Nah, you're an arrogant fuckwad.

Strolling back to the bar like a G.

You spotted Taylor and James tits-deep in a throng of thirsty thots.

Of course this wasn’t going to hamper your victory.

But as any clubber can attest to getting a busy bartender’s attention is tougher than finding the fountain of youth.

Especially without tits.

Btw it’s 29.907136981310043, -81.31487350435623 if you’re looking.

Wait tits! That’s it! You genius!

Uhh…alright you lost me.

What’s better than tits?

I’ve been advised by our lawyers to say nothing…But.

Exactly butts!

Blink. Blink.

What do butts wear?

Yoga pants?

Well…yes but underneath that

Nooothing?

If only.

Hint hint nudge nudge ladies.

Oh! Underwear!

Exactly!

Sneaky devil! I get it.

For this to work you needed the perfect position. Mapping the terrain. You spotted the perfect sniper’s nest. Elevated. Excellent distance from the bar. Clear line of sight.

Crawling through the thicket of thots you stealthily maneuvered into position. James wholly unaware of the silent **** encroaching on him.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

So much waiting for that singular instant when the perfect shot appeared.

Still waiting.

More waiting.

Still more waiting?

Now!

James skated a white peach & gin fizz across the bar to a bearded hipster then stopped for a moment catching his breath.

Extracting Renee’s panties from your pocket.

You wedged both thumbs in the waistband.

Pulled back.

The lace barely withstanding the tension of the draw.

Closing your right eye, you took aim.

James still ignorant to the **** about to rain down upon him.

Inhaling, you finalized the shot.

And on the exhale let red-hot lace rain.

Phing

You waited for the kill.

The panties sailing through the air like a majestic bald eagle.

Pass the crowd.

Pass the bar.

Pass James.

Wait what.

It was in that moment you realized why Brie never let you have a Daisy Red Ryder air rifle.

The supersonic panties skirted by James and nailed Taylor square in the face.

Shit.

The pair witnessing the shot.

Scanned the horizon for the shooter.

In that moment you realized the ghillie suit may have been a mistake.

Cover blown. You tried to escape but the thicket of thots had dispersed leaving you very open to enemy fire.

Know how in the movies and TV, they have that special sugar glass. The kind you can bonk someone over the head with and no harm done.

Well it just so happens…

We didn’t have the budget for that.

Wait. What!

I suggest you duck.

And duck you did.

Fortunately the wind was off and the Tito’s bottle Taylor tossed fell just short.

Unfortunately the shattering glass provided a long enough distraction for Taylor to hop the bar (Damn HS track team) and wedge you into an atomic noogie.

Shaking it up, I see.

“Oi! Lass kill him if you want. But don’t waste the booze!”

“Say aunt! Say aunt!”

Taylor screamed tightening the hold.

“Ugh! Why are you so sweaty!?”

“Say aunt!”

“Natasha! Olivia!”

You shouted the names of the rest of your aunts and even a few cousins before you felt a familiar fabric fill your mouth.

Released from Taylor’s clutches you yanked the undies out for the second time tonight.

“Ha! Jokes on you I’ve already eaten these!”

You gloated doing a little jig.

Taylor shuddered.

“Why the fuck did you throw used panties at me!”

“Why are you so sweaty!?”

“…Also they were for James.”

James immune to you and your sister’s antics had already returned to tending the bar.

However sensing the disturbance in the **** spun to face you both.

“No fucking way!”

James shouted hopping the bar.

Because fuck using the bridge apparently.

Snatching the undies, he ferried them to his nose and inhaled deeply.

As is tradition.

…Perverted tradition.

“They’re legit.”

“Gross. I’m gonna go bath in hand sanitizer. Then drink till I can’t remember either of you fuck-wads.”

“If a lifetime of drinking hasn’t accomplished that yet! I doubt one more night will change that!”

“Rail only lass! Nothing top-shelf!”

She rightfully gave you both the finger and sauntered off.

“Alright now that the sourpuss is gone. How’d you do lad!? I saw you take one to the chin from the lass in black. C’mon tell me. How’d you manage to snag her knickers after that!?”

You could lie to James and claim the panties were Liz’s.

Or you could tell him the truth and explain how they were Renee’s.

James was one of your closest friends and the thought of lying to him broke your heart.

Because the truth would hurt him so much more.

Evil grin.

“I didn’t. They belong to your redhead.”

With that sentence James’ head exploded.

Real mess. Blood, chunks of brain everywhere. Real sad.

“Fucking Legen…”

……

…..

….

…

..

.

Wait for it.

“dary!”

No thanks I’m lactose-intolerant.

You stood there and reveled in your glory while James continued to worship your prowess.

But like any good friend you couldn’t let him off the hook that easy.

“So Taylor, Joanne, and Beth get Saturday off.”

“Meh. Worth it!”

He added giving the undies another whiff.

“These are going straight onto the wall!”

James shouted heading for his office.

Shaking your head. You checked the time.

And you were an hour late for the move.

Barreling through the bar. You made a mad dash for the car.

Brie is going to kill you.

I know! That’s what the running is for!

…He’s dead guys.