WARNINGS
TITLE: One Pink Tutu
CHAPTER: Chapter Four - "Watch That Face"
AUTHOR: DarthPirate and Aragia
BETA: Maniacs Edge
RATING: R-13 (content is not appropriate for children due to language, violence, and sexuality)
DISCLAIMERS: We do not own the characters, Warner Brothers and the Wachowski brothers do. We own this story and these events. This story was written purely for entertainment and not as a means to acquire money. If you are offended by the mention of homosexuality just don't read it. Any resemblance whatsoever to real persons, places or events is unintentional.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Somebody asked recently what time this story takes place. I had never really thought of that, but I guess it should be after Matrix 1, just before the events in the Animatrix are supposed to take place.
A drag queen that is. Neo thought it would be better to ignore her and kept walking by, but couldn't resist looking out of the corner of his glasses. She wouldn't see his stare through the shades, but even if she did she probably wouldn't mind. Anyone that wore that outfit, that much make-up, and whew! that much perfume, wanted to be noticed.
She donned a hot pink beaded corset that barely held her fake jugs in, a skirt that was almost too short in the front but then frilled out in the back and had a train that stretched out like forty boxcars as well as a caboose and then some. The skirt had enough pink lace to tie every woman in the city to her bed and last through a few good orgasms. But that was not the end of the outfit, oh no. She wore pink boots that zipped up to her calves and pink fishnet tights that held her legs together inside them. No effort was made to conceal the fact that she was a he, and his engine stood out from beneath the glitter and beads like fireworks in the night sky. The last piece of the getup was a pink feathered mask, to conceal all of the eye area except long pink lashes and irises tainted by contacts, no other color than pink. All in all, the drag queen looked as though she really did belong in the building: like an aging flamingo who took too many steroids and left that delicate machinery in the penis enlarging chamber so long it turned a funny color as well and wrinkled like a prune.
Neo continued on, trying with all his might to banish the image of the drag queen. Of course, the harder he tried, the more he thought about it. The face drifted back into mind, cheeks rosy like a blushing virgin getting a first kiss, eyes intent and deep beyond the plastic. The face... the face. The fa—the face!!! That was it! Somewhere in his head Neo heard a voice say "Look beyond the flesh and see your enemy." He pictured the face again, and he had it. Smith. When he turned back to look the person was gone, and he thought about going right back out to look for him or her (after all, how hard could it be to spot that much pink?) but then he thought again: why on earth would Smith be dressed like that? No sir e, not Smith, not in a dress. He put it all behind him and marched on, trying to regain what dignity he had lost in goggling a she-male.
