Worlds of Ivan Drugostrov

“Nej! Snälla säg det inte! Det låter så klichéartat”, avbröt hon.

“Jag säger det så många gånger som krävs för att du ska förstå. Vi är…”

“Nej! Jag ber dig! Säg då hellre ingenting alls. Jag vill inte höra…”

Nu var det hans tur att avbryta, men han gjorde det inte med ord. Med en till synes omänskligt snabb handrörelse hade han förvänt hennes ansikte med en örfil. Med sina ögon nu slutna kände hon hur hennes kind rodnade. Svedan underordnades snabbt förtjusningen i att känna hans hand emot sin bara hud. Även om hans handlade hade tystat henne och gett honom möjlighet att fullfölja sin mening drogs även han in i den den nyvunna ljudlösheten. Han hade inte tagit ögonen ifrån henne, men kunde endock svära på att hela världen blivit en nyans gråare, och att träden börjat släppa sina löv än snabbare i samma ögonblick som hon mottagit hans våldsamma smekning. Skam och osäkerhet överväldigade honom, och i ett försök att avhjälpa sin tilltagande oro lade han handen om hennes huvud och slöt henne tätt intill sin famn. Hennes knutna små händer som tidigare hade bönfält honom öppnades som späda blommor i skenet av hans varma känslor och vilade platta mot hans bröst. Hennes läppar darrade, och började röra sig efter en evighet. Hon viskade, med tilltagande stämma, knappt hörbart, men han förstod precis.

“Du är min själsfrände… Den enda för mig… Den jag ämnats för… Jag har aldrig varit säkrare på något i hela mitt liv…”

Han lyfter blicken, utan att verkligen se vad som finns framför honom, för hans blick blir snabbt grumlig.

“Jag vet”, svarar han. “För jag känner likadant.”

Hon spärrar upp ögonen och trycker sig ifrån hans barm så att hon kan se hans ansikte.

“Men hur kan du då…”

“För att du vet lika väl som jag att det är omöjligt! Hur skulle det någonsin kunna fungera?”

“Jag bryr mig inte om vad andra säger, eller tycker, så länge vi har varandra!”

“Men begriper du inte? Vi kan aldrig få varandra. Det kan aldrig bli vi. För att vi är för olika. För vi är från olika världar, skilda som natt och dag; du är en kvinna… och jag är en man…”

 

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Autumn used to be my favorite season…

But this year, it was unseasonably warm, and a seasoned observer would surely have noted that the seasonal rains had still not been seen. The scene I had enjoyed last year, and the year before that, of the dripping and deserted seesaws beneath my window, was now seamlessly blended with the same one I had endure all summer: seething heat as the seeds and their seniors swung from swings whilst I peered seedily from my seat. I was tired of their boisterous screams and cacophony. Reft of my vista, my eyes seeled, I turned to my steamed dinner, and seasoned it with seedpods and other, seemingly more suitable seasonings. It was a sort of seafood serving and – surprisingly fitting – in that split second moment my eyes were drawn seawards by the calls of seabirds. Surely there, in front of the fathomless depths of the great seas, I would find the scenic view I sought.

Sure enough, the splashing sea water or crashing surfs mimicked the cold rains I felt so deprived of. Standing tall in the seaside seascape, amidst seals and other sea creatures, I could finally indulge my desire and have me a sombre séance in the shadow of the season; my autumn reverie.

Hi kiddos, my name is Craig and I’ll be your sex-ed teacher for this semester. I know you’ve heard that sex-ed is a bit debated, but I also know you’re full of questions about your body, and the opposite sex. Yeah, I know, I said ‘sex,’ ha ha, but seriously; you have to get past that so we can have a mature and dialogue on the subject. So, let’s get started, shall we? I’ll call your names and… well, you know the drill.

***

Right, that’s all, I think. Good to see such a great turn-up. Well, I know you’re eager to get started, and frankly; so am I – but don’t tell your parents I said that, geez, I could get fired – so without further ado, here are the basics:

The average penis, when erected – that is to say with a ‘boner’ – is about seven inches long. If your hard-on is any less, chances are the girls will laugh at you, if not to your face, behind your back. Also, should your erection point anywhere but dead ahead, like to the sides or even up and down, then there’s something wrong with you. I would recommend grabbing your penis firmly when erected and forcing it to a proper position, as many times as it takes, until it’s normal. You didn’t really think girls would sleep with a freak, did you? Also, oh God, if your testicles should be hanging at different heights, you really need to pull on the higher one and really stretch it out symmetrically. You can do this by hand, just spend a couple of minutes each day re-sculpting your genitals. Remember; if they don’t look like you want, it’s you own fault. 

Moving on to the girl. Hello, ladies. Feeling a bit insecure? I look around, and golly, I see a lot of reasons for that. Mainly, it has to do with your breasts, am I right? About their size and shape? Well, let me put you straight. Since you’re so young, don’t expect your breasts to be too large, but in a few years, they should have reached the size of footballs, unless, of course, there’s something you’ve done wrong. Try talking to them, like you would a plant. Also, make sure they get plenty of massages. Preferably from other people, but I understand if you’re a total outcast and have to sit at home, alone, and fondle your own tits. Let’s try it now, so you get it right. Would all the boys leave the room, please? This won’t take long… 

Right, now, pair up, and start rubbing each other’s breasts. You there, what’s your name? So you’re the odd one out, eh? Well, I guess you’ll be paired with me. That good, actually, so I can show you how it’s done. Now, don’t sissy out and start soft, you need to really shock the breast into growing, with some hard stimuli. Hurts, hun? That’s good! It’s like a workout. Do you ‘feel the burn?’ Now I notice that Sarah here has a slightly lopsided chest. That’s a bad thing. If your breasts are of different size, or droopy or flat in any way, you will disgust men and never land a husband. This is where this exercise comes in handy. Ha ha! ‘Handy…’ Now, by giving the lesser boob the greater stimuli, we should be able to correct this deficiency.

Oh crap! Are we out of time already? Well, next week we’ll talk about sex, so don’t be tardy. I know you find that stuff fascinating, even though you pretend not to. Tell the boys, alright? And keep rubbing those titties.

See you next week.

 

Booked the trip online. Saved $100! Woot!

 

Two weeks to our big trip. Can’t wait. 

 

LOL! Steven is even more exited! He’s too young to worry.

 

Getting our shots. Steven is sad. His arm hurt. 

 

Thinking of what to pack…

 

Dude! Susan’s list! ROFL!

 

All packed. Helping Steven. 

 

Susan packed more than Steven and me combined! ^_^

 

Can’t sleep. Exited. Warm milk my ass…

 

LMAO. Late night television is weird. 

 

Overslept! And the f-ing car won’t start! >:(

 

WTF?! Grid-locks! Traffic’s a bitch!

 

I swear to God, this stress will be the end of me!

 

Almost at the airport. Still late! Cross your fingers.

 

Dude! Custom’s a bitch TOO! This whole day’s a BITCH! >:(

 

Our flight was delayed! We made it! Thank GOD!

 

Hello sun and scorching heat! Have a nice winter… chumps!

 

Sleeping off the Jet-lag. 

 

Continental breakfast. Everywhere you go.

 

Awesome beach. Seriously! 

 

Lots of pretty girls. Wait… Susan doesn’t read my Twitter does she?

 

Steven is playing with other kids from all over the world. How about that!

 

Miniature golf in the warm night. Having a blast.

 

ROFL! Steven beat me, fair and square! 

 

Steven = future Tiger Woods? *Ker-ching!*

 

Continental breakfast. AGAIN.

 

Yeah, yeah. Beach is still awesome… -_-;

 

Thinking perhaps it’s time to go outside the tourist zone. See the real country.

 

Susan’s such a chicken. Steven is so on. Like always.

 

Going desert trekking. Hired a guide and shit. Seriously.

 

Camel-riding is hard, but Steven does it swimmingly. 

 

Hah! My boy surpasses me at everything it seems. I’m getting old

 

Susan complains about what the bumpy ride does to her ass. ^_^

 

Dude! I meant the camels! Sorry, in-laws! *^_^*

 

The mood has changed. I don’t like it.

 

Want to turn back. -_-

 

Told them to turn back, but not sure they did. Can’t get my bearings. Only sand.

 

I’m afraid. But won’t let Steven and Susan know. Susan suspects. >_>   <_<

 

OMG! OMG! OMG!

 

The guides left during the night. How the fuck did I miss that?! 

 

On our own…

 

Sand, sand, sand! FUCK!

 

Steven is gone! Something came and took him during the night. There’s some blood left, that’s all. GOD! MY ONLY SON!

 

Walking in the desert is harder than you’d think.

 

Conserving strength. Not much left.

 

Susan fell down a dune. Won’t get up. O_O

 

Susan isn’t breathing. Don’t know what killed her. ;_;

 

Completely lost. No water. No nothing. 

 

Haven’t had a drink for two days. Lost in the desert. Going to die. LOL

“We think germ warfare sounds so… harsh and negative. To curry public favor, we have, in close association with the PR and ad departments, come up with a more… friendly term, that we think you’ll agree is much appealing.”

Under his breath, the CEO sighed.

“Oh boy…”

The presentation continued none the less.

“No need to dread the terror of viral devastation, no sir; what we’re selling now is ‘Kootie Kombat!’ Oh, and that’s spelled with K’s, by the way, to make it more appealing to our younger demographic.”

“We don’t HAVE a younger demographic!”

“We do now! Check these focus group results out! Kids love it!”

The CEO lifted his glasses and rubbed his eyes, half in disbelief, half in despair that this was his actual reality.

“Why don’t you add a ‘kooky’ at the beginning as well,” he muttered.

“You sure you’re not an ad-man? ‘Cause that is genius!” 

“Seriously? ‘Kooky Kootie Kombat’ sounds good to you?”

“Brilliant, really. I mean, who can resist that? Which makes it right on par with the product in question.”

Another salesperson spoke up, in a lower voice, but loud enough to be heard by the baffled board. 

“You should put that as a tag-line: ‘Irresistable!’ Get a sort of glamorous touch to it. Could attract more women to the brand, you know.”

“Oh, that’s pure marketing gold!”

“Excuse me,” interrupted the CEO again. “Honestly, ‘Kooky Kootie Kombat?’ Have you even thought about the acronym?”

“No, but it sounds FUN. HIP! Like a tune young people would dance to.”

He pulled a few dance moves (and a muscle or two as he did so.)

The CEO smashed down with his fist, overturning one of the glasses of mineral water sitting on the table. The coffee mugs stood more firmly, and escaped ruin. The executive whose glass had just keeled over pulled her chair back, to avoid the stream of sparkling water trickling over the edge, and grieving for the loss of the beverage. 

“I am NOT rebranding our biological warfare department as the ‘KKK,’ you goddamn fools!”

The entire ad and PR departments stopped their stiff shuffling and an awkward silence fell over the room. 

“No,” said the man in charge of the presentation, swallowed audibly, and started to look nervous. “That would perhaps be ill-advised.”

The CEO sat, and calmed, down. 

“What else have you got?”

The admen looked at each other, nervously, fining only shrugs among them.

“Honestly, sir? We kinda put all out eggs in one basket on this one.”

“Why? That’s not your style.”

“No, but, yeah, we really… thought this was… a sure-fire thing. Like, it was really late and stuff… and we were tired and had been brainstorming for hours… and… well… I guess that’s it…”

“Get out…”

“What do you mean? Like, we’re fired, or just… you know?”

“I mean scram, idiots! Be thankful you still have jobs. This was thoroughly painful to watch. Utterly, utterly embarrassing. What the hell were you thinking?”

“… uh…”

“NEVER MIND! I don’t want to know. Just go. Come back tomorrow with a viable idea, or so help me God, you’ll all be out of a job before your can say ‘political correct.’ Until then, I don’t want to see you, or this abominable pitch for an ad campaign. Do you understand me?!”

“Yes, sir. Quite, sir.”

They hurriedly disassembled their presentation, shutting down the overhead projector and collecting their billboards. All traces of the failure was erased within seconds, the floor fell empty. The CEO held his head down and massaged his temples with closed eyes, trying not to have a hypertension-induced seizure. In the lull, one board member cleared his throat.

“I thought it was rather good…”