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Couple uses Halloween to scare one another.
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"It's Halloween night, fright night, Roger. Let's do something scary," said Anne to her boyfriend with a foreboding look.
"Scary? You can't scare me, Anne. Been there, done that, I've seen it all and experienced it all. I've been a cop too long to be scared," said Roger waving a hand of disinterest with his usual comportment of arrogant smugness, before giving her his customary little laugh.
"Ha! You don't think you can be scared? You don't think I can scare you? I can scare you," said Anne nodding her blonde head.
"Besides, you know games aren't my thing, never have been. Action is. Give me some action, Anne. Let's have sex, baby," he said wrapping an arm around Anne's slender waist and following her curvy lines, before reaching around to cup her sweet ass with one hand and feel her ample breast with the other.
"No, I want to make you scream like a girl first," she said with a laugh, while pushing him away.
"If what you want to do is scream, baby, I can make you scream," he said in his best Barry White voice and, pulling her close again to give her a kiss, a grope and a feel. "Let's get it on."
"No," said Anne pushing him away with two hands pressed hard against his muscular chest. "In honor of the Halloween holiday, I want to do something different, instead of just going to bed and having sex. We don't go anywhere. We don't do anything. All we do is screw."
"That's not true, Anne, and you know it. Most times you just blow me."
"You're a real comedian, Roger," she said giving him the fisheye. "Just this once, I want to have some Halloween holiday fun. Just once, without you being so God almighty and acting as if you know it all, done it all, and been through it all, I'd like to scare the bejesus out of you," she said with a laugh.
"I already told you, Anne. I don't scare. Sorry," said Roger with tiredness and giving her a deadpan stare, as if sizing up a suspect on the street. "When I can stand over a dead, bloodied body eating a jelly donut or a hot dog with everything on it without puking, I've already passed the not able to scare test. Too damn desensitized, I'm numb from the years of seeing really scary things."
"Scary things? Ha! You haven't seen scary stuff until you work as a social worker in the Department of Welfare and Human Services and a mother comes in with her three, small, sick children with no job, no money, no food, and no place to live," said Anne with a satisfied smile. "Now that's scary."
"Okay, I'll play your silly game," said Roger making eye contact with his sexy girlfriend. "And you ain't seen scary, until you come across a prostitute beaten to a bloodied pulp and dumped in a dumpster, multiple dumpsters," said Roger raising the stakes. "Now that's scary, that is, to anyone other than me. I've seen that kind of horror lots of times before."
"That's pretty scary but, unfortunately, I can beat that," said Anne without the sensitivity and innocence she once had, when she took the job as social worker for the Department of Social Services, right out of college, ten years ago.
She looked at Roger with a faraway look once only reserved for soldiers coming home from war but now a look that included traumatized police officers, social workers, doctors, nurses, EMTs, and all the others who deal with accidents, illnesses, and death on a daily basis.
"Go ahead, give it your best shot, Anne. I'm ready," said Roger. "Scare me."
"You haven't seen scary, until you visit a client's home and see roaches everywhere, a rat in the crib eating a crying baby, and another toddler laying face down dead in dirty bathtub water. You haven't seen scary, until you see a mother foaming at the mouth, her eyes rolled back in her head, and here dead from an overdosed of heroin. Seeing all of that is one thing, but trying to pick up the pieces to help her survivors is another, especially when the state is cutting our budget. Now, that's some scary shit."
"Okay, I admit, we've both been desensitized from seeing some scary shit, but the fact remains that you can't scare me," said Roger with a shrug, while remaining steadfastly persistent in his claim of not being able to be frightened.
"Oh, yeah?" Anne looked at her boyfriend with insight. "I can scare you. I can scare the shit right out of you. I can scare you senseless. I can make you cry, you'd be so scared."
"Oh, yeah. Unlike you, Anne, I don't take my work home with me. Unlike you, I don't get emotionally involved with my victims and perpetrators in the way you do with your clients taking them in your home and giving them food and a place to sleep for the night. Unlike how you treat your job as a religious calling, my job is just a job and nothing more than a Lieutenant's paycheck."
"Liar. I've seen you worry over so victim. I've seen that look of concerned horror on your face more than once," said Anne.
"Concerned horror? Yeah, sure, I admit that I'm physically and mentally drained, but when I come home, I close my front door and leave the world behind. I turn on the TV, flop on the couch with a beer, and file all the day's activities away, until the next day, when I put on my badge and holster my gun. Sorry, Anne, but you can't scare me."
"That's bullshit and you know it, Roger. I can scare you. You're just as emotionally invested and physiologically connected as am I. Who are you trying to kid? I've seen the looks of sadness on your face over something that happened during your shift."
"Okay, maybe I am a bit too connected to the victims. Who wouldn't be? I have to be to find their killers, give them justice, and allow them eternal peace. Yet, that doesn't mean that you can scare me. You can't."
"Oh, I can scare you, Mister, big, tough, He-Man of a police officer," said Anne smiling her confidence. "A soft touch, an easy mark, you'd be so easy to scare. When it comes to being scared, you're a pussy. You're my bitch."
"Bitch? I'm your bitch? I'm no one's bitch," said Roger with a laugh.
"Bitch," said Anne laughing, too.
"Well, if this is what it takes to have sex with you, if I must play this silly children's game first, before we fuck and before you suck, then give it your best shot. Go ahead and scare me, baby. Scare me," said Roger sitting down on the couch, folding his arms across his chest, and acting as if he was about to listen to another perpetrator's claim of innocence. "Go ahead. C'mon, I dare you. Scare me."
"Okay. So, Mister tough guy, you don't think that I can scare you. I'll scare you, alright," said Anne leaving the room and returning with a Ouija board. "Oh, yeah, big guy, get ready to be scared."
She put a fat, white candle down, set the game on the coffee table and opened the box, before sitting on the floor Indian style with her legs crossed.
"Oh, no. No Ouija boards. I hate those things," said Roger leaning back in his seat and waving his hands, as if trying to stop traffic.
"Look at you, Mister you can't scare me. You're already frightened over a silly child's game," said Anne with a laugh. "It's just a Ouija board, Roger."
"Kid's game my ass. That thing is evil. That thing is nothing but a porthole to the Devil," said Roger. "You never know what wicked creature you'll unleash with that thing by teasing the occult. I'll have no part of something that I can't shoot and kill. I'll have no part of something that I don't even know exists, when it's in the room and standing right behind me."
"Okay, then, let's forget about the Ouija game," said Anne reluctantly closing the box and moving the game to the side with a look of obvious misgivings. "I can scare you with just words," she said with less confidence, while sitting on the floor again, crossing her legs, and exposing her pink, bikini panties, when she pulled her long skirt up past her knees to sit, before fluffing it down.
"You're wearing your pink panties?"
"Yeah. So?" Perhaps because of the sexual high heat of Roger's stare, she smoothed her dress down against her thighs.
"I love your pink panties. They're my favorite panties. They make your ass look so perfect and your mound irresistible that I want to spank your ass and bite your pussy."
"Focus Roger, focus. Get your mind off my pink panties, off my perfect ass, and off my irresistible mound, so that I can scare you with my words."
"Words? Fat chance. You'd have to hold a gun to my head to scare me with just words. Unless your words include terrorist attack, or that my favorite bar is closed, or that my beloved Mustang was stolen, or that you'll no longer have sex with me, you can't scare me with mere words," said Roger with a laugh.
"I know just what to say to you that will scare you senseless," said Anne, now with confident assuredness.
"You do, huh? Go for it, then. I'm ready to be frightened," said Roger waving his hands over his head. "Woo! Spooky! It's Halloween. I'm so afraid of the dark. Trick or treat, go ahead and scare me silly. Make my day. Scare me, baby, scare me."
