Undead STDs
1994
'I heard you last night; grunting and moaning,' Moira handed Constance a mug of coffee with a look of disgust smudged across her face. Constance glanced up from the newspaper.
'Hmm?'
'It was foul. Do you have any idea how that made me feel?' Moira sunk into a chair wringing her hands in her apron, hanging her head.
'I didn't want to do it, for Christ's sake. It's part of the plan, you know that.' She returned to the newspaper, sipping her coffee.
'The plan,' Moira scoffed. 'What plan? It's going nowhere. For six months I've had to listen to you perfect every minute detail of this supposed plan, but you're not actually doing anything to initiate it,' the redhead heaved.
'The first step of the plan is getting him to propose, you stupid woman. How am I supposed to do that if I don't sleep with him?' Constance berated, scrunching up the newspaper in her fist.
'I hope you're wearing protection,' the maid snapped.
'To protect you from all those undead STDs that're going around?' Constance snorted. 'If anything I'm diseasing Larry with all the filth you picked up before I shot you in the head. Forget our plan of murdering him; we'll both be dead in no time thanks to your polluted cootch,' she mumbled at the newspaper, taking another sip of her coffee.
'You could at least act like you care,' Moira sighed, as she started folding piles of laundry.
'Care about what, exactly?'
'About us, about what we're doing this for. You don't even seem interested anymore.'
'Christ, are you crying about this again? What do you want me to do, Moira? Huh? I can't help that you're jealous,' Constance shouted, pointing a finger as she stood. 'This was your plan; you knew I was going to have to sleep with him. We discussed it at length and you swore you wouldn't do this. For Christ's sake, how is a ghost so goddamn clingy?' She turned to leave the room, her coffee shaking slightly in her hand. Moira cried gently into the clean laundry.