“Oh, yes, I would,” the first voice says. “I’d punish them within an inch of their life.” You doubt it’s how they mean it, but the way the person’s talking, you’re getting a little… excited. “Punish me, then!”, you say as you lift yourself out of the bin. A few pairs of female eyes whip in your direction almost at the exact same time.
“Now, who do you think you are?”, a blonde one asks, approaching you. “Uh… I... I’m… Uh…,” you stutter. “He thinks he’s Kobe Bryant,” one of the other girls says. You wonder where that came from, until you look down at the jersey you’d thrown on as a way to get by some security. “I doubt that,” the blonde says. “Probably just another plain, old fan.” She turns to you. “Is that right? Are you a Laker fan?”, she asks.
You’re really more of a Kings guy, but why say that in front of the Lakers’ paid cheerleaders? You simply nod. “What about the Laker Girls? You like us?”, she asks. No lying here; You nod repeatedly. “Well, then, I’ll give you a choice,” she says. “I’m required by the Laker Laws to turn you in to security…. Unless you let me get a bounce or two with your balls.” |