The Real Story of Cincinnati Chili, Part 6

Have I ever mentioned that I'm not a big fan of Hannistina's chili?

To brush up on what was happening, here is Part 5.                                                           I realize what cruel and unusual punishment it has been for you faithful readers to wait so long to discover Hannistina's next brilliant move.  Blame baby Megan...luckily she's cute enough to counterbalance all that criticism.  On to the story...                                   Hannistina allowed his arm to guide her across the street to her house and even handed him the keys to unlock the door.  It was fun to be taken care of.  She made her way into  the kitchen, hurrying to warm last night's disastrous dish.  She herself had come to think that it was one of her best creations.  The warm, comforting dish was not a delicacy, for sure, but it did have it's own charm.  She 
scooped  the chili into her favorite bowl and generously topped it with freshly grated Cheddar cheese.  She added a spoon and presented Dudley with her creation.  Dudley took 
the dish, closed his eyes and sniffed.  A smile crossed his face.  He tried one bite.  He took another bite.       "Oh, Hannistina."      Hannistina's eyes met Dudley's  as he leaned closer.  Hannistina was shocked.  She did not have time to react as Dudley's lips met hers.  This was not the reaction she had in mind! 
  
     A combination of instinct and self-defense classes took over.   She vigorously screamed and grabbed his arm from her waist, twisting it until Dudley  flipped  completely over.  Panic had given her superhuman strength.  As his portly  frame hit the tiled floor with a thud, his head flew back, slamming into the ceramic countertop, jarring the tupperware container of chili over the edge of the counter and into the sink.  Lucklily, the bulk of the contents were 
caught in the strainer full of spaghetti Hannistina had forgotten about when she left on  her errand. Dudley, rendered unconscious by the impact, was unaware of the  large, reddened counter mark on his expansive balding forehead.  After the initial shock, Hannistina distinctly remembered trying to run three ways all at once--to the ringing phone, the chili spaghetti draining into the sink, and to the unfortunate bulky, bruised specimen on the floor.  It was a moment of chaos  she would always remember in later years every time someone ordered what she  would affectionately name the "three way".                                                                       ***Note:  For those of you not from the Cincinnati area, a three way is a way to order chili on spaghetti with cheese on top.  Local places keep adding toppings as ordered, thus creating the five way, etc.  I wonder if it goes higher than that...I have no idea.  Perhaps a local could fill us in...or I could just google the Skyline website...or not.  (cue music: "It's Skyline time...")                  Ah, yes.  As I recall, it was another writer who was feeling sentimental as this installment was nearing Valentine's Day.  I had different plans for our heroine, though, and inserted the injury.  Sorry to spoil your hopes of a sweet, romantic ending, C********.  (Name left out to protect the writer's identity).                       Stay tuned...the next installment is one of my favorites.  It's a great insight into Hannistina's manic-depressive, chocolate-obsessive behavior.  I know you're on pins and needles...