A Night at the Opera

Joshua planned the night perfectly. He bought her favorite flowers, picked the perfect bistro, arranged for her favorite book to be in the bookshop window, and purchased the best box at the opera nearly six months earlier. He waited for Lana to come home from work, take a shower, and start to relax. His plan was then set in motion.

“Why don’t we go out to eat tonight,” he suggested.

“Oh, that sounds lovely,” she said.

On their way out the door, Joshua reached into the refrigerator and whipped out the bouquet of flowers.

Lana squealed. “They’re lovely!” She kissed his cheek and wrapped herself around his arm.

The meal was perfect and she nearly flipped when she saw the book she loved on the way to the opera house.

Everything was going as planned. Everything until the opera. Instead of her favorite tenor as scheduled, Faust was played by…

Part 2 by Fresh Hell

… “Stone Cold” Steve Austin. It completely spoiled her expectations of the evening. The wrestler barreled around the stage, ungainly as a three legged pig. He nearly knocked part of the set over.

As he belted out the last broken note, unconsciously clotheslining a member of the chorus with one beefy arm, her temper burst. She just had to go complain.

“No, no, not again,” Joshua said. “Please, let’s go home.”

“I can’t enjoy my evening if I don’t settle out my confrontations,” she said snippily. “Let me do this.”

She joined the line to meet “Stone Cold.”

Joshua kept his hand in his pocket, sadly palming the small box hidden there. He had planned to give this to her after the show, but he knew her well, and what she had said was true. She needed to tell somebody off. If she came out on top, she would be in the finest possible mood and he could continue his plan without a hitch. However, if she lost face… he might have to re-plan this whole thing.

But the closer they got, the smaller his current dilemma got, and the bigger “Stone Cold” got. Joshua’s courage was wilting, but Lana simply held her head higher. At last their turn in line came.

“MISTER ‘Stone Cold’ Steve Austin,” Lana began huffily. “I have to something to say to you!”

“Stone Cold” took her hand in one of his ham fists. “Hello beautiful,” he said pleasantly.

Lana’s eyes bulged, and her face turned bright pink. Her opera glasses had not done him justice. Up close, his eyes were ocean deep, his bald pate such a compelling shape. She couldn’t remember what she was angry about. “W-would you like to join us for a late coffee?”

Part 3 by Michael at Morpethroad.

Joshua couldn’t believe the same Lana he had earlier taken out was now standing starry-eyed and blushing in front “Stone Cold”.

She muttered something he took as a yes and then followed him and his entourage into a nearby coffee shop. By now her focus was on the former wrestler, and Joshua was feeling totally ignored. So much for all his plans for the evening.

In the coffee shop, Steve was surrounded by sycophantic admirers and as the evening progressed he appeared to be lapping up all the attention they gave to him.

By now Lana had become completely enamoured by him and by her second cup she was sitting on his knee, stroking his pate with one hand while gurgling sweet nothings into his ear.

“Stone Cold” appeared to be becoming less stone cold by the minute and began fondling Lana in ways Joshua thought was his domain only. To make it worse, Lana was in the throes of enjoyment and in Joshua’s opinion was making a right spectacle of herself.

Finally, Joshua had had enough and…