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“What the hell possessed her to put that on Craigslist…?” Heather murmured, staring blearily at the computer screen in front of her. “And what could she possibly have to say? We just dicked around last night, nothing went down…I hope…”
Crista had been over, as per usual on a Friday night. Heather’s roommate was off somewhere getting drunk, also as per usual. Probably one of the frat parties or something. Heather had opened the door with two freshly opened beer cans, shoving one at her best friend with a grin. “Here’s to the end of the week!”
“Amen,” Crista responded, taking it after a moment and raising arm, the two cans rubbing against each other before cheap beer could wash down the girls’ throats.
And as usual, one beer lead to another…and another…and another. A couple hours later, they were completely gone, putting socks on their hands and giggling like a pair of kindergarteners that were supposed to be painting but instead had smeared it on the unfortunate boy next to them.
“P-Playin’….with hand puppets! College…an’ we’re playing with hand puppets.”
“Sock puppets,” Heather slurred. “These’r…sock puppets.”
“Han’ puppets, sock puppets, whogivesadamn?” Crista’s green sock came after Heather’s checkered one with renewed ferocity. “Arrrrrrrrgh!”
“Jesus no!” Heather leaned back, stretching her arm as far as it would go, toppling on her back and lying there laughing and red faced as Crista’s “hand puppet” set about doing a victory howl and methodically feasting on its fallen prey. “Hey-hey! Knock it off, that tickles!”
(eventually calls the friend, who reminds her that they heard something in her bushes, so she went to investigate and fell asleep instead, Crista goes back to her room afterwards to tell Heather that a passerby recorded them and put it on YouTube).
Crista had been over, as per usual on a Friday night. Heather’s roommate was off somewhere getting drunk, also as per usual. Probably one of the frat parties or something. Heather had opened the door with two freshly opened beer cans, shoving one at her best friend with a grin. “Here’s to the end of the week!”
“Amen,” Crista responded, taking it after a moment and raising arm, the two cans rubbing against each other before cheap beer could wash down the girls’ throats.
And as usual, one beer lead to another…and another…and another. A couple hours later, they were completely gone, putting socks on their hands and giggling like a pair of kindergarteners that were supposed to be painting but instead had smeared it on the unfortunate boy next to them.
“P-Playin’….with hand puppets! College…an’ we’re playing with hand puppets.”
“Sock puppets,” Heather slurred. “These’r…sock puppets.”
“Han’ puppets, sock puppets, whogivesadamn?” Crista’s green sock came after Heather’s checkered one with renewed ferocity. “Arrrrrrrrgh!”
“Jesus no!” Heather leaned back, stretching her arm as far as it would go, toppling on her back and lying there laughing and red faced as Crista’s “hand puppet” set about doing a victory howl and methodically feasting on its fallen prey. “Hey-hey! Knock it off, that tickles!”
(eventually calls the friend, who reminds her that they heard something in her bushes, so she went to investigate and fell asleep instead, Crista goes back to her room afterwards to tell Heather that a passerby recorded them and put it on YouTube).