Don Non

Your mind raced attempting to engineer some sort of sabotage to preserve your pride.

Pride? Really?

Fine to preserve your hundred bucks.

But you had nothing.

The only plan you could come up with involved a grapefruit, twelve-hundred toucans, ten or so VR headsets and an Abrams tank.

But where would you find a grapefruit at this hour.

Checking in on James you instantaneously knew you were in bad shape. His hands gestured wildly as he recounted some ridiculous story laughing the whole time; while the redhead hung on his every word, eyes locked on him with a sniper’s accuracy. She mimicked every boisterous laugh with a shrill snicker and every causal touch with one of her own. James egged on by his own success, closed the gap between them and began to speak into her ear under the guise of the raucous riot raised by the bars’ well-behaved and well-mannered cliental.

You at this point had dug your nails so deep into the counter that it would take King Arthur to free them.

All that bastard had to do was seal the deal and you were toast.

“Dear Dark Lord Santa, I know you’re busy ruling hell but I’ve been a very naughty boy this year so if you could grant me this one wish…”

What I thought I’d try my chances with another Dark Lord since Cthulhu worked sooo well last time.

What do you mean I want Satan not Santa?

Nah, everyone knows Santa is in charge of hell. He rules over those sinners with an iron cookie-filled fist. His faithful dark elf servants torturing the poor souls for all eternity. Impaling them on reindeer antlers, stuffing them into stockings, roasting them over an open flame.

Look we don’t have time for this tangent. We have cookies and milk to sacrifice.

Whilst you were distracted James decided now was the most opportune time to go in for the kill shot. Leaning in he went straight for a kiss.

But luckily Santa believed you were naughty boy this year.

Eyes glued to the scene, you were delighted to see the redhead’s hand rise up and POW!

Right in the kisser.

She soaked him with the leftovers of her glass.

What you were expecting a punch? Haha that kind of **** would never be allowed on American television.

...

Handedly defeated by the mighty highball glass James sulked his way back to the bar.

“Not a fucking word lad!”

He exclaimed toweling himself off.

Of course you said words.

“I’m pretty sure you were supposed to soak her panties not your own.”

“Har fucking har! Like you’d do any better.”

You being quite popular in Las Vegas liked those odds.

“Alright double or nothing.”

Tossing the towel aside he looked at you incredulously.

“You serious?”

“Yup, same rules but if I win Beth, Joanne, and Taylor all have Saturday off.”

“Oh, you’re a right cunt. Fine. But you have to bag a broad, kiss don’t count.”

Already riding high off the success of Leah, Haley, and Brenda you were confident.

Fuck yeah lady killer you got this shit.

Psst I don’t actually believe you can do it :)

“Deal.”

Again you found yourself staring down at the bar’s patrons.

May the odds be ever in your favor Katniss Everdeen.

Scanning the room you saw plenty of potential targets but opting for more of challenge you waited for someone who met all your prerequisites.

Prerequisites?

You mean female right?

Because I’ve seen your internet browser history. You don’t exactly have high standards.

I still don’t understand the nekomimi thing.

Hey! Don’t you ignore me!

Explain the cat girls!

Hey! Explain the cat girls!

Ignoring the cat girl question, you laid eyes on the purfect girl.

10/10 qt.

Draped in all black and paler than Siouxsie and the Banshees.

She hovered on the edge of dance floor wearing a begrudging grin as she watched her friends dance their hearts out.

A Nick and Nora glass dangled daintily from her hand. In it a cloudy yellowish mixture with three black olives speared by a silver cocktail pick. Tapping her pointed black nails against the glass, she raised it to her lips and took a shallow sip. Her blue-green eyes mimicked you and slowly scanned the room, seemingly searching for something as well. As she passed over you without a flicker of emotion your confidence wavered.

Perhaps it’d be prudent to ditch the dark soul’s difficulty level and gun for roblox-class girls instead.

Pondering the options, you saw the Goth girl’s friends grab her by the wrist and absorb her into their dance circle.