Trust me. The picture will make sense in a minute, so stick with me.

Heh. Before we get to Mr. Handsome with a capital ‘H’, let me share a little convo I had with Honey last night that had me LMAO! This is kind of a follow-up to the post on the jagged scar Honey’s working on after banging his skull when he was trying to fix the water leak. *shakes head* Here’s the setup. I’m in the kitchen – doing what else? Cooking when Honey comes in. Did I mention his mood always gets lighter *looks right at you* if you know what I mean, when the food room fills with delicious aromas.

He comes around the counter and bangs his hip on the corner, swearing, “#@&! that’s going to leave a bruise.”

Me, without turning away from the stove. “Can I help you with something?”

He grabs me from behind and growls in my ear, “How about you put the sauce on the back burner and we take a siesta before dinner?”

Me thinking, ‘Oh sure. I smell like the garlic I chopped to put into the tomato sauce. Absolutely, this is a great time for the smexxy.’ Out loud I joke, “No thanks. I told you this morning, unlike most ‘chicks’ who dig scars – I’m still trying to get used to it.”

“That?” He curls down and nips my ear. “Don’t worry about that. With what I have in mind you won’t be in a position to see it.”

My eyes narrow as I stir the spaghetti. “Oh really?”

“Yeah, but I can’t promise the same for the bruise I just made, so you’ll just have to suck it up along with…”

I’d go on, but it was bad. Really, really, bad. Worse? I burned my sauce because I forgot to put it on the back burner. Oh, and you know that trick about putting a slice of white bread on top of burnt rice to take the charred flavor out of it? *snap* It doesn’t work for tomato sauce. Trust me. The moral of this little Honey story? Keep him out of the kitchen when cooking is going on, or be prepared by having a local pizza place on speed dial. This reminded me of the pot roast story. >.< That was doozy too.

If you need to catch up on what we’re doing click here or here.

Anyways, here’s Larz’s scene. I can’t wait to hear your ideas on where to go from here. Heh! As a reminder I put in bold the words I incorporated that some of you sent to me. As you can see there were a lot of them – which was challenging. For the next scene I’m going to choose five to use. You can post your suggestions/words in comments – or as usual, if you prefer to email them to me you can do that too. Alrighty. Without further adieu, here’s Mr. Handsome.

The Unloved Wanderer

Larz’s scene

Today was no different than any other…or so Larz thought. Here he was, doing what he always did when he got to the store. He kept his head down and hunted for the products he required while looking for his Goldirella. Ever since he was a adolecent he’d been searching for her. His woman. A cross between Golidlocks and Cinderella. His ideal mate not only needed to have the right size shoe, she couldn’t be asymmetrical, or too small. She had to be his idea of perfection. Truthfully, he’d just about given up all hope of every finding her, when he snagged the avocado he wanted, and looked down.

A size fourteen wide. Open toed and not a scuff on them. The shoes that is, because the toes were, well…wizened and turned up even.

His heart rate gained speed.

The gnarled digits were stacked against one another at random left and right angles. Her corns had corns, and her bunions had bunions. Beautiful. What a challenge it would be to cobble her hobblers. He wasn’t going to get his hopes up though. He’d need to see the whole package before he swooned.

Licking the drool from his lips, he slowly lifted his gaze from her toes to her ankles. His pulse pounding in his ears when he spied the wilted stocking circling her leg like a flaccid condom around a lamppost. No discernable ankle bones, how intriguing.

His gaze traveled higher, while he devoured the sight of her unshaven legs and deeply dimpled knees. The kneecap puckers complimented the mottled and dented surface of the skin on her thighs not hidden by her gabardine skirt.

Rawr!

Larz was staking claim even before he got to her hips that curved out in luscious teardrop-shaped handles a man could take hold of and drive until his heart’s content.

Double rawr!

Then to his utter delight, triple rawr, once he searched higher. Her breasts ran into her stomach, or her stomach ran into her breasts, either way it was a turn-on. He couldn’t stop himself. He tilted his head all the way back to see the color of her hair, and that’s when he sucked in a breath. She was giant. Hulking. A massive testament to the existence of an Amazonian race. A brute, a beast, the most spectacular female warrior he’d ever seen. When she regarded him his knees knocked together and he nearly dropped to them to pay homage to her loveliness.

Her eyes were black and beady. Narrowed to slits with just the right amount of squint to claw into him. She was a goddess. The Rodent Queen of Disdain. A pillar of fiendish fickleness. He had absolutely no idea what he’d done to earn her contempt, but far from being upset by it, he relished her scorn. It gave him a chance to hear her congested sniff, before she turned that hawk-like nose toward the ceiling and looked down upon him with a regal rat-like glare. His every thought focused in on her front teeth. Would they also be louse inspired? Bucked and sharp? Paired close together?

He shivered at the thought. God, to be gnawed on by such a pretty pet of powerful proportions! The visual nearly undid him. Images of her using those teeth on him while he ran his hands through her grease-laden hair, filled him with an excruciating lust, so profound and primal he almost ripped off his coat, sweater, overalls, shirt, undershirt and man-bra to ravish her amongst the Kumquats. That vat of fruit may have been farther away from them than the avocados were, but the colorful orange skin of the ’quats would be more of a contrast against her green-tinged complexion. Maybe the wicket full of bananas would be a better bed with which to defile his Amazon queen.

When he turned to gauge the distance to the prospective love nest she pushed past him. The wind of her departure hit him at the same time as the echoing thuds of her heavy footfalls departing – shook the fruits. Where was she going? He couldn’t let her leave. He’d just found his Goldirella!

“Miss? Miss, wait. Please.”

He rushed after her undeterred that the faster he followed her, the speeder she became. Up one aisle, and down the next. She sailed through each lane like an Ironside cutting through placid ocean waves. Quick enough to stay abreast of him to be sure.

“Miss? Can I have a word with you?”

There was no break in her stride. It was as if she were a speed walker hopped up on a case of RedBull.

He took in deep gulping breaths to keep up with her. This was the downside to being grossly underweight. He had no need to exercise, but for her he would. One look at those sagging handlebar hips jiggling as she stomped, and he decided he’d eat raw oysters by the handful and pump iron for hours at end. When the bottom half of her turned to the right and the rest of her was stuck angled off to the left in a crooked slouch he knew one thing. He’d do whatever he had to do to pleasure her. A body like that with feet that offered a challenge? Hell yeah. The man in him was ready to win, but the cobbler within wanted to sin.

“Waxing poetic? It must be love,” he whispered. In a louder voice he called to her, “Please don’t go. I know you wanted an avocado. I have one here. You can have it. Let me help you finish shopping. I shall be your humble servant and de-shelve all your desired items for you.”

She hurried through the potato chip aisle and navigated the beer section with ease, before she rushed out of the automated doors toward the parking lot. He couldn’t let her go. He’d follow her home if necessary.

When he got to the glass doors he stumbled through them, trying to keep up the pace. There was shouting behind him, but he didn’t care. He remained strictly focused on landing his one true love. He almost made it too, until he reached the curb and lost his footing altogether, crying out, “Oh, no! The avocado!”

Thankfully she must have heard him. She swung around just in time to pluck the spinning fruit right out of mid-air. The last thing he saw before he face-planted on the concrete was her man-hand dwarfing the green as if the food item was no bigger than a Ping-Pong ball.

Damn. Such powerful proportions…

After the initial thwack of cheek meeting asphalt, Larz closed his eyes and was ready to sink into another fantasy starring his Amazonian Princess of Perfection when muffled voices reached him. He fought to remain conscious, knowing he had to get up to follow his dream lover. Maybe if he focused in on the voices. Yes the voices.

“Security! Not so fast there, lady. Hand over the fruit.”

“Did you get them, Bob?”

Them? Larz heard a second voice and was confused.

“Yeah, Attila here seems to be tongue tied, but I imagine the little guy is going to have plenty to say once he comes to. He’s the talker. He couldn’t shut up the whole way through their stealing spree.”

Spree? Larz forced his eyes opened and then groaned when the noontime sun blinded him.

“Gee, I’ve only been the store manager for two days. What do we usually do in a case like this? Should I call the police?”

“No. I’ll bring them to the back office and hear what they have to say. They better not try and pull the old, ‘we didn’t do anything’ routine. I can’t tell you how sick I am of that.” He pushed Larz with the toe of his uninspiring shoe. “But I’m a reasonable guy. If their story is entertaining enough, banning them from the store for life will work for me. Are you good with that?”

Larz heard the woman he’d already determined to be the new store manager let out a relieved breath, before she said, “Oh yeah. I’d hate to see two people—”

“Perps.” The security guy interrupted.

“Get in big trouble over a measly avocado.”

“Measly? The way Attila is hugging the fucking thing you’d think it was a diamond.”

Every ache, pain, and discomfort instantly disappeared when those words registered. The goddess was hugging his fruit? Larz shifted and with great effort looked up. Their eyes locked and an emotion he’d never felt before began to bloom inside him. Was it—?

“Officer, please stop grandstanding with your incorrect assumptions and help my dear husband up. Immediately.”

Lust. Raw and raging lust. It had to be. A woman who could think that quickly on her gargantuan feet was someone Larz wanted to be manhandled by.

“I don’t care who the hell he is. You and him are coming to my office.”

Larz didn’t say anything while he let the guy help him up. He would have gone with the security guard quiet as a lamb sleeping in a haystack if the goddess hadn’t chosen that moment to shatter the peace by announcing to the growing crowd…

(End of scene one)

So, what happens next? I need five words and a direction to go in for her announcement. Any ideas? Honey had a good one. I’ll share it first of the week. I cried laughing. That man. *shakes head*

Here’s the giveaway reminder items with more added. We have this:

And this:

And now these. A Rene magnet and a David Post It Note pad. Remember his notes? Haha!

Thanks for stopping by. If you have any words you’d like to see written in – any crazy ideas to make Sherm and Larz’s love story spectacularly unique please share them! Remember, every time you comment or make suggestions your name gets added to the hat for the giveaway when this epic love story is finished.

Riley