"Miss? Miss? Are you OK?"
2-5-3-6, 2-5-3-6...
"Miss! I need you to sit up for me!"
2-5-3-6...
"OK, I'm going to check her vitals."
Pretty Wife struggles to open her eyes. She feels a blood pressure cuff tightening around her now-bare arm. "Wha... Where..."
"She's coming to!! It's OK, Miss, just sit tight. We're here to help."
Pretty Wife realizes that she is lying in the street in the front of her home (which is neatly positioned within a lovely development). Chief EMT is kneeled over her, shining a light into her eyes, allegedly checking the dilation of her pupils. The smell of deep-fried fish and onion rings is fresh on his breath. Pretty Wife struggles against him.
"I'm going to need you to sit still, ma'am," he breathes.
Pretty Wife makes every attempt to respirate through her mouth while stuttering, "I'm OK, I'm OK. Just give me a minute." She sits up, puts her head between her knees, and tries to remember exactly what is going on. OK, Dan the Dry... He was just here... He was telling me....
"Dan the Dry! Where is he?" Pretty Wife asks Chief EMT.
"He's on his way to Our Lady of Mercy, ma'am. He's still unconscious, and he's lost a lot of blood. But he's in good hands. Don't you worry 'bout him, we need to make sure you're OK."
"I'm fine." Pretty Wife stands up, only too late realizing that her shirt had been removed. She threw her arms around her unusually robust, buxom bosom and asked, "My shirt?"
"We had to rid you of that, ma'am. Had to make sure your vitals were OK, and that your breathing wasn't restricted."
As if Pretty Wife hadn't heard THAT line before. She grabbed her shirt and jacket and began to redress. Just as she was zipping her Versace, mink-lined all-Italian leather coat, Rebecca from Phil's Diner came sprinting up to her. With all the commotion, she had completely forgotten that Rebecca was on her way for a strategy session.
"P.W.! Are you OK? What the H-E-Double Hockeysticks happened here?" Rebecca wasn't known for her charm, nor her manners.
"Oh, Rebecca, thank heavens you're here! You won't believe what just happened. Dan the Dry. He's been hit by an American-made blue Buick, which in turn simply drove away and left him here to die!"
"Mother freaker."
"I know. He's been taken to Our Lady of Mercy, and he's unconscious. Rebecca, he was in the middle of telling me something. Something that sounded important. Something about.... Stranger."
"Holy excrement."
"This makes everything seem so... Suspicious. I'm going to need you now more than ever. I'm going to the hospital--if Dan the Dry awakes from his coma-like state anytime soon, I want to be there. Every moment counts, and his next words could be his last. Coming with?"
"You bet your donkey."
Pretty Wife handed Junior (who had made it through the entire ordeal remarkably unscathed) over to Old Neighbor, and she and Rebecca climbed into her sensible vehicle and drove away from the scene of the accident. As they headed towards Our Lady of Mercy, a plan began to unfold....
.
...to be continued...
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Disclaimer: This fiction is intended as parody only; the characters, plot, etc., are the intellectual property of its authors. This story is not in any way affiliated with the Lifetime Channel, Lifetime Television, or the Lifetime Original Movie franchise.
by: Neftzer and friends (AAB, TRVMB, JMG, KLS) (c)2003
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