@ @
@ 4 @
@ @
@
*********
Round One
*********
The lights came back on.
"Welcome back. For those of you just joining us, I'm Bob Eubanks, and this is the New New Newlywed Game. The wives have been secluded offstage, and we're going to ask their husbands a few questions. Their job is to correctly predict how their wives will respond to the same question. Matt, lets start with you."
"Well. Isn't this fun." Buffy looked around the 'soundproof booth' into which she and the other three wives had been herded.
The plump brunette beamed. "Oh, yes. I'm just having the time! This has all been so great!" The other two nodded aggreement.
"And the hotel's just beautiful," the truck-lover added. More nods.
Uh oh. They're bonding. Without me. "Yeah!" Buffy blurted. "That hotel; it's just gorgeous. And the spa..!"
Truck-lover groaned. "I had the most amazing massage."
Buffy tried not to look too pathetic. "Really?"
The brunette that forgot her wedding dress waved her hands in front of her. "And I got a manicure! She rubbed in all these oils; makes me wish I had time to go to the salon more often!"
Truck-lover turned to her curiously. "Do you work?"
"No, but it just seems like there's always something that needs doing around the house. You know how it is: cleaning, laundry, cooking... Do you do much cooking at home?"
"Yeah, yeah. I know my husband would like me to cook more,,, but I manage to bake about three times a week."
The conversation rapidly deteriorated into bizarre mom-talk that left Buffy wide-eyed in fear. My God. Someday this will be me. I too will know the difference between broiling and steaming. She realized that the redheaded hiker hadn't joined in the conversation. She sidled over, edging around the two chefs.
"So! Having fun?"
The redhead turned to her and regarded her for a moment. "Yes. Lots. This is very enjoyable." She blinked a bit. "Do you cook?" she asked, almost like she cared.
Buffy gigged. "Me? No. Way no. The last time I tried to make cookies, my mo--uh, husband had to greet the fire department at the door."
Redhead nodded. "That's nice. Your husband is a very attractive man. Congratulations on successfully binding him to your bed."
Off Buffy's stunned look, she added, "Metaphorically, of course. Unless you're into that kind of thing."
Buffy stared. My God, it's Anya. Surely there can't be two of them in the world.
"Uh, thank you?" She cast about for something to say. "..You too."
The redhead shrugged. "He is adequet."
Buffy stared some more. Wiggy.
This was followed by several minutes of silence in their corner of the room, while across from them the conversation shifted from interior decorating on a low budget to quitting jobs for their husbands and married lives.
Eventually, the awkwardness of the lull seemed to sink in to the redhead. She turned to Buffy. "Do you work?"
The Slayer jumped. "Me? I, yeah. I'm a..." she cast about, "I'm a florist." She smiled, somehow liking the sound of that. "Yeah, I make flower art."
Redhead nodded gravely. "Very commendable."
"What do you do?"
"I exterminate."
"Exterminate? Like, bugs?"
There was a pause, where the redhead seemed to be seriously debating her answer. "Metaphorically speaking," she finally replied.
Before buffy could decide whether it would be wise to quiz her, they were interrupted.
"What about you two?"
Buffy and Redhead both looked up.
"Huh?"
Truck-lover grinned. "Do your husbands ever sleep nude," she repeated, eyes dancing.
Beside her, Polyester giggled, then waited expectantly.
Buffy's eyes went wide, remembering. --
"You're lucky you're getting that."--
Polyester nudged Truck-lover. "Look, you made her blush."
Truck-lover smirked, sending Buffy a sudden image of Faith. "Please," she scoffed. "Young couple like them? They probably go at it every night anyway."
Redhead turned to her, apparently intrigued. "Well?"
Buffy edged away. "Well what?"
"How often do you and your husband have sex?" Brunette Polyester clarified. Perhaps sensing Buffy's discomfort, she added: "From one wife to another, of course."
Buffy looked around, and realized everyone was genuinely waiting for a reply, all comradery and girl talk.
"Uh..."
The door opened. A balding guy with a headset poked in. "The guys are done. You ladies ready to go back out?"
Buffy jumped up. "And rarin'. Let's hit the hallway. Burn heel."
*********
[Insert tires here.]
*********
I know the chapter's short. = (
I'm trying to make them correspond with the actual commercial breaks. And just so you're warned ahead of time, all game questions are genuine; carefully stolen from the reruns. You'd be amazed what you can hear, watching straight hours of Tivo'd episodes.
....Not that I do that. I have a life, after all!
...*Ahem*...
~Star Mouse