Tuesday, July 28, 2009

The Streak - 43

Evan sat on Thelxie's couch. She put her bag and keys on the coffee table and got on her knees before him, stroking his thighs. She unfastened his belt and looked up at him with a devious smile. Then she undid his button, pulled down his zipper, pulled his pants and boxers to his knees.

"I'm so rude!" she said suddenly, leaning back.


"I... haven't... offered... you... a drink!" she responded in singsong, punctuating each beat by flicking his erection side-to-side.

"Oh! OK."

Thelxie strode into kitchen and disappeared from view. He heard the opening of a cupboard, the dull thud of glass placed on Formica. He sensed a vibration at his right ankle. His phone. The caller ID said the number was unknown. Not quite knowing why, he answered.

"Evan? It's Joe. Where is she?"

"What? Who?"

"The girl."

"Joe who?"

"Joe, Joe, Joe. Joe Maines. From Special Player Relations. From earlier tonight."

"Jesus, OK. What do you want?"

"Evan, where is she? Where is Thelxiepeia?"

"Who? Thel– uh, she's... she's in the kitchen right now," Evan whispered.

"Get out of there immediately."

"What?! Why?"

"That will be made abundantly clear to you, Evan. Time is of the essence."

"Joe, Jesus. It's kind of inconvenient at this very moment."

Thelxie called out from the kitchen. "Evan, what do you want to drink?"

Evan moved the phone away from his mouth. "Whatever you're having!" he said.

"Vodka on the rocks OK?"


"Is she offering you a drink?" said Joe with some alarm.


"What drink, Evan?"


"Interesting. It would have to be colorless, then."

"What would be colorless?"

"The poison. Might be polonium... dioxin... compound ten-eighty, maybe." Joe seemed momentarily distracted, as though he were taking notes.

"What makes you think she's poisoning me, for Christ's sake?"

"Evan!" Joe said suddenly, returning his full attention to the call. "Do not, do not, I repeat, do not drink the drink."

"I won't."

"We have some intelligence that this is moo's M.O. Entrapment via flattery and oral sex."

"Moo?" Evan's deflating penis now rested on his naked thigh.

"Moo. M.U. Mujahideen United. The latest and greatest threat to our freedom and our way of life."

"You think this chick I'm with is a terrorist?"

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line.

"We're not sure. Moving forward, we're going to require all player sexual partners to be vetted by SPR. Lisa's consulting with us on this, by the way. So I am asking you to exit the premises without further delay."

"It's a little awkward, Joe."

"I'm sorry to ruin your blowjob, Evan," Joe said earnestly. "Pull up your pants and decline the vodka."

"Good fucking God."

"Make an excuse like you got religion. Like you forgot you had a wife."


"I'm sorry to ruin your orgasm. I really am." Joe really seemed to mean it.

"What about Kyle?"

"Matt got to him in the nick of time. Extricated the potential hazard from his lair."

"Wow. OK."

"Goodbye Evan. We'll brief the team before the game tomorrow."

Evan hung up just as Thelxie walked in with their drinks. He pulled his pants back on and stood up.

"Who was that on the phone?" she asked, a hurt look on her face.

"I'm sorry, Thelxie. You're a nice girl," Evan stammered.

She tilted her head sternly, exasperated in advance with what might come.

"It's just that, with the game tomorrow, and my wife, and my kid..." his voice trailed off.

"Get the fuck out of here."

"Yup. Right."

"You stars think you can get away with anything. Make a fool of women."

Evan nodded glumly, taking his medicine.

"You get up and leave when a woman brings you a drink. Hey, fuck you."

"I get it. Sorry."

"I wanted to fuck Kyle anyway."

"They all do," he muttered as he turned away.

"Fuck you!" Thelxie repeated.

Evan took one last glimpse of her as he closed the door behind him. She stood in the half-light of her foyer in her stocking feet, still holding their two drinks. Trembling with rage.

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