04-12-2005, 12:16 AM
This story is probably an exaggeration; nevertheless, I use humour as my defence mechanism, and it comes out in my writing.
_______________________________
C-Money
“You know, one time I was elected to be the leader of a secret organization, bent on overthrowing the world government, and replacing it with a government of intellectuals.”
“Uh huh.”
“Yeah, but it mostly turned into an excuse to play Dungeons and Dragons…”
She leaned against the bar, overawed by my manly story of intrigue and bravado. She sipped her drink, looking forward at the crowd, turning her ear toward me, obviously to better hear my sexy exploits.
“We called ourselves the Syndicate. Yeah, I wasn’t actually the leader, it was more of a triumvirate; we had a whole hierarchy worked out, and a motto and everything!”
“Yeah?” She cranes her neck. I think I’m finally getting a rise out of her!
“It was in Latin!”
“Huh.”
She gets up, and walks away (probably to get her coat, so we can go back to my place and make sweet, sweet lovin’). I’m in the zone now.
Oh, hugging another guy, is she? Playing hard to get? Well, I’ll just have to do the same!
“Go ahead! I don’t care! I’m the leader of the Syndicate, dammit! I don’t need you! I am the Dungeon Master!”
She pretends not to hear me; though I know, by her faked laughter, and the way she sticks her tongue down that guy’s throat, that it’s tearing her apart. I just have that effect on women. I turn to the bartender.
“Yeah. She can’t get enough of the C-Money.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve never heard of that drink."
_______________________________
C-Money
“You know, one time I was elected to be the leader of a secret organization, bent on overthrowing the world government, and replacing it with a government of intellectuals.”
“Uh huh.”
“Yeah, but it mostly turned into an excuse to play Dungeons and Dragons…”
She leaned against the bar, overawed by my manly story of intrigue and bravado. She sipped her drink, looking forward at the crowd, turning her ear toward me, obviously to better hear my sexy exploits.
“We called ourselves the Syndicate. Yeah, I wasn’t actually the leader, it was more of a triumvirate; we had a whole hierarchy worked out, and a motto and everything!”
“Yeah?” She cranes her neck. I think I’m finally getting a rise out of her!
“It was in Latin!”
“Huh.”
She gets up, and walks away (probably to get her coat, so we can go back to my place and make sweet, sweet lovin’). I’m in the zone now.
Oh, hugging another guy, is she? Playing hard to get? Well, I’ll just have to do the same!
“Go ahead! I don’t care! I’m the leader of the Syndicate, dammit! I don’t need you! I am the Dungeon Master!”
She pretends not to hear me; though I know, by her faked laughter, and the way she sticks her tongue down that guy’s throat, that it’s tearing her apart. I just have that effect on women. I turn to the bartender.
“Yeah. She can’t get enough of the C-Money.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve never heard of that drink."