Chapter 5

Posted: September 27, 2009 - 05:36:03 pm

“We got five stars,” Molly said. Her words were followed by a long low moan.

“Hmmp,” Mark replied.

The dessert assignment had gone very well from his perspective although he hadn’t quite expected the evening to end up like this. Getting five stars for a cooking challenge in this program was almost impossible, but they had done it.

Molly tilted the bottle of brandy and took another long drink. She wobbled from side to side in her chair, while continuing to moan. It was very hard to sit still. There were two reasons for this. First, the room kept spinning around. Second, there was all of the activity between her legs.

She touched her nose and said, “My nose is numb.”

“Hmmph,” Mark said.

“At least the rest of me isn’t.” A shiver ran through her body. Looking down, Molly said, “You do that really well.”

“Hmm,” Mark said.

“Ohh! That must have been number six,” Molly said trying to catch her breath.

Her body’s reaction overtook what little control she had left. The bottle of brandy rolled across the floor spilling the golden contents in a wet line from where she sat.

“Umph,” Mark said.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Molly asked while her eyes rolled back in her head. When he didn’t answer, she looked down between her legs and said, “I guess it is kind of hard to talk with your mouth full.”

Ellen walked into the kitchen and took one look at what was happening. Covering her mouth with one hand, she exclaimed, “What are you doing?”

“I’m celebrating our dessert masterpieces,” Molly answered. The last few words came out of her mouth slurred and sounded a lot more like ‘dethert mather plaseth.’

“You’re naked,” Ellen said.

Molly pointed behind her and said, “Of course I am. I’m riding that monster next.”

“You’re slurring your words,” Ellen said, staring at what was being pointed at by the very inebriated woman. It was a monster and was pointing back at the equally nude woman.

“I’ve got a tongue up my twat,” Molly said and then giggled. She swayed and said, “That’s a nice word. Twat. It just kind of rolls off the tongue ... Speaking of which...”

Mark reached up to touch the breasts above him. She swatted his hands and said, “I told you that you could look, but not touch.”

Ellen stared at Molly wondering what had happened to the woman she had known. She asked, “What are you doing?”

“I discovered I was a Rupub ... Repub ... licken,” Molly answered. She fell over to her side and went out like a light.

“Oh my God,” Ellen said.

Finally having a chance to sit up, Mark looked over at Ellen and said, “I think I could use some help getting her to her room.”

“Uh, yeah,” Ellen said staring at Molly.

Molly let loose with a long low moan which was immediately followed by a grimace. She stared at the cup of coffee and asked, “What was I thinking?”

“As far as I can tell, you weren’t thinking at all,” Ellen answered.

She had spent half of the night in the bathroom watching Molly make offerings to the porcelain goddess. Between offerings, Molly had spent half the time praising Mark and half the time cursing him.

Ellen’s voice cut through Molly’s head like a knife through butter. She clasped her hands over her ears and said, “Don’t talk so loud.”

“Sorry,” Ellen said lowering her voice a little.

“Ouch,” Molly said.

Ellen slid the bottle of pills across the table and said, “I couldn’t find any aspirin. I hope Midol is okay.”

Molly fiddled with the bottle for a second and then said, “I can’t get it open.”

Shaking her head, Ellen said, “Let me open it for you.”

“I’m never cooking with Brandy again,” Molly said with a low moan.

“Guess what the theme ingredient is for today,” Ellen said.

She removed the cap on the bottle of pills and dumped two pills into the palm of her hand. After a quick glance at Molly, she dumped two more out.

Molly grabbed the four pills and chased them down with a swallow of lukewarm coffee. She said, “I hope that it isn’t Brandy.”

“Earthworms.”

“What?” Molly asked in a screech.

She nearly crawled under the table in response to the pain inflicted by her own voice. The idea of cooking worms nearly sent her to the bathroom.

“I’m just kidding. The theme ingredient is fish,” Ellen said.

Holding her head between her hands, Molly said, “I’m going to die.”

“What do you remember of last night?” Ellen asked.

Molly said, “Enough.”

“So are you a Republican?” Ellen asked.

“I didn’t really say that aloud, did I?” Molly asked.

She had a dim memory of forcing Mark to the ground while announcing to him that she was going to try being a Republican for a change.

“Right before you passed out,” Ellen answered.

Molly stared at her cup of coffee for a minute. Red faced, she asked, “What was I doing?”

“You don’t remember?” Ellen asked. She would have been very surprised if Molly remembered that exchange.

“I’m not sure,” Molly said when memories of the previous evening started returning. She couldn’t believe that she had been so aggressive.

“You were riding his face like he was a washing machine,” Ellen said.

“A washing machine?” Molly asked.

“You’ve never done that?” Ellen asked surprised by Molly’s blank look.

“Done what?”

“Ride a washing machine during the spin cycle,” Ellen answered. Molly’s expression didn’t change in light of the explanation. “I guess not.”

“You do that?” Molly asked.

Ellen shrugged her shoulders and replied, “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

“Don’t knock what until you’ve tried it?” Victoria asked while entering the room. She noticed Molly grimace and recognized the signs of a hangover.

“A washing machine,” Ellen answered.

“My roommate used to wax poetic about the pleasures of washing clothes. She couldn’t wait for the spin cycle to start,” Victoria said. She poured a cup of coffee and looked at the cups in front of the two women. Noticing that they were empty, she held up the pot and asked, “Want a refill?”

“Please,” Molly answered. She stared into her cup wondering when it had become empty.

“You look like hell,” Victoria said while pouring coffee.

“She had too much Brandy in the kitchen with Mark,” Ellen said.

Victoria grimaced and asked, “How many times did you come?”

“Who said I had sex with him?” Molly asked defensively.

“You were drunk and in the kitchen with an O’Toole. Need I say more?”

“No,” Molly said.

“She was riding his face like it was a washing machine right before she passed out,” Ellen volunteered.

“Would you quit talking about that?” Molly asked.

“Ah,” Victoria said. “Being in the kitchen with an O’Toole is hard on one’s virtue.”

“Yes,” Molly said, discovering that even blushing while suffering from a hangover was painful.