“Now that’s the Sparkle I know and love,” said I, getting up to get him his much needed coffee.
“Bless you,” he moaned, soon adding, “Good morning to you, too, Stryker.” He was talking to Sharon, and, no, he wasn’t referring to that gay icon, Jeff, of the large endowments Jeff. He called her Stryker because it was a combination of straight and dyke. (Befitting if not original, I thought, for a bisexual woman.) Sharon also enjoyed the name and referred to Sparkle, on occasion, as Cheat. Which is a combination of cheap and slut. (Also befitting.)
“Here ya go, Sweetie. A nice, big cup of joe for the newly freed.”
Sparkle eagerly grabbed the cup and took a swig. “To Freedom,” he toasted, and we joined in, all our mugs held up high.
But our freedom was short-lived, for just as soon as our c
