Intense Problems 11

 

 

“What the . . . !” Marshall says in confusion, as he storms into the living room, and his eyes fall on the television screen that Carly and Hailie are intensely watching, as he stops beside the sofa.

 

“What’s Wrong?” Carly asks in concern, as she glances up at him.

 

“Turn that . . . off! It’ll warp your brains!” Marshall demandly states, as he looks down at Carly, as he gives his jeans a tug, as Hailie attention stays glued to the television screen.

 

“Excuse Me? This is what we’ve chosen to watch! And we happen to out number you!” Carly firmly states, as she stands up, and then firmly grabs at his jeans and roughly unsnaps them, smiling and trying not to get lost in his perfect blue eyes.

 

“Now go take your shower!” Carly instructs, as Marshall opens his mouth to comment, but quickly decides against it, as she shoots him a playful mean look and winks, and he slowly turns around to see Proof standing in the bathroom doorway, with a large smirk on his face.

 

“WHAT?” Marshall agitatedly says to Proof, as he rushes past him.

 

“You sure you didn’t hit your head last night?” Proof comments, as he shuts the bathroom door and looks over at Marshall who is struggling to get his jeans off from around his ankles.

 

“Do you Mind? I would like some privacy!” Marshall comments, as he breaks loose from his jeans and walks over to the shower in his boxers, and struggles to turn on the water as he tries to ignore Proof.

 

“Whatever!” Proof says, and then goes to join Carly and Hailie in the living room.

 

Proof sits and squirms in the chair at the annoying noise, as Carly and Hailie intensely watch the Backstreet tape, both commenting about which member, song and video is their favorite.

 

After about twenty-five minutes Marshall finishes his shower and dresses, grateful that Proof brought sweats, so he’ll no longer need anyone’s help.

 

Marshall opens the bathroom door that leads to the living room and laughs to himself, as he looks over at Proof that has a totally disgusted, bored look on his face, and motions for him to come back in.

 

“So what have they been doing?” Marshall nosily asks, as he starts brushing his teeth, as Proof starts to pace around the small room.

 

“Man! What is your problem? Wasn’t the plan to go get the Motherfucker! That tried to set you up.” Proof curiously comments, as Marshall spits out the toothpaste, and looks up at him and grins.

 

“Isn’t that why am getting dressed?” Marshall curiously asks, as Proof just rolls his eyes, as Marshall rinses his mouth.

 

“Why are you getting DRESSED to go fight? Last night all you wanted to do was kill the motherfucker! Today it’s like I have to sleep late, play on the phone and shower first.” Proof states mocking Marshall’s voice.

 

“Can’t I look good while I fight? And Hailie doesn’t need her father going around looking like a bum.” Marshall defensively states, as he grabs his personal stuff from the counter, and goes through the door that leads to the bedroom and places the stuff back in his overnight bag.

 

“On the subject of Hailie. When did you start introducing her to bitches that you slept with?” Proof curiously asks, as he follows Marshall to the bedroom and leans against a dresser.

 

“Well I haven’t” Marshall mumbles, as he goes back to the bathroom and starts picking up his dirty clothes from the floor, and Proof straightens up with a shocked look.

 

“What was that?” Proof quickly asks, knowing he didn’t hear Slim Shady correctly, as he follows him to the bathroom.

 

“We . . .  didn’t.”  Marshall nonchalantly says, as he walks back in the bedroom, and starts stuffing his dirty clothes into his overnight bag, and hits the knuckle on his left hand and it starts bleeding again.

 

“FUCK!” Marshall yells out, then goes back in the bathroom and grabs the washcloth on the counter, and applies pressure as he holds his hand above his heart.

 

“What are you doing?” Proof curiously asks, as he watches his best friend sit down on the edge of the tub, and hold his arm up with the other hand holding on to the washcloth.

 

“Never mind. I don’t want to know. So she didn’t give it up.” Proof comments, as he walks over to Marshall, and peeks under the washcloth at his knuckle.

 

“There is a first aide kit under the sink. And my sex life is none of your business.” Marshall says, as he continues to hold his hand up, as he nods towards the counter.

 

“Since When!” Proof comments with a laugh, as he walks over and grabs the first aide kit from under the counter, and starts looking through it.

 

“Just Face It! You didn’t get any, you’ve lost your touch, that’s why you don’t wanna talk about it.” Proof says, as he grabs a band aide from the kit, and walks back over to Marshall.

 

“I Haven’t Lost My Touch. I want the other kind. Carly used the other kind.” Marshall comments, as Proof is opening a normal band aide, and then gives him an agitated look, as he walks back over to the kit.

 

“Yeah!” Marshall says, as Proof holds up a butter fly band aide, as he rolls his eyes.

 

“So do you plan on trying again?” Proof asks, as Marshall lowers his hand, and Proof starts placing the band aide over his knuckle.

 

“I would like to . . . But I kinda of opened my big mouth and she’s probably counting down the minutes, too me getting the fuck out of her life.” Marshall sadly states as he stands, and they both walk back to the bedroom.

 

“Marshall.” Proof sincerely says, as Marshall swings his overnight bag onto his shoulder, and starts to leave the room.

 

“Yeah.” Marshall says, as he stops and turns around to look at Proof.

 

“I haven’t seen that look in your eyes for a very long, long time. Just be careful! And for God’s Sake Leave Shady’s big mouth out of IT!” Proof sincerely says, as he walks over to Marshall and they hug.

 

“Thanks.” Marshall says, as he pats Proof on the back.

 

They both smile at each other, and then walk into the living room.

 

 

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