Prompts of Life! - 1. Prompt 244 & 245: Are You Gay? Or Just Afraid Of The Dark

ARE YOU GAY? OR JUST AFRAID OF THE DARK?

"Oscar Night"

WELCOME to another session of Are You Gay? Or Just Afraid Of The Dark? I am your host for tonight, Liberace of the Dead, bringing you wonderful stories which brings you closer to death, and an untimely heart attack, with a dash of panache.

We come tonight to hear the gruesome story of Harry and Bill. Two gay partners in a blissful relationship, staring lovingly at each others eyes, saying I love you's every minute of their waking moment. OKAY OKAY! I guess that's not entirely horrifying. We have our left wingers puking their eyes out for that one - that, I assure you.

But moving forward, our story acquaints us to the lovely house of Harry & Bill, as they prepare for their annual party. I don't know why they didn't invite me but I guess, that's for another time. I could have played the piano for free if they ask me nicely. I mean, what does a dead fabulous professional pianist entertaining superstar got to do these days on his spare time, huh?

So sit back, grab a popcorn and add a dash of cyanide, and remember . . . You don't need to go to a morgue to find the dead. The dead could always be you? MWA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!

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‘. . . and there’s lots more! Bring on your friends, your family, and your neighbor. If you want to have your children’s party, you can check out our Safari room. We offer you genuine music and entertainment, hosted by our wonderful kid-friendly, Chucky the Clown. You won’t be expecting some kids crying if he’s around. And we have some good ole’ country band from our amazing trio, The Hecklers. They play, country, indie, alternative, heavy metal, electronica, pop, and even the lovely blues. They’re so versatile, they can play anythin’ you want (Rap songs not included). Well, heck! You can even bring your cowboy boots for some hoedown. And if you want to have some alone time for the missis, we have our Savannah room for you to spend those nights where the kids are sleeping. Go have a date, bring your wife, bring your fiancée. And if you’re really that desperate, you can propose in our Starlight room. If the brood says yes, why not have your engagement party right there and then. And if she says no, you can celebrate your freedom by drinking at the Bull Shack, and enjoy the company of our patrons. So come see us at Al and Chuck’s World Resto-Bar and have a howdy good ole’ time. . .’

Harry grabbed the remote and turned off the T.V. He whispered his disapproval and said, ‘God, I hate that commercial. So, anti-christian . . . Letting a clown near the kids. How dreadful.’

He then placed the groceries on the counter alongside the car keys that dangled on his finger. He took a big sigh of relief and clapped his hand in excitement and said, ‘Everything’s going according to plan. Ooh, I hope I got everything in time.’

His eyes searched the room, while his voice spoke in wonderment as he looked for his partner.

‘Bill! Bill, where the heck are you?’ he said, expressing the frustration in his tone.

A flushing sound coming from the toilet soon followed, and a man in his late 30’s (let’s just pretend its John Hamm), wearing a skimpy tight jeans and tucked-in polo shirt came in the room and said, ‘I think we ran out of toilet paper babe.’

Harry’s eyebrows united to rally his dread. He shrieked and said, ‘WHAT! That can’t be right! I got everything in order. I even double-checked the list on my phone this morning. I even dreamt that Meryl Streep would be awarding me an Oscar for being the best house-husband of this quaint little subtle town of Marfa, Texas County. I think I’m losing my touch.’

Bill rushed to give Harry a peck on his cheek, as he hoped to calm the exaggerations of his partner. He rolled himself on Harry’s back, placed his arms around his chest, and kissed his neck as his means of soothing his trepidations.

‘Don’t worry about it baby boy. I’m sure Meryl’s too busy getting prepped for the Oscars tonight. You might hear your name being called out in her winning speech for the Iron Lady. You’re the best man any guy like me can have. Everyone knows your parties are the bomb.’

‘Oh! Don’t just jinx it darling. Just cause it’s obvious that she’ll win tonight doesn’t mean that other nominated actresses won’t win. Like hell they will.’ said Harry, while Bill’s lips crept closer to his cheeks.

Bill’s mouth drew a whisper in Harry’s ear and said, ‘You know what’s better than Oscar night babe? Me, personally giving you my Oscar.’

His hug grew tighter, as he slowly brought his hips closer to Harry’s behind. He made an immediate hip-thrust, and spoke in a manner that resembles the mating rituals of wildebeests and other wildlife creatures in the prairie lands of Texas.

‘Grrr . . . You smell so good babe.’ said Bill, as his lips lingered longer on Harry’s neck. He again thrust his hip, which finally drew Harry’s attention.

‘Darling! I ain’t got time for your boner right now. Stop dry humping my ass, Bill.’ Exclaimed Harry, as he slowly pulled away from Bill’s excitement.

He turned around and tried to calm him, ‘You know how important tonight is darling. Oscar night only comes once every year. It’s not like Meryl will win her 4^th Oscar when I’m alive, probably in two years time she will. But I hate to pop your bubble darling. . . I have awful news.’

Harry’s hand clasped on Bill’s cheeks, as his eyes denoted a firm sadness. There was a tinge of worry on Bill’s face, and sweat dabbled on his brows, as he awaited the somewhat, sad and somber news from Harry’s expression. It was as if he was expecting to hear that his mother had died.

‘Babe, what is it? Tell me? Did mom die?’

To prolong his news, and to add to his usual dramatic effect, Harry gave in a long sigh of discontent and finally told Harry of the news.

‘No darling, that would be for another day. But I have something that would upset you even greater than hearing your mom dying of disentery from eating her kittens . You have to brace yourself, all right darling. Be strong!’

Bill nodded, and Harry released his reddening cheek as he continued.

‘I heard from Patrick last week, when I went to town to have Pumpkin’s monthly injections from the vet. And no, it wasn’t the day that I asked the barbers to have Pumpkin have his hair dyed like Gwen Stefani. I think that was two days ago. Anyhoo, Patrick said, that when they were having dinner . . . Hang on, I think it was when they went to Chilis. Well, to put it lightly . . . Terry thinks that the light fixtures in our entertainment room . . . Are shit. He didn’t say it was SHIT – like shit SHIT! It’s more like, OOOOHHHH, there’s a shit. Not really, SHIT, but somewhat of a shit. You get me darling?’

Harry gave another sigh as a sign of relief and said, ‘Please don’t be mad. Are you okay darling? I shouldn’t have told the news today especially on a day like this.’ and proceeded to empty the bag of groceries.

Bill, on the other hand, slammed his fist on the kitchen counter, and said, ‘Damn it! I really thought I got it right this time. He really did say that?’

Harry nodded and smiled to his partner’s emotional fixation, while he continued placing the items in the pantry.

‘I can’t believe that bastard thinks it’s shit. He better be coming tonight. I don’t think he’s seen our 80-inch plasma, state of the art, 4D T.V., with a 10 speaker, sub-woofer, sub-router, sub-station, hi-fi, lo-fi, mid-fi, semi-fi, surround sound, Dolby Digital 10.10, with Mountain Tiger OSXX2X interface, touchscreen, voice command, holographic inter-tune, Tru-Brite Retina Display, called the Boom Bastic entertainment system, that’s perfectly placed in our entertainment room . . . does he?’ said Bill, while flustered yet sounding certain of his own rambling.

‘Nope darling. I don’t think he has. Why don’t you go be a big boy and go tinker on that will you, while I get busy making the hors d'œuvres.’

‘You know what babe. I think I will. I don’t think Patrick and Terry will be saying SHIT about my baby, once I put the cables for our 500 gig Internet connection. MOTHER FUCKER! Try and say something SHIT to that, bitch!’

‘Language dear. All right. Go have fun.’

Harry opened the box of ready-made pastry dough. He turned around to check on the roast chicken that has been roasting in the oven while he was at the market shopping for the items in his list. He pursed his lip to think of any item he might have missed.

A small container grabbed his interest inside the paper bag from his groceries. He opened it, took a whiff, and asked Bill.

‘Darling, do you prefer French onion, guacamole, chicken kiev, gurram masala, honey sweet mustard, Asian sweet dressing, salsa, or tomato sauce on your chicken?’

Bill replied, ‘Tomato sauce please.’ as his voice echoed in the room.

‘All right.’ said Harry.

He took the last item from the paper bags and read the label: Magnolia Tree’s: Soft Soothing Cocoa Butter Lotion. He scratched his head and said, ‘Bill, come here for a second. I don’t remember putting this in my grocery list.’

Bill was carrying a heavy box-set full of cables and his thingamajigs, and placed it on the counter edge. He went to Harry’s side and took the bottle from him, and reviewed the label.

‘Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you about that . . .Ryan’s bringing a date tonight. He tells me that he snagged a zombie from this gay zombie-dating site. He tells me they’ve been going out for quite some time now.’

‘Good for him! But what’s this lotion got to do with Ryan bringing in a zombie as his plus one?’ wondered Harry.

‘You know how zombies are. They tend to dry your skin once you shake hands with em’. I don’t want my baby to have dry calloused skin.’ replied Bill, as he snagged a quick and intimate kiss from Harry’s lips.

‘That’s so sweet of you Darling. But you should have told me or texted me while I was at the market. I could have brought Ryan’s date from the butcher, some fresh steaks. I don’t think zombie’s eat roast chicken, or finger foods.’

‘Sorry babe. But there’s something you should know, and I reckon you’ll be proud of me. I brought Pumpkin to Carl’s house this morning. I thought he was out but his wife was there. Well, we don’t want our Pumpkin missing do we, or find pieces of his leg in the backyard like the last time. I’ve grown fond of that mutt. And I’m not in the mood to get another dog from the dog shelter, just because one our guest’s date happens to find our dog appetizing. And I’m not gonna cry for our 5^th memorial service for our dog. I’m not gonna let that happen to myself.’

‘I’m proud of you babe. That’s good thinking.’ said Harry, as he wrapped his arms around Bill’s shoulder.

A buzzing sound alerted the two from their distraction. Harry rushed to open the oven, and grabbed an oven matt and placed the roast chicken on the counter top. The smell of the chicken swirled around and blessed the room of its aroma.

‘That smells heavenly.’ said Bill, as he inhaled the scent coming from the cooked poultry. They both looked at each other for a minute and understood their dilemma.

‘Is the dog shelter still open at this hour?’ asked Harry.

‘Yep. They close in 30 minutes. We gotta run babe.’ replied Bill, as he rushed to get the car keys.

‘Do you think Ryan’s date prefers a Shit-tzu or a Labrador? What if he’s on a diet? We could get a Chihuahua for him.’

‘Nah. Ryan tells me his date was a former varsity player for the Crimson Harvard.’

‘Oh my god! A varsity player and probably a lawyer? Shit, we better run dear.’ cried Harry.

‘Yeah, I think we should.’ replied Bill.