Blazers: Hey thread

[Thread]

Chapter 12.

The hotel overlooked the Falls. I'd seen the listing when I was planning the trip. The room rates were beyond anything we could afford. Way past our means.

Henri tried to get us to come up to his room while he changed for dinner. "To see, to see the Falls. I have a fantastic view. Magnifique." Katie had the restraint to look to me for permission.

"No." Me.

"After dinner for sure, Henri. Merci." Katie.

He left us in the lounge after speaking softly in French to the maitre d. He was known and he was respected.

"Cully, we should have went up. I want to see the Falls from up there."

"I'm sure we'll end up there sooner or later, Girl. You like the attention of an older man, do you not, youngster?" I teased. She furiously blushed in response.

"I think so." Her eyes a fierce hazel under the muted lighting.

"Are you really sans panties, mon cheri?" My best imitation of Maurice Chevalier.

"Qui, monsieur." Her giggle exquisite. "Here, Cully-Boy, let me show monsieur." She glided around the arc of the crescent booth we were seated in-molded against my form-took my right hand-marinated my index finger in her warm mouth-unobtrusively guided it between her legs-beneath her short black tail dress-and whispered softly into my right ear:::"Est-ce que?"

"Katie!" I admonished her, my index finger getting a fresh marinade.

Her laughter igniting my mood, transcending me from severe angst to rapt anticipation in a matter of moments.

"Do you still wish to observatrice, monsieur?"

"Qui, mademoiselle."

"Amour?"

"Amour, mademoiselle."

[Thread]

Chapter 13.

Girl sat between us in a private quiet corner table. Henri ordered for us which ruined my plan to order the aforementioned cheeseburger and fries. I began to mellow out quite nicely once the champagne started flowing. Henri seemed to be making an effort to include me, at least a little more effort. I'm not very good at holding my alcohol. I don't get mean, nor sick, but, I do get sleepy and (reflective?). Katie though likes to party and she appreciates good wine. And this champagne was simply the best. Absolutely delectable.

We were half way thru dinner and well into our second bottle of the bubbly when I decided to let the evening takes it's natural course-let this man have Katie and me for that matter. Not me in a physical sense, no, but, mentally, yes. That would be a necessity, or, it could and would never work. At least one of us would end up unhappy if I didn't cede control to this fellow and go along to the end. The alcohol made my capitulation vastly easier. I made my surrender in like a split second, perhaps less.

They served a crème Brule that I'll take to my grave. It was beyond anything imaginable. I wanted to order one to go, but, Katie told me if I did I'd walk back to Cleveland with it. Henri got quite a kick out of that tête-à-tête.

After we finished our dessert and were enjoying our coffee Henri drained the last of 3 bottles among us then presented a toast, the most intimate of the evening. I was included but he spoke directly to my wife.

"Mademoiselle,,,,,,Monsieur, to an infinies nuit, infinies. Amour trois, qui?"

I immediately recognized "trois" from my large Penthouse Magazine Letters section collection. I couldn't ing wait.

He touched my glass first then interlaced his goblet with hers. I know it's crazy but I found the moment--the act exceedingly romantic if for no other reason than my right hand & Girl's left were clutched tightly the entire sequence.

She'd never taken her eyes from his.

[Thread]

Chapter 14.

As the elevator doors finally & mercifully closed on just our trois Girl broke from my tight embrace behind her-crossed the space between us-and fell into Henri's open arms. They engaged in a kiss that immediately crossed into his people's christened name. I fell back against the elevator car wall, my head began to spin at a slow, deliberate gait. We'd never kissed like that. She'd never cared much for French kissing to be honest, so I hadn't pressed the act during our relationship. "Christ." I lightly hissed.

She was on tiptoes when he cupped her bottom cheeks thru the light fabric of her mini dress. 'Don't draw that up, she's naked up under there, bud.' Unfortunately, or, fortunately Henri could not read minds and he drew it up. Girl's perfectly round & pink ass, cut judiciously by a divide that God had created on his best day was a genuine American masterpiece framed by sheer black nylons and a garter belt as wicked as the nuit we were ascending to.

"Ohhhhhhhhh........." I couldn't help myself, I swear to God.

Henri traced, with the very tip his own right index finger the surface of that crevice from below and close to where I'd earlier marinated my own index finger to the apex where twin dimples I'd committed to memory on prom night a decade earlier had sealed my heart. Their kiss went on.

He loitered then with his index fingers my find, those twin dimples, his opposing thumbs keeping the dress at bay and away from one of God's miracles on earth.

"Grrrrrrrrr........." I couldn't help myself, He is my witness.

In response Girl sustained her left tip toe, but, bent her right leg at the knee, her 3" high heel pointing at me---with a purpose? Their kiss went on.

He stopped fiddling with my dimples and pointed at me. Well, not at me, but, the elevator doors. 'Christ, we hadn't even budged.' Then the finger pointed skyward.

"Up?" My voice sounded like Katie's.

His hand sliced the air, then pointed skyward again.

"All the way?" My voice sounded like Katie's.

He hand sliced the air, then took station at the edge of her left cheek. The finger tips of his left hand were poised along the edge of Girl's right cheek. 'Uh, uh, I don't believe I can stand this, Henri. Please?' I mashed the white "PENTHOUSE" button.

Against my better judgment and unspoken plea that French bas divided before my very eyes living proof that God walks this earth.

The car initiated it's ascent......their kiss went on.

[Thread]

Chapter 15.

We came to a stop, but, the doors stayed closed. As he ended their endless kiss Girl immediately dropped to her knees and grasped for his belt buckle.

He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a key ring.

"In the compartment, merci Cully." His voice genuine and caring for the first time since he began bumping into us at Tussauds. He nodded to his right and tossed me the key ring. I muffed the catch, of course, bent, picked it up and opened the compartment door. As I pushed the thick solid rod into the hole I heard behind me somebody's belt being unbuckled, a zipper being pulled, and pants dropping heavily to the elevator car floor. I twisted the rod home and the elevator doors divided at once.

I caught just a sliver of a glimpse of colored lights dancing over the cataracts before I twisted back around.

We'd never kissed like that. She'd never cared much for French kis.....Wrong "never" confession. Sorry. She'd never performed oral sex on me, well very rarely. Like once in a blue moon. She'd never cared much for oral sex to be honest, so I hadn't pressed the act dur....oh, you know the rest of the drill by now.

She yanked Henri's white boxers down to his knees, his modestly sized standing straight out, it's natural curvature-of course-you guessed it-pointed at me. As I watched my wife swallow this man's meat I praised my foresight for buying her that 3 year subscription to "Cosmopolitan" Magazine for Christmas 2 years prior. She must have, and I mean must have picked up the expert a en for oral copulation from that publication. 'Bless you, Helen..Gurly..Brown....you-- ing-- --you.'

Katie had both hands busy with Henri's scrotum, her mouth full of French dip. 'How can she breath? I don't know. Practice? Bite it, Cully!' I could tell you how she will not handle my bean bag, but, I won't bore you. 'You're ing welcome.'

"Mon ange...mon amour." He'd went up on the edge of his heels. 'Oh, Christ.'

"Katie." I kept my pitch noncommittal. And quite frankly I was indeed such.

She'd not moved her head, just let his meat age in her humidor (get it, mouth?) as she tugged and squeezed his bag. How he held fire was a living testament to everything his fellow countrymen had displayed in the big one, WWII.

I wanted to pull her away, but, I didn't want to make a mistake. Henri stepped into the lurch.

"Mon bebe, mon amour. Arreter, cheri, mon cheri, arreter."

Katie let his fall from her mouth, her breathing now coming in great gasps.

"Take her, Cully. The boudoir left and then right. Merci, Cully. Cheri, prochainement." He assisted Girl to her feet, their eyes locked, their breathing labored, he kissed both her cheeks then beckoned me forward with but a nod.

I too was under this man's spell.

I instantly obeyed.

[Thread]

Chapter 16.

"C'mon, baby. C'mon, Katie-Girl." I tried to lead her away, but, she wouldn't break eye contact with Henri. She was completely out of it. The combination of the champagne and his presence had her near catatonia.

He leaned forward and softly whispered in French close to her right ear.

She quickly countered: "Veuillez faire l'amour pour moi. Moi, Henri?"

"Qui, mademoiselle. Prochainement, cheri. Bebe." Again he nodded toward me. "Cully."

"Prochainement, vous promesse?"

"Qui, cheri, je promets. Cully, you'll need to carry her,,,,now. Merci."

I'd do anything this man told me to do. I too had become captivated. I scooped Katie up in arms. She was light as a feather.

"Non, seulement avec yous." Her voice adamant.

"Qui bebe. Prochainement. Left and all the way down then right, Cully. Merci."

I felt like I was in an X-rated Twilight Zone episode. He kissed her hand and stroked her cheek then dismissed us with his eyes.

As we turned left out of the elevator car she quickly turned her face to my chest. She was hiding. I caught a better look at the cataracts. They were incredible. The entire wall was composed of floor to ceiling windows. I was stunned but kept moving. We finally reached the end of the hallway and turned in to the bedroom. The curtains had been opened, the view sustained in the bedroom as well.

"Katie, you need to see this, baby."

I carried her to the windows. "Look sweetheart."

"No, I want to see it with Henri. Set me down, Cully, now!" She wasn't as catatonic as I'd thought. I complied. She smoothed her dress down and faced me. The lights were on, but, there wasn't anyone home.

"Katie, get control of yourself." I made a move to bring her to me.

"No, I want Henri." She backed away toward the bedroom door. I froze in place. Katie could be quite unmanageable when she made up her mind to be. And she'd made up her mind to be.

"I'm going in here until Henri returns. Knock on the door when he arrives. And not until. Promise me, Cully." She stepped into what turned out to be the bathroom.

"I pro......She slammed the door in my face and threw the lock......mise. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck me."

[Thread]

Chapter 17.

A couple minutes later I heard what I was positive was the shower running in there. 'Maybe that will cool her off.' I returned to my viewpoint over the horseshoe. If it all went to from this point on at least I got to see this.

"Ah, Cully, enjoying a wonder of our world." Henri had returned. He was carrying a tray with an ice bucket holding a bottle of wine.

"Where is your beautiful wife, Cully?"

I motioned to the bathroom area.

"Getting wet I see. Ah, such a beautiful child." He popped the cork and poured forth three goblets. Then handed one to me and took another for himself. "To Canada and to your sovereign, Cully. May we shoulder-to-shoulder till there are no more tomorrows." We touched glasses.

"Viva la France, Henri. Viva la France."

"Viva la France, Cully......He covered his heart with his right hand......You're living proof that youth is not wasted upon the young."

We touched glasses.

He'd donned a satin robe that covered him to mid thigh. If I were not mistaken I also believe he'd caught a quick shave.

"Pardon, Cully, do you like men?" He was blunt. And I liked blunt men and women.

Katie had been after me since our junior high school days to always tell the truth. "Cully, when the lie is worse than the truth, tell the truth." I didn't always abide her advice but I did here.

"No, Henri." I was blunt.

"En suspens! That means outstanding, Cully. Neither do I. I just like to know who I'm with."

"If you give her to me tonight...I promise to give her back tomorrow, if tomorrow ever comes."

"What?" Though I'd heard him plainly.

"Do you trust me, Cully?"

"I really don't know you, Henri. We met but a few hours ago."

"Do you have faith, Cully?"

"In whom?"

"Man."

"Yes, some men, my father for instance."

"Ahhhhhhhhhh, I see. Have faith in me. Let me be your father tonight. Do you understand, Cully?"

"You won't harm her?"

Henri shook his head. "Je promets."

"You'll give her back sometime before there are no more tomorrows?" I smiled as we met eye.

He chuckled and once more laid his hand across his heart. "Je promets."

The shower ceased---The white noise it provided gone in an instant---The silence deafening.

"Do you trust me, my son?"

"Qui, father." I'd hesitated nary a beat.

[Thread]

Chapter 18.

A few minutes later Girl stuck her head out the bathroom door.

"Psst, Cully, may I see you in here a moment?" We turned in unison. She crooked her finger at me. "And grab my purse there." She pointed at the bed. Henri must have retrieved it from the elevator car floor where she'd dropped it.

"Pardonnez-nous, mon amour." She smiled warmly at Henri.

"Prochainement, belle fille? Henri est desesperee pour vous, bebe. Depechez-vous mon amour."

Thru the steam escaping from the small doorway opening my wife eased the door a few inches more and leaned forward a white towel covering her pubic mound barely and her breasts not at all. 'Katie!' I silently admonished her. "Tout au long de la nuit, ma darling Henri." Then eased back in the few inches.

"Jusqu'a ce que le soleil se leve, belle enfant." He sent this salutation with a thrown kiss that I could have easily intercepted, but, I let it go thru to the intended target. I was already in enough trouble, though I hadn't done a damn thing. I just felt impending doom.

"Qui, my love." She actually caught the damn thing and made me regret the lost opportunity for an interception. Katie held the captured kiss close to her naked left breast then pushed the door to.

"Excuse us, Henri. please."

"It is my most regrettable pleasure, mes enfants."

I stepped into a virtual sauna bath. She was facing mirrors over twins sinks, the white towel had been discarded and rested on the vanity counter. Katie-Girl was butt naked. I set her purse next to it then tried to meet Katie's eyes in the heavily fogged mirrors. She refused. 'Brat.'

"Katie, what does [mes enfants] mean?"

"[My children] why?"

"Just Henri. I think he's adopted us."

"He's so adorable." Katie was abrupt now, her tone static now. She brushed out her hair.

"Cully?" Her tone changed, just like that. "Uh, oh." She wiped a path thru the fogged mirror and cast her best Katie-Girl smile into the path of clearance.

"I want you to do me a big favor. Now, don't say 'no.'"...........my heart stopped, I swear it. The mirror fogged the path over again. "Please remain in here while I go to Henri. Please, monsieur, for the mademoiselle?" My stomach's knot returned and with a vengeance.

"Mademoiselle my ass. No way, Jose'." 'Spanish 101, daddy-O.'

She turned and faced me, like I said, butt naked. "Please, for me, Cully-Boy, for your little girl?" She'd been my little girl since she was just a little girl. There is a picture of us, it's a b&w snapshot my father had taken. We're side-by-side and fast asleep, exhausted from fun and frolic and like this night she is topless, we both are. We're in dreamless slumber on her mother's (my mother in-the-law by marriage) quilt under the shade of an oak tree. And under the protection of both our families. The families had picnicked at Euclid Beach Park on a warm Sunday afternoon. I am 6. Girl is 4.

"Katie...." I grimaced.

"You can have anything you want. Name it." I perked up immediately.

By God, I had her! "The Magnum Pass at Gizmo's!" Gizmo's was an arcade in the Old Market area of Omaha. I was a living legend there ruling the metro area in Space Invaders and the Atlantis pinball machine. She'd consistently refused to let me purchase The Magnum Pass. "It's too expensive, Cully. Absolutely not. You spend too much time down there as it is. No." If I heard that once I'd heard it a 1000 times.

"Deal." The knot in my stomach tightened. I'd been had.

"Katie, but, not the entire time, just for a little while, okay? I want to observatrice, remember?"

"A half-hour and you can still listen, qui, mon amour?" She faced the mirrors, the steam gone now. Our reflection sharp and clean.

I moved in behind her, slid my hands around her waist and laced them there just above her closely cropped nest. I knew better than to ask for a quickie. It was not my night. It was hers and our benefactors. I'd signed over to them both now. First Henri, now my wife.

"Amour?" Into the glass.

"Amour, mademoiselle." Into her eyes.

[Thread]

Chapter 19.

She reached and held tight to the door handle. She did not turn it. No. "One last thing, Cully-Boy." My entire body twitched. I watched her slowly turn back to me thru the glass. She was so ing nude.

"Should I keep it warm for you?" A matter-of-fact tone escaped her lips. Like conversing about the weather.

"What?" , I knew perfectly well what.

"You know perfectly well what." See?

"You wouldn't tell Henri, would you?" My voice sounded like Katie's.

"That's your decision, mon amour."

"No, whatever you do, don't tell Henri." My voice sounded like Katie's.

"It will be our secret then. Je promets, Monsieur."

"Qui." My voice sounded like Katie's.

"Qui."

"You'll be back with it soon, mon cherie?" My voice regulated, my eyes closed on our reflection. I was hiding.

"Qui, Cully-Boy, qui. Warm, and ready to servir. Qui, qui, qui, pe Cully-garcon." She giggled with gusto.

She was suddenly quiet. I bravely opened my eyes. The reflection was of one.

Katie-Girl had gone.

[Thread]

Chapter 20.

I'd like to tell you what I heard Girl & Henri doing during the span of time when we were separated. Alas, I cannot. I tried, I swear to you I tried to approach that closed door, that wall of wood. God is my witness I tried so ing hard, readers. But, in the end I could do nothing but withdraw. , retreat-retreat to the anti-room where the shower stall, toilet and bidet were stationed. And I put the door to that room between us as well. Yes, I did. I tried. Goddamn it, I did try. Goddamn you! I tell you I did. It's important to me that you believe me, because I did not believe myself. I then fled to the furthest corner of the still damp shower stall and shut that final wall as well. One of frosted glass.

And I'll confess further. I'll confess it all. I considered many acts sitting on that cold, wet tile: masturbation, flagellation, petty theft, vandalism, graffiti, urination, opening my bowels, yes that, and finally I considered homicide, double homicide and lastly suicide.

In the end I removed my Timex, twisted myself in the fetal position in standing water and set that watch close to my line of sight.

And I waited.

And I watched.

I never closed my eyes.

[Rogue]

Our friend Cully hasn't posted for about two days already, maybe he just needs a break and he deserves it. He had been the main upthrust that kept our board afloat since the off-season began, but the workload was obviously too heavy for a senior citizen imho, though he still has a young heart. I want him to come back as soon as possible but at the same time, I also want him to enjoy his vacation as much as he likes. The forum has been awfully quiet over the last two days in his absence, supposedly. But I believe the return of Ghazi, another legend of our website, is enough to make it possible for Cully to enjoy his time outside Spurstalk, without worrying too much about the website.

I was so inebriated by Cully's novel "Goddess after midnight" that I've been feeling deflated since the last chapter was published, as if something essential was missing in my life, something I couldn't tell but can actually feel. So I've made up my mind to write a sequal to that novel, and also to my "goddess" novel, and to merge them all into one if possible. I just finished two chapters, with "Goddess of tomorrow" being its working le

--------------------

Goddess of tomorrow

by Mark Celibate/Rogue Smith (pen name given by Cully, my adorable mentor)

Rogue slept in his chair for what seemed like the entire day. When he woke up and looked outside the windows, everything already looked dark, again, just like how it looked about the same time yesterday, when the limousine stopped in front of his door... He couldn't help but rush to the door and open it, but this time, he didn't find nothing. No limousine, no Scarlett inside the limousine... Scarlett might've arrived in Miami Florida already... He felt the past 24 hours was probably just a dream. He would rather believe it was just a dream, because he wouldn't forgive himself if he had been actually so close to her, but then let everything pass away.


Chapter One

For the next a few days Rogue was living in a state of distraction, and probably even worse- delusion. Delusion might not be a strange word to most Mavericks fans, but it doesn’t go to such an extreme level on everyone as it does on Rogue. The “midnight” spent together with his “goddess” might be the happiest period of time Rogue had ever experienced in the past 25yrs of his life, it felt just like a dream to him, a dream he would never want to wake up from. His body did wake up from it, but his mind not yet, and probably never would.

The intriguing image of his goddess was still flashing before his eyes, and when he opened his closet, he could still smell the scent of Scarlett. Yes, he kept carefully in the closet those clothes he wore on that special night, which was still drenched with his own sweat and that of his goddess’s.

The sweet memory kept distracting him from those stuffs he had to deal with in the real life, his job, his social life as well as his grand blueprint of becoming a writer like his friend Cully. It made it extremely hard for him to stay focused on anything. He felt lonely, and a bit depressed, like he just finished watching a great movie, no… he was in the movie himself. He was the protagonist, but not the director. He knew that no feast would last forever, and he was mentally prepared for such loneliness and sadness, but sure as he could never expect such feelings to come so strongly like Katrina.

He was reprimanded quite a few times by his boss at the job the week after, and finally it pushed him to a point where he decided to quit that job. In fact, he had been tired of that treadmill job for long, and quitting the job was just a decision that he would’ve made months ago but for his parents’ disapproval. But finally, it was his “goddess” that gave him the courage to make the “bold” decision, regardless of his parents’ opposition.

Parents didn’t quite like that job either. They really thought highly of their son, and they wanted him to be more successful than his two elder brothers, one of whom was an architect and the other a cop. But unfortunately enough, Rogue was born and raised in a ty time, and was stuck in a ty economy when he graduated from college. He failed to find a good job the first several months after graduation, not even one as good as either of his brother’s despite that he was a better student than them both all the way through school years, from primary school, middle school to college, until November that year, when he got the treadmill job that he had worked at for several years, and that he had just quitted.

His parents didn’t need his money though, they weren’t rich but still had enough money to cover the living cost of a thrifty guy that Rogue was, but they wanted him to go out and work regardless of the pay because they wanted him to live a “normal” life- get a job and a girl friend, then get married and boom, just like his brothers did. The eldest brother had been married for several years, with a 3yr old son, while the other bro got married last year and his wife was pregnant, scheduled to give birth in October. Parents wanted Rogue to follow that way, but that wasn’t what Rogue wanted, not at all.

Rogue aspired to being a brilliant person, a world-famous celebrity like his “goddess” Scarlett, or at least an honorable writer like his friend Cully, while marriage was the last thing Rogue wanted to consider at this point of time. And now, Rogue had the chance to achieve both. His “goddess” novel was well received among his friends, mostly e-friends he knew on a sports message board called “spurstalk”, meanwhile, he was already well known a writer, at least in the DFW area, thanks to the brief appearance on the “Hitch ” premiere, which could be an au ious start to the career of a celebrity if he wanted to have one, as a screen writer, an actor, or simply a talkshow host. Rogue could clearly see a bright future for himself, and he was firmly convinced he would be able to succeed with the support of his fans, and his goddess if needed, so he wouldn’t allow anyone or anything to ruin his dream, not even his parents. He was just determined.

His parents supported Rogue’s choice though, and they didn’t seem to have any other option. Disappoint was their first reaction to the news of their son quitting his job, but it later turned into delight because they realized that their son would come back home to live with them, bringing home some liveliness which had been missing in this ample house for so long… Rogue also needed them too, not just financially, but he also felt lonely and needed someone, or ones to live with him. He was technically no longer a “celibate” or a “hermit”, though his parents had no idea what had happened to him.

[Rogue]

Chapter two

Besides his ambition and his currently disordered mental state, there was another reason why he chose to quit that job. He felt terrible physically from that night onward, as though he could hardly breathe in enough air for his body’s need. It might be the aftermath of losing his virginity which in his opinion was the source of power that kept him healthy for the past 25yrs. But he didn’t regret it, he didn’t regret nothing, he wouldn’t regret nothing as long as he made his “goddess” feel happy.

Rogue thought things would turn better after moving back home, but to the contrary, his health only got worse day after day. He used to eat more than his parents combined when he was younger, but now he felt as if his stomach was always full, and so was his abdomen like it could explode anytime. His heart was pumping irregularly and he started to lose weight very quickly.

Parents were concerned about the health of their son, and they sent him to a local hospital, but even the doctors couldn’t find anything wrong with his body, which was basically functioning well. Medically, he was still healthy, but it just didn’t feel that way for Rogue himself.

There was no tumor, no virus in his body, but it was still deteriorating pretty fast. Rogue’s dreams seemed jeopardized, which Rogue also knew, and that was exactly what he was most worried about, even more than his own health. He just didn’t want to imagine how life would be to his parents and his brothers, without him… nor did he want to think of the possibility of getting those dreams buried into the ground. He had so many things in his life waiting for him to achieve, and Rogue wasn’t ready to give up yet.

Rogue was still very conscious though, he could still talk, think, and sometimes even make jokes with his brothers. There was no agony in his body obviously. “Maybe it’s the best way to lose weight” Rogue said jokingly.

Rogue was a bit overweight, actually pretty fat before falling sick, though even the fattest version of him was still one or two classes below his brothers. The cop was stout, a perfectly shaped male figure if not looking at his big belly, which jutted out like a water melon and negated it all. The architect was even fatter, to be honest, having rolls of flab all over his body, from neck to his feet. Those bros came to the hospital on a daily basis, or at least every two days when they were busy. They were also Rogue’s best friends in the real life.

And there was another man who came to the hospital to see Rogue almost everyday, he was a friend to the Smith family, a private contractor whom Rogue’s dad came to know about 10 years ago, and they soon became good friends after just a few meetings thanks to their common interests in such subjects as fishing, auto, politics and of course, basketball.

That man’s name was David. David Mike Cobs was his full name, his colleagues and friends usually referred to him simply as DMC. He was about the same age as Rogue’s dad, maybe a bit younger. DMC was probably an “old” man by the biological standard, at about 52 but he still had the heart of a 25yr old it seemed like. He never acted in an avuncular way in front of Rogue or his brothers, like he was just trying to be a friend with them… He was indeed their friend, to be exact. Dad asked them to call him “Uncle Cobs” but they’d rather call him David, DMC or sometimes as simple as D, and their old friend pretty much liked being called that way,

[Rogue]

Chapter Three

DMC was an eminent expert in his area, but his family life was just as much a failure as the success his career was. He broke up with his wife when his son was only 8, the only child he had. The son grew up in his mom’s family, now 20yr old, already starting to date white girls. He was supposedly estranged with his dad, though they were still in contact, exchanging Christmas cards and stuffs, but nothing more than that. Maybe DMC could never accept the fact of being “old”. He would refer to anyone as “bro” or “sis”, even the kindergarteners.

DMC was a private contractor so he needn’t go out to work from 9 to 5 like the working class, actually he only needed to work a few days in weeks, then spent the rest of time posting on the internet, arguing with guys and girls of only half his age, or even younger. Spurstalk was the site that both guys frequented. Rogue was an old-school member and he introduced that site to DMC, who couldn’t stop posting there from then on. It seemed like posting had become a part-time job for him, or to be accurate, a full-time job for him with the “private contract” being the part-time.

But DMC had been posting less recently, much less than he usually did before Rogue fell sick. He came to the hospital even more often than Rogue’s brothers did. He was still posting on Spurstalk, for the only purpose of bringing the latest updates about Rogue’s health to the board, to the posters who were also considerately concerned about Rogue.

“Hey Ro, what’s up bro?” Here came DMC, at about 9am, the same time he came to the hospital almost everyday.

“Nothing much bro, just chilling and… you know the whole ’s boring as here” Rogue responded.

The time when DMC arrived was always the happiest time for Rogue. He felt lonely at home, in his rented apartment as well as in his parents’ home, and now he felt even lonelier in the hospital. He just wanted someone to talk to, but parents had to work, work hard to cover his medical bill, so did his brothers… DMC was like the only person he felt he could confide in.

“C’mon, don’t worry bro, everything’s gonna be OK.” He said

Rogue looked at DMC, nary a word said. That mid-aged man seemed to have only one t-shirt to wear, an old white worn t-shirt with a “monkeyball” print on the chest which look so childish even high-school students wouldn’t wear it. His face was wrinkled, looked almost as old as dad’s but his eyes were so bright, like they were glimmering all the time.

Then, DMC broke the silence that had lasted 5 minutes or so, “Well, I know you’ve been experiencing something that’s beyond your ability to handle, and beyond my age to understand but, I guess it must be mental thing, right?

“Yeah, pretty much, yes” Rogue responded, his voice was so low like a whisper. For a moment Rogue was kind of tempted to tell him the whole thing, to tell him how great he felt that night with Scarlett, and how he had his “first time”… But he managed to keep his mouth closed. He didn’t even tell that to his parents, let alone this guy!

“OK, well. Everyone is en led to his own privacy. Hmm…” He paused for a moment, and continued, “I have a friend, a world-famed psychologist who had just returned to the US from Hong Kong, I think it would do you some good if you had a… talk with him”.

He tried not to use such words as “examine” or “check”, words that would’ve probably made Rogue feel he was mentally ill, or “insane”. He was maybe a bit delusional but not insane, he was well aware of the situation, and everything he was going through.

Rogue didn’t quite fancy that idea at first, he didn’t think there was any problem with his mental health, it just felt like a mysterious diseases that came out of nowhere and hit him hard. But Rogue didn’t want to let down the old man, so he nodded, slightly, and said “Sounds good, bro, so where and when is the talk taking place.”

“His name is Adrian Tong, guess you never heard of that name before.” DMC said, and they both laughed. Then he continued “Tong is an authority on psychology, he’s based in New York so… Like everyone of that caliber, he’s too busy to come over here to see you, so maybe you need to go to New York to see him.”

“You’re the only exception though, such a pro who has so much spare time to squander.” They laughed again.

Rogue didn’t believe any “doctor” could actually extricate him from this mysterious condition, but when DMC mentioned “New York”, he felt a little fight lighted in his head… ‘New York, isn’t that the hometown of my goddess?’ Rogue thought to himself.

Rogue didn’t care if Dr. Tong could cure his disease. Going to NY was the only thing he was thinking about at the moment, because he knew his “goddess” was born there and grew up there, though Rogue had never been there himself. There’re things that you would want to do before you die, and visiting NY was exactly that thing for Rogue, the only thing he was fantasizing about. He could die there, and get buried there, get decomposed then absorbed in the same ground his “goddess” grew up on.

[Rogue]

Chapter Four

Rogue accepted DMC’s proposal, gladly and gratefully. NYC felt just like Jerusalem to him, a holy city. Visiting it would be enough an excitement to him, not to say there would also be the possibility of meeting his “goddess” again since Scarlett usually resided in NY when not making films.

DMC never disappointed his young friend: his posts were always the funniest stuffs for Rogue to read on Spurstalk, and he never reneged on any promise or any bet, which was the biggest thing Rogue respected him for. Rogue aspired to being a truthful person, and DMC was just a person of that type Rogue believed. DMC wasn’t just a friend of Rogue’s, but also a role model to him, in some way.

“That’s really a good idea, it sounds like, to be honest…” Rogue said cheerfully, “And… Will you go along with me?”

“Of course I will, my friend, Dr Tong wouldn’t give a about you otherwise.” DMC replied briskly and preemptively. It might sound a bit rude, but it was so true. DMC was a truthful person, though sometimes he might be brutally honest and therefore such “brutality” might offend other posters every now and then. But Rogue was quite used to his style, and he appreciated it indeed. Just as the old Chinese saying goes: Medicine tastes bitter but it cures diseases. DMC was exactly that type of person who had a hard mouth, but a soft heart.

“Well, never mind my little bro.” DMC continued “and I know why you’re so happy, you just want to visit there, New York, which’s your goddess’s hometown…”

How did he know it all? Of course he did, Rogue had said that at least 8,000 times on spurstalk, if not 10,000 times, and DMC was also an active poster there, he posted there even more frequently than Rogue did so… How could Rogue not think of it? There indeed seemed to be something wrong with his head probably, something that clogged up his mind…

But DMC didn’t tell it to anyone in the real life. He kept it a secret for his young friend. Rogue opened up his big blue eyes looking at DMC straightly in his face, he was a bit shocked and scared at first, but after reading the big smile on DMC’s face, there was only peace and happiness left in his young mind. Rogue smiled back, DMC responded to him with a quick blink, but neither guy said anything… they didn’t need to.

DMC promised to take care of everything for their trip to NY. DMC was a man of his words, Rogue knew it and he also knew that this big brother was someone he could trust.

Rogue had never gone aboard a plane in the past 25yrs of his lifetime because, according to what he often said himself, he had aerophobia. Traveling by air was the most “dangerous” method of transportation, in Rogue’s opinion. But this time, he didn’t feel no fear at all, as if the old friend sitting next to him wore a tight blue suit under his white T-shirt, with a big “S” written on the blue suit and a red cloak draping over his back, someone that would rescue him from the fate of demise even if something went wrong within the plane.

Just a few hours later, the plane landed on the John F. Kennedy International Airport, from which they could catch the sketch of the city’s exquisite figure.

“What a HUGE city” Rogue sighed, emotionally, then asked “Have you ever been here before?”

“Been here a few times on business” DMC replied

“So you must know some places of interest here, right?”

“Sure, but it seems your health condition doesn’t permit you to tour all those places I’m afraid. Maybe another day, I promise”

Rogue felt a bit disappointed, but also awakened at the same time… He hadn’t slept well, hadn’t eaten well for so long, his condition wasn’t much better than an 80yr old, so maybe the hospital was the only right place for him to go to at this point of time.

DMC’s cell phone rang as soon as they stepped out of the airport, when Rogue already felt pretty tired and exhausted. DMC picked the phone, “Hi, yeah, thanks for the call, we just arrived and… where?” DMC looked around, then waved his arm, yelling “Hi here”.

Just a few seconds later, there came a brand-new black Cadillac which stopped right before DMC and Rogue. As the door opened, a man in dark grey suit plus a pare of sunglasses in the same color stepped out of the car, and spoke to DMC very gently and politely “Nice to meet you, Prof. Cobs, welcome to New York…”

[Rogue]

Chapter Five

DMC arranged everything in advance, everything was so well planned.

“Thank you so much, D.” Rogue said to DMC who was sitting next to him on the back seat, in grateful voice.

“Nothing much bro, I’m just affiliated with them colleges, almost all colleges in this country.” DMC said boastfully. He didn’t mean to brag about anything though, it was just his style.

Rogue was born and raised in Dallas, and oddly or not, he had never been anywhere 200 miles or further away from the DFW area. Dallas was also a big city in Rogue’s mind, but that was still not comparable to the size of NY. He saw buildings passing by on both ends of the road that the car was running along. The facades were so garish that a pair of sunglasses seemed like a necessary equipment for every driver,

About 20 minutes later the car arrived at the NewYork Presbyterian hospital, though the time felt much shorter to Rogue like he could never sit enough in that Cadillac which seemed even more spacious than the living room of his parents’ house. Or maybe he just feared hospital, which was an instinct of his.

But the building of this “hospital” didn’t look like one that he imagined in his mind, or anything he had seen before. It looked just like a school. It indeed was a school in some way. It was a school hospital affiliated with Cornell medical college. Rogue might not have heard about that hospital but the name “Cornell” had never escaped his ears.

He was generally regarded as a genius when he was in high school, not a good boy scout but not too far away either. He was always one of the top dogs in his class, despite not giving even half the efforts his classmates paid. He craved the admission from Yale or Harvard, which to Rogue were the only two schools worth being away from home for 4 or even more years. After being denied by both, Rogue decided to study in a local school, not as prestigious as Yale or Harvard but still belonging in the second tier, top 20 in the country maybe.

But his first impression of Cornell kind of made him regret that decision. The building alone was oozing a strong cultural charm that completely intrigued him, and it was only a medical branch of Cornell.

Rogue lived with his parents during his college years, which was good and bad in his opinion. The good part was he didn’t have to eat the ty food in the canteen 3 times a day, 7 days a week. Bad part was that he never really got into his school. He always felt he was just a guest, a passenger through all 4 years, and that was the main reason why he chose not to pursue a graduate degree in his alma mater.

Rogue really felt like living in there, not just because of his nostalgia for school, but more importantly, it was the hometown of Scarlett, his goddess. ‘My goddess was probably born just in this hospital’ Rogue thought to himself.

[Rogue]

Chapter Six

Rogue lived in the hospital, a cozy tiny room for himself, while DMC was given an apartment on the campus, also living by himself. There was only a narrow street between the campus and the hospital building so DMC could still visit his young friend everyday, just like he regularly did in Dallas. There was no internet access in the hospital room so DMC always brought a New York Times every time he went there, to let Rogue know the latest news & events happening in the world outside.

Then the appointed meeting came. It was a hot morning, typical of summer New York, though little could be sensed in the air-conditioned building. Dr. Tong arranged the brief meeting not only to see the young patient who traveled several hundred miles from Dallas, but also as an unofficial welcome to his old friend- Prof. DMC. Therefore, DMC would be attending the meeting together with Rogue.

DMC know he had to stay with him during the meeting… to make sure his young friend wouldn’t speak rudely towards Dr. Tong... Tong was an Asian immigrant, just as his name suggested, while Rogue hated the Asians in general, which DMC was well aware of as Rogue usually talked tons of trashes on Spurstalk against those posters who he thought were Asians, though sometimes Rogue could be totally wrong (like Jacob1983 who Rogue thought to be Asian but was later proven not). There was a story behind Rogue’s fanatical hatred against Asians…

There was a girl in high school that Rogue had a long-time crush on. She was probably the nicest one in his class, or even in the school maybe, at least in Rogue’s eyes she was. However, Rogue was a bit introvert back then, in fact he had always been kind of introvert before he came out as a Scarlett fan, maybe it was also an inborn habit of him to hide his real feelings deep in his heart.

There were other girls that flirted with Rogue, but she was the only one Rogue really had an affection for, and that was also the only time in Rogue’s life to ever fall in love before the Scarlett fever began. But unfortunately enough, Rogue’s love was hijacked by an Asian head… Maybe the girl was just not the right one for him in the first place, or maybe Rogue should’ve acted more aggressively and boldly… But nary change could be made to what had already happened.

It might also be a blessing in hide though… Rogue would’ve given his full heart to that girl instead of Scarlett, and the romantic story between him and Scarlett would’ve never happened… But he still hated that Asian punk, and he hated them all.

But Dr. Tong wasn’t like any Asian immigrant he knew before… He talked kindly and affably, though he still sounded a bit awkward with that Chinese accent. After DMC introduced Rogue and Tong to each other, the well-famed doctor sent his friendly greeting to the young patient. “Welcome to New York, Rogue. Hope you enjoy your time here, you and DMC, my friends.”

‘One’s ego shrivels as his knowledge grows’ Rogue thought to himself. Most immigrants that Rogue knew in his life were rather arrogant and stupid, with the almost identical type of dumbness, and Rogue didn’t like any of them. But Tong was such a kind person who made him feel so comfortable like his old NB shoes, someone he felt he could instantly make friend with.

“Hi ehh… thank you Mr. Tong. Glad to meet you here, thanks for everything.” Rogue didn’t really know what to say, but he had to respond anyway.

“Well, you know I and David (DMC) are friends for many years, and I really hope I can help you.” Tong paused a bit, then continued “You needn’t see me as a ‘doctor’, just a friend instead, just relax” Tong talked calmly and slowly to Rogue, maybe he was not very fluent in English, or he was just trying to hypnotizing Rogue.

Rogue really enjoyed that man’s voice, indeed. The voice didn’t sound beautiful at all, nothing comparable to his goddess’s unusual voice which sounded like a metallic instrument. But it made him relax. The voice was loosening every nerve in his body, one by one… Rogue tried not to close his eyes, but he still did, half conscious and half asleep. It didn’t take too long before his mental barriers were completely torn down by Dr. Tong, as he started to murmur something in his mouth, in such a low voice than could only barely be heard…

Rogue was unaware how much time had passed, an hour, two hours, or even longer… But when he woke up from the nap, he realized the time wasn’t that long, maybe half an hour at most. He tried to remember what he said, or what he was thinking about the past 30 minutes or so, but he couldn’t remember anything that was not related to Scarlett, his goddess.

“Well, everything you said while you were sleeping” DMC broke the silence first as usual “was about… you know who.”

“Yes, I know” Rogue replied, his face burning and blushed.

“C’mon. My bro…” DMC continued to say, “You don’t need to be so devoted to a woman, to be honest. A woman is just like… well, a life supporting system of the pussy. There’re finer girls out there everywhere, in the subway station or the fifth street, they’re everywhere, my friend.”

Rogue could hardly rebut what DMC just said. DMC’s words were always filled with truth, filled with the bitter truth.

[Rogue]

Chapter Seven

“Yes, I love her- my goddess very much, I love her to death but I promise you she’s not the cause to the physical discomfort, the stress or whatever you call it I’m currently suffering from.” Rogue said in response. He just couldn’t accept even the slightest criticism against his “goddess”, though he couldn’t agree more with DMC from the deepest part of his heart.

“So maybe you should stay a bit longer here in New York.” Said Dr Tong, “and we will observe you a bit longer to find out what the real problem is.”, which was exactly what Rogue desired to hear. Rogue wanted to stay in New York, maybe for the remainder of his lifetime no matter how long it was. It was Scarlett’s hometown, and he wouldn’t mind dying where his goddess was born some 29 years before.

After returning his room, however, Rogue couldn’t stop pondering DMC’s words… “A woman is just a life supporting system of her pussy”, DMC’s classic definition of a “woman” kept hovering around Rogue’s mind. Rogue couldn’t think of any concept or any fact to counter that, in fact, that was also what Rogue himself often thought of a woman as before he fell uncontrollably into the Scarlett obsession, though not in the exact words DMC used.

Rogue was at one time the most ardent misogynist on Spurstalk, true story. He hated females in general, who were even worse than terrorists in his mind probably. Sometimes you just couldn’t believe his at ude had been changed by 180 degrees, within such a short time span. He still hated women to some extent, but he always made Scarlett an exception… She was not a woman, perhaps not even a human being for Rogue… She was his “goddess”.

But DMC’s words had kind of beaten him back to reality. ‘She’s just a woman who, like every female, needs guy’s to please herself’, Rogue thought to himself, ‘She doesn’t want you to be gentle, she wants you to be animal…” He was still thinking, lying in his bed, head rested in the soft pillow, eyes motionlessly on the ceiling which was just as white as the bedspread and the curtains.

[Rogue]

Chapter Eight

Rogue’s room was peaceful and quiet just like the off-season Spurstalk, except the scarce laughter heard from the room when DMC was there, until that one day, just a few days after the meeting with Dr. Tong who was then abroad again for an academic seminar, a bunch of guys arrived at the hospital to see Rogue, almost beating the door down…

Rogue was dumbfounded seeing these, well, like a platoon of guys visiting him in the hospital. He didn’t have any “friends” in New York, as far as he could remember.

DMC opened his mouth, trying to explain the whole thing “Sorry my friend, ahh… I meant to give you a surprise, hope it doesn’t scare you bro.” He cleared his throat then went on to introduce these people to Rogue “Well, they’re all members of a local fan “Krew”, a Scarlett fan Krew to be exact.” He smiled a bit, like he was trying his best to not laugh aloud, then he continued… “So you know you’re not alone, buddy.” He said teasingly.

“What? A Scarlett fan Krew?” Rogue couldn’t believe it, nor did he want to believe it. Scarlett was the last person in the world he wanted to notify of the news that he was sick. He didn’t want to worry her about anything he was suffering from, big or small, he just wanted his “goddess” to be happy, all the time.

‘DMC must have told my goddess that I’m sick, he belongs to the higher social class so he has the ability to do so. Then here come the crowd…’ Rogue thought to himself. “Thank you D, my friend. But you know… I don’t want goddess to be concerned about me.”

“Goddess my freaking arse… It ain’t having nothing to do with your goddess, my friend” DMC said, with the pale laughter around his mouth. “They’re all my friends, and… your friends as well.”

“My friends?” Rogue was confused, “But I don’t think I have any friends here, as far as I know… I don’t have any friends outside the DFW area as far…”

Someone from the “crowd” interrupted Rogue, saying “You do have a lot of friends on Spurstalk though. We’re all of that same family .”

Rogue looked up at that guy, he was about 5’10 tall, round-faced and long-necked. His body wasn’t swole but still sturdy like the Stallone in Victory. His voice was low and husky, pretty much just like a male version of Scarlett’s.

“Hi, I’m Brian, that m>s guy on Spurstalk remember?” Of course Rogue remembered him. He was one of the posters that could hardly be forgotten, his unique posting style, his outstanding intelligence as well as his abundant knowledge in politics, sports, and movies… almost everything you could think of. Rogue and m>s had been good friends on Spurstalk since the beginning of time it seemed like. Most posters were convinced they were also good friends in the real life, but apparently they weren’t, weren’t before this day at least.

“Brian is now the president of Scarlett fan Krew” DMC added.

“Wow my ” Rogue shrieked aloud, he couldn’t believe he still had so much energy left in him to make such a strong sound, like he was re-energized and reinvigorated by the arrival of his “ ”. “Didn’t know you were also a Scarlett fan, my , you hided it so well, to be honest.”

“I’m not a Scarlett fan though, to be honest.” Brian said “they chose me for my leadership and managerial skills. My friend Mark used to hold this post, he was a die-hard Scarlett fan and he was also a good leader but…” A bit of grief flashed through his face quickly, but not quickly enough to escape Rogue’s hawk eyes... His voice was always low-pitched so Rogue didn’t know if he was sobbing or anything, but it was obvious he didn’t want to continue saying any more about his friend “Mark”, or he just couldn’t…

Another guy in the crowd, standing right next to Brian, picked up the stick then continued Brian’s unfinished introduction of his friend Mark, “Mark is… living in the dreamland now… He was a college teacher, with a Doctorate’s degree in Chinese literature or . He initiated and founded this krew in the first place and most of our members are his former students.” This guy looked a bit taller yet thinner than Brian, and he looked Hispanic which justified his fast talk.

“This is Irving, vice-chair of our Krew” Brian seemed to have recovered from the sudden sadness, then he continued to introduce that Irving guy to Rogue, and also to DMC, “He’s also a Spurstalker, that Shadowflames guy remember?”

“Oh Shadowflames” Rogue sighed. Rogue remembered that guy in no time, because Shadow was the first openly Scarlett fan on Spurstalk, and it was the Scarett avatar and sig that Shadow used that kindled the little fire in Rogue’s mind, which eventually evolved into the proliferating wildfire that was about to absorb him soon.

But DMC seemed to have a hard time remembering that guy. DMC posted there a lot but he rarely paid any attention to those “insignificant” posters, he only chose the most trolling-worthy ones to troll and to argue with. Brian and Rogue both had long existed on his trolling radar, but apparently it had never included “Shadowflames”. Though as serene a man as DMC was, he still managed to squeeze a smile out of his teeth and said “ o”.

[Budkin]

Excellent work Cully! You need to publish that.

[Rogue]

Chapter Nine

“It’s no wonder you’ve forgotten him though, DMC my bro.” Brian said, “Shadowflames hasn’t posted since… well, the Spurs’ bitter defeat in the playoffs earlier this summer… He’s a closet Spurs fan which’s open secret.”

“I’m just feeling bored of basketball for the moment I just wanna leave it for a whole.” Irving argued.

“Whatever you say bud” Brian interrupted Irving, then continued, “It’s not at all an embarrassment to be a fan of teams based outside of your hometown though, like, I’m a New Yorker but I’m a Mav fan.”

“Today’s Knicks are just kind of the counterfeit Mavs though.” Rogue countered him jokingly. He always had such an awesome sense of humor.

Everyone laughed loud in the room, “Now your best friend is dropping a nuclear truth bomb on you, just eat it my friend, you have no other options.” DMC teased him, and everyone laughed even harder, even including Brian himself.

The room was filled with laughter which could be heard even from the farthest end of the corridor, and that was rather weird in a… hospital. They were so happy in there they had almost forgotten they were in a hospital probably, and the whole building was kind of lit up by such happiness and joyfulness.

But suddenly, Rogue seemed to have thought of something… He folded up the smile on his face then said quite calmly and seriously to Brian, president of the Scarlett fan Krew, “Hey Brian ahh… I’m very grateful to you and DMC, all I want to say to you guys and everyone else here is ‘Thank you’, and I think I can’t say it enough. This is the happiest day for me since um… the Hitch premiere in Dallas that I attended together with Scarlett, our goddess, which was also my first time to ever meet her in person…”

Rogue hesitated for a moment, then he continued “But you know Brian, I don’t want our goddess to worry about me, or to worry about anything. I just want her to feel happy all the time, and her happiness is always the biggest pleasure to me.”

DMC replied to me before Brian could, “C’mon bro, it doesn’t have nothing to do with your ‘goddess’, I think I told you that when they first arrived didn’t I?” DMC paused for a few seconds, taking a deep full breath then continued, “You might think I was joking but I wasn’t. I private-messaged Brian telling him everything about you so he and his friends are coming here to visit their friend that you are. She wouldn’t even piss on you to save your life, my little friend. She doesn’t give a …”

Brian stopped DMC before he could make any further negative comments on Scarlett right in front of the “platoon” of Scarlett fans, “Ah… Yes, DMC is right. He’s 100% honest albeit sounding a bit brutal… Scarlett is busy all year round so she probably doesn’t have the luxury to care about every one of us, to be honest.” Brian said.

Rogue felt relieved to know that his goddess still had no idea that he was sick, and what delighted him more was that, he realized that he had so many friends who loved him and cared about him. Would he trade all these friends for Scarlett herself? Well, it would be a really tough choice for Rogue. At least for this moment, he didn’t want to lose any of them.

These people were just like the stars glittering in the dark sky of night. They could alleviate the loneliness through the quiet night, but when he woke up in the morning the next day, he would realize his goddess was still the unique one for him, just irreplaceable. He just couldn’t live without her. To him she was just like the sun in the sky, giving him warmth and light, and the energy for him to survive…

[DMC]

I'm not nearly as amicable as your story makes me out to be, but I am all knowing so you're just using artistic license.

[scroteface]

I'm not nearly as amicable as your story makes me out to be, but I am all knowing so you're just using artistic license.

sup

[Rogue]

Sup scrote, sup DMC

DMC bro you might sound a bit umm... aloof, haughty and self-oriented sometimes but I guess people who have received similar level of education as you have are mostly humble and kind-hearted in the real world. so MAYBE you're just acting bad in here.

Or maybe I just stole your name and used it on another person who's not at all same as you, not even by an ounce. Never mind though, I just described every spurstalker tilting towards the sublime end to make sure I wouldn't offend anyone.

[DMC]

Artistic license bro.

Sup scrote,

[Rogue]

Chapter Ten

Brian and Irving also started to come to the hospital seeing Rogue on a regular basis, especially Brian who came there almost everyday, before or after DMC, and sometimes even during DMC’s visit. But unlike DMC who could often stay there all day long, Brian’s visit was usually rather brief because he had a lot of work to do on his business. He was really busy, busy swindling money from his clients like every banker did. Brian wanted to get rich, as soon as possible so he would be able to run for a senator seat or something, or even the president someday, in order to save his country from the economic abyss that the “liberals” had entrapped this nation in, and Brian had made an au ious start as he already held a high position in a fortune 500 bank.

DMC and Brian were both conservatives so they had a common language to speak, and that was probably the main reason why they became good friends on Spurstalk, and now in the real life as well. Rogue was registered as an independent but his viewpoints were clearly tilted towards the right, under the influence of DMC and Brian maybe, in sheer contrast to his “goddess” who was also registered an independent but heavily left-biased, as you might have learned from the 2012 DNC where she made such an enthusiastic speech in support of Barack Obama. Her being a supporter of Obama and the democrats might be the only thing Rogue didn’t like about his “goddess”, to be honest.

Then one day, a few days after the “platoon” of SJ fans visited him, DMC arrived a bit earlier in Rogue’s room than he usually did, as if he was trying to ensure that he would arrive before Brian, bringing a big white plastic bag of something. The bag was not even translucent so Rogue couldn’t see through it, but the smell from inside of the bag suggested it might be some food, Chinese food most likely.

“Here’s… breakfast” DMC said.

“Thank you D… but you know, I don’t quite fancy Chinese food .”

“But this is from the restaurant that your ‘Goddess’ usually patronizes.” DMC said the word “Goddess” with emphasis. “Your goddess’s favorite dishes…”

Well, if there was another thing Rogue disliked about his goddess, besides her being a democrat supporter, it had to be her fetish for Chinese food.

“Well, thank you anyway.” Rogue thanked his old bro, but his voice delivered little sense of thankfulness, “And I ain’t gonna munch the whole myself, I mean that’s too much, you gotta take your share bro.”

“OK, no problem.” DMC consented, he had to.

As the two guys were enjoying their Chinese meal, DMC’s cell phone rang… Rogue’s cell phone service package only covered the DFW area, and he had already abandoned his phone, hadn’t used it at all since he arrived in NY.

“Ouch …” DMC muttered with his mouth half-full with food. He swallowed the down his throat as fast as he could, cleared his throat then answered the call.

“Hi ehh… good morning Ms Smith… Dude’s fine, he’s happy today like always… yeah, I’m right at Rogue’s place now…” He handed the phone to Rogue as he spoke, “This is for you. Your mom wants to speak with you.”

Rogue felt dazed at the moment. He had been so enjoying his time in NY he had almost forgotten his family back home, in Dallas. Rogue took the phone nervously, then carefully put it close to his ear “Hi mom, and… good morning.”

“Roguey, my honey. We’re really delighted you’re enjoying your time outside home, isn’t it like the longest time you’re away from home? We were concerned you would feel awkward living in a strange city, but thank god…” Ms Smith said emotionally and cheerfully.

NY ain’t a strange city to Rogue. It was the hometown of his goddess so it was also his hometown in some way.

“I’m OK mom, how’s you and dad and my bros?”

“They all good, son, just missing you bad… Do you need some money?”

“No, needn’t. DMC has it.” Rogue responded, shamelessly. He paused for a second, then continued, in a submissive voice with a guilty feeling, “Mom I’m so… sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“I should’ve made phone calls back home earlier. I’m ehh… just so sorry.”

“Doesn’t matter son, just enjoy your time there. DMC makes calls to us like twice a day basically, every morning and night, to inform us of your latest update.”

Rogue was dumbfounded at the moment, shocked, and overwhelmed by gratefulness, trying to blink back his tears. He searched DMC’s eyes with his own, and found them with ease. DMC’s eyes were so bright and also a bit teary, which were really hard to miss… Rogue handed the phone back to DMC, speechless. He was moved to tears, for the first time since the 2011 NBA finals when his “champion” Dirk lifted that damn trophy.

[scroteface]

Artistic license bro.

Sup scrote,

where you been what made you decide to welch

welcome back brah