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Wilma & Betty. Episode II
The Further Adventures of Wilma & Betty
Episode II: A Beautiful Afternoon
Wilma had been unsettled for weeks.
“What’s been eating you?” Betty asked. The two of them sat in Wilma’s kitchen sipping coffee. In the backyard, Dino clawed the base of a wide, gray tree. Above him, in the branches, something moved. Dino yipped. Wilma and Betty watched through the open kitchen window.
“You know what’s eating me,” Wilma grumbled.
“Well,” Betty said with a wry grin, “hopefully it’s Fred.”
Wilma groaned. “Don’t even start me on that,” she said. “It’s been months. He can’t get it up no matter how many Diamond Hards his doctor prescribes. And, to be honest, even if he could get it up, I’d rather read a book.”
“Well, I feel for you,” Betty said. “My Barney’s a dynamo though. He may not look like it, but I’ll tell you, Wilma, the man’s a carnivore in a thousand different ways.”
This was old news to Wilma. This was old news to everyone in the Wilma’s neighborhood. The air around Betty and Barney’s house was always filled with guttural groans and the thick, musty scent of sweat and arousal. On warm summer evenings the neighbors often sat, quietly, on their rooftops listening—never speaking. Sometimes they smiled at one another.
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Wilma & Betty (a short). Episode I
The Further Adventures of Wilma & Betty
Episode I: Start the Revolution
It started one day because Wilma just got fed up with cleaning up Dino’s dino droppings that were always springing up on Fred’s favorite Saber-toothed rug. And when she wasn’t trying to get that smell out of the rug she was cleaning up whatever mess Pebbles and Bam-Bam had managed to make. Jesus Christ, that damned Bam-Bam was always breaking the bamboo dishes or the granite coffee mugs or putting cracks on the marble coffee table that Fred bought with his Christmas bonus.
“Dammit Betty, can’t you keep that kid of yours home sometimes? Let him bam-bam and break up your fine China set hand made and imported from the Yangtze Rock delta.”
“Don’t talk to me, Wilma. My house is already broken up. I can’t do a damned thing about that boy. Barney’s got him spoiled rotten. He thinks Bam-Bam’s gonna be some big time Slateball star and make it to the major leagues the way he never did. Damned men, always trying to cling to some glory they never even had.”
“Tell me about it. It’s the same thing with Fred. ‘I coulda’ been a football star! I coulda been a football star.’ Yeah, and I coulda been married to Brad Pittstone but it just didn’t work out that way. I coulda been a lot of things if I’d been given half a chance and a set of stones between my legs, but you don’t see me clinging to that, do you? Do you hear me whining?”
“So, Wilma, what’s the solution?”
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