Page 2 of Flirtasaurus
“Calliope. Girlfriend. Today is not the day it ends for you. This internship is the gorgeous stepping-stone you’ve been waiting for to make all your paleontological dreams come true. You really think you’ve come this far just to die crazed and alone in an elevator sex dungeon in the children’s wing of Philadelphia’s Museum of Natural Sciences? No friggin' way! This is the first day of the rest of your freakishly successful life! Those dinosaurs aren’t going to dig up and study themselves! The world of science needs you! DO YOU SUCKAS HEAR ME OUT THERE? THE WORLD OF SCIENCE NEEDS ME! I AM THE ABSOLUTE SHIZZ, AND I DON’T DESERVE TO DIE THIS WAY!”
“Hehe. Shizz.” The sound of a male voice suddenly rumbles in my head.
“Who’s talking right now!?” My body jolts like I’ve been tasered. I whip my head left and right, but clearly, this dude is on the other side of the sealed-shut elevator doors.
“You are talking right now. To yourself, apparently.”
“You know what I meant, you-you-you… Snarky Jollyman!”
“Snarky Jollyman! Oooh. Already doling out nicknames, are we?”
“How long have you been listening to me?”
“For a bit.”
“O-kaaaay. Do you work here? Are you here to get me out?”
“Yes, I work here, but… wait. Do I seem snarky to you?”
“Our interaction began two seconds ago, so clearly I know nothing about you, but yeah, you seem snarky as hell.”
“Snarkyandjolly? Wow!” He laughs.
No, actually. It’s not a laugh. It’s a chuckle. You know those back-of-your-throat chuckles that sound like choking on your own spit and gasping for breath while simultaneously impersonating a seal? Yeah, that kind. The kind of chuckle that signals true joy with zero fucks given for how ridiculous it sounds.
“Cool. Don’t think I’ve ever been called snarky before. Jolly, sure, but never snarky. I recently decided to become more of a bastard, though, so snarky feels like a nice first step. Thank you for the encouragement. And who are you, emotional rude lady?”
“None of your business! And don’t call me emotional! Or lady!”
“You got it, ma’am.”
“I am twenty-two years old, sucka. Screw the ma’ams.”
“Do you call people sucka a lot?”
“Do you stand around being useless a lot?”
“Whoa. Guess I’ll be going then.”
“No, wait! I’m stuck!”
“I’m picking up on that, yeah. It’s just that usually when someone needs help, they are way nicer to their potential rescuer than you’re being to me right now.”
“Uh, you are not my rescuer. I do not need a rescuer.”
“Okay, cool. See ya!”
“Stop! Please!”
“There’s that magic word. Sure. What can I do for you?”
“How about get you me out of here?”
“Did you press the emergency call button?”
“No. I just stood here and used my powers of manifestation to summon your snarky self to this spot.”
“Well then, mission accomplished.”
