Stewart stared straight ahead at the television in the dimly lit living room. Shadows of Saturday Night Live glimmered across the room. He did the trademark yawn even though he wasn't sleepy at all. He reached out in feigned stretching motion (when has anyone ever naturally stretched their arm like this? what kind of yoga pose is it? downward facing social skills?) and let his arm fall on the couch behind him. Delores stared ahead without blinking. Stewart thought he felt her relax back a few milimeters towards his arm. If he moved it so slow that only a slug would see the movement maybe he could put his arm around her without her noticing. Stewart lowered his arm as slowly and gradually as possible until with a slight tingle he let it drop and hit her shoulder. Delores jumped at the contact and looked at him abrubtly.
"Hi," Stewart mumbles softly, noise barely coming out in the breathy torrent of warm mouth exhale. Instantly self conscious that he still had pizza breath from a few hours ago he looked down, dropping eye contact with Delores. It would have been a shy gesture had he not instantly found his new found gaze directly pointed toward her stiff perky bosom. Delores snapped her head away and continued to stare straight ahead. They watched the tv in silence for several minutes, his hand around her shoulder.
He obsessively wondered if she was bored, if she hated his shirt, if he hated his shirt. Maybe the shirt was okay, just the smell on the shirt was the problem? Maybe she wanted to be with Adam. He was so much cooler. Maybe she was fantasizing about him right now. Maybe his sweat was leaking through his fat hands, arms and side and gushing onto her somehow. He watcher her gaze stay locked on the tv and he tried to calm himself.
Stewart fumbled with whether or not he should stroke the side of her arm, tap it, keep his hand still, remove the hand entirely from her shoulder, or inch it slightly closer towards her breasts. He began to shake uncontrollably and spilled some of his soda in his lap. He hurriedly dabbed at his damp sweet crotch with his sleeve. Delores pretended not to notice.
About ten meters above Stewart and Delores, Xenon and Zag sat in the rafters of the room. Xenon was holding the marrionette strings attached to Delores and Zag was eating some browder nuts.
"You haven't made her move in a while, should you do something? Itch something or make her touch her hair?" Zag said.
"Nah, this kid doesn't even notice," said Xenon.
"How long has it been since she went pee? I think she should have to pee. Humans have to pee a lot."
"Females go in groups," Xenon said.
"Do you want me to take over the strings? I can control her," Zag said.
"Stop being so anxious and just watch the show," Xenon replied.
"Right, okay, sorry."
"Why are you sorry? Just fucking calm down," Xenon said.
"I wish I was here on this assignment with anyone but you," Zag said. "I hate everything about your entire existence and consciousness."
"Me too, baby, me too."