(no subject)
There was snow on the ground, there was a chill in the air, and Christmas was afoot. Sally had always spent her childhood insisting that if Santa really existed, then he would give her a rich husband so she could retire and inflate (possibly not in that exact order). Santa never quite came, though, and it wasn't like she was doing it for herself and so she found herself standing outside of the Compound with snow contemplatively in her hands.
She had been doing her best to form an anatomically correct snow-hunk. The legs, the arms, the six-pack, the package and she was wishing for Jane. Of all people, Jane would know what to do with snow and a man-shaped thing. Of course, she might try and throw down in order to have sex with it, but that was just a Jane-side-effect.
She hefted a wet hunk of snow in her hands as she studied the snowman's chin. He stood near-six-foot (because any good man was tall) and Sally was staring at his neck. It was almost like he was the perfect man. With good manners, Sally could marry the thing. He would give her space of her own and would let her change him constantly.
It was like a dream come true.
"Now," she spoke aloud thoughtfully as she smoothed the snow in her hand. "Do you get a cleft chin or are you going to be a strong dashing man without those genetics to pass on to our half-human hypothetical attractive children?"
She had been doing her best to form an anatomically correct snow-hunk. The legs, the arms, the six-pack, the package and she was wishing for Jane. Of all people, Jane would know what to do with snow and a man-shaped thing. Of course, she might try and throw down in order to have sex with it, but that was just a Jane-side-effect.
She hefted a wet hunk of snow in her hands as she studied the snowman's chin. He stood near-six-foot (because any good man was tall) and Sally was staring at his neck. It was almost like he was the perfect man. With good manners, Sally could marry the thing. He would give her space of her own and would let her change him constantly.
It was like a dream come true.
"Now," she spoke aloud thoughtfully as she smoothed the snow in her hand. "Do you get a cleft chin or are you going to be a strong dashing man without those genetics to pass on to our half-human hypothetical attractive children?"