A/N: I haven't really written a story about Maureen and Joanne yet, and I only had four stories, and I had nothing to do today so I wrote this. This is just the Epilogue so that's why it's so short. I am trying to make my chapters longer, and remember, reviews help keep the story going. In other words, I really only want to continue this if I get enough reviews. If I do, I promise, the story will get good.
"Maureen! We're going to be late!" screamed Joanne.
"Pookie, I'm coming!" yelled Maureen. The truth was Maureen was stalling. She had no desire to go to dinner at the Jefferson's. First of all, Mrs. Jefferson hated her. Mr. Jefferson wasn't so bad, he always asked her how she was, and how things were going with his daughter, and called the house a lot. But it was obvious that Joanne's mother hated Maureen. Second of all, they would be having ziti for dinner. Ziti with mashed potatoes and vegetables. All the foods she hated. I mean, who has a meal with ziti and mashed potatoes together? That was insane. She would rather be planning a new protest. A protest about how she thought lesbians should be accepted. That was another thing about Mrs. Jefferson. She didn't approve of lesbians. Well, in this case, Maureen was bi, but Mrs. Jefferson didn't have to know that. It would just make matters worse.
Maureen didn't really like Mrs. Jefferson either. She was always yelling at her about getting a real job, and wearing not so slutty clothes, and acting like a civilized human being.
'Whatever,' thought Maureen. 'I don't have to take her shit this time. I'll just tell Joanne I can't go. I have a really bad stomachache. Yea, that'll do it.'
"MAUREEN!" screamed Joanne.
"Honey bear, could you please come here for a sec?" asked Maureen in her sweetest voice.
Joanne walked furiously into the room. "What?" she snapped.
"Oh pookie. My tummy hurts. It feels like I'm gonna throw up. Ughhhh…" said Maureen innocently with the puppy face.
"Oh no, not this again Maureen. Every time we're invited to my parent's house, you always say you're sick in some way," said Joanne. "Stomach aches, back pains, head aches, you even said you had the chicken pocks and drew dots with red marker on your face. I've had enough. No more lying. You're going this time," said Joanne firmly.
"But honey bear," complained Maureen. "I'm not lying this time! My stomach really does hurt!"
"How can I believe you, if you never tell the truth?" asked Joanne.
"I do too tell the truth! My stomach hurts from thinking of enduring your mother's insults!" said Maureen. "Have you ever noticed the way she looks at me? It's creepy."
"I know my mother can be a little harsh sometimes, but it's all constructive criticism," said Joanne.
"Oh, like about me wearing slutty clothes?" asked Maureen sounding hurt.
"Yes, but you know Maureen," said Joanne. "I like your slutty clothes," she whispered seductively in Maureen's ear.
"Aw, really?" asked Maureen giggling. "Well, I guess I could go for this one dinner…"
"Great! You know I love you baby," said Joanne. "And maybe when we get back late tonight, we can have a little fun." Joanne kissed Maureen passionately on the lips.
"Sounds good to me," said Maureen.
Joanne left the room.
"Okay, first I gotta pick out an outfit," said Maureen aloud. She looked through dozens of drawers and closets and finally found a black belly shirt with the words 'Go get laid' on it, and a pair of jeans with a lot of rips in them. Maureen had decided she wouldn't be sweet little Maureen with pig tails and a lollipop in her hand, but rebel rocker Maureen, with just a touch of slut.