Daves decision to not take a coat to work this morning, though now his loss, was his neighbours gain, for the spectacle they would witness on his return home would be the very essence of man.
Pulling onto the drive, Dave parked too near the garage wall meaning his door would only open half way. Rather than reversing and parking properly like a normal person, he decided that a much better idea would be to try and squeeze out of the van through the tiny gap like an inflated contortionist dry humping through a doughnut.
With his stomach sucked in so hard that it threatened to burst out of his arse he forced his exit between seat and door. Onlookers would witness what resembled a giant square metallic bull giving birth to a stupid red faced fat man beast, with surgeons on standby with blocks of butter to assist lubricating the ailing creatures entrance into the world. Half way out of the van it looked like Dave could be spending the night trapped, his rounded pie frame doing little to assist his exit. With one final push he was free, like a giant arse slamming out a difficult stool, he was fired from the van and he rolled onto the drive.
To his neighbours, he moved in slow motion, this was diet coke break live – in Northumberland.
Dave picked himself up. With the rain pouring down, his sodden shirt clung to every sweeping curve of his body. His love handles exposed, bellowing out above his jeans like a sexy soufflé. His jelly tot nipples now taught from the chilly spring deluge, and sadly pointing down from the ends of his wilting chesticles.
Once inside the raging display of sex didn’t end. Upstairs Dave drew the curtains and began to get changed. Attempting to peal off his soaking shirt over his head, it became stuck half way and he wriggled around with his arms in the air, shirt rolled up above him, like a sultry enchilada.
From the outside, backlit from the bedroom light, a silhouetted dance played out. Dave’s shadow clear through the cheap George home curtains. The grand finale was just like one of those shadow dance acts from Britain’s got talent, whereas where they were often moving and poetic, this was vile and shit.