Okay, the princess movie did not suck - that shit was funny in places. And, yeah, it was. . . cool when the pair got together at the end. Plus he liked Columbo as the granddad. But he couldn't really say any of it was turning him into a Casanova.
Lassiter glanced over. "We're not done yet. "
"Just keep beering me. "
"Ask and ye shall receive. "
The angel handed him a freshie and disappeared into the control room to switch DVDs. As he came back down to where they were sitting, the screen lit up with -
Tohr jacked forward in his seat. "What the hell!"
As Lassiter's big body cut through the projection onto the screen, a gigantic pair of flapping breasts covered his face and chest. "Adventures in the MILFy Way. A true classic. "
"It's porn!"
"Duh - "
"Okay, I am not sitting through this with you. "
The angel, still standing up, shrugged. "Just wanted to make sure you know what you're missing. "
Moans rumbled through the surround sound as those boobs. . . those frickin' boobs looked like they were slapping Lassiter in the piehole -
Tohr covered his eyes at the horror. "No! Not doing this!"
Lassiter cut off the movie, the sounds disappearing. And a quick intrafinger check indicated that it was a stop, not a pause, mercifully.
"I'm just trying to get through to you. " Lassiter sat down, cracked open a beer, and looked tired. "Man, this angel crap. . . it's so fucking hard to influence anything. I've never had a problem with free will before, but for shit's sake, I wish I could just I Dream of Jeannie you to where you need to be. " As Tohr winced, the angel muttered, "It's okay, though. We'll get you there somehow - "
"Actually, I'm cringing at the vision of you in a pink harem costume. "
"Hey, I have a great ass, I'll have you know. "
They drank beer for a while until a Sony logo started to appear at random points on the screen. "You ever been in love?" Tohr asked.
"Once. Never again. "
"What happened. " When the angel didn't answer, Tohr shot a look over. "Oh, so it's fine for you to be all up in my dark-and-dirty, but you can't return the favor?"
Lassiter shrugged. Opened yet another beer. "You know what I think?"
"Not unless you tell me. "
"I think we should try another epi of Moonlighting. "
Tohr exhaled long and slow and had to agree. It didn't suck watching movies with the guy, talking over the dialogue while drinking Sam Adams and eating crap food. In fact, he could not remember the last time he'd ever just. . . hung out.
Of course, it must have been with Wellsie. If he'd had downtime, he'd always spent it with her.
God, how many days had they frittered away, mindlessly checking out in front of the television, watching reruns and crappy cable movies and droning newscasts. They'd held hands, or she'd lain on his chest, or he'd played with her hair.
Such wasted time, he thought. But when they'd been in that suck zone of minutes and hours, it had been. . . a simple, easy kind of bliss.
One more thing to mourn.
"How about something later in Willis's career?" he said roughly.
"Die Hard?"