The Electric Pretzel

Half asleep, Wesley Kyleson rolled over and slung his arm around Kim. He pulled her closer, spooned her and, tucking her red hair back, he gave her a kiss in that spot behind her ear that she liked. He felt her put her arm on top of him and squeeze. He squeezed back and kissed her again.

Wesley had been dating this girl Kim for a few months now. Actually, there was a rather cute and endearing story behind her name. Apparently, one day while her mother, Mrs. Clark, was still pregnant with her, she had gone to the store to pick up a few odds and ends. Weighing on her mind was the fact that she still had not decided on a name for her soon to be daughter. On this fateful day, she was pondering this while walking down the paper products aisle when, suddenly, she noticed a small label on a jumbo pack of toilet paper: "Kimberly Clark". "Kimberly!" she thought to herself, "What a pretty name!"

Kim hated it when Wesley told that story. He, therefore, told it as often as he could. He always told her it was because she was so cute when she was aggravated at him. In reality, he liked the story because Kim was the first girl he had actually cared enough about to bother learning the cute and endearing stories.

He kissed her again. "Morning, you." he said, trying to sound awake.

"Morning," she murmured back. "What time is it?" she asked with a sudden and clear note of worry in her voice.

"Umm," he grumbled. "It's nine something... I can't see the clock. Just a sec." He sat up a little bit and looked at the red LCD on the clock. "Nine thirty seven" he said and flopped back down into her warmth.

Kim sat bolt upright in bed. "What?! Goddamnit, Wesley! Did you not set the alarm clock again last night?" She threw off the covers and started to get out of bed. "Get up! We're already seven minutes late for class!"

It was too early for this. Wesley gently tugged at her to lay back down. "Baby, it's Wednesday. We're already thirty seven minutes late for class. And I did set the alarm clock. We must have slept through it."

"Fuck." said Kim, and flopped down on her back, staring at the ceiling. After a moment, she rolled her head over and looked at him with her blue eyes and gave him a lame smile. She rolled over on her side facing him, pulled him close, and kissed him. "Well, we were up late last night." She kissed him again. "Hold on a sec. I'll grab the covers. I'm cold."

"That's because you're naked, Kim. Anyway, I can keep you warmer that that blanket." Wesley said as he pulled her on top of him.

"Oh, really?" Kim said sarcastically as she leaned over and started to kiss him. "But what about your roommate?"

"John? He's gone for class by now. Ann stayed over, but he's her ride, so no worries about that."

"And your other roommates are on the other side of the apartment." She sat up and smiled that smile that Wesley loved to see.

It wasn't too early for this. Morning sex was what Wesley liked most. It just made the rest of the day fantastic. He loved that neither of you cared that the other had bad breath or mussed hair. He loved the energy that accelerated as you both woke up fully. He loved the fact that it was always what John had aptly called "Sport-fuckin'".

And this morning was definitely not any exception. They rolled over, bumped the wall and laughed. At various times arms, legs, and even heads swung off the edge of the tiny twin bed. They wrestled for control, they laughed, they played. They rolled the other way and, *fwump* hit the floor.

"Ouch!" said Kim. Smiling and kissing her, Wesley grabbed the blanked and made an impromptu bed on the floor. She started to laugh and laid on it. He about tackled her, grabbing her ankles and throwing them on his shoulders.

"Ooo, interesting!" said Kim playfully.

He didn't waste one moment before continuing. He didn't want to ever waste a moment with her.

Suddenly, the door swung open. They swung their heads towards the door and then froze in fear, like two mating deer in headlights. They saw Ann walking in, distractedly looking through her purse. She managed to get through "Kim, we missed our fir..." before looking up. Her face froze in shock. "Eep!" she squealed, and ran out, slamming the door behind her.

Wesley looked levelly back at Kim. "You know, I just assumed you had locked the door..." he said with a smirk. They both started laughing uncontrollably.

"Well, I'm glad you think it's funny!" yelled a very embarrassed Ann through the door.

"Git cha some!" they heard John add, followed by the sound of Ann giving him a good smack on the arm.

The Green Bug

Lucas Evans felt the cool touch of the glass on his back as he leaned unsteadily against the car. He could feel it through his shirt, which by this point was wet with sweat from the sweltering August heat. He could feel it grip the back of his arm below his sleeves, which was a good thing for it was the about only thing keeping him standing upright. He could feel the cool metal of the roof on his leaned-back head as it lolled aimlessly back and forth.

His head came up for a second and he hiccuped. In the brief moment he could see anything other than the sky, he saw Scott, his roommate, standing in the empty parking space in front of him and slightly to his left, and a clump of people standing of the front porch of the apartment, vaguely watching his antics in the parking lot. His head came back down with a thump that the people watching found rather satisfying.

"I nee a schigaterette. Shott! Gib me a fuching schigarette!" he barely managed to get out before hiccuping again.

"Dude, you are totally fucked. Here." said Scott. "You gonna fucking yak?"

Lucas rolled his head to face Scott and gave him a scowl. "Puche? I don't fuching puche off'v tehkillyah." He looked back at the sky and tried to make the world stop spinning. Anything to make the world just sit still for ten seconds. He poked himself in the eye with the but of the cigarette. Ouch.

"Just don't do it on me. Aim at that car or some shit."

"Wha carr?" This time the cigarette went up his left nostril. He determined that cigarettes smell like shit.

"That green bug behind me. I don't like the bitch who owns it anyway. I'll give you a dollar if you puke on it."

"I'm nah gonna yach." He finally managed to get the cigarette into his mouth by giving himself a strep culture with it.

"I can't believe you finished the entire fucking fifth. That was expensive fucking Tequila!"

"Ligf *hiccup*, ligh *hiccup*, G'me!" Lucas snatched the lighter Scott had been patiently holding out of his hand. "And tree shosh of *hiccup* Fodka." He attempted to hold up three fingers with his left hand and light the cigarette with his right, but he but only succeeded at lighting his cigarette with his left hand and holding up four fingers with his right. "Wherd d'liteher go? Tere!"

Scott stopped him as he tried to lean down and pick it up. "Woah, dude. I got it." He held the lighter up and lit it.

"I cahn lighf my own schiggarette." insisted Lucas and grabbed the lighter, which he found impressive because it seemed to be moving at great speed. "Ow! Mufer fucher! Hot! Wherd idgo now?"

Scott picked it up again. "I'll light it! Just stay fucking still."

"I ham!"

"Well, stay still-er, drunkass!"

Lucas leaned forward to light his cigarette and missed, instead singeing his beard. He did manage to get the middle of the cigarette lit on the way back. Lucas didn't care enough to notice and took a long drag off the cigarette. The world spun faster.

"Are you sure you're not going to yak?" asked Scott.

Lucas lolled his head over to look at Scott and the spinning increased. He clumsily nodded his head. "Yeah." The world started spinning in two directions at once. Faster.

Scott saw the look on Lucas's face change from incredulous to the all to familiar look of someone fighting back nausea.

Lucas stopped nodding his head and started wagging it. Now the world was spinning in all directions at once and turning itself inside out. "... Nah ..."

The last thing Lucas remembered was looking up from the cool asphalt of the parking lot, seeing a Green VW Beetle who's driver's side door was coated in vomit, and thinking that someone owed him a dollar.