"By the way, my name is Roberto," I said while looking down at the messy face of my companion. "My friends call me Bobby."

"Mine's Ivanna," the little sparkplug, her face covered in muck of various colors, said with a smile as we stepped into the dining room.

"I guess we're famous," I said as I viewed the room we had just entered.

"Yeah, I think word of our escapades have already reached the masses," Ivanna replied with a chuckle.

As we stepped through that door, into what has been advertised as the city's largest dining room, we quickly noticed that every pair of eyes were staring at us, most with a smile, or a laugh built in. There was something else we noticed, just as quickly. All of those eyes immediately turned to the far wall where there were four enormous tables loaded down with all kinds of delicious, delectable deserts. There was everything from pies to cakes, with puddings and Ganache thrown in, and in addition, there were large tins of custard, both plain and chocolate. There were pitchers of chocolate sauce and chocolate syrup and even more custard. And there was the piece de resistance, a chocolate fountain; you know, where the chocolate is constantly flowing down and people dip fruits, such as strawberries, or pieces of cake into the running chocolate before eating them.

"Oh boy," Ivanna said, "I think we're expected," she said with a snort as her eyes sparkled.

"Wow," was all I could say, as I bent over to her chocolate coated ear. "I think our laundry bill just skyrocketed."

"Ya think," Ivanna replied behind a goo-drenched grin.

As we made our way to the far wall, where all those delicious goodies were waiting, it was as if sensing something extraordinary was about to happen, people started moving away from the area. Servers and waitstaff quickly moved tables from that side of the room.

"What the hell," Ivanna exclaimed, "what are they doing."

"I have a feeling," I said with a sigh, "that WE are going to be the entertainment tonight."

"WHAT!" Ivanna said with just a little hesitation, as she now realized what was going on. "What does this mean."

"I think . . . it means . . . that tomorrow morning we're going to be the talk of the town," I said with a low chuckle.

What the hell. This day started out crappy, and got worse, but now I am with a beautiful woman and . . ., "What the hell. Ivanna, I say, we make the most of it. What do you think?"

As I watched everything that was going on around us, I kept an eye on Ivanna. She had a bewildered look at first, but then as realization dawned, a beautiful smile crossed over her lips. Chocolate pudding was still dripping from Ivanna's face; one large glob, in particular, slowly dropped from the beauty's chin to her chest, before cascading down her dress onto the very tip of her right breast. It teetered, just for an instant, before finally rolling off to splatter on the floor a mere inch in front of her right shoe. As Ivanna turned to me, she started laughing. "What the hell. Why not? Let's do it."

As we stepped up to that first table, everyone had moved away from us. I was looking, or rather was expecting the manager to show up and run us off. Hell, I was half expecting the police to come in and take us away in irons.

But nobody approached us. I saw a couple of guys that might have been supervisors, maybe even a manager. They were standing on the near side of the room, with some of the servers, but they didn't look pissed off.

"Well," I said turning to Ivanna. "What do we do now? What's first?"

"Don't ask me," the chocolate-coated female said, as she looked at me with a smirk, "You're the one who started this by pieing me. It's all on you, chief."

"I started it. I started it. You're saying it was my fault," I Asked incredulously. You're the one who . . ."

"Whoa there, big boy," Ivanna interrupted, "you're the one who spilled MY drink on me."

"I . . .," I started to say something to refute her, but realized I couldn't. She was right.

"Damn, I hate it when you're right."

She started laughing at me, and then said, "And don't you forget it."

"Well okay, then," I said as a huge grin split my lips. I picked up a really big cherry cream pie and turned toward Ivanna.

"Uh wait a minute. That is a whole lot bigger than those pies we used before."

"What's the matter, Ivanna?" I was really warming up to the idea now. "You said it was up to me, remember."

"Uh yeah, but . . ."

That's a really big pie!

"Yes, but just think, with all that chocolate you already have on you, this pink pie will balance out the colors."

Oh shit, what have I gotten myself into.

"Yes, but I don't need any balancing out of colors right now." Ivanna tried to duck, but I had already closed the gap too much. With a loud slapping-sound, that pie went true to its mark, and Ivanna's face, once again, took the full measure of a gooey cream pie. This time, however, it was a pinkish flow of muck that scattered all over the blonde, and a new fresh mess was seen by all. Flashes all over the room were seen as dozens of would-be photographers snapped away to their heart's delight.

"Thanks . . . thanks a lot," Ivanna said, while spitting out a big glob of red-stained pie crust. "That's just what I needed," she grinned through another coating of glop, though this time it was pink. "You just wait until I . . . ahhhhrrrr," a startled Ivanna exclaimed as she slipped in the mess on the floor.

I tried to grab her, but missed, and the next thing I knew, she had landed, hard, right on her rear end.

"Oh shit," we both cried almost simultaneously. "Ivanna are you alright? Are you hurt?" I asked with concern in my voice.

"Only my pride," she said through a clinched grin, "only my pride."

Relieved that my new friend was uninjured, I said, "thank God." And then as I maneuvered around her, I stated, "I think I have something for that."

"Yeah, what's that . . . NO!" Ivanna exclaimed as she saw what I was now holding directly over her head.

In the center of each of those four tables was a large, very large, glass bowl filled with pudding. This one had chocolate pudding. And there must have been at least two or three gallons of the brown muck, which I had just perched over my friend's head.

"You wouldn't . . . no . . . DON'T YOU DARE!"

But her words were cut off as a torrent of chocolate mess rained down onto Ivanna's head and directly into her face.

That stream of chocolate slime finished off what little of her hair that had remained unscathed until that moment. And then, as I altered the point of trajectory, more brown goo trailed over her face, completely blinding Ivanna, before falling upon her chest. When I was finished, it seemed as if the entire upper front half of my new-found friend was covered with a layer of that silky, creamy pudding. To paraphrase the old saying, "chocolate-covered bunny rabbit, well she looked like a chocolate-covered girl. Correction, Woman!

A loud round of applause thundered throughout the room. More and more camera flashes were going off. It seemed as if everyone had their cellphones out and were putting them to good use.

As I looked down upon my friend, my custard-covered face broke into a very large grin.

While desperately trying to clear her eyes, my mucky friend looked up at me. "I am going to kill you," Ivanna said with a withering look, only she enunciated each word clearly and distinctly . . . "I . . . am . . . going . . .to . . . kill . . . YOU," the spunky firebrand said, cocking her head after each word. "You just wait until I get on my feet."

But that proved more difficult than she thought.

I don't know why she doesn't take off those heels.

Finally, out of hopelessness, Ivanna got on her hands and knees and started crawling, thru the muck, toward a dry spot on the floor. This left an even more tempting target. As I stood behind her, I snatched up another pie, this one, a simple custard pie, but with a lot of whipped cream on top. With a lecherous look, I gazed down upon Ivanna's lightly splattered behind and then out to my crowd of admirers. "Should I?"

Seeing more than one nod, I smiled, and then . . .

"Should you whaaaaaaa . . ." Ivanna stated as she looked back.

"Noooooooooo"

"Too late!"

SPLAT!!!

And I ground the pie into that fine posterior which Ivanna had unwittingly stuck up in the air.

Laughter peeled throughout the room.

Ivanna froze, looking back at her pie-stained butt.

"Keep it up, buddy boy. Keep it up. You just wait until I get on my feet."

By now, I was laughing so hard, I could barely stand. And then I made my mistake.

I had gotten ahead of my new friend and was bracing my hand against the next table. But so was she. And as Ivanna stood, she was ready for a little payback.

This table had several pitchers of custard. Some were regular and some of them were the chocolate kind. It was one of the latter that Ivanna now had in her hand.

And just like that, the little hellcat snatched open my trousers with her left hand and then started pouring with her right.

"Aaarrgghhh," I exclaimed as that cold elixir of mess descended down the front of my pants. "Oh shit," I shouted, "that is soooooo cold."

But she kept pouring. None of my rants, or pleas for mercy stopped the reign of terror from humiliating me. Everyone was laughing, now for my nemesis, and not me.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the pour stopped. My khaki pants were full of chocolate mess. The front of my trousers had a slimy wet look, all the way from my crotch down to my knees. The khakis obtained a dark brown look where the chocolate slime had leached through the fabric. It had even gotten into my underwear, and I could feel the custard swishing around my most private parts. As I looked down, I saw the first drops start to filter out of the bottom of my right pants leg.

Well, that's just lovely! These pants are ruined.

But my reign of, what some people might say, justice served, had not ended. As I looked up, there was Ivanna, holding another pitcher of mess. This time over my head.

"Nooooo," I cried, only to be drowned out by Ivanna's laughter.

"What was it you said, my darling . . . TOO LATE!"

And with that, she started pouring again. This was the regular kind of custard. And as it descended, my face quickly turned yellow as the liquid gold slowly inundated my entire head and face, before flowing southward down my neck and onto my jacket.

I wailed and lamented, but to no avail. When Ivanna was done, I was a mess from head to toe.

"Oh darling," Ivanna exclaimed through her laughter, "you look so delicious."

Now, I found the footing difficult, but at last managed to regain enough traction to stand up.

"Yeah," I said, nodding as I looked down at my ruined clothes. "But not as delicious as you look, dear!

Nor as delicious as you are GOING to look!

By now, the entire room was filled with cell phones flashing by the dozens. And it seemed as if everyone was laughing.

Payback's a bitch!

I walked over to another table to see what instruments of mess I could find. This one was loaded with pies, but, also, some nice big, fat, chocolate cakes. And in one corner I found my next round of ammunition. There were several pitchers of chocolate sauce. Perhaps Ivanna sensed what I was going to do next as I saw a look of apprehension cross her face. But I needed a distraction. And it was sitting right in front of me.

I planted that chocolate cake right into the middle of Ivanna's face. Sploooosh, it sounded like a cross between a water balloon bursting and that sound you get when an over-ripe watermelon has fallen and shattered on the ground. Someone must have really filled the cake with extra, extra Ganache before topping it off with about an inch of chocolate buttercream frosting. All I can say is WOW.

WOW! What a number that did!

Ivanna's face appeared to have disappeared under about two inches of dark brown muck. And it just stayed there. The cake mixed in with the other forms of chocolate made an almost impenetrable layer of dark gunk.

Shit, that almost looks like brown cement. Ha!

For once, my new friend was frozen in place, immobilized, unable to move. She had been rendered incapable, even, of speech. A look of absolute horror covered that beautiful chocolate-smeared face.

But I wasn't finished. Though laughter peeled long and loud throughout the room, my time for merriment would have to wait a little longer. I still had work to do.

As Ivanna stood there, transfixed into some kind of chocolate-covered statue, I picked up one of those pitchers of liquid chocolate, and started pouring. The first one went over her head. Rivulets of chocolate slime streamed down all sides of Ivanna's head, but most made its way down her face. Down, down, down, the river of thick chocolate flowed, dripping off her chin, then cascaded down her dress, over her breasts before finally splattering onto the mess that her shoes had become.

But I wasn't done. Picking up another pitcher of chocolate sauce with my right hand, I grasped the top of what had started out as a beautiful white satin dress, in my left hand. Too late, Ivanna realized what I was going to do to her.

"No . . . please don't . . . stopppp . . ."

Yeah, like I said, Payback's a bitch!

As I poured all of that chocolate delight down her dress, I saw Ivanna start to squirm.

Yeah, it's cold, isn't it!

I grinned as I kept up the deluge going down that ruined dress, ignoring her cries of distress. Looking down Ivanna's dress, I directed the pour to where it slowly but surely, completed covered the little blonde's bra until, finally, there wasn't a speck of white showing. After that, I just let the pour continue until every last drop had been expended.

Shit, I can't believe this is happening to me. Why did I have to . . .?

As Ivanna, with a look of horror, peered down into her dress to see if what had just happened really did happen, I quickly frog-marched her to that last table. Her eyes widened, then went blank with a stare of utter shock when she saw what awaited her.

"NNNOOOOOO!!" she wailed just before going under.

For on that last table, amid all of the sundry lists of ingredients for making a really great food fight, there stood a five-foot tall chocolate fountain just waiting for bits of fruit, such as banana slices and strawberries, or marshmallows and pieces of cake to be dipped into a flowing stream of liquefied chocolate, or in this case, one chocolate-covered woman named Ivanna.

Now, I never knew how those machines worked, all I knew was that chocolate sure tasted good. But now, I was going to use it for an entirely different purpose. Although Ivanna was twisting and struggling to secure her release, I had been a police officer, an MP, in the army, so I knew a thing or two about securing a prisoner. Putting one leg in front of hers, so she couldn't kick free, I maintained my hold on Ivanna's arms, pinning them back, and then slowly but surely torqued her body so that Ivanna's face was bent toward that fountain. And though she begged for mercy, I took my free hand and pushed the fountain over just enough so that stream of chocolate left its bounds and poured all over that beautiful face. I kept up the pressure for almost a full minute, slowly rotating her body so that she received the deluge of chocolate, first on her face, then on top of her head, then down the front of her dress, before turning Ivanna, just so, that the chocolate mess went down the little opening at the top of her dress. Small, that opening was, but it was just enough. Soon her dress was filled with chocolate so that the brown goo was streaming, like a miniature waterfall, out the bottom. To say that Ivanna was a mess would be the most understatement of all time.

As with all good things, however, this, too, had to come to an end. And finally, out of mercy for my new friend, and probably because there was no more chocolate, I let go of the fountain and stepped back. I didn't come away totally unscathed though. A good portion of that chocolate had splattered on my pants, and of course, my boots were ruined. But what the hell. It was worth it.

The crowd of onlooker's laughter had turned back in my favor when I finished pouring my mess over Ivanna.

I took a bow, and with a grin, I gave a nod to the four corners.

Oh, my Goodness! I cannot believe he just did THAT! To ME!

"Oh well," Ivanna uttered her first words in what seemed like an eternity. After, finally, getting the worst of that brown sludge out of her eyes, the messy little lady looked at me and said, with a sheepish grin, "Guess I deserved that."

Yeah, like I said, Payback's a bitch!

"Ya think!" I grinned at the chocolate-saturated, disheveled figure standing in front of me.

"Oh well, c'est la vie" she commented in an oh so nonchalant way.

But she said it with a grin, so I figured everything was alright between us.

"Can we call a truce now," Ivanna said through chocolate-smeared lips." This time her eyes were twinkling, as she held out a gunge-covered hand, and I got a good feeling about our situation.

Taking her offered hand, and laughing, I quickly came back with a resounding "yes."

"Will you," and I paused for just a second to consider my words, "let me buy you a new dress to replace the one that I just ruined?"

She stared at me, for a few seconds, through squinted eyes, heavy with chocolate sauce.

"Well, I kind of went a little hard on your jacket, too, you know," the little blonde sparkplug came back. "I think we're probably even." This was said with a chagrined look on her muck-covered face.

"Well, at least let me buy you dinner." I said, and then quickly added, after seeing a big grin light up Ivanna's face," I mean after we have had a chance to . . . well you know what I mean. I wasn't talking about now . . . in our current state."

And with that, we both burst out laughing like complete idiots. And the entire crowd roared their approval.

Finally, after everything settled down, the manager came over to us.

"Uh oh," I said in a soft voice to my new best friend. I think this is where we find out that we will be in debt for the rest of our lives."

"Ya think," Ivanna laughed. "Remember it's all your fault." This last was pointed as she stuck out her tongue.

"Uh, I am so sorry, sir," I stuttered those words, as a very dapper middle-aged man in a Saville Row suit stepped up to us. But he quickly shut me down.

"Think nothing of it, sir. The entertainment that you two brought us was unmeasurable, not to mention the free advertisement. That more than covers everything."

"But," I stuttered, "we trashed your place, a Five-Star restaurant, and ruined God knows how many hundreds, or even thousands of dollars' worth of food."

"It was so worth it, sir. I dare say, nobody that was here tonight will ever forget the show you two put on for us."

"Yeah, and neither will we, I'm sure," Ivanna added with a soft chuckle. "With all the photos that were taken, I doubt if we will ever be able to walk down the street again, without being
recognized."

She was grinning, though, so I knew everything was going to be alright.

"And let me add," the manager said, "that from now on, anytime you come to eat at the Marquis, the meal will be on the house."

"Better on the house than on us," Ivanna replied with a chuckle while looking down at her goo-drenched dress, "I do not think I have ever been so messy, before."

"Well, that went better than I thought it would," I said as Ivanna and I walked out the front door of the most luxurious restaurant in town, to stares, gasps and even giggles. With every step took, we left a trail of mire and muck behind us. My pants were squishing each time I put one foot in front of the other. And I could hear a squelching, almost sucking sound, come from Ivanna's trashed dress each time she took a step. As we stood beside the vehicles our valets had retrieved, while an adoring crowd oohed and awed over us, Ivanna wrote down her phone number on a small piece of paper, trying without success to keep from smearing it with chocolate slime.

"Why don't you call me tomorrow," the beautiful chocolate-covered filly said, with a slight laugh. "But wait till after 4 pm. I'm sure it will take me that long to get clean." Another laugh, and then as I reached in to give Ivanna a hug, she slipped under my arms and planted a big kiss on my lips. Surprised, at first, but then as I could feel my body coming to life, after so long, I responded in kind.

"Thank you," Ivanna said simply, "for an uncouth bas . . . hick, for an uncouth hick, you sure know how to show a girl a good time." And this time we both roared with laughter, and as I watched her drive away, I knew this was the start of something special. Away, but not out of my life, I thought, as I Iooked down at that tiny lifeline of chocolate-stained paper containing her phone number. I could hardly wait until 4 pm, the following day.