I arrived at the Temple just on time, or rather I arrived in the parking lot just on time, the obvious tragedy being that I was suppose to be sitting across the desk from the Goddess by now. But that I even made it this close is a miracle in itself, or rather it would be if I had actually been in the Goddess's good graces. No the only intervention in this case seemed to be Chief Jeff's willingness to look the other way as I speed across Cirra, running stop lights. Apparently Jeff was having a good day, that or maybe he just had a little money riding in the "Will the Bard Survive the Day" pool.
I searched all over the Temple but could not find the Goddess. Oh please, don't let her have left, oh please don't let her have left, oh please, oh please...
A thought slams painfully into my head: OH PLEASE! DEAR BARD! STOP YOUR INCESSANT WHINING!! P.s. I am in your apartment.
Picking myself up off the floor, I wonder why I didn't think of that.
GC: ((sending another thought my way)) You have to ask?
When I enter my apartment I hear the shower running. Frowning, I struggle to keep from thinking...why can't she just use her own shower?
Picking myself up off the floor, I head towards the kitchen. Naturally, it's a mess. Bar None wrappers, Pop Tart crumbs, and Dr. Pepper cans litter the counter. "Hudson," I mumble as I begin to clean up.
Twenty minutes later the Goddess emerges from the shower. She comes down the stairs wearing a Debbie Gibson Live in Concert T-shirt with matching shorts. Oh dear Gods, she's been in my closet again.
MM: ((blank stare))
GC: Well it was either this or "Freddy Kruggar Lives!" Don't you ever do laundry? Besides, you're one to talk. ((noting my Joxer garb)) At least remove the spaghetti strainer!
MM: ((remove the spaghetti strainer))
GC: The hat too.
MM: ((kinda liked the hat))
GC: What?
MM: Nothing. ((take off the hat))
GC: ((runs her fingers through her hair grabs hold of the ends and shoves them under my nose)) Smell my hair.
MM: What?
GC: I can't seem to get the stench out. Thanks to you.
((Who knew the Goddess would be so squeamish.))
GC: I am not squeamish Melissa, I just don't appreciate being drenched in regurgitated ((shiver)) ((runs back to the shower))
Twenty minutes later the Goddess re-emerged from the shower.
GC: ahhh, much better. I found some shampoo of Hudson's. Really seemed to do the trick.
MM: That Italian stuff?
GC: Mmm-hmm. ((suddenly growing very serious, sigh)) Melissa, we need to talk.
MM: About what Goddess? You know I am ....
GC: ((holds up dismissive hand)) My fault. What I meant to say is, I'm going to talk, *you* need to listen. Sit down.
MM: ((drop to the floor))
GC: ((rolls her eyes)) On the chair.
MM: ((move to the chair))
GC: I am at the end of my rope with you today...
MM: ((Thinking: I'm sorry Goddess))
GC: I mean, I give and I give...
MM: ((I'm not worthy))
GC: And how do you repay me? In puke.
MM: ((Lick it up baby, lick...it...up.))
What an unfortunate time for that particular scene from _Heathers_ to be running through my mind....
Trancer: Well she seems to have a pulse.
Fireman#1: That's a good sign isn't it?
Trancer: Hard to tell where the Goddess is concerned. Melissa? ((pokes the bard in the side)) Melissa, wake up.
MM: ((straining to open my eyes, see Trancer looking down at me)) Oh great, I've died and gone to Texas.
Return to the Bard's Pathetic Stories