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Post by darknight on May 21, 2010 8:08:24 GMT -4
"Budweiser, Coors, Moosehead, Jack Daniels, Black Crow," Bee-Bee said, "Manhattens, Cosmopolitans, Screwdrivers, or Pina Coladas. Take your pick."
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Post by Lord Hugo Prosperio on May 21, 2010 13:47:21 GMT -4
"A screwdriver sounds great" he admitted, despite not liking the collar at all.
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Post by darknight on May 21, 2010 14:58:46 GMT -4
"Ok. You want a standard screwdriver or a Philips?"
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Post by Lord Hugo Prosperio on May 21, 2010 15:31:02 GMT -4
"What's the difference?" he said. Really, all he wanted was something to take his mind off the collar he'd be forced to wear.
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Post by darknight on May 21, 2010 17:35:05 GMT -4
"A Philips screwdriver, as we call it, is one fourth orange wine, one fourth vodka, one fourth soda, and a fourth of rum. Pack's a wallop."
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Post by Lord Hugo Prosperio on May 21, 2010 17:53:17 GMT -4
'Well, then do it up. That sounds great..." he said. It sounded like the perfect combo to relax and enjoy the evening.
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Post by darknight on May 21, 2010 21:41:00 GMT -4
"Sure thing." Bee-Bee nodded and went off. The lights in the club went dim, and the curtains over the stage lifted....
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Post by Lord Hugo Prosperio on May 22, 2010 15:28:46 GMT -4
"Woah." he let out. He had never been in a club like this. He felt like he was in Who Framed Roger Rabbit, except for the collar he was wearing. The atmosphere was actually kind of becoming a turn on to him. He smiled as he waited for the main show to start.
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Post by darknight on May 22, 2010 22:58:53 GMT -4
"All right, folks," a rather silly voice sounded out over an intercomm, "For tonight's first show, we've got LULABELLE THE PRISONER!" From out of stage smoke emerged two rather ordinary looking clowns-the kind you'd see at any circus or kid's birthday hauling a wheeled platform. Standing on the platform, hand and ankle-cuffed to two poles was a pink skinned woman in auguste clown makeup; her fire-engine red hair was done up in a bushy afro. Her bare feet looked to be size 17 with eight inch toes, but Phil decided it had to be fake. Underneath her big red nose a ball gag was place over her mouth. One of the clowns took off the gaff and Lulabelle shreik, in a high squeaky voice, "CHANGE ME BACK! LET ME GO! I'M NOT A CLOWN! I DON'T WANT TO BE A CLOWN!"
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Post by Lord Hugo Prosperio on May 22, 2010 23:47:41 GMT -4
"Wow, interesting entertainment" Phil said to himself as the girl on stage screamed.
"LET ME GO! THIS IS ILLEGAL! SOMEONE WILL COME LOOKING FOR ME! SOMEONE WILL FIND ME!" she shouted.
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Post by darknight on May 23, 2010 6:57:02 GMT -4
"Isn't she a riot folks?" said the voice over the intercomm. One of the clowns who had brought out Lulabelle squeezed her nose several times. HONK HONK HONK! The other wheeled over a cart full of pies, and picking one up, landed it smack on her face.
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Post by Lord Hugo Prosperio on May 23, 2010 6:59:39 GMT -4
"THEY ARE GOING TO THIS TO ALL OF YOU! GET OUT NOW WHILE YOU CAN!" she shouted trying to talk with a mouthful of cream from the pie.
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Post by darknight on May 23, 2010 7:22:35 GMT -4
Bee-Bee came back with Phil's drink. "One Philip's Scewdiver, just like you asked," she said. Now Lulabelle stared straight at Bee-Bee. "Betty!" she shouted. "Betty please! I know, somewhere inside you're still there!" Bee-Bee only giggled. "That gal sure is a number, isn't she?" she asked Philip.
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Post by Lord Hugo Prosperio on May 23, 2010 16:09:47 GMT -4
"Please Betty!" she cried. "We have to get out of here! You aren't a waitress at this club, you are a doctor! So am I! We are being held here against our will, please snap out of it"
"She really gets into the role!" Phil said as he sipped his beverage, and felt it tingle all the way down. "Woah, that does have a kick"
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Post by darknight on May 23, 2010 20:15:55 GMT -4
"It sure does," Bee-Bee agreed, then looked at two clowns at the table next to were Phil sat. When she'd left to get his drink they'd both been human; now they were fully clowns in body and mind, waiting to be shown the door to their new home in Clowntopia. She hadn't put anything like that into Phil's drink; he seemed too interesting to be changed-yet."Say," she said coyly, "later tonight, how would you like a 'personal session' with Lulabelle?"
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