Sunday, March 7, 2010

You're getting verrrrry sleepy

Chuck’s detailed and intricate diary entries describe Madame Boodwah’s disappearance from the airwaves and her time at a leading sanatorium.

That wink stayed with Chuck, burned into the considerable grey matter that calls Chuck’s skull home. It told Chuck everything and nothing at the same time. It indicated that Boodwah was ok but it shed no light on what she was up to. Chuck found it difficult to drift off to sleep on Australia day, spinning the evening’s events around in his head. Boodwah engaged to the beiger than beige Dr Clark? Here was a woman who had spent her entire life being courted by some of the world’s most eligible bachelors and she finally relented to a man who she wouldn’t have looked twice at under ordinary circumstances.

Perhaps in her weakened state Madame Boodwah had latched onto the one constant in her life. Maybe it was the 150k rock that she was sporting, diamonds have turned many a woman after all. It was all too much for Chuck to comprehend.

The days turned into weeks and once again Chuck heard nothing from his friend. Chuck assumed that Boodwah was finishing up her 3 month rehabilitation and preparing for the wedding that Dr Clark indicated would be taking place in February. Chuck buried himself in the day to day workings of the Reality Bytes franchise, but an hour didn’t go by when Madame Boodwah’s welfare didn’t pop in to Chuck’s head.

February 28th, 2010

I was in the process of finishing my daily chores – ironing, cleaning, cooking, dusting when at 8pm there was a loud banging on the front door. I wiped my hands on my apron and went to investigate this unexpected visitor. I opened the door to see Madame Boodwah standing in the stoop holding a bottle of Dom Perignon. Her face lit up “Chuck darling, may I come in…. are you wearing an apron?”

I looked down to notice that I hadn’t removed my apron and ushered Madame Boodwah through the front door while looking around for any sign of Dr Clark. The only things outside were 2 Louis Vuitton travel cases and a crate of cognac.

“Chuck, be a dear and help me with my luggage, I’m terribly worn out,” Madame Boodwah sighed.

After powerlifting the 2 travel cases into the house while Madame Boodwah uncorked the champagne, I plonked myself down on one of the cases and asked “Ok, what the fuck has gone down over the last 3 months?”

“Chuck, you’re sitting on a $5000 travel case, would you mind moving?” Madame Boodwah asked ignoring my original question.

I shifted off the case and asked again, “where’s Dr Clark?”

“Who” asked Boodwah.

“What the fuck happened up there?”

“Up where?” a confused Boodwah asked.

“The sanatorium” I blurted.

“Oh, the holiday camp. Delightful place, my tan has never been better,” Boodwah responded.

“And what about Dr Clark” I asked.

Boodwah smiled.

I was getting a little frustrated with my friend, so after she’d taken her first sip of Dom, I walked to her, clasped her by the shoulders and stared into her bright eyes stating “look, perhaps it was rough of me to put you in that place but you were at rock bottom and needed more than I could give. Having said that, something weird went down up there over the past 3 months and I want to know what happened as I observed behaviour in you that I have never seen before and frankly never want to experience again”.

At this Boodwah smiled reassuringly. “Chuck darling, you saved me and you deserve to know what your old friend was up to.”

Boodwah motioned for Chuck to sit down. “Before I commence, do you have any caviar, I’m famished” she asked.

“I’ll fix you something, start talking,” I said while rummaging in the pantry.

Madame Boodwah began:

“Well, I was somewhat disappointed at being taken to a rehabilitation facility, but I must admit Chuck that it was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The first week was confronting and not without some challenges…”

I couldn’t resist cutting her off, “well you did bring the entire male population there to orgasm!”

“And woke a man from a catatonic state I might add!” said Madame Boodwah proudly.

I raised my champagne glass in salute of her skills.

“Anyway, once I got through that first week I felt that I really started to confront my demons and make some real progress. Admitting that I had a problem was a big step and identifying why I was doing what I was doing was important,” Boodwah offered.

“What caused the problem?” I asked.

“Good question my dear, good question” Boodwah said while biting into a cracker and nodding. I spent so much time helping others that I forgot about myself. I’m always telling ladies that if a man isn’t right, cut him loose which I still believe is the right thing to do. Unfortunately, I started looking for any slight fault in a man as a means to end things. I started killing off my relationships and things became sexual. Being an experienced lover, I knew what I wanted and it was easy to get gratification in sex. Unfortunately all of my interactions became sexual and it over took my life. I stopped all money making activities and had to pawn off all of my belongings to support my daily and nightly cock hunting missions.”

I choked on my champagne. I had never before heard Boodwah use the expression “cock hunting”.

Boodwah paused, sipped her Champagne and continued, “I learned to understand my affliction and undertook numerous activities to curb behaviour that I no longer had control over. Learning to identify the urges and tell tale signs was critical. One of the benefits of all of this was that I actually had time and the desire to look after myself again. As you can imagine Chuck, it didn’t take long for me to be back at my physical best”

At this, Madame Boodwah stood up and pirouetted.

She was right, she had managed to get her rig back into mint condition again. I was itching to know the part that Dr Clark had played in all this. I couldn’t help asking, “Ok, I can appreciate that things started to get better for you, but how do you explain the Zombie state that you went into any time Clark was around?”

“Chuck darling, I was just getting to that part,” Boodwah chuckled. “As I continued to get better and obviously start to look like my fabulous self again, Dr Clark decided that I should participate in some one-on-one counselling work. He was such a terribly boring man Chuck and those slip on shoes he insisted on wearing were just tragic. The first couple of sessions were your standard therapy sessions. I could tell that Dr Clark enjoyed having a lady such as myself in his company and he always got embarrassed when I asked questions about his personal life. Anyway, during the third session he thought that hypnosis was a good way of assisting my healing.”

I leaned forward, I could tell by the smirk on Boodwah’s face that things were about to get very interesting or totally fucked up.

“He tried his hypnotic trick on me but as you will remember Chuck, I spent a stint on the cruise ship as the sorcerer’s assistant and had been hypnotized on numerous occasions. Even a two bit entertainer on a boat was better at putting someone under than this bloke. Anyway, I felt sorry for Dr Clark so I played along and pretended to be hypnotized. Things went ok for the first 10 minutes or so, I was quite enjoying lying in his comfy chair and taking a break. Then I felt his breath on my neck. The first thing I thought was how desperately this guy needed a tic tac – his breath was abominable , after that, I
realised that he had nefarious thoughts on his mind”.

“Here we go,” I thought.

“Now Chuck darling, you need to understand that at the time I was still recovering from the depths of sexual addiction so when he placed his hand on my bosom, I quite enjoyed it. Plus I had my eyes closed so I just imagined it was George Clooney with terribly bad breath. He pawed around over my clothes for 10 minutes or so and then vanished for another 5….”

“Running it through his knuckles,” I offered.

“So eloquently put Chuck,” Madame Boodwah sighed.

“When he came back, he brought me out of my hypnotic state, told me that I was making wonderful progress and suggested that we should increase the frequency of our one-on-one sessions.”

“Hang on, you were just sexually assaulted” I clammered, “why didn’t you call the police?” 

“I was a little steamy after my session with George Clooney and couldn’t get back to my room fast enough!” smiled Madame Boodwah.

Her face then went suddenly serious, “Chuck, trust your old friend”.

 To be continued (Ok, so Chuck lied in the last post. Chuck promise's it will be finished on Wednesday)

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