| | How cool. I'm actually able to post my insanity in here. Of course, you do realize that a very harsh - according to some - word appears in it?
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"Excuse me," said the stranger, not blunt, "but may I borrow that cell phone,
you fucking cunt?"
Ronald, who thought the stranger seemed pleasant enough, said, "Oh I
don't see any reason why not," and held out the cell phone.
"I can't?" inquired the stranger, as if Ronald had refused his
request.
"My friend, I said you CAN use it. Here, go ahead."
"God, what reason have I given you to mistrust me, you dog dump?"
"No reason at all," Ronald insisted. "Look, I WANT you to use it. Go."
"This is an outrage! It's not as if I've called you a baboon bum, you
baboon bum. Now hand it over!" And taking the phone by force, the
stranger made off with it. His feet stayed put, pinning him to the
spot, but his arms pistoned hard as he put his all into the escape.
However, Ronald was quick to react, and bent himself to the chase. He
worked his arms furiously, and although his feet remained right where
they were, he was hot on the heels of his quarry, who was only three
feet ahead.
Boy it was difficult bridging the gap though, for they were both
going nowhere at the same speed. No matter how hard Ronald got those
arms going, no matter how determined an expression he allowed his
face to form, he couldn't close the gap, because the stranger was
equally ample of arm action and facial freedom.
His only hope lay in the upcoming bend they had to take, at which
point the stranger, surely assuming he couldn't negotiate a hard left
at his current haste, would have to slow down. So Ronald, not
needing to slow quite so soon, might just be able to ...
Hell, the corner was upon them already, so fast were they going
nowhere, and as the stranger leaned into it, easing off at the arms
as he did, Ronald reached out his hand in the hope he'd catch some
clothing. But he was five centimeters short, damn it. So close yet so
far. And then he too had to sacrifice some arm speed to take the
turn, leaving him with no ground gained again.
"Bastaaaard!" he cried, frustration now flowing freely. "Give me back
that ... phone, you ..."
Damn, he was even tiring now too, unable to sustain such upper-body
bravado, and his arm action began ebbing. Yet equally so was the
stranger in strife, soon chancing some backward glances in fear that
Ronald wasn't wilting with him, and was about to boot him up the bum.
So the gap was mother-fucking maintained. Even though the sweat
sheathing the stranger's face was worse each glance back he gave,
likewise was Ronald running with worse and worse wet. Even though the
stranger was now at pains to just jog his arms, Ronald was once again the
equal of his wear. Even though both mens' arms then began simply swinging
at their sides, a wretched divide remained. Even though they
eventually came to a stand-still, Ronald couldn't catch his quarry,
remaining just out of arms reach.
"Excuse me," Ronald said, not blunt, "but may I borrow that cell
phone, you fucking cunt?"
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