Introducing... the Premier Underground Clown: Dr. Joseph Wallace

So earlier today I told my friend/personal diamond dealer Joe Wallace (above) to write me a story. About an hour or two later he sent me this. Hopefully this will be the first of many entries from Dr. Cockafeller himself. I am pasting this into the blog as it was written to preserve it's original strokes. If you take umbrage with any grammatical errors that may be contained within this little yarn, well then you write me a fucking story.

"Total Toyota Bootycall Recall in the Mall" (tentative title?)

The last time I made love it was with myself in the back of a Toyota Camery. I did not want to do it but I kept coxing myself along saying things like, "Come on baby, I can be so good." and "I wanna make you come in the worst way." My hands were sweaty and nervous as they undressed myself and caressed my bare back. I remember saying, "I think we are going to miss the movie", but the groping and squeezing did not stop.
When all was said and done and I had dressed myself again and covered my shame.
I said, "I think I want to go home."
The car was put into drive and cut across the empty mall parking lot we were parked in. I felt dirty and sinful but I did not seem to mind. He just sat there driving, smoking a cigarette, and blasting Philip Glass. The weird repetitive notes of the music made me feel uneasy and the second hand smoke turned my stomach.
"Can you turn that down?" I said.
But the music just got louder. How could I do this? repeated over and over in my mind.
After that I did not see myself for a while. I called after a couple of days but the phone kept going straight to voicemail. Did I do something wrong? I thought. No, it is I who should be apologizing to me.
Weeks past and not a word. When I finally caught up with myself I was eating a delicious dinner in a Arby's, alone.
I said, "Hey asshole, you never called me, what kind of person do you think I am."
"The Kind who gives it up on the first date." I responded.
I became flush and embarrassed at the accusation and all of the employees at the Arby's were laughing and watching. I needed to say something, anything to gain the upper hand.
"Oh yea," I said, "I'm pregnant! And guess what, I am keeping it."
I studied my face at hearing the fictitious bombshell looking for any sign of remorse or love. The only response was, "How do you even know if its mine?"
"Because I have not been with anyone else!!" I shot back.
All of the customers and employs at Arby's were dumbfounded. We sat together a long time eating roast beef and curling fries talking about the future and how this would change our lives. Afterwards I drove myself home and walked me to the door, kissing my forehead and saying, "Goodnight."
Then I was alone. I would have to start putting on weight like crazy if this pregnancy charade was going to work and keep me from leaving. I sat at the table with a pint of ice cream and dreamed of my fantasy wedding.