My God! It's a red Camaro with two nineteen year-old girls in it! They're "laying rubber" all over the garage level! Whoops, there goes a waiter with a tray! CRASH!
Those two girls seem to be totally shitfaced! Behind the wheel is a blonde, and on the passenger side is a brunette. Both are pretty, although they're both husky enough to make Jennifer Love Hewitt look anorexic. Come to think of it, that would apply to MOST women. . . .
Oh, well. They seem to have parked the car now. Sideways. Across three handicapped spaces. They seem to be making their way to the east elevator back. Bad luck for us all. If only it had been the WESTERN elevators, there might've been some damage control. As it is, they're headed for the elevator that goes right up to the Olde Wizard's Bar and Grill. This may be trouble. . . .
"Out of the way!" says the brunette, to a garage attendant who had the bad luck to stray into the girls' path.
"Yeah, out of the way, you dork!" giggles the blonde, who is holding a bottle of tequila. (It's expensive El Tesoro de Don Felipe Paradiso tequila, by the way.)
The two girls enter the elevator and go up two floors to the Concourse. They exit the elevators, both sets of eyes totally glassy. The first person they encounter is a man, totally naked except for two black bowler hats. One is on his head, the other is on a cord, worn in the same place that the cup of a jock-strap would be on a jock-strap. When they see him, both girls dissolve into hysterics.
"Who are YOU supposed to be?" the blonde demands.
The man tips his hat (the one on his head). "I am known as 'The Bowler Fucker!" Both girls break out in additional laughter at this. "And who are you?"
"I'm Jenna," says the blonde, taking a shot of tequila.
"I'm Barbara," says the brunette. "Where are we, anyway? This doesn't look like the Four Seasons! We were on our way to the Four Seasons to have a cocktail! Dad always when to the Four Seasons to drink when he was--"
"SHHHHHH! SHHHHH!" said the blonde, in a stage whisper. "QUIET! We're supposed to be in-COG-nit . . . in-COG-nit . . . We're supposed to be in disguise!" The brunette instantly calmed down and tried to look casual.
"This is the Backstage Concourse," replied The Bowler Fucker. "At the far end is Hilbert's Hotel--"
"--See, I TOLD you this was a hotel!" said the brunette, loudly and drunkenly to the blonde.
"I always said these Auston freeways were badly marked," said the blonde.
"--Anyway, down at THIS end, there's the Olde Wizard's Bar and Grill--"
"That's what we want, a bar!" said the blonde drunkenly. She held up a driver's license. "I'm Jenna . . . Jenna--" (The blonde looked at the picture on the front of the license and concentrated.) "-- Jenna, um, Jameson, yeah, that's it--" The picture on the blonde's ID didn't look anything like her, although it DID look like the REAL Jenna Jameson.
The brunette held up her own "license." "I'm Barbara--"
"--Streisand!" shouted the blonde, giggling and staggering.
"No, no, I'm Barbara Gordon," the brunette slurred. She pointed awkwardly to the name on the license. "See? Barbara Gordon! Not famous at all, nope. Just want a little drrrrrinkie!" The brunette staggered off in the direction of the Bar and Grill.
The Bowler Fucker tipped his hat and walked nobly off, his naked ass visible to everyone near the elevators. The blonde wrapped herself around a cement column at the sight of this, laughing loudly and pointing. Then she went off to find the other girl.
The other girl was already at the bar when the blonde joined her. "Order me a margarita, I have to go pee," said the brunette, staggering off toward the ladies room. The Olde Wizard approached, leering at the blonde. "Good evening, my dear. How may I serve you?"
"Bring us two of what ever's going," said the blonde. "Oh, and my sist-, my friend wants a frozen margarita!"
"Coming *snicker* right up, miss," said the Olde Wizard. . . . "But first, how about a free shot? On the house!"
Wed Jun 6 14:03:18 2001