Cupid Correction
A fat little angel soared over south Memphis looking for his targets. His wings were to small for physics but that didn’t matter the importance of his mission is what kept him going. He had his quiver full of crimson arrows and a tiny gold bow that curled at either end. The ridiculously thin white ribbon he wore as a loincloth kept slipping and needed constant adjustment. The wind caught his halo and tipped it sideways. That wouldn’t stay straight either.
“What kind of dumb uniform is this?! I mean the halo helps me see through bad weather but I don’t see why we can’t wear an oxford button-up and khakis!”
Frank, the angel’s dispatcher, spoke into the angel’s Bluetooth. “Shut it Bob. Remember F-A-R-T. What’s it mean?”
“I means Cupid Command needs to get out more.”
“Bob? You know this. C’mon, just do it.”
The angel rolled his eyes. “Focus And Reach Target” you know, I used to do this before we came up with this insulting acronym. I’ll tell ya Frank, if guardian angels got any vacation time, I’d me there in a wing flap.”
“Boooooob, you’re not FARTing!”
“Alright! I’m FARTing ok!?” Bob rounded a cumulous cloud and slowed to approach speed. The old Central Church was coming into view.
Frank continued. “You’re coming up and your target. It’s Crichton College’s new student registration line near the financial aid office. As you could have guessed, the college is inside the church. Now target one is Melissa Gregory. She has sharp features, flaxen hair, and that streak of newfound confidence shy girls get when…well…when they quit being shy. She’s short, cute, and curvy. Be sure to use the slow release dose arrows. She’s on the prowl.”
Bob found the gradual release arrow and notched it. “And the male target?”
“He’s in line just in front of Melissa. He has a uni-brow, large calves that look like cantaloupes, and no butt. I can’t stress this enough. He has no butt. If your targeting anyone with the slightest amount of posterior…PULL UP!”
The angel’s path had taken him past the line into the church’s basement. Bob corrected and popped into line directly behind Melissa.
“Ok, Frank I’m here. What do I hit the male with…wait, you’re right this guy has calves, thighs, and no butt. How does he even walk?”
“Bob, your going to use a correction dose on this guy. He’s looking for long legs, blonde hair, and too much makeup. Right now he’ll worry about the personality latter. Not a good combination but we’ve see it before right?”
The angel patted is bare, round belly. “Ha, we sure have! Ok, I’m notching both arrows. One delayed release and the other a correctional shot.”
Bob pulled his bowstring back and prepared to release. At that moment, Matt dropped his registration folder and both Matt and Melissa bent over to pick it up. The arrows zipped by their intended targets, were caught in winds of change, and blown back toward the couple.
Matt was struck with the delayed release deadening him to the sight of his life’s love and Melissa was hit with a correctional dose of love serum. For the moment, her preference was still the handsome, quiet boy in front of her but would gradually change to scrawny, badly charismatic boys.
“Bob? Status report, please.”
“Ok, I got the girl in the heart but with the wrong arrow. The boy I wound up hitting in the pancreas. He’ll probably wind up in his dorm room playing video games for two years instead of dating at all. Do I get another chance?”
It took a second for Frank to respond. When he did, his voice was deadpan. “You don’t know the first thing about FARTing do you?”
June 22nd, 2009 at 8:16 am
you do have big calfs….
June 22nd, 2009 at 3:21 pm
the unibrow should be a point of pride…
June 23rd, 2009 at 7:01 am
calves I mean… dang.