Finish it, if you dare.

[image error] So, I thought I had a stroke of genius, but obviously I've been too deep in the bottle again. I love it when a plan doesn't come together. What? I'm not making any sense? Well I'm drunk, what do you expect.



Okay, so I'm not really drunk. But I'm seriously thinking about it. Thanks to those adventurous souls who helped this story limp along. You guys are awesome. Here's what we have so far:



"Let's play," she flung her coat over the chair. "Only this time, we're gonna play by my rules."



"What? Now you want to play? Give me a break." He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned toward the door.



He didn't like relinquishing control, especially not to her.



Besides, he knew what was in the coat



She kicked the chair in his path then sauntered over like a jaguar, long limbs and grit.



"You've underestimated me," she fingered the edge of the coat, smiling wickedly.



"Don't touch the coat," he growled, pulling it around himself protectively.



"You look damn silly in that. Pink's just not your colour."



"You really want to play? Then the coat is not pink; it's blue." The coat changed color.



"Pink or blue, you shouldn't have that coat or what is in it. I taught you better than that."



Something rippled inside the coat pocket, long, languid bumps and grinds as if it were looking for a way out.







We have a lot of inconsistencies here. Care to point out what and where they are?

 

And...I've changed the rules. Why? Because it's my Edge and I can. Like it or lump it. What's the change? Well, because we're all busy, and I think you want this over with as much as I do, I'm going to make this short and sweet.

 

End it.

 

Best ending wins a book of his or her choice. Go.