Post by Sarah on Apr 13, 2009 14:48:08 GMT -5
"Sir Zeno. Death," Sarah said, listing off the names of the two BOBsters she had defeated to win the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS. "And Dr. Silaconne M. Plants makes three."
"Did somebody say threesome? Honey, you have no shot of beating Plants. You can't even get rid of ME! BWAHAHAHA!" It was Scotty Whatbody. Scotty took a seat across from his unhappy wife at a table inside the Robster Craw restaurant in Sin City's Chinatown district.
"Yeah. Figures he went and did a Rant in a restaurant when I totally planned to do this one. And Scotty, I'm so rid of you."
She pulled out a legal document out from under the table and tossed it in his direction.
"D to the I to V to the O to the R to the C to E. Sign it before I bust your kneecap."
"Hey, I'm not a jobber."
"You manage one."
"Hey! Don't insult my client. He's very sensitive."
"Look, Scotty, I had a feeling you were going to pull this crap. So, I brought a friend to make sure you sign."
"You HAVE friends?"
Scotty was jolted as two hands smacked down onto his shoulders.
"Sign the papers," a man's voice said.
A young blonde waitress, probably in her early-20s came up the table, looked at Sarah, then Scotty, then the man behind Scotty. "Drinks?"
"Water, no lemon, please," Sarah said.
"Nothing for my friend here," the man behind Scotty said. "But I'll have a Dos Equis."
"OK. Would you like to hear our specials?" the waitress asked.
"Give us a minute," the man behind Scotty said. "But once we get our business done here, I'd love to know what the catch of the day is. And I'm guessing, it's you, honey."
The waitress blushed and walked away.
"Scotty. You feel this? That isn't my cock in your back."
"Well, THAT'S a relief."
"It's a gun."
"Oh, really? Well, would you mind sticking your dick against my back instead? I'd rather get shot by that, honestly"
"Wow, Axl's really rubbing off on you."
"That's a LIE! I told him never to rub one off near me after that incident at the movie theater. It's just, I don't wanna get fatally shot tonight."
The man behind Scotty laughed. "Then sign the paper. Just scribble your name and cross those T's, and you can walk out of here."
"I don't suppose you'd be willing to pay for a meal? I haven't had a decent meal in like three hours."
Sarah sighed. "Fine." She dug into her purse and pulled out a $20 bill. "You can have it once you sign. YOUR name. And initial where all those little yellow flags are."
Reluctantly, Scotty picked up a pen and signed and initialed as instructed. And with that, it was over.
"Now, get up. Don't turn around. And never bother Sarah ever again. Get it?"
"Got it," Scotty said.
"Good," Sarah said. Then she stuffed the $20 bill down her black sleeveless T-shirt.
"You think that will deter ME from getting my cash money?"
"You go into my shirt and you'll pull back a stump. 'K?" Sarah said.
"Bitch."
Scotty walked away. And the man took a seat across from Sarah.
"Thanks, Trey," Sarah said with the slightest hint of a smile.
"No worries," Trey Vincent said, taking a slug of beer and dropping a yellow highlighter that Scotty mistook for a gun on the table. "Oh, this is the greatest beer on earth. And his promos are the shit!"
"Zuh?"
"Nothing," Trey said with a mischievous smile. "So, Sarah, it's like 2:50 p.m. After we eat here, I'm taking you over to happy hour at this hot new club. No arguments."
"Beer doesn't agree with me."
"Neither do I, but you keep hanging out with me anyway, don't you?"
"I need cooler friends."
The waitress returned with their drinks. She was quiet, trying not to make eye contact with Trey.
"So what's the special this lovely afternoon, aside from you?" Trey asked. The girl blushed again and was quite flustered for a few moments.
"Just ignore him," Sarah told the waitress. "Besides, he has a miniscule penis. Bigger than Studs, but just barely."
"You've seen Studs' cock?" Trey asked.
"I've done more than seen it," Sarah said, cocking an eyebrow.
"You whore. But his is smaller?"
"You're signing my paycheck and we're both faces at the moment, so yes. Much tinier."
"Hey, what's your name?" Trey asked while staring at the waitress's breasts.
"Trey!"
"I'm looking for her name tag. Partially, at least."
"I'm…Sarah."
"Me too!"
"Oh man. That's too confusing, especially for novel RPs. What's your middle name?"
"Michelle."
"Oh, COME ON! You can't both be Sarah Michelles and blonde!"
"Sorry," Sarah said.
"Can't help it, really," Sarah said.
"See?!" Trey yelled for no apparent reason.
"See what?" Sarah asked.
"What are you talking about?" Sarah asked.
"OK. Sarah The Waitress, I have an important question for you. Do you like fish sticks?"
"Yeah," Sarah the Waitress said, smiling shyly.
"Do you like to put fish sticks in your mouth?"
"Yeah," Sarah the Waitress said, still smiling shyly.
"What about male dicks? Do you also like to put those in your mouth?"
"TREY!" Sarah the Slayer yelled, while also kicking the ever loving heck out of his shins under the table.
"Ow!" Trey screamed out. "What the fuck, Sarah?"
"Yeah," Sarah the Waitress said quietly.
"Sarah?" Sarah the Slayer said, disappointed. "Why aren't you slapping him?"
"He's cute and funny. And, y'know. Stuff."
"Wow," said a stunned Sarah the Slayer.
"When do you get off work? I'm taking the other Sarah Michelle over to a strip...I mean, a club for happy hour."
"Um, Trey?" Sarah the Slayer said, tapping her fingers on the table. "Is this 'club' you're taking me to a 'strip club.'"
"Oh, waitress Sarah, if you're interested, I have a black latex catsuit and a dominatrix outfit back at my place."
The waitress laughed. "Wild. So, hey, you guys wanna eat?"
"Do you have anything that smells like fish and tastes like chicken?" Trey asked innocently.
"Umm…"
"It's a joke, honey. I'll have some fish tacos," Trey said.
Sarah the Slayer pouted. "Wasn't this MY Rant, Trey? You've totally taken over. I have a big match against SMP on iMPLOSION 20. Oh, and I'll have the robster pizza. Thanks."
Trey watched Sarah the Waitress walk away while he finished emptying his first bottle of beer. Then his attention turned back to his ex-girlfriend.
"Sarah, if anybody knows how to get you to the pinnacle, it's Trey Vincent. And let's face it. Without me, you wouldn't be a two-time former ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS. Plenty of the boys in the back never wanted a chick to hold the top title. SMP is probably right at the top of the list."
"He's totally sexist," Sarah said, nodding. "And he's totally old."
"Yeah. The odds of him falling asleep mid-match are pretty good. I'll have to make sure to tell production to put on some James Varga promos in the background while your match is going on."
"Devious. Me likee," Sarah said, smiling.
"Hey, can I borrow a quarter?"
"Sure. What for?"
"Umm…" Trey looked around the restaurant nervously, then leaned in close and began whispering to Sarah. "I'll be honest with you. I want SMP's nose trimmer."
"A world of ewwww. Why?"
"There's nothing hotter than a chick who's trimmed as bare as a 6-year-old girl up there."
"Oh. My. God."
"Don't tell anybody, OK?"
"Your secret is safe with me and everyone reading this disturbing…Trey? I'm speechless. I have no speech."
"Look. Let's bottom line this. Sarah, I believe in you, and I've believed in your since I laid eyes on your hot, hot ass back in 2002. You can beat SMP. You can totally fuck up our plans for Gluttons for Punishment 2. I don't care. I'll have a four-way steel cage loser leaves BOB quadruple ladder match between you, Jerri, Kobe and SMP if you win the OWTTM on iMPLOSION. We'll have three contracts and the OWTTM hanging over the ring. It's that simple. I'm the Executive Producer, and I can do whatever I want."
"That was kinda sweet, Trey. Thanks. At iMPLOSION 20, SMP go job. You've already lost your money and your health. Only one thing left to lose. MY TITLE. Retire? Me? I'm not going anywhere."
"Did somebody say threesome? Honey, you have no shot of beating Plants. You can't even get rid of ME! BWAHAHAHA!" It was Scotty Whatbody. Scotty took a seat across from his unhappy wife at a table inside the Robster Craw restaurant in Sin City's Chinatown district.
"Yeah. Figures he went and did a Rant in a restaurant when I totally planned to do this one. And Scotty, I'm so rid of you."
She pulled out a legal document out from under the table and tossed it in his direction.
"D to the I to V to the O to the R to the C to E. Sign it before I bust your kneecap."
"Hey, I'm not a jobber."
"You manage one."
"Hey! Don't insult my client. He's very sensitive."
"Look, Scotty, I had a feeling you were going to pull this crap. So, I brought a friend to make sure you sign."
"You HAVE friends?"
Scotty was jolted as two hands smacked down onto his shoulders.
"Sign the papers," a man's voice said.
A young blonde waitress, probably in her early-20s came up the table, looked at Sarah, then Scotty, then the man behind Scotty. "Drinks?"
"Water, no lemon, please," Sarah said.
"Nothing for my friend here," the man behind Scotty said. "But I'll have a Dos Equis."
"OK. Would you like to hear our specials?" the waitress asked.
"Give us a minute," the man behind Scotty said. "But once we get our business done here, I'd love to know what the catch of the day is. And I'm guessing, it's you, honey."
The waitress blushed and walked away.
"Scotty. You feel this? That isn't my cock in your back."
"Well, THAT'S a relief."
"It's a gun."
"Oh, really? Well, would you mind sticking your dick against my back instead? I'd rather get shot by that, honestly"
"Wow, Axl's really rubbing off on you."
"That's a LIE! I told him never to rub one off near me after that incident at the movie theater. It's just, I don't wanna get fatally shot tonight."
The man behind Scotty laughed. "Then sign the paper. Just scribble your name and cross those T's, and you can walk out of here."
"I don't suppose you'd be willing to pay for a meal? I haven't had a decent meal in like three hours."
Sarah sighed. "Fine." She dug into her purse and pulled out a $20 bill. "You can have it once you sign. YOUR name. And initial where all those little yellow flags are."
Reluctantly, Scotty picked up a pen and signed and initialed as instructed. And with that, it was over.
"Now, get up. Don't turn around. And never bother Sarah ever again. Get it?"
"Got it," Scotty said.
"Good," Sarah said. Then she stuffed the $20 bill down her black sleeveless T-shirt.
"You think that will deter ME from getting my cash money?"
"You go into my shirt and you'll pull back a stump. 'K?" Sarah said.
"Bitch."
Scotty walked away. And the man took a seat across from Sarah.
"Thanks, Trey," Sarah said with the slightest hint of a smile.
"No worries," Trey Vincent said, taking a slug of beer and dropping a yellow highlighter that Scotty mistook for a gun on the table. "Oh, this is the greatest beer on earth. And his promos are the shit!"
"Zuh?"
"Nothing," Trey said with a mischievous smile. "So, Sarah, it's like 2:50 p.m. After we eat here, I'm taking you over to happy hour at this hot new club. No arguments."
"Beer doesn't agree with me."
"Neither do I, but you keep hanging out with me anyway, don't you?"
"I need cooler friends."
The waitress returned with their drinks. She was quiet, trying not to make eye contact with Trey.
"So what's the special this lovely afternoon, aside from you?" Trey asked. The girl blushed again and was quite flustered for a few moments.
"Just ignore him," Sarah told the waitress. "Besides, he has a miniscule penis. Bigger than Studs, but just barely."
"You've seen Studs' cock?" Trey asked.
"I've done more than seen it," Sarah said, cocking an eyebrow.
"You whore. But his is smaller?"
"You're signing my paycheck and we're both faces at the moment, so yes. Much tinier."
"Hey, what's your name?" Trey asked while staring at the waitress's breasts.
"Trey!"
"I'm looking for her name tag. Partially, at least."
"I'm…Sarah."
"Me too!"
"Oh man. That's too confusing, especially for novel RPs. What's your middle name?"
"Michelle."
"Oh, COME ON! You can't both be Sarah Michelles and blonde!"
"Sorry," Sarah said.
"Can't help it, really," Sarah said.
"See?!" Trey yelled for no apparent reason.
"See what?" Sarah asked.
"What are you talking about?" Sarah asked.
"OK. Sarah The Waitress, I have an important question for you. Do you like fish sticks?"
"Yeah," Sarah the Waitress said, smiling shyly.
"Do you like to put fish sticks in your mouth?"
"Yeah," Sarah the Waitress said, still smiling shyly.
"What about male dicks? Do you also like to put those in your mouth?"
"TREY!" Sarah the Slayer yelled, while also kicking the ever loving heck out of his shins under the table.
"Ow!" Trey screamed out. "What the fuck, Sarah?"
"Yeah," Sarah the Waitress said quietly.
"Sarah?" Sarah the Slayer said, disappointed. "Why aren't you slapping him?"
"He's cute and funny. And, y'know. Stuff."
"Wow," said a stunned Sarah the Slayer.
"When do you get off work? I'm taking the other Sarah Michelle over to a strip...I mean, a club for happy hour."
"Um, Trey?" Sarah the Slayer said, tapping her fingers on the table. "Is this 'club' you're taking me to a 'strip club.'"
"Oh, waitress Sarah, if you're interested, I have a black latex catsuit and a dominatrix outfit back at my place."
The waitress laughed. "Wild. So, hey, you guys wanna eat?"
"Do you have anything that smells like fish and tastes like chicken?" Trey asked innocently.
"Umm…"
"It's a joke, honey. I'll have some fish tacos," Trey said.
Sarah the Slayer pouted. "Wasn't this MY Rant, Trey? You've totally taken over. I have a big match against SMP on iMPLOSION 20. Oh, and I'll have the robster pizza. Thanks."
Trey watched Sarah the Waitress walk away while he finished emptying his first bottle of beer. Then his attention turned back to his ex-girlfriend.
"Sarah, if anybody knows how to get you to the pinnacle, it's Trey Vincent. And let's face it. Without me, you wouldn't be a two-time former ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS. Plenty of the boys in the back never wanted a chick to hold the top title. SMP is probably right at the top of the list."
"He's totally sexist," Sarah said, nodding. "And he's totally old."
"Yeah. The odds of him falling asleep mid-match are pretty good. I'll have to make sure to tell production to put on some James Varga promos in the background while your match is going on."
"Devious. Me likee," Sarah said, smiling.
"Hey, can I borrow a quarter?"
"Sure. What for?"
"Umm…" Trey looked around the restaurant nervously, then leaned in close and began whispering to Sarah. "I'll be honest with you. I want SMP's nose trimmer."
"A world of ewwww. Why?"
"There's nothing hotter than a chick who's trimmed as bare as a 6-year-old girl up there."
"Oh. My. God."
"Don't tell anybody, OK?"
"Your secret is safe with me and everyone reading this disturbing…Trey? I'm speechless. I have no speech."
"Look. Let's bottom line this. Sarah, I believe in you, and I've believed in your since I laid eyes on your hot, hot ass back in 2002. You can beat SMP. You can totally fuck up our plans for Gluttons for Punishment 2. I don't care. I'll have a four-way steel cage loser leaves BOB quadruple ladder match between you, Jerri, Kobe and SMP if you win the OWTTM on iMPLOSION. We'll have three contracts and the OWTTM hanging over the ring. It's that simple. I'm the Executive Producer, and I can do whatever I want."
"That was kinda sweet, Trey. Thanks. At iMPLOSION 20, SMP go job. You've already lost your money and your health. Only one thing left to lose. MY TITLE. Retire? Me? I'm not going anywhere."