So there are nowhere near enough Tropic Thunder stories on here, and I noticed that there aren't any for Tugg Speedman, and I felt bad for the poor guy lol, so I decided to show him some love and write a little something for him, plus Ben Stiller is super buff as Tugg, it's hot lol. This is set way before the movie btw, with Tugg in his early-mid 30s. And I'm thinking of writing a few more for him. So let me know what you think in a review :D
Disclaimer - I don't own anything from Tropic Thunder, god I wish I did though
He thought this was a good idea, seeing as he was tired of spending the majority of his nights at home, alone, and figuring that he could at least attempt to have even one night where he could feel close to someone. And now here he was; one hour into the night, sitting at the bar, alone. Yeah. Fan-fucking-tastic idea, Tugg.
The tavern was alive with raucous cheer, or every inch but the area in which he sat. Making him feel more alone than ever. What he would give to have someone, anyone, to share the glitz and the glamour, and the so called 'happiness' that came with his fame. Even better if it was a pretty little lady he could love, and who would love him in return. But for now, his only source of comfort was the full glass of scotch that sat in front of him. Probably not best for him to drink so much, but what's there to lose?
"I'll have two shots of bourbon." A strong, female voice suddenly broke his train of thought, and in the corner of his eye he could see a pair of jeans and a tight fitting shirt – though it could barely pass as a piece of clothing in his opinion; more like a bit of material tied at the back – showing the tattoo of a butterfly on the hip of the woman who threw back both shots of liquor almost immediately after receiving them.
"You know, alcohol works better when you drink it." It took him a moment to realise that she was speaking to him, and he turned his head to the left to get a proper look at the owner of the voice, an excitable looking woman with dark brown hair and ivory skin, and seeing her eyes widen in recognition during that one swift movement.
"Oh shit, you're Tugg Speedman!" She'd stopped herself from clapping her hands over her mouth, instead placing one across the bar and the other upon her chest.
"The one and only," he muttered, somewhat drunkenly, but no less intelligible, taking his poison and gulping it down. All the while witnessing her flustered gush.
"I don't want to come off as weird or anything but I might be your biggest fan. I mean, I've seen every one of your movies at least a hundred times." That came as a surprise, though he wasn't sure if it was more over the fact that a woman enjoyed his typical sort of movie, or that anyone was still willing to admit to being a fan of his.
"Well, as long as there's one." He put on a forced grin, to which the girl responded by slightly furrowing her brow and tilting her head inquisitively.
"Are you okay?"
Tugg blinked once, taking a second or so to wonder whether she was sincerely concerned for him. Or if it was just the alcohol playing with his mind. But he soon shook the thought and nodded quickly.
"Yeah...just thinking."
She lifted a corner of her mouth into a small encouraging smile and sat on the barstool beside him. "You wanna talk about it?"
He cocked his head to the side, thinking whether or not he should tell her, she seemed nice, a little louder and more outgoing than he was used to, but nice. So he did. He told her everything that had been running through his head, with a number of drinks in between. He shared every worry that plagued him. Every little bit of it.
Even the frustration that he hadn't had any sort of sexual interaction in a considerable amount of time.
And she listened, even when it seemed like he might begin to bore her at points, although he wasn't sure if she would still be interested in his story, or him for that matter, if she hadn't known who he was. Of course he wasn't complaining; she was a definite knockout.
As he was getting nearer to the end, it felt as though an enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders. And then they were silent for a short while, as a smirk rose to her lips.
"You wanna know what I think?"
A light laugh escaped from him as he watched her intently, curious about what she was now thinking of him, "Sure."
"You need to go out and have some fun. And stop worrying about what other think. To hell with them." At that he smiled, even going so far as to flash a few of his teeth, and for the first time in years it was genuine, with no hint of a lie on his face. He liked this girl he decided, he certainly wouldn't complain about getting to know her.
"We were not put on this earth to work and breed and die, we were made to have fun."
"- -What's your name?"
The question seemed to catch her off guard, but soon the slight shock was replaced by a pretty smile, as if he had just paid her some wonderful compliment. "Amber."
She cocked an eyebrow, and once again a smirk appeared upon her features, "You know, I've always thought you were sexy...and I've had a big crush on you since I was thirteen." Tugg choked at the mention of this – on what he didn't know – making the woman, Amber, giggle. It was enough of a struggle to keep himself from screwing her senseless against the bar without knowing she was attracted to him.
"That's, fascinating..." he gulped, willing himself not to look as she bent over to reach behind the bar for a pen and napkin, after turning to look over at the door briefly. Having followed her gaze he'd seen two more women who looked around her age; a blonde and a black haired woman; seeming to be begging her to leave.
"You're friends?"
"Yeah, uh, I've gotta go. But there's my number..." Amber slid the paper toward him, and, picking it up, he was careful not to touch the light pink lipgloss where she had left a kiss. And then with a wink she stood, "Give me a call sometime, handsome."
