Just a little...

Hmm… It might be okay. Obviously you can’t get drunk since you have your gym battle after this, but one should be okay. “Just one bottle,” you reply sternly.

“Oh they don’t serve by the bottle here, it’s by the mug,” she says. Oh.

“Th-then… We can share one, but you better watch me, okay? I can’t get drunk before my battle.”

Samantha holds her fist to her heart as she declares, “You can count on me!” She can be pretty pushy at times, but deep down, Samantha’s a good friend and you’re lucky to have her.

“I love you Shamantha,” you slur. And why wouldn’t you love her? She’s the best friend ever!

Several mugs sit to the side of the table, most of them polished off by none other than yourself. Sam sits across from you, slowly sipping on the same mug she’s had for a while now. Geez, she’s such a lightweight.

“Love you too, Em. Say…” Samantha points at some random guy in a booth in the back corner. “I bet you can’t beat that guy in arm wrestling.”

Well that’s pretty dumb of her to think. You can obviously beat him because you’re currently unstoppable. “And what do I get if I win WAIT WAIT no, shorry, what do I get WHEN I win?” Got ‘em.

Samantha giggles. “I’ll pay you back the $60 for the dress and I’ll take you out somewhere that has the frumpy old clothes you always wear. I’ll even help you pick something out.”

Money and non-slutty clothes? “Done!” You’re on your feet in an instant, confidently striding over to the poor man who doesn’t know what’s about to hit him. That is, until some invisible **** sabotages your legs. You abruptly plummet to the ground headfirst, landing with a thud. A very rude man sitting nearby howls with laughter and starts raining slaps against your ass, making you aware that your unreasonably short dress is failing to cover your “SLUT” panties.

Your eyes cross at the sudden mistreatment, and you wave your hands behind you trying to stop the man’s attack. How dare he!? Why isn’t he helping you to your feet like a gentleman? Chivalry is dead!

It’s only after Samantha intervenes that you’re saved. Best friend ever, Samantha rocks! She helps you to your feet and lets you balance yourself on her. Not that you need it but, you know, just in case.

Making it to your destination, you slam your hands down on the man’s table like the **** to be reckoned with that you are. “ARM WRESTLE,” you proclaim. The man looks up at you, startled, and then his eyes wander down to the eyeful of cleavage you’re giving him by leaning over. Hehehe… Falling for your charms already, is he? This bet is already as good as won. Maybe this dress isn’t so bad after all.

“Had a bit too much to drink, I think. Might want to take her home,” he directs at Samantha. She leans in to whisper something in his ear, and his mouth curls into a smile. “You want to arm wrestle then? Go on, sit down.”

You happily do so, eager to kick this guy’s ass like a badass, because you are a badass, you’re Emilia the Badass and this guy won’t forget it anytime soon. After silently contemplating your badassery for a few seconds, you notice the man’s gaze is glued to your chest, and looking down, you see that your boobs have popped out of your dress and sit bare for the man to stare at. A luxury he’s taking full advantage of... When did that happen!? You quickly stuff your troublesome tits back into your dress, grumbling the whole time about how no one knows how to make clothes for big boobed girls.

“So if you win, your friend is paying you or something,” the man states. You nod. “But if I win, you’re going to suck my dick under the table. Sound about right?” You look at Samantha and she winks. Raising the stakes must be her idea to get you to drop out so she doesn’t have to pay you. You don’t even have to think about it though, because you’re not going to lose. You’re invincible. “You’re on!”