HOME | DD

Description
“I’m hungry,” Sam moaned, rolling around on her bedspread.

“I weep for your plight,” Diana retorted, “But keep your face off my quilt, will you? I couldn’t get the blood out of the last one.”

“It’s just my eye socket,” he wheedled plaintively, even as he obeyed. “And could we focus here? I really need a snack. I’ve been clean all week, straight diet of pig carcass, I swear. Come on! You butchered them yourself!”

Diana sighed. “Zombies. All you ever think about is food.”

He nuzzled close, nipping the side of her jaw as she winced. “And sex,” he purred, “You forgot about the sex part.”

She rolled her eyes, and smacked him with a hand. “Shaun of the Dead made you guys out to be so much better than you’ll actually are.”

“Food!” Sam crowed, and immediately sunk his teeth into the fleshy part of the palm. Diana flung the paring knife onto the table, where it spattered blood across her phone bill. “Thanks, baby.” He licked the stump of her left hand appreciatively, catching the blood before it stained the sheets.

She smacked him again, and he choked on a fingernail. “Don’t call me baby,” she said lightly, “It’s demeaning, not to mention erroneous. I’m at least twenty-eight hundred years older than you.”

Sam chortled, spraying bits of muscle and tissue over the front of his shirt. “Yeah, and you spent thirty hundred of those years on Fifth Avenue. Or whatever’s Greek for Fifth Avenue.”

Diana sniffed in disapproval. “The Greeks saw women as chattel.”

“I see where you got your strong sense of self from,” Sam snickered. “But Arty, if it means anything, you don’t look a day over twenty.”

That made her laugh. “Divinity usually turns out that way.”

“But your mom doesn’t look twenty,” he whinged. “She looks like your mom.”

A rumble of thunder caused Sam to dart a worried glance at the window.

Diana brayed with laughter. She managed to point downstairs with her right hand while pounding the bed with her left. “She’s got an altar in the backyard. On your knees, boy!”

“But you know I only get on my knees for you, Arty,” he crooned. Another rumble of thunder made him look out the window with a smidgen of actual fear. “Couldn’t I just, like, ask you to interrupt instead? You are her applicant or whatever, right?”

She snorted. “It’s intercede and supplicant, genius. I’m starting to think some of that rot got to your brain.”

Description
“I’m hungry,” Sam moaned, rolling around on her bedspread.

“I weep for your plight,” Diana retorted, “But keep your face off my quilt, will you? I couldn’t get the blood out of the last one.”

“It’s just my eye socket,” he wheedled plaintively, even as he obeyed. “And could we focus here? I really need a snack. I’ve been clean all week, straight diet of pig carcass, I swear. Come on! You butchered them yourself!”

Diana sighed. “Zombies. All you ever think about is food.”

He nuzzled close, nipping the side of her jaw as she winced. “And sex,” he purred, “You forgot about the sex part.”

She rolled her eyes, and smacked him with a hand. “Shaun of the Dead made you guys out to be so much better than you’ll actually are.”

“Food!” Sam crowed, and immediately sunk his teeth into the fleshy part of the palm. Diana flung the paring knife onto the table, where it spattered blood across her phone bill. “Thanks, baby.” He licked the stump of her left hand appreciatively, catching the blood before it stained the sheets.

She smacked him again, and he choked on a fingernail. “Don’t call me baby,” she said lightly, “It’s demeaning, not to mention erroneous. I’m at least twenty-eight hundred years older than you.”

Sam chortled, spraying bits of muscle and tissue over the front of his shirt. “Yeah, and you spent thirty hundred of those years on Fifth Avenue. Or whatever’s Greek for Fifth Avenue.”

Diana sniffed in disapproval. “The Greeks saw women as chattel.”

“I see where you got your strong sense of self from,” Sam snickered. “But Arty, if it means anything, you don’t look a day over twenty.”

That made her laugh. “Divinity usually turns out that way.”

“But your mom doesn’t look twenty,” he whinged. “She looks like your mom.”

A rumble of thunder caused Sam to dart a worried glance at the window.

Diana brayed with laughter. She managed to point downstairs with her right hand while pounding the bed with her left. “She’s got an altar in the backyard. On your knees, boy!”

“But you know I only get on my knees for you, Arty,” he crooned. Another rumble of thunder made him look out the window with a smidgen of actual fear. “Couldn’t I just, like, ask you to interrupt instead? You are her applicant or whatever, right?”

She snorted. “It’s intercede and supplicant, genius. I’m starting to think some of that rot got to your brain.”