Opening Montage
Music: "Who Says You Can't Go Home" by Bon Jovi, featuring Jennifer Nettles
First shot is Quinn seated on a train. Jim takes the seat next to her and they start talking. Cut to a shot of Quinn and Jim's wedding five years later. Then cut to a hospital room a few years later and we see an exhausted Quinn and smiling Jim holding newborn triplets. Cut to present day and we see the now nine-year-old triplets. Teddy is reading a book while Tommy and Timmy fight over the video game controller. Cut to Teddy rolling his eyes disdainfully at his immature brothers. Next, cut to a shot of Jim working on a car while a tripod mounted camera records the whole thing. Next shot is Quinn making a S'mores 'n' Pores video in the kitchen. Next shot is Jim chatting with Jamie, Chuck and Kevin over beer while Brittany and Daryl make out in the background. Next shot is Jamie teaching a history class at Lawndale High. He notices that the current quarterback is making out with his cheerleader girlfriend in class, causing Jamie to have a DeMartino-style meltdown. Next, we see Teddy hanging out on the playground with a girl his age who is visibly of mixed European/East Asian heritage. They watch the 'normal' kids play with visibly disdain, implying that this girl is the Jane to Teddy's Daria. Next, we see Quinn, Jim and the triplets stand on the front lawn and smile at the audience. The following caption appears under them...
Lawndale
S. 3, Ep. 2
"From Simp to Pimp"
written by
WildDogJJ
Act I
That's Amore Italian Restaurant, evening...
Tom Sloane and his wife, Sandi, were having a candle-lit dinner at the most romantic restaurant in town. The occasion was their wedding anniversary.
"I can't believe it's already been tweleve years," said Tom.
Sandi responded by having a bitch relapse. "Excuse me," she hissed, "Are you saying that I'm old!?"
Tom was taken aback. "What!? No! Sandi, we got married on this date in 2011 and it's 2023 now. Do the math."
Sandi calmed down. "Sorry," she said, "I...Well, I guess the fact that I turned 42 two weeks ago has me on edge."
"Forty-two," said Tom in mock surprise, "I could've sworn you were 29."
Sandi smiled at the compliment. "Flattery will get you VERY far."
"I know," said Tom in a sly tone, "After all, you've kept up with the fittness routine from your days as a stripper."
Sandi's eyes suddenly narrowed and her bitchiness returned. "Tom," she barked, "you know perfectly well that I HATE being reminded of the fact that I used to be a stripper."
Tom immediately recognized that he'd put his foot in his mouth. "Sorry," he said, "you know how my mouth sometimes moves faster than my brain."
Sandi sighed. "I know."
At this point, a waiter approached them.
"Welcome to That's Amore," said the waiter as he handed each a menu, "and for a beverage, may I ineterst you in one of our fine wines?"
Sandi looked at the wine selection and smiled approvingly. "I see you have vintage chianti from 2014, and the champagne is from 2005. Most excellent."
The waiter nodded in agreement.
Sandi proceeded to say "My husband and I will have the chianti."
"Sandi," said a frowning Tom, "I'm driving."
Sandi brushed off her husband's concern. "Tom, one or two glasses won't hurt."
"Not me," said Tom, "but if I drive after some wine I could accidentally hurt you, or other drivers, or pedestrians. If caught, I could be sent to prison. Also, have you considered the poor example it'd set for Shane."
"Tom," Sandi hissed, "why are you being such a buzzkill?"
"Well," said Tom, "we're parents now, we have to set an example."
Sandi rolled her eyes in disbelief. "Tom, Shane's probably gonna be in bed by the time we get home. I was very clear with the nanny on that point. "
The waiter was now visibly uncomfortable. "So...no wine, then?"
"No, thanks," said Tom.
As the waiter left, Sandi proceeded to chew her husband out.
"Tom, are you aware that you're ruining our anniversary?"
"Come on, Sandi," Tom protested, "I'm just being sensible."
"No, Tom," said Sandi, "you're killing the mood. First, you say something that reminds me of my age DESPITE all of the times I've asked you not to do that. Then, you remind me of my past as a stripper.."
"That's a compliment," Tom interrupted, "how many guys can say they've successfully turned a ho into a housewife?" He instantly regretted saying that.
"How...dare...you," Sandi hissed in a menacing tone.
"eep," said Tom, "I...I didn't mean it like that."
Sandi folded her arms. "You know perfectly well that I became a stripper solely out of economic necessity and as quick to leave that profession once able...not to mention that I danced at a place that had a VERY strict look-but-don't-touch policy."
"Sorry," Tom meekly replied.
Sandi was not so quick to let him off the hook. "You know, Tom," said Sandi in a frosty, sarcastic tone, "I really appreciate you reminding me of my age, my checkered past AND acting more like a parent than a hot date. That is soooo romantic."
The rest of the dinner date was spent in awkward silence.
A few hours later...
Tom and Sandi were driving home in one of his Ferrari's. Inside the car Sandi was continuing to give her husband the silent treatment.
"Sandi," Tom pleaded, "I'm sorry I ruined our dinner date."
Sandi continued to fold her arms and not speak.
"Come on, Sandi," Tom begged, "I'm sorry I kept saying things that killed the mood. Don't you think you're over-reacting?"
That got Sandi talking. "You know, Tom, what happened tonight was just the latest symptom of the real problem."
Tom was visibly puzzled. "Real problem?"
Sandi shot her husband a look that would make the Terminator piss himself. "The real problem," she hissed, "is how you've been taking me for granted for a while now. It got so bad that at one point I even thought you were having an affair."
"Sandi," Tom protested, "I'd never cheat on you, you know that!"
"Yes," said Sandi, "and after things came to head you promised to stop taking me for granted. Now, eleven months later, YOU'RE STILL NEGLECTING ME!"
"Sandi," said Tom, "I'm sorry. You know how I sometimes get carried away with the job."
"That's no excuse," Sandi barked, "Remember when Quinn and Jim celebrated their wedding anniversary a few months back? You made a snarky comment at their party that embarrassed me!"
"And apologized right after," Tom reminded her.
"Then," Sandi continued, "you blew Shane and I off for a last-minute business trip."
"Sandi," Tom protested, "I had to go to Washington and lobby congress. You know how government policy can make or break a firm as large as Grace, Sloane and Page!"
"But you don't know how much it pissed me off when you just took off like that," Sandi retorted, "ESPECIALLY on top of your growing tendancy to neglect me!"
"Alright, then," said Tom, "how much did int piss you off?"
To angry to care about the consequences of what she said next, Sandi told him. "I was so angry that I went to Quinn and Jim's with a bottle of tequila, got them liquored up...AND SCREWED BOTH OF THEM! By the way...JIM'S A WAY BETTER LAY THAN YOU EVER WERE, YOU JERK!"
Tom gasped in shock as he slammed the breaks. "YOU WHAT!? YOU HAD A THREESOME WITH MY OLD COLLEGE ROOMMATE AND HIS WIFE!?"
"YES," Sandi yelled back.
"Sandi," said a visibly hurt Tom, "how...how could you!?"
"After two years of neglect," Sandi hissed, "How could I not?"
"I...I..." Tom was at a total loss for words. His wife has just admitted to cheating on him with two of their closest friends.
Sandi suddenly unhooked her seatbelt and stepped out of the car. "SCREW YOU, TOM," she shouted as she slammed the door shut and angrily walked off.
Tom was too stunned to do anything but sit there with a dumbfounded expression on his face.
Casa Carbone, the next day...
Sandi walked up to the front door and rang the bell home. Quinn answered.
"Sandi," said Quinn, "what brings you here?"
"Quinn," said Sandi, "I need to talk to both you and Jim."
The living room, a few minutes later...
Sandi has just told Jim and Quinn how, in a moment of anger, she told Tom about the threesome.
"Dammit, Sandi," Jim barked, "I thought all three of us had agreed to never speak of that again, under any circumstances!"
"Sandi," said an equally upset Quinn, "We all agreed that threesome was a mistake that's best put behind us!"
"I know," said Sandi with a sigh, "I was just too angry to think straight. I was angry because Tom seems to be making no effort whatsoever to keep our marriage strong. Sometimes...sometimes I feel like he just doesn't love me anymore."
"Sandi," said Quinn in a reassuring tone, "we all know that's not true."
Added Jim, "Tom constantly tells us you're the best thing that ever happened to him."
Sandi sighed. "I know he feels that way, but it's been so long since his actions have reflected his words. All the romance and passion has left our marriage, but I seem to be the only one who's bothered by this." She sighed before continuing. "I know we were drunk, but that just means we were less inhibited than normal. I did it because I was feeling neglected in the marriage and wanted that feeling of both romantic and sexual connection again. Quinn, you did it because you wanted to experience something different and, Jim, you did it because it was a chance to live every straight guys ultimate sexual fantasy."
Jim visibly felt awkward. "Sandi, we aren't doing it again."
Quinn nodded in agreement. "One crazy night was enough for me."
"Me too," said Sandi, "but I'm the one who stands to lose the most now that my husband knows."
"Sandi," said Quinn, "I know it's cynical, but maybe this is the kick in the ass Tom needs to finally realize that he could lose you if he doesn't take the relationship more seriously."
Jane's loft in SoHo...
Jane and a visiting Daria were listening to Tom's troubles.
"I knew it," said Jane, "I knew something happened that weekend that Quinn and Jim weren't telling us about."
Tom sighed. "It hurts...so much. I didn't think our marriage was in so much trouble that Sandi would actually cheat on me with two people...at the same time."
"So," said Daria, "I take it you wanted to tell Jane and get her perspective, seeing as your relationship with her ended in a similar manner."
Tom nodded.
"You know, Tom," said Jane, "you actually are making the same mistake in your marriage that I made in our high-school romance. You're getting so wrapped up in your own thing that it's causing your SO to slip away. At least all that happened was you and Daria kissed in a car. I was eventually able to let that slide. I don't think I would've been so forgiving if you'd slept with her while we were still going out."
"Way to make me feel better," Tom deadpanned.
"Tom," said Daria, "your marriage is still salvageable."
Jane nodded in agreement. "I know Sandi well enough to know that, despite haughtiness to the contrary, she probably feels bad about cheating."
"So," said Tom, "what do I do?"
"That depends," said Daria, "on whether or not you want to save your marriage."
"I wanna save my marriage," said Tom, "but I don't know how. Sandi never tells me when she's upset unless I actually put my foot in my mouth." That's when Tom got an idea. "Of course, I have a beef with her now! I'm not blameless! I'm just gonna go back to Lawndale, march over there and let Sandi know how wrong she was to cheat on me! I may have neglected her, but at least I didn't fuck two of our closest friends behind her back!"
Both Daria and Jane exchanged worried looks.
"Tom," said Jane, "that's not what we..."
Tom was feeling too gung-ho to listen. He just stood up.
"It's time to let Sandi know she can't treat me like crap!"
He walked out of the place before either Daria or Jane could say anything.
Once alone, Daria spoke.
"This isn't gonna end well."
The next day...
Daria and Jane were once again sitting in the loft watching TV. On TV was a black man in a fur coat with a purple fedora hat and lots of bling.
"He's a pimp...AND A BESTSELLING AUTHOR! Sweet Daddy Jones discusses his book, How To Be a Ho, next on Sick, Sad World!"
"Pimp's giving sex advice," said Jane, "what a shocker."
Added Daria, "I guess no one at Sick, Sad World has ever seen a Red Pill post."
At that moment, the doorbell rang. Jane got up to answer. She frowned when she saw who it was.
Standing at the door was Tom, with two suitcases and tears in his eyes.
"Sh...She...SANDI THREW ME OUT OF THE HOUSE!"
He then proceeded to cry.
"Goddammit," said Jane with an eye roll.
Act II
Ray's Pizza and Bagels, evening...
Daria and Jane were chatting over pizza at their favorite East Village hangout. Jane was bitching about the recent change in her living situation.
"...so now I have Tom sleeping in my guest bed when he isn't incessantly crying about his wife having a threesome with your sister and her husband."
"Jane," said Daria, "don't mention that Sandi's infidelity involved my sister. I'm disturbed enough without that image in my head."
Jane rubbed her temples. "I can't freaking believe this. First, Tom shows up at my place asking for advice. We try to give it to him, but he doesn't listen. Instead, he tries to assert himself in the worst way possible and instead of a reconcilliation gets tossed on his ass."
"Come on, Jane," said Daria, "It's hardly the first time you and Alan opened your home to a friend. Remember when I moved to the city? I stayed in your guest room for almost a year due to the insanely high cost of housing in New York."
"You weren't crying about a relationship that's going south fast," Jane pointed out, "At least Alan's out of town until next month, but Tom will have probably driven me crazy by then."
Jane's loft in SoHo, a short time later...
Jane and Daria were watching TV. During a commercial break, they continued the conversation about what's been going on.
"Daria," said Jane, "why don't you take Tom off my hands?"
"No," Daria flatly replied.
"Why not," asked Jane.
"You have a large place with a guestroom in SoHo," said Daria, "I have a one-bedroom in Hells Kitchen."
"So," said Jane, "You don't have a husband. Share the bed. You've shared a bed with Tom before."
Daria was not amused. "That was a drunken hookup on Spring Break...that happened almost a whole year after Tom and I broke up. Not only do I have no desire for such a sexual encounter now but while I remain single Tom is married, and I'm not going to risk further damage to a relationship that's already on thin ice."
Before the conversation could continue Tom entered. He was still in his pajamas despite the fact that it's now evening. His red eyes dishelved appearance makes it clear that he has spent the entire day crying in bed.
"Jane," said Tom, "I...oh...God...sniff...whu...WHY, SANDI, WHY!?" He proceeded to have a crying fit.
Jane turned towards Daria. "See what I mean? He's been doing this all day. He sits in bed feeling sorry for himself, only coming out to cry about his crumbling marriage. It's like the last time Wind visited."
Daria couldn't resist making a deadpan remark. "Isn't that how it is EVERY time Wind visits you?"
"Touche, Daria," said Jane with a smirk.
By this point, Tom had stopped crying. "Sorry you had to see that, Daria." He then turned towards Jane. "I just wanted to thank you for letting me stay here, Jane. I know that it's a major inconvenience."
Jane shrugged off the thanks. "No problem, Tom. That's what friends are for. Take all the time you need."
"Th...th..." Tom couldn't get the words out. He then ran into the guestroom and cried so loudly that Daria and Jane could hear it.
Jane turned to Daria and scowled. "Dammit, I've gotta get him out of here before he drives me completely insane!"
Daria stood up. "I see what you mean. Now, I've gotta get out of here before this drags me down into madness with you. Later." Daria then made a hasty retreat to the door and left.
Once she was alone, something on TV caught Jane's attention. That something gave her an idea.
Perfect! If this guy can't fix Tom and get him outta my place, then no one can!
A few days later...
Daria and Jane were standing in her loft.
"I can't believe you're doing this," said Daria, "I can't believe you talked me into doing this!"
"Come on, Daria," Jane pleaded, "you know I can't convince Tom to do this without your help."
Daria sighed. At this moment, a pajama clad Tom emerged from the guest room. He instantly grew concerned at the sight of both Daria and Jane standing there with crossed arms and cross expressions.
"Um...What's going on," Tom asked.
"Tom," said Jane in a firm tone, "we need to talk. There's also someone I want you to meet."
Looking at her watch, Daria added, "And he should be here any minute now."
No sooner had Daria said that then the door opened.
Music: Generic seventies funk
In stepped a tall, skinny black man who bore a striking resemblence to the rapper Snoop Dogg. This man wore a white mink coat over a purple blouse and purple bell-bottoms with platform gator skin boots. On his head was a large purple fedora hat with a peacock feather sticking out of the brim. He had a gold medallion around his neck, gold rings on each finger and the look was topped off with a diamond-tipped cane made of alabaster. This man immediately introduced himself.
"Tom Sloane, my name is Sweet Daddy Jones, professor of pimpology, an' this is yo' intervention."
Tom raised an eyebrow. "Intervention!?"
Sweet Daddy nodded. "Tha's right, playa. Yo' friends here believe you sufferin' from oneitis."
Tom looked at both Daria and Jane. "Is this some kind of joke?"
"No joke," said Jane.
Added Sweet Daddy, "Tom, onitis is no laughin' matter. Addiction to a bitch can fuck wit' yo' mind, yo' friends, yo' health an', scariest of all, yo' money. It's a disease, Tom, an' I'ma be th' doctor."
Tom was now struggling not to laugh. "Um...Look...What did you say your name was, again?"
"Sweet Daddy Jones, the Ultimate Pimp."
Tom allowed himself a brief chuckle. "Listen, Mr. Jones, I really don't need help from...heh...someone like you...heh-heh!"
"By that," said Sweet Daddy, "You mean a pimp?"
Tom held up his hands in mock surrender. "Look, I'm not trying to dis you or anything. I just don't approve of what guys in your profession do to women."
"Oooo, I see," said Sweet Daddy with an eye roll, "So I'm th' one who messed up. Tell me this, playa, who th' one missin' a bitch? Not me, that fo' sho'. I know where all my bitches at." To make the point, Sweet Daddy reaches into his coat, pulls out an I-Phone and dials a number. "Where you at, bitch!?" He then held the phone in Tom's face so the latter could clearly hear the response.
"I'm out here, gettin' your money!"
Sweet Daddy took back the phone. "Tha's what I thought! Carry on, ho!" He then hung up and turned his attention back to Tom. "An' look at you! You bitchless! You what the French call sans bee-otch!"
Tom decided he'd had enough. "Screw this, I'm going back to bed!" He turned back towards the guest room only to have Jane run in front of him and block his path.
"Dammit, Tom," she said, "you're staying right here!" Jane took a breath to calm down before continuing. "Look, when I took you in I thought it was only gonna be temporary, but now I just don't see an end in sight."
Tom rolled his eyes. "I've only been here three days."
Daria added her two cents. "Believe me, Tom, it's been a VERY long three days. You're constantly wallowing in self-pity, which is driving Jane nuts. You know who she takes it out on when someone drives her nuts? Me, that's who!"
Tom began to lose his patience. "Dammit, you two, this is ridiculous! You know what, I know the best therapist in New York. In fact, I'm going to call and make an appointment right now!"
Daria turned to Jane and gave her a stern look. "Jane, that DEFINITELY would've been a better idea than hiring a pimp who moonlights as a relationship coach."
"True," Jane admitted, "but I already paid Sweet Daddy his fifty-thousand-dollar retainer fee."
Tom was pleasantly surprised. "Really!? That was surprisingly generous of you!"
"Yeah," said Jane, "I did it with your credit card."
Tom frowned. "Oh."
Sweet Daddy rejoined the conversation. "Sorry, playa, looks like you stuck wit' me."
Sloane Mansion, later that day...
Sandi and a visiting Quinn were in the parlor chatting over tea.
"Sandi," said Quinn, "I can't believe you threw Tom out of the house over this!"
"Kuh-winn," said Sandi in a frosty tone, "how could I not after what he said to me? He had the gall to tell me how I'm a worse spouse than he is! HOW DARE HE!"
Quinn rolled her eyes. "Sandi, even if he was crass about it Tom still had a point. He's not the one who cheated. Yes, he neglected you, but that doesn't justify jumping into bed with my husband and I after we all had too much to drink!"
"Dammit, Kuh-winn," Sandi hissed, "my mounting lonliness was what drove me to it!"
Quinn held her ground. "That doesn't make it right, Sandi, and you know it!"
"Gee, Kuh-winn," Sandi shot back, "If you're so moral, then maybe YOU should be married to Tom Sloane!"
Quinn folded her arms. "Sandi, I'm not letting you shut this conversation down, not this time. First off, I'm not moral. Jim and I each could've put the breaks on things at any point that night but none of us did. I was feeling bi-curious, you were feeling neglected and we all were feeling horny. None of that changes the fact that what we did that night was wrong. You betrayed your husband, and my husband and I were complicit in that betrayal. Second, you're so quick to blame Tom for everything wrong in your marriage yet refuse to acknowledge your own fault in things. When you thought Tom was cheating on you, did you try to talk it out with him? No, you tried to seduce Jim and I into a threesome. A few months later Tom blows you off for a last minute business trip and did you tell him how that made you feel? No, you immediately show up at mine and Jim's house, get us drunk and then actually go through with a threesome this time!"
Sandi was beginning to lose her patience. "What are you saying, Kuh-winn!?"
"I'm saying," said Quinn, "that the real problem in your marriage is a lack of communication. You and Tom don't say what you feel to each other. You just let the problems bubble under the surface until things explode. Jim and I don't do that. When one of us is upset with the other we deal with it right away. We don't wait for a small problem to build up into a marriage threatening crisis, like you and Tom do."
Sandi was about to tell off Quinn when she immediately thought better of it. While Sandi wouldn't say so, she had to admit that Quinn has just successfully identified what aspect of the marriage is most in need of fixing.
A street in Lawndale, day...
Music: "Po Pimp" by Do or Die
Do ya wanna ride
In the backseat of a Caddy, choppin' it up wit' Do or Die
A Cadillac Limosene was going down the highway. Inside, a scantily clad blond hottie was driving while Tom and Sweet Daddy were having a conversation in the back.
"What I don't get," said Tom, "is why a pimp would moonlight as a relationship coach."
"Philantropy," Sweet Daddy answered, "Th' game been real good ta me, an' sharin' my pimp knowledge fo' an exhorbidant fee is my way o' givin' somethin' back. Now, tell me mo' 'bout this cheatin' bitch you married to."
Tom let out a frustrated sigh. "Could you please not call my wife a bitch?"
"Tom," said Sweet Daddy, "I'm sorry but after what she done not callin' yo' wife a bitch would be disrespectful to you, an' I ain' gon' do that. Now, tell me whut led up to her sluttin' wit' yo' two closest homies."
Tom sighed. "A lot of things. After the pandemic lockdowns ended and the economy took off I became so swamped in work that I increasingly blew Sandi and our son off for my job. Sandi felt neglected, but I was too busy to notice." He let out a forlorn sigh before continuing. "It wasn't always like that. Before the pandemic, Sandi and I were like a pair of lovesick teenagers. We always made time for each other. My family didn't approve of her, but I was willing to risk being disowned just to be with Sandi. Eventually, they accepted her because I was the sole male heir. They even grew to love her when she gave birth to a son, ensuring that the Sloane name and legacy would live on after me. Now...Now, all Sandi and I do is fight. We never agree on anything anymore. Even before the threesome it had gotten so bad that the few times we made love over the past year or two I got the distinct feeling that Sandi was faking her orgasms."
Sweet Daddy proceeded to give his diagnosis. "Tom, it sound to me like the romance an' passion have left yo' marriage, like you ai' providin' enough excitement fo' yo' wife. I's a common thing in long term relationships."
"And," said a hopeful Tom, "you're gonna help me get the spark back?"
"Hell, no," said Sweet Daddy, "I'ma help you make that bitch behave. She wan' excitement, she can take her bitch ass to th' movies, feel me?"
Tom now had a sinking feeling. At this point, the limo approached a gated palatial estate. The plaque above the gate read as follows...
SWEET DADDY JONES INSTITUTE OF PIMPOLOGY
Inside the main building, a short time later...
Sweet Daddy was giving Tom a tour of the grounds. They passed by what looked like a laboratory. They stopped at a glass panel to observe what was going on. In one part of the lab somescantily clad female inventors were working on a maching called the Orgasmo 2000. In another area, a naked hooker was riding a rich man like a pornstar on a bed. Above the bed was a sign that read "Stamina Enhancement Test Station". Another corner of the lab showed a scantily clad female chemist mixing a formula called "Insta-Hard Male Arousal Serum".
Sweet Daddy then led Tom from the lab into what looked like an art gallery. All the paintings were just ornate portraits of Sweet Daddy, however.
Sweet Daddy explained. "We here at the Institute of Pimpology are at the cutting edge of the Art of Pimpin' an' th' Science of Hoin'. Fo' example, we recently did a study on bee-otch behavior. Th' findin's were in'erestin'. Did you know that 99.9 percent o' bitches is too emotional to be capable o' reason or, to put it in non-scientific terms, bitches be crazy?"
Tom struggled to contain his disbelief. "A scientific study said that," he said in a skeptical tone.
"Exactly," said Sweet Daddy, "this alarmin' find mean that talkin' jus' ain' gonna work wit' a bitch. Tha's why ya gotta hit her."
Tom froze. "Excuse me!?"
Sweet Daddy clarified. "Ya tell yo' woman whut ta do! She say no, hit th' bitch! It that simple!"
"Sure," Tom deadpanned, "because beating your wife solves everything."
"Sho' does," said Sweet Daddy.
"No way," said Tom, "I could NEVER hit Sandi. I'd never hit any woman!"
"Tell me sumthin'", said the pimp, "Has not hittin' yo' bitch been workin' fo' ya?"
Tom was adamant in his refusal to embrace domestic violence. "No way! I could never do something like that, not to my wife, not to anyone!"
Sweet Daddy put a reassuring hand on Tom's shoulder. "I's a'ight, Tom," he said, "we all got our phobias. Some fools can't stand snakes, some can't handle spiders, some can't go upside a bitches head. We can fix this. Now, come on, future playa."
Tom now had a sinking feeling as he followed Sweet Daddy into the next room.
Act III
Sweet Daddy Jones Institute of Pimpology, day...
Tom stood on a training mat in the gymnasium. Standing off to the side was pimp/relationship coach Sweet Daddy Jones. Across from Tom was a beautiful young black woman in a leather bikini and knee high go-go boots. Sweet Daddy introduced Tom to his sexy sparing partner.
"Tom," said the pimp, "this is my favorite bottom bitch, Sweet Tabu."
Tom politely waved. "Hello."
Sweet Daddy continued. "Tabu is here to help you practice being dominant in yo' marriage. She'll be playin' th' role of yo' wife."
Tom nodded in understanding.
"Now," said Sweet Daddy, "You remember yo' lines?"
"Yes," said Tom.
"Good," said Sweet Daddy, "I want you to approach Tabu, grab her arm an' command her to leave wit' ya."
Tom then forcefully grabbed Sweet Tabu by her arm and said his line. "Sandi, get your.."
"STOP," Sweet Daddy interrupted, "say bitch."
Tom sighed. "Is that really necessary?"
"Yes," said Sweet Daddy, "it's necessary to call her a bitch. Trust me, I done the research."
Tom sighed as he once again grabbed Sweet Tabu's arm. "Bitch, get your behind in the car!"
"Better," said Sweet Daddy, "But say it like this...BITCH, GET YO' ASS IN THE CAR! Now, try again."
Tom once again forcefully grabbed Sweet Tabu's arm. "BITCH, GET YOUR ASS IN THE CAR!"
Sweet Tabu responded by yanking her arm free and getting in Tom's face. "KISS MY ASS, YOU DICKLESS FAGGOT! IF YOU WAS ANY KIND O' REAL MAN I WOULDN'T BE FUCKIN' YO' OLD COLLEGE BUDDY AN' HIS WIFE IN THE FIRST PLACE, PUSSY!"
Tom was momentarily stunned. A second later, he regained his composure. "Um, I don't think that's what Sandi would say. I mean, she'd say something like that but she'd be a lot more cuttingly frosty in her delivery."
Sweet Daddy disregarded Tom's objection and spoke. "Tom, it now pretty obvious that reasonin' ain' gon' work wit' her. Ya gotta hit her."
Tom rolled his eyes. "Look, that's not how it works with people like Sandi and I."
Sweet Tabu reassured him. "It's alright, Tom. Go ahead an' hit me, hard as you want."
"See," added Sweet Daddy, "She jus' gave you permission."
Tom began to lose his patience. "I'm an Ivy League educated member of the business community, for chrissake."
Tabu then punched Tom right in the face.
"OW! WHAT THE HELL, LADY!?"
Sweet Daddy stifled a laugh. "She got no problem hittin' you, Tom."
"C'mon, faggy boy," Tabu taunted, "hit me, prison bitch!" She followed that up by punching Tom right in the mouth.
"Oh, man," said Sweet Daddy, "You DEFINITELY allowed by law to hit 'er now! Self-defense, G!"
Tabu then punched Tom in the gut, elbowed him in the face, did a sweeping kick that knocked him to the ground, pinned him down and knocked him unconscious.
"Damn, Tabu," said a visibly impressed Sweet Daddy, "You in rare form, honey!"
Sweet Tabu smiled at the praise. "Thanks, master."
A command center, a short time later...
The room was full of monitor screens. Seated at a computer was a beautiful, buxom blonde in high-heeled sandals wearing a skimpy slip dress that was colored like the British flag. Sweet Daddy was showing Tom around.
"Welcome to my state-of-the-art bitch surveillence center."
"Why does a pimp need a surveillence center," asked Tom.
Sweet Daddy explained. "Included in yo' fee is bitch sruveillence." He then introduced Tom to the hooker in the Union Jack dress. "Stormy Spice has been monitorin' yo' wife's phone calls, e-mails, social media posts an' even hacked her cell to track her movements."
Stormy Spice handed her pimp a stack of papers as she spoke in a posh English accent. "Here are Mrs. Sloane's transcripts. There's been no mention of Mr. and Mrs. Carbone." Stormy then turned her attention back to her computer. "I'm hacking her e-mail now but this computer is running a bit slow. Perhaps if we didn't use dialup..."
Sweet Daddy smacked her with the transcripts.
"...OW!"
"BITCH," barked Sweet Daddy, "DON' START WIT' THAT 'WE NEED A NEW COMPUTER' SHIT AGAIN! YOU SAY THAT EVERY TIME A NEW I-MAC COME OUT! YOU AIN' SLICK! YOU BETTER MAKE THAT OLD SCHOOL SHIT WORK AN' STOP PLAYIN' WIT' ME, BEE-OTCH!"
"Yes, Sweet Daddy," said Stormy in an apologetic tone. She then turned her attention to Tom. "Does Sandi have a Facebook page?"
Tom nodded. "Yes."
"What's her password," asked Stormy.
"Well," said Tom, "we usually use each other's middle names. Mine's Jefferson."
Stormy tried. "Nope, it's not Jefferson. Let me try again." She tried another password. "I'm in. Her password is Carbon3."
Tom now sturggled to suppress a pang of jealousy.
"Ah," said Stormy, "I just found some interesting PMs. It appears that your wife plans to meet with Jim and Quinn at LeGrande hotel...at 5:30 this afternoon."
Tom looked at his watch and panicked. "THAT'S IN AN HOUR!" He then turned towards Sweet Daddy. "YOU HAVE TO TAKE ME...NOW!"
Sweet Daddy was dismissive. "Tom, if you ain' ready to take control then goin' there won' do no good. I say let the bitch have another threesome."
"DAMMIT," Tom yelled, "I PAID YOU FIFTY-GRAND!"
Sweet Daddy remained calm. "Tom, I hope you can understand our no-refund policy. Howzabout a complimentary night wit' Sweet Tabu."
Tom was adamant. "No, no, NO! You're still on retainer and we're going...NOW!" Tom then angrily walked towards the door.
"Oho," said an impressed Sweet Daddy, "so NOW you got some balls!"
"Damn straight," Tom barked, "NOW COME ON, BITCH-ASS!"
Sweet Daddy smiled. "Looks like I got through to him after all!"
LeGrande Hotel, an hour later...
Tom marched into the lobby with a look of fierce determination on his face. He was accompanied by Sweet Daddy Jones, Sweet Tabu and Stormy Spice.
"Remember," said Tabu, "Sandi's YOUR bitch, not Jim and Quinn's."
"Stand up for yourself, chap," encouraged Stormy.
"Don' forget to hit the bitch," said Sweet Daddy.
Tom looked around. Finally, he saw Sandi chatting with Jim and Quinn at the hotel bar. Tom's face contorted into a mask of fury as he made his way over to them.
"So," said Jim, "it's agreed."
"Yes," said Sandi, "all three of us confront Tom, apologize and make some gestures as a piece offering."
Suddenly, Sandi was grabbed by the arm and forcefully turned around.
"Sandi," Tom barked, "I mean bitch. WE'RE GOING...NOW!"
Sandi was not having it. "Excuse me!?"
Tom was resolute. "You heard me, bee-otch!"
Sandi tried to pull her arm free from Tom's tightening grip. "Dammit, Tom, let me GO!"
"Jeez, Tom," said Jim, "Calm down, man!"
Tom said, "NO, this is MY BITCH!"
Sandi struggled against Tom's grip. "What the hell's wrong with you, asshole!?"
Tom raised his free hand. "SHUT UP, BITCH!" He then smacked Sandi so hard that she fell to the floor.*
*(Author's Note: This is NOT a recommended solution to marital problems.)
"SANDI," said a horrified Quinn.
Added Jim, "TOM, WHAT THE HELL!?"
Tom punched Jim right in the mouth, then punched him in the groin.
"THAT'S FOR FUCKING MY WIFE, ASSHOLE!"
Sandi got up and then got right in her husband's face. "Tom, you jerk! I am shocked, appalled, disgusted...and I've never been more turned on!"
Tom, Jim and Quinn all responded in unison.
"WHAT!?"
Sandi smiled. "Tom, I thought you'd forgotten how much forceful men turn me on. Getting smacked just now made me even hornier than ever. I LOVE it rough."
Jim was the first to find his voice. "That's why we're here, Tom. Quinn and I booked you two a room. We were gonna call you, apologize in person for the threesome and pay for you two to stay the weekend and regain some of the old spark."
Tom now felt like an idiot. "So...you weren't here to have another threesome behind my back?"
"God, no," said Sandi, "What I did that night was the biggest mistake of my life, one I swear I'll NEVER make again."
"It was a spur-of-the-moment thing," Quinn explained, "and we've all been wishing it hadn't happened ever sense."
"Tom," said Jim, "Quinn and I are sorry we slept with your wife, and we swear it'll never happen again."
"Tom," said Sandi, "I'm sorry."
Tom sighed. "I'm sorry I always took you for granted. Look, from now on I'll make a real effort."
"Tom," said Sandi, "I swear that I'll never cheat on you again." She then grabbed Tom and kissed him passionately. "Let's go to the room. I want you to take me...hard!"
Tom loved the sound of that.
The bartender, who'd witnessed the whole thing, rolled his eyes. What a bunch of weirdos!
Casa Carbone, that evening...
Jim was sitting up in bed while Quinn was in the closet changing into her sleepwear.
"Man," said Jim, "that was one effed up afternoon."
"Tell me about it," said Quinn, "thanks for not fighting back when Tom attacked you."
"Hey, I had it coming," said Jim, "I nailed his wife, for chrissake!"
"Me too," said Quinn, "but I'm glad he didn't hit me."
"So am I," said Jim, "I don't think I could've kept from attacking him then."
"You think Tom and Sandi are gonna be okay," asked Quinn.
Jim nodded. "Yeah." After a pause, he spoke again. "I can't believe getting smacked actually turned Sandi on."
"Well," said Quinn, "given her bossy nature it's not really a surprise that Sandi likes rough sex. Her type usually likes a little pain with their pleasure."
"I'm happy with just pleasure," said Jim, "I've had enough pain for one day."
Quinn then emerged from the closet...in a naughty nurse costume.
"So, big boy," said Quinn in a sultry tone, "tell me where it hurts."
Jim was looking forward to this kind of medical attention.
LeGrande hotel, night...
Tom and Sandi were catching their breath after some rough sex. They both had scratches and bite marks on their bodies.
"That...was...incredible..." said Sandi.
"I aim to please," replied Tom, "and punish."
Sandi traced a finger down Tom's chest. "I looove how you punish me, master."
"I love being called master, bitch," replied Tom with a sly grin.
"You can call me bitch anytime," said Sandi in a sultry manner.
"Sandi," said Tom, "if you wanna have group sex again, let me know."
Sandi was puzzled. "You're okay with that."
"As long as I'm part of the group from now on," said Tom.
Sandi smiled. "I think we should try that in the future." She paused as she got an idea. "You know, that black escort with Sweet Daddy Jones was pretty hot."
Tom reached for his I-Phone. "Sweet Daddy, send up Tabu."
Sandi eagerly anticipated another threesome.
End Chapter.
Celebrity guest voices:
Sweet Daddy Jones: Snoop Dogg
Sweet Tabu: Beyonce Knowles
Stormy Spice: Victoria Beckham