First let me say that I am deeply offended that you do not recall. Begrudgingly, I will refresh your porous memory....
It was Chicago..... November 21st, 2012....A cold and damp night....The air was heavy with mist and fog. The streetlights each had a halo as you looked up at them. Thousands had spontaneously gathered to protest. People held home made signs up with various slogans. Occasionally a random group chant would begin. Usually a voice out of sequence voices at first...then more people would join in until a raucous chant resonated the streets. In time the chant would wind down, only to have this process repeated over and over again.....
Amidst a sea of faces I casually looked around at the crowd.... And then it happened. Amidst this sea of humanity I saw a sign.... It read
[quote][i]So, Twinkies, which were supposed to survive a nuclear holocaust, die.....3 weeks before the end of the world.....Well Played Mayans....Well Played.....[/i][/quote]
Your dark eyes..... That purple hair..... The skateboard so perfectly shoved into your backpack.... holding your Twinkie sign while protesting the "Great Twinkie Demise of 2012" at Hostess Headquarters..... You had me at Twinkies....
We talked briefly, often you would look down shyly when you saw my sign.... That read... [b][i]Admit it... You know you have tongued a Twinkie at least once...[/i][/b]
We left and walked hand in hand through the brownstones, discussing life, the universe, and cream filling types.
We ended up at my apartment and i took your coat. You didn't know this then, but I could tell you were still cold. My pulse quickened and my heart stirred.... You seemed nervous when I invited you into the basement.... Reluctantly you complied however... Your nervousness soon waned however when you saw the 300 cases of Twinkies, sealed in air tight containers that I had stockpiled for years. It was then that you saw me in a new light... As a masculine Survivalist Doomsday prepper of all thinks delicious.
With erotic and sensual care, never breaking eye contact with you, I tore open the wrapper with my teeth. This made you blush. The first few I fed you by hand. On and on we gorged, until at last you became weak from "the sugars."
As you blacked out I caught you and carried you to my bed. I tucked you in and slept on the couch. When I awoke to the new morning, sun flooding into the room, I thought of you. I rose and went into the bedroom to check on you. The bed had been made, and atop the pillow was a note....
[b][i]Dearest Odd, but well prepared Snack Enthusiast,
Thanks for a wonderful evening. I've never done anything like this before. Don't try to find me. Don't call or try to contact me. I must find myself [/i][/b]
I often think about you Twinkie Girl. Sometimes I'm walking through the supermarket and find that I have turned into the snack isle. There, among the ding dongs and Fig Newtons, my gaze falls upon the yellow and blue of a Twinkie box. Once again my mind is flooded of that night so long ago. I briefly smile, and then move on and by hamburger buns...
Well after we infiltrated zombie encampment and fended off their hoards the leader of their elite red squad attacked us. It was a long and drawn out battle, after all our opponent was a zombie, but we managed to defeat them. From there we were able to steal the cure and make it back, and you pretty much just passed out from exhaustion I'd gather. So I just lent you my bed...and that's how you ended up there.
You called me up out of nowhere, and demanded I come pick you up. I brought you back here, and you hit me in the head with a frying pan. I wake up, look upstairs, and there you are, in MY bed. Thief.
