Jerry, his TV remote in hand, was relaxed on his couch with his old friend, George, who was slouched on the cushion next to him. “What do you wanna watch?” Jerry started to hand the remote to George.
George waved off the remote, “I don’t care, I just want Elaine to get here so we can get to the game. We’re gonna be late as it is.”
Suddenly the apartment door burst open in and in sprang Kramer, “Hey George, Jerry, you guys ready? Where’s Elaine?
“She’s not here yet and Jerry won’t give us our tickets until she gets here.”
“Hey, c’mon guys. She’s a girl, girls don’t like basketball…” Kramer began to plead.
“Oh yah,” volunteered Jerry, “she just happens to be the biggest Knicks fan in New York. She’d kill us all if we went without her.”
Just then, the intercom squawked.
Jerry got up and buzzed Elaine in, “C’mon up,” he called.
A few minutes later, in rushed Elaine, her hair dripping, her clothes drenched.
“My God,” she stood by the door, a puddle forming under her, “This is the worse day in my entire fucking life!”
The guys were aghast.
“What happened?” cried Jerry.
“Do you actually want me to stand here cold and soaked to my skin, ruining your floor and explain…?
“God, no!” Jerry quickly steered Elaine towards his bathroom, “get the clothes off, get in the shower and warm up.”
Elaine sloshed into the bathroom yelling, “Nobody goes to any basketball game tonight without me!” Slamming the door behind her. Soon the sound of the shower could be heard.
“Geez,,” Jerry said, “what a mess.” He went to a closet, grabbed a large towel and started to wipe the floor, “what the hell do you think happened?”
“I don’t know,” offered George, “it’s not even raining.”
“It’s a puzzle, alright,” put in Kramer, “A real mystery. C’mon Jerry, let me have your ticket. Me and George can go to the game. We can at least get there before half-time.”
“Ah, ah, no way.” Jerry pulled out the tickets from his pocket, walked over to the kitchen and proceeded to tear them into pieces, letting them drop into a waste-basket, “I value my life too much.”
“Aw, God, whadya doing Jerry,” groaned George, “now were stuck here without anything to do.”
“Yah, Jerry,” Kramer added, “why do we have to suffer just because you do?”
Jerry was not moved, “You guys can stay or go, I don’t care. But I’m going to breath easy knowing I did the right thing.”
“And knowing Elaine isn’t going to kill you,” offered Kramer.
“Well, that too,” agreed Jerry.
Without another word, all three crammed on the couch as Jerry began to work the remote, waiting for Elaine.
“Maybe we can go out to eat when Elaine’s done,” Jerry said halfheartedly.
“Mm,” George and Kramer answered in unison, each with an equal lack of enthusiasm.
“It’ll only take two hours for her to get ready,” George said.
“Yah,” Kramer added, “Somebody’ll have to either run over to her place for some dry clothes or take her wet ones down to the laundry room…”
George raised his hand, “I’m for the laundry room.”
“I don’t think it matters what you’re for, George,” Jerry remarked, finally setting the remote down after settling on the Knicks game, already in progress. “Not quite like being there, is it?”
“Um!” agreed George and Kramer.
About fifteen minutes later Elaine emerged from a steamy bathroom, her skin flushed from the hot shower. A large towel was wrapped around her and tucked in her bosom. She was drying her hair with another towel.
“Whew,” She exclaimed, “what a day.” She sat down on a dining chair by the table behind Jerry’s couch, “Jerry, something’s gotta be done about the kids in this neighborhood.”
The guys all stood to face Elaine.
“What happened?” they all implored at once.
“Oh,” Elaine, still towel drying her hair, “not much. Just as I was passing the fire hydrant down the street a couple of rag-muffins wrenched the hydrant’s what-cha-ma-call-it off, flooding everything. Especially me. Now my clothes are soaked on your bathroom floor, I’m sitting here in a towel and I look like a drowned rat.”
“Oh, no, Elaine,” Kramer was quick to reply, “you did look like a drowned rat when you came in the door--but now you look pretty good, all nice and rosy…”
“Really?” Elaine looked up, a little mollified. She stopped drying her hair. “You guys aren’t mad because I made you miss the game?”
“Oh, no,” Jerry lied, “we were just glad you’re OK.”
“Well I’m mad,” Kramer spoke up, “we had great seats, right down by Spike Lee.”
“OK, I guess we’re all mad,” said Jerry.
“Yah, we’re all pretty upset, pretty damned upset!” said George, finally putting in his two-cents.
“Well, what are you going to do, spank me?” said Elaine, sticking out her tongue and resuming her toweling off efforts. i At this, Kramer, Jerry and George all exchanged conspiratorial grins. Without a word, they quickly made for Elaine, Jerry and George grabbing her arms and Kramer her legs to whisk her off to the couch, despite her violent efforts to escape and her screams of outrage.
“What the hell, what are you guys doing…”
“You asked for it,” said Jerry.
“Oh yah, you asked for it,” agreed Kramer.
“Yah,” grinned George.
Quickly, Jerry and Kramer were seated on the couch with Elaine stretched across their laps, bottom up. George pushed down on her back and Kramer held down her legs with one hand while he drew the towel up to reveal her bare buttocks.
Jerry, one arm holding Elaine down across her shoulders, smacked her a hard one on a quickly reddening ass cheek.
“Oh, you guys, I will kill you when I get out of this,” yelled Elaine, still struggling in vain.
Kramer followed Jerry’ slap with one of his own on her other buttock, “Jerry, you never told me she had such a sweet ass,” he grinned happily.
Jerry and Kramer quickly got a rhythm going, spanking Elaine’s ass while her screaming died down to a small whimper with each smack.
George, trying to get in a little spanking himself, protested, “C’mon you guys, make a little room…”
