Post by brao on Dec 27, 2015 2:38:53 GMT -5
A woman spied an attractive man seated a few tables away from her. After a few moments, she realized she was gazing at him. The way his hair danced on his brow, his chiseled jaw and high cheeks. The tone of his skin. She found him quite beautiful and almost hypnotic. In fact his beauty was such a distraction to her that she had barely acknowledged at all that the man was shouting at and berating a waiter.
“So you’re telling me,” began Brao Kitt, “that a dedicated vegetarian athlete would stumble into this restaurant and blindly order a steak dinner, would he?”
“Sir, I do not know what to tell you in regards to that, but I will say that this is the precise meal that you ordered.”
Brao Kitt chuckled. “Perhaps then, waiter, I should simply pop this shirt off and reveal to you the difference between a vegetarian athlete and a ‘roided up meat head.”
Brao began to unbutton his blazer. The waiter darted his hand onto the table, gripping the plate.
“I will take this back to the kitchen, sir, you really don’t have to take your clothes off!”
Brao took an unflattering gulp of red wine and glared forward as his plate was removed from his presence.
“Miss,” said the waiter to the horrified young woman sitting across from Brao, “is everything alright with your steak?”
She nodded and the waiter reached onto the table to remove the many steak sauces he believed Brao had ordered.
“Ignorance is not always bliss,” Brao muttered into the ear of the reaching waiter, “sometimes it’s being a deaf waiter.”
The waiter frowned; his brain was comparing Brao’s last statement against everything it had ever known to try and make sense of it.
A feminine hand stretched over and placed itself over Brao’s. “Don’t worry about it, Brao, he is getting your new meal.”
Brao turned his head slowly, locking eye contact with his date. “I saw a tree once, Lisa,” he said, “full of goats. On every branch there was at least one goat…”
Her compassionate warm face began to crack with creased confusion.
“Calling out. Loudly. I don’t know if you’ve heard goats doing their thing but they scream, Lisa. And yeah I can accept that animals can climb and hang from trees, but what I won’t accept is some clown trying to tell me that steak is a fruit.”
The waiter shuffled away in silence to look for someone else to take Brao’s new order.
Brao took a deep refreshing breath and rolled his head on his loose shoulders. He let out a long, deep, loud, wobbly sigh that disturbed the other near by diners. He stretched his hands out flat on the table and stared at Lisa with a self-satisfied glint in his eyes. She stared back, cautiously.
“This is going well,” he sighed. “All things considered…”
“Uhm…yeah…” she lied.
“Well,” he said, a big smirk emerging, “it’s about to get a lot better.”
Brao maintained eye contact with his already tortured date. Her eyes seemed to lightly plead as he gently tapped his wine glass with a remaining steak knife.
Ting, ting, ting, ting, ting…
The murmuring amalgam of a restaurant full of conversation simmered. All attention was now on Brao Kitt, as he slowly stood, smiling.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if I could please direct your attention to my table. It’s the one with the beautiful young girl seated at it,” said Brao.
The nearby diners felt that the obnoxious volume of Brao’s normal speaking voice already made everything he said seem like a public announcement. Though out of forced social obligation they diverted their attention from their meals to Brao and the young woman at his table. Those further away across the restaurant floor who had not already been subjected to Brao’s personality(other than observing his attire of a blazer and leather pants)were delighted by the interruption. Young couples looked to them with smiles on their faces. The women thinking that she is a lucky girl to be made the center of attention by such a dashing looking young man; the men looking at Brao’s date and thinking that he was fortunate to be sharing his time with such an attractive woman. An old couple smiled at each other, remembering when they too were young and falling in love.
Brao sighed, still smiling. He beat his hand gently on his heart and looked out across the sea of faces. He did not speak, though. For quite a long time. He just smiled.
A diner identified the pause as Brao’s nervousness and urged him on with a supportive nod, and mouthed the words: “Go on man! Say it! Ask her!”
Brao’s date Lisa was stunned. She was attempting to make sense of what was happening, though, considering that she had known Brao Kitt for only three days it seemed impossible that he would be proposing. Yet, there she was, experiencing what did indeed appear to be the beginning of a marriage proposal. Her heart began to pound. She was not the type to make public displays. She was quite a nervous and shy person. She was attracted to Brao Kitt for this reason; his confidence. She felt safe and free around men like that. Though now, paired with the fact that she definitely remembered him ordering that steak, it was clear to her that she had made a monumental mistake. She realized that Brao was more than confident. He was psychotic.
Brao Kitt nodded slowly at the supportive diner. He looked across the crowd. His doughy eyes settling on the people like a sunset. He then turned slowly and dramatically to Lisa. She saw his lips part and mouth open ready to push out the hideous words. It seemed to happen in slow motion. She could almost see the thin strands of saliva pulling apart with his lips and the air sucking into his lungs as he drew breath to speak.
“The battle is on…” said Brao.
The fizz of fear in Lisa’s stomach bubbled and her muscles clenched in reaction to what she thought she was supposed to hear, but what she actually did hear was quite confusing and unspecific. “What?”
“I was entered into the battle royal,” said Kitt.
Confused murmurs surrounded their table.
“That’s right ladies and gentlemen!” announced Brao. “This Sunday at WCF One, I, Brao Kitt, after all the campaigning, after all the work, after all the…lets face it, school infiltrations, I have achieved my goal of entry into the battle royal match!”
Stunned looks spread across the tables.
“Wait…” said one irritated man, “are you the idiot in the news who broke into that preschool and started shouting about a wrestling match?”
“I didn’t break into a school,” said Brao, “I infiltrated the school by lying about my connection to a child who attended it. Then I amassed an army of support from the youth of this town. The future. They believe in me. Who among us can say they have the future on their side?”
“Listen fool,” said the man. “I don’t want to hear your voice interrupting my dinner again this evening. So shut up and sit down.”
“Is that right, dickhead?” began Brao, now leaning over the next table. “You think that’s how it’s going to go do you? How about this, are you listening? Yeah? How about I pop this shirt off and show you what a champion looks like under a fine suit?”
Lisa had heard(and gone through) enough. She threw a napkin down on the table, gulped the last mouthful of wine she had left and began to walk away. Brao prized his eyes away from the annoyed man who was trying to eat his dinner to see her leave.
“Great. You’ve scared off my date,” said Brao to the man, “with your aggressive threats and unfavorable public scene.”
“Actually, I think she had enough of your mouth!” said the man.
“Really? My mouth is beautiful, however yours appears to be dripping with the blood of a butchered animal so perhaps she was too horrified to continue sitting nearby to a Neanderthal savage,” said Brao.
Brao threw himself down on his seat and pulled Lisa’s plate toward him. “Now I’ve got to eat her meal otherwise it’s wasted. And I’m a vegetarian, I don’t eat steak, or any meat, so I hope you are happy about this.”
Many flinched as Brao slammed his phone down onto his table and jabbed his finger into the touch screen a few times. Then his entrance music(Sure Looks Good To Me by Alicia Keys) began to blare out of it. Brao slowly carved the steak and delicately placed a chunk of the meat into his waiting, yet disgusted, mouth.
Restaurant staff descended, rallying together to form a big enough resistance to eject the maniacal wrestler from the establishment. Brao, realizing that his time was over, quickly swallowed the food he claimed he did not want to eat(or waste) and began shouting about the battle royal. Telling everyone that he would win and to tune in to see him rip all his opponents heads off.
“Don’t miss the massacre! This Sunday! WCF One!” he screamed as he was shoved through the door onto the street.
“So you’re telling me,” began Brao Kitt, “that a dedicated vegetarian athlete would stumble into this restaurant and blindly order a steak dinner, would he?”
“Sir, I do not know what to tell you in regards to that, but I will say that this is the precise meal that you ordered.”
Brao Kitt chuckled. “Perhaps then, waiter, I should simply pop this shirt off and reveal to you the difference between a vegetarian athlete and a ‘roided up meat head.”
Brao began to unbutton his blazer. The waiter darted his hand onto the table, gripping the plate.
“I will take this back to the kitchen, sir, you really don’t have to take your clothes off!”
Brao took an unflattering gulp of red wine and glared forward as his plate was removed from his presence.
“Miss,” said the waiter to the horrified young woman sitting across from Brao, “is everything alright with your steak?”
She nodded and the waiter reached onto the table to remove the many steak sauces he believed Brao had ordered.
“Ignorance is not always bliss,” Brao muttered into the ear of the reaching waiter, “sometimes it’s being a deaf waiter.”
The waiter frowned; his brain was comparing Brao’s last statement against everything it had ever known to try and make sense of it.
A feminine hand stretched over and placed itself over Brao’s. “Don’t worry about it, Brao, he is getting your new meal.”
Brao turned his head slowly, locking eye contact with his date. “I saw a tree once, Lisa,” he said, “full of goats. On every branch there was at least one goat…”
Her compassionate warm face began to crack with creased confusion.
“Calling out. Loudly. I don’t know if you’ve heard goats doing their thing but they scream, Lisa. And yeah I can accept that animals can climb and hang from trees, but what I won’t accept is some clown trying to tell me that steak is a fruit.”
The waiter shuffled away in silence to look for someone else to take Brao’s new order.
Brao took a deep refreshing breath and rolled his head on his loose shoulders. He let out a long, deep, loud, wobbly sigh that disturbed the other near by diners. He stretched his hands out flat on the table and stared at Lisa with a self-satisfied glint in his eyes. She stared back, cautiously.
“This is going well,” he sighed. “All things considered…”
“Uhm…yeah…” she lied.
“Well,” he said, a big smirk emerging, “it’s about to get a lot better.”
Brao maintained eye contact with his already tortured date. Her eyes seemed to lightly plead as he gently tapped his wine glass with a remaining steak knife.
Ting, ting, ting, ting, ting…
The murmuring amalgam of a restaurant full of conversation simmered. All attention was now on Brao Kitt, as he slowly stood, smiling.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if I could please direct your attention to my table. It’s the one with the beautiful young girl seated at it,” said Brao.
The nearby diners felt that the obnoxious volume of Brao’s normal speaking voice already made everything he said seem like a public announcement. Though out of forced social obligation they diverted their attention from their meals to Brao and the young woman at his table. Those further away across the restaurant floor who had not already been subjected to Brao’s personality(other than observing his attire of a blazer and leather pants)were delighted by the interruption. Young couples looked to them with smiles on their faces. The women thinking that she is a lucky girl to be made the center of attention by such a dashing looking young man; the men looking at Brao’s date and thinking that he was fortunate to be sharing his time with such an attractive woman. An old couple smiled at each other, remembering when they too were young and falling in love.
Brao sighed, still smiling. He beat his hand gently on his heart and looked out across the sea of faces. He did not speak, though. For quite a long time. He just smiled.
A diner identified the pause as Brao’s nervousness and urged him on with a supportive nod, and mouthed the words: “Go on man! Say it! Ask her!”
Brao’s date Lisa was stunned. She was attempting to make sense of what was happening, though, considering that she had known Brao Kitt for only three days it seemed impossible that he would be proposing. Yet, there she was, experiencing what did indeed appear to be the beginning of a marriage proposal. Her heart began to pound. She was not the type to make public displays. She was quite a nervous and shy person. She was attracted to Brao Kitt for this reason; his confidence. She felt safe and free around men like that. Though now, paired with the fact that she definitely remembered him ordering that steak, it was clear to her that she had made a monumental mistake. She realized that Brao was more than confident. He was psychotic.
Brao Kitt nodded slowly at the supportive diner. He looked across the crowd. His doughy eyes settling on the people like a sunset. He then turned slowly and dramatically to Lisa. She saw his lips part and mouth open ready to push out the hideous words. It seemed to happen in slow motion. She could almost see the thin strands of saliva pulling apart with his lips and the air sucking into his lungs as he drew breath to speak.
“The battle is on…” said Brao.
The fizz of fear in Lisa’s stomach bubbled and her muscles clenched in reaction to what she thought she was supposed to hear, but what she actually did hear was quite confusing and unspecific. “What?”
“I was entered into the battle royal,” said Kitt.
Confused murmurs surrounded their table.
“That’s right ladies and gentlemen!” announced Brao. “This Sunday at WCF One, I, Brao Kitt, after all the campaigning, after all the work, after all the…lets face it, school infiltrations, I have achieved my goal of entry into the battle royal match!”
Stunned looks spread across the tables.
“Wait…” said one irritated man, “are you the idiot in the news who broke into that preschool and started shouting about a wrestling match?”
“I didn’t break into a school,” said Brao, “I infiltrated the school by lying about my connection to a child who attended it. Then I amassed an army of support from the youth of this town. The future. They believe in me. Who among us can say they have the future on their side?”
“Listen fool,” said the man. “I don’t want to hear your voice interrupting my dinner again this evening. So shut up and sit down.”
“Is that right, dickhead?” began Brao, now leaning over the next table. “You think that’s how it’s going to go do you? How about this, are you listening? Yeah? How about I pop this shirt off and show you what a champion looks like under a fine suit?”
Lisa had heard(and gone through) enough. She threw a napkin down on the table, gulped the last mouthful of wine she had left and began to walk away. Brao prized his eyes away from the annoyed man who was trying to eat his dinner to see her leave.
“Great. You’ve scared off my date,” said Brao to the man, “with your aggressive threats and unfavorable public scene.”
“Actually, I think she had enough of your mouth!” said the man.
“Really? My mouth is beautiful, however yours appears to be dripping with the blood of a butchered animal so perhaps she was too horrified to continue sitting nearby to a Neanderthal savage,” said Brao.
Brao threw himself down on his seat and pulled Lisa’s plate toward him. “Now I’ve got to eat her meal otherwise it’s wasted. And I’m a vegetarian, I don’t eat steak, or any meat, so I hope you are happy about this.”
Many flinched as Brao slammed his phone down onto his table and jabbed his finger into the touch screen a few times. Then his entrance music(Sure Looks Good To Me by Alicia Keys) began to blare out of it. Brao slowly carved the steak and delicately placed a chunk of the meat into his waiting, yet disgusted, mouth.
Restaurant staff descended, rallying together to form a big enough resistance to eject the maniacal wrestler from the establishment. Brao, realizing that his time was over, quickly swallowed the food he claimed he did not want to eat(or waste) and began shouting about the battle royal. Telling everyone that he would win and to tune in to see him rip all his opponents heads off.
“Don’t miss the massacre! This Sunday! WCF One!” he screamed as he was shoved through the door onto the street.
