How the World Wronged Michael Holt
Arriving a little more early than usual to choir practice, I find myself ascending the brick steps outside the church building optimistically nonetheless. My car is the only one on this side of the parking lot, at least, but that doesn't mean someone might not have unlocked the door already.
Imbued with the powers of the Phoenix, I try the white wooden door. It is, in fact, unlocked. Expecting shriveled old Edmond the deacon to be waiting for me on the other side of the door, I find the sanctuary darkened except for the afternoon light streaming in through the stained glass windows. It is then that I notice her sitting in the choir loft...
The newest member of the church recently moved here from Texas, and although she has repeatedly denied it, we suspect she may be Jessica Simpson, dodging the media frenzy and fuss in the last place anyone would ever think to look - Virginia. She waves disarmingly from the loft; I adjust my tie uneasily and approach her.
"Hey! How're you doing, Michael? You got here early, too?" her chipper demeanor almost distracts me from how smoking hot of a babe she is.
"Oh, uh... yeah." Words fail me, as usual.
She pats the seat next to her with an innocent yet lusty smile. "Could you help me with this chorus we've been doing? I swear, I think I'm never gonna get it!" Well, any chance to sit next to this blonde angel is good enough for even a devil like me, so I sit. I purposely squint at the musical score, and she instinctively scootches closer.
"Oops, looks like my arm's in the way," you say, moving your closest arm to her behind her to the back of the choir pew. Her hair smells divinely... Victoria Secret's "Halo", if you're not mistaken. How ironic.
Really, though. This is going to go way too slowly and really give you a serious case of the blue balls whenever Miss Margaret finally interrupts you two to come in and sit at the piano!
What would someone with the powers of the Phoenix do?
Imbued with the powers of the Phoenix, I try the white wooden door. It is, in fact, unlocked. Expecting shriveled old Edmond the deacon to be waiting for me on the other side of the door, I find the sanctuary darkened except for the afternoon light streaming in through the stained glass windows. It is then that I notice her sitting in the choir loft...
The newest member of the church recently moved here from Texas, and although she has repeatedly denied it, we suspect she may be Jessica Simpson, dodging the media frenzy and fuss in the last place anyone would ever think to look - Virginia. She waves disarmingly from the loft; I adjust my tie uneasily and approach her.
"Hey! How're you doing, Michael? You got here early, too?" her chipper demeanor almost distracts me from how smoking hot of a babe she is.
"Oh, uh... yeah." Words fail me, as usual.
She pats the seat next to her with an innocent yet lusty smile. "Could you help me with this chorus we've been doing? I swear, I think I'm never gonna get it!" Well, any chance to sit next to this blonde angel is good enough for even a devil like me, so I sit. I purposely squint at the musical score, and she instinctively scootches closer.
"Oops, looks like my arm's in the way," you say, moving your closest arm to her behind her to the back of the choir pew. Her hair smells divinely... Victoria Secret's "Halo", if you're not mistaken. How ironic.
Really, though. This is going to go way too slowly and really give you a serious case of the blue balls whenever Miss Margaret finally interrupts you two to come in and sit at the piano!
What would someone with the powers of the Phoenix do?
Choose:
- ID: 59604
- Hits: 66
