Falcon: Yeah, keep talking, mother fucker... Griffon: I was planning on it, pixie stix... *The scene is grim, and not just because of how small the apartment Tigers welfare allows him to rent it. Falcon and Griffon are sitting opposite of each other on the newly fixed table, which will probably be broken in a matter of seconds, as both of them have rather ugly looks on their faces. Sitting on the couch, a little to the left, is Tiger, Pac, and Royce, all of whom look tired and bored.* Griffon: What the fuck do you mean you can beat me in arm wrestling? Who taught you how to lift weights? Huh? Who taught you about protein shakes, huh!? Falcon: Yeah, yeah, but who taught you about popping steroids until your testicles are shriveled like a pair of lumps of buckwheat, huh!? Griffon: .....yeah, well, its more fun to date guys! Falcon: *Without missing a beat* Bullshit it is! What the fuck do you about to a guy? ‘Uh, hey, remember that thing we did because WE WERE JUST HANGING OUT AS FRIENDS!? Yeah, that was cool...’ Griffon: So you prefer questioning the entire date whethet your going to get some or not? Falcon: So *you* prefer having to limp around for the next few days after the getting some is gotten!? *That last comment was too much for Tiger, who promptly leaps up from the table* Tiger: God *damn* it! There is a really easy way to settle this, and it doesnt involve putting images of Griffon being rectally pounded into our subconsious minds! Just fucking arm wrestle! Griffon: ... Falcon: ... Griffon: That is far too logical. And it doesnt solve the problem of the dating. Tiger: Well what the hell would? I dont know any girls who dont hate you, and theres no way on sweet Mary Mother of Jesus’s green earth that Falcon would date a guy! Griffon: *Gets a sudden gleam in his eye* Unless... Falcon: *Blinks* No. No unless. Nada. Zero. Fucking Zilch. The amount of inches long your genitalia is. None. NOT HAPPENING. Griffon: But youre so sure you can beat me arm wrestling, right? Falcon: ...sure... Griffon: So well put two bets down. If you beat me arm wrestling, youll win both of them. If I beat you, I only win the one, and you need to go on one date with me, just to see how it is. *Royce and Pac suddenly twitch over on the couch, and look over, unsure if they heard correctly* Falcon: You have got to be kidding me... Griffon: *Grins proudly* Nope. Falcon: ...would I pay or would you? Griffon: You. Pac: *To Royce* Holy shit, hes actually considering it... Falcon: Nope. Griffon: *Sighs* Ill pay. Falcon: And- Griffon: Jesus Christ, “and”!? You cant sit through some free fuckign bread sticks with me? Falcon: ...I get to pick another couple to tag along, for personal reasons Griffon: ...and youre not going to lure us into a wild orgy? Falcon: ...well, I can promise that theres no way I wont not try it. Griffon: *Blinks* Uh.. ok, but you have to name them now. Falcon: *Pauses for a moment, then points at the couch* Them. Royce: Me? Pac: Us? Griffon: Are you aware that they arent even a couple? Falcon: Aware? Yes. Care? No. Pacs homophobic to make sure I dont accidentally slip into the pink zone, and if that doesnt work and I start to stray from the path, Ill just stare at Royces tits for a few moments to return to my senses. Deal? Griffon: ...deal. Tiger: With all of that plot setting, page filler, and foreshadowing, does anyone even close to believe that Falcon has a chance? Group: .... Falcon: Man, even I dont now. *Holds up arm* But theres only one way to test. Yo. Griffon: *Locks hands with Falcon, and glares at him. The two begin to push with all of their strength, and the tension is such that veins begin to sprout on their faces and sweat begins to bead along their cheeks. Finally, with a primal growl and an overwhelimg slam, Griffon presses Falcons hand down to the table Falcon: *Closes his eyes in horror* UGH.... Royce: Haha! Wait... Pac: *Eyes suddenly god wide* Ive got a date! Royce: .....ugh... *Cutscene- THE DAY- Tiger is dropped Falcon off with his orange, black stripes motorcycle (Im sorry Ramble Readers, but I had to give myself a kick ass set of wheels) at a small restaurant called the Deer Lodge. Despite its ‘Burnt Down Cabin Uncle Thomas Clem’ level of hick name, it is actually a pretty nice place, famous for great steak and a lengthy reserve list. Tiger doesnt even want to know which of the two actually called out a favor for a date with the other one* Falcon: Ah jesus.... *hops off the back of the cycle. This is traditionally where the rider would take off his helmet, but Falcon being a borderline psychotic whos really not looking forward to the night ahead oh him, neglected to wear his* Tiger: *Snickers* Well... have fun. And I want details tommorow, cause this would be some funny shit... and you know if you dont tell me, Royce and Lucia will. Falcon: *Mutters* Fucking Royce and Lucia... *eyes suddenly go wide* Wait a minute! Tiger: *Blinks* Neh? Falcon: How would you like to see this stuff for yourself? Tiger: ...hm. Im getting some serious train wreck syndrom here. It will be hideous. It will be bloody. But I cannot resist. Why, what do you want me to do, take Lucia’s place? Falcon: God no. Then Griffon would know whats up. I want you there in secret. Tiger: ...so you want me hiding under the silver dinner dish like in some bad movie? Falcon: Actually... *Cutscene- Tiger has been decked out in a small blue shirt, long black pants, a blue ‘Deer Lodge’ hat and a pair of sunglasses. Despite the glasses, its fairly obvious to tell that its him and not a waiter, so Falcon is crouched in front of him with a black felt tip pen, sketching the faintest trail of a mustache on his upper lip* Tiger: *Glances in a nearby mirror and groans* Ugh... dude, youre making me look like some sort of skeevy child molestor! Falcon: Well, then its perfect for a Waiter. Besides, I need you to have access to the food! Tiger: And why is that? You want me to spit in Griffon’s burger or something? Falcon: God no. I want you to put this in it. *Falcon holds up a small blue pill* Tiger: ...please tell me that isnt a roofy... Falcon: Ew. Nope, a little more mild. Just a normal sleeping pill, just enough to make him drowsy. About twenty minutes after he starts eating Im going to ask him for another Arm Wrestling bet, and if I win, I get to go home early. I figure if hes tired I have a slightly better chance of winning. Tiger: ...indeed. You know, there are laws against this? Falcon: Yeah, theres laws against beating some rich kids Porsche to death with a baseball bat too, but did that stop me last time? Tiger: *Sighs* Ill do it, but only because I want to see Griffon trying to mack you. Falcon: Yeah, fuckin, yeah.... *Cutscene- The four arrive simultaneously at dinner* Pac: Hey, Royce... Royce: Mhm. *Instantly looks around* Where the hell is the maitre de? Falcon: Not that kind of restaurant. You want good food, you get bad service. We seat ourselves. Griffon: Well, if we have to... *holds out arm for Falcon to take* Falcon: *Stares at it. Then at Griffon. Then back at the arm.* Griffon: Uh, right... *drops arm* Look, corner booth, lets grab that. *The four make their way to a dark corner booth and slide into it, Falcons attempt to sit acrost from Griffon rather than with thwarted by Pac hastily shoving himself next to Royce, who gives him a tight lipped smile. The waiter is not long in arriving, wearing a wrinkled apron and for some reason or another, a very low hat. His mustache gives him the odd look of a child molestor* Tiger: (Incognito) Why hello der... may I take your drinkz? Griffon: No, thats known as stealing. But you can write down on your lil slip of paper there the ones wed want and will later pay for. *Pac, Falcon, and Royce all give Griffon pained looks* Griffon: Oh *what*!? That was witty! Falcon: ...I cant believe Im going to have to suffer through this whole night just for losing in arm wrestling. Ill have a scotch. Tiger: Mey I see your ID, sir? Falcon: .......Ill have a scotch. Tiger: Oh erm... I mean, oui sir, oui. Scotch it is. And ze lady? Royce: Shirley Temple. Virgin. Pac: *Snorts* Virgin? Royce: Oh shut up and order your god damn drink Pac: 7 Up. Royce: 7 Up? Pac: 7 Up. Royce: Oh jesus... Pac: What the hell is wrong with 7 Up!?!? Griffon: *Interrupts to prevent fighting this early in the night* Ill have a water! Tiger: Just water? You aire verra cheep, ne? Griffon: ...actually, I dont even know If Im paying for this. Whos paying for this? *Pac and Royce instantly look away, as if distracted by something. Falcon sighs* Falcon: Im paying for this. It seems right, considering Im the only real guy here... *Pacs attention is quickly back to the table. Him and Griffon shoot Falcon ugly looks, but dont argue* Falcon: Well, maybe Lucias a guy, but he doesnt have money. Royce: *Snorts* Pac: Hey! I thought we got over this poor thing already! You know... how Im NOT!? Tiger: *Blinks* I will get you drinks.... *Tiger hastily scurries off. Royce shoots Pac a mean look* Royce: You know, the waiters kinda cute... Pac: You arent funny. Royce: Hehe... Falcon: *Scoops a menu off the table and begins to thumb through it* Hm... Griffon: Hm? Falcon: Hm. Griffon: Hm what? Falcon: Hm I think Ill get some mushroom soup. Griffon: Please tell me you arent planning to tell them how to make it better Falcon: I was considering it... why? Griffon: *Sighs* Im getting clams. You guys? *Royce and Pac simultaneously look up from their menus* Them: Pizza! *They look at each other* Pac: Pizza...? Royce: Pizza. Pac: You order pizza? Royce: But... but *I* order pizza... Griffon: *Looking disgusted* Youre ordering PIZZA!? Were at one of the best freaking restaurants in the entire city and you decide to order Pizza!? Pac: Yo. Royce: *Nods* Falcon: Wow... they have something in common after all. Absolutely no taste. Tiger: *Returns, barely managing to balance the drinks on his tray, which is odd considering hes using both hands as opposed to the customary one. With a clang, he smacks the whole thing down on the table, and begins to pass out drinks* Royce: *Sips her Shirley Temple, and coughs* Woah.... *looks bleary eyed at Tiger* You sure this is virgin, waiter? Tiger: *Eyes suddenly go wide with rememberence, but he quickly covers his surprise* Uh... yes. Yes madam I am. Falcon: *Eyes the drinks Tiger has given him and Griffon. Both are unusually fizzy, which is slightly obvious because Griffon simply ordered water. However, distracted by noticing something familiar about the waiter, Griffon takes a few unheeding gulps. Falcon follows suit* So I guess were all ready to order? *The group nods. Tiger whips out a tablet* Tiger: But of course... Falcon: Mushroom soup, and for gods sake add some onions, simmer the rice first, and dabble some mince sauce! Tiger: ...*writes down plain mushroom soup* Yes, sir, Ive got all that. Royce: Pizza. Pac: Pizza. Tiger: ....*writes down two pizzas* Griffon: Ill have some steamed clams, but skip the butter sauce. Tiger: ..yes sir. Is that all? *They look at each other quickly, then nod* Tiger: All right... Ill be back soon. *Tiger is not really true to his word, as it is actually quite a while until he returns his with the food, while in the mean time Griffon and Falcon stare awkwardly at each other, both looking rather drowsy, and Pac and Royce strike up a conversation about... pizza* Royce: And *mushrooms*!!! Pac: Yeah. Mushrooms. Royce: ...I dont really like mushrooms Pac: Nah. Me either. Or sausage. Royce: Ah, sausage sucks. Pac: ... Royce: ... Pac: You know, this is the most fulfilling conversation Ive had with another human being in months? Royce: Ditto. *Tiger returns with the food. Falcons soup is prepared as usual, Griffons clams have butter sauce, and hes brought two entire pizzas for Royce and Pac, as opposed to a single slice each* Royce: Erm... this is good. Thanks. Falcon: *Tastes his soup, and shoots Tiger a dirty look* Yep. Thanks. Griffon: *Pushes away his butter sauce* ...yeah... Tiger: Sure thing. *Hastily scurries into the bar. The second he gets there, he tosses off his apron, his hat, and wipes the sketched on mustache off his lips* Ugh. Ugh ugh ugh. *He quickly takes a seat at the counter* Bartender: *Looks surprised* Whats wrong with you, bub? Tiger: I was kind, courteous, and inoffensive for more than fifteen minutes. I feel like Im going to vomit. I would like any drink with enough alcohol content to light on fire, please. Bartender: ....s-sure... *begins to fill a shot glass* *Back at the table* *Royce and Pac are chomping happily away at the pizza, and are sharing a warm look. Griffon is slowly picking at his clams, and Falcon is even slower ladeling his soup, and both of them seem relatively dazed. The food is good, but Griffon and Falcon seem too out of it to notice, and Pac and Royce seem too preoccupied with each other to care* Falcon: Hehe... look at that. *With some difficulty, he manages to point at a whole cascade of waiters, who are wheeling a birthday cake down one of the aisles of the restaurant* Falcon: I always feel bad for the poor schmucks whos wives get them sung to, when all they wanted was a night of peace and quiet Griffon: *Barks out a laugh* Yeah. Thats absolutely horrible. *The Waiters promptly make their way up to the groups table, and Falcons eyes widen in horror as Griffon suddenly busts out laughing. The lead waiter plops a cake down in front of Falcon, and they all take a deep breath* Falcon: .......oh no..... Waiters: Happy happy happy birthday to YOU! HAPPY HAPPY happy BIRTHDAY TO yoU! HAPPY! BIRTHDAY! TO! YOOOOOU! *They promptly hand Falcon a balloon, cut his cake, and flee back to their actual jobs. Falcon is left, looking stunned, covered in a handful of confetti one of the waitresses had hurled. Slowly, he looks over to Griffon, who was laughing his ass off* Falcon: ...you mean to tell me this entire thing was a set up just to do that? Griffon: YES! *Falls laughing uncontrollably to the floor. Long after the laughter has died, which is quite some time, he still hasnt rised. Suddenly, sounds of snores come up* Falcon: What the... hell...? *Plops his head down on the table, and passes out* Royce: *Stares at them in shock* Pac: Uh... Royce: Hm. *Turns back to Pac* Fanna wuck? Pac: Huh? Royce: Whoopsie... wanna fuck? Pac: ...oh god yes. Royce: Good. Bring the pizza. *Hiccups* *Royce hops up from the table and darts off, wiggling her backside. Pac hastily scoops up the pizza remains and chases after her* *In the bar* Tiger: *Laughing drunkenly* And I... and I... Bartender: Slipped sleeping pills in both the guys drinks. Weve been over this. What about the broad. *Tiger has drawn quite a crowd, as hes been ranting loudly for a bit now.* Tiger: Right... she wanted a virgin... Shirley Temple... but I accidentally loaded her drink with more alcohol than a 5th of skotch! *The group of men laugh heartily, though most are imagining the ripe girl drunk on a date. Perverts. The author promises he gets no enjoyment out of such a thought. Really. Scouts Honor. Hehe, honor... ‘on her.’. All right, im a fucking child, I admit it* *Cut scene- the next morning* Falcon: Huh... ugh... *rolls over, tasting the top of his mouth. His tongue is incredibly dry and his eyes seem almost fused shut. With much difficult, he opens them, seeing lying across from him in the bed- Griffon: *Eyes suddenly go wide. They meet with Falcons, and the two scream* Tiger: *Sitting outside the door, with a hangover, but a smile* Hehe... this just keeps getting funnier.