Male/female alternating story word game!

"Oh my, Leopold my darling," said Mrs. God. "I thought you might rather I beam you up."

"Beam" he exclaimed, "i dont want no stinking ray of light nor aura so bright, i want Beam, Jim Beam, a fifth at least, and ice please."

Whatevah, said Ms God - here is your Beam and your beam - so long Leo - so many men and all eternity......

"time passes slowly when you're in a coma" he said pouring another double. The Ms. slammed the door of the Acura heading for another Blue Hair Special and a trim.

The man is delusional, thought Ms God, as she watched his beam reach earth, and he reassemble safely.

Now - she said - where to next? I wanna LIVE! Hmmm - that looks like a good crowd down there in that bar - what to wear? Black! I am so sick of that white. Perhaps a little black number - cut low, but not TOO low - and high, but not TOO high...black stockings, of course, bright red lipstick, and those heels that make my legs go on forever. A god CAN walk in them, too - and dance...Excelsior!

The room was small and badly lit. He opened the drawer on the table next to the bed. Two cigarettes, two matches, a five dollar bill, three ones, some nickels, dimes and pennies and, oddly, a Sacawega dollar coin.
It was Saturday night.

What to do tonight, he thought? Hmmmm - little choice with that amount of wherewithal.

He lit his second to last cigarette with his second to last match, and drew in the smoke, and reflected on how he came to be in this room, on this bed, in this place.....

then, in a flash, it came to him. Too many people had been interfering with his life. He had to take control and be the man he always knew he was. Down deep he realized that he alone was in control of all the obsequiousness he had felt throughout his miserable existence. And - with that he - - -

<<okey-dokey dlowan - run with this one!!>>

....pulled on his jacket, brushed down his pants, put his pathetic stash of money in his wallet, whistled a little tune, cast his destiny to the gods, and headed out for the nearest bar - looking for fun and trouble....on a shoestring.

Sounds like the stuff of a Script Writer's Dream. But, - - -

Naaaaaa!!

No jacket, it's summer down there. We don't brush jeans. We do whistle though!!! Don't worry boot moeney, then we cast our fate to the gods an look for the nearest grocery market - that's tha no. 1 spot on this blue ball ta find a moiat!! According ta tha stats!

So, Oi finds me self in tha vegi section av Kroger's Supermarket and lo an behold oi finds meself on tha same aisle as - - -

<bookmark>

A staggeringly beautiful creature, dressed in black, legs going on forever, full red lips and looking like a goddess.......and smiling at him. And this was happening not in the Tom Thumb or the Minyards or the Winn Dixie......but right here in Krogers, right here, g0d d@mn it! And here he was with a bottle of Jack and a jar of pretzels in his basket too. Dang nab it........

Blinking his eyes, he looked again and the heavenly creature was walking toward him, still smiling...............

A heated sensation, then a coldness overtook him. Unable to think, unable to even move - he was frozen, completely and mercilessly helpless and totally vulnerable to the apparition approaching him. There was no escape.

The End.

Ms God was stunned by the reality of a delightfully casual, perfectly seasoned male creature - with an open, clever, quizzical, wry face with just the perfect laugh lines and startlingly blue eyes - collapse before her, after having gazed at her in startled wonder for a brief instant - in the chocolate aisle, of all places.

She knelt to check his pulse and found none - he was dead!

Summoning her goddessliness, she dissolved the plaque in his coronary arteries, fixed a little circulation problem elsewhere that would, in future, have had a negative impact upon important functions in his life, healed the site of the MI in his heart muscle, and raised him from the dead.

"My god" he said, as his lovely eyes flickered open and gazed into hers, "I thought it was the end!"

"Oh, now I can see better. It's Ms God. All I recall is having a particularly poignant vision of a searingly sexual figure. I was desperately trying to breath and couldn't!!!" said the man.

"Well, you had a terrible infarction." said Ms God. "I have made it ok though."

"Damn, Oh excuse me!!!! Darn, no - drat - ahhh what the hell. Errr, that won't do either will it?" the man was still dazed but this time it wasn't a pretty sight.

Good revival there, dlowan. danon5, it is not necessary for you to be the only male responder. I would respectfully suggest that you give other prospective participants a chance.
So anyway (this is plausible in the set up to the story):

Mona was able to close out her register at the Tom Thumb right after 11 pm. She counted the cash and the coins, the packs of cigarettes and recorded the last serial numbers of the Scratch-N-Win lottery tickets.
She noticed that her ankles were swollen again. Eight hours on her feet was not good for a woman her age and weight.
Nick, the overnight clerk swaggered in: headphones around his neck and his arms draped around the shoulders of, as he was saying on previous nights with different girls: "two fine ladies."
Mona bought a pack of cigarettes and a 75 watt light bulb. She thought about walking the four blocks to her apartment. But she was tired so she caught the bus instead.
She went up the stairs to her small but tidy room, soon to be more brightly lit. She opened the drawer in the table next to her bed.

Her money was gone. Someone had stolen her money.

For a moment Mona was quite upset. She just knew she'd put her money in this drawer. This must be one 'o them senior moments she'd been hearin 'bout 'round the store.

"Huh," thought Mona.

Replacing the light bulb in her bedside lamp, she was pleased because the light had been out for a week.

"'nother senior moment," she thought, as she bent down to look through her bag for a good book.

(She'd been to the library today during lunch and couldn't wait to start.)

"Which should it be?" she thought, "Lolita," or "The Thirteen Vixens of the Amazon?"

Lola, gimme a break! Mona's only making $7/hour at the convenience store (with no health benefits, by the way). But she's no dummy. She's been robbed, dammit. She may or may not know it but the culprit was some one-dimensional cardboard-like character who prowls the aisles of Kroger late on a Saturday night.
You have her curl up with some pulp fiction? That's not the Mona I know.

come on realjohnboy, roll with it...........the robber can enter anytime, or she could be suffering from Alzheimer's, which ever, you write it........it's your turn. But for my taste, Mona's a complicated character. Worked all her life in Midlothian at the Tom Thumb, been working since she was 16. She dreams of something, but she's not sure what and she reads. There's nothing else to do in Midlothian...............but you do it.