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 It lay crouching at the end of a long alley, dark and foreboding in a Machiavellian sense. Nothing had been so imperfect before. Glass shards littered the pavement, making it seem almost impassable. Marina could hear the soft strains of music filtering into the street from the wide double doors in front of her. She studied the intricate design on the doors before entering.

Woven into deep patterns of mystery and chaos, it told the story of The Dragon King of the Sea, Ryujin, who once upon a time, befriended the exalted Prince Fire Fade, the great-grandson of the sun goddess Amaterasu. Ryujin gave the Prince his daughter as a wife, and provided him with a wealth of magic jewels that controlled the tides of the seas, oceans and lakes.

But tragedy soon befell the prince. When his wife, the daughter of the dragon, was about to give birth to their first child, she begged the prince to leave her in seclusion during the birth. But alas he was a foolish young man, and he disobeyed her wishes, and accidentally saw her giving birth to their child. She was in the shape of a dragon. When she saw that he had seen her, she wept and fled back to the sea, and sent her sister to look after the baby in her stead.

No one knows what happened after that, but it is rumored that the sister gave birth to the first emperor of Japan in 660 B.C. The door told this story for all that entered it. Why, she had no idea.

Marina entered the club with the expectations of meeting her five friends for an early drink before dinner. But she sorely regretted the fact that the night was going to go down in history as the biggest pile of shite to hit the fan. Tonight is the night Marina will break up with her boyfriend/lover/thing. And she was dreading it more than the apocalypse.

She caught sight of her friends in a corner table bathed in blood red lights, surrounded by a gazillion mirrors and such. They had obviously had a head start on the evening’s festivities and many an empty glass festooned the table with more on the way. The ashtray was already full of a variety of cocktail cigarettes and cloves, and one ghetto style blunt (half-smoked) that she surely doubted was tobacco.

Marian pulled up a padded seat and was greeted with an onslaught of slurred greetings in high pitched wails of five very drunk, and horny, women. She doubted she would get out of the snake pit alive. She sighed as she poured herself a drink of lord knows what from a decanter on the table and slugged it down trying to catch up. Well she was really trying to steel herself for the operatic drama of breaking off her relationship with a man she really did love, but had to break up with for many trying reasons. 

Oh come off it. Us women have all been there. We have all at one time or another broken up with a man for the most ridiculous reasons in the world. His shirts are the wrong colors. He wears tighty-whities. He’s uncircumcised. He makes less money than you. He doesn’t go down on you long enough. Okay I take it back…that last one is actually a very good reason to dump a guy.

That’s not why Marina wanted to break up with him. In fact, she had been trying for several months now to break up with him. She has pulled him aside, preferably in public, to break it off gently. But men aren’t that stupid, they can tell by the tone in your voice “we need to talk” those dreaded four words… even worse than the infamous three words “I love you”, and even more so than the wholly perfidious six word “ I just want to be friends”.

Ah the tragedy of it all…

Anyways, it always starts out well, she feels she’s making progress, she’s planning her singlehood, blah, blah, blah…until he looks at her with those come hither eyes. And she melts. Yes that's right ladies and gentlemen... she melts. Her knees simply give out and they end up going to his place and having it off. Well, sort of. Honestly to be quite vulgar, he performs cunnilingus on her till she passes out. And she gives up on breaking up with him because she honestly feels that there is no other man or woman on this planet who can get her rocks off like he can.

He’s like the gold medallist of cunnilingus. He’s like a man with a bullet…ready to go off at any second and tug her knickers down. And well. You know. And if you don’t I feel sorry for ya.

I mean sure they had sex and all. But he knew he wielded a magic wand over her with his talent. He was good in the sack but great with the tongue. And he knew it.

So why in the hell would any woman want to break up with a man like that? Well she had a lot of reasons.

1. He sings Gary Glitter in the shower.
2. He has 19 different kinds of jam in the cupboards.
3. He thinks he’s funny, but he’s not.
4. He’s kind of portly, but still kind of sexy.
5. He wears more makeup than she.
6. He thinks recanting old Monty python jokes over and over doesn’t get old after a few years.
7. Umm…well she ran out of stuff there

But still, she had very good reasons for wanting to break up with him she tries to convince herself quite unsuccessfully. Well, it’s either break up with him or marry him. Oh goodness, waking up with him every single morning, while her friends toffed it up with every bloke on the street. Till death do us part and all that, 2.3 kids and a picket fence and PTA meetings. Ah the Horror!

She sat in her corner table with five drunken women and thought about the day her asked her to marry him. It was her birthday and he had taken her to a quaint seaside village bed and breakfast. They had been walking for a few hours along the sea when he plopped down on one knee into the sand and whipped out a ring and asked her to be his wife. Well she sort of fainted after that, waking up in their room surrounded by the owner and her “fiancée” plying her with warm brandy. She never did give him and answer. That was two weeks ago. And they haven’t spoken since.

She had a million messages on her machine from him. Begging her to call. Begging her not to call. Snippets of him expressing his fervent love and desire for her that would make her cry for the rest of the night. She had finally agreed to meet tonight at the restaurant where they had met a year or so ago. She knew she loved him. But she was so very scared of what will happen next.

Marina was sloppy drunk by this point. Three of her friends were dancing on the tables and about to get kicked out, and the other two were making out, attracting all sorts of male attentions. Her head was starting to pound, when she spied a pair of blue eyes gazing at her from across the room. Oh good lord, it was him.

She knew it was going to go very bad when he began to walk over. She stubbed her cigarette out and steeled herself. He stood over her, dressed quite fetchingly in a maroon silk suit, high heels and looking wayyyyyy too sexy, with his eyeliner drawn around his sexy eyes. Ohhh, she knew she wasn’t going to be able to break it off. He’s just too blasted sexy. Bloody hell, he was reaching out for her!

He dragged her off into the loo and locked the door behind him. He shoved her up against the wall and began to devour her with his ruby-red lips. She could feel the heat of his body reaching through her thin blue dress. He reached down to her leg and pulled her knee up higher, pushing himself further into her embrace. He traced a path down her neck with his lips, and settled on a spot on her shoulders.

His hands were reaching down to her hips and she knew what he was after. Oh but what the hell. She’ll just have to marry him. Live happily ever after. Gary Glitter and all.