That’s a great take on this intro. Thanks a lot, Kate McClelland, for participating.
The bottle was almost empty. Just another sip. He cleaned his mouth with his sleeve. The house was still dark. He was cold. She would be home soon. And then he would show her. He would teach her a lesson. Nobody was allowed to treat him like this. He would show her! How dare she left him. For that guy! He took another sip. The bottle was empty. Maybe he would use the bottle. She had to suffer. He would take his time. Suddenly a car was pulling up. A smile on his face he pressed his body closer to the wall, hiding in the dark.
She entered the house and turned on the hall light. He lunged forward, throwing the now empty bottle and all caution to the side. The bottle smashed as it hit the side of the portcullis – ‘I haven’t even got the door shut yet Hank’ she said through gritted teeth.
‘Why HIM!??’ Hank screamed, his hair wild and his shirt dishevelled – couldn’t even describe the state of his pants. He’d been sleeping in his car the last few days. He smelled ripe.
She threw her bag down on the coffee table and made for the kitchen. ‘Great’ she thought, ‘He’s finished my only bottle of Vodka – Kudos jerk’.
He followed her still shouting. ‘Why?? Why him of all people? It’s breaking my heart!’
‘Sorry Hank if you’re looking for sympathy, the bar’s closed. Why don’t you go back to your blonde yoga teacher friend if you need a shoulder to cry on.’
‘You heartless wench! What will I do now? I’ll never be able to look at my collection again. You’ve ruined it for me’ he said desolation spreading over him like a cold sponge bath.
‘Why don’t you sell it, maybe buy yourself a clean shirt and a motel shower for the night’ she replied.
‘I never knew you’ said Hank as he slumped away towards the door. ‘ Thirty years I’ve built up that collection of Stan Lee memorabilia – even had a tattoo of his autograph on my chest and you leave me for him! Just tell me, why?’ asked Hank desperately.
‘We just sorta clicked’ said Mary Jane