One year later, Ivanna and I, who by now had become the talk-about item all over town, received an invitation to have an "anniversary dinner and entertainment show" at the Marquis, all expenses paid.

"Hey Ivanna," I said, as soon as the blonde-haired beauty, I had fallen in love with, answered her door, "did you get one of these?" In my hands was an invitation, on official "Marquis" letterhead, inviting the two of us to an all-expenses paid dinner at the only five-star restaurant in town. And it was to coincide with the one-year anniversary of when we first met in the most famous restaurant on the eastern seaboard.

"Yes," exclaimed the blue-eyed former beauty queen, holding up her copy. "I can't believe it. Has it really been a year?" Excitement and more than a little naughtiness exuded from her face. "Do you want to go," she asked, and by the way she said it, I knew Ivanna wanted to.

"Of course, my darling," I laughed. "And I have an idea just who is going to be 'that' entertainment."

This wonderful woman, who had caught my heart, burst into laughter. "Yeah, and we had better start saving money, NOW, for the laundry bill."

That had been four weeks ago, but now as Ivanna, sporting a brand-new diamond engagement ring on the fourth finger of her left hand and wearing a Dolce & Gabbana black lace dress with accompanying La Medusa Naplank Pumps, walked by my side, we stepped across the threshold of the place that held so many delightful memories for us.

The shiny black high-heel shoes created by Vercase, were the perfect complement to the Ruby Pork Pie hat, created by master designer Ruby Roxanne. The Ruby, in black, with a blood red Spanish flower, perched at just the right, or jaunty, angle on Ivanna's head, was the ideal match for a black lace dress. My light gray three-piece suit and gray python-skin boots were an excellent choice alongside Ivanna's all black look.

One year, to this day, Ivanna and I first met, and it was not under the best of circumstances. In fact, more than once, I felt sure my betrothed wanted to kill me.

Now, as Eduard, the Maître D' escorted this newly-engaged couple to our table, one with an excellent view of the entire dining room, the manager made his way toward us. It was the same short, dapper, gentlemen as before, Mr. Harkins. And as usual, he was dressed like he had just stepped out of the pages of Esquire Magazine.

Not wanting to wear out our welcome, Ivanna and I did not make a habit of visiting the Marquis on a regular basis, but we stopped by every other month or so. And true to his word, Mr. Harkins would accept no payment from us. Though we did not repeat our past performance, every trip to the five-star restaurant was always another of a long list of wonderful experiences for Ivanna and me during the year-long courtship.

"Ah, Mr. Roberto and Ms. Ivanna, what a pleasure it is to have you back at the Marquis." While Mr. Harkins, himself, seated Ivanna, a server presented a bottle of Veuve Clicquot, which Eduard, opened with a flourish.

Though many prefer Dom Perignon as the premier champagne, The Marquis has only carried Veuve Clicquot since the day they first opened shoppe in 1912. The old man, a decedent of the original Marquis de La Fayette, always considered those wines from the Reims-based Champagne house to be superior.

"Mr. Harkins, you are too kind to us, sir," I started, but was quickly interrupted.

"Nonsense, my good Roberto," Mr. Harkins interjected with a cheerful wave of his hand. "It is you, and this most wonderful lady, who do us a . . ."

Looking up I saw that the general manager of The Marquis was staring unabashedly at
Ivanna's left hand.

Bowing, Mr. Harkins turned his gaze back toward me. "Mr. Roberto, I did not know. May I offer my congratulations, sir," he said shaking my hand. And then, with a quick bow, Mr. Harkins took Ivanna's hand and gave her one of those kisses like they do in the movies. "Ms. Ivanna, my sincere congratulations. And if I may . . ."

I was looking at the little man, who had become a dear friend to Vonni and myself over the last year, and I saw what looked like a tear form at the corner of one eye.

Wow. He's really . . .

"Ms. Ivanna, Mr. Roberto," he said, turning back to me, "may I offer my most sincere congratulations. And, may I add, it would be an honor, if you would allow the Marquis to host your reception. All expenses, of course, would be on the house.

Suddenly, applause started, first at the tables nearest us, and then throughout the room as word of our good fortune quickly spread.

Now, however, after enjoying a full-course meal that only the finest chefs in the land could have prepared, and a leisurely after-dinner brandy, Hennessey X.O., of course, augmented by a plate of strong cheeses and chocolate-covered bacon, of all things, Ivanna and I slowly made our way to the western, or far side of the dining room. Gossip was abuzz as we strolled to, destiny, perhaps. More than one flash went off as our fellow diners started easing out their cellphones.

As we stopped at the first table, the one that was literally aligned with pies of all sizes, shapes, colors, and vintages, I looked over at Vonni. "Is that the mayor over there," I tilted my head a little toward the right not wanting to point.

"Yeah, with a wife young enough to be his daugher," Ivonna replied in a self-righteous tone. "And I saw two council members in the back corner, with a couple of beautiful women hanging on to their every word. And," she lowered her voice as if we were talking in a conspiratorial manner, "they're not the women they are married to."

After looking around, in as casual a manner possible, I added, " I think I've seen five or six journalists in the crowd, too."

"Yeah, the big three are represented," Vonni replied meaning ABC, NBC, and CBS.

"Well, hell." I said after reflecting on what she had said. "We're about to be world-famous."

Vonni, the most beautiful woman in the world, in my humble opinion, had difficulty snorting down a laugh.

"Ya think!"

Now, as we looked at that table loaded with all sorts of missiles of mess, we saw that everything from humongous flans filled with all sorts of fillings, to single-serve tarts made from the finest fruits available, were spread the length of the table. There were cream pies, custard pies, fruit pies, and you guessed it, my favorite one, the chocolate pudding pie. Each of these, and there were six of them, were filled with the most delectable pudding.

Wow. There must be at least three inches of pudding in each of those.

And perhaps as an aside to my well-known preference, these pudding pies were at the very edge of the table, as if, an invitation for action.

Looking at the other five tables, the sundry supplies of messy mayhem appeared to go up in order of messiness. The next table was aligned with cakes. The third one carried multiple bowls of pudding, from plain vanilla to strawberry, butterscotch, some type of berry, perhaps blueberry, lemon, and of course you guessed it, chocolate. Perhaps in deference to my tastes, as well as that of my fiancé there were two bowls of the latter.

The fourth carried nothing but custard. There were three rows of six 2-liter pitchers each. And each one was filled with custard of a different flavor. The first row carried the standard custard, with its rich yellowish color. In the center, was my favorite, chocolate custard. And against the wall was a third flavor, one that its pinkish look proscribed to be strawberry custard.

The next-to-last table was aligned with more pitchers, this time filled to the brim with chocolate sauce. There appeared to be two flavors among the dozen pitchers, again, of 2-liter, or half a gallon for those of us who hailed from the United States of America. The first row appeared to be milk chocolate, while the back row had a darker look, probably dark chocolate.

And then, there was the last table. And lo and behold, what a sight it was. I could see that Mr. Harkin had spared no expense.

Wow. He must have gone all out. We are going to be so messy when this night is over.

Looking over at Ivanna, whose beautiful face was covered with a look of overwhelming awe, I gave a slight, mischievous grin, before turning back to Mr. Harkin.

On that last table, there were not one, not two, but three towering chocolate fountains each of a different size. The first one, which starting at five feet tall, was the one that I knew from past experience. And looking over at Ivanna, I saw that she still remembered it as well. We both grinned at each other over pleasant memories.

But it was the other two that took our breath away. The second fountain must have been seven feet tall, and the last one was even more impressive, standing at probably about ten feet. Liquid chocolate flowed downward from their tops.

And, again, those wonderful people of The Marquis had left no stone unturned. From the pale color, flowing down the first fountain, it was obvious that white chocolate was used in that one. Milk chocolate must have been next, as that creamy light brown liquid glistened under the spotlights, shining brightly for that purpose, as that stream made its way to the base of the fountain. Last but not least was the granddaddy of them all. The monstrous giant at the end of the table, the ten-footer, gurgled up a really rich, deep, dark chocolate that streamed down, as if a challenge to the two of us. Well, we knew who really was going to be the recipient of that deluge of messy wonder.

Round One

And now, the time had arrived. Mr. Harkins and his staff had withdrawn to join the spectators. It was just Ivanna and me, standing at that first table. The one with the pies.

"Wow." I said, as I drew a deep breath. "I can't believe this is happening, Ivanna."

"Can you?"

She looked at me, with wonder in her eyes. This most beautiful woman, the woman I had fallen in love with, the most perfect of perfect. Ivanna smiled at me; eyes alight as she slowly shook her head. "No," she mouthed the words.

Thank you, God. I don't know what I did to deserve this treasure but THANK YOU!

"What do you think, Vonni," my nickname for her, "should we count one, two, three go!"

I said this as I handed my betrothed, one of those chocolate pies while taking one for myself.

"No honey," she replied, while holding the missile of mayhem in an unthreatening way.

"You go first," Ivanna continued, this time with a slight chuckle in her voice. "I'll have my say, too."

"Don't you worry," she added, this time a mischievous look coming across her face, "I'll be having my say, too."

"Okay," I said, and then with a resounding SPLAT, I popped that first pie into Ivanna's face. She was an instant mess. Chocolate pudding and whipped cream went everywhere, but mostly on her face. You couldn't see anything of Ivanna's face. And most of that beautiful hair received a hefty dose of the pie as it slathered up her forehead and onto the top of her silky blonde hair. Even the designer dress, that Ivanna had worked so hard to afford, took a healthy load of brown muck over the shoulders and down to her cleavage. Vonni scooped as much of the pudding off her face as she could, and then just stood there, holding it, almost as if in a state of shock.

Wow!

"Oops. So sorry about the dress, Ivanna," I said in a not-so-sincere tone.

"Oh, that's alright, Bobby," Vonni said soto voice, just before she gave me a pie sandwich using two big fat custard pies that she had picked up instead of the one I gave her. "Those things happen all the time," the love of my life said, while smearing that mass of retaliation all down my body, from the shoulders to the waist and even down to the groin.

I can't believe that . . . why that little . . .

After briefly groping the man she loved, Ivanna reached around and planted a big brown handprint on each of my buttocks.

Humph . . . That little vixen grabbed my ASS.

As I used the backs of my hands to wipe away much of the yellow goo that covered my face, I was already thinking retaliatory strike,. As I looked over at Ivanna, standing with a big smirk on her face, I couldn't help but remember another night, one year earlier.

So that's how it's going to be. Okay, okay . . . I had something to say back then, and I'll have something to say about this, too.

"My Turn," I exclaimed in a haughty voice, "Let's see what I can find."

Damn . . . can you imagine that little heifer . . . looking so smug. Well, I'll wipe that look off her face.

"Hmnn, no . . . I don't think so," I said as I passed by the custard pies, "they won't do enough to your blond locks. What about this . . .," I said as I viewed a lemon meringue pie. "Nope, that won't do either."

"Ahh," I exclaimed, "Yes these will do . . . they will do very nicely." My eyes had spotted a pair of really big, gooey cherry cream pies. These were on flans, the big cake-like crusts, and so they could hold a ton of slop. The pudding must have been at least three inches deep. And unlike some of the others, there was no whipped cream to dilute the splatter effect that I was hoping to create when I smashed them into Ivanna's head.

As I turned toward my fiancé with one of those monster pies in each hand, I could see the look of trepidation as well as anticipation, perhaps, on the lovely blond-haired beauty.

"Well, well, well," I said as I slowly approached Vonni. "Look what I have?" I chuckled softly.

"Uh, Bobby," my betrothed said as she slowly backed away, "You're not really going to hit me with those enormous pies . . . are you?"

Oh wow, those are REALLY big pies. Where did he find them?

I watched Vonni's eyes, as she looked for a way out.

Going to the left!

SPLAT, followed by another Splat, louder this time.

Gotcha . . . you always go to the left, Vonni. I know you too well. Ha!

Her long golden locks were drenched in pink slop. Although it wasn't an actual pie sandwich, as Vonni dodged at the last minute and I could only hit her with one pie, at first, I still nailed her with both of them, and it was a case of one on each side. Now her face and head were covered with pinkish grime over the brown chocolate goo from the first pie. And as she scraped away the pink pudding from her eyes, Ivanna looked at me with those poor pitiful puppy dog eyes, as if trying to derive some sympathy.

Nope, not gonna work this time.

As she stood there, with her entire upper half, from the tops of those magnificent boobs to the top of her head, splattered with pudding, Ivanna looked like she was made of pink glop with streaks of brown goo mixed in from the first wave. Cherry pudding still flowed down onto her chest, mixing with the left-over chocolate from the earlier assault.

"You realize, this means WAR, now," Ivanna said, when she finally managed to get enough of the muck out of her eyes so she could see me . . . "and I am going to NOOOOOOOOOO!"

While cleaning that glop from her face, Vonni hadn't realized that I snuck around her and picked up one of those large bowls of chocolate pudding.

"Too Late, Darling! Bombs away!" I said, as I turned that bowl over and out came all of that glorious brown muck onto the top of Vonni's head.

Back to square one! Darling!

"You son-of-bit . . .," Vonni bit off the word, as she knew how I felt about it. And I knew Ivanna would never deliberately say something that would hurt my feelings.

But now, as she, once again, tried desperately to clear her vision, I was able to sneak around and get on Ivanna's flank. And I still had half a table full of large, delicious pies.

"Okay, buddy boy, it's my time," Ivanna said, turning to where she thought I was, only to find out she had been outwitted again. "What the . . ., NOOOO!" my beautiful bride-to-be said, turning too late.

And she knew it.

Splat, Splat, Splat, followed by another louder Splat a few seconds later.

Ivanna stood there, completely covered in goo of various colors, and with an absolute look of bewilderment on her face.

I had hit Vonni, in rapid-fire session with three sloppy, gooey pies; a blueberry, followed by a raspberry and then a banana cream pie, before finally, belatedly hitting Ivanna with a chocolate cream flan that had at least four inches of slimy goo in it. She was an absolute mess by the time I finished.

I stood back, kind of to admire the messy state that Ivanna now portrayed, but also because I was afraid, she might suffocate if I didn't let her have a chance to clear the goo from her nose and mouth.

As I stood there, looking at the woman that I loved more than life itself, I thought back to one of the early songs that made Dolly Parton famous, "Coat of Many Colors." Vonni was covered with multi-colored glop from the top of her head almost all the way to her waste. As she stood there, trying, in vain, to clean off as much of that muck as she could, I could feel a stirring in my loins.

Now as Ivanna stood there, hands on hips, with a look that would curdle milk, or even leave a marine corps drill sergeant quivering in his boots, I gave her the biggest smirk, I could.

"I'm going to ki . . .,"

"I know," I said cutting her off, "you are going to kill me."

Again, I was grinning when I said it. "What is that the 48th or 49th time, now, that you are going to kill me."

She stopped and snorted out a half-laugh through all that gunge on her face. "You beat the cake, you know that . . . you know, you're impossible . . . you know that, don't 'cha?"

But at least Ivanna had a grin on her muck-covered face.

"Yeah, I know. But," I added, "that's why you love me so much." This last came with an impish grin.

"You know, 'I must destroy you,'" Vonni said, doing a pretty good imitation of Dolph Lundgren in Rocky 4 as she swept her arm out pointing at all of the mucky mayhem items just waiting to be used.

"Well bring it on, darling, you know the suspense is killing me," I said as I picked up another pair of those delightful chocolate pies. Vonni, in response to my aggressive approach had armed herself with a couple of pies, too, one of which was custard while the other appeared to be a strawberry cream.

Suddenly, Vonni charged. I stepped in. And all science went out the window. That strawberry cream pie crashed into the left side of my face at the same time as I plopped a big gooey chocolate one on top of her head. Ignoring the slimy brown mess that flowed over her features, Ivanna tossed that custard pie into my face. But not before I unerringly placed that other chocolate pie in hers.

Standing there, staring at each other's muck-covered bodies, we suddenly burst out laughing. Then it was on again.

Round Two:

Time for round two, I thought, or is it rounds two, three, four and five all rolled into one. And then the first pies started flying.

We both threw pies as fast as we could. In less than a minute, Vonni and I had emptied that entire table of all those pies. I used the rest of those chocolate ones on Ivanna adding to the layer of messy brown gunk over her face and head. I even plopped one on her breasts, though it was purely accidental. Vonni, loving the custard pies, nailed me pretty good with the yellowish goo. Then there were the rest of the pies. None were spared, including those small fruit tarts. When it was over, we were completely covered with messy goo, of all colors, all the way down to our knees.

Stopping to take a breather, we rested, standing there, leaning against each other. After appraising Vonni for a brief instance, I said, "Well I think I won that round, but not by much."

Looking at me, with mirth in her eyes, Ivanna said, "In a pig's ass. I won!"

"The hell you say," I retorted, "anyone can see you are much messier than I am."

"Am not," the fiery spitfire came back as she stuck out her tongue, "you are so much muckier than me."

I laughed at that. "Muckier, muckier you say, is that even a word," I spit out between chuckles.

But while we were talking, I had been elusively, moving toward that second table.

Hmm . . . I don't think she has caught on.

With a quick step, I had my hands on that second bowl of chocolate pudding. Turning I saw that Ivanna was just now realizing her peril.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" she all but screamed as Ivanna saw that bowl descending and all of that chocolate muck flowing toward her face.

This time, the pudding hit like a tidal wave.

Hmm . . . they must have stirred this pudding. It pours like a river flowing down from a mountain lake.

Another round of gooey slop streamed down onto Vonni's head and face. It's hard to believe she could have gotten any messier, but I do believe this bowl did the trick. And I was wrong with my first estimations. I think there were at least four, if not five gallons of pudding in the bowl.

Ivanna just stood there, dumbfounded, and took the mess. There really wasn't anything she could have done, or anywhere she could go.

As she licked her lips, after the deluge finally ended, Ivanna, getting a good taste of that chocolate pudding, looked at me and petulantly said, "I hate you."

Laughingly I replied, "I bet you say that to all the boys."

Vonni tried to hold in a chuckle but instead a bunch of brown snot shot out from her nostrils.

Shit . . . why do I always fall for that crap. "Well, just keep it up buddy boy. We'll see who has the last laugh. I'm going to let you have . . . "

"Still think you're winning, Vonni?" I said with a deep chuckle.

"Ok," she said, as Ivanna slowly nodded her head while trying to wipe some of the gunge from her face, "I will cede that round to you."

"But" my muck-covered love said slowly, "this is a long way from being over."

Oh yeah, it is a long way from being over, buddy boy. A long way.

"Well, what are you waiting for, Vonni?" I said, pointing toward that table of delicious puddings. "Let's see, I count four, no five . . . five more bowls of pudding."

And then with a big wink, I added, "What are YOU going to let me have?"

"Oh my, aren't you being so generous, Roberto," the love of my life said in a mocking tone, "are you going to let little 'ole me pour some pudding over your head? Are you really going to be that nice to me?"

"You know, Vonni," I replied, "sarcasm really doesn't become you!" But I was smiling when I said it.

"Vanilla, you picked vanilla pudding. Is that your best?"

As she held that big bowl of pudding high in the air, Ivanna smiled so sweetly, "well if you hadn't used up BOTH of the bowls of chocolate pudding, I could have used one on you."

"Yeah, but you know I hate vanilla," I whined, "couldn't you have picked something else?"

"Well, alright, then," Vonni said with a big sigh. Then, before I could say anything else, that little winch grabbed my pants with her left hand and then started pouring all of that cold, cold vanilla pudding down my pants. I'll tell you this, it was a juggling act, almost comical watching her try to keep my pants open with one hand while holding that heavy bowl of pudding and directing the pour with the other. I would have been laughing my ass off if I hadn't been the recipient of that dastardly dead.

"Oh Shitttttt!" I cried out, "that is so fucking cold."

But Vonni just kept pouring and laughing and pouring some more. Finally, she gave up trying to keep my pants open and started smearing the rest of the pudding on the outside of my trousers. When it was all over, those slacks were no longer gray, as they carried a messy load of vanilla pudding all over them.

Those trousers were bulging from all of that pudding, but if it weren't for the extremely cold nature of that mess, my pants would have been bulging from something else, if you get my drift.

Before I could say anything, Ivanna said, with a sarcastic snear, "but I did pick something else, darling, I really did."

And she says I'm mean.



Round Three:

A chair came sliding across the floor before I could respond to my fiancé's snide comment. It must have slid at least thirty feet before coming to a stop not more than six inches from my left leg. How it managed to stay upright is beside me. I don't know who pushed it my way, but I got the hint.

What . . . what the . . ., I quickly scanned the crowd but did not see who had launched that chair.

Hmm. I wonder . . . what, . . . oh I see, yes . . . I do indeed, see.

A wicked little grin came quickly to my mouth. And Ivanna caught that out of the corner of her eye.

What the hell is he up to . . .,

"Darling," I said turning to Ivanna, "you look tired, why don't you have a seat?" I pointed to that chair, a plain non-descript, red and white, vinal-coated seat on a chrome frame, which I had managed to plant in between the second and third tables. The third table is the one that was loaded with all the cakes.

Knowing how much I loved chocolate, it seemed as if Mr. Harkins had arranged for every other cake to be chocolate. And some of them were quite large.

Again, it seemed as if he was reading my mind, for the cake nearest the end of the table, was also, the biggest. It was a square three-layered monstrosity of almost two full feet to the side. Talk about chocolate. They must have piled on a full two inches of chocolate-flavored buttercream frosting on that sucker. And judging by the thickness, Mr. Harkin's bakers must have really loaded it with a lot of ganache. It just reeked of decadence.

Looking over at the table, Ivanna must have sensed what was coming next.

Oh shit. Nope. Not gonna do that. Uh uh. Oh fuck!.

"I think I'll stand, Bobby. I'm not really tired," Vonni said, with an almost sick look on her face.

"No dear. You look really tired," I said with a sense of urgency in my voice, "I think you need to sit down."

I picked up that large cake, and held it where she could see it, I carefully laid all of that gooey chocolate on the chair.

"Come dear. Have a seat."

"I'm really not tired, honey," Ivanna said, while seeming to be mesmerized by the size of that chocolate cake sitting on the chair, beckoning for her nice rear end.

"Oh, but I insist sweetheart. I wouldn't want you to fall and injure yourself due to fatigue. Please have a seat."

"I INSIST, Vonni."

Ivanna, knowing that command tone of voice, did not brook interference.

"Yes, Bobby," she finally said after a long sigh.

Slowly, as if finally making up her mind to do something really distasteful, Ivanna turned toward that chair, put her back to it, and then . . . sat down, hard, on that cake.

A loud squelching sound came, almost like someone passing gas, as chocolate squirted out in all directions, some even splattering my trousers, as I was too close to her. When she stood up, Vonni looked back at the huge brown mess on the back of her dress. Lifting the mucky dress up just far enough, she looked at the messy brown stain on the back of her brand-new lace panties and then gave me a really, really, dirty look.

"THERE, are you happy now!" Ivanna exclaimed sharply.

Oh shit. She's pissed.

"Honey, I'm sorry," I said contritely, I didn't . . ."

Sploooochhhhh. I didn't see that Vonni had secretly picked up a cake of her own. I felt it now, as all of that chocolate cake, mousse and frosting smashed into my face.

And she wasn't content to leave it at that. That little she-devil drove it in hard, filling my nostrils with chocolate goo, before driving it up over my face and to the top of my head.

As the cake disintegrated into a messy glob of brown gunk, my future wife, the woman that I loved more than life itself, my best friend, took a double handful of that muck and shoved it down into my pants, already so full of pudding. And she really ground it in.

"Oh my . . .," I started, but then stopped, to look down at the mess in my pants. I was panting now, as my nostrils were so clogged with brown gunk that I had to breathe through my mouth. I started coughing, trying to clear my throat of ingested glop.

As I bent over to one knee, Vonni rushed up, concern on her face, "Bobby, are you okay."

I pinched my nose, trying to blow snot out so I could breathe again.

Tears streaked down my muck-covered cheeks as I tried to blow out all of that muck in my nose.

"Oh shit . . . what have I done?" Vonni looked devastated.

"Bobby, I am so sorry . . .what can I do?"

It took about a minute before I could really breath again, and even then, still not normally. I was feeling a little light-headed but started to regain my equilibrium.

"Oh honey, I am so sorry."

Yeah, but not as sorry as you are going to be. Ha!

"It's okay baby," I whispered, just before pouring that bowl of strawberry pudding over Vonni's head.

She hadn't been paying attention to my antics as I moved toward the table with the puddings on it.

"Shit, what the, shit . . . you fucking bas . . ."

Vonni, now wearing several gallons of pinkish pudding over her head and the tops of her shoulders stopped in mid-sentence. She knew how I felt about certain words and phrases.

"NEXT," I shouted in a loud voice.

"WHAT," Ivanna looked up just in time to take that bowl of lemon pudding right in her face. And since she was in the middle of a sentence, my sweetheart ingested a fair amount of the yellow delicacy.

As Vonni stood there, hacking up some of the pudding, while trying to clear her vision with the palms of her hands, I was busy working on number three.

"AGAIN!"

"Whaaaat," Vonni didn't even try to look up this time, just meekly taking the contents of the bowl of 'blue' berry pudding. By now, three colors of liquid muck were running down Ivonna's body, in all directions. She was a total mess.

Ivanna was a complete wreck, and the crowd, whose roaring approval had been steadily climbing, were cheering loudly and with enthusiastic abandon. It seemed as if every single person in that room had a cellphone, and they all were snapping photograph after photograph.

I looked down at a Vonni, who was still in a state of shock. And I knew payback was going to be a bitch.

Oh boy. Well, I would say, payback is going to be a real bitch. Whenever she can regain her senses, that is.



Round Four:

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, but was probably about three minutes, my adorable fiancé stood up. Then she looked at me. Let me tell you this, I felt like the temperature in that room had dropped about 40 degrees. If looks could kill, I would be dead, buried and already decomposing.

Wow. Oh wow, she is seriously pissed this time . . Shit!

Now, as my Vonni stood there and stared icy/hot daggers of venom at me, I couldn't even begin to describe what she looked like. Except that she resembled a walking swamp creature of multiple colors. I could barely breath as I watched her move toward me.

"Wipe that grin off your face, buddy boy," Ivanna spit out. That was all she said, at first. I knew there would be a lot more later.

Coming to a stop, with her toes literally standing on mine. Ivanna turned her smoldering eyes toward me. Even amongst all that glop covering her face, I could read those eyes.

"Now . . . I really hate you," she said with acid tumbling off each word. "Now, I will REALLY kill you," each syllable literally dripping poison as she slowly enunciated them.

"Uh, I'm sor . . .," I started to say.

"SHUT UP!"

By now, the applause had pretty much ground to a halt as the people in the room started to sense that something was amiss.

"SIT DOWN!" she said, when I tried to apologize again.

I shut up. I sat down. I bowed my head in remorse.

Oh shit. What have I done! I am so sorry . . .

"Uh oh," I said quietly to myself as I saw where Ivanna was heading.

Yeah, like I said, payback is REALLY going to be a bitch.

Looking back at me, Ivanna stopped at the fourth table, the one loaded with all those pitchers of custard. She picked up two of those 2-liter monstrosities of mess and started back to me. These had the plain, or yellow, custard. Stopping at the table nearest me, she set them down. Then, with a finger over her lips, to shush me, she returned to that table for more messy mayhem. This time it was the chocolate custard she brought back. And the third trip resulted in another two 2-liter pitchers of messy ammunition, strawberry flavored custard.

I gulped when I saw all that liquid mess. There were six 2-liter pitchers, or three gallons of liquid mess. And I knew what was going to happen to me.

But I didn't say a word. I didn't wine or cry. I knew I had it coming. And so did everyone else in the room.

Finally, and I emphasize this because Ivanna took her own sweet time in setting up everything just right, my betrothed, and I was really sweating bullets about that, picked up the first pitcher, one of those with chocolate custard in it. She looked me squarely in the eye and then, winked at me. "I know how muuuuuuch you like chocolate, my darling."

Why that little winch, acting like she was sore at me this entire time . . . Why I ought to . . .,

My thought process came to a screeching halt as Vonni started pouring that mess over my head. After completely saturating my entire scalp, thus ensuring all of my hair was covered, my best friend tilted my head so my face could become her next target. And she didn't skimp on the mess. When she finished that first pour, my entire head was covered with slimy brown gunge. I was a mess, but I knew this was only the beginning. Or as that master of the oratorical word, Winston Churchill once said, "This was not the end. It was not even the beginning of the end. But it was the end of the beginning."

Now the love of my life started playing it up for the audience. And they loved it. Setting down that first pitcher of malicious mayhem, Ivonna had lifted another one; this was one of the strawberry custards.

"Shall I," Vonni said to the crowd while leering wickedly at me.

"YES!" was the resounding answer from our group of merry onlookers.

"Sorry, darling," my best friend said to me, "but the masses must be appeased!"

Oh shit, I'm really in for it now.

This time, she continued the pour, starting with my face, quickly covering it with pink custard, before streaming the liquid goo over the top of my head, leaving a running line in the center of my scalp from front to back. When she was done, I looked like I had a pink mohawk cut in the center surrounded by a sea of chocolate on the outside. Then Ivanna returned her attention to my face, and all but obliterated it with the final rendition of that pitcher.

Shit. I've still got four more to go.

As she set that second pitcher down, the crowd were on their feet, shouting "MORE, MORE!"

And Vonni was eating it up.

"Well, we mustn't disappoint them, darling, must we," Ivanna smiled sweetly as she picked up the first of those yellow custard pitchers.

"What was it you airborne guys always said," Vonni was really getting into this. Oh yeah, "stand up, hook up, shuffle to the door; gonna jump out and count to FOUR!" she said with a laugh as my sweetheart picked up a second pitcher of the yellow delight known as custard.

OH shit! I'm really in for it now!

And now, the woman that I loved more than life itself, stood over me, straddled me, and actually sat in my lap. Then she started pouring that liquid mess over my head.

Now, Ivanna was probably getting about as much mess as I was because it was hitting my head and then splattering outward and onto the upper part of her dress. The contrast couldn't have been clearer, what with all the yellow glop splattering on the blue gunge that had saturated her dress. She was getting her fair share. And Vonni loved it. The crowd was roaring, flashes were going off as dozens upon dozens of cell phone cameras recorded the festivities for posterity.

When she finished, the front half of Ivanna was covered in yellow goo, while I was a big blob of yellow mess. And one other thing. I had a massive hard-on.

Oh shit. Damn. I can't get up now. Everybody will see my state of . . . oh shit. Why did you have to do that, Vonni?

When she got up, Ivanna took her own sweet time, grinding her hips into my lap, as she could feel my heightened alertness, if you get my drift.

Why that little bi . . . she did that deliberately. She even ground her ass into my . . . knowing what that would do.

As Ivanna stood to a standing ovation, I tried to clear that goo out of my eyes, but every time I would wipe them, more glop would just flow down from my forehead and it was back to square one. And then to make it worse, she said, "Get up, sweetheart."

Oh shit. No. Not that. Please don't . . .

But my look of dismay was not having any effect upon Ivanna. She wasn't cutting me any slack. She was bound and determined to humiliate me as much as humanly possible.

"Get up, Bobby . . . Stand up, BOBBY!" Ivanna wasn't budging an inch. "Now, Bobby!"

You're breaking my heart, Baby.

But I did what she told me to do. I stood up.

It didn't take the people closest to our little stage of entertainment very long to notice. It wasn't like you could fail to notice. Now, everyone remained silent. And no one was taking pictures anymore.

Either Ivanna failed to notice the subtle change in her audience's mood, or she just didn't care. My dear sweet Vonni was bound and determined to heap on another level of humiliation.

"My, my. Look what we still have left," Vonni said, while pointing at those other two pitchers of custard.

"Why, whatever will we do with them," Ivanna said, all the while looking at my messy crotch and that big bulge in it.

"Oh shit. I just hung my head. My humiliation was complete. I knew what was coming next.

As she stood me up, and turned me to the audience, I saw shock start to register on some of the faces. Everyone was silent now.

"Let's see," Ivanna giggled, as she pulled back my shirt, and held open my pants. "There, that ought to do it," Vonni said, and then she started the pour, chocolate this time.

"Oh shit," I cried as all that cold, so cold, custard hit my private parts. "Oh no. Stop, please . . ."

But she wasn't listening. Ivanna wasn't buying into my cries of distress.

Oh shit . . . probably shouldn't have . . . oh what the hell. There's nothing I can do now.

The only good thing, I can honestly say, about that deluge of chocolate gunge in my underwear was that I no longer had that problem of the bulge. Let's just say I did not have any romantic thoughts at all right then.

But my little domestic terror, wasn't through quite yet. As brown gunge trickled down the front of my trouser legs, Ivanna quickly turned me around and lowered my pants so she could give me a repeat on my backside, this time with strawberry custard. Vonni pulled out the tops of my 'tightie whities' and started pouring that pink slop. And she really took her sweet-ass time.

After finishing off the last of those pitchers of custard, Ivanna looked around to see what else she could use against me.

Oh Vonni, how could you do this to me. I have never done anything that mean to you. And with everyone in the room watching . . . why?

Then she picked up one of those gi-normous chocolate cakes and smashed it into my face. And she made sure to grind it in just like she had before. To say I was a mess would be a euphemism. With all of that liquid goo already on my face, the addition of the chocolate cake, chocolate mousse and chocolate buttercream frosting just about completely obliterated my face. At least this time, the angle wasn't as bad, so I did not get any of the muck up my nostrils. Still, I was a wreck.

"Still think you're winning, Bobby?" Ivanna asked in her sweetest voice ever.

But I didn't reply. There was nothing to say.

"Turn around," Vonni said, with a wicked grin upon her gunge-covered lips.

I dutifully turned around.

As I watched, Ivanna placed a chocolate cake on the chair.

"Sit down." And again, I dutifully complied.

Squiiiish, a loud squishing noise was heard by those nearest us, as that cake collapsed and smooshed all around my butt.

Now, I was livid.

Payback is not going to be a bitch, this time, Bitch. It's going to be a BASTARD. And I'm the one that's going to be administering It!

Ivanna stood me up, turned me around to where my rear was facing the crowd of onlookers, and then she finished me off with a loud slap on the back of my underwear, causing an explosion of pink goo to fly everywhere. Some of that pink mist even hit Vonni in the face. As she stood there, licking the custard off her gunge-stained lips, my former, perhaps, best friend looked around at the people surrounding us.

There was total silence. You could have heard a pin drop. No cell phone was snapping photographs. There were looks of horror on many of those nearest us. Ivanna, I think, finally realized she had lost the crowd's sympathy.

"Uh . . . oh, I'm . . . uh, I'm . . . so sorry, I'm . . . so sorry . . . Bobby," Vonni said as she hurriedly lifted my pants and secured them with my belt. "I'm so sorry," she whispered in my clogged right ear.

Alright, Vonni, you've had your fun, but now it's my time. You think you had it bad before . . . that was nothing compared to what I will do you NOW.

To say I was messy would be an understatement. I was really messed up. I was covered in muck from head to toe. The insides of my pants were filled with slimy goo that was dripping out the bottom of each trouser leg. My nostrils were still, at least partially, stopped up with gunk. My hearing was gone, as both ear canals had long since become filled with pie, cake, and custard slop. I could hardly see, as the gunk from my head kept dribbling down into my eyes every time, I got them cleared. Oh, I was a mess alright. I was a big mess.

As I stood there, dripping muck of all kinds, my clothes ruined beyond repair, I staired at the woman of my dreams. Or at least she had been. Was it my fault? Had I been too harsh with her? Did I bring this all on myself?



Round Five:

So, as I stood there, all kinds of thoughts racing through my head, a chant started from the crowd of onlookers. Faint at first, it rose in decibel, as more and more of the partygoers joined in. I didn't understand it in the beginning. But then the words started to register.

"Do it. Do it. Do it." Over and over, they kept saying the same thing. And I got it. More importantly, Ivanna got it. She had this sick look on her face. I mean, you couldn't really see Vonni's face from all the muck. It was just an expression of sick resignation, of helplessness. She looked so dejected. I almost felt sorry for her. Almost!

At first, I didn't do anything. I was sick, too. I was so devastated from the entire thing. I felt like I just wanted to walk out, find some hole in the ground, crawl in it, and never come out.

Finally, after a couple minutes, I turned to the crowd. I stuck out a hand, just one hand, my right one, palm open to the crowd. I didn't say a word, but they got the message. The chant died down until there was absolute silence. Now everyone looked at me, to see what I was going to do.

Ivanna stood there, still covered in goo, herself. But she couldn't look at me. Vonni's head was down, I could almost hear silent sobs coming from her heart.

And then, very softly, so softly I doubt if anyone except Ivanna heard, I said, "you win."

As her head popped up, surprise filled Ivanna's eyes. She was biting her lip, a thing Vonni always did when something perplexed her.

"You win, baby. I am muckier than you," I said, with muck streaming down from my lips. "You win."

Emotions played across Ivanna's face. I didn't really know what they were. Nor did I care at the time. I was so emotionally spent.

"You win!" Those words echoed in my brain. Finally, I said, "Vonni, please sit down." And I think she knew, in that instance, what was going to happen. And I saw a look of relief cross from one end of her tortured face to the other.

Ivanna's eyes, until then, pleading for forgiveness, now said something else. They were welcoming eyes. They said, "do it!"

As Ivanna sat down, I went to get the first instrument of messy payback. On that table, the next to last one, there were only twelve items. But they were ones I really liked. There were twelve pitchers, each holding two liters of chocolate sauce. Half of those pitchers were filled with the lighter, or milk chocolate, variety while the others had dark chocolate.

As I picked up that first pitcher, it almost seemed as if every living soul in that room had taken in a deep breath and held it. The phrase "quiet as a mouse" comes to mind. When I stood in front of Vonni, with that pitcher held high, ready to do its messy dance, I looked into her beautiful eyes, and saw . . . I don't know what I saw. But it was as if she were welcoming me for the first time. A long slow smile played across Ivanna's gunge-covered lips, and then she tilted her head back, ever so slightly, to insure a nice even flow that would cover her face.

And then, I started to pour.

Those first six pitchers, the ones with the milk chocolate, took a long time to empty because I took my own sweet time, pouring them, ever so slowly. As one pitcher would be emptied, I picked up another. Soon brown goo was running down Ivanna's head, covering her face, then her shoulders, before finally cascading down over her boobs and pooling in her lap.

But only for a moment as that area quickly filled and then overflowed. Liquid chocolate spilled over and onto the floor, which quickly became saturated with muck, thus becoming very slippery.

Time after time I repeated the process, six times in all. And with each new pouring, Ivanna became even messier as more and more chocolate found its way onto her beautiful body. It's hard to believe that any one human being could become that mucky, that gunge-covered, until you've watched it unfold directly in front of you. As I looked down on my messy creation, after the final drop fell from the last pitcher, I saw a woman who was so drenched in chocolate goo as to be completely unrecognizable. From head to toe, my Vonni was covered in an undulating sea of light brown, the color of milk chocolate. And it was still flowing off her like a spring flood back home.

But during all that messy pour, during all that mass humiliation, during that complete degradation, Vonni never said a word. She never moved, not once. She sat there, and she took it all.

The last six pitchers of dark brown grime went a little faster. Rather than pour these, I dumped their entire contents all at once. I picked up each pitcher, one at a time, raised them over Vonni's head, and then quickly turned them over. Six very loud splashes, or splats, were heard in short order, each time followed by a series of lesser intense, pitter-patter sounds as smaller splashes of residual goo kept falling. And with each splash, my dear sweet Vonni became more and more muckier.

Muckier . . . I still don't know if that is a word, but hey, it works.

After that last droplet fell from the remaining pitcher, Ivanna looked as messed up as I was, probably more so. Her dress was completely saturated, the low crop of her bodice had taken so much damage from the liquid mayhem inflicted upon it, that it barely gave support for Ivanna's larger than average breasts.

Well, I guess it's a good thing for Vonni that she's wearing a bra tonight. Or that could be a little embarrassing for her. I thought back to my predicament just a handful of minutes before.

I helped Ivanna wipe her eyes of all that mucky goo. But no sooner than we got one layer of mire out of them, did another flow down from her sodden mass of hair that had been so beautifully styled less than an hour before.

I could see how cold Ivanna was. By the time that last drop fell, from those twelve pitchers, twenty-four liters, over six gallons of liquid mess, my baby, my sweetheart, the love of my life, was so drenched in brown slime, that she was unrecognizable. And I knew how cold she was because I had just gone through the same thing.

"I am so . . . sorry, Bobby," I could see Vonni's eyes get all misty. So, I took her hand.

"It's okay, baby," I said, as I gently kissed her. "I love you more than life itself."

As she responded, Ivanna, kissed me long, and hard, before gazing into my eyes. "Me too, oh so do I, Bobby. You are . . . my everything." And then, as she stopped to wipe some more of that chocolate glop that was running into her eyes, Vonni leaned in close to my ear, and whispered, "I love you, too, more than life itself."

Though I could barely make out the words through my hearing-impaired ear, I knew what she was saying. And now as I looked into the sparkling eyes of the most beautiful woman in the world, I smiled.

Ha I know it's hard to believe that considering the state of her looks,

And then she smiled. And I knew everything was back to where it belonged. The world was right, again, and we had survived the ugliness that was thrown at us. I knew, in that moment, that everything would always be alright between us. As I kissed my fiancé, lightly on her lips, I whispered, "one more thing, baby." And her eyes said it all, "bring it on."

There were no pies left on that first table. Absolutely none! And I never cared for butterscotch, so that left out the one remaining bowl of pudding on the next table. Since I really didn't care for custard, of any flavor, the fourth table had no interest for me. That left the third one. And there were still several cakes on that table, but the ones that had my interest were the last two triple layer, chocolate cakes filled with ganache, and topped off with a couple inches of dark chocolate buttercream frosting.

Oh yeah. These should do nicely.

As I walked back to my betrothed, she took one look at those cakes, one in each hand, and then a huge grin broke out across her goo-drenched features. Followed shortly thereafter by one on my muck-smeared face.

As I carefully maneuvered, due to the slick floor, to the right side of Vonni I moved within inches of the woman I loved. The love of my life looked over at me, saw how I was holding those cakes, and then gave me a smile that would light up the entire room, followed by a long slow wink. Then she closed her eyes.

SPLAT! It wasn't a pie sandwich, no, it was a Cake Sandwich. And Vonni caught it full on. This wasn't your normal sandwich where you hit the target on both sides of the head. What I did was smash that first cake into her beautiful face with my right hand, and then, using my left, I planted the second one into the back of Ivanna's head. With those cakes sitting out longer than earlier ones, the mousse had more time to soften and become even gooier. And the buttercream on top of the all-chocolate cakes was just waiting to do it's messy dance on my target.

Those cakes just, basically, exploded on contact. As I was looking at Vonni's face, I immediately saw the damage done to her features. Although she was still dripping liquid chocolate from all over her head, the bomb that detonated against the center of the most beautiful face in the world, immediately froze that. Her face was transformed into this surreal mosaic of semi-fluid/semi-gunk dark chocolate substance. To me, and probably every male viewer in that room, it was the most erotic thing ever seen.

And the back of her head where that blob of disgusting gunk obliterated the last strands of a beautiful hairstyle, in one brief instance, the view was just about as mesmerizing.

Well, that's $200 down the drain, as I though about Ivanna's trip to the beauty salon earlier in the day

And then, as everyone watched, I knelt in about two inches of mucky glop on the floor, leaned over and placed my face very carefully in front of Ivanna's. With a gentle caress from my hands, I wiped away the worst of the muck that was gluing her eyes shut, then licked away the rest.

"Ivanna," I said softly.

Coming to life, my fiancé slowly opened her eyes, blinking them to clear the residue. Looking at me, kneeling there, she smiled. And then I kissed her. And she kissed back.

That room exploded in a loud and rousing, standing ovation. No one was taking pictures, that would come later. Everyone was clapping as loudly as possible.

As we stood there, well, actually as Ivanna sat in that chair, and I knelt in front of her, a feeling of arousal swept over us. As my kisses became more passionate, she responded likewise.

Our little, okay, maybe not so little, crowd of followers were now watching our exhibition, barely breathing. Nobody was snapping photos anymore.

Finally, I opened my eyes. Ivanna opened hers. I smiled at her. Vonni's return grin was more than enough to send my heart soaring. I turned toward that last table, then looked back at my sweetheart.

"Shall we, darling?"

"Yes. Oh yes," she licked her chocolate covered lips, in anticipation. "Let's do it, darling."

I stopped, after one step, though, and turned, first to Ivanna, and then looking back, back to the previous table. The one with custard on it.

"Come Vonni," I said as I pulled her toward that fourth table. As we looked down at the mess left behind, I turned to the love of my life.

"Hey Vonni. You know how I hate to waste perfectly good chocolate," I said, eying those four pitchers of chocolate custard, "what do you say?"

It only took Ivanna one heartbeat to respond, "Yes. Do it!"

As my sweetheart stood there with the biggest smile I had ever seen, I picked up the first of those instruments of messy delight. And in the next breath, I started pouring it over her head.

Custard is thicker than chocolate sauce, so that stream of brown mucky mess really left an imprint on an already saturated Ivanna. But soon enough, that first pitcher was empty as the river of chocolate muck slowly maneuvered over her face and breasts before falling to the floor. And Ivanna became just that much more muckier.

As I picked up the next pitcher an idea came to me. Stepping up even closer to my future bride, I lightly grasped the neckline of Vonni's ruined Dolce & Gabbana dress, and then looking Ivanna in the eye, I gently whispered, "May I?"

As her eyes danced, Ivanna's lips mouthed the word, Yes!

More than a few gasps came from our audience of onlookers, as they perceived what I was about to do. But not from my Vonni. As I prepared to do the dastardly deed, my baby calmly roled her neck, arched her back, rounded her shoulders, and gave me the biggest shit-eating grin you have ever seen. And then, I started the pour.

As that slowly undulating river of brown muck cascaded down upon, around, and over Ivaana's beautiful breasts, she took in a sharp gasp as that cold flow played with the nerve endings on her nipples, engendering a sexual response akin to that which I had experienced a short time before. Finally, however, gravity could no longer hold back that torrent of mucky mess, and pretty soon, the chocolate was overflowing around Vonni's boobs, and the stream continued down her chest, over her flat belly and then down to where her panties had already been covered with previous amounts of dripping goo. Finally, just as a torrent rushes over the edge of the precipice, and forms a water fall, this round of liquid, too, fell as it raced off her hips and down her legs. It took almost a full minute, from the time the last drop of liquid chocolate exited that pitcher, until the final blobs of mucky mess finished flowing.

I looked down Ivanna's dress, at the mess left behind. And all I can say is, "Wow."

Picking up the third pitcher, I gently turned my betrothed so her back was to the crowd. Blocking their view, with my body, I slowly lifted the hem of Ivanna's dress to just level with her waist. I smiled, so gently, as I looked into Vonni's eyes, then looked down to where her brand-new fancy lace panties, already coated in grime, covered her most private parts. And then I looked back at her, a silent request for permission. And she understood.

Vonni didn't say a word, but the look of naughtiness that crossed her muck-covered face was all I needed. Then without another word, Ivanna took hold of her panties, with both hands, and pulled them out so there was plenty of room for the pour. Then with an almost hidden wink and a just barely perceived nod, Ivanna whispered, "Do It!"

Ivanna sucked in her breath, and shivered when that first stream of messy muck hit her treasured area, and I could commiserate with her, as I remembered my first encounter of the cold gunk on my prized jewels. Finally, and I took a full minute to empty that pitcher of chocolate custard into Vonni's panties, the pour ended when the last drop of gooey glop had finished its downward descent onto Vonni's most intimate parts.

When it was all done, Ivanna just stood there, gasping for breath, shivering, almost uncontrollably until I took her in my arms. Setting the empty pitcher down, I held Vonni against my chest, for warmth. I could feel her muck-covered breasts against my body, sexually-charged nipples poking into my skin almost as if they were miniature stilletos. And I'm sure she could feel my throbbing badge of manhood pressed against her belly. Then we kissed. Oh it was so sweet, so delightful, and once again, the mob behind us let out a rousing round of applause as they saw our love for each other unfold. Now the cameras came out again, and flashes by the dozens started going off, over and over.

And then, finally, there was that last pitcher of mess. As I picked up that final instrument of chocolate mess, I gently turned Vonni sideways to the audience. And then I stepped in close, real close, to the woman I loved more than life itself. Holding that pitcher high above Vonni's head, I guided her hand to where she, too, could grasp it. I don't know if she realized what was going to happen next, or if she just intuitively grasped what happened next, but as I started the pour, I kissed Ivanna, and held tight as her tongue darted halfway down my throat, all the while pouring that chocolate gunge over both of our faces. And the crowd exploded. in all my life, I have never heard a more lively audience than the one we had that night, at that point in time.

We stood there, long after the last drop of chocolate custard had flowed down over us. We kissed, and kissed, for, it seemed like forever. When that final drop of chocolate gunge hit the floor, we, at last, came up for air.

"I love you, Vonnie," I said as we embraced. "Me too," her eyes said it before Ivanna whispered those words into my ear.

And then, it was on to the last round.


Round Six:

As we stood, hand in hand, at that last table and looked at those beautiful fountains, each pouring down its own distinctive kind of liquid chocolate, Mr. Harkins walked over. This time it was hard to read his expression. It was almost like he was upset, perplexed, and relieved all at once.

"Ah Mr. Roberto, Ms. Ivanna . . . is everything alright?"

"Never better, Mr. Harkins," I replied looking over at Vonni whose smile was so large and genuine, now. "Never better!"

"I . . . am so relieved, then," the small man stated, and it looked like the weight of the whole world had been lifted off his shoulders, like he was a modern-day Atlas and Hercules had just taken the world from his back.

"I thought, maybe I had really messed everything up when I saw, the two of you . . . well I am so sorry I almost caused a breakup. Please forgive me."

Before I could reply, Ivanna broke contact, and walked up to the general manager of The Marquis. She reached out and almost grabbed the impeccably dressed manager. Almost, but not quite, as she stopped and looked down at her muck-covered dress and grinned. So, instead, she leaned forward and without touching him, gave our friend a light, friendly kiss on his cheek, leaving just a slight smear of chocolate behind.

"No, it is we, or maybe I should say it is I, that owe you a debt of gratitude which I will never be able to repay." She stopped talking, and as I walked up to them, I saw tears streaming down Vonni's face. Finally, as she regained control of her emotions, the woman that I loved more than life itself, turned to look at me, but continued speaking to Mr. Harkins. "It is I that owe you, Mr. Harkins."

And then my love, my sweetheart, my betrothed, continued speaking, but I knew these words were for me.

"You see, Bobby. I still had my doubts." Vonni stopped for just a few seconds. "Even after you put that ring on my finger, even after I said, 'yes' I still didn't know if it would work." Now she stepped away from me, just a few feet, but as she stepped over to that last table, Ivanna stopped once again, and looked at me. "I wanted it to work so desperately, Bobby. And yet, I was so afraid it couldn't. I've never had one relationship that did not end badly, and if I am being honest with myself, it has always been my fault."

Tears were streaming down her chocolate-soaked cheeks again. Now there was a quiver in her voice, as I stepped over to her, to the love of my life, and took hold of her.

"Bobby, I love you so much, and I am so sorry for what I did to you."

I guess the tears were coming down my cheeks too, as I held my Vonni in my arms while she cried her heart out.

"I love you, too, Vonni. More than life itself. And I now know, beyond any doubt, that everything will work out for us." I said this as I gently lifted her face and kissed her. As I wiped the tears away, I kissed my Vonni even more. And then she responded in the only way two people in love could.

And the crowd, once again, went wild. Stamping their feet in unison as they shouted with joy.

"Mr. Harkins," I said, turning to the little man, once again, "how is that really big one going to work. I don't know if I can handle the weight."

"Oh, we thought of that, Mr. Roberto," the little manager said coming around to our side of the table. "Do you see those cables running from each of the four corners. They are attached to pulleys going up into the ceiling. All you have to do is pull down on this cord," he said, while pointing to the first of four woven cords of about an inch in thickness. "It will tilt the fountain as far as you need for the chocolate to start pouring."

"The same apparatus has been added to that fountain," Mr. Harkins stated while pointing toward the middle fountain, "we didn't figure you needed any help with the smaller one."

Now, that everything was back to normal, Mr. Harkins, our new friend, was carrying the smile of smiles.

"Is there anything else that we can do for you," he said as he looked at Ivanna and myself.

I looked over at Ivanna and flashed a quick smile her way. "No, Mr. Harkins, I think we've got it."

Turning back to him, I said, "Thank you for everything, Sir!"



And then, it was just the two of us, "Vonni," I said, as we stood at the front of that last table. Mr. Harkins and all of his staff had pulled back as had those in the audience who had crowded in for a better look.

"Yes baby, it's just the two of us now," my beloved said as her cheeks shined from the glow of the flood lights rippling over that chocolate mess that covered them. "Why, what evah shall we do, Mr. Robert?"

"Have fun, baby, have fun."

And then as I leaned in for one last kiss. "I think we should save the big one for last . . . and I think we should take it together."

Vonni's eyes went wide at that statement. "You mean . . ."

"Baby, I don't want any more 'I win, you lose' or 'you win, I lose.' From now on, I want it to be 'we win!' It's like the Elvis Presley song, I Want You, I Need You, I Love You. You are my everything. I . . . Love . . . You." As I looked into her beautiful eyes, and saw them start to tear up again, I added, "now let's get messy, really messy!"

"YES!" my betrothed said, as we walked to the first fountain.

"Which one do you want, baby," Ivanna asked? Looking at the first two of those wonderful fountains.

"Well, you know I like chocolate," I said with just a little smirk.

"Ha, Ha, Ha," Vonni broke out laughing. "Oh, that's rich, sweetheart."

Now I got serious. "You'll have the pullies to help with the middle one, so why don't I take it, and you can take this one."

"Okay, so it's the white chocolate for you and the milk chocolate for me," Vonni asked?

"No, what I meant is that you can use the pullies to help with the milk chocolate so I should have that poured on me. And we know I can handle the five-foot one, from our time last year, so I can pour the white chocolate on you. If that's okay with you."

Her smile was all the answer I needed. But she confirmed it with a simple, "yes."

"And then," I added, "we'll do the tall one together."

"Let's do it, baby," the love of my life replied. And so, we did.


"Ready," I said the single word. "Ready," Vonni replied, "or is it like the pilots say, 'contact.'"

And then I started the pour. Not having to hold onto a fighting wildcat, like I did one year ago, made all the difference. Ivanna stood there like a statue of one of those old-time Greek goddesses, perhaps Aphrodite, or maybe Athena. She stood so gracefully, so poised, and then at the last my sweetheart, the love of my life, spread her arms and opened her hands, as if welcoming the onrushing chocolate. I guess since I had a little practice from last year, my aim had improved, for that stream of liquid white chocolate, hit her squarely in the face, almost driving her back.

"Shit," Vonni screamed, "I forgot, how cold . . . NO don't stop, I'm ready now." She quickly yelled out, as I had backed off thinking I hurt her. "Keep it coming, Bobby. Keep it coming."

"Well okay, then!" I opened it up, tilting that fountain even more than I had before. A big stream of white chocolate cascade down onto my love, and with every passing second, Ivanna became saturated more and more. This time, she took it, she relished it, turning to take the flow over every inch of her body. It was as if Vonni could not get enough of the slimy liquid chocolate. Finally, the chocolate started to run out. I tilted the fountain further, putting both hands in the white mess to maintain a firm hold on the mechanical mess maker. Vonni stepped up and tilted her head back so she could get every last drop on her face.

But as I've said before, all good things do come to an end, and so did this.

After righting the fountain, I stepped back to look at Ivanna.

And would you believe that wonderful woman took a bow, of all things, to me, and then to Mr. Harkins and finally to the crowd of onlookers. And they loved it. As my future wife walked over to join me, gingerly I might add, because of all the slippery mess on the floor, we grinned at each other like two idiots. And the crowd roared their approval as dozens of flashes popped from a hundred-plus phones.

"Oh baby, that was wonderful!" Vonni stated as she swept into my arms and allowed me to lick that delectable treat from her eyes, her nose, and finally her lips. "My turn," I said simply and to the point.

"Oh baby," Ivanna said, "what if I drop it, I could hurt you really bad . . . or worse." I sensed a real fear behind those suddenly watery eyes.

"You won't baby. I trust you. I have faith." As I held my completely 'white' gunged statue of a fiancé, I kissed her lightly on her lips, stroked the side of her face, and then stepped up to that fountain full of the light brown muck known as milk chocolate. "NOW, baby!" And I closed my eyes as I awaited the pour.

As I stood there, carrying a very liberal amount of that white chocolate that had rubbed off of Ivanna, I awaited my turn. And waited and waited. Finally, I heard a splashing sound in front of me. Looking down I saw that the chocolate was falling well short of its intended target. "Baby," I laughed, you really need to tilt it a little more." With another laugh, I added, "your aim is a little off."

"I know, shit . . . I'm just . . . I'm scared I'll hurt you, baby."

"It's okay, baby, you won't hurt me." But I could see real fear in her eyes. And then, out of nowhere, Mr. Harkins was standing beside my Vonni. And now he was holding onto that cord, too, and talking softly in Ivanna's ear. Suddenly, she smiled, and with the two of them pulling on that cord the stream started rising, first to land on my already damaged crotch area.

"Hey Vonni, are you trying to tell me something?" I said with a wink.

"Oh shit," Ivanna laughed, but then with Mr. Harkins help, she got the stream to rise until it hit my chest, first, then my chin, which almost got me in the mouth.

That might not be such a good . . .

But the stream moved on, until it reached my forehead, and then steadied out. All that glorious chocolate started streaming down my face. And I loved it. I hadn't taken any the year before. This was my first time, and I thoroughly enjoyed the sensation of all that muck rolling down my face.

Wow . . . this must be what a fire feels as that stream of water from the firemen reaches it.

Raising the stream just an inch more saw it hitting the top of my head, and I started pirouetting in place so all that chocolate could hit my entire body. It was the most wonderful sensation I had ever felt. And I loved it.

But as before, all good things come to an end. Completely drenched in chocolate, I turned toward my future wife, who had a shocked look on her face.

"Oh my Gaw . . .,"

"What's wrong, Vonni?" I asked not really understanding why she was looking that way.

"I . . . never really . . . I didn't know what I looked like last year. Wow, you look amazing!"

I started laughing at that. "Well, you look pretty amazing, too, darling," I said as I reach out for Ivanna's hand. And then, pulling her to me we began kissing like never before, all the while, the adoring crowd of onlookers were going crazy. And the cameras were back out as hundreds of flashes, it seemed, were going off every second.

And as we pulled apart to look at each other, Ivanna and I both burst out laughing. Pretty soon, Mr. Harkins was too, as was everyone else. During our semi-intimate moment, Vonni and I had more or less turned ourselves into brown and white streaked statues, and it was pretty funny.

Now after a minute, once our hearts stopped racing so hard, we stood there hand-in-hand, looking at that monster chocolate fountain.

"Wow, it looks more impressive now that we are actually here, don't 'cha think Vonni?"

"Yeah, now that we're here, I mean really here, it's . . . uh . . .,"

"You're not chickening out, Vonni, are you?"

"No, of course not. Still . . .,"

She shook her head, perhaps in wonder, perhaps in something more.

"Vonni, we don't have to do it, if you . . .,"

"NO," But I could still see the hesitation in Vonni's eyes. Mr. Harkins came to our rescue, once again.

Mr. Roberto, Ms. Ivanna, four of my strongest employees will be here to assist, one on each guy wire. If you lose control over your cable, they will have your back. I guarantee it.

"Thank you," I mouthed the words to our benefactor, as I turn back to Ivanna. "Feel a little better, honey?"

"Yes, yes I do," she said with a sigh. "I guess I was just being silly." And then after a pause, Vonni gave a slight chuckle. Another sigh, and then she said, "let's do it."

So finally, our big moment with destiny arrived. We were already drenched with chocolate and muck of all kinds. There was not one single inch of our bodies that had not been engulfed in slime and gunge of all kinds, from dozens of pies to a half dozen cakes, some quite large. Gallon upon gallon of various pudding had been dumped upon upturned heads, and in one case down my trousers, twelve liters of custard had been poured over various parts of my body. Twenty-four liters of chocolate sauce had been turned out, on top of Ivanna's head. We had each taken our turn under the chocolate fountain, and now for the grand finale, the piece de resistance, was at hand. As we stood there under the shadow of the largest fountain of mess I had ever seen, I stood there shivering under all that coating of brown goo. Looking over at Ivanna, I could see she was too.

"Well, let's get it done, baby, so we can get in a hot shower."

"Yes," she grinned at me. "This seemed like such a great idea at the beginning, but I forgot how cold I was last year."

"I love you, baby," I said as I grasped that cord.

"And I love you, too, honey," my future wife said, as she placed her hands on top of mine.

The pour started as we finally gave enough pull on the cord. Splattering at our feet, at first, the stream quickly overtook our upturned heads."

Mr. Harkin had shown me a quick release switch that was on the cord, kind of like what we used when we repelled down from a Blackhawk helicopter. So, I knew what to do when we got that perfect, not to light and not too heavy stream of dark chocolate that was coming down on our heads. I locked the quick release allowing Vonni and myself to go hands-free. Now with everything on automatic, Ivanna and I took turns taking that deluge of sweet-tasting chocolate mess that descended down upon our heads, our faces, and then our bodies. Locked arm-in-arm, we turned like a pair of pirouetting dancers on some grand ballroom floor. As that liquid mess descended upon our heads, once again, I felt my manhood stiffen. And yet again, I felt Vonni's nipples rise to the occasion. We kissed like only two people truly in love could. I opened my eyes, just a bare squint, due to the chocolatey muck flowing down my face, to look at my love, only to find Vonni's eyes locked on mine, despite the dark river of mayhem that flowed over them.

"I love you, baby!" I said through a mucky grin. And she responded with a wink, "Me, too. With all my heart, darling!"

It took almost two complete minutes for that deluge to run its course. When it did, we looked like something out of a confectioner's shop. Only there were two human beings under all that mass of chocolate. Two people, one named Bobby, the other Vonni. Every seat in the house was empty. Because every person in that room was standing and giving us the most rousing ovation, anyone could ever imagine.



Epilogue:

As we stood there, clothing drenched, every inch of our bodies covered from head to toe in liquid chocolate, I felt more alive than I had ever before. While standing there, taking it all in, listening to the roar of our crowd of admirers, Ivanna and I were one. Arms intertwined, Ivanna's glorious breasts pressing hard into my chest, my, well, you know what, gouging her stomach, lips clinched in a battle of sensual wonder, tongues darting in and out, I had never felt better in my life. For five long counts I held my breath as I felt the passion of my love. Then, I started licking Vonni's eyes, so she could see again, and when I finished, I felt her chocolate-coated lips on mine.

Finally, able to see, we opened our eyes, she, looking at me, and I seeing her in this most wondrous of views. She grinned, I smiled. Then we both burst out laughing. And the crowd roared their approval.

As we stood there in our embrace, I knew she could feel my erection because it was massive. And I knew she felt the same way, as her nipples gouged my chest.

And then, it was over. Later as we stood outside those two shower rooms, that Mr. Harkins had installed just for this special occasion, we embraced again, so briefly, so passionately, and I said, "I love you Vonni, more than life itself. And I am so sorry for what I did to you."

Her smile told me; all was forgiven. "No, Bobby, it is I who should be asking your forgiveness," Ivanna said with a wistful look, "I was so angry, that I wanted to hurt you, to embarrass you, to shame you. I am so sorry for what I put you through. Please forgive me."

But she knew, from the look on my face, that I already had. "Vonni, I meant what I said, no more 'I win, you lose,' or 'you win I lose.' From now on, it's 'We Win!'" The look on her face told me everything I needed to know.

As we left, in clean clothes provided by Mr. Harkins and the Marquis, that dapper gentleman, always properly attired, stopped us at the front door.

"Ah Mr. Roberto and Ms. Ivanna, I trust your sojourn was everything you wished for?"

"Oh, it was, most definitely, Mr. Harkins," Vonni gushed. And my smile confirmed our reaction to the night's "entertainment."

"Good," our new friend replied, "and I meant what I said, it will be our honor to provide you with the wedding reception of your dreams."

"I do have one question, though," Mr. Harkins continued, "how would you like it. I mean," and he paused, I guess to consider how to phrase the question, "Do you want it to be traditional or would you like us to prepare a special array of messy treats like we did today."

It was weird, because I could see red creeping into Mr. Harkins skin color and onto his face.

"Why Mr. Harkins, I do believe you are blushing," Vonni chuckled. And I laughed at her tongue-in-cheek comment.

"Uh excuse, me," Mr. Harkins was even redder now. "I may not have worded that properly."

"Ya think!" Vonni and I both said simultaneously, again laughing merrily.

"I assure you, I meant no disrespect," the normally so unflappable man said. "I was just trying to find out what you wanted."

Ivanna was the first to respond, as I was still wiping the tears from my eyes. "I know, Mr. Harkins. And we really appreciate everything you have done for us. And continue to do for us."

"What do you think, Bobby? What do you want to do?" Ivanna said looking into my eyes.

"Baby, it's your day. I know how special a wedding is to the bride. I don't want to do anything that will tarnish your memories," I said, looking directly in my future bride's eyes. "It's up to you."

After pausing for more than a moment, my beautiful, fiancé, looked me in the eye, and smiled such a beautiful smile that it actually radiated an existential glow and then turned to Mr. Harkins. "Sir this entire last year has been such a crazy thing to behold. I never, never thought I would find love. To have met this wonderful man," and she turned toward me, once again, "at your establishment, and then everything that has happened since . . ."

I could hear the slight catch in Vonni's voice that told me an emotional cord had been reached. "It has been so crazy . . . that . . . I say LET"S DO CRAZY again."

"What do you think, Bobby?" The love of my life said, with a naughty look in her eyes, "Want to go out with a Bang!"

Ivanna was smiling and now I was laughing. "Why not, Vonni, why not?" Turning to Mr. Harkins, I said, simply, "You have your marching orders, my good man!"