By Sunday I had noticed that the typical snappy cyber banter from Donna, our Senior Correspondent had fallen silent. So I picked up the phone to give a call to her and Bill down in the wilds of North Carolina, where beast and homophobe live as one.
I suppose it was possible that they had just gotten into a long scene involving the "excruciating" sufferance by Donna of multiple orgasms under Bill's calm but stern hand. But I wanted to check to make sure they had not succumbed to a mud slide, or a Cherokee uprising.
As it turned out, it was worse than I imagined: the good folks at AT&T had somehow fucked up their internet connection. As Donna recounted (i.e., ranted) to me, they had been persuaded to switch out from that old fashioned (but reliable) DSL service to some sort of new fangled service that was supposed to be oh-so-much better. That involved disconnecting the DSL service, and hooking them up to the new service in what allegedly would be a single seamless service call.
Right.
The DSL was disconnected all right. But the crackerjack AT&T "technicians" were unable to consummate the new service. The horror of Internet Interruptus ensued. They say Bill and Donna may have service some time on Wednesday. But who knows?
By the time I talked to Donna again on Monday afternoon she was in a full blown internet withdrawal rage. It was the equivalent of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson going cold turkey (as opposed to Wild Turkey).
And the effects were very interesting. Donna is typically the consummate submissive, always ready to fall to her knees and open her mouth at the drop of a domly command. But now she's imagining all sorts of exquisite horrors she might impose upon the AT&T guys should they fail to perform as promised on Wednesday.
There was something about stringing one of them from the rafters of their cabin, with intermittent applications of a flogger and a hitachi until he went insane.
Then there was a threat to suspend a whole crowd of them from the trees nearby, completely nude, and smeared with honey, so that the insects and wildlife might feast on them.
It's funny how 48 hours of internet withdrawal can expose Donna's inner sadist.
Let's hope those guys can perform adequately soon, or Bill himself could find himself spreadeagled on the bed, with nothing to do but suffer the clothes pins Donna is maniacally applying to his tenderest parts.
God speed AT&T guys!