Life Isn’t Like a Box of Chocolates.  It’s More Like a Jar of Jalapenos.  What You Do Today, Might Burn Your Butt Tomorrow

 

 

 

“I did try to warn you Chief,” Jim, the Sentinel of the Great City said to his Guide, as Blair ran from his little room beneath the stairs to the bathroom for the third time within the hour.

 

“Shut up, Jim,” came the grumbled admonishment from said Guide.

 

A few minutes later, a weary, washed out Guide dragged his way back to his room.

 

 

*****

 

 

“Want me to make you some tea?” Jim asked the blur that sprinted past.  The slamming of the bathroom door made the Sentinel cringe.  “Something soothing like peppermint.”

 

“No!  And never mention that word again!”

 

“What word, Chief?” Jim teased.

 

“Fuck you, Ellison,” came the rejoinder from the most popular room in the loft at the moment.

 

 

*****

 

 

“Blair, that’s the fifth time today,” Jim said with concern as he stood in front of the closed bathroom door.  “Please let me help,” the Sentinel begged, as the Blessed Protector side of him expressed sympathy for his poorly afflicted Guide.

 

“Imodium, Aloe gel and another can of air freshener, please,” a weak voice whispered from the throne, knowing the sensitive ears could hear every word. 

 

“Right away, Chief, and I’ll bring back some of your favorite soup,” the Sentinel, given a task by his Guide, cheerfully replied.  The Sentinel nearly skipped out of their apartment and down the stairs to the street.

 

 

*****

 

 

“Better?” Jim asked as they sat closely together on the sofa, Blair nestled snugly against the bigger man and wrapped up in an afghan.

 

“Much better,” Blair sighed contentedly.  His stomach and other innards had settled.  His inflamed nether regions were soothed with liberal amounts of an aloe salve and his fluids replenished by his favorite soup.  All was right again in Blair’s world.

 

Jim?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“The next time I volunteer to judge the Best Recipes for Hot Peppers contest for the Policemen’s Benevolent Society, stop me.  Please!”

 

“It’ll be my pleasure, Chief,” Jim said as he reached over the arm of the sofa for the can of Sentinel friendly air freshener.

 

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