Arbiteth

"Hey..." I said, elbowing the Elvis impersonator type sitting next to me. "They're wheeling in the new meat."

Strapped in a wheelchair was a blonde-headed kid, he was slumped over, obviously knocked out by the drugs...

"He's kinda cute." I cooed.

Dareth leaned in close to me. "Are you nuts, babe? I saw them wrestling him in. He has the strength of a bear. He is not cute."

I scoffed. "His face, baby." I teased. "I meant his face, not his temper."

Dareth pouted. "Why you always checking out other guys when you have a regular stud muffin who already loves you staring you right in the face?"

I felt his hands grip my waist and he rested his chin on my shoulder, pressing his nose into the back of my neck.

I reached back and smacked him hard in the head, causing him to back up with a cry.

"Because. You're like...the worst nymphomaniac I've ever seen."

Dareth growled. "I'm a satyromaniac..." He told me. "I have satyriasis. There are gender specific versions..."

I rolled my eyes. "It doesn't matter to me. You want to fuck every woman you see. No relationship, just sex."

He crossed his arms. "Yeah, I'm only this way because stupid bitches don't realize how excellent I am an don't give me any..."

I placed a hand on his knee, grinning and squeezing it suggestively. "Well I'll just do this...just to mess with you."

"Fuck you."

"You would..."

"I would!" He exclaimed. "Let's go. Please. Right now!"

I shook my head. "You're just gonna have to go fuck yourself on camera tonight."

"Damnit!"