Author's opening message: Yeah, it's short, I know, but I hope it satisfies. -NV22
Author's note: Some system or another does not want to support html, so stage directions or whichever are in //'s, word emphasises are in **'s.
Author's feeble request: Please R/R!!!
Disclaimer: Loki and Bartleby were created by Kevin Smith. I am not Kevin Smith. Thank you.
R for language
***
Over the next couple of weeks, the renegade angels were in a selection of commercials, several of which were widely received, several of which left audiences out in the cold and saw the dumpster before too long.
//A slow, sensual tune floods the air. The room is black and endless, white chairs floating about, each holding a beautiful model just barely clad in skimpy, silky underwear sets. The models are all fresh new faces, never before seen, clearly on the brink of international fame.//
//The first is a shapely blond, her hair full and cascading down her back as she straddles a chair and leans back to display her endowments.//
//The other models are in similar positions oozing eroticism, a steady camera pan of a brunette and another blond, this display accompanied by a breathy, feminine voiceover, laden with seductive tones.//
//"This season, the new bra is rated triple X...*ex*-citing, *ex*-hilarating, and *ex*-pensive."//
//A pretty Asian woman, and a second brunette pass into the frame...//
//The voiceover continues: "The new Pollyanna bra series, only at Victoria--"//
//The voiceover fades into a horrified scream as a young, blond male (Loki), wearing a lacy bra and panties appears on screen, stretched out almost obscenely over a chair.//
//A car passes quickly onto the screen, the familiar strains of a song begin, and a small child appears, with a minor cowlick, an out-of-place suit, and a slightly gapped tooth grin.//
//"Zoom, zoom," he whispers, and...//
//...is BLINDSIDED by an enraged Bartleby, screaming about demons and what-have-you as he pummels the poor child into the pavement.//
//Bartleby is sprawled on a couch, watching TV. The phone rings. He lifts the remote, hits the mute button, and answers.//
//"Hello?"//
//"WAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSUPPPPPPPPP!!"//
//"Call me again and I'll rape your mother." He hangs up.//
***FIN***
Author's note: Some system or another does not want to support html, so stage directions or whichever are in //'s, word emphasises are in **'s.
Author's feeble request: Please R/R!!!
Disclaimer: Loki and Bartleby were created by Kevin Smith. I am not Kevin Smith. Thank you.
R for language
***
Over the next couple of weeks, the renegade angels were in a selection of commercials, several of which were widely received, several of which left audiences out in the cold and saw the dumpster before too long.
//A slow, sensual tune floods the air. The room is black and endless, white chairs floating about, each holding a beautiful model just barely clad in skimpy, silky underwear sets. The models are all fresh new faces, never before seen, clearly on the brink of international fame.//
//The first is a shapely blond, her hair full and cascading down her back as she straddles a chair and leans back to display her endowments.//
//The other models are in similar positions oozing eroticism, a steady camera pan of a brunette and another blond, this display accompanied by a breathy, feminine voiceover, laden with seductive tones.//
//"This season, the new bra is rated triple X...*ex*-citing, *ex*-hilarating, and *ex*-pensive."//
//A pretty Asian woman, and a second brunette pass into the frame...//
//The voiceover continues: "The new Pollyanna bra series, only at Victoria--"//
//The voiceover fades into a horrified scream as a young, blond male (Loki), wearing a lacy bra and panties appears on screen, stretched out almost obscenely over a chair.//
//A car passes quickly onto the screen, the familiar strains of a song begin, and a small child appears, with a minor cowlick, an out-of-place suit, and a slightly gapped tooth grin.//
//"Zoom, zoom," he whispers, and...//
//...is BLINDSIDED by an enraged Bartleby, screaming about demons and what-have-you as he pummels the poor child into the pavement.//
//Bartleby is sprawled on a couch, watching TV. The phone rings. He lifts the remote, hits the mute button, and answers.//
//"Hello?"//
//"WAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSUPPPPPPPPP!!"//
//"Call me again and I'll rape your mother." He hangs up.//
***FIN***