Trick Or MEAT

Hey, can I ask a favour?

The Good Lady popped her head in the Kitchen where I was pounding the shit out of a lump of dough like a frustrated fifties housewife.

Of course my sweet, you can ask me anything, you know that!

I grinned whilst hauling the dough apart in a paddling motion as if I were swimming into an underwater cave guarded by an obese ladies vagina flaps.

Cool.

The Good Lady slipped in the door and shuffled her feet.

You know it's Halloween this coming weekend?

She sounded oddly hesitant. Perhaps seeing my bread kneading in action was making her cervix ache with wanton lust.

Course I know it is Halloween. Like, duh?!

I slapped my baton of dough on the counter and gave it a cheeky rub.

Would you... Would you mind if I took the kids trick or treating with Hakeem from down the road on Halloween? It would mean you could sit in and chill that night instead of trailing around all the doors.

The Good Lady flinched as if trying to prise the meat from a small lobster.

Who the fuck is Hakeem?

My spectacular kneading which could put a cat making a bed to shame slowed down to a stop.

Oh God, you know Hakeem! He is the one who's wife... you know?

The Good Lady pumped her arms back and forth as if skiing and waggled her eyebrows up and down.

What? She wanked off two men? Fuck sake, that's hardly a crime?

I slapped my dough in a bowl and turned to give her my full attention.

No, you idiot. She was the one who left him for that guy in her work? Remember? Left him and his daughter Ophum and ran off?

The Good Lady puffed her chest out with wifely outrage and narrowed her eyes disapprovingly as if she could see Hakeem's wife far off in the distance cavorting with random men.

So his wife leaves him and now I am expected to just offer up mine for a bit of bum-funtling? Ha, not fucking likely. Tell him to fucking beat it.

I sniffed the sniff of a man who says no to wife-swapping. Particularly when the other party doesn't even have a wife to swap. I mean that would have been a different kettle of fish, after all, Hakeem's wife had looked like the naughty-Nelly-shaving type.

The Little Lady and Ophum are such good friends. They will have a blast. Come on. Stop being an arse.

Me, an arse?! You are blowing me off for a hot date with another man on Halloween and I am being an arse!?

Ooft, It's not a hot date! The kids are going trick or treating. You always moan and complain that you hate it. I thought I was doing you a favour!

A favour? Going out trick or treating with another man? Coming home all matted with smeddum?!?!
_{which means jizz... You know, Manfat? Baby-batter? Hot fish yoghurt?}

I shoved my bowl of dough contemptuously to the side as I faced up to the Good Lady who was even now looking as if she was going to assault me with something kitchen'y.

Oh yes, that's really what is going to happen, me up against a tree getting a humping dog fuck from Hakeem whilst the kids wander the streets. Oh yes, that is so likely.

The Good Lady huffed like a loose-lidded old kettle reluctantly coming to the boil.

My face twisted with disgust.

A humping dog fuck..? A humping dog fuck?? Oh, my poor ears? That's so crude, oh god, woman. You are a filthy mare?? Such crudeness! Go, take your filthy ways out of my good clean kitchen. Go and dog fuck your new man. See if I care. I will probably just watch Squid Game or something. Go, leave me to my empty shallow NetFlix watching existence.

I waved her away.

Oh you are a prick. I do love you though. Maybe I won't hump Hakeem.

She laughed.

I snorted, unable to keep a straight face.

Aye, maybe I won't kill him to death either.

I laughed and then stopped.

Better not make any rash promises.