Scotty Got A Quest! Part: 1

Drat. It was another day at work, being in a rigged wet
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T-shirt contest. The money in it was fantastic, though as I was getting soaked by water and the screams of the ladies, which were probably in fear or pleasure, really I can't tell the difference, is it all worth it to see a gay mobster, who rigged the game, give me the eye? Thankfully, before the mobster was going to ask me out while having his finger on the trigger, I got pulled away from my co-worker. He was a tall, well built bronzed man who happens to have a bachelor's degree in poetry. He's still jealous over my very attractive rib cage, & couldn't get over the fact that chicks dig men who excel in web design. Plus one of his nipples are a little bigger than the other, so he's kind of a freak.

Anyways, he told that there was a woman out in front wanting to see me. "Well, if she wanted to see me, she has to pay the fee, but it's too late now, my show is over, and we have to evacuate the building to sterilize it for my athletes foot is turning into an epidemic." I said, as I shamelessly shaken off all the water from my body in slow-mo. "No no, she says she has an urgent message for you. High importance, regarding national security." He was pulling my leg at this point, which is bad, but just plain evil if that leg was a prosthetic. "Hey" I said, "Is this because you think I photoshopped my face on your body, & posted on Facebook? Dude, really. Get over it, that was my body during my gym days. If it'll make you happy, I'll photoshop your face next to mine, so we'll have the same body, & split the compliments from the fat chicks 50/50." He sighed, and started pulling me towards the front of the establishment.

I was dragging my heels in retaliation, but all I was doing was ruining the shoes. "Steel toe, but not steel heeled. Didn't the Taiwan sweat shop kids learn how Scooby and the gang stop from sprinting? I blame the economy!" The lady, and the co-worker just stared blankly at me as I was saying this out loud. I returned the gesture as any gentleman would by staring blankly back with my mouth open. "This is him?" she said, obviously oblivious to my fame that I possess in 'Choco-holic anonymous.' "Yes, it is I." I started to auto-graph my signature on her fore-head. I turned to my co-worker, & stated "You'll soon find a woman. Though this one is mine. I don't see *your* name on it!" He shook his head, & started to walk away. She smiled at him, & waved warmly, obviously mocking him with a 'Good-bye forever, loser.' gesture. I smugly proclaimed, "He's kind of socially awkward, but he'll soon learn. I keep forgetting his name. I think it was Ryan Gosling, or Dryen Dung-fling. Whatever, he'll just wander around the streets for a few hours. Now back to us."

She looked at me with a raised eye-brow. "You're a little short." she said. "Short on time? Very. Busy being smexy, you know?" She stared away "Right. Well, as I was saying, we have a problem. British troops bent on revenge since the revolutionary days, genetically combined nazi-terrorists, Indians who want their land back, and old man Jenkins, has joined forces and called their group the IRS, and has finally decided to initiate their nefarious schemes upon the world." I blinked. "Will I get a lunch break from all this?"

TO BE CONTINUED . . . GAWW, I'M SORRY