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The Sweet By and By

Posted by MDViews on January 4, 2015

Following is a tongue-in-cheek story of, well, you’ll see if you read it. It’s not exactly a Christian story and has in it dishonesty, theft, lying and mention of some bodily fluids. I thought it was a fun story to write, however, so I hope you get a smile.


The Sweet By and By

A drop of grease fell from Bill’s chin on to the paper plate. “Who’s the deceased again?”

“Who cares?” Naomi nudged him in the side. “Is there another wing in that bucket?”

He tipped the bucket and checked. “Yeah, but it’s not extra crispy.”

Her eyes perused the Fellowship Hall at Bethany Baptist Church. “See two tables over?” She gestured with her head. “They can’t be eating much. They all have gray hair and lousy teeth. Go switch buckets with them.”

“Good idea.” He grabbed their nearly empty bucket, placed the lid on it and walked over. “How’s your chicken, folks, good?”

A woman wearing three large diamond rings frowned and spoke. “It’s so greasy. I wish they served gluten-free, organic salads.”

That’s a first world problem if ever I heard of one.

“Well, here’s a bucket if anyone is interested, and hey, I’ll check about that salad, folks.” With that he put his nearly empty bucket on the table, took their mostly full bucket, walked to the kitchen, turned around and went back to his table. “Here it is. We’re back in the chicken. Extra crispy, too.”

“Have you seen the desserts?” She pointed to a man carrying a bowl of vanilla ice cream drenched in homemade hot fudge sauce.

“Ice cream? Hot fudge? We better get some before it’s gone.”

Two minutes later, they sat back at their table with ice cream and hot fudge spilling over the sides of their bowls.

He savored each bite. “Anybody ask you how you knew the deceased?”

“One woman asked.”

“What’d you tell her?”

She sniggered. “The usual. I teared up, sobbed and said I missed him so much. Then I hugged her and whispered, ‘And the sex—to die for.’ My nose ran on her shoulder. When I pulled back, I snuffled, coughed up a ball of…well, you know, and held it in my mouth while I searched for a wastebasket.”

He hooted. “You’re kidding me! Did it work?”

“Like a charm. After I spit, I said, ‘Whew! I thought I’d have to eat that one.’ The poor soul turned ashen white, put her hand to her mouth, coughed and ran to the women’s rest room.” Naomi took another bite of ice cream. “She didn’t make it though. I went in later and almost slipped on the, um, stomach contents.” She glanced at the front food table. “They just put out some cookies. Anyone ask you?”

“Just a minute.” He rose from his chair, walked to the front and came back with a plate full of cookies. “Yeah, a couple guys did.” He stuffed half a cookie in his mouth. “I told them I met him at a bowling tournament in Oklahoma City.”

“A bowling tournament?” She took a cookie from the pile and nibbled at it. “In Oklahoma City?” She smirked.

“Yeah, then I said, ‘He so loved bowling. Bowling and beer.’ I hesitated and said, ‘And meeting guys, of course, but you knew that.’ Then I pulled out my cell phone, glanced at it, said, ‘Excuse me,’ and made a hasty retreat.”

“Ha. Did you see how they reacted?”

One dropped his plate and the other’s said, “Bowling? Beer? Guys?”

She grinned and leaned in. “They’ll be thinking about that for a while.”

He looked up. Chicken, chips, cookies and brownies graced the food table. “I’d love to take that food home.”

Her eyebrows pinched together. “There’s got to be a way.”

He glanced over. “You ever tried a diversion?”

“No, but I’m game.”

“Okay, I’ll fake a fall along the tables farthest from front door. You take your—” He looked down. “Is that a purse?” A red bag as big as a small suitcase sat beside her.

“Hey, it’s a purse.”

“Anyway, you sweep the food table and stroll out the front door. Get the car and have it running by the south exit. I’ll be out a couple minutes later and we’re off.”

He stood and glanced around the Fellowship Hall. A low din of conversation sounded from the 100 or more guests. “Wish me luck.” He walked to the side of the room away from the front door. She ambled to the front table gripping her red portmanteau. They locked eyes and she nodded.

With a loud “Whoooaaaa!” he slipped, kicked a folding chair forward so it crashed against the concrete wall, spun in the air and hit the floor on his hands. He rolled and moaned with gusto, “My back! My back!” Three men dashed to his side.

“Help me, oh, ow, help me!” He heard someone call 911. He rolled back and forth and increased his moans to screams. “Help me up, please.” They lifted him and held him up.

He stood hunched over, then shook off their hands. “Let go of me. This place is dangerous. My back, oh, my back.” He hobbled toward the south exit with one hand on his back, turned and pointed his finger. “You’ll hear from my attorney about this!” He pushed open the south door, let it close and slid into the passenger’s seat. The car sped away.

The red bag sat between them filled with cookies, brownies, chips and bucket of extra-crispy. “Spectacular work. Anyone notice?”

“How could they with your screams?” She laughed, and adjusted her rear view mirror. “No one following. I’ll drop you off at your place.”

She stopped in front of a white one and one half story house and turned off the car.

She turned toward him, the warmth in her voice palpable. “I have to tell you, Bill, that’s the best first date I’ve ever had. It’s so wonderful to have a friend who shares the same love.”

He smiled and touched her hand. “I feel the same way, Naomi. Next week?”

She beamed. “Sure. I wouldn’t miss it.”

“I’ll check the obits, and we can take my car.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Thanks for a wonderful evening.”

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