Hello. I just finished writing and I uploaded the 30th and final chapter of this story! I'm all flustered! I can't wait for you guys to read it!
I do not own the SOA characters and stuff, they belong to Kurt Sutter, and I make no money from this story. I own the characters of Everett, Jack and Esther, I don't own any Disney princesses. Or Sailor Moon. I do however own Sailor. But not Moon. Read and you'll understand.
When he woke up, it was to a girl singing. And some clapping. God damn it. That's why he hated telling chicks his name, they got all dumb in the morning.
"If you're happy and you know, and you really want to show, if you're happy and you know it clap your hands."
"Don't quit your day job" he thinks as he tosses around in the bed, this is no hotel bedspread. It's a Jolly Rogers comforter, same for the pillows, and not girly or childish Jolly Rogers, no. It looked pretty cool.
He's surprised, when he sees her. He expected some barely-of-age bimbo with huge tits and ass to boot. He drank way too much, last night. She has a waist as thin as he had imagined, but the rest is different. Firstly, she's bald. He has more hair on his head than she does.
-If you're happy and you know it clap your hands.
She claps, behind her, there's a blue glittery dress, as he sits in her bed, he realizes she's wearing a bald-cap, there's a blond wig on a mannequin head behind her, waiting to be worn, she's doing her makeup. She's so caked with it that he couldn't tell if she's at least pretty or not.
-And you really want to show, if you're happy and you know it clap your hands.
He claps with her, she has a little startle, glances at him through the mirror before turning around with an apologetic smile on her face. 30 years old? Maybe.
-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up.
-I told you my name, didn't I?
-No. And I'm pretty sure I didn't tell you mine. There's Gatorade on the nightstand beside you, it'll make you feel better.
-What are you doing?
-Getting ready for work. Elsa got booked for two different birthday parties, today.
-Elsa?
Her eyes widen, and she spins on her heels to look at him in disbelief, her jaw is hanging.
-You said last night you have an eight years old daughter, and you have no clue who Elsa is?
-I should know?
-Wow. You are probably the best father in the world!
He doesn't know this chick, so he can't exactly analyze the way she talks, but that sounded pretty much like genuine admiration. She's turned back to the mirror, doing her mascara, she's got a nice little ass.
-Elsa is the most annoying movie character ever to be created. But the little bitch sells like hot cakes, so I had to put her in my catalog, or else someone else would be getting my bread and butter. I never let my daughter watch the movie, I have been seeing for myself how little girls turn into bitch-monsters when it comes to Elsa.
-Oh yeah?
-Damn, I saw two Malibu first graders rips one another's hair off over who would pose for a picture with me first. Hell no.
-So your job is to be this... Elsa?
-Be anyone, in fact. Parents call my boss, tell him who they want to book for their kids' parties, and I show up. I'm Sailor.
-Sailor?
-I know. It gets tackier when you know my last name.
-No!
-Yeah.
-Moon?
-Mars.
-Really?
-I kid you not. It used to be Tova, but in 92' Sailor Moon came out, and my parents were such geeks. Do you know how old I was, in 1992? I was 13 years old. Straight into high school. They made my life a living hell.
-Well, if it can make you feel any better, my name is Happy Lowman.
-Like that uh... Death of a salesman?
-Yup.
-Well, aren't we just two miserable suckers?
He smirks, he's far from miserable. His boxers are on the floor of her bedroom, he pulls them up his legs before going to the bathroom, he needs to take a piss. And maybe see her up close. She's humming again, she smells pretty good, he wished he could recall the previous night. Especially when she put an arm around his shoulders from behind while he was taking a piss, kissed his neck and tossed a "good morning, babe, breakfast is on the table" as she dropped her bathrobe to put the blue dress that was on the coat hanger on herself. She wasn't as cartoonishly thin at the waist as she had first appeared, she was wrapped up in a tight corset to fit in the dress and look like this Elsa thing.
-Where's your kid?
-It's her dad's weekend. So she's in Santa Monica.
-Oh. So you're a rich girl.
Great. That was all he needed, to be stranded in rich-land. With a girl dressed up as a princess of some sort.
-Nah, man, you're in Compton. Baby Daddy's mother wouldn't let me anywhere near her Calabasas home. I was just pulling your leg. Last name's Zlotnik.
-Jewish?
-Formerly. I like pork, booze and to fuck just too much.
-Amen. Jewish in Compton?
-Long story. All I can afford. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. My parents are from Lancaster.
-Your Jew parents named you Sailor?
-Nah. When I turned 21. A big "screw you mom", people would ask her "Where's Tova?" and she would reply, who's Tova? I never had a child named that.
He flushes, washes his hands before heading to the kitchen in nothing but his boxers, pauses for a second in the door frame, there's three black people sitting in the living room, watching TV. She said nothing about other people. But on the counter, breakfast looks just too good. He's halfway through his plate when Sailor comes out of her room, with the wig on her head and the blue dress on, yeah, that looks pretty good. She heads for the fridge, takes out a five-hour energy bottle, bottoms up, drinks it all before tossing it in the garbage.
-You probably got a lot of clingy chicks asking you out, but I got these two tickets to see Iggy Pop at the Greek, on Thursday. And I got no one to go with. You're a pretty good fuck, so I figure, maybe it would be something you'd wanna do.
-Iggy and a fuck? You're on.
-Ok, well remember where this place is, and pick my up around six, ok? I got to go, I have to get puked on and yelled at for a shit salary. But feel free to stick around until you're sick of this place.
That girl doesn't drive a piece of shit car. She pulls out of the drive after giving him a quick peck, driving an almost brand new Navigator SUV, Limited edition. He isn't gonna stick around here doing nothing, and once he's showered and dressed, he heads out, his bike is parked right on the street, she lives right across from a small airport. It's a little pink house with a pale brown roof and a white wrought-iron fence all around, there's a swing in the front yard, and a large playset in the big back yard. West 156th street.
He was on his way for a little harassment on Esther when his phone rang, Jax calling, he had to go back to Charming. The Aryan Brotherhood was causing trouble, and Jax wanted his best guys around. So he had to go and pick up Chibs and Montez and head back.
He was just about to pull into the Motel 6 parking lot when he got pulled over again, same cop as before, he sighed as he pulled his helmet off.
-Thought you were leaving this morning?
-Is it not still morning?
-It's getting dangerously close to noon time.
-Yeah, well they don't exactly post directions to Gardena from Compton, do they? I got to pick up my brothers. We work in the morning. In Stockton.
-Well I got another phone call this morning. Esther Gallegos placed you at her back door, trying to break in at three in the morning.
-Bullshit. I was in Compton with Sailor Zlotnik. West 156th street, I just left her house an hour ago. And guess what? You tell Esther I'm coming back to LA in Thursday, cause I'm taking my friend to see Iggy Pop at the Greek. I'm probably gonna stay overnight again.
-Iggy Pop at the Greek? Shit son, how'd you get tickets?
-Friend of a friend. I don't give a shit about Esther. So she can stop calling the cops on my ass, saying I've been stalking her and trying to break into her house. Bitch doesn't own Los Angeles.
-Just try to stay clear of places you know she goes often, ok? Her work, her neighborhood, that kind of things, will you?
-Yeah, of course.
-You have any contacts for this Sailor Zlotnik? Just so we can check out your alibi?
-I don't have her phone number.
-Allright. Anyone else that could verify where you were?
-Just her.
-Stay here. I'll be back.
It takes forever, but at least, when the cop comes out his his patrol car again, Chibs and Montaz are ready to leave, they checked out, got on their bikes and are waiting at the gate, Chibs is smoking a cigarette.
-What's the trouble, brother?
-I was wrist deep in Disney muff, and Esther called in I was doing a B&E at her house.
-Wrist deep in Disney muff? Should I even ask?
-No.
Finally, the cop comes back with his license and everything, a smile on his face.
-We found your Sailor Zlotnik. She corroborated your alibi in a quite colorful language. Enjoy Iggy Pop, that girl's a keeper, man.
Is she? He doesn't really know her, but the idea of her dressed up as a Disney princess, talking about how long and hard they fucked is enough to make the whole weekend in LA worth it. The cop has a smile as he passes him to go about elsewhere, Hap puts his helmet and glasses back on, what a weekend, so far.
Thoughts?