TITLE: Double Dumb Luck
CATEGORY: Does Comedic Character Death exist as a category? Well, dark comedy, anyway. D/R
SUMMARY: Sometimes things just don't turn out the way you want them to...or maybe they do... Okay, there is Character Death here and you may or may not find it funny, depending on your POV, which characters you like, and whether or not I've done my job. ;0)
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: Special thanks to Unbound and ChefLinda for inadvertantly inspiring me, and to the Chef for the title. I don't mean to hurt anyone's feelings or break anyone's heart and it's not a social commentary and has no deep meaning. I was just bored. ;0)
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, yada, yada, yada.
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Double Dumb Luck
It was a dark and stormy night.
John Doggett drove down the narrow highway in his GMC King Cab pickup, scowling through the rainswept windshield, the truck's wipers flailing madly in a vain attempt to keep the glass clear. He was determined to reach his destination, for the one he loved waited there for him.
Monica Reyes hummed her favorite whale song as she practically floated from room to room, lighting candles and incense as she prepared a special atmosphere. Tonight was the night, she was sure of it. She adjusted one strap on her camisole so that it hung on her shoulder just at the verge of falling down her arm. John would be so pleased.
Doggett never saw the deep puddle that covered the road just beyond the tight curve. His tires began to hydroplane and the truck veered sickeningly. He felt the right side lift off of the road surface and had just enough time to form one thought.
The truck continued to tilt to the left even as it turned a full 360 degrees, finally going all the way over and tumbling down the embankment, crushing the cab.
There were no witnesses to report the accident.Monica felt a chill go down her spine and her skin erupted in goosebumps.
"John!" She just knew something terrible had happened. She could feel it. "NO!" she wailed, running to fling the door open, hoping in vain that it was her imagination and that she'd see her lover's manly pickup pulling up to her door.
Little did she know that the breeze from the open doorway would blow the lacy curtains on the front window up over the table beside the sofa, where three fat triple-wicked pillar candles were burning. The room was suddenly lit by the wild light of the flames that raced up the antique lace. Large chunks of burning lace fell on the carpet and the sofa, igniting them as well.
Monica raced back toward the kitchen, looking for her fire extinguisher, but it was nowhere to be found. She remembered too late that it was in the laundry room downstairs--and the stairs were on the far side of the living room, where the doorframe was already alight. She tried to make it through the doorway, but she was overcome by the acrid smoke from the burning upholstery. She collapsed in the doorway just as the overhead beam fell, pinning her beneath it.
The house burned to the ground before the firefighters could arrive on the scene.
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If you love D&R and still read this story, well, I can't help you. At least now they have some closure. ;0)