Wake up in the morning feeling like P diddy,
Put my glasses on, I'm out the door,
I'm gonna hit this city,
Before I leave, brush my teeth with a bottle of jack,
Cause when I leave for the night, I ain't coming back.

Dante wakes up and realises he has been drooling on the place where Lady usually shoulders his mouth closed. His eyes hurt and for the love of all that's holy, if the thudding in his head dosen't stop, he is going to blow his own brains out.

Not that it will help, of course.

He rolls over, groaning, and covers his eyes with his fore arm. Now usually, Dante can deal with hangovers. He deals with them very well. After years of waking up half dead from injuries and exhaustion, it seems a little on the lesser side of life.

But holy fuck his head hurts today.

And the best way to avoid a hangover? Stay drunk.

Dante rolls out of bed, tromping past Lady's room. She moved back in there after he had a little too many bumps to the head and confessed his undying love to her. He knew she would freak. And she did.

That was the first night in three years that she slept in the room she claimed in the first place.

Dante found his bottle of Jack and drained half of it in a single gulp. That numbed the pain in his head, but not the pain in his heart. Tonight, he planned to fight until there was a reason for his heart to hurt. Maybe a demonic finger nail splinter, who knew what the world would throw at him this time?

"I'm hittin' the city, Lady." he called out of courtesy, already heading to the door with dark shades over the bridge of his nose. "I ain't comin' back!"

And Lady could pretend to care less. In fact, she pretended to be asleep, to him. But Trish, who is sitting at the end of her bed, shook her head.

"We have to do something to get you out of this mess." Trish says thoughtfully, looking over Lady's more than dishevelled form.

She had sweat marks under her arms, and hadn't looked at a brush for days. Her nails were chewed and uneven, and her skin looked translucent. Lady hadn't been out since Dante had told her he loved her.

"Like, killing things?" Lady said hoarsly, because if she had talked so muh as a sylable before hand, she would've cried. And she didn't want that now, did she? "Or maybe killing me?"

Trish snorted and shook her head, going over to Lady's full length mirror and straightening out her corset. Then catching Lady's eye in the reflection, she said:


"I'm talking - pedicure on our toes, toes,
Trying on all our clothes, clothes,
Boys blowing up our phones, phones,
Drop-topping, playing our favorite cds,
Pulling up to the parties,
Trying to get a little bit tipsy."

Lady just blinked dumbly until Trish pulled out a wad of cash she found in Dante's jacket and waved it around.

"You know? The Love Planet does all that beauty crap now so that the wives and girlfriends have something to do whilst their significant others...Well, you know. They don't exactly get alot of buisness, but they're good."

Lady blinked stupidly.

"Why would a whorehouse have a beauty bar for the wives? Are they insane?"

Trish shrugged. "Dunno, they just do. It's on the top floor, so no half dressed play-bunnies or whatever. You game, girl? Or do I have to speand this on ice-cream and popcorn and rent The Notebook?"

Lady swallowed a lump and ran a hand through her hair.

"Yeah, maybe I will."

With Lady's hand on her head Trish had a clear veiw of the un-worldy thing lurking under her arm.

"But first, Lady, you shower. And shave."

And if Dante had've known that Lady was in the mess she was in, he would never have left so early with such a bad hangover to go and mutilate himself on purpose to cure the ache in his chest.

But then again, there would've been no mess for Lady to be in, no need to leave so early with a hangover the size of Texas or to mutilate himself if he hadn't of gotten so blindingly piss drunk stupid and said some things they both knew but didn't want to hear.

Really, this was his fault. In his eyes.

He squeezed into an alleyway and waited for the demons to find him. Today he couldn't be stuffed, and with his trusty bottle of Jack in one hand and Ebony in the other, he could care less.

A demon the size of a school bus approached silently from behind, snatched up his Jack-arm, and twisted it until it popped uncomfortably out of place. The bottle of Jack slid from his fingers and smashed, and the demon, otherwise known to the streets as 'DJ', grabbed the other and prepared to do the same.

"Don't stop, make it pop,
Dj, blow my speakers up,

Tonight, I'ma fight,
'Till we see the sunlight,
Tick tock, on the clock,
But the party don't stop."

And for Dante, the party never did stop. Not even when he was almost knocked unconcious by headbutting the demon's skull in.

After that, he decided not to lick the remains of his beloved Jack off the floor. Instead, he would go to the Love Planet and get pissed.

The walk back to the Love Planet was a lonesome one. He had no one to pick on, or to flirt with. Or perve on. Lady usually filled all of the aforementioned. It just wasn't right, hunting without her. So he couldn't even hunt his troubles away.

My God, she was like a bad smell.

He waltzed in and could smell Lady's perfume. Oh, why, had he dragged her here countless times before? (In high hopes she would get drunk enough to dance on the tabletops with the other girls.)

"Hello, Dante."

"Tasha! Hey, babe, what up?"

"Who do you think you are, P diddy? Now, do you want the usual?"

Dante reached for the secret wad he kept in a secret ass pocket he hadn't noticed himself, but found it empty. His entire face dropped when he pulled out an 'I.O.U' with pink lipstick as a signature.

"Don't worry, Dante, first round's on me." and she promptly poured him seven bottles of beer. He could go through them with ease, so she found out the hard way. (betting a hundred and seventy dollars and a one night stand that he couldn't skull them all in thirty seconds. She lost, dismally.)

She knew Dante well enough (after that particular expiriance,) by now to know something was wrong. Even when he mumbled 'thanks', there was no enthusiasm. And come to think of it, she hadn't seen Lady around either.


"Ain't got a care in world, but got plenty of beer,
Ain't got no money in my pocket, but I'm already here."

But that was only because Tasha had been late to work. If she had've been on time, she would've had to tell Lady and Trish how to find the rooms upstairs they did beauty and hair in.

"See?" Trish said, in a state of total bliss, with her long blonde hair being blown dry by a lovely plump lady in sweats.

"Mmm. I see." Lady hummed, leaning back into her more than comfy armchair as another woman flied her nails until they tingled pleasurably.

"Ah, ladies." said the woman drying Trish's hair, turning off the drier. "I think you have admirers."

And the duo looked up and giggled, as three of the Love Planet's 'pool boy's/'gardeners'/'sexy firemen' made kissy faces at them.

Trish handed over half of Dante's wad, telling the girls to keep the change, then the two linked arms and started to strut.

"And now the dudes are lining up cause they hear we got swagger,
But we kick em to the curb unless they look like mick jagger,"

They made their way into the clubs sub-levels, with the sexy fireman on Lady's side, rubbing up against her to the beat of the music while Trish was being ambushed by the gardener.

"I'm talking about - everybody getting crunk, crunk,
Boys trying to touch my junk, junk."

Then Lady spied Dante, who was arguing with the security gaurd, trying to reach what looked to be a bottle of Whiskey in the guy's hand. He shook his head. Dante started to bare his teeth.

Lady pushed the sexy fireman away, pulled Trish closer, and over the thud of the music, said:

"Gonna smack him if he getting too drunk, drunk,
Now, now - he goin' till they kick him out, out,"

Trish nodded, and the two girls weaved their way through the tables and various horny men who misplaced them for strip teasers. By the time Lady had shoved a man away and told him where to shove it, Dante had let Ivory do the talking and had shot at the roof. Once they finally got there, Dante looked murderous, waving an empty weapon under the unflinching gaurd's nose, whilst a woman who Lady knew to be Tasha was saying:

"...Or the police shut us down, down,
Police shut us down, down,
Po-po shut us -"

She didn't get the chance to finish, when the cops began to storm the joint. Fearing for his record, Lady grabbed Dante's arm and dragged him away, only after he sucsessfully aquired his Whiskey bottle. Trish stayed behind to make sure Dante's ass was covered for an alibai. She could play a very convincing witness, tits out and all.

Lady had managed to heft Dante up the stairs of DMC with only a few tenis grunts for sound, coupled with Dante's loud slurping noises. Otherwise, they were silent. She pushed open his door, with his arm around her shoulders, and manuvered him onto the bed, snatching away his bottle of whiskey before he could drink any more.

She sighed, pulling the blankets around him.

"Good night, Dante. Good luck with the hangover from hell."

She had almost left with composure and grace, when his sad, lonely voice called out to her.

"Don't stop, make it pop,
Dj, blow my speakers up,
Tonight, I'ma fight,
Till I see the sunlight,
Tick tock, on the clock,
But the party don't stop."


Lady's shoulder tensed. He started to repeat, but slurred his words so much even he couldn't understand what he was saying.

"Lady." Was all he could manage to moan. "Lady. I'm sorry."
With tears in her eyes, his Lady turns. She makes her way over to the bed, and while she doesn't kiss him like he wants her too, she sits beside him and leans down to whisper in his ear.

"Dante, you build me up,
You break me down,
My heart, it pounds,
Yeah, you got me,
With my hands up,
You got me now,
You got that sound,
Yea, you got me."

"I got you?"

"Red handed."

"Wha'?"

"I .. l-...l-...l-...loveyoutoo."

And he can only pull her into his arms, (because he's too drunk for even sex now,) and whispers into her hair, so she can have time to cry if she wants:

"Lady, you build me up,
You break me down,
My heart, it pounds,
Yeah, you got me,
With my hands up,
Put your hands up,
Put your hands up,
No, the party don't start until I walk in."

She snorts and wipes tears from her eyes. He has sucsessfully managed to fix the awkwardness with a joke. A bad, but totally necessary one.

"Of course it dosen't." she tells him, like it's obvious.

Don't stop, make it pop,
Dj, blow my speakers up,
Tonight, I'ma fight,
'Till we see the sunlight,
Tick tock, on the clock,
But the party don't stop.
...

Not for them, anyway.