Naked Robber
"Under Roo!"
Steve Dave and Walt walked into the comic book store. Walt with an expression of confidence and triumph . . . and Steve Dave with a horrified expression of embarrassment and shame. "Why do I have to be the yokel with a best friend wearing his underwear on the outside?" He thought to himself.
"Hello, Jay!" Walt beamed happily as he walked into the store.
"Walt, don't call me Jay. It's Jason."
"Okay, Jay!"
"Steve Dave, why don't you teach this one better?"
"It's very difficult. His head is harder than his cock when he's watching Xena."
"Yeah, while you ram him in the ass!" Jason laughed as Steve Dave walked away while flicking him off.
"Shut up, Jason. You're just jealous cuz you know you wanna tap that ass."
"Yeah! Tell him, Steve Dave!" Walt exclaimed in his usual faithful puppy dog fashion from over the Xena comic book with his hand firmly placed around his penis.
"That image is super creepy. Walt! Don't get sperm on the comics, you sick freak! You spray 'em, you buy 'em!"
"Walt. Get off that butch sword fighting crap. We have a mission."
"We do? I mean, yeah! Okay, whatever you say, Steve Dave." Walt followed Steve Dave as he strolled past all the tantalizing covers of fresh and older comics. Walt wanted to salivate just looking at them. The curiosity bubbling inside of him finally burst in an explosion of fervid excitement as Walt yipped, "What's our mission!"
"Getting me a date for the high school reunion."
"What?" Disappointment and confusion was obvious in his voice. "Why, Steve Dave? You got me."
"No, Walt, I mean a real date. A woman. I need to look like I have a life. I was voted most likely to drop off the face of the earth only having comics as proof of my existence."
"What's wrong with that? Besides the lengthy title?"
"Walt! It's not good to be a loser!"
"I don't think you're a loser, Steve Dave. You're the coolest guy I've ever known." Walt's eyes sparkled as his innocent sincerity oozed out of his cheerful disposition.
"See, that's why I keep you around. Although that is kinda sad on your account. But anyway, I just really don't want to be made fun of and given swirleys like in high school."
"Oh, that's not going to happen. We're plenty old enough to be grown past all of that."
"I hope you're right."
"And you know, if anything goes wrong, we can take a charkam to their heads."
"You live in your own world, Walt. Really, you do."
"Hey, look! Issue 37 of Super Mutant Sluts!"
"Gimme that!" Steve Dave hoarded the comic hurriedly and stroked the comic lovingly as he forgot all about his useless attempt to find real woman.
Comics make way for more comics and the day of a mission turns dark as Steve Dave and Walt are still in the comic book store. It seems they got nothing done but discuss comics until they were accordingly thrown out. The comic book store closed, the next possible place to go was the All- Night Arcade.
Morning came and Steve Dave was forced to crack his neck as he noticed just where he was. Steve Dave stretched and moaned. He looked around to find a lone kid poking him in the leg with a stick. "You're a weird dude, mister."
"Go away." He threw something he found lying on the floor next to him at the boy. Observing the space around him he noticed a naked Walt curled into a ball, grasping his knees and his balls tightly. "What am I going to do with you, Walt?" He shook him awake. Lifting his arms to examine them, Steve Dave finally noticed the 3700 tickets decorating his body. "What? Walt, do you remember what happened last night?"
Walt looked around after rubbing his eyes tiredly. He pointed to a lonely, dusty game in a corner behind him. "Politician Samurai?" Steve Dave read. "Who the hell would waste their time on this game?"
Walt yawned and pointed to him with little interest.
The guy who worked at the arcade walked up just then to throw Walt some pants.
"Boy, if you don't get dressed, I'll rape you!"
"Woah, do I want to understand that one?" Walt shivered as a tight feeling crept up his asshole.
Walt turned to look at Steve Dave with a frightened expression. And maybe an accusative eye. Steve Dave also looked scared.
"Dude, you got beaten up by some gay Republican gamers for high scoring the Politician Samurai game that hardly no one plays. And then they gang banged your friend," the guy who worked there explained to Steve Dave as if it was a casual occurrence.
"And then they tossed some children's underwear on his head."
"Oh, no, that's really his underwear."
"Woah, creepy. Get out before I call the cops."
"Already gone," Steve Dave stated as they started to leave. "Come on, Walt."
"Wait," Walt said as he approached the employee. "Did they even leave their numbers?"
"Boy, put on your damn kiddie underwear!" He threw the under roos in Walt's face and gave him a stern push out.
As Steve Dave drove home he reflected back on the day and how they could have ended up where they did. Walt slipped on his underwear and pants and the shirt over his head while Steve Dave muttered to himself. "Hey!" He exclaimed in realization. "The reunion!"
"Yeah, Steve Dave? What about it?"
"It's today!"
"Oh . . . and?"
"And that's bad, Walt!"
"Oh . . . why?"
"Because I smell like Politician, I was beaten up by gay Republicans and you got raped, literally. I think that's the first time someone said at an arcade 'you got raped' and they truly meant it."
"I don't really mind."
"And that's what scares me, Walt. But anyway, I need to wash the stench of politician and gang rape off of me . . . well, the gang rape off you."
"Walt, go home," Steve Dave sighed as he pulled into his driveway.
"No, Steve Dave, we have a mission," his childish voice whimpered.
"Walt, get out of my car."
"But I don't wanna! My ass is sore."
"I can't imagine why." His sarcasm barely hid his heavily prevalent stress.
"Steve Dave!"
"Get walking, Walt!"
Walt grabbed Steve Dave's shoulders and shook him slightly with tears in his eyes. "Steve Dave, don't make me go home . . . I don't want to go . . . I just want to stay here . . . with you." Steve Dave, with a surprised look, suddenly sighed and his expression softened. He stroked his head gently and spoke with the caring of a brother, "Okay, Walt. But you're going to have to promise to be well-behaved."
"I will! I will!"
"Okay," Steve Dave sighed through his exhaustion.
Steve Dave walked into his house, dropped his keys on the kitchen table and grabbed a Coke from the refrigerator. He leaned against a wall and flipped through the yellow pages as he sipped his drink. Suddenly he squealed out in delight, spitting out the soda in his mouth.
"Walt!"
"What is it, Steve Dave?"
"I've got a great idea!"
"For what?"
"For the class reunion, dammit!"
"Oh, okay . . . what?"
"Walt," he sighed. "I'll hire someone to pretend to be my hot model girlfriend."
"You mean like a prostitute?"
"Well . . . yeah, I guess."
"Doesn't that cost money?"
"Yeah . . . but I have . . . some."
"No, you don't. You spent all of it on all 78 episodes of the original Star Trek."
"Well . . . maybe I can find some money somewhere."
"Where? My ass?"
"Don't give me any ideas . . . damn, that's gross. Walt, you're a man-slut." Steve Dave stepped into the living room while shaking the creepy images out of his head. He pulled up the cushions from the couch and searched through all the chairs and underneath them, too. Eventually he found 2 dollars and fifteen cents. "Would that be enough?"
"Did you say hot model? Or trailer trash model?"
"Uh . . ." And Steve Dave continued to search . . . but he stopped abruptly to turn to Walt and ask him curiously, "Hey, Walt, how do you know so much about prostitutes?"
"My step dad tells me about them all the time."
"Oh . . . yet again, creepy." And he went on with his search after 12 minutes of his hunt he found an extra 37 cents.
"This is not working," Walt said with disappointment obvious in his voice.
"I know that, Walt."
"Well, what are we going to do, Steve Dave?"
"I don't know." Steve Dave stood there for a moment, supporting the weight of his chin on his palm. Soon he lifted his head up and shouted in blind excitement.
"I can pimp you out for cash!"
"But Steve Dave, why pimp me out when you can just go with me to the reunion?"
"I already explained to you, I want to go with a GIRL! Not a gay WHORE like you!"
Shocked, Walk whimpered softly, his lower lip protruding outward and his eyes watering.
"Oh!" Suddenly, Steve Dave felt remorse. "I'm sorry, Walt. That's not what I meant . . . I'm sorry . . ."
Walt didn't answer, he just abruptly turned around and dashed out the front door.
"Oh! Walt! I'm sorry! Come back! Walt!" He stood in the doorway, hanging on the frame as he stared out, not really seeing. A cold wind stroked his chin and he hurriedly closed the door. He looked around quickly then sank into a chair. He felt empty. Sighing, he closed his eyes and tried not to think.
