A Christmas Tale
Story, Janus Logo & Characters © PJB except the Wizard, he's Bill Hart's.
NB: This story was issued in four parts, one each day starting December 21st, with the last part, and conclusion, being posted 24th December 2001. The Complete story is given below. (Editing by Steve Z with my thanks)
The date was December 21st, the place an anonymous shopping mall in middle America. It was cold outside, and snow was falling for the first time in many years. Everyone was well wrapped up against the cold, and those brave souls who did venture out hurried from store to store, getting last minute essentials, just in case this Christmas was going to be the one where they would be snowed in.
In amongst all the hustle and bustle, one portly gentleman made his way through the crowds, and went down the side arcade toward the shop at the end. He hardly noticed the run down aspects of the stores on either side of him; his attention was fixed on the dingy looking windows ahead of him. He could just make out the faded lettering, "Spells 'R' Us" through the dirt.
The old man in the weird bathrobe was getting things ready for his next sucker, sorry, customer, when the door to the mall opened with its customary tinkling bell. The Wiz looked up, thinking it was a bit early for his expected customer, and in walked the portly stranger.
The rare passing car showed that she was tall, and wore a white blouse with a long black patterned skirt. A waterproof jacket covered most of her blouse and her trainers peeked from below the skirt as she walked. Her long auburn hair was partly covered by the hood of her jacket. She was obviously nervous for some reason, maybe she was being chased or perhaps her errand this night was not exactly legal. We shall soon see.
Finally she neared her destination, she looked around her and seeing no one, stepped into the alley beside the bakery. She stepped further in until she was opposite the back door of the town's bakery. She stopped and looked around further, pulling a small flashlight from her coat pocket. Flicking the switch, she checked around, limping slightly as she did so.
"Thank goodness, no one around. No bum sleeping off a skinful." Her voice was very deep, as she muttered to herself in the dark.
St Patrick's Day
Let me tell you the tale of Josie. If you can, try to read it in a soft Irish accent, it'll help!
Josie is just a little under five foot tall, but is shaped so exquisitely that you never notice that you look down to talk to her. She has the most wonderful legs, and her body is taut and very trim. She always wears clothes that conceal as much of her skin as possible.
For example, yesterday she wore her usual double layer tops of black scoop neck T-shirt over which is her tight grey top which hugs her body almost like a second skin. If you look closely, you can see the outline of her bra, as well as the seams of the C cups supporting her firm, pert breasts. Her knee length black skirt shows off her curvy bottom, and the opaque black tights hide the skin of her legs down to her modest two-inch heeled black shoes.
Her auburn hair is cut quite severely, but when you look into her eyes you can almost see the Emerald Isle looking back at you. As for when she smiles, treasure these times, they are rare. When she smiles, you forget everything and just listen to her every word, just waiting for the beautiful, soft Irish accent to caress your ears once more.
But things are not always what they seem. You note the wedding ring on her finger and realize that she is already spoken for, and you die a little inside.
The Travelling Salesman
Deane was a gigolo I suppose is the best, and kindest term to describe him. No female between 18 and 50 was safe from him. He liked, and loved, them all. If they were pretty, they were fair game, it didn't matter if they were single, married, dating or widowed, once he saw a pretty face, a trim figure, some stunning legs, he went for them.
Quite how he managed to talk so many women into having sex with him so quickly after meeting them, I don't know, and Deane certainly isn't saying, not now. I'm getting ahead of myself now, so let me tell you what happened to Deane this last week.
Well, he is, well, was about 6 foot tall, in his late twenties, muscular, good looking, athletic of build, though he didn't have to work at it. Eyes of blue, a full head of black hair and dressed like he was a top male model.
He was a travelling salesman, best in his firm of course, it seemed that whatever he did, he excelled at it, seemingly without trying. No, I'm not jealous! Honest.
Ain't Payback A Bitch
Best to get it over with, she may be a real bitch, but she is gorgeous to say the least. Thick luxuriant auburn hair, almost long enough for her to sit on, a firm 38D bust on top of a 28-36 figure and legs so long and shapely any male in the vicinity wondered if he would need oxygen by the time he got to the top of them.
"Hi, this is Phil, how can I help you today Louise?" he asked, following the firm's rules about answering the phone.
"Oh hello Phil, I'm glad I caught you," her sultry voice purred down the phone at him. "Listen Phil, I'm having a little get together at my house tonight, would you like to come? The MD and his wife would be there and I'm sure I could get you two together." The bitch knew all the right buttons to press with any man she wanted and the chance to talk to the MD about a few things was all Phil needed to say Yes, admittedly against his better instincts.
"Yes, okay, then, what time should I..."
"Don't bother about that Phil, come home with me now, and you can help me get a few things ready, besides, we can take this opportunity to get to know each other a little better first. Hmmm? What do you say?" she purred.
"Hmmmp!" Was about all that Phil managed to stutter. Before he know what had happened he was in Louise's car driving up her driveway to her very expensive house. House, hell, more like one of those massive estates you saw on old re-runs of Dallas.