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--- J E F F R E Y   L O O

1. the deal I felt in my guts that something was up the way Jude led me in, "You swore you'd take off your clothes, do anything we want --" (pinching my waist) and we'll enlighten you... (unbuttoning there) if you just slip into this," and she handed me a small black velvet dress. (loosening lower) "No! I'm not gonna --" Carol measured meticulously up under my shirt: "It'll fit!" she burst, (stroking my chest) "Besides, you're a poet... Think of this as research..." "Unh uh." (my buckle popped) Carol's bourbon voice was so hot, "But I just took if off for you..." (my ear caught fire) "Whoa --" "Strip."

I should've known it was a trap when my shoulders got stuck halfway through with most of the narrows still overhead and nothing below -- in the bathroom I gasped, "Help! I'm trapped in this thing!" They crowded in behind and slowly tugged down the sturdy, strangling tube -- and then the taping and shaping of the slimy, squishy balloons. Jude poked one, jabbed the other and snapped, "You see -- you see what we go through for you."

2. After he said, "Hey baby"

"'Hey baby' yourself -- you're making a fatal error," I warned shouting over the authentically retro pop. In a muscle-bound nylon shirt half-open to fur and cheap gold chains he stared straight through Carol in my clothes and Jude in overalls. But Jude challenged him: "I bet my girlfriend here could kill you arm wresting." He sneered, "It's impossible -- I may be a moron, but things like that just do NOT happen!" Jude chimed, "Well, you're at least half right." Then her eyes counted the seconds till he realized he was being trashed (her sort-of IQ test.) Oh no, his eyes were glazed in soft focus, sticking to me like white glue -- Jude clasped my cheek and cracked: "Baby, he's smitten." "Don't kid." "I bet his chest size is bigger than his IQ..." My feelings were mixed -- I didn't want to laugh but when she did the math, "A forty-six plus four - for that deep manly, shag," I was shaking so hard I thought my balloons would pop. Not seeing what was really shaking, he stepped close and asked, full of hope, "So, ya wanna dance?" "Sorry, I don't dance with men whose tits are bigger than mine."

Finally, a frown, hostility, maybe even violence-in-the-making. But Jude gently slid her body up against Mr. Rug and shrugged, "Well, she tried to warn you... She's not a girl who misses much."

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