"ForLorn" Excerpt from Chapter One cont..........

....The Ensign tasted the brown sludge the Cmmdr called coffee. He was repulsed It gave his mouth the sensation of warm asphalt. As a house guest, a house mooch, a loathesome house parasite, he could only smile and, misdirecting the Cmmdr's gaze with a "Look, the Mailman!" pour the bile down the drain. "I've got to get to a fucking PEETS" he thought sadly. The Cmmdr, heaving his great girth from its perch to peer anxiously out the window pronounced sadly "that's not the mailman, you idiot, that's a fence..I continue to have nothing" and breathless, returned to his original positiion of not so much sitting as oozing at the kitchen table. He wanted desperately to measure the amout of water the Ensign had used while ruining his garage, but didn't have the strength. He eyed the pile of newspapers. Had they been touched he wondered. Were they in the exact correct order? What exactly had the Ensign touched??
The half-man half-pork Yeti of a host then mockingly asked "Well, my little christ killer, what's on today's docket?"
This snide question dangled in the air like the Ensign's enlarged prostate. How dare the CMMDR ask this. He knew there was no docket. He knew there had never been a docket. He knew there would never in a million, billion, zillion years be a docket. There was in fact, a dirth of dockets. He knew this and yet cheerily breached the subject of the docket with the self assured air of someone with dockets, dockets and more dockets. For a moment, neither spoke. It was as if time had stopped and the little docket, dressed in nothing but a loin cloth took the opportunity to tip-toe its way down the street, take a bus across town, find its way to the Pacific Crest Trail, do the back stroke in Crater Lake, snap pictures atop Mount Ranier and finally in a reckless moment, leap off the summit and tumble to death in the snowpack below.
But the Ensign was stoic. He would not take the bait. Instead he shoved three pretzel rods into his aging goateed mouth and whispered "So, you really don't want me to come to Maine, do you?"
The CMMDR sputtered, grunted and finally roared "HONEY, did you get those FUDGE BARS?"

to be cont...