Not a False Word from These Lips.

Painting by William Hatherill

 "You're bleeding again," she says as she starts cleaning my shoulder with a wet towel. "What happened to you?"

Vampire bats.

A little laugh, then, "There are no vampire bats here. What happened?"

I was walking along the path down by the lake and listening to the rednecks down by the docks have sex when I saw a woman in front of me. She was unlike anything I had ever seen before. Tall, slender, and with the sort of blonde hair that only comes from Hollywood and doesn't exist in nature. She's wearing this white, silky thing that makes her look like a ghost in the moon light. 

"Really," she said with a note of danger entering into her tone. 

Really, I say solemnly.

There she was in front of me walking along the path and this great wind comes from ahead of us and blows her robe off. Do you know what she was wearing?

"What?"

Nothing more than god gave her at birth. I was shocked.

"You were, huh?"

Absolutely. Now she turns about and sees me with her robe and starts smiling at me. She holds her hand out towards me and starts bekoning me towards her. So I walk over and start fumbling over my words. 'Ma'am,' I say, 'you seem to have dropped something.'

Can you believe that? Me! At a loss for words because some blonde filly stands naked in front of me!

"Get to the point," she says with just a tinge more anger than she means to let out. 

Right. So she looks at me and starts talking in this strange language that sounds like music and starts trying to take off my pants!

"What?" she practically shouts.

And I say, 'Hold it now! I'm a married man!' and she stops. 

"But how did you hurt your shoulder?"

I fell on a rock trying to take my pants off.