Post by Tiffany White on Feb 28, 2016 16:43:12 GMT -5
Tiffany: More wine please, bartender.
It was a few days after the break-in. I had been told to evacuate the room as an investigation took place. They relocated me to a different hotel, one some ways away from the Holiday Inn. Truth be told /i didn’t hold much faith they’d turn up with anything, and while I’d like to think they’d do their job, the cynic in me said otherwise.
Thus, here I was. Sitting at a random dive bar in Texas, a small crowd of drunken locals surrounding me, and an empty glass of wine. I had been drinking for some time now, but I wasn’t buzzed at all. Fuck. I can’t even get properly drunk tonight, too angry. If anyone deserved to get wasted tonight, it was me.
The bartender came to me, a bottle of red wine in his hand. I could tell he was growing a bit concerned with how much I had been drinking. So fucking what.
Bartender: Ma’am, are you sure you can afford this stuff? I don’t sell it cheap, you know?
Tiffany: Money’s no object to me, I can handle it.
He shrugged, pouring the remainder of the bottle into my glass.
Bartender: Okay, but this is the last of it.
Tiffany: Much obliged.
I grabbed my wallet out my back pocket. Inside was a sizeable wad of cash, mostly hundreds and fifties. I took out a few bills, not sure how much exactly, and laid it down on the bar.
Tiffany: Keep the change.
He looked at the cash, intimidated from the looks of it. He examined exactly how much it was in his hands, I swear I’ve never seen someone’s eyes widen so much. I feel like I paid his entire week’s pay with one huge tip. Not a word came out of his mouth, he simply stuffed the cash in his pocket and went to tend another customer. He never came back to me for the rest of the night.
Tiffany: *muttering* A thank you would have been nice, but whatever.
Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Was someone really texting at this most inopportune time, really? It pissed me off, having to deal with whoever was texting me. After looking at the notification though, I saw it wasn’t a text. It was a notification from WCF’s YouTube channel. A video had apparently been uploaded, titled “Chane von Crank Finally Crosses the Line.” I shuddered. I knew what it was going to be before I even played it, but as horrible as it was going to be, I watched it anyway.
It took every fibre of my being to know throw up right then and there. Those...those noises. I tried to distract myself by chugging my wine. By the time the video was over the wine was gone as quickly as it came to me.
But the line that got to me the most wasn’t spoken by Chance, it wasn’t even said by any of the doctors or crew members. It was spoken by Pixie.
Pixie: I wanna fuck.
That just fuckin crushed me, man. I had worked so damn hard to make sure she was safe, that she’d have her baby and be happy. I wanted her to have a life away from Chance von Crank, where he couldn’t hurt her anymore. And to hear her not only accept Chance back into her life, but do it so willingly, so readily...it was a massive blow.
Tiffany: Barkeep! Over here!
The bartender, a little startled by my yelling at him, came over.
Bartender: Ma’am I already told you were out of-
Tiffany: Oh shut up and just get me a beer, will ya?
It went on like this for some time. I was finally getting a buzz, even if it was from shitty warm beer. No one in this bar knew who I was, and they appropriately left me alone. As they should. If some asshole came up to me trying to pick me up with their redneck PUA skills I made a mental note to wreck his shit. Luckily I wouldn’t need to. No one paid any attention to me...until he spotted me.
She seemed frightened just looking at me. Pretty young thing, she was. Couldn’t have been more than 19 or so. She was all covered up in a zip up hoodie, hood up to keep her blonde hair from overflowing to her shoulders. Despite her obvious reservations upon seeing me, my drunk brain thought it’d be a good idea to beckon her over.
Tiffany: Wassup, hun? Wanna have a seat here?
No response from her. She remained still, frightened.
Tiffany: C’mon, I’m not gonna bite you or anything, come sit with me.
Reluctantly she started walking towards me, still a little nervous. She took a seat beside me at the bar. I didn’t bother asking her if she wanted anything to drink, I figured she was probably underage.
Tiffany: You got a name, hun?
Victoria: Victoria.. It’s….it’s Victoria.
Tiffany: Well nice to meet you Victoria, I’m Ti-
Victoria: Oh I know who you are, Tiffany.
Slowly, she unzipped her hoodie, revealing a brand spanking new Tiffany White T-Shirt underneath. Oh if you could see the smile on my face.
Victoria: I’ve been a fan since....well, since I saw playing Poker on TV, really.
Tiffany: Get the fuck out, that’s amazing girl.
For the first time, I could see a hint of a smile on her face. It felt amazing to make such a shy girl happy like this (Even if I was pretty drunk at that point, hehe.) Why the fuck should I stop now. Let’s see where this goes.
Tiffany: Lemme ask you Victoria, what’s a young girl like you doing in this fucking joint.
Victoria: I could ask the same to you.
Tiffany: Touche. Just gettin drunk and running the poor barkeep outta wine. The usual. What about you?
Victoria: I’m...I’m just driving through. I usually have friends here but...I don’t think they’re here tonight.
Now that wasn’t true, I could tell in her tone she was making it up and she had no real reason to be here, but was I gonna tell her that? Nope. Not at all. No reason to ruin such a perfectly good thing now.
Tiffany: Well you’re stuck with me now, so at least you’re not alone with these...freaks, I guess. I’m tired of sitting in this place by myself, to be honest-
Victoria: I can drive you somewhere else if you want.
Tiffany: Whoa now, I usually like to get to know someone before I let them drive me around.
Victoria: Really?
She sounded worried. I tried keeping a straight face, but couldn’t. I became a giggling mess.
Tiffany: I’m kidding, let’s get the fuck out of here.
A look of relief washed over her, and she joined in my giggling, albeit hers was more nervous. All in all this probably wasn’t the smartest idea I’ve ever had, trying to get into a young fan’s pants like this, but can you blame me? I needed to find some escape from the Pixie incident, and ethical or not, this was the best thing at the time. I probably could’ve thought of something more productive, but my drunk and horny brain apparently had other plans.
We both walked out into the parking lot. She guided me to her ride, a simple little sedan. Nothing special about it. I opened the passenger door to reveal a mess of things on the floor.
Victoria: Sorry about the mess, I’ve been meaning to clean it for a while.
Tiffany: It’s fine hun, I’ve seen worse.
Victoria: So...do you want me to bring you to your hotel room or whatever? I mean, you obviously can’t drive right now.
Tiffany: Nah, they told me my room wasn’t ready for me yet. People before me had trashed it. Figures.
Oh boy, now I was telling lies of my own. Good going Tiff. Good. Going.
Victoria: Well...I guess I could bring you to my place for a bit while they get your room fixed. If you don’t mind, that is.
Tiffany: I suppose so. I’ll probably just end up sleeping on the couch the whole night.
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After a short-ish drive, we finally arrived at her place. I have no clue why my drunk brain didn’t pick up on this little fact, but we happened to be in the middle of a fucking trailer park. If I had been sober I’d have high tailed it the fuck out of there. But now? I didn’t care if I was at Gitmo as long as I got laid.
Victoria stepped out of her end of the car, as I stumbled my way out of mine. My overconfident ass thought I could make it the whole way through on my own. Nope, not more than three steps forward I start to tumble to the ground. Victoria quickly comes to my side, letting me lean on her as we make our way inside.
The inside of her trailer looked run down, like whoever owned the place was doing a sit job of keeping it up. Victoria didn’t strike me as the type of girl who would let her place get this shitty, I figured she must be living with relatives or something. Nobody else was there though. The smell of towering unwashed dishes overwhelmed me. Thank god I was drunk enough to not care about it.
We slinked on in, and plopped ourselves down on the couch nearby. Despite some holes and a bit of exposed spring at the end, I gotta say the couch was kinda comfy. Who knows, it may have just been the fact that Victoria, curiously enough, never took her arm off me, even as we sat, and she no longer needed to support me.
Tiffany: Thanks fam.
Victoria: You’re welcome.
Look at her. So polite. How adorable. Then I noticed her hand slowly moving from my shoulder down to my side. Whatever innocence she had was being ruined by her trying to cop a feel. A nervous feel, but a feel nonetheless.
Tiffany: Victoria, can I ask you a question?
Victoria: S-sure.
Tiffany: How old are you?
After a short pause…
Victoria: I’m 19.
Tiffany: PERFECT.
I fucking went after it. All my years of honing the art of what some called “making love” in exchange for the sloppiest fucking makeout session of my life. Oh. My. God. If I wasn’t her favorite wrestler before then I was for damn sure her favorite now. Here I was thinking she’d be nervous about the whole thing. This chick’s tongue...jesus fucking christ. For a moment the rest of the world faded away. The dish smell, the trailer, the couch, Pixie, WCF. Everything faded away, and all I could focus on was her tongue in my mouth. I don’t believe in God, but for the briefest of moments, I believed in Heaven.
My hand found it’s way to her crotch. Warm as fuck. Oh boy, here we go. I went for her hoodie zipper, and slowly unzipped...until she stopped me.
Victoria: I’ve-I’ve never been this far with a girl before.
Tiffany: Do you want me to stop, than?
Victoria: No. Make my first time special for me.
Tiffany: Glady.
I continued unzipping. Details began to fade from memory, more and more the bliss began to set in.
Jesus.
Fucking.
Christ.
But then, I heard something. Outside. The sound of a car or truck pulling into the driveway. Immediately, Victoria stopped. A look of panic spread over her face.
Victoria: Oh FUCK. Quick, we gotta get you out of here.
Tiffany: Wait, what. What’s going on?
Victoria: I don’t have time to explain, just...just hide in the closet in my parents room for now.
Tiffany: Why?
Victoria: JUST GO. I’ll explain later.
Confused, I got up and made my way to what looked to be her parents bedroom, stuffing myself in the closet as instructed. The only thing that could make laugh during this whole debacle was that now I felt like R. Kelly. If I only had my beretta on me. I could hear Victoria still in the living room.
Victoria: Fuck. He told me they’d be gone all night. If they see me in this they’ll fucking kill me.
Say what now? Why would a Tiff White shirt drive someone to potentially commit murder. Then I began snooping around the closet, and in the darkness, I began to make out the design of one of the shirts. It was an adult sized Chance von Crank shirt.
OH.
DEAR.
It was a few days after the break-in. I had been told to evacuate the room as an investigation took place. They relocated me to a different hotel, one some ways away from the Holiday Inn. Truth be told /i didn’t hold much faith they’d turn up with anything, and while I’d like to think they’d do their job, the cynic in me said otherwise.
Thus, here I was. Sitting at a random dive bar in Texas, a small crowd of drunken locals surrounding me, and an empty glass of wine. I had been drinking for some time now, but I wasn’t buzzed at all. Fuck. I can’t even get properly drunk tonight, too angry. If anyone deserved to get wasted tonight, it was me.
The bartender came to me, a bottle of red wine in his hand. I could tell he was growing a bit concerned with how much I had been drinking. So fucking what.
Bartender: Ma’am, are you sure you can afford this stuff? I don’t sell it cheap, you know?
Tiffany: Money’s no object to me, I can handle it.
He shrugged, pouring the remainder of the bottle into my glass.
Bartender: Okay, but this is the last of it.
Tiffany: Much obliged.
I grabbed my wallet out my back pocket. Inside was a sizeable wad of cash, mostly hundreds and fifties. I took out a few bills, not sure how much exactly, and laid it down on the bar.
Tiffany: Keep the change.
He looked at the cash, intimidated from the looks of it. He examined exactly how much it was in his hands, I swear I’ve never seen someone’s eyes widen so much. I feel like I paid his entire week’s pay with one huge tip. Not a word came out of his mouth, he simply stuffed the cash in his pocket and went to tend another customer. He never came back to me for the rest of the night.
Tiffany: *muttering* A thank you would have been nice, but whatever.
Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Was someone really texting at this most inopportune time, really? It pissed me off, having to deal with whoever was texting me. After looking at the notification though, I saw it wasn’t a text. It was a notification from WCF’s YouTube channel. A video had apparently been uploaded, titled “Chane von Crank Finally Crosses the Line.” I shuddered. I knew what it was going to be before I even played it, but as horrible as it was going to be, I watched it anyway.
It took every fibre of my being to know throw up right then and there. Those...those noises. I tried to distract myself by chugging my wine. By the time the video was over the wine was gone as quickly as it came to me.
But the line that got to me the most wasn’t spoken by Chance, it wasn’t even said by any of the doctors or crew members. It was spoken by Pixie.
Pixie: I wanna fuck.
That just fuckin crushed me, man. I had worked so damn hard to make sure she was safe, that she’d have her baby and be happy. I wanted her to have a life away from Chance von Crank, where he couldn’t hurt her anymore. And to hear her not only accept Chance back into her life, but do it so willingly, so readily...it was a massive blow.
Tiffany: Barkeep! Over here!
The bartender, a little startled by my yelling at him, came over.
Bartender: Ma’am I already told you were out of-
Tiffany: Oh shut up and just get me a beer, will ya?
It went on like this for some time. I was finally getting a buzz, even if it was from shitty warm beer. No one in this bar knew who I was, and they appropriately left me alone. As they should. If some asshole came up to me trying to pick me up with their redneck PUA skills I made a mental note to wreck his shit. Luckily I wouldn’t need to. No one paid any attention to me...until he spotted me.
She seemed frightened just looking at me. Pretty young thing, she was. Couldn’t have been more than 19 or so. She was all covered up in a zip up hoodie, hood up to keep her blonde hair from overflowing to her shoulders. Despite her obvious reservations upon seeing me, my drunk brain thought it’d be a good idea to beckon her over.
Tiffany: Wassup, hun? Wanna have a seat here?
No response from her. She remained still, frightened.
Tiffany: C’mon, I’m not gonna bite you or anything, come sit with me.
Reluctantly she started walking towards me, still a little nervous. She took a seat beside me at the bar. I didn’t bother asking her if she wanted anything to drink, I figured she was probably underage.
Tiffany: You got a name, hun?
Victoria: Victoria.. It’s….it’s Victoria.
Tiffany: Well nice to meet you Victoria, I’m Ti-
Victoria: Oh I know who you are, Tiffany.
Slowly, she unzipped her hoodie, revealing a brand spanking new Tiffany White T-Shirt underneath. Oh if you could see the smile on my face.
Victoria: I’ve been a fan since....well, since I saw playing Poker on TV, really.
Tiffany: Get the fuck out, that’s amazing girl.
For the first time, I could see a hint of a smile on her face. It felt amazing to make such a shy girl happy like this (Even if I was pretty drunk at that point, hehe.) Why the fuck should I stop now. Let’s see where this goes.
Tiffany: Lemme ask you Victoria, what’s a young girl like you doing in this fucking joint.
Victoria: I could ask the same to you.
Tiffany: Touche. Just gettin drunk and running the poor barkeep outta wine. The usual. What about you?
Victoria: I’m...I’m just driving through. I usually have friends here but...I don’t think they’re here tonight.
Now that wasn’t true, I could tell in her tone she was making it up and she had no real reason to be here, but was I gonna tell her that? Nope. Not at all. No reason to ruin such a perfectly good thing now.
Tiffany: Well you’re stuck with me now, so at least you’re not alone with these...freaks, I guess. I’m tired of sitting in this place by myself, to be honest-
Victoria: I can drive you somewhere else if you want.
Tiffany: Whoa now, I usually like to get to know someone before I let them drive me around.
Victoria: Really?
She sounded worried. I tried keeping a straight face, but couldn’t. I became a giggling mess.
Tiffany: I’m kidding, let’s get the fuck out of here.
A look of relief washed over her, and she joined in my giggling, albeit hers was more nervous. All in all this probably wasn’t the smartest idea I’ve ever had, trying to get into a young fan’s pants like this, but can you blame me? I needed to find some escape from the Pixie incident, and ethical or not, this was the best thing at the time. I probably could’ve thought of something more productive, but my drunk and horny brain apparently had other plans.
We both walked out into the parking lot. She guided me to her ride, a simple little sedan. Nothing special about it. I opened the passenger door to reveal a mess of things on the floor.
Victoria: Sorry about the mess, I’ve been meaning to clean it for a while.
Tiffany: It’s fine hun, I’ve seen worse.
Victoria: So...do you want me to bring you to your hotel room or whatever? I mean, you obviously can’t drive right now.
Tiffany: Nah, they told me my room wasn’t ready for me yet. People before me had trashed it. Figures.
Oh boy, now I was telling lies of my own. Good going Tiff. Good. Going.
Victoria: Well...I guess I could bring you to my place for a bit while they get your room fixed. If you don’t mind, that is.
Tiffany: I suppose so. I’ll probably just end up sleeping on the couch the whole night.
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After a short-ish drive, we finally arrived at her place. I have no clue why my drunk brain didn’t pick up on this little fact, but we happened to be in the middle of a fucking trailer park. If I had been sober I’d have high tailed it the fuck out of there. But now? I didn’t care if I was at Gitmo as long as I got laid.
Victoria stepped out of her end of the car, as I stumbled my way out of mine. My overconfident ass thought I could make it the whole way through on my own. Nope, not more than three steps forward I start to tumble to the ground. Victoria quickly comes to my side, letting me lean on her as we make our way inside.
The inside of her trailer looked run down, like whoever owned the place was doing a sit job of keeping it up. Victoria didn’t strike me as the type of girl who would let her place get this shitty, I figured she must be living with relatives or something. Nobody else was there though. The smell of towering unwashed dishes overwhelmed me. Thank god I was drunk enough to not care about it.
We slinked on in, and plopped ourselves down on the couch nearby. Despite some holes and a bit of exposed spring at the end, I gotta say the couch was kinda comfy. Who knows, it may have just been the fact that Victoria, curiously enough, never took her arm off me, even as we sat, and she no longer needed to support me.
Tiffany: Thanks fam.
Victoria: You’re welcome.
Look at her. So polite. How adorable. Then I noticed her hand slowly moving from my shoulder down to my side. Whatever innocence she had was being ruined by her trying to cop a feel. A nervous feel, but a feel nonetheless.
Tiffany: Victoria, can I ask you a question?
Victoria: S-sure.
Tiffany: How old are you?
After a short pause…
Victoria: I’m 19.
Tiffany: PERFECT.
I fucking went after it. All my years of honing the art of what some called “making love” in exchange for the sloppiest fucking makeout session of my life. Oh. My. God. If I wasn’t her favorite wrestler before then I was for damn sure her favorite now. Here I was thinking she’d be nervous about the whole thing. This chick’s tongue...jesus fucking christ. For a moment the rest of the world faded away. The dish smell, the trailer, the couch, Pixie, WCF. Everything faded away, and all I could focus on was her tongue in my mouth. I don’t believe in God, but for the briefest of moments, I believed in Heaven.
My hand found it’s way to her crotch. Warm as fuck. Oh boy, here we go. I went for her hoodie zipper, and slowly unzipped...until she stopped me.
Victoria: I’ve-I’ve never been this far with a girl before.
Tiffany: Do you want me to stop, than?
Victoria: No. Make my first time special for me.
Tiffany: Glady.
I continued unzipping. Details began to fade from memory, more and more the bliss began to set in.
Jesus.
Fucking.
Christ.
But then, I heard something. Outside. The sound of a car or truck pulling into the driveway. Immediately, Victoria stopped. A look of panic spread over her face.
Victoria: Oh FUCK. Quick, we gotta get you out of here.
Tiffany: Wait, what. What’s going on?
Victoria: I don’t have time to explain, just...just hide in the closet in my parents room for now.
Tiffany: Why?
Victoria: JUST GO. I’ll explain later.
Confused, I got up and made my way to what looked to be her parents bedroom, stuffing myself in the closet as instructed. The only thing that could make laugh during this whole debacle was that now I felt like R. Kelly. If I only had my beretta on me. I could hear Victoria still in the living room.
Victoria: Fuck. He told me they’d be gone all night. If they see me in this they’ll fucking kill me.
Say what now? Why would a Tiff White shirt drive someone to potentially commit murder. Then I began snooping around the closet, and in the darkness, I began to make out the design of one of the shirts. It was an adult sized Chance von Crank shirt.
OH.
DEAR.
