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Home Is Where The Other Two-Thirds of You Are
“Alex!!” Dropping everything in her hands suddenly onto a nearby table, Maria made to rush to the other third of her. “Alex, I missed ya sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
“Dash … my dwinksssssss…” The man slurred as he stumbled onto his feet. “Me want …”
Pulling her head back slightly as the man leaned into her to speak, she wrinkled her nose, placed the tips of her fingers on the middle of his chest, and gave him a none so delicate shove back. “Ya want t' start washin'. Didn’t yer mother ever tell ya not t' breathe heavily on people with diarrhea breath?”
“Yuzzz, aints nose … nose … lady.” The large man who had fallen with a rather large crash was currently lolling his slobbering head uncomfortably on the floor. Looking up Maria’s rather short skirt.
Her eyes widened as she let out a gasp of surprised and disgusted, affronted, annoyance before they narrowed into little slits. “I’ll show ya ‘nose lady’ ya piece of cra-Umf!” She screeched behind the hand that had suddenly covered her mouth.
“Maria. Remember the talk Uncle Richard gave you about kicking patrons in their unmentionables?” A calm and level voice asked.
“Mmmf, mm, UMPH!” She exclaimed as she crossed her arms against her chest.
“Maria. He’s still a patron.” Her other third, Liz Parker of the sadly always logical, reminded her. “Even if he is scum.”
“Mmmf, mmf?” She quested in a pleading whine.
“No. Not even a little bit.” Liz laughed.
“Mmf.”
“And I love you too. Now will you promise to behave if I remove my hand?”
Rolling her eyes, Maria stamped her foot to the ground once in petulance before nodding. What was the point of being a barmaid if you had to slave without the kicks? Pun very much intended.
"Glad to see that I'm gone for a year and that some things never change."
Features lighting up once again Maria pulled away from Liz and launched herself at the tall and gangly form of Alex Whitman.
“Dash … my dwinksssssss…” The man slurred as he stumbled onto his feet. “Me want …”
Pulling her head back slightly as the man leaned into her to speak, she wrinkled her nose, placed the tips of her fingers on the middle of his chest, and gave him a none so delicate shove back. “Ya want t' start washin'. Didn’t yer mother ever tell ya not t' breathe heavily on people with diarrhea breath?”
“Yuzzz, aints nose … nose … lady.” The large man who had fallen with a rather large crash was currently lolling his slobbering head uncomfortably on the floor. Looking up Maria’s rather short skirt.
Her eyes widened as she let out a gasp of surprised and disgusted, affronted, annoyance before they narrowed into little slits. “I’ll show ya ‘nose lady’ ya piece of cra-Umf!” She screeched behind the hand that had suddenly covered her mouth.
“Maria. Remember the talk Uncle Richard gave you about kicking patrons in their unmentionables?” A calm and level voice asked.
“Mmmf, mm, UMPH!” She exclaimed as she crossed her arms against her chest.
“Maria. He’s still a patron.” Her other third, Liz Parker of the sadly always logical, reminded her. “Even if he is scum.”
“Mmmf, mmf?” She quested in a pleading whine.
“No. Not even a little bit.” Liz laughed.
“Mmf.”
“And I love you too. Now will you promise to behave if I remove my hand?”
Rolling her eyes, Maria stamped her foot to the ground once in petulance before nodding. What was the point of being a barmaid if you had to slave without the kicks? Pun very much intended.
"Glad to see that I'm gone for a year and that some things never change."
Features lighting up once again Maria pulled away from Liz and launched herself at the tall and gangly form of Alex Whitman.