WHILE I’M GONE TO ISRAEL FOR A COUPLE OF WEEKS, I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT ENJOY A FIVE-PART SERIAL THAT I HAVE WRITTEN.

Dick and Jane Save the World

By Stephen McCutchan,

PART ONE

Dick Jones didn’t see himself as special.  He was just a tall, rather shy, laid-back farmer who worked his small plot of land and didn’t pretend to think very large thoughts.  His life expanded when he met Jane who shared his love for the land. She also saw it as a challenge to unleash the sensual side she saw within him.  “You planted the seed, and we watch it grow,” she said mischievously to Dick on the day that the doctors confirmed that she was pregnant.

Now, almost nine months later, Dick was anything but laid-back as he checked his cell phone for the fifth time to make sure that it was connected and the batteries were charged.  “How far apart are they now?” he asked anxiously as he moved the suitcase closer to one of the doors of their large bedroom.”

Jane was sitting on a comfortable sofa reading a magazine. “Just relax; the doctors said that when the contractions were about twenty minutes apart, we could think about heading for the hospital.  What we need is something to distract us.  Don’t we have some real sexy movie that we could watch?”

Dick grinned and relaxed a little.  “You pick the strangest times to think of sex.”

“Hey, that’s what got us here, remember.  Maybe we need one of those old time flicks, like with Marilyn Monroe or Marlon Brando, or something.”

One of their bedroom doors crashed open.  They were speechless and a little confused when they saw Marlon Brando walk in wearing tight blue jeans and an open work shirt with a cigarette pack rolled into the sleeve. He was breathing hard. “Where is she?”

“Wow,” said Jane.  “This could certainly take your mind off of other things.”

“You can’t be real,” Dick said.  “You died several years ago.”

“So, don’t you believe in no resurrection?” Brando asked.

“Then the other bedroom door opened.  A breathy voice exclaimed, “I dooo.  These resurrected bodies are woonderrfull.” Marilyn Monroe shimmied into the room. She was too busy ogling Brando to notice Dick or Jane as they sat wide-mouthed on their bedroom sofa.

“I must be dreaming,” said Dick as he tried to decide which part of Marilyn to stare at first.

“Maarloon,” Marilyn said in a breathy voice, “is there any rule against us doing it in our new bodies?”

“Git on that bed babe, and I’ll show you what I think of rules.”

“Oooh, I love a real man who knows what he wants.  Do you suppose if I help you off with that shirt, you could help me with this dress? It’s so tight I can hardly breathe.”

In two strides, Marlon crossed the room, reached behind Marilyn, and found the hidden catch; and let her dress fall to the floor.  Marilyn shivered as she caressed herself.

“Aah, that’s so much better. I can breathe.  Can I help you? Those jeans look awfully tight.” She proceeded to unzip them even as she explored his chest with her lips.

“Turn the lights down low, babe, and let’s get it on,” Brando said in a low mumble.

TO BE CONTINUED