The Christmas Party Fantasy
  by Cousin Robi

     It's one of many office Christmas parties you are forced to attend
 (Actually, one of eight - you've counted). If you didn't, everyone
 would think you didn't have the "company spirit" or whatever that is
 called. Anyway, you have had the worst day ever. You get yelled at by
 your boss mid-morning for having an opinion, and *gosh*, expressing it.
 This ruins your entire day and gives you the absolutely worst headache
 you have ever experienced. 

     Then, after you have to deal with your
 boss and coworkers for the rest of the day, you have to attend this lame
 party. You get there, the food is gross, the only thing that is vaguely
 edible is some form of potatoes, but you can see grease floating on the
 top, frightening you more. The rest of the meal consists of the good old
 midwestern beef. They serve it for everything, you swear. You personally 
 can't stand the stuff. 
 
      After forcing yourself through a little dinner, shooting some archive
 pictures of the activities, and feeling like your head would fall off
 any minute, who should put his hand on your shoulder but Nunkies. He
 felt your pain and wished to alleviate it. 

     He takes you home, helps you out of those constricting work clothes 
 and proceeds to massage your temples, gently, gently, until the 
 throbbing pain ceases. He follows the facial rub down with full-bodied 
 treatment of rose-scented oils. After nearly falling asleep in his 
 oh-so-strong arms, a question comes to mind....
 
 "Lucien?"

 "Yes my darling," he responds sensuously.

 "There's been something I've always wanted to ask you, but I've been too
 afraid."

 "You know you can tell me anything, my child. Do tell," his velvety
 voice answers.
 
 "Have you ever been cow-tipping?" 

***********************************************************************
Fin