Louise Belcher and Calvin Fischoeder

are gettin' hitched!

August 1st, 2016

Join us at 7 o'clock

The Whonder Wharf

4701 Front Street

Peck's City, New Jersey

Merriment to follow

"Mrs. Louise Fischoeder..." Louise breathed out, examining the heavy, stainless ring on her finger - it's encrusted, blood red ruby shimmering slightly. It was an expensive thing - well crafted and saturated in color - costing about 30 thousand. Of course, such a price meant nothing to Calvin - whose comb (previously owned by Richard Nixon) cost twice as much.

"Not much of an improvement from Belcher."

"Well, which one is better - a burp or a fishy smell?" Tina retorted, fixed not on her sister's garish ring but on her half-lidded gaze. The two sat across from another, a small table separating them, within the conservatory (a room that Louise had once, genuinely, thought was for radical Republican debates or something), surrounded by various leafy plants, that, upon close examination, would reveal themselves to be artificial.

"Well, I'd even take the name 'Fuckwit'. As long as I end up marrying Calvin, I'll be good." Louise rested into her woven chair, arms folding themselves - noticeably covering her ringed hand in the process. There was a brief moment of silence between the two: Tina sipping her coffee and Louise looking out at the fresh grass enveloping the property and taking note of two lengthy blades that needed clipping, Absentmindedly, she asked "So why aren't you moving in here again?"
"Jimmy Jr. and I really need to live above his restaurant. We're really happy to be having our own place soon."
"Jimmy Jr. doesn't seem to dislike the house - not one bit."
"I just want to have a home of our own, Louise. It's nothing...personal…"

"Okay, Tina, I know you're not very fond of Calvin." Louise blurted out slightly, eyes still plastered to the lawn outside. She could feel Tina's anxious gaze, eyebrows knitting out of worry. The family's disapproval of Louise's husband-to-be was rather evident - particularly due to her mother's excessive carping about the matter. Not that Tina was ever rude to her fiancé - god no. But Louise knew her sister, and she knew when she didn't like someone. Tina would become awkward - well "awkward-er" - and overly formal. No jokes, no candid statements. Just a courteous nod and rather faltering small talk. Calvin wasn't phased by it. He didn't realize the meaning in Tina's stiff behavior. But, then again, Calvin was such a "spry" character that he was typically blind to the issues of others.

"I don't hate him, Louise. I'm just…"

"-Horrified?" She sneered.

"Surprised."

Louise couldn't argue with that. It was a surprise. A big surprise.

At eighteen, Louise was determined to get some knowledge in business so she could actually run her father's restaurant properly. She decided that Mr. Fischoeder was going to teach her a thing or two about marketing and what not. That man resisted with nearly the same intensity that Louise insisted he mentor her. While he would lock her out of the colossal mansion, she would root herself right outside - enduring drizzling storms and harsh winds. When he abandoned her at some distant warehouse and made a run for it, she walked fifteen miles just to knock on his door and deliver a smug grin. When he pretended that he wasn't home, she would climb the four story building to enter in through a skylight.

Yes, Louise was a feisty one - a cunning little spitfire who would, ultimately, end up being Mr. Fischoeder's finest protégée. Within two years, Louise had managed to double the income of the wharf. This was mainly done through the integrating of online advertising, as well through the pulling of various strings amongst her array of oddball friends. She formed a chain of successful go-karts with Critter, produced a collection of glitzy wine shoes, published a book of her father's recipes, used jingles made by her prodigious brother, and blackmailed various friends or even enemies into promoting the wharf.

One day, in the midst of her rising success, Mr. Fischoeder arrived early from a date to their shared office. Louise recalled focusing on a list of tax reductions, not thinking much about her partner's unending gaze on her.

"Rough date, Fish?" She asked, now scribbling something on the paper.

"No, actually." Calvin said, timidly scratching at a scuff mark on the table. "She was pleasant. Shallow. Big breasted. Blonde. The perfect woman."
"So what's the deal? Why aren't you two shagging in the hedge maze or something."
"Well, Louise…" He was pacing now, catching Louise's attention. What was going on? What was wrong? Oh god - was the date an undercover journalist? Acquiring info on their rumored partnership with a motorcycle gang? Or their hiring of a convicted bank robber? "I found myself - for the first time - bored."
"What do you mean?"
"I felt unfulfilled. I wasn't having a good time. Which is...very strange for me. I'm not a substance-over- style - or brains-over-boobs - type of man. I've always been…" He trailed off now, exhaling an exasperated sigh - as if he were finally finished with something.

"Calvin?" Louise murmured, now nearing his turned away figure. She flinched slightly when he spoke again - this time with a more determined tone.

"Louise Belcher, would you marry me?"

"This is going to be Mom and Dad's room." Louise explained, she and her sister standing in the doorframe of a vacant bedroom with torn up carpets. "I'm still in the process of painting the walls so they're the same color as their old bedroom. And, of course, I gave them the room closest to the kitchen."
"And Gene's room?" Tina said, wondering into the arid bedroom, finger feeling the faded walls.

"Right by the music room, so he can make whatever tunes he wants."
"Where would you have put my room, Louise?"

"Probably near the library so you could read whenever you wanted to." She answered, her voice then dropping low and bashful. "Also, that room is near the nursery - for your future kid or whatever."
Tina melted slightly at Louise's coyness, which she knew to be a poor attempt on her sister's part to hide her "secret" soft side. Louise was looking down now, toe digging into the carpet, hand gripping the knob.

"Won't you and Calvin need that nursery for your own kids?" Tina asked - all quiet humiliation draining from Louise's face in exchange for blushing, vibrant degradation.

"Kids!?" She squeaked. "Oh god, no - no kids for us."

"Really? Why?"
"Tina, come on. Can you really see me with a screaming brat? Dealing with breast pumps? Changing somebody else's diapers-"

"As opposed to your own diapers." Tina interjected, her sister ignoring the smart comment.

"Either you carry your own weight or you fall behind - that's my motto."
"Really? Because you are housing your family - free of charge."

Louise tensed at this, mouth contorting out of the humiliation of being proven wrong. "Psh. 'Free of charge'. Those assholes are gonna be cleaning this place up - spick and span. Then Cal and I won't have to hire any more help around her."

"Are you too afraid to have sex with Calvin? Is that why you're not having kids?" Tina bluntly said, her tone not being interrogating, assuming, or frantic, but rather casual.

"What? No! I-" She sputtered, now crossing her arms. God, why did romance always seem to entail Louise's vulnerability? "I've had sex with Calvin, Tina."

"How many times?'

"Many - just this morning actually…." Louise recalled how their relations had occurred on an antique chair in the library, a product of their mimosa and muffin breakfast. Louise decided to not mention this detail, for fear that if Tina knew, the library might not seem as delectable of a place anymore.

Louise never really had much of a sex drive - surprisingly. She was a fiery, vivacious person, but not one with physical needs. And Calvin was a horny pervert - but a controlled one who, after years of experience, was skilled in the bedroom. Her future-husband had described how, during the seventies, he once lived on a hippie commune that had regular orgies, and, another time, enacted the famous A Clockwork Orange love scene with some broad in a wintery NYC. In the eighties, he spent a painful, shrill night with a woman he was sure was Madonna in the midst of her "Like a Virgin" phase - only for it to turn out that she was a rather tussled runaway bride. Before his relationship with Louise, he would frequently engage in "friends with benefits" relations with the various women he had acquainted himself with.

Despite his sexual appetite, Calvin was gentle with Louise - never doing any of the "freaky stuff" he used to engage in, and showed an extreme dainty tenderness towards her when she gave her virginity away - an experience that actually occurred in the hedge maze. She didn't mind that he would be her only lover, or his wrinkled state. Though "finely aged", her fiance was still a … "limber", lively man - something that compensated for his less than boyish looks.

"How many times have you and Jimmy Jr. had sex?" Louise interjected, coming back from her thoughts.

"A lot of times. I don't know the exact number, though. Maybe I should start counting." Tina responded, not at all embarrassed by the question. "I wish we could do it more, but that's difficult now with us packing and with how many people are in the house right now."

"Are there more people in the house now?" Louise snorted, only to get an awkward silence from her sister. "Tina?"

"Uh...no…"
"T, What are you not telling me?"

"I have to get going now, Louise. I'll see you at dinner later." She said, now speed walking down the stairs and towards the door as Louise followed after her.

"T!"

"You'll find out soon enough!" Tina yelled, grabbing her coat off the hook and slipping out the door. Louise would've pressed her further - maybe even tackled her down to the grass. But she decided she was too mature for those kind of activities now. She was a businesswomen. A wealthy woman. Wealthy women don't tackle people to the ground - unless that person is a bottle blonde of equal fortune and is named something like Cheryl or Brenda. Besides, whatever was going on, she would figure it out when she arrived home - at her old home - for dinner.