Our scene opens outside as the sun sets in Miami, Florida when...

Santos: Get the motherfucking shit ass fuck out of my fucking fuck dick... FUCK!

Shannon: Wait, what?

Tony exhales.

Santos: Out of my way! I need to drink and... just... dance!

Shannon: You're an idiot, Tone.

Tony raises his hand to Shannon's face.

Santos: Babe, in all honesty, I'm only gonna say this once. Take it for what it is. I know you are, but what am I?

That's right, I fucking just did that.

Shannon rolls her eyes as Tony barrels his way through the line leading to LaBare Florida, a, well, classy little joint just outside of Downtown Miami. Tony, blitzed off of some local brews at Wynwood Brewing Company, which, by the way, Tony finds to be "complete and utter swill," had hitched a ride with his lovely girlfriend Shannon over to this fine establishment, the backing of the Guatemalan cab driver that they drove along with to put their weight behind. Unfortunately, Tony managed to anger said cab driver, so...

Door man: Sir, your ID please.

Tony fumbles through his right back pocket, the Miami heat, even at this hour, still managing to discombobulate him. Pulling out his wallet, Tony slaps the wallet in to the doorman's chest. The door man, a man standing at 6'7" and a solid 260 pounds, along with a sour attitude, is not pleased. He holds out his bulky right hand, thumping Tony in the nose.

Door man: Sir, you're too intoxicated to come in here tonight. You have to go.

Tony smiles as he yanks his wallet back. Pulling out his ID, he thrusts it back in to the face of our lovely door man. Tony points at a heart symbol on the ID.

Santos: I'm an organ donor, you son of a bitch. Are you really going to deny an organ donor?

The door man stares down Tony for a mere second or two, but for Tony, this feels like a day.

Door man: Yes.

Tony's eyebrows drop, his face now a frown.

Santos: But, but, on my birthday?

Tony pouts as he slowly transfers the ID back in to his wallet, only to have it pulled from his grasp. The door man quickly glances at its face before jamming it in to Tony's chest.

Door man: This ID says April 25th.

Santos: Heh, really? That must be my fake. Damn, can you check it again? Does it say Michigan too? Is there a mustache plastered on my mug?

Tony attempts to once again hand the ID over, only to receive a swift forearm to the gut. A second, surprisingly larger employee walks over to the fracas and assists the door man in "gently" escorting a reckless Tony to the pavement. With their paws firmly grasping Tony's shoulders, they quickly transfer Tony away from the establishment, until...

Shannon: Wait! He's with me!

Shannon runs over to the two hulky pieces of man meat, her short, dark hair flailing behind, boobs bouncing, her curvy hips moving left and right like a pendulum. Shannon stops at the three men, placing a hand on each of the two employees. She smiles, her eyelashes fluttering as she lets her beauty do the talking.

She's played this game before.

Shannon: Gentlemen, this man is with me. Please excuse his behavior. When you grow up, your heart dies. He's a broken man, but he's my broken man. He means well, he just makes some, well, poor choices at times. Please don't let that stop us from enjoying a night out in our new city. We're from Boston. You know Boston, right?

The men nod, clearly entranced by the woman's looks.

Shannon: It's a hole, I'll tell you. We finally found the opportunity to leave that city, and we're now in paradise! Please, gentlemen, don't take that away from us, not on account of him. Plus, how many guys do you get in this place, anyway?

The men look at each other and raise their eyes in quiet agreement. Releasing their grasp of Tony, they part, making a path for Tony to pass back toward the club. Tony straightens his back and marches toward LaBare. In a passive act of defiance, Tony flails his hair back at the faces of the employees as he passes by. The door man responds with a swift boot to Tony's butt, jolting him forward.

Door man: He can go in as long as he sits in the corner like a good boy!

Upon hearing that, Tony stops. Shannon grabs Tony by his shirt, attempting to pull him toward the club. Tony releases her grasp as he does a complete 180° toward the masses of terror who could snap him in two in a matter of seconds.

Santos: Nobody puts baby in a corner, you fucks!

Shannon turns her head toward Tony, a look of utter befuddlement on her face. The two employees, not up for any more baiting from Mr. Santos, begin to march forward. Shannon, sensing that she needs to get Tony in to the club now before he faces a justified makeout session with a car muffler, smacks him on his right cheek, twirls him back toward the club, and guides him firmly toward the club, her right hand clenching on his belt buckle as if to say, "make another stupid comment and I'm only inches away from breaking your balls."

Shannon: You know, your voice is kind of nice when your mouth isn't screwing it up.

The scene fades to black.

September 2013 and May 2019 Star of the Month
1x Hart Champion
1x Television Champion
1x Xtreme Champion