Sneak Peek of #TripleX
Are you ready for a surprise?
How about an exclusive sneak peek at the first few pages of #TripleX written by Christine Zolendz
and Angelisa Stone
We're super excited to have everyone read
about our little writing adventure. It's not your normal read - it's straight
up Chick-Lit Comedy. A fun read that will make you laugh and possibly pee in
your pants. We hope you enjoy. Love you all! XOXO
#TripleX
Christine Zolendz &
Angelisa Stone
Prologue
Twitter: That awkward moment when you wake up in jail and you
wonder what you did to get there. Then smile. #TripleX
A lone dimly lit light bulb sways gently from the jail cell’s
ceiling. It hurts to open my eyes toward it, so I squint to try to ease
the pain. A handful of loudly buzzing insects fly wildly around the dull yellow
globe and just the sight causes me to scratch at my arms and neck madly.
I loathe bugs. And it's like Swarmageddon above my head
right now.
Pulling
myself up into a sitting position, the throbbing behind my eyes turns sharp and
shatters into millions of razor-tipped tiny pieces of glass. I moan as I
grab my head in pounding pain. The room spins, and I fall back with a hard thud
against the cold concrete wall.
I hear
footsteps, heavy and impending, walking along the rough cement of the hallway.
I peek through my fingers, but all I can see is the knotted hair of my
cellmate, my partner in crime.
The
footsteps become louder, closer. Keys are jangling. Someone is
whistling, and the screech of the rusty cell door makes scorching bile burn the
back of my throat. I swallow twice to keep it down.
"Stone.
Zolendz. Up-and-at-'em. Going before the judge," a deep
voice bellows. I hate the man instantly.
I believe I
moan out some sort of unintelligible sound, but I'm not sure. Who can be sure?
The dull
bulb overhead flickers and makes a sizzling sound. Damn, I'm in a
place where even the bugs are killing themselves. "Come on ladies,
let's go," the voice yells. It's closer now, and the body attached
to it starts kicking the wooden bench I'm sitting on. I think my head is
going to explode from the vibrations and violent crashes that echo through my
head. "What's the matter, not willing to offer up your goods this morning?"
My head
snaps up, "Excuse me?"
The man
standing over me is older, in his sixties with a long gray beard. His
eyes dance with laughter. "Well, Ma'am. That's what you tried
to bribe us with last night when we put you in here. Your goooooooods."
He kind of shimmies a little and gives a few humps into the air. I vomit a
little in my mouth.
"Oh my
God. Seriously? Just don't...just don't pay any attention to anything I
said, okay?" I mumble my mortification.
"You
mean to tell me, you'll be cancelling our hot date tonight?" he laughs,
snidely, mocking me. "Come on, Darlin' the judge is waiting on you
both. No harm done last night, you both were quite intoxicated."
"Oh
God, I think I'm going to be sick." Slowly, I pull myself off the
bench, every bone in my body screaming for a few more hours of silently sound
sleep. And really, that stupid light bulb is annoying the Hell out of me;
someone needs to shoot it.
"Angelisa,"
I whisper and shake her awake. "Come on. We have to go.
A judge wants to see us."
"Blah...Ha.
Ha. Very funny. Lemme sleep," Angelisa groans and swats
her hand at me. It falls to her side with a loud thwack against the metal
rim of the bed.
"I
can't. Clear your head and think about last night. Think back.
Go ahead," I urge. She doesn't. She remains motionless and
silent; all but a small, low snore can be heard. "You seriously need to
open your eyes right now, because we're in trouble," I hiss ominously.
Her head
slowly turns toward me, eyes blinking open. They dart around the room and
widen; a bubble of laughter escapes her lips. "We're in jail, aren't
we?"
I smile and
join in with her laughter, "We are indeed, waking up together in a jail
cell."
"Damn
it, I can't go to prison. You know how horrible I look in stripes," she
whispers as she climbs up to her feet, grabbing onto my shoulder and using me
for leverage.
"Quick,"
I look around the cell and laugh, "anybody got a cell phone? I wanna take
a cellfie."
And we try,
we really do try not to fall back down into a fit of giggles, but it's way too
hard. We follow the guard down the hallway.
“Dude, I
could so be a violent criminal.” Angelisa mumbles. “Shouldn’t you cuff me?
Why doesn’t anyone ever want to handcuff me, Chris?” she whines.
“Ummm, she’s
not violent. We swear. She’s just…just…dumb.” I explain, nudging her.
“Seriously
though, how does he know I’m not packing an oozie in my girly stuff?”
“Ya know that is true. It’s kind of sexist
that you don’t think we could be hiding heat?”
“Ladies, the only thing you two are trying
to hide…or hide from is good old-fashioned middle age. And quite frankly,
neither one of you is doing a bang-bang up job of it,” the son-of-a-slut says,
pretending to shoot us.
“Is that what you do now? Shoot blanks?”
Angelisa quips, exploding in laughter that spirals out of control until we’re
both laughing like lunatics.
“Enough!” he shouts, trying to silence us
before we enter the courtroom.
The two of us are still giggling like two
immature kids being brought in front of the principal. Matted hair,
mascara-streaked cheeks, and barefoot. I’m pretty sure I even have an
extra tattoo somewhere.
We're sworn
in; big vocabulary is used. Case numbers are brought forth, and I almost fall
asleep. I’m just about to face plant into the table with exhaustion when
Judge Caroline Jacobson calls both of us up to the podium. "Ms.
Zolendz. Ms. Stone. Approach the bench please." She has dark
tired brown eyes, the kind that are weighed down with darker brown bags beneath
them. Her light blonde hair is pulled back into a tight, painful looking
bun. It's streaked with gray. I want to pull out all those restraining pins.
I want her to stop feeling so tight and tense behind her bench. I
want her to feel free like me, like us.
Almost as if
Angelisa’s reading my thoughts, she mumbles, “Man, she needs to get laid…and
needs to get those roots done.” I can’t control the giggle that escapes
me. The judge eyes us sternly, and you can nearly hear our mouths snap shut.
"As I
hear, you both were found in the fountains of the Bellagio last night.
Swimming. Naked," she chirps.
"Yes,
that's true," Angelisa giggles, proudly next to me.
I nod my
head in agreement, "Yeah, that certainly sounds like us—well, the new
us, anyway."
The judge pinches
her lips into a tight pucker. Doesn't she realize that’s exactly what makes
those little wrinkles all around her mouth? She pulls out an envelope
marked Prisoner Property/Currency and unfastens the clasp. I suck my lips
between my teeth to stop myself from laughing, because this isn't funny—at all.
But if I remember correctly, the things in the envelope are.
She slips
one dainty little hand in.
Angelisa and
I lean forward to watch.
Two books of
matches, fifty-six dollars, a bent wedding ring, a fake moustache, a shoehorn,
four glow sticks, two “Call for a good time” prostitute cards, a tube of
Ben-gay, and an extra large rubbery dildo that flops on its side when she
places it on her desk.
"Do you
want to explain to me why two fully grown women, respected in their fields,
would be caught in this situation…with these items?"
Angelisa and
I look and back and forth from her to each other and back again. We both
shrug.
"Well,
it all started with an apple pie," I smile.
Angelisa
nods next to me, "Yes, definitely. That's probably where it all started,
the apple pie fiasco."
The judge
leans back and draws in a long breath. She pulls her glasses off her
fatigued eyes and rubs them softly with her hands. "An apple
pie?"
"Yes.
A forgotten apple pie. I can tell you every detail except for three
or four days where I have no recollection. Both of us can, it's what we do,
tell stories."
The corner
of the judge's lips curl up the tiniest bit, "Come into my chambers
ladies, this I have to hear."
#TripleX Releasing
Everywhere January 2015 - Keep a look out!
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