CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
"Have you ever heard the expression 'you should never meet your heroes'?" Lisa asked her boyfriend, Dave.
"No," lied Dave, looking anxiously down the tunnel. "What's taking him so long?"
"Probably doing steroids," said Lisa, sighing. It was bad enough that Dave had dragged her along to the wrestling. She could at least pretend to enjoy that and in truth the show had entertained her fairly well, though it had gone on far too long. But waiting outside the arena for Brad "The Shooter" McNair's autograph? It was getting beyond a joke. Was this Dave's idea of a joke?
"McNair doesn't do steroids," said Dave, annoyed. "Your boyfriend Randy Pheasant probably does though."
"He didn't look that big," said Lisa, almsot defensively. It was true that she'd found Randy Pheasant rather handsome and had particularly enjoyed the moment when he'd swivelled his hips, seemingly in her direction, during his match.
"You should have seen what he looked like before!" said Dave, speaking as an expert on the subject. "Skinny little runt. Can't work either."
"Well he won his match," said Lisa, wondering what on Earth Dave was going on about. "Unlike your guy."
"Winning and losing his nothing to do with talent!" snapped Dave.
"I know it's all fake Dave, you don't have to explain it to me again," said Lisa, who had been lectured on how wrestling works several times in the past. "But you'd think they'd have the most talented guy win."
Dave just rolled his eyes.
"What?" said Lisa, getting angry now.
"Obviously there's more to it than just being the best worker," said Dave. "Pheasant, for example, is popular with the girls for some reason. That's why he wins."
"Well that's part of his job, then," said Lisa, triumphantly. "So that makes him a good WORKER then."
"You don't know what you're talking about!" said Dave. "Just because girls are stupid enough to...hey, here he comes!" And he ran away from Lisa, right up to the front of the crowd of fans waiting for autographs. Lisa followed him. Brad was there, looking grim. Lisa also noticed Randy Pheasant making his way down the tunnel, girls flocking around him. She started to slowly move towards him as Dave was shouting at Brad. "BRAD, I'M YOUR BIGGEST FAN! I LOVE YOUR MATCH WITH KURT TANGLE! FIVE STARS, EASILY! SHOULD HAVE WON MATCH OF THE YEAR IN THE NEWSLETTERS!"
Lisa drifted towards Pheasant and was shocked when he looked right at her. He told the other girls to stay where they were and moved towards Lisa. She felt embarrassment, especially when she noticed the jealous looks the other girls were throwing at her.
"Hey," said Pheasant, casually. "I noticed you in the crowd tonight."
"Really?" said Lisa, sounding more excited than she had intented to.
"I always notice the prettiest girl in the crowd," said Pheasant.
"Oh please," said Lisa, trying to sound uninterested. "I bet you said that to all those girls too."
"They're just kids," said Pheasant, dismissively. It was true that most of them looked like they were in their early teens, but Lisa herself was only 18 and Pheasant must have been in his mid thirties. "Why do you think I popped my hips at you?"
Lisa smiled the way Dave could never make her smile. "I'm, umm, here with my boyfriend," she said, out of some loyalty to Dave. She looked at him and Pheasant followed her gaze. Dave was chasing after Brad who was heading to his car.
"HEY, BRAD, YOU NEVER MADE IT OUT TO ME...IF YOU COULD JUST...YEAH, I KNOW YOU'RE IN A HURRY...PLEASE, I'M YOUR BIGGEST FAN, I HAVE YOUR DVD!"
"Yeah, I can see why you're with him," said Pheasant without a hint of sarcasm. Lisa laughed. Pheasant handed her a card. "My hotel and room number. I'm going out with the boys tonight, but I'll be there all day tomorrow...our next show's been cancelled and I've got nothing to do with myself..."
"I'm sure you'll think of something," said Lisa, feeling a mixture of emotions. "Bye," she said abruptly, but couldn't help but smile at him again as he flashed those impossibily white teeth at her and gyrated his hips just a little. She had to get away and fast. She walked over to Dave.
"Ah, there you are," he said. "I finally got Brad to write the right thing! Took some convincing but I think he realised I'm a real fan in the end."
"That's great," said Lisa, holding the card Pheasant had given her in her pocket.
"You weren't talking to that roidhead Pheasant, were you?" asked Dave.
"Oh, he said something crude and I told him my boyfriend says he can't work," lied Lisa in such a convincing manner that she surprised herself.
"Cool! We'll make a fan out of you yet!" said Dave, starting to walk away. Lisa followed.
"Yeah," she said, squeezing the card inside her pocket. "Hey, did I tell you I have to work tomorrow? All day, unfortunately..."
"No," lied Dave, looking anxiously down the tunnel. "What's taking him so long?"
"Probably doing steroids," said Lisa, sighing. It was bad enough that Dave had dragged her along to the wrestling. She could at least pretend to enjoy that and in truth the show had entertained her fairly well, though it had gone on far too long. But waiting outside the arena for Brad "The Shooter" McNair's autograph? It was getting beyond a joke. Was this Dave's idea of a joke?
"McNair doesn't do steroids," said Dave, annoyed. "Your boyfriend Randy Pheasant probably does though."
"He didn't look that big," said Lisa, almsot defensively. It was true that she'd found Randy Pheasant rather handsome and had particularly enjoyed the moment when he'd swivelled his hips, seemingly in her direction, during his match.
"You should have seen what he looked like before!" said Dave, speaking as an expert on the subject. "Skinny little runt. Can't work either."
"Well he won his match," said Lisa, wondering what on Earth Dave was going on about. "Unlike your guy."
"Winning and losing his nothing to do with talent!" snapped Dave.
"I know it's all fake Dave, you don't have to explain it to me again," said Lisa, who had been lectured on how wrestling works several times in the past. "But you'd think they'd have the most talented guy win."
Dave just rolled his eyes.
"What?" said Lisa, getting angry now.
"Obviously there's more to it than just being the best worker," said Dave. "Pheasant, for example, is popular with the girls for some reason. That's why he wins."
"Well that's part of his job, then," said Lisa, triumphantly. "So that makes him a good WORKER then."
"You don't know what you're talking about!" said Dave. "Just because girls are stupid enough to...hey, here he comes!" And he ran away from Lisa, right up to the front of the crowd of fans waiting for autographs. Lisa followed him. Brad was there, looking grim. Lisa also noticed Randy Pheasant making his way down the tunnel, girls flocking around him. She started to slowly move towards him as Dave was shouting at Brad. "BRAD, I'M YOUR BIGGEST FAN! I LOVE YOUR MATCH WITH KURT TANGLE! FIVE STARS, EASILY! SHOULD HAVE WON MATCH OF THE YEAR IN THE NEWSLETTERS!"
Lisa drifted towards Pheasant and was shocked when he looked right at her. He told the other girls to stay where they were and moved towards Lisa. She felt embarrassment, especially when she noticed the jealous looks the other girls were throwing at her.
"Hey," said Pheasant, casually. "I noticed you in the crowd tonight."
"Really?" said Lisa, sounding more excited than she had intented to.
"I always notice the prettiest girl in the crowd," said Pheasant.
"Oh please," said Lisa, trying to sound uninterested. "I bet you said that to all those girls too."
"They're just kids," said Pheasant, dismissively. It was true that most of them looked like they were in their early teens, but Lisa herself was only 18 and Pheasant must have been in his mid thirties. "Why do you think I popped my hips at you?"
Lisa smiled the way Dave could never make her smile. "I'm, umm, here with my boyfriend," she said, out of some loyalty to Dave. She looked at him and Pheasant followed her gaze. Dave was chasing after Brad who was heading to his car.
"HEY, BRAD, YOU NEVER MADE IT OUT TO ME...IF YOU COULD JUST...YEAH, I KNOW YOU'RE IN A HURRY...PLEASE, I'M YOUR BIGGEST FAN, I HAVE YOUR DVD!"
"Yeah, I can see why you're with him," said Pheasant without a hint of sarcasm. Lisa laughed. Pheasant handed her a card. "My hotel and room number. I'm going out with the boys tonight, but I'll be there all day tomorrow...our next show's been cancelled and I've got nothing to do with myself..."
"I'm sure you'll think of something," said Lisa, feeling a mixture of emotions. "Bye," she said abruptly, but couldn't help but smile at him again as he flashed those impossibily white teeth at her and gyrated his hips just a little. She had to get away and fast. She walked over to Dave.
"Ah, there you are," he said. "I finally got Brad to write the right thing! Took some convincing but I think he realised I'm a real fan in the end."
"That's great," said Lisa, holding the card Pheasant had given her in her pocket.
"You weren't talking to that roidhead Pheasant, were you?" asked Dave.
"Oh, he said something crude and I told him my boyfriend says he can't work," lied Lisa in such a convincing manner that she surprised herself.
"Cool! We'll make a fan out of you yet!" said Dave, starting to walk away. Lisa followed.
"Yeah," she said, squeezing the card inside her pocket. "Hey, did I tell you I have to work tomorrow? All day, unfortunately..."