Weekend Getaway

When Martin Dollop and Arthur Bodine set off for a romantic vacation in the islands, they have no idea what they're in for. Now rotting away in a Mexican jail cell, it appears that they've reached the end of their rope. Even the pinche guard won't do them the honor of putting a bullet in their heads, and offers each a shot of poison to end their suffering.

Will the two lovebirds cash in on their free weekend getaway and make things right between them? Or will the doomed couple kill each other in the process?

For mature (and not so mature) audiences. Approximately 5,200 words.

EXCERPT FROM WEEKEND GETAWAY

“There, are you happy?” Martin Dollop tossed the metal cup on the stone floor. His latest boyfriend, the much younger Arthur Bodine, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed Adonis with a rugged beard, had already taken his dosage and slumped against the cell bars.

“Adios, amigas.” The guard laughed and walked away from the cell.

“How long do you think it will take for the poison to take effect?” Arthur held his head, already woozy from the lack of food and sleep.

“Some poisons are immediate, even in small doses,” said Martin. “But these cheap bastards probably bought some watered down crap from the corner mercado. It'll probably take a bit longer than that.”

“At least it will all be over soon. If there’s only a minute to live, do you have anything to say to me?” Arthur sniffled.

“Well, you probably only have 30 seconds at this point. As for me, 45.”

“You lucky dog.”

“Yeah, right.” Martin's vision blurred.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Well, aren’t you going to say anything? We're running out of time here.”

“Yeah, well, I'm still pissed at you.”

“But the ad said it was an all expense paid trip to the islands. Since you didn’t have any money, it was the best that I could come up with.”

“That's not the issue, Arthur, and you know it.” He combed his salt and pepper hair with his fingers.

“All you had to do was pay for the airfare. You should be thanking me for planning this cheap weekend getaway.” Arthur threw up his hands.

“Excuse me? I should be thanking you for getting us thrown into a Mexican jail?”

“How was I supposed to know that the Mexicans would check our baggage again when we landed? We made it through the Houston airport just fine and they've got tighter security.”

“Well, if you hadn't hidden that bag of hashish in my luggage, we wouldn't be in this situation in the first place! You can’t stop smoking that stuff for more than an hour. It’s pathetic! You could have waited and bought some from the locals once we arrived. Heck, the hotel probably gives out free samples along with hotel rooms since they provide everything else.”

“But how was I supposed to know that you were going to take that bag? The drugs stashed in there were from a previous trip.”

“But you're the one who loaded my bags in the trunk. You should have known what I was carrying!”

“Yeah, but I forgot.” Arthur broke down and cried.

“Wait, are you feeling anything yet?” Martin asked. “What are the warning signs? Foaming of the mouth or bunghole? Are our heads supposed to explode?”

“I don’t know. Probably all of the above.”