Sips Of My Coffee (Short Stories) - [732 words] The Cat And The Mouse (Short Stories) An adventure short story. [1,367 words] [Adventure] The Far Side Of My Room (Poetry) A writer's journey. [228 words] The Far Side Of The Room (Poetry) - [228 words] The Man Called Daddy (Novella Excerpt) (Novels) - [5,589 words] The Motown Chronicles: Sing The White Note Black (Novel Excerpt) (Novels) A jazz musician comes of age in 1950's Detroit. [11,701 words] The Nightmare Of Henry Dudds (Short Stories) This is a novel excerpt from The Motown Chronicles: Sing the White Note Black. I have decided to include this story in the trilogy that I am working on after all. [3,344 words] The Other Side Of Me (Short Stories) This story was inspired by the darker side of my hometown of Detroit, Michigan. [1,456 words] The Sidewalk (Poetry) A woman sees her neighborhood for how it really is. [396 words] The Theory Of Knowledge According To A Woman Named Righteous (Poetry) A woman is hearbroken over her decaying hometown. [224 words] [Romance] The Weight Of His Hands (Poetry) - [13 words] Three Different Ways To Tell A Lie (Short Stories) A father finds out that his son is not what he seems. [1,177 words]
Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge Piper Davenport I love the taste of chocolate. I'm your typical got-to-have-chocolate-when-I'm-in-the mood chick. Chocolate is one of life's bittersweet sorrows, a way for punishing women for wanting to live life after the indulgence, running like empty wet kisses through backbreaking ectasy. And I like to put it on their bodies, their chest wherever the urge tickles my fancy. They find pleasure in pulling hair and fingernails but the stinker of it is in the chocolate-covered stains that brings us simpletons together. My counselor told me the other day that sex was an addiction for me. I didn't want to see the root of my problems: low self-esteem and that until I did, change was not a part of the undertones found in my lady-like vocabulary. I told her that she was jealous. When was the last time she got laid? Rubbing yourself against the spinning cycle of a spinster's washing machine is good, cheap therapy for the sexless persona she hid behind those hideous matronly glasses. I wasn't here to shape for a President's award. I, Patricia Fudge, being of irrational mind and horny body was here to shape up for a guy. I never thought I could ever love someone enough to want to change myself. My household was as dysfunctional as any modern Emmy-winning soap opera. We had it all: cheap shots of pot and beer, mind-altering out-of-body experiences and knife-pulling contests. If that was not enough, my mother, who promised after all of these years to stay sober, got drunk, just so she wouldn't upset on the rain coming down on her as zigzagged down to the mailbox to get the year-old bills that her and my father had no intention of paying anytime soon in the first place. Yet, this guy I met is worthy of meeting my inspiration for a different life. My family. My future children. Two-percent milk. I think of all of these things when I think of him. This guy grew up in a similar household and I know he doesn't want that for his family either. We want out.I met him in the most unusual of places: my building. He reminds me of my father, everything good with echoes of He's different. This one's a keeper. Ruggedly handsome, tall, broad across the shoulder's with a football player's build. A man's man. And I don't need no 1-800-Dial-a-Psychic to tell me that he's the One. The chemistry . . . Looking up into his eyes and getting lost in his eyes, while he gets lost in mine is no mere coincidence. Where was this guy when I was seventeen and actually looking for true love? Elliott. Sometimes, I don't know what to do with him. Should I give him a hug or arm-wrestle him? He "beat-up" my friend and an acquaintance of ours because they hid his lunch box. I don't know if that amounts to being childish or just being really likeable. I'll figure out our song, that love-dovey mess, one day. I'll get up the nerve, a piss-pant crybaby voted "Shyest Person" senior year of high school to tell him how I feel. And we'll run away together, like Luke and Laura, and makeup and breakup, and makeup and breakup until I'm sent to tv soap-opera hell to say cheesy lines like, "Elliott, where for art thou?" So, I write him a letter instead. It says, "Dear Elliott . . ." and I give it him. For once, life is going expectedly. Then, my word shatters: He tells me, I'm sorry, I didn't want to hurt you but I just don't see you in that way. I just want to be friends, okay? But it's not fair. I played by all of the rules: I watched my soap operas every day. I dialed my 1-800-Dial-a-Psychic. I drank my milk. My counselor says, Grow from love. Write a top-ten list. Stop eating chocolate. Give up it up. I tell her to Get bent! I imagine all of the REAL reasons that Elliott didn't want me: Fudge is not his type. Fudge is not seen outside after eight o'clock. Fudge is too emotional. Fudge is seen as silly and not sexy. Fudge is his little sister. Dr. West said something to Elliott: We're on the verge of a breakthrough. We need you to step off. Fudge is too nice. Fudge blushes when there is lipstick on her teeth. Fudge reads into things too much. Fudge needs to help herself before she can be with someone else.I suppose that's why I decided to go see a counselor. Dr. West is a lot like me, similar childhoods, similar outlooks on life. So far, I have not made any progress. In fact, things look like they're getting worse. A couple weeks ago, I went out on a date with a guy and slept with him two days later. Now, she wants to put me under hypnosis. She thinks the problem is rooted in my childhood but I don't want to talk about it - -I hate remembering . . . I hate remembering being teased and called "Pudgy Fudgy." I hate it all. She wants to go deeper. She wants to go into the stuff that any person in therapy hates going into: Why are you here? A year later I still go to see Dr. West and I'm taking medications. A delicious combo of that with a support group and relaxation techniquest have helped me for ten months now. My demons have not gone away but I control them instead of them controlling me. I've built me up to the point where my responsibilities push me closer to the day where I can accept the fact that I'm an adult. I haven't seen Elliott in a long time. I hear he lives on the other side of the country. I know he always wanted to see the ocean . . . I met another guy. His name is . . . What does it matter? We've been going out for awhile and haven't slept together. Now, I didn't say that we didn't fool around, we just haven't had the opportunity for me to introduce him to my love for chocolate. That's another thing: Chocolate. I still eat one piece of chocolate every week, which helps soothe and relax me. I ran into an old friend of mine the other day, that introduced me to Dr. West. We sat down at this coffeehouse for drinks. She asked me what happened that made me decide to change my ways. I originally was going to do it for this guy named Elliott but I felt kind of pathetic when he said that he just wanted to be friends. Then, I decided to do it for myself. I can't be a guy if I'm not content with myself. After all, you know what they say, every good boy deserves fudge.
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COPYRIGHT NOTICE © 2000 Piper Davenport
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE December 2009	NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED 1700