Antagonist vs. Protagonist


My presence here remained unnoticed of course. She never knew I invaded her most intimate, private sphere – her home, her room. I cherished the thought.

 

 “Okay,” Mr Antagonist said to Ms Protagonist, “I am looking at this two ways.” Then, Ms Protagonist said, “Wait, how on God’s good earth, do you think  that your way could even remotely be better than mine? Yours’ being first, and all,” said Ms Protagonist to Mr Antagonist. “You are right,” he said, (not wanting to ruffle any feathers) “I guess if I were in your shoes I’d be bitching about the same damn thing.” He shouldn’t have used that word “bitching.” After all, from her demeanor and the fact that she hasn’t been herself lately, he should have known to tread lightly. “Anyhow,” he said gently, careful not to mess with her, as if he didn’t already do enough. (– if it were me, I’d have made it out the door and down the street before Ms Protagonist could look my way–) She was usually such an angel, a delight. But, it was like dealing with the devil when you were anywhere near Ms Protagonist when she was, well, put it this way, she could periodically be moody Just the same, Mr Antagonist persisted. He said, “We can screw with this guy, this actor guy…” that set off Ms Protagonist, in itself. She said, “Why must the actor always be a guy?” She said, “What if the actor is a woman?” Mr Antagonist was quick, maybe not quick enough. He said, “Okay, let’s say the actor is an actress.” As Shakespeare or was it that Pizza guy, Lil’ Caesar who once said, “The Dye had been caste.” You can’t unring a bell. In other words: You been screwed buddy, PMS has you by the balls, thought Brutus. The Mr Antagonist hadn’t even been able to get in his original point! He knew it. Again, it would just be the two of them Shakespeare and his original wing man Brutus, another night of painting the town, blue or should it be red? (red because ol’ Mr Antagonist was getting in plenty of blue balling for the rest of us).  Gee, he certainly wouldn’t be getting thing else for quite some time. Ms Protagonist, she was off getting her nails done, one of those mani -pedies or something like that. Brutus was at least kind of smart enough to get her out of his hair for a little “away time,” though, he certainly wouldn’t be mistaken for the brightest bulb in the…closet, he wasn’t the sharpest tool …okay, he was stupid. His idea, though, was kind of neat. He said, “Let’s kind of team up on Ms Actress.” He was careful to give in to Actress; as if he was doing all the decision making (he was certainly good at doing the feather ruffling). All the while, Brutus knew that he’d have to get Ms Protagonist one of those spa treatments at the end of all this, just to calm her down. This was getting to be a prank on him, on Mr Antagonist. Gee, it all sounded so funny. It was gonna be a prank on the “Actor/Actress.” Instead, it turned itself all which way but loose, all around, just like one of those Greek drama, tragedy things and Caesar and Brutus were looking the other way, while the actor and actress were off playing kissy face. Me? I was standing all alone with the ticket lady, hoping to catch the last part of the “Rocky Horror Picture Show.” Either that or I’d have to go home and watch re runs of re runs with the family of our Rome vacation. The two dramatists, even they, even Brutus, thought this was a comedy. A real comedy of errors. I guess the joke was on Mr Antagonist. What was cool, really neat, was that Ms Protagonist was the first to be sure that nobody hurt his feelings. The spa treatment? It cost Mr Antagonist an arm and a leg and he had to go, too! In the long run, it all boiled down to the age-old question: To be or not to be. It was worth it.

 

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