Happy Holidays!
By Shotzette
NC-17
Holiday Challenge 2005
This is only a work of fan fiction. It is not meant to infringe upon anyone’s copyrights or intellectual properties.
“I can’t believe it!” Lenny Kosnowski hollered angrily as he barreled through the front door of his apartment.
“You can’t believe it?” echoed Squiggy, “You’re used to disappointment! I—I am bereft with grief, Len.”
“I know,” the large man said, as he patted his friend on the shoulder.
“I thought tonight, New Years Eve 1965, would be the night that a Miss Shirley Willhemini Feeney would come to her senses,” Squiggy bellowed melodramatically.
Lenny shrugged. “Or at least come?”
Squiggy snorted. “Whatever, like I care. I just thought that—was I wrong, Len? Did I misread the signs?”
“Nope. I was reading right there along with you.”
Squiggy shook his head dismissively, “Yeah, but you had to take remedial reading.”
“Don’t bring that up,” Lenny whined.
“Don’t whine… Where was I?”
“You was thinking…”
“Oh, yeah. I thought that this was the night, the night of all nights, when Shirley would finally—in a moment of great tenderness, mind you—fully give herself to me in a naked and sweating sort of way.”
“The signs were all there.”
“I know, Len. That’s the baffling part. Did they not actually invite us over?”
Lenny nodded. “They did!”
“For a special evening?”
“Those were their exact words.”
“Why did they plan an evening of forbidden desires with us fully knowing that they was having a New Years Eve party the same night? Can they be that stupid?”
Lenny shook his head in dismay. “I’m still figuring out why Laverne’s Pop and Mrs. Babish was there, I mean, ick! I don’t know if I’m ready for this new morality, Sqig.”
“Me neither, but a complimentary orgy would have just been polite…”
“You didn’t say anything to make anybody mad, did you?”
“You big dummy! You’re the one with social problems, not me. Did I not walk in and politely compliment their décor?”
“You did.”
“Did I not stare appreciatively at the bountiful display displayed by one Rhonda Lee?”
“You did in spades.”
“Did I not try to help Laverne when she dropped the napkins and had to bend over in that oh-so-short-skirt? I was the first one to stick out my hand in assistance.”
“Yeah,” Lenny affirmed, “I don’t think Sonny appreciated that much.”
“Who cares about him? The moron jumps off buildings for a living, sheesh!”
“All in all, we was perfect gentlemen right up to the stroke of midnight.”
“Yeah, I remember that part. Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one—nothing!”
“I remember the nothing well.”
“Of course you do, idiot. It was 10 minutes ago. Dick Clark’s ball finally dropped, we all said “Happy New Year!” and then…”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing. Shirley kissed Carmine, Laverne kissed Sonny, Mr. DeFazio kissed Mrs. Babbish, Rhonda locked herself in the bathroom and wouldn’t come out…”
“But those little pigs in the blanket snacks were delicious. I’d think they’d be better with Bosco, though,” Lenny said.
Squiggy shot him a look as he continued his rant, “And we was unkissable.”
“Well…”
“Thanks, but no, Len. You got that cold sore thing happening again.” He said, shuddering.
“It was just like every other New Year’s Eve party we’ve ever been to,” Lenny finished glumly, as he plopped down on their battered sofa.
“Yeah,” Squiggy agreed, “Both of them.”
Lenny reached for the box of Kleenex on the piece of plywood on two cement blocks that posed as their coffee table, taking a handful for himself, and then passing the box to Squiggy. “I’m just—just—what’s the word I’m looking for, Squig?”
Squiggy yanked out a handful of tissues, and threw the box back on the table before unzipping his fly. “I don’t know. Who died and made me the dictionary?”
Lenny hefted the boner he’d been sporting for the last half hour out of his pants. “Disappointed. That’s the word. I’m disappointed. Here we are in Hollywood, the land of opportunity…”
Squiggy scooted closer to his friend on the couch as he liberated himself from his trousers. He reached over and started to pump Lenny’s shaft, and let out a low groan as his friend reciprocated. “Yeah! The veritable Sodom and Menorah of the west coast, and what are we doing?
Lenny stopped moving for barely a moment, “I don’t like to think about it…Oh, yeah…”
Squiggy grunted in response, “Yeah, like I’d go around bragging about this to anyone else. Mmph…Not so tight.”
“Sorry,” Lenny apologized, “I thought I was supposed to be Shirley. By the way, you could grab it a little harder. I don’t like what you’re implying about Laverne… Mmm…”
“Yes…” Squiggy groaned, as he rocked his pelvis rhythmically against the friction of Lenny’s hand. “ Len, now’s hardly the time to ask me to be a gentleman. Harder…”
“I, uh, I—Oh! I wish your hand was really Laverne!” Lenny arched back against the couch as his release overtook him, clutching Squiggy even tighter.
“Ohh! I wish you didn’t have that cold sore!” the smaller man yelped as he came into his friend’s hand.
Lenny’s eyes flew open in shock. “Huh?”
Squiggy looked around nervously. “Nothing. I didn’t say nothing. Hand me the Kleenex.”
Lenny was offering his friend the box, when he heard sounds of laughter drifting up from their stairwell. “Sounds like their party is breaking up early”. He smirked, “It don’t sound like anyone had too much fun.”
Squiggy swatted Lenny’s chest with the back of his hand, causing the larger man to flinch. “Stupid! This is Laverne and Shirley! Shirley might be saying no to Carmine, but you know that there’s no way that Laverne’s going to be able to do anything with Sonny with Shirley around. Carmine and Sonny’s night is as much of a wash out as ours,” he gloated, sitting back on the couch and stretching.
Lenny’s look was one of confusion. “Gee. What do you think they’re going to do?”
“Idiot! The same thing we just did, but much fruitier,” Squiggy laughed.
Lenny cocked his head to the side for a moment. “So what are Laverne and Shirley going to do?”
Squiggy’s eyes widened. “That my friend,” he said as he reached for a Kleenex, “could take us through this whole box…”
Happy New Year!!