J.J. Devine said “It’s been a while since we’ve done a Flash Fiction so let’s do this again. Give me a scene of 500 words that contain the words, happiness, egg, and purple.” Woo, tough one. Did you get a chance to check out what Gemma Brocato wrote? It was sooooo dreamy. She really knows how to set a scene. =)

Here’s my take on it.

If she had known that the recipe for happiness included a boiled egg and a purple wig, Jill could have saved a ton of time and aggravation. Pablo was difficult to shop for, especially since he claimed to hate his own birthday.

“That’s good, now turn this way.”

She swiveled. “This is definitely not my good side.”

“Every side is your good side.” Sweet talker.

“Yeah, well…”

Light flashed in the corner of her eye. Pablo mumbled to himself, giddy. It was kind of adorable, if not a little weird.

“I can’t believe I never noticed how much you look like her.” Ever since Jill agreed to this impromptu photo shoot, she’d ceased to be his beloved wife and had become little more than a prop.

The temperature in the room was unbearably hot. The whir of a small, portable fan barely stirred the air. Her black leather pants had begun to stick in places where she’d rather they didn’t. The wig itched and her face smelled like feet. Pablo kept click-click-clicking away.

“This egg is starting to rot under these lights.”

The camera went quiet. “Aww, I’m sorry babe. I’m almost done. These are going to be great!” He paused. “You know…”

Uh oh. Now what?

“Tickets for Comic-Con go on sale this week.”

“Yeah?” Of course she knew that, she had every intention of getting him a pair. She’d slip them into his birthday card.

“You’re the perfect Leela. And I could go as Fry!” As if.

“Dear, sweet hubby o’ mine, when you said roleplay-“

“Cosplay.”

“Whatever. This isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

What she did have in mind was a curve-hugging corset for her and a breezy peasant shirt for him. And a kilt. Mmmm… Definitely a kilt. Worn in the true Highlander way. Commando. Great. Now she was horny. And she still smelled like eggs.

“Babe?”

“Huh?

“The egg is slipping.”

Arrgh! “Pablo, dear?”

“Yeah?”

“So is your standing in my good graces.” Jill heard his audible gulp and stifled a giggle.

“Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“Not since you sat me here on this stool, no. My memories before that are fuzzy.”

“Ha. Ha.” She heard him approach. Jill expected a soft kiss or a warm embrace, signaling the end of the ordeal, but no. He adjusted the egg, adding more putty to her forehead before kissing her cheek.

“I love you more than anything.”

“Anything?”

“Yep, and since you’re being so gracious-“

Cough.

“Go on.”

“As I was saying, since you’re being such a good sport about this, you can pick the next one.”

“The next one? Is this a thing now? Like, our thing?”

“It could be.”

“And…we’d take pictures?”

She heard him set the camera down. “Or, you know, whatever.”

Jill lifted the painted sunglasses that had covered her eyes. Pablo, in all of his glory, came into focus. Hip-hugging jeans, bare chest, disheveled hair. Yum.

“I’m totally up for whatever.”

“C’mere Leela.” He pulled her into his arms.

“Oh…Fry.”

***

That went in a completely different direction than I intended, but whatevs. =) By the way, do you know Fry and Leela? Now you understand how my brain works. Sorta.

Well, that’s it for this week’s blog hop. If I am your first stop, head on back to Brenda Margriet ‘s and see what she wrote. See you next time!