Wild Night

She gives you a strange look. You feel pretty stupid. She shuts the long curtains in her room and lights a couple of candles, using your Zippo for the second time this evening. She asks you to lie down on the rug in the middle of her room. She grabs a bottle of what looks like some kind of exotic massage oil and rubs it on your chest, smiling the whole time. Your head is spinning with excitement. She says something to you but you're not really listening. She leans back to grab what you hope is a condom. Then she stands over you, buck naked. "You ready?" she whispers desperately. You think it's obvious that you're ready, if you know what I mean. She licks her lips in anticipation and thrusts a dagger through your heart. Dammit, you forgot to tell her that murderers aren't your type.