Posted 9/14/2020 6:49 AM (GMT 0)
Out of the corner of his eye, while checking into the fibro-suite, Poindexter sees Norah creating a scene at the elevator. Steede Toesnapper and Brandi with an 'i' finally escape her wrath but security is lurking behind the potted plants waiting to see if this fibromite needs to be removed from the hotel. Now she is just standing there, staring at her reflection in the stainless steel doors. Her magic marker eye brows are sliding down her face from the rain. Her Snuggies is askew, revealing her white thermal undershirt. She sees a moustache of chocolate over her upper lip. No wonder Steede has replaced her. She is no longer the Lanicane Queen, beautiful, poised and elegant. No one asks for her autograph any more. She is a 'has been', washed up.
Poindexter gimps over to join her. In a very stern voice he says: "Cut the crap, Norah Fairchild. I have just spent a fortune on furniture at Fibro R Us and gotten us the most expensive hotel room in The City. I do not want to hear you utter another word about that sleazy Toesnapper. If you do, I will take you out of here on a forklift and leave you at the curb. As much as I love you, I will not spend my evening listening to you whine. The Toesnapper had moved on and so should you."
She grimaces. " Owie, Owie. You are standing on my delicate foot with your huge, fur lined Herman Munster boot."
"Sorry," he sighs. "I can't feel my feet, or control where they are going."
Norah stares at him with tear soaked eyes. "I just want to take that new hi tech heating pad, soak it in water, plug it into a 220 line and successfully electrocute that man. I really really really do."
Poindexter rolls his eyes and screams...'Bell boy...do you have a forklift?"
Norah looks confused. She has already forgotten his demand and can't even recall what a fork lift is. Does it have something to do with eating?
The Bell Boy pretends he doesn't hear this and keeps on walking. Fork lift in a hotel. Oh, these fibromites.
Poindexter pushes the elevator button and ushers Norah inside. The room is paid for. What the hell.
* * * *
Norah gasps when she sees the room. There is a huge king sized bed pilled high with down quilts and pillows. Bed Buddies, heating pads and pain relieving gels and lotions are scattered about. It is a comfy 90 degrees and a fire roars in a marble fireplace. Facing it are two recliners equipped with massage and steam heat features. A large bowl of Milky Way Bars sit on the bedside table and at the far end of the room, a monster hot tub.
On the door, however, is a sign.
"Welcome Fibromites. We hope your stay is peaceful and painfree. For insurance purposes we ask that you do not eat, drink or smoke in bed. Do not touch the gas knob that regulates the fireplace. No sleeping in the hot tub and do not go out on the balcony after taking your Lyrica. We anticipate that you will lose your key to the door at least a dozen times so outside your room on the wall is a red button that will allow your automatic entry. Have a nice day."(yellow smiley face)
Norah reads this will indifference, heads for the bowl of candy, pops one in her mouth and falls backwards on the bed. Poindexter hitches for the hot tub. The steam is rising and the bubbles perculate. He is going in. He turns around to invite Norah to join him, but alas, she is asleep. A hunk of candy pokes out between her lips and she is snoring like an old dog with a deviated septum.
Once again he sighs and wonders why he loves her so much. He strips off his layers of clothing and slides in. This is heaven. Over the hum of the hot tub motor he doesn't even hear Norah whimpering for Steede in her sleep. Nor does he see the chocolate stain she has drooled on the $400 pillow case. He is drifting off...'No sleeping in the hot tub" crosses his mind but screw that. He is dreaming of their perfect fibro wedding and the headline in all the papers. "Wicker World King Marries Lanicane Queen". The wedding of the century. If only.
Fade to black, organ music and a monster vaccum cleaner that can pick up three bowling balls at once.