“Fuck me!” Mary Ann shouted in a fury of rage.
“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Tom shouted.
She was fucking fed up and frustrated as fuck. Her fucking husband, Tom, couldn’t get it though his thick fucking head that there was simply no street parking left.
“You’ve driven down this block like four fucking times already,” Mary Ann yelled.
“Fuck this,” Tom muttered. “I’ll just pay the fucking valet.”
“It’s already eight fucking thirty,” Mary Ann chided. “We’re fucking late again, you dumb fuck.”
Tom drove their family fucking station wagon around a corner towards the valet.
“Well fuck me running,” Tom smiled with glee, spotting a parking spot off in the distance beside a row of tents occupied by a bunch of fucking homeless guys.
“Don’t you dare park my car next to those vagrant fucks,” Mary Ann warned.
“They’re all fucked up anyway,” Tom argued persuasively, pointing to the abundance of empty liquor bottles strewn about all over the fucking place. “They won’t fuck with the car.”
“Fuck it,” Mary Ann conceded.
Tom parked the car and he and Mary Ann got out.
“Where the fuck are we?” Mary Ann asked.
“The restaurant is just up the hill,” Tom said.
“Are you fucking with me?” Mary Ann asked in shock. “I have to walk up this fucking hill in these fucking heels?”
“Stop fucking around,” Tom retorted. “Let’s go.”
“Fuck you!” Mary Ann shot back, glaring at Tom.
“You talk too fucking much,” Tom replied casually. “Let’s go.”
Mary and Tom walked up a short hill towards the restaurant.
“See? That wasn’t too fucking far,” Tom stated pretentiously as they arrived at the restaurant.
“Ok, you were fucking right,” Mary Ann agreed through a stern gaze.
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Tom gloated, grinning from ear to ear.
Mary Ann and Tom approached the host podium as they entered the restaurant.
“Greetings,” welcomed the hostess warmly, “do you have reservations?”
“Fuck no,” Tom replied. “Table for two, please.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” the hostess replied, “we all fully booked this evening.”
“What the fuck?” Tom replied angrily.
“I’m sorry,” the hostess stated again.
“Fully booked on a weekday?” Tom asked incredulously. “Holy fuck!”
“What a fuck up,” Mary Ann said, turning her head in anger to one side.
“I’m sorry,” apologized the hostess.
“It’s not your fault, dear,” Mary Ann consoled her, “he’s a fucking tool bag.”
“Fuck if I knew,” Tom asserted in an attempt to defend his poor fucking planning.
Mary Ann and Tom walked away from the restaurant, both hungry as fuck and dejected over the lack of available tables.
“Why the fuck didn’t you make a reservation, you fuck stick?” Mary Ann scolded.
“I fucked up,” Tom said sheepishly. “Who the fuck would think they’d be sold out on a fucking Tuesday?”
“For fuck’s sake,” Mary vented. “Total cluster fuck.”
Tom and Mary Ann walked back down the hill towards their car in silence.
“It’s fucking dark already,” Mary Ann groaned. “Let’s just go the fuck home.”
“I fucking got it!” Tom rang out as they approached the car.
“Don’t fuck with me,” Mary Ann said.
Tom and Mary Ann got in the car and Tom began driving.
“Where the fuck are we going?” Mary Ann asked quizzically.
“Calm the fuck down,” Tom replied. “I have a new fucking plan.”
Tom drove inland towards the country, stopping in a small enclave just outside a park overlooking the hills in the distance. There wasn’t a city light in sight and neither of them had seen a fucking car for miles.
“What the fuck is this?” Mary Ann asked.
“I think it’s fucking romantic,” Tom replied, spreading a blanket across the grass.
“We’re in the middle of fucking nowhere,” Mary Ann complained. “Bumfuck Egypt is a romantic place for you?”
“Lie the fuck down,” Tom gestured lovingly towards the blanket.
Mary Ann sat down beside Tom on the blanket and the two of them slowly laid down together, cuddling under the brilliance of the night sky.
“Fuck,” Mary Ann whispered softly.
“What?” Tom asked.
Mary Ann sighed, “this is fucking romantic as fuck. I’m really fucking sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Tom replied under his breath, reaching an arm beneath the small of Mary Ann’s back.
“Let’s fuck,” Mary Ann seductively whispered.
“Fuck yes,” Tom agreed.
Under the moonlit sky, Tom fucked Mary Ann on the blanket. Neither of them gave a fuck about the restaurant debacle. Blissfully, they fucked like bunnies.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Tom said sincerely, glancing into Mary Ann’s gorgeous fucking eyes.
“I fucking love you,” Mary Ann gasped through exasperated fuck moans.
“I fucking love you too,” Tom replied.
As if fucked by the fickle finger of fate, Tom and Mary Ann’s anger at the failed date night melted away and their eyes met as their bodies fucked in harmony.
Beneath the vain queen Cassiopeia, Tom and Mary Ann gave no fucks. And gave all the fucks. And all the fucks were theirs and theirs alone.