Doneso!!!

After watching "Dream On" about five times, Heather and I sat down for my final writing session of EsNoWriMo 2011. What I wrote was really, really terrible. I'm glad that I can just erase it all and go back later. And no, it wasn't bad like what you guys write that you say is bad but is actually genius. It's straight up bad. But not my excerpt. That I'm proud of.

But yeah, it's done! Can't wait for the wrap party!

Six days a week, 867 Springsteen Street was the home of the “The Boo!-bie Mansion,” a haunted house-themed strip club. On those nights, male strippers dressed as mummies, vampires, werewolves, and man-o-lanterns, would entertain the clientele with their sexy Monster Mash. But once a week, on Wednesdays, the Boo!-bie Mansion turned into a Glee-themed karaoke bar. Both were frightening in their own way: seeing a disembodied penis on stage is certainly terrifying, but so is an ill-advised rendition of “Defying Gravity” or “Bust a Move.”

The staff of Globetrotting Gurlz had hoped to see a mummy unwrap his bandages for Atoosa’s birthday, but unfortunately, no one had told them what was in store for them on a Wednesday night. They walked in to a tall, pretty brunette doing a spirited version of Vanilla Ice’s “Ice, Ice, Baby,” complete with dance moves. It was clearly not an impromptu performance, as she was wearing a black vest with an extremely loose-armed white blouse.

“Yeah, Ronnie!” a pathetic-looking sandy blonde-haired chap called out. She soon finished to raucous applause, and a group of what must have sisters got up to sing “Don’t Stop Believin’.” Needless to say, they knocked it out of the park.

Olivia noticed Gordon from “The Boo!-bie Brew” behind the counter, doing his best impression of Tom Cruise in Cocktail. She ordered several cauldrons of Bee!-bie Brew, and presented them to a less-than-thrilled Atoosa. They all drank deeply, talking excitedly about which duets they were planning on performing worse than the cast of Glee.

Soon, two men, who appeared to be fierce rivals—or more likely, lovers—swooped to the stage much like Hedwig would into the Great Hall of Hogwarts, to deliver a piece of Harry’s mail. One was wearing a pair of DILF-brand khakis, a deep white v-neck t-shirt, and a charcoal vest, had curly hair and a butt chin. He had apparently been escorted out earlier for rapping too much. His adversary—or more likely, lover—was dressed in a leather jacket and leather pants. The opening notes of “Dream On” boomed out of the speakers, and everyone simultaneously turned to the stage as if hypnotized. They glared at one another, and began belting out the lyrics, while reaching out longingly at one another and the crowd. The one who had “learned from fools and from sages” kicked things into high gear when he jumped off of a high rise that had magically appeared. When they both simultaneously fell to the ground while singing “dream on!” in falsetto voices, the entire crowd jumped up and applauded.

Olivia had tears in her eyes. She had just seen the most beautiful thing that the world could probably offer, but it all was empty because she couldn’t share it with her duet partner: Henry F. Darcy. The Third.

“What do you say to taking chances?” Gordon sang from the stage, wowing everyone with his beautiful vocals. “What do you say to jumping off the edge? Never knowing if there’s solid ground below? Or hand to hold? Or hell to pay? What do you say?”

What did Olivia say? Yes! She said yes to taking chances, and jumping off the edge. Over time, she had realized that it wasn’t Mexico heat with Alejandro, romance with Fernando, or Cathy with Robert O., that she wanted or needed. It was Darcy. It was his loyalty, his intelligence, and his sense of humour. It was the way that he believed in her, and the way that he did good things for her, without wanting anything in return. She knew that she couldn’t go another day without him knowing how she felt.

“Atoosa,” Olivia said suddenly, drawing her away from Gordon’s flawless performance. “I need you to give me Darcy’s number! Now!”

“Do you think that Gordon is single?” Atoosa asked, turning again to stare at Gordon as she took out her Blackberry.

“I would put money on it that he is,” Ellie observed.