Caruso's head was pounding, he was beginning to think this might be the worst hangover in history, maybe the history of mankind or however long man has been making alcohol, he wasn't quite sure how long and he made a mental note to find out the next time he went online.
Of, course all this was happening before the mouse at the controls in his brain gave the instructions to 'Open sesame' in the old eye department, One quarter of the human brain is used to control the eyes, and boy! Whoo, it sure felt it too! It was all a bit early in the morning for multi tasking and he was hungover bad, or so he thought?
'Are you ok?', came the voice for a woman, sitting in the chair next to the bed. 'What, where am i?', now his brain was becoming more engaged in taking in what was going on around him, 'You had a had a bad fall, you stood up on the chair to look at me, do you remember?'
'Hmm, dont...' and he tried sit up and take in just where he was, it didn't look familiar to him, he wasn't in the chicken farm and it definitely wasn't the house in Oak st, judging by the big chandelier, the room was big enough to play frisbee in, who would have a room that big he thought? There were oil paintings on the walls, detailed painting on the ceiling, the bed was the softest thing he ever slept in, it was like sleeping on a cloud!
It was turning out be quite a strange day as his eyes began to focus on the woman in front of him
'It couldn't be', he muttered. 'It's me', she said. 'But your the girl, the statue! Maria?' Actually, my name is Alexandria, actually, Countess Alexandria Von Coco, but you can call me Maria, i think Maria is kinda cute and i think your kinda cute and she planted a big kiss on his forehead'
'Mamma Mia', uttered the chicken farmer and he very nearly pinched himself, but stopped himself mid way, if this was a dream he thought, better not bail out now, how often do you wake up in a room like an art gallery, the size of a football field with a queen or what ever it was all about? 'Am i dead, could i be in heaven?', he gulped, and if he was, he certainly didn't have any complaints, not yet anyways!
Maybe he could hold off the pinching stuff off until things got a bit heated, that or if he had to do the dishes and in a place like this, they were sure to have a dishwasher, gods greatest gift to mankind, it certainly looked like the kind of place that could afford one, not that he knew how to use one, but he knew what it looked like, and where to find it, usually, sometimes he would just chuck dishes in the bin and, 'cut out the middleman', he would normally say, what ever that meant? Reader, your guess is as good as mine.
But that was only when he was thinking outside the box, the box being his brain, it's just that sometimes there wasn't much going on inside the box, it was more a case of a mouse asleep at the wheel, when it came to any domestic duties anyways, after all, he was hardly a house cat, that was Mr Magoo's department after all
The patient steadily sat up in bed and was beginning to take Maria in as he came to observe every detail of her face and body, her blue eyes. 'Ah, ha', he said out loud, his first question already answered, her eye color which could not have been revealed in the marble, was revealed clear as daylight, although still a little bit fuzzy as he began to drink her features, her long black hair, her tanned complexion, her lips were full and sensuous, not a trace of make up, this was real beauty that was staring back at him folks, as he rubbed his eyes just to make sure and glanced over both shoulders, there was no one else there next to him as slowly the fact started to seep into his brain, as if by osmoses that, yep, you guessed it, 'She's looking at you buddy!'
It was like something out of a dream, something he hoped he'd never wake up from, dream or not, if truth be told, this woman was in fact flawless, what a chicken farmer/Real estate investor was doing in her vicinity was the next question? For all intense purposes, she had the appearances of the kind of girl that could take him out and show him a good time and just what the hell would be wrong with that? As he tried to read the features of the angelic woman that was by his side, as he opened his lips to verbalize his thoughts
'People with blue eyes are better able to see in the dark', he said as he gazed into Countess Von Coco's soul, as if he was he finally was gazing into a field, where the grass actually was greener on the other side, but blue, sky blue and not a cloud in sight, quite an unexpected rebound from the tumble in the kitchen, if his life was a stock report, it would look like the mountain range he could see from the outdoor toilet, while perched on the seat, a whole series of ups and downs, and hey, things were starting to look up again, the sky was the limit, although the pain in his head was dragging the party down.
'Oh you', she giggled, 'you are to lie down and take it easy, you must rest, you know, no one much paid me interest in that house, you were the first to pay me any attention, real attention' said Maria as she passed the patient a glass of water.
'Are you hungry, dear?' She inquired, 'Does the pope wear a funny hat?', replied the patient of Château Coco, a Château built in the 15th century by the Maria's ancestors as a ornate glass of water came maneuvered by a hand the size of a Peach, to his lips.
People, our boy Caruso truly was in heaven, and then he began to wonder what possible delights he could order, was there a menu? Did they have a Chef? Would he be able to order eggs Benedict?
Even if he wasn't really in heaven, it would be heaven, in an eggs Benedict kind of way, it was all in the sauce he reflected, licking his lips, but he really didn't want to get into all that now, not just yet anyways as he suddenly felt drowsy
Right now, he needed something for his pounding headache, which prompted the following words from his vocal chords, 'Do you have any paracetamol tablets Maria?"
'Sorry, Caruso' offered his Countess, 'This is the year 1854, paracetamol hasn't been invented yet', 'I can get the maid to get you some herbal tea', that or you'll have to tough it out like a good soldier, 'What about Eggs Benedict?, 'If you can give the chef the instructions', 'thy will be done' smiled his Countess
'I'll be ok', he reflected, a bit more perturbed that one of his favorite foods could not be sourced, not that he could describe Eggs Benedict, for all he was concerned, it was magical, something that was and would be indescribable, to him anyways, not that he didn't sometimes have a way with words, right now his hands were by his side it seemed that he needed to have his hands at eye level as if he was the conductor of the orchestra of his thoughts, after all, his daddy was Italian, or so the story goes?
Before placing an order for breakfast from the waitress AKA Countess Alexandria Von Coco AKA Maria, he Caruso AKA 'Head the ball', drifted off to sleep and dreamt the dream of a man that had died and gone to heaven and was now feasting on a dish that consists of two halves of an English muffin, topped with bacon (always bacon!), poached eggs and Hollandaise sauce
Sound familiar?
Of, course all this was happening before the mouse at the controls in his brain gave the instructions to 'Open sesame' in the old eye department, One quarter of the human brain is used to control the eyes, and boy! Whoo, it sure felt it too! It was all a bit early in the morning for multi tasking and he was hungover bad, or so he thought?
'Are you ok?', came the voice for a woman, sitting in the chair next to the bed. 'What, where am i?', now his brain was becoming more engaged in taking in what was going on around him, 'You had a had a bad fall, you stood up on the chair to look at me, do you remember?'
'Hmm, dont...' and he tried sit up and take in just where he was, it didn't look familiar to him, he wasn't in the chicken farm and it definitely wasn't the house in Oak st, judging by the big chandelier, the room was big enough to play frisbee in, who would have a room that big he thought? There were oil paintings on the walls, detailed painting on the ceiling, the bed was the softest thing he ever slept in, it was like sleeping on a cloud!
It was turning out be quite a strange day as his eyes began to focus on the woman in front of him
'It couldn't be', he muttered. 'It's me', she said. 'But your the girl, the statue! Maria?' Actually, my name is Alexandria, actually, Countess Alexandria Von Coco, but you can call me Maria, i think Maria is kinda cute and i think your kinda cute and she planted a big kiss on his forehead'
'Mamma Mia', uttered the chicken farmer and he very nearly pinched himself, but stopped himself mid way, if this was a dream he thought, better not bail out now, how often do you wake up in a room like an art gallery, the size of a football field with a queen or what ever it was all about? 'Am i dead, could i be in heaven?', he gulped, and if he was, he certainly didn't have any complaints, not yet anyways!
Maybe he could hold off the pinching stuff off until things got a bit heated, that or if he had to do the dishes and in a place like this, they were sure to have a dishwasher, gods greatest gift to mankind, it certainly looked like the kind of place that could afford one, not that he knew how to use one, but he knew what it looked like, and where to find it, usually, sometimes he would just chuck dishes in the bin and, 'cut out the middleman', he would normally say, what ever that meant? Reader, your guess is as good as mine.
But that was only when he was thinking outside the box, the box being his brain, it's just that sometimes there wasn't much going on inside the box, it was more a case of a mouse asleep at the wheel, when it came to any domestic duties anyways, after all, he was hardly a house cat, that was Mr Magoo's department after all
The patient steadily sat up in bed and was beginning to take Maria in as he came to observe every detail of her face and body, her blue eyes. 'Ah, ha', he said out loud, his first question already answered, her eye color which could not have been revealed in the marble, was revealed clear as daylight, although still a little bit fuzzy as he began to drink her features, her long black hair, her tanned complexion, her lips were full and sensuous, not a trace of make up, this was real beauty that was staring back at him folks, as he rubbed his eyes just to make sure and glanced over both shoulders, there was no one else there next to him as slowly the fact started to seep into his brain, as if by osmoses that, yep, you guessed it, 'She's looking at you buddy!'
It was like something out of a dream, something he hoped he'd never wake up from, dream or not, if truth be told, this woman was in fact flawless, what a chicken farmer/Real estate investor was doing in her vicinity was the next question? For all intense purposes, she had the appearances of the kind of girl that could take him out and show him a good time and just what the hell would be wrong with that? As he tried to read the features of the angelic woman that was by his side, as he opened his lips to verbalize his thoughts
'People with blue eyes are better able to see in the dark', he said as he gazed into Countess Von Coco's soul, as if he was he finally was gazing into a field, where the grass actually was greener on the other side, but blue, sky blue and not a cloud in sight, quite an unexpected rebound from the tumble in the kitchen, if his life was a stock report, it would look like the mountain range he could see from the outdoor toilet, while perched on the seat, a whole series of ups and downs, and hey, things were starting to look up again, the sky was the limit, although the pain in his head was dragging the party down.
'Oh you', she giggled, 'you are to lie down and take it easy, you must rest, you know, no one much paid me interest in that house, you were the first to pay me any attention, real attention' said Maria as she passed the patient a glass of water.
'Are you hungry, dear?' She inquired, 'Does the pope wear a funny hat?', replied the patient of Château Coco, a Château built in the 15th century by the Maria's ancestors as a ornate glass of water came maneuvered by a hand the size of a Peach, to his lips.
People, our boy Caruso truly was in heaven, and then he began to wonder what possible delights he could order, was there a menu? Did they have a Chef? Would he be able to order eggs Benedict?
Even if he wasn't really in heaven, it would be heaven, in an eggs Benedict kind of way, it was all in the sauce he reflected, licking his lips, but he really didn't want to get into all that now, not just yet anyways as he suddenly felt drowsy
Right now, he needed something for his pounding headache, which prompted the following words from his vocal chords, 'Do you have any paracetamol tablets Maria?"
'Sorry, Caruso' offered his Countess, 'This is the year 1854, paracetamol hasn't been invented yet', 'I can get the maid to get you some herbal tea', that or you'll have to tough it out like a good soldier, 'What about Eggs Benedict?, 'If you can give the chef the instructions', 'thy will be done' smiled his Countess
'I'll be ok', he reflected, a bit more perturbed that one of his favorite foods could not be sourced, not that he could describe Eggs Benedict, for all he was concerned, it was magical, something that was and would be indescribable, to him anyways, not that he didn't sometimes have a way with words, right now his hands were by his side it seemed that he needed to have his hands at eye level as if he was the conductor of the orchestra of his thoughts, after all, his daddy was Italian, or so the story goes?
Before placing an order for breakfast from the waitress AKA Countess Alexandria Von Coco AKA Maria, he Caruso AKA 'Head the ball', drifted off to sleep and dreamt the dream of a man that had died and gone to heaven and was now feasting on a dish that consists of two halves of an English muffin, topped with bacon (always bacon!), poached eggs and Hollandaise sauce
Sound familiar?
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