Amazing Alliteration Adventures: Act II

The two of them tripped through the tavern. Darkness dimmed their drunken journey. Kelly cuddled closer to Kevin.

“The stars sure seem singularly shiny,” she sighed softly.

Kevin coughed. His fingers followed the folds of her frock. They wistfully wound round her waist.

“Holy hippo honey.” He hugged her hungrily. “I cannot keep completely quiet. You know now, my nymph, I need you. Leave that lousy loaf of a looser. The whole hope of my happiness hinges on having your heart. I would willingly wander the wild wilderness of Wisconsin to win you. Come kiss me Kelly.”

“Please,” she pleaded. “We’re positively pissed! That third tequila tipped my total towards twenty.”

“I’m always an inebriated, inept, idiotic addict when you’re around. Don’t disparage darling. Drinks definitely don’t destroy the deepest devotions.”

“Drinks do destroy discernment.”

“Let’s lock lips and let lesser lovers live life in laughable languishing.”

Kelly kissed Kevin. Kevin kissed Kelly. The two tipsy travelers touched tenderly. His happy hands hung on her hips.

“Get your grubby grips off my girl!” Craig cried crossly. “I won’t watch you wipe your whistler all over my wife.” His huge hands heaved the hapless, happy huggers apart.

“Sir,” Kevin stuttered. “Surely you saw that she started…”

Craig waved his words to the wind. “Lie and I’ll litter your lousy limbs high and low. I heard your horrible hypnotic humming turning her touched head. Gentlemen generally grant graces to gin-soaked girls. You sir are simply unsavory.”

The two men tumbled to the tarmac in a tangled twist of turbulent thumps. Punches pummeled poor Kevin. He whimpered and whined wretchedly. Craig lost himself in loads of loony laughter.

Kelly kicked Craig. “Craig you creepy crawler! You cruddy, contemptible, cruel, crap-for-brains, canine! You can’t consistently crawl around. Can’t you comprehend I’ve completely changed. Kevin cares for me. I care for Kevin. So, keep your crusty claws off my charming Kevin or I’ll quickly crush your callous chest until it caves.” Her hand hit his head. The slap signaled silence for the troubled trio. Kevin crawled from Craig and cowered cautiously behind Kelly.

A one word warning whipped willfully from the feisty fräulein, “Flee!”

Craig chuckled. “Sure sweetheart.” A simpering smile suddenly slid slyly over his seductive face. “I will walk away. But beware. When your willful wild streak snaps, I won’t be willing to wipe your whiffer.”

Kelly remembered, really remembered, the romantic rendezvous with Craig. She suddenly screamed.

“Craig please pardon my passing passion. I’m pickled. Pissed. Plastered! This predicament is purely potty. There’s only one wonder-boy for this worshiping wife. Don’t depart darling. Your kisses can cleanse Kevin’s corrosive cancer from my callous cadaver.”

Craig cackled contemptuously. “Frankly fräulein…” the familiar phrase went unfinished. He flipped her the finger and frolicked forward leaving his lovely lady to lament her lifetime of loneliness.

© Rachel Svendsen 2014

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Amazing Alliteration Adventures: Act I

“Three thespians.” Sally slowly slid sideways, unsecuring her seatbelt. “These perplexing puzzles are positively peculiar.” She sighed. “This murderer’s MO might make most actors migrate.”

“Chief will be chuffed,” Sybil sneered. “He hates histrionics.”

Sally shook her head. “He despises depravity deeper and the paperwork pisses him.”

Wilma waved from the walkway. “Detectives,” she said. “The deceased died dangling from the doorframe of this dumpy domicile.”

“Time of termination?” Sybil asked.

Wilma wiped her whiffer. “Three thirty.”

“Three thirty?” Sally sighed. “The twin termination time as the other three thespians. This is getting thick!”

Low laughter lifted the ladies’ eyes. Sharon’s head hung happily from a second story skylight.

“Sharon the malicious murderer!” Sybil snapped. “We should have suspected.”

Sharon cackled corruptly. “You yodeling yankees! Your useless understanding won’t outwit me. I’m impervious!” Sharon slammed the skylight shut. Loads of loony laughter lilted downward.

Sally stared solemnly skyward. “She’s so strange,” she said.

Sybil shrugged. “Someone should send some slugs sailing swiftly southward. Sharon’s skull should shatter soon. She shan’t stop sans some intersession.”

Sally smirked slyly. “Thankfully I trump at trick shots.” Sally stood still, her handgun hoisted heavenward. Three slugs slid speedily south. Sharon shrieked. Sybil hurriedly opened the hatch. The two flatfoots fleetly flew forward almost falling up the flight of steps.

Blood radiated round Sharon’s wound in red rings.

“Definitely dead,” Sybil said.

“I always accomplish my aim,” Sally sniggered. She glided her gun guardedly into its grip. “Mission mastered. Let’s leg it.”

“Don’t donuts sound scrummy?” Sybil said.

“Definitely donuts.”

The two friendly flatfoots went westward down Downing Street. The sweet smell of Dunkin’ Donuts wafted their way.

© Rachel Svendsen 2014