“In all the years i’ve known you... As in all our lives... You have always had a stock of something alcoholic.” Adrian grumbled.

“Yeah, then someone ripped off the stash I had in the basement. I told you I haven’t been home in ages.. No time to shop. Which is why all the food in there is moldy.” Jalie replied. Adrian surfaced with a half green piece of cheese in his hand.

“That would explain why it tastes like penicillin.” he said, sitting down. “We need to get the hell out of here. Nobody’s coming over until later anyway.”

Jalie took a swig of the wine and passed it over to him.

“It tastes like fucking vinegar.” she muttered as she pushed her chair back. She headed to the counter and grabbed her keys. “Let’s go.”

.Dos.

Outside of a local cafe, Jalie is seated on the curb. A six foot Latino blind man is preparing to cross the street as a police cruiser approaches.

“Uhh...” he stutters, looking wary and taking a step back onto the curb.

“I said the first car. Chickenshit.” Jalie orders.

He steps back out onto the curb, timing his walk so that the moment he gets to the center, the police cruiser smacks into him, sending him rolling up and over the hood. Immediately the driver climbs out, calling for an ambulance on his walkie talkie and running to check on the victim. The blind man, however, has disappeared. As the cop turns around, the door to his cruiser slams shut and the car speeds off. Jalie turns a few corners, before finally slowing down in front of a Del Taco. Adrian tosses aside his sunglasses and cane and climbs in the passengers side.

“I haven’t been that scared since you were chasing me with that ice-pick when we were twelve.” Adrian said. Jalie smiled at the memory and pulled away from the curb. Adrian grabbed the radio and let out a high pitched giggle.

“We have a two-eleven on seventy seven right by Seven Eleven i’m gonna need some back-up.” He said, lowering his voice. He released the button and snickered. Jalie looked at him as if he were an idiot.

“Very mature. Jackass.” she muttered.

She turned off onto the highway as Adrian pointed out his favorite fast-food restaurants, repeatedly asking to stop and getting turned down. Jalie glanced left as a renovated Corvette ran a red light and sped past them. She leaned forward and began pressing buttons, blasting the radio, an audio book on battling self loathing due to homosexual tendencies, and finally the siren. She cut off a mini-van and sped after the corvette. She grabbed the mic and spoke.

“Pull the car over before I go Rodney King on your ass, motherfucker.” she demanded. The car eased to the curb and she stopped behind it, scraping the front bumper against the corvette’s tail-lights.

“Toss the keys out the window and um... Get out. And put your hands on your head, too.” she ordered.

The driver slowly got out of the vehicle, placing his hands on it without any instructions. Adrian and Jalie both climbed out. Jalie walked over to the driver and stared at him, contemplating her next move.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve been pulled over, is it?” she asked. The driver shook his head no. “Okay. So what did they do last time?” she questioned.

“He asked for my license and registration... Then we talked for a while and he liked the car, so he let me off with a warning.” the driver explained.

Jalie frowned. “Well, I hate your car. I think they should all be tossed for scrap metal to make something decent, as in a Roadrunner, GTO, Charger, Chevelle, etcetera. Then again, maybe i’m just biased. But don’t bother arguing with me because I will find a way to make you do time. Gimme your wallet.”

The driver slowly reached into his pocket and handed it to her. She opened it and took out the wad of cash, shoving it into her own pocket.

“My partner and I...” she stopped, glancing around for her brown counterpart. “Adrian!”

His head popped up from the other side of the car. In his left hand was one of the car’s hubcaps. In his right hand was the teenage daughter of the driver who had apparently been in the passengers side.

“What are you doing? Put that back, you don’t know where it’s been.” Jalie said. Adrian frowned and began placing the hubcap back on the car. He glanced at the girl and then back at Jalie.

“Are there cuffs in the cruiser?” he asked. Jalie picked up a rock and tossed it at his head.

“I don’t know. You’re not keeping her, anyway. We have enough stray dogs at home.” she said.

Adrian grumbled, opening the door to the car and allowing her to get in. He slammed the door and picked up his hubcap, before heading to the front tire and kneeling to get the next one. Jalie pulled the driver to his feet and allowed him to get back into the car. Adrian stood up with the second hubcap and walked over to her. As the car pulled away, the two of them ditched the cop car and headed into the parking lot beside them.

“I left my car here last week.” Adrian explained.

They headed across the lot until Adrian stopped at an old Volkswagen bus. He pulled his keys from his pocket and pulled the door open, leaning over and unlocking the side door. Jalie climbed in the back as he started the van. The rear bumper and the sides were decorated with an assortment of band stickers, environmentalist quotes, and the occasional rust spot whilst the inside looked more like a medieval weaponry. Past the ice chest was a small foam mattress, layered with pillows and old blankets that smelled like wet dog. As he pulled out of the lot, battle axes, daggers, and short swords rattled on the walls. Jalie looked uneasy, and scooted as far from the weapons as possible. Adrian suddenly veered left and a small crash sent one of the daggers flying off the wall to stick in the cushion directly beside Jalie. She gazed at it, wide-eyed as a stream of cursing came from the front seat.

“That bastard cut me off! He’s gonna die!” he shrieked. Jalie climbed up into the front seat. “Hey, watch the vinyl.” Adrian ordered. He eased on the gas and pulled into a Del Taco parking lot. As he turned off the engine, he glanced at the drive through and spotted the vehicle that smashed his headlight just a moment ago. He climbed out of the van, closely followed by Jalie, and approached the car. Jalie walked in front of the drivers side window, looking up and down the menu as Adrian leaned inside the window to greet the driver.

“Welcome to Del Taco, can I take your order?” the speakerbox roared to life as Jalie giggled with delight.

“You guys still have Choco Tacos?” she asked. The cashier replied with a ‘yes’, which caused Jalie’s grin to grow even wider. Meanwhile, Adrian grabbed the driver’s head and began slamming it into the dashboard, right beside a small statue of the Virgin Mary.

“Repent, motherfucker!” he shouted.

“I’ll have two Choco Taco’s.. er.. Make it four. No, six. Two orders of fries... And make ‘em crispy. You guys always make soggy ass fries and it pisses me off.” Jalie said. She continued to peruse the menu as Adrian was pulled inside the car through the window. The driver began slamming Adrian’s head into the opposite window.

“Three green burritos, two red ones... Um... A macho burrito...” Jalie continued.

Adrian had now wrenched the virgin mary statue off the dash, and was beating the driver in the head with it.

“Nachos, too. And lot’s of hot sauce. Because whenever I ask for sauce it’s always like two measly packets, and that pisses me off too. So gimme like, ten packets of hot sauce. Do you guys have a taco salad anymore?” she asked.

Finally Adrian climbed out of the car. The driver was unconscious, leaning against the steering wheel.

“Will that be everything for you?” the cashier asked.

“Eh.. And a diet Coke.” Jalie finished.

“Alright, that’ll be twenty-five sixty two at the next window.” the cashier explained. Jalie glanced at Adrian.

“Can I borrow thirty bucks?” she asked. He sighed, digging out his wallet as the scene faded.

.[Violence].

Layton Matthews.

You are one conflicted little man. Your view on women is quite interesting. Not interesting as in thoughtful, or intelligent, or even vaguely humorous. But interesting in the fact that you focus on the flaws in the female specimen do deflect attention from your own. You see yourself as perfect. Hell, that’s fine. Whatever hardens your nipples. However I must disagree. Because, to be quite frank, you are a massive tool. Not just a tool, a massive fucking tool. Honestly buddy, the frosted hair went out with Justin Timberlake. You are the kind of tool that makes people stop what they’re doing merely to point you out to their friends, and then proceed to throw random objects at your head. How do you live with yourself?

But getting back to your speech... Apparently I am to represent everything about women that you despise. Funny, seeing as I am nothing like any of the examples you spouted off previously. If a guy slaps some diamonds on me and gives me his last name, that doesn’t mean i’m going to change. I am merely me; and however bitchy or fucked up I seem, I assure you I was just the same before I got married. You, however, don’t seem to care. Not that it matters. Whether you view me as a formidable opponent, a good for nothing whore, a respectable person, or another stepping stone on your way to stardom... It doesn’t change the fact that no matter what you happen to think, I am what I am. I’m fearless, i’m a bitch, i’m politically incorrect, cocky, and I am never going to change. There’s a reason I was placed in the world title match at Guilty as Charged, Layton. There’s a reason you weren’t. Simple, eh?

Kind of like a slap in the face when they stick you up against a world title contendor. You know what it is, right? You’re fodder. You’re being led to slaughter so I can get a little air time before the pay per view. They needed some random guy who wasn’t even near world title status to toss in the ring with me. And, unfortunately for you, your name came up. Plus, there is the fact that you and Allisa will be facing my husband and Cody for the tag titles. And yes, I realize they have yet to go through Mad Dogg and Dirk Phoenix but... Let’s be realistic, shall we? Dirk has improved, but not to that extent. And Mad Dogg has about as much talent and pull around here as... Well, you Layton. Now don’t get me wrong, i’m not ruling you and Allisa out for the tag titles. And the only reason i’m not is because of your partner. Allisa is an accomplished woman who knows what she’s doing, i’ll give her that. I don’t have anything against her - just the pity that she’s got you in her corner.

So now is the time to sit back, and accept your position. There’s nothing you can do about it.

Fin.