Wednesday, February 9, 2011

The Jack and Jill Chronicles (Headache? I'll give you a headache)

Jack and Jill
went up the hill
to fetch a pail of water

Jill had just turned eighteen and was simply brimming with pent up hormonal stuff. She watched intently as Jack’s square hips swayed side to side while he lugged the heavy pail up Horner’s Hill, his daddy’s own piece of God’s country. She caught her breath at the sight of his biceps bulging as he switched the bucket from one hand to another, and when they’d reached the top of the rise she could stand it no longer. She pushed Jack backward into the apple tree that stood watch over Hilltown and said to him in as sultry a tone as she could wrangle…

“I gotta have your hot steamy sex right now Jack, don’t make me wait a minute longer or I’ll have to kill myself. Kiss me, kiss me right this minute you hunk of pail carryin man!”

But Jack pulled away, shyly.

“Gosh sakes Jill, you know I can’t do that” he sputtered. “Why, you of all people know that I’ve taken the pledge!”

“What pledge is that my love” Jill said as she again tried to co-mingle their two bodies into one.

“Why” (it annoyed Jill that Jack started most of his sentences with the word ‘why’, but at that moment she was so worked up she let even that pass) “Why the Jonas Brothers pledge dearest! You know, the purity pledge!”

“Oh screw the Jonas Brothers Jack, just do it! Do it now!!!”

“Why Jill” he answered, “I just can’t. The Jonas Brothers are the best role models in all the world and if they say they’re saving themselves for marriage, then I should do the same!”

Fuckity fuck fuck fuck” screamed Jill, knowing that Jack’s mind was made up and that she’d need to go without, at least for the hour that it’d take to collect the water and drop it off at the Horner house when she then could run through town and find the first real man she could see and drag him into the bushes.

Then she did what any Hilltop High School gymnastics champion might do if overwhelmed by a nearly quarter century of building sexual tension… she began to practice her floor exercise in preparation for the big meet on Saturday.

“Get the water your own damn self” she said as she completed a twirling cartwheel and somersault combination. But then as Jack filled the bucket and walked back toward the crest for the journey downward, she thought to one last time try and convince him of his error.

“Look Jack” she shouted, “your favorite routine!” Jill ran three steps and then began to flip forward and back, dancing and doing the splits, showing her perky breasts and thick athletic legs to their best advantage. But Jack was having none of it. He turned away, in spite of his tongue’s sudden swelling and the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. A promise was a promise, and he would be pure no matter what. He turned away and faced toward the parking lot far below.

As Jill attempted her final move, a triple back flip with two and a half twists, she knew she would come quite close to her soon to be ex lover’s head, and while she knew what might happen if she didn’t reign herself in, she completed the maneuver with a swift kick to the jerk’s back, sending him sprawling down the hill and off the retaining wall that separated the nice soft grass from the hard as steel tar. Jill, oblivious to the damage she’d caused, continued down the hill doing cartwheels and pirouettes, or as the newspaper might have put it in the headline the next day…

Jack falls down, Breaks Crown! Jill Tumbles After!

But of course the paper never did print that header, because Jack suffered a great deal of neurological damage in the fall once he’d cracked his head open on the tarmac, and there he lost both his ability to speak, and his penmanship, so he could never tell the truth; that Jill had, in an abandoned rage, tried to kill him for not breaking his word to the Jonas Brothers.

Jill ended up marrying Billy Crackhead, the first real man she’d run into after Jack had been carted off to the hospital. He’d made no such promise. He was as pure as soot.