Ch. 3-Guy Talk

Author's Note: Sorry for such a long delay between updates, but work has really been a major strain on my free-time budget AND my creativity for the past several months! I can't promise when updates will appear, only that they WILL, and that I have no intentions of abandoning this fic. Oh, if anyone is wondering where I got the idea of Wilt having to wear reading glasses, it came from the episode, "Foster's Goes To Europe", in which it was revealed that he does, indeed, need glasses to read(the left lens is busted, by the way), AND that he has allergy-related asthma, poor guy. - PBL.

Friday night, thought Wilt as he returned to his room after a long, relaxing shower. He didn't know exactly why the thought had popped into his head, specifically, since it wasn't as if Friday nights had any particular meaning for him any longer. Years ago, maybe…oh, well. He'd checked the tv listings earlier-nothing worth watching on the tube, as good an excuse as any to find time to catch up on some reading. Entering his room that he shared with three others, Wilt was somewhat surprised-rather pleasantly so-that it was empty, though where the other three were or what they were up to was unknown. All the better for reading, actually. Picking up a paperback crime novel from a shelf, Wilt plopped down on Bloo's bunk, the lower one-the one that USED to be Wilt's, before Bloo moved in, and began unlacing his sneakers with his one hand. Finally able to kick off his shoes, he leaned back, the book propped up on an upraised knee, wondering how long it would be before one, or all, of his roommates showed up and interrupted his quiet reading time.

Not that Wilt minded having three roommates…much. Sometimes, though, he found that he really was becoming more and more appreciative of those rare moments to himself, when he could do things like read a novel, without being disturbed. However, as was happening more and more often these days, it wasn't his roommates, or Mr. Herriman making some demand of him, or someone asking for some sort of assistance with something, as it was the effects of time, that interrupted his reading. Try as he might, Wilt was finding it more and more difficult to focus on the small print in the book unless he moved it almost completely at arm's length away, which proved rather awkward and uncomfortable. Sighing, he was forced to do something that he'd been putting off doing-getting up and retrieving his reading glasses from a drawer in the room. He had KNOWN that he would have to put those wretched things on, yet some part of him still stubbornly denied the need until the garbled print in the novel proved its point: you ain't as good as you once was, 'cuz. Settling back down on the bed, those odd-looking glasses propped across his eyestalks, Wilt once more opened the paperback to the page, finally able to make some sense of what had before looked more like heiroglyphics than English. After about two minutes, he decided that it was TOO quiet in the room, and reached over to the bedside table next to him and switched on the boom box, tuning it to his favorite "Old School" R&B station…yeah, "Old School"…just like me, he thought randomly as he returned to his reading. As if to refute his thoughts, the first thing he heard on the radio was a used car commercial:

"MEN, are YOU suffering from MMLCS-Male Mid-Life Crisis Syndrome? Does that old clunker you drive to work every day, to your hum-drum meaningless job, just make you feel THAT much older? Do you feel that women just don't APPRECIATE you like they used to? Well, Crazy Charlie has got a deal for YOU…"

Wilt couldn't help but to laugh out loud, at the coincidental juxtaposition of the car commercial and his own thoughts, placing the book page-down on the bed as he did so. Even as he did so, he heard the door creak open, and a familiar gruff voice ask, "Eh, what is so mucho funny, Senior Wilt?" Looking towards the door, Wilt saw two of his roomies, Eduardo and Bloo, entering the room, Eduardo first. Before he could respond, though, the pint-sized blue blob elbowed his way past his far-larger, and furrier, companion, barging into the room in typical Bloo fashion.

"You wanna know what's funny? Weeelllll…I'll tell you what's funny, Wilt old pal! You're lookin' at the new, all-time greatest 'Gorgazoids' cham-PEEN of the entire world…NO, the UN-I-VERSE! I even beat YOUR score, this time, buddy! Now, whatya say to THAT, Mr.-I-Used-To-Have-The-Highest-Score?"

"I think that's great, Bloo, but I've never played 'Gorgozoids', so there's no way you could have beaten MY score" Wilt replied matter-of-factly, as Eduardo scowled down at the little blue Imaginary Friend who'd so rudely pushed past him.

Bloo, however, was not taken aback, not in the least. In fact, if he'd actually heard Wilt's reply, he gave no indication of it. He carried on with his boasting, "THAAAT's right, accept your defeat with dignity. Soon, I'm gonna be on the cover of 'Gamer's Monthly', AND on 'VG-TV'! I'll be so famous, and so icy-chill, that I'm gonna have to beat the women off me with a stick!"

That last part really caused Wilt to chuckle, in spite of knowing that doing so was likely to spark a challenge from Bloo.

"You'll be lucky if the womens don't beat YOU with the stick!" offered Eduardo, whose patience with Bloo's constant bragging and self-glorification sometimes tended to wear a bit thin.

"Tsk, tsk…my DEAR Eduardo, you are obviously just JEALOUS because You are waaaay too im-ma-TURE to have any clue as to what women like, you poor, poor thing, you!" taunted Bloo, shaking what amounted to his head.

"I do so TOO know what womens LIKE, so THERE!" roared Eduardo right back, causing several small items on shelves in the room to rattle a bit.

"Oh, REALLY? Well, why don't you care to elucidate, then?" challenged Bloo.

Ed began to look a bit uncertain at the challenge. "Uhhmm…if I did that, Senior Herriman would make me clean it up!" Ed placed his two uppermost hooves together in a manner than suggested he really wanted to find a way out of this little debate.

Bloo gave him a quizzical look. "Uh-HUH…Oh-KAY, Ed…I guess it's safe to say that you have NO FREAKIN' CLUE, then, as to what women actually want. As for MOI, though…"

Eduardo interrupted, having suddenly, apparently been hit with a major brainstorm of epic proportions. "I KNOW! I KNOW what it is that womens want…is POTATOES! I am mucho smart, no?"

"POTATOES!"

"Si. Potatoes." Eduardo looked very pleased with himself, as if he'd just discovered the secret to world peace hidden inside a box of crackers.

Bloo stood for a moment, his mouth open in disbelief, before offering his counterpoint to THAT assertion.

"Po-TA-toes, you say…nah-ah, let me FINISH…THAT has GOT to be the all-time STY-OOOpid-est thing I have ever heard you say, Ed, and THAT'S sayin' a LOT! Let me clue you in on what women really want, and it AIN'T no stinkin' potatoes! Women want a guy who's large and IN CHARGE, know what I mean? They want somebody who's not afraid to tell 'em what to do, somebody who's not afraid to hang out late at night with the guys, a guy who's good at…good at, PADDLE BALL and video games and stuff…who can…who can, uhh…" Bloo's claims were interrupted, quite rudely, he thought, by the sound of laughter coming from the direction of his bed.

Shaking his head, Wilt decided it was time to put a stop to this debate, before he was forced to laugh any harder and ended up pulling a muscle in his side or something. "Where DO you two get your ideas about women, anyways? Women don't want somebody to 'tell 'em what to do', Bloo, and I honestly don't think that many of 'em are especially attracted to a guy on account of a paddleball, either! And they DEFINITELY don't want potatoes, Ed, unless they're being served at a fancy restaurant on a date!"

"Ooooh, I like dates!" Ed interjected. "They are so sweet and juicy…but not as much as I like potatoes, though!"

This provoked another chuckle from Wilt. This, he mused, was one of the reasons he liked Eduardo so much, and felt so protective of him; the guy was just like a young child, innocent and vice-free.

Wilt continued, "No, Ed, I don't mean THAT kinda date. The kind I'm talkin' about is like when a man and a women go out together, you know, to like restaurants and movies and basketball games and stuff, to get to know each other better. That way, they can find out if they really like each other and if they're compatible, so that if they decide they want a more serious relationship, they'll know more about each others' likes and dislikes. Dates are supposed to be fun. AND," he continued, "women don't' like guys who tell 'em what to do. What women REALLY want is respect from a guy, and being spoiled maybe just a little…you know, takin' 'em out to romantic movies, candlelight dinners, flowers at work, the right kinda music at the right time…that sorta thing" Wilt added, with what appeared to be rather like a vaguely nostalgic look on his scarred face.

There was a moment of very profound silence following Wilt's final statement.

"And you know this HOW?" Bloo shattered that silence.

Wilt started to answer, but that little voice in the back of his mind, the one that had kept reminding him just a few minutes earlier that he wasn't getting any younger and therefore the ridiculous reading glasses were a necessity, NOW cleared its throat and warned him that perhaps this was a topic best left alone.

"…." Was as far as he got.

Bloo waited for an answer, and failing to receive one, launched his inquiry again. "Once more, I ask…AND you know this HOW?"

Wilt realized, little voice or no little voice, that he'd probably already let one cat too many out of the bag, and once out, it wasn't going to go back in without somebody getting scratched up and bitten really badly, so the best course of action was just to let it go, and run right along with it. He knew now, that he might as well concentrate on making sure that none of its brethren got out.

"Uhm, well, Bloo…I know this because…because…I…uh..actually have, uhhhm…known a coupla women, you know, back in the day."

By now, Wilt could see that he had the undivided attention of both Bloo AND Eduardo, who were both now staring at him with what seemed to be a mixture of fascination and disbelief. He hoped that he hadn't said way too much already, and could sense yet another proverbial cat clawing its way out of that proverbial sack.

Bloo cleared his throat. "When you say, 'women', do you mean as in HUMAN women, or exactly what?" Eduardo arched a massive eyebrow, as though to reiterate Bloo's question.

"Well, yeah, Bloo…I mean, what other kinds of women ARE there? I mean…"

"Wait, wait, wait…now, LET me get this straight…" Bloo cut in, "You're telling ME that YOU, Wilt…have actually, as you put it, quote-end-quote, 'KNOWN a couple women', as in, like, been out on dates with 'em and stuff, like those people on 'The Loved and The Loveless', is THAT what you're trying to say here?"

The little voice in Wilt's head was practically screaming at him now to SHUT UP…fake a heart attack, pretend to suddenly go deaf, ANYTHING…but he did his best to ignore it, bagged-up felines and all, and tried to answer, if for no other reason than hoping it might finally shut Bloo up.

"Welllll….yeah, Bloo, now that you put it that way…yeah. I guess I have."

This was followed by yet another round of profound silence, broken finally by Bloo's hysterical fit of laughter.

"Now THAT is the funniest thing I have EVER heard! You expect ME, Blooregard Q. Kazoo, to actually believe that YOU, with that…that ARM like that, and that, how did you put it, 'WONKY' eye, have actually been out on DATES? With HUMAN women? Oh, I swear, Wilt, you are just the funniest, THE funniest, I tell ya!"

Wilt frowned at the reference to his, uhm, losses, as Eduardo sprang to his defence. "Well, Mr. Smarty-Aleck, if Senior Wilt says he is been out with ONE HUNDRED human womens, then he is been out with one hundred human womens, so THERE!" Ed stuck out his tongue at Bloo to emphasize his point.

Oh, well, so much for a quiet evening of reading, thought Wilt. Looks like this is gonna be a long night…