Big Fat Sexy Lips

Jim, an amiable 30-something slouchy/phlegmy type stood idly waiting for the elevator door to close.

That's when a girl with big, lusciously delicious lips walked in. When I say big, I mean inflated to the point that one might seriously believe that Phileas Fogg could ride them around the world in 79.54 days. If they were breasts, a new bra size called "Flappy McBiggums" would have to be created to hold their ample bosomage.

Some men find these sort of trout-pout lips attractive. Why? Not really sure, but it might be worth checking this article out if you're curious as to an intelligent person's thoughts on the matter.

Jim was excited, (he, of the "big lips = big boner" extraction), but also slightly turned off. She was talking loudly on a cell phone in a small space, which was a social faux pas right up there with cutting in line or invading Poland. For some reason or another most people are annoyed by these things, but rarely do anything except cough loudly. The world is going to Hell in a handbasket, or at least heck in a decorative purse.

Big Lips eyed Jim and spoke up, "Rach...I gotta get off the phone. Yeah, there's a cute guy here and I gotta get his number".

Jim's heart raced faster than anyone's heart ever raced in the history of heart racing. He momentarily thought he could get it sponsored by Armor All, but with the next words out of Big Lips' mouth, his heart would slow to a tortoise-like crawl.

She hung up and looked at him with a slightly quizzical grin, "Oh, I'm lying. I just wanted to get off the phone with her".

"Really?" Jim asked. "Because it sounded like..."

"Nope...didn't sound like anything."

Jim deflated like Big Lips' lips had they been punctured with some sort of lip puncturing machine. Sunken, slunk and drawn he sign a thousand sighs at once.

Noting the awkwardness, Big Lips hit "door open" and got out on the 13th floor, which was weird because the building didn't have a 13th floor. Her body was discovered about an hour later.

As for Jim, it reminded him of the last conversation he had with his ex-girlfriend when he ran into her at "Liberal Outrager '08: The Only Kegger for Angsty Upper West Siders"

JIM: I fucking love you, Jacklyn.
JACKLYN: Love me? We slept together once.
JIM: Yeah, but it was so amazing. I felt like I was a stroke victim after we came.
JACKLYN: We came?
JIM: Oh come on, you were moaning like a banshee.
JACKLYN: We were fucking in a kitchen, I was being punctured by a fork.
JIM: That was my penis.

Realizing that these two moments underscored the fact that his life was becoming a neurotic hodge-podge of misadventure, Jim knew it was time for a change. Yes, he was going to stand up straight, irrigate his sinuses 3 times a day, and use toilet paper rather than the "oh, no one can smell that" method. He was to be a new man.

He exited the elevator with the newfound confidence of someone who was lying to themselves.  Deciding this was a great moment for him, he coughed loudly: FUCK FAUX PAS! The world was his oyster and nothing could take that away from him.

Unfortunately, he coughed so loudly that he didn't hear passersby screaming, "look out for that falling Big Lipped Woman!" or indeed the Big Lipped Woman above him, screaming "Ahhh! There's no 13th floor!"

She hit him with dead accuracy, her lips exploding on impact, landing square on his face. His last thought was "ahh, the truest of true love...the kind that kills you."