So, owing to popular demand, here is chapter two. (I wish!) 
The running 'Osmond' gag is compounded in this chapter as Donny gets a girlfriend...called Marie!
Please also note that the text is posted for forum use only which explains the lack of paragraphs, punctuation etc..
Chapter Two
Three Months Earlier
Marie and I had been an item for ever. Or, at least, it felt that way. She'd started a part time evening job at our local McDonalds and for me; it was love at first sight. (Not with McDonalds obviously, but with Marie...although...?)
If I'm honest, the thought that I might one day share my life with such a beauty, was the stuff of dreams. Don't get me wrong, I'm not exactly ugly, I just have, what mom would frequently refer to as, a "special kind of face" My
"special kind of face" was compounded by a top lip that sometimes curled up for no apparent reason. As a child, this Elvis-style snarl would often be the source of moms 'hilarious' jokes, especially to an eager audience of family members.
Oh, she could be cruel too. I remember playing 'Stars in Their Eyes' in our front room, fully dressed up as Nick Rhodes from Duran Duran. To enthusiastic applause from my ever-supportive father, I burst out from behind the red velour curtains and milked the front lounge limelight for all it was worth. But mom, noticing that my lip had reverted to its looking-up position was, yet again, unable to contain herself.
'..and who are we going to be today son.... a stroke victim?'
With the anthem of 'Wild Boys' still blaring from our crappy Woolworth record player, I left my milk-crate 'stage' and went to my room, eyes burning from a potent mixture of both fury and tears.
Oh but Marie....so different from my mother. I would visit McDonalds numerous times each night just to catch a glimpse of that big beautiful smile. I could only see the top half of her body through the drive-thru window, but it seemed fine and I saw no reason to think that the rest of her would be a disappointment. To my shame, a part of me wondered what I would do if she turned out to be in a wheelchair. Or even worse, so short that she was actually sitting on one of those cinema booster seats, or standing on a box. I like to think that I would have loved her anyway, but you never really know do you?
(Of course, nowadays, I would have just Googled 'mcdonalds+dwarf+midget' to see if any jobs had been advertised over the preceding twelve months.
A big advantage of the drive-thru facility was that, with each visit, I got a chance to speak with her twice, once at the entrance speaker, where she would take my order and then again at the first window where I would pay. Admittedly, the entrance speaker did make her sound a little bit like Stephen Hawkins, but in an odd way, I found this to be a bit sexy. It was a bit like sci-fi porn, if such a thing exists. Anyway, some five weeks later, I finally plucked up the courage to ask for her number. It was mainly because I wanted a chance to get to know her better, but I was also starting to gag on a non-stop daily diet of Happy Meals, so it was long overdue. My request for a date didn't go quite as planned and weirdly, it became our very first argument. It was around 7pm on a warm starry night and I had pulled up to her window, for the fourth time that evening. After paying for my order, I finally plucked up the courage to ask.
'What's your name' I said, trying to be cool and nonchalant.
'Marie...what's yours?' she said, thankfully smiling.
'Donny' I replied.
Suddenly her smile vanished and she slammed the window shut. It was hard to make out through the closed glass, but she appeared to mouth the word...
'Tosser!' and had started signalling to Security.
Although confused by this exchange, I tried to diffuse the situation by driving to the next Window and collecting my Chicken Nuggets and complimentary Buzz Lightyear.
For almost a week I kept returning to the drive-thru, but Marie would change places with a colleague and avoid me. It was frustrating, refusing to give up, I photocopied my driving licence, went back to McDonalds and asked that it be passed over to her at the first possible opportunity. I hoped that as it would show both my photo and my name, Marie might see that I was telling the truth and wasn't taking the proverbial. It worked! Shortly afterwards, a genuinely apologetic and smiling Marie appeared at the window and suddenly the world seemed a much, much happier place.
To cut a long story short, we laughed about the co-incidence of our names, started dating and planned on getting married and living happily together for the rest of our lives. We'd even talked about having babies and both agreed that three would be the perfect number. We felt that one might be lonely, two might fall out and not speak to each other (and therefore be lonely) but three would mean that, at any time, each one would have at least one other fighting their corner. Of course, we assumed that each child wouldn't have a major fall-out with BOTH siblings or else the whole plan would fail. As you can see, we had put a lot of thought into it. We even gave them names. I suggested Alan, Merrill and Wayne, giving us almost a full Osmond-set and although Marie saw the funny side, it was decided that they were to be named Thomas, Alice and Georgia. It was a really well thought out plan, so what could go wrong.
Well now, let me see. It probably started to go wrong when I came home early to our small rented apartment and caught Marie with another man's penis in her mouth! I found this to be somewhat in conflict with our previously-shared dream of a future life together. Up to that point, a house with a white picket fence, I could see coming. Three children happily scampering around our feet, I could see coming. Lazy summer evenings spent on a front porch swing, I could see coming. But a disturbingly large part of Darren Sawyer's anatomy disappearing into the mouth of my girlfriend I could not see coming...if you'll excuse the pun.
And Darren Sawyer, of all people! Her Duty Manager at McDonalds. Supposedly, a position of trust and a position to which other crew members aspire and dream. Leaving my obvious distress aside for the moment, by his actions, he'd not only let down himself, but also his fellow colleagues and the reputation of a well-established national franchise. However, Marie was no better. To be caught in such a sordid position was bad enough, but to be caught while still wearing her McDonalds 'I'm Lovin' It!' uniform was utterly disgraceful. In fairness, Marie looked devastated at her betrayal and tried to mouth some sort of apology. However, Darren appeared to be in no particular hurry to alter his bodily stance, so I couldn't really understand a single word that she was saying.
I decided to take what shred of dignity I had left and went to pack my things. Well, perhaps that's not strictly true, as I went into the kitchen first. After all, Tuesday was Lasagne night and I was absolutely starving. Marie may be an unfaithful bitch/whore, but nobody could say that she didn't make a fantastic lasagne! Incredibly creamy and delicious... just amazing.
Shortly afterwards, feeling uncomfortably stuffed and with suitcase in hand, I opened our front door, pausing only to turn and shout...
'You are a slut' ...before slamming the door for maximum effect.
I then noticed Mrs Willis, our elderly next door neighbour mowing the lawn. She looked up, shocked.
'I most certainly am not' she said angrily, resulting in me having to speedily pop round and profusely apologise to both her and her husband, a former policeman called Wilfred.
It then dawned on me that I didn't actually have anywhere to go or, even worse, anywhere to sleep. It was getting quite dark, so I decided that, in the short term at least, it might be best to go back into the apartment and stay in the spare room. If just for the one night, it would, at least, give me a little time to think. Then tomorrow, I could start my life afresh.
Unfortunately, it would appear that Marie wasn't expecting me to return quite so quickly, as I opened the front door to find Darren, yet again, with his man-member in her mouth. I was speechless...well almost. 'What is wrong with you two? I've only been bloody gone ten minutes!'
Without another word, I stormed off into the spare room, again slamming the door for absolute maximum effect. I then moved the trouser press, moved the washing basket, moved the two suitcases, moved the bags of cat litter, moved the exercise bike and collapsed onto the bed. It had been a very bad day.
