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“You Bette Your 20”
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“Tina, is this our bedroom?”
“No, Bette, this is Bev and Nina’s bedroom.”
“But it looks just like our bedroom, filtered through Jenny’s masturbatory oratory.”
“Yes, it does.” Tina bounced up and down on the bed. “Wanna make out?”
“Do you have candy?”
“No. Wanna make out?”
“Do you have pot?”
“No. Wanna make out?”
“Yes, I believe that I do.” Bette lies down on the bed. “Let’s make out.”
Just then, a walkie-talkie squawked, ‘What’s Tina’s 20 – hey we’re using codewords, isn’t that cool?’
Tina jumped off of the bed, hit the ceiling, and did a three-point landing into a 70’s-style chair. Bette stayed on the bed and looked sad, yet smiled.
The walkie-talkie turned out to be attached to a large man who bumbled into the room. “Tina, since the director’s being unprofessional and having sex while on the set, we need you to take care of the fires.”
“One second, big guy.” Tina looked at Bette who still looked sad. “I need to put out a fire here, first.”
Now, don’t ya know, the big guy wanted to stay and watch. And who could blame him. But he didn’t have a position like producer or director so that he could hang out and make out on the set. So, when Tina shoo’d him off, he shoo’d.
“Bette, I know you want me.”
“I do want you, Tina.”
“And I know you’re with Jodi.”
“I am with Jodi.”
“Well, I have to put out a fire, but I do want you.”
“So you’re going to come back?” Bette now looked sad, yet hopeful.
“No, I’m working, Bette. But this is a movie studio. I’ll get a Stunt Tina.”
“A Stunt Tina?”
Tina picked up the walkie-talkie that she conveniently did not have earlier. “Can someone send Gretchen up to the Bedroom set?”
“Okay.”
Moments later, Gretchen came running through the door. “I didn’t know I had a scene now.”
“You don’t. You need to have sex with Bette.”
“Excuse me?” Bette asked.
“Uh, okay,” Gretchen agreed. “After all, this will help me with my ‘whys’, right?”
“Right,” Tina said. “Now, straddle her.”
Gretchen climbed atop Bette.
“Tina, I don’t know about this.”
“Call me Nina,” Gretchen whispered.
“Look, you seem very nice, Gr/ina. But I’m not sure.”
“Shut up and fuck me,” Gretchen/Nina ordered.
Tina knew that things were well in hand here. She headed off to put off the fire, whatever that fire might be.
Then she’d call Tasha. After all, if Bette was with Jodi and fooling around with Gr/ina, why shouldn’t Tina let herself have a little fun.
And so, dear readers and everyone else, now you know how Bette starts to cheat on Jodi with Tina without Tina being involved. After all, is this any more odd than the throwdown scene? Of course, if the throwdown had occurred on the couch of despair, Soap would understand.
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Now you’re talking, soaperdropper!! Who knew while I was waiting for something good to happen that it would be Bette and Jodi having their throwdown on my couch. The benevolent couch ninja would then throw Jodi to the floor, and Bette and I would be having a lovely throwdown of our own, and there would be no self-service! I feel a poem coming on…
Bette and you? I am sad, DTSsLSu, that you would toss me over for a fictional character, and from my own fictional couch. Were I not engaged I would be totally sad instead of 37% sad.
Only 37% sad?? Now dear soap, do not forget it was to you that I wrote the finest poetry, but you alas have pledged yourself to lament. Bette is only a way to bind my wounds, you understand! But I have not given up hope for you….tis true…
what does the L stand for??
DropTheSoap’sLoverSu…it’s a totally unique name that I made up all by myself and not inspired by anyone at all fictional or otherwise. 41% sad? Is that a better shade of sad?
Thought of that all by yourself eh? I must point out that due to the fact that there is a character on the show with an alarmingly similar name inscribed on her collar and leash, who doesn’t have the brains that God gave a rock, I am certainly hoping that no comparison is intended!!!! 41% is better but I am shooting for 57%.
HEY DON’T MIND ME JUST MAKING MY WAY THROUGH HERE.
Lamento, if you’re going to be late to the party, things happen. I put pot brownies in story. It’s not my fault.
I see. *eats the rest of the brownies* I told you I have this sharing problem, as in, I don’t do it.
How about pot cookies with macadamia nuts and white chocolate?? Yum
I’ll just take the pot then.
Not all of it I hope.
All of it because white chocolate is fucking nasty.
but maybe you’ll like it after having some pot!! Hey, where’d soap go? she go down the drain?
I don’t think Soap went down the drain. Went down elsewhere maybe though. *whistle* Oi, I jet for now.
Soap’s busy running the universe. You know. Little stuff.
does NO ONE join me in my love for white chocolate? Wouldst I be completely alone in that? Bummer! Puppies and couches and fires oh my… and stroking and gazing and ruminating…jp you ARE a multitasker aren’t you! The Brownies of Enlightenment don’t seem to last long around here, so I will stick to my white chocolate/macadamia nut cookie of spiritual clarity. All answers will be clear in time…or, like the magic 8 ball says, ask me again later.
I call everyone dude…male or female..and speaking of male, you aren’t, are you? Nah, cos if you were you could be called soap on a rope. Come to the couch, dear soap!
well I missed you. I am glad you didn’t go down the drain.DTSsLSu
I’ll leave you two to your “thang” while I go to sleep *cough*because Soapy will do whatever Soapy wants anyway*cough* P.S. I’d laugh if Soapy was actually a dude. xD *zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz*
Lamento called me a dude, and Soap thinks she meant that in a male way. Soap is now 56.3% sad. I must join DTSsLSu on the couch of despair.
56.3 percentage points of sadness, white chocolate and BeGrina sex. I don’t which makes me despair more. I should sit on an appropriate couch and ruminate, until the answer comes to me. Such ruminations would go better, perhaps, if I had a puppy to stroke, and a fire (be it one Tina’s putting out or starting) to gaze at, whilst on a couch of appropriateness. Yes. It likely would go even better, if I could partake of a brownie of Enlightenment whilst doing all of this petting and gazing and ruminating. But lacking puppies or couches or fires or brownies, I’ll just seek out the wisdom of a Magic 8 ball. Wish me luck! (thanks for the post, Soap)