Dysfunction Archives

November 28, 2006

Stacy: Til Death Do Us Part

“Poison?? You mean like that really bad 80s perfume?”

“No, love, real poison…specifically fugu, the Japanese blowfish. You just ate it.”

“I did? Oh, that nasty raw fish appetizer. I wondered why you suddenly wanted to have sushi, after all these years.”

“Well, darling, it wasn’t until now that you were worth quite so much to me dead. You see, your aunt died yesterday. The lawyers say you’re going to inherit ten million.”

“Wow, Aunt Tinkie died? She was my favorite aunt, too. Oh well. It’s a good thing I had the cook put tetradotoxin in your champagne. Cheers!”

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November 29, 2006

Stacy: Crazy Love

Her hands shook slightly as she punched in the numbers.

9 for the number of times he cheated on her.

0 for the number of times he apologized.

4 for the number of times she’d been suspended for botched jobs.

1 for the number of times she’d been fired.

0 for the number of times he said “I love you.”

She hit ENABLE and closed the cover of the control box. She threw a dusty tarp over the device and climbed the stairs to the alley.

She checked her watch. Plenty of time to make the 4:05 flight to Bali.

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February 5, 2007

Stacy: Zen is a Relative Thing

Ichi.

God, I wish the screaming in my head would stop. They’re only quiet when there’s blood.

Ni.

Sixty-eight and counting. Tonight it will be sixty-nine.

San.

Someone special this time. Someone young.

Shi.

The newly moved-in neighbors have a boy, don’t they? About twelve or so.

Go.

Yes, he’d be well worth the risk. So much power at that age.

Roku.

Oopsie, a dark pebble. Can’t have that in here.

Shichi.

Need grab some new scalpel blades from the infirmary.

Hachi.

And some candy…Skittles, maybe. Or Nerds.

Kyu.

Shut up, SHUTUP!! I’m doing it, ok, just shut up!

Ju.

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February 14, 2007

Stacy: Nothing Like Love

“Damn, honey, you’re a good kisser,” he breathed, brushing back her platinum blonde hair. They’d only just met, but what the hell, he’d rub one out with her and be home before midnight.

‘Yes, I am,” she said, her crimson lips sliding back to reveal abnormally long canines. She grabbed a handful of hair and yanked his head back. She slid her fangs into his jugular… or would have if the kevlar implants under the skin hadn’t turned them aside. She looked astonished as the stake slid into her heart.

“Should’ve played nice,” he muttered as she crumbled to dust.

The word is “stakes” from “Blood Rites” by Jim Butcher (Book Six in the Dresden Files series)

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February 16, 2007

Stacy: Taking

Adriana didn’t like people who took things. Her father had taken her virginity and her childhood. Her mother had taken her ability to trust and her beloved pet cat. Her therapist had taken her time and her money. George had taken her heart and her brand new Lexus.

She made some appointments, ran some errands, arranged her affairs and her hair. She emptied her mind and her refrigerator. Then she locked up her house and her conscience.

Adriana had two weeks vacation time and a Barrett M-1 sniper rifle. Now Adriana was about to do some taking of her own.

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June 27, 2007

Stacy: Hishi-kikkou

She woke reluctantly, head pounding. She cracked one eye then rapidly closed it. Too bright. She tried to stretch, but got nowhere. Confused, she tried again, yelped at the unmistakable pain of returning blood flow. She forced her eyes open, found her entire nude body wreathed in an elaborate pattern of cord and knots.

‘What the fuck…’

Memories of the evening trickled back… dinner with Gary and Susan, then drinks, then… nothing. A featherlight touch brushed her cheek, then stung as something slashed across her face. Susan walked into view, riding crop in hand.

“So glad you’re awake,” she purred.

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July 19, 2007

Stacy: All You Need Is Love?

“You know what, John? I am tired. Tired of this stupid relationship. It is not the magical mystery tour you seem to think it is, and I want out.”

“Babe, come on… we can work it out. Can’t we?”

“No, John, I have seriously had it. You go out every night, I never know where you are or who you’re with. And now… this. What am I supposed to think about this? Those shoes do not match that dress. And that hat, I swear, John. Your mother should know you’re raiding her closet.”

John sighed resignedly and removed his wig.

1. Magical Mystery Tour
2. We Can Work It Out
3. Your Mother Should Know

Extra points for the title?? :)

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December 26, 2007

Stacy: Citizen's Divorce

She arose early, careful not to wake him. She dressed quickly, then crept downstairs to retrieve the suitcase hidden under the stairwell. She pulled on her coat and…the brightly wrapped present sitting on the hall table drew her up short. They hadn’t bothered to decorate for Christmas. What was the point, really…they had no kids, thank god.

He came downstairs a while later to find the body in the hallway, her face set in a rictus of agony, bloody furrows gouged in the parquet flooring. He’d have to call the floor guys tomorrow. Oh, and that snake guy, whatsisname.

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January 30, 2008

Stacy: In the Dark

Dinner was excellent. The filet was fork-tender, the asparagus crisp and sweet. He even made dessert…crème brulèe with a perfect glassy-sugar top.

He was either going to ask me to marry him, or murder me.

Over glasses of Cointreau he asked me to accompany him to the basement.

“I want to show you something,” he said, eyes dancing.

Here it is, I thought, the dènoument.

I followed him down into the gloom, and as he reached for the light switch I coshed him smartly across the occipital.

He tumbled down the stairs to land amid planters of Chanterelles.

“Oops.”

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