NEW STORY
The plump lady practiced her singing in the upstairs salon.
Raising a glass of wine delicately between her stubby thumb and index finger to the light, she stared at the red liquid as she sang the first notes of the piece that she would perform that night.
Downstairs, the Romanian gigolo paced the floor and looked at his watch.
"Damn it! Does she think I have that much time to waste waiting for her?" he muttered between his breath.
As she hit her high note , the delicate glass cracked between her chubby fingers causing her newly washed dress to become stained with deep red wine.
Now she would have to change clothes before leaving for the Opera house...perhaps the green brocade with the fitted bodice that she had only worn once before would do.
The gigolo, patience at an end, bound up the stairs. "Does she think I will wait forever" he fumed.
He entered the salon without knocking on the door first.
The sight of her standing there in only her chemise would normally have excited him, but at this hour, it was maddening.
Not knowing about the wine spill, his eyes fell to the stained dress on the floor in sheer panic.
how, how, could he taste the wine without glass shards on tongue?
Of course, the only way was to suck the sweet liquid out of the stained dress like a vampire.
Quickly he reached into his pocket and pulled out his trusty gold straw and began savoring every last drop of wine he could before it soaked completely into her dress .
Francesca was horrified at the sight of Carlo sucking on her dress...what a ghastly display of bad manners!
She rebuffed him, waving her fan and calling for the porters.
He laughed at her gesture, saying, "I am Carlos Vladimir Vostoya, a destroyer of men, and a seducer of women--do you think I can be shooed away by an ostentatious wench in a dime store chemise?"
She glared and readied herself to do a basso profundo maneuver.
With a snap of his fingers, the door flew open and Carlos' contingent of bodyguards rushed into the room--five brutishly big and dumb-looking men wearing identical powder-blue leisure suits--weapons drawn and aimed directly at Francesca's face.
They stared at that strangely distorted face, with its repellent lack of chin, overhanging nose, bushy eyebrow (yes just one that stretched across her brow like Liam Gallagher in drag), large ears and huge black rimmed spectacles - now gazing in horror through mud coloured eyes at their raised weapons.
<please go back to your old avatar kicky!>
She quickly began to back track in her attitude stammering " Im sorry oh master, I didnt realize I had offended you this way. Shall I wring out the dress at your feet?" She begged.
