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X-treme Wrestling Federation » XWF Live! » Character Development RPs
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The Inglorious Basterd
Author Message
Thaddeus Duke Offline
Lionhearted
Management Lv. 2


WWW

XWF FanBase:
Some of everyone

(cheered; very rarely plays dirty but isn't lame either; many likable qualities)


#1
08-02-2022, 11:01 AM

OOC Note: First and foremost, I want to apologize to my teammates, my opponents and the XWF as a whole. It’s unlike me to not fulfill an obligation. In writing this story I’d taken a little break to consider how to bring it to a close and when I did so, fell asleep and missed deadline. I’d considered just dumping this in the trash but someone asked me to finish it and post it so that’s what I’m doing. There were certain things that for the sake of time and the sake of 3k limit that I wasn’t going to be able to do but now that time and limits no longer apply I’ve decided to tell this story in the way I had originally wanted to.

In German. And in full, perhaps expanded some.

If you hover over the German spoken text, it will give you the English translation.


Berlin, Germany – 1943




Wearing my dress military trousers and a white collared shirt and tie, I run a comb through my hair. The reflection of what I see in the mirror attached to the wall sickens me to no end as I reach to my right and place the dress Schutzstaffel jacket with it’s various medals and insignia over my shoulders.

You can say whatever you want about the Germans of the era, but they sure had a particular style in which they dressed. I look good in the uniform, there’s no doubt about that. However being the man dressed in this particular regalia chills me to the bone.

What I’m doing and why I’m here in Germany during this time period is not a mystery to me. My grandfathers Illuminatus rose to prominence here and stole international headlines. I was 15 years old and at the time, all I wanted was to desperately gain the approval of he and my father. I did things here that I won’t mention in great detail. None of it good, and all of it horrific. Point blank execution of insurgents without due process. The imprisonment and attempted elimination of Catholic worshipers. A 15 year old hellbent on gaining approval was a reign of terror on the German people. Grandfather was proud. My father on the other hand, never gave a damn about anything I did, good or bad.

15 year old me though, isn’t the same person as 23 year old me.

I know the task I have before me. I know its importance and significance. I’m a man that has in the past prided myself on nerves of steel and an unshakable resolve. I don’t live that life anymore. All I wanted was for my children to grow up without the constant threat of war and death hanging over their beautiful little heads. They don’t deserve to live a life chosen for them by my predecessors and they most certainly do not deserve a life chosen for them by men in suits in power corridors all over the world.

So why am I here?

Before I could answer my thought, I hear a knock at my door. It startles me out of my own head.

”Wer ist es?” I ask in native German.

Receiving no reply, I step away from the mirror and grab the leather SS trench coat and swing it over my shoulders. As a precaution, I straighten up and grab that stupid hat with its equally stupid SS skull and crossbones emblem. Holding my hat in hand I open the door. Much to my surprise and my chagrin, my wife stands in the doorway. She shoves me backwards inside my room and closes the door behind her before kissing me all over.

”What the hell are you doing here!?” I ask as I forcefully stop her advances. ”We shouldn’t be seen together here,” I remind her.

”It was a risk I needed to take,” she says before eyeballing me up and down. ”Jesus fuck you’re hot as hell in that uniform.”

”Really?” I ask, momentarily forgetting myself.

”Yeah, it’s a little bit disturbing actually,” she admits.

The plan is a simple one. It’s one we’ve perfected for days. My beautiful wife uses her feminine wiles to seduce an SS Soldier, while I, posing as a fellow SS Soldier named ‘Wilhelm Kaiser’ (clever, I know) stumbles upon them and I… eliminate said soldier. Admittedly, this plan was inspired by the Dutch Resistance in which young looking or teenage girls would seduce NAZI soldiers and lure them into the woods to be shot. We’ve been in 1943 Germany for five days. We’ve successfully eliminated no less than 13 SS men on our way to Berlin. It’s a small number to be sure, but Rome wasn’t built in a day, as they say.

After ‘relating’ with my wife, it was time for us to set out. Like clockwork, every day the SS soldiers stationed in and around Berlin all congregate at the pubs and eateries. As we exited my room, we’re greeted by a man coming down the hall. His name is Hans Bauer. Hans has buddied up to me since our chance meeting two nights ago.

Lauren, named ‘Ava Koch’ here, continues on down the hall.

"Hallo Wilhelm,” he stops near me. "Ich habe das schon mal gesehen," he says of Lauren. "Mit dir meine ich."

"Ja," I say with a slight smile as we start down the hall.

"Das gefällt dir, ja?" he asks. "Vielleicht ein paar Hochzeitsglocken, wenn der Krieg gewonnen ist?"

"Sie ist eine Prostituierte," I say as Hans stops in his tracks.

"Wirklich?" he asks as he hurries to catch up.

"Ein SS-Mann wie ich kann keinen Nuttenhans heiraten," I say to him as we exit the building and start down the street. "Was würde der Führer denken?"

During dinner with Hans, I keep a watchful eye on my wife. She’s the toast of any establishment with her platinum blonde hair, ample chest and incredibly bubbly personality. I wouldn’t have imagined she’d like this time period or this country but she fits in here like a condom. One thing about Lauren is she loves attention. Here, she gets it in spades. She’s the perfect distraction from years of a pointless war that these idiots all firmly believe they’ll win because they also firmly believe they’re right and just and all of their problems stemming from Germany’s defeat in the Great War was “because Jews” and had absolutely nothing to do with their unwarranted aggression against neighboring nations.

Of course, I’m being sarcastic.

Hans is a nice enough guy. Out of context of what side of the war he’s on and the atrocities his people have and are committing all over Europe, I might actually like him. He reminds me a lot of James, if I’m being honest. Our first night in Berlin, he drank too much and opened up. He wondered what it was all for and if Hitler really had Germany’s best interest at heart. Then he fell quiet for a few minutes and it was just he and I drinking alone in the hallway in our dormitory. Looking at him, I noticed the moisture on his eyes in the dim light.

"Weißt du, was wir tun?" he asked of me causing me to look him in the eyes. "In den Lagern, meine ich."

"Ja," I answered him quietly.

"Auch die Kinder," he said to me with obvious guilt on his conscience.

When he said that I think back to a documentary I watched for the answer. I can’t remember who said it, maybe Adolf Eichmann.

"Warum die älteren Generationen ausrotten?" I posed him hypothetically. "Und es den jüngeren Generationen überlassen, das Rennen neu zu bevölkern?"

In all the years I’ve studied Germany and the second world war, I always wondered how they could just abide by it. I wondered how they could justify their cruelty by saying “I was just following orders.” It caused me great introspection. I don’t often think about my teenage years and mostly, I try to forget they exist. I try to forget a lot of things that happened throughout my life but sometimes, it just sneaks up on me. For the first time really ever, I thought about my time as war commander for my grandfather. I thought about the ‘churches’ I was building at the isolation camps. I asked myself how I could be so fucking heartless. I’m thankful now that my grand idea, aside from a demonstration, was never put into practice. Even still, I know what I wanted to do, or at least, what I thought I wanted to do.

Like the Jewish people and Germany, the Catholic faith was guilty of no crimes against me, my family, or my state. Like the Nazi's in Germany, the Illuminatus was also built on a lie. Nevertheless, I wanted to make them pay and for that. For as long as I live, I’ll never forgive myself. I spent the last several years trying to be the exact opposite of my father. He was cold and uncaring while I was warm, loving, accepting, sympathetic, empathetic. I realize now, I was never at war with who my father was when he was alive. Instead, I was at war with myself. Those teen years that Doc D’Ville tried in vain to pull out of me, that was the coldest, most heartless bastard I ever knew. The only thing I gave a damn about in those days, was that I inflicted myself on those I didn’t like. That’s not the me of 2022, but it’s still a part of what made me what I eventually became.

Hans has no particular table manners. He talks with his mouth full and it’s kind of gross and very much distracting. Though I try hard to listen to him talk while keeping an eye on Lauren. Across the room, I see a fellow soldier lean down and kiss her hand.

Target acquired.

She laughs, and giggles. He smiles, thinking his charm is wooing this beautiful mystery woman.

"Hast du die Neuigkeiten gehört?" Hans asks of me as I watch things unfold over his shoulder.

"Was für Neuigkeiten hören?" I ask in response.

"Der Führer kommt nach Hause," he says with a smile on his face.

"Wen interessiert das?"

Hans continues on, telling me how Adolf Hitler had been at what has become known as the Eagle’s Nest for the last month.

"Er kommt nicht allein nach Hause," Hans continues.

"Wer kommt mit ihm?" I ask, trying to sound as if I’m excited at the news.

"Der Reichsführer," he replies.

I stare at him straight faced and expressionless.

"Heinrich Himmler,” he clarifies.

At once my mind wanders. I start to consider the what if’s and if I have the ability to do something that might change the course of history. Eliminating SS soldiers is one thing. But eliminating from the world equation someone so influential and powerful as Heinrich Himmler? The architect of the biggest mass murder in known history? To make things even more complicated, what if I killed Adolf Hitler?

From an outsiders perspective, it’s easy to say “hell yeah, kill the mother fucker!” Knowing history the way I do, Adolf Hitler survived several assassination attempts. Though it is 1943 and the thought of Hermann Gohring leading the Third Reich is an intriguing one. It’s certainly not because Gohring was a good person, he wasn’t. But had Hitler been killed during the height of the Third Reich and Gohring ascended to Fuhrer, then perhaps the genocide might have ended. Despite relaying orders about the Final Solution, Gohring really wasn’t all that anti-Semitic. His closest deputy had a Jewish parent.

Though Gohring wasn’t so popular. Had he ascended to supreme leader, he probably would’ve been killed. The infighting though, that was so prevalent within the Nazi leadership, might’ve even caused a collapse from within. With Hitler out of the way, most within the High Command would have wanted to see themselves at the top of the mountain. The distractions from within might well have brought the second world war to a quicker conclusion. At least in Europe.

”Wilhelm,” Hans cries out, startling me out of my head space. "Ich sagte, wenn du willst, würde ich sehen, ob..."

Hans continues talking, but I stopped listening. Peering over his shoulder, I noticed my wife and that SS soldier are no longer within the establishment. Grabbing my hat, I put it on my head as I stand up quickly.

"Wo gehst du hin?" Hans asks.

"Ich bin in ein paar Minuten zurück," I answer him as I pull on my leather SS trench coat. "Ich muss mich um etwas kümmern."

Without another word, I rush out of the establishment. On the street, I look in both directions and can see no sign of my wife. With my heart racing, I hear a laugh that sounds like hers. Rushing in that direction, I’m careful not to run. I don’t want to seem conspicuous. Turning left into an alleyway, there’s nothing and no one and I can only assume I only thought I heard her laugh. With worry growing in my gut, I look around with futility. Not knowing what way to go I kind of stand there stupefied for a moment or two before I hear what was definitely my wife’s voice. Still in the alley, I look up toward the sound of her voice to see the SS soldier close an upstairs window in the dormitory beside me. Quickly, I make my way to the back of the building and push through the door. Up the steps I go, taking two and three at a time.

”No!” I hear her yell in English.

”Lauren!” I call out, risking blowing my cover. Though I don’t care at this point. My wife’s health and safety are of paramount importance and I will not risk her being harmed for the sake of this mission. Up the steps, I can hear the man.

"Komm Hure," he says from up the hallway. "Ich bin ein großzügiger Liebhaber."

Bursting through the door, his pants are down at his ankles and her clothes are torn from her body, exposing her breasts and what I playfully refer to as ‘paradise’ in our normal life. She struggles to cover herself as the man is seemingly unaware that I’ve burst into the room. With his naked ass in the air he tries to forcefully spread her legs.

"Das ist genug," I say aloud with my hand on the butt of my Luger.

The man looks back at me as he forces Lauren’s left leg upward.

"Warte bis du an der Reihe bist," he barks as he reaches between his or her legs, I’m not sure which.

Pulling my pistol, I pull back the hammer and place the barrel against the back of his head. The man stops dead.

"Was hast du nur mit dieser Waffe vor?" he asks.

"Mach weiter und finde heraus," I answer him. ”You okay Babydoll?” I ask, raising my eyes to my wife.

”Yes!” she exclaims. ”Where the hell have you been!?”

”I’m sorry, I was distracted,” I answer.

"Spione!" yells the man at the revelation of our speaking English to one another.

Without warning, the man sends his still booted foot into my formerly injured right knee. Searing pain shoots from the old injury and I stumble backward as the man rolls off of Lauren. Quickly, she retreats off the bed to the floor. The SS soldier bends to pull up his pants and that’s when I spring to action by pistol whipping him in the side of his head. He drops face first to the floor and is groggy but still conscious. He attempts to roll over and I help him do it with my left foot.

Looking up at me, the man reaches for his pistol that’s near his knee. Not allowing him to grab it, I plant my right boot against his wrist, pinning it to the floor as he yelps out in pain.

"Wie heißen Sie?" I ask of him. Looking at me, he doesn’t answer. Instead, he spits. Once again, I pull back the hammer on the Luger then repeat the question. "Wie ist Ihr Name, Soldat?"

”Gunter Schmidt,” he answers. "Sie sind amerikanische Spione."

"Wir sind vieles," I tell the man before firing a round into his still exposed groin. He yelps, writhes, and cries out in pain as blood pumps from his wound while I step off his wrist. Naturally, his hands grip and try to soothe his immense pain.

"Wir sind Zeitspringer, Gunter," I begin to tell him. "Wir sind verheiratet und unsterblich verliebt."

Kneeling down, I straddle the mans chest with my Luger pressed against his head. Leaning my face toward his ear, I lower my voice to a whisper. "Und in ein paar Tagen, Gunter, bringe ich den Reichsführer um."

His eyes grow wide at the statement and that’s the way they stay as I pull the trigger and end the life of my wife’s attempted rapist. One thing I learned in this part of the world during this period, is that people minded their own business. I guess they’d have to in order to willfully ignore the truth of what was going on. Either no one noticed the commotion, or they turned a blind eye to it. No one came running. No one knocked. No one later on asked about the noise or the gunfire.

Lauren and I wrapped the man in towels and blankets before we cleaned the place up. After night fell on the German capital, under the cover of darkness we quietly carried the man to a truck outside that I “borrowed” an hour or so earlier. Her and I together, removed any trace of the SS from him and disposed of Gunter’s naked corpse in the Spree River before burning his blood soaked uniform. His arm band, like the thirteen before him, I kept as a memento.

With the dirty deeds completed for the night, her and I sit on the tailgate of the Mercedes pickup truck. As the fire dies, she leans her head against me and I hold her tight.

”Today was too close for comfort,” I tell her. She agrees with a nod of her head. ”We got a different plan now.”

”What’s the plan?” she asks.

”Hans told me that the Nazi leadership is on their way back to Berlin,” I begin. ”I think I want to kill Heinrich Himmler,” I tell her and she peels herself from my shoulder and looks at me.

”His name’s Hitler,” she mistakenly corrects me. For a moment, I don’t say anything as a slight smile creases my face. ”I’m right!” she insists.

”Babydoll,” I begin, but she cuts me off.

”No look!” she protests. ”I’ll prove it,” she says as she retrieves her cell phone.

Yes.

Her cellphone.

In 1943.

”What the...”

Wait for it, Thad. WAIT. FOR. IT.

”Germany has shitty WiFi...”

Feverishly she tries to load Google on her phone. Rather than make her feel like an idiot, I just let her keep going in hopes that she’ll come to realization of her brain fart on her own.

”Oh my God,” she says with a dejected sigh after a few more clicks. She shuts her phone off and lays it on the bed surface. ”It’s 1943,” she says quietly, almost to herself.

”I was gonna say something,” I say to her as she leans back against me. ”But I didn’t wanna make you feel...”

”Stupid,” she completes my sentence.

”Yeah,” I agree.

”You can be a sweet man sometimes, Thad,” she says as she pulls me back against the truck bed.

”Hitler and Himmler are two different people,” I remind her.

”Oh,” she says as she cuddles up next to me. ”Yeah I knew that.”

”I know Babydoll,” I say quietly as she drifts off to sleep.

The next day I unveiled my new plan. The fact she was nearly raped just makes my skin crawl and as I told her, that was way too close for comfort. The new plan is even more dangerous but it doesn’t involve any personal violation. With Hitler and Himmler due back in Berlin in a few days, there was very little time to properly prepare.

”Give me a gun, I can help you,” Lauren argued more than once. Of course, I’m always reluctant to do so. As her husband, my first priority is and always will be to keep her and our children safe. My reluctance to let her aid me though is unfounded. The night I was intent on eliminating Frankie’s father from the equation and we came under attack from her enemies, she showed up. She shot me by accident, but she showed up and made sure I lived to see the next day. Near the end of the war with the Ares Project, it was her that ended the life of Lincoln Tritter, and why did she do it? Because he conspired with my enemies to hijack my plane and kill Frankie. Neither Lauren nor I are perfect people. That showed me a lot of who she truly is beneath it all. A warm, caring, loving woman that will protect our empire and make no mistake about it, Francis Robert Duke is a big part of that empire.

While I was reluctant, I felt I had no other choice. One gun? I might get lucky and down one of them. With two guns? We might just decapitate the head of the Nazi regime after all. We spent the next two days running her through the paces and giving her a crash course in sniper fire. I’m a student of history. While there’s no book depositories on the parade route, and this is clearly not Dallas, Texas, there are a number of high rise buildings from which to enact perhaps the most noble of assassination attempts.

As a happily married husband and wife team of time traveling assassins, any time she showed marked improvement in her accuracy, she was rewarded by her husband. One big thing we have in common is our insatiable appetite for one another. And I need not explain that any further.

She works really hard when she cares about something. It’s why in a short amount of time she became the best wife and an incredible mother to our son and the twins. Every day she proves how much she loves me and this was no different. With each lesson, she got incrementally better than the last. In this time and in this part of the world, we’re all we have and I don’t hesitate to say that it’s brought us even closer together than we were previously.

The night before, we set up two snipers nests across the street from each other. Still posing as SS soldier Wilhelm Kaiser, it was easy to just evict the inhabitants. No civilian in Germany dared argue with an SS man. I’d see her clearly and she’d see me. The nests were simple. We don’t need to survive, we only need to to accomplish the task at hand. Concealing us from view were nothing but a pair of hanging plant baskets. If the SS returned fire quickly, we’d have a couple seconds to react and maybe get off another shot before they spotted the barrels protruding from behind the baskets.

The morning the Nazi leadership was set to return, we spent nearly all of our time reacquainting ourselves with each other. Berlin won’t rock that hard until the Allies starts shelling the German capital… if that still happens. At noon, it was time for SS formation along the parade route. I’d join Hans there for a little while before retreating to my nest.

”Heil Hitler!” Hans exclaims excitedly as I step into formation beside him on the sidewalk.

”Heil Hitler,” I reply with a lack of enthusiasm as we exchange the ridiculous salute to a fucking mad man.

"Habe ich es dir nicht gesagt?" Hans asks with a smile. "Ich habe ein paar Fäden gezogen und dich neben mich gestellt."

I like this kid. He’s around my age, maybe just a little older. His naivete though, will get him killed. For what it’s worth, outside of the ardent support of the Nazi regime, he’s very much a kind and decent person. It makes me wonder how he ever qualified for Himmler’s Schutzstaffel. The SS is filled with the most hardened and cold of German warriors. Hans just doesn’t fit that bill. At least not from what I’ve seen.

"Ja, ich bin dankbar," I reply to him while faking a smile. Off in the distance, I hear a resounding blast as the parade comes nearer. With my face contorted in a look of confusion, Hans looks at me and smiles.

BOOM!

"Erste Parade?" he asks. To which, I only nod. "SS-Panzerdivision," he informs me.

"Sie feuern die Kanonen einfach durch die ganze Stadt?" I ask of him.

BOOM!

"Nur leere Muscheln," he says as three or four blocks down the street, the first tank rounds the corner and comes into view. It stops, then fires to roaring approval of the German civilians along the route.

BOOM!

"Hans ich bin gleich wieder da," I say as I excuse myself.

"Wo gehst du hin?" he asks as he grabs my arm.

BOOM!

"Ich habe heute Morgen zu viel Kaffee getrunken," I reply. "Ich muss mich erleichtern."

"Beeilen Sie sich dann zurück," he says as he lets go. "Ich möchte nicht, dass Sie den Führer vermissen!"

"Oh, ich werde ihn nicht vermissen," I say while taking a quick glance up at my wife before hurrying inside the building.

BOOM!

Quickly I head upstairs and into my room, barricading it closed. Scrambling to the telephone, I call my wife’s room across the street.

”What’s up Baby? They’re coming.”

BOOM!

”Use the cover of tank fire for our fire,” I say quickly. ”The blasts come after they stop about every ten or so seconds. After the tanks stop, you’ll hear a low winding sound followed by a blast about two seconds later.”

”You’re so hot when you’re smart,” she says.

BOOM!

”So remember, when you hear the winding. 1… 2… fire.”

Hurrying to the window to ready my rifle, I kneel down against the sash. Looking across at Lauren, she smiles and flashes me the ‘I love you’ hand gesture. Returning the smile and the gesture as the first tank is below us, the building rocks on its foundation at the blast.

BOOM!

Behind the tank, walks Adolf Hitler, Heinrich Himmler and some other key figures. Just before each blast, the Nazi High Command salutes the civilians.

BOOM!

Allowing them to march up the street for a better firing angle, I nod to Lauren, signaling her to ready herself.

BOOM!

Now in position, the parade stops.

BOOM!

Her shot misses, but no one is the wiser as the parade continues.

BOOM!

Her shot hits Heinrich Himmler in the head. The front tank continues on as a frenzy ensues.

BOOM!

Down goes the Fuhrer. My shot takes him right through his eye just as he was about to scramble for cover. No one returns fire. One can only assume they’re shocked and stunned that two of the biggest criminal minds in history were just gunned down in broad daylight. Still peering out the window, I see Hans looking up at me with a worried look on his face. Amid the commotion in the street and the civilians running away from the parade route, I make my way out of the building to street level.

Hans grabs me by my wrist as I attempt to walk passed him. "Was hast du getan!?" he asked in a serious but hushed tone.

"Ich habe der Welt gerade einen Gefallen getan," I reply as I yank my wrist from his grip.

"Sie werden dich dafür töten," he warns me.

”Ja,” I agree. "Aber jemand musste es tun."

Without another word, I take my leave from Hans and cross the street. Inside the building, I casually make my way up the steps to Lauren’s room. With the street frantic, we lay in wait. We could just as easily off ourselves and wake up later back at home in 2022 where we belong. A much larger part of me is curious to see this thing play out.

Two days. It took them two days to track us down. In the meantime we crisscrossed around Berlin living the life because what else would we do? Unfortunately, Hans Bauer was caught up in all of it. He was the one that ratted us out as any “good” German soldier might. I don’t fault him for that. The trouble for him came when they named him a co-conspirator for not killing me when he had the chance. The world will never know what might have been if any one of the assassination attempts on the life of Adolf Hitler had been successful. While this was a resounding success, it changes nothing about the world around us. This is, after all, nothing more than a simulation concocted by Mastermind. Though it doesn’t ever stop us from wondering “what if?”

Our executions were presided over by the new Fuhrer of the German Reich, Hermann Gohring. Being a former flyboy myself, it’s almost poetic that he’s the man sending me to my 1943 death.

"Irgendwelche letzten Worte Verräter?" Gohring asks of Hans as the noose is placed around his neck.

Hans looks at me and at Lauren, known to him only as Ava Koch.

"Die Welt mag freundlich auf euch schauen, meine Freunde," he says. "Ich werde nicht."

The executioner places the hood over his head.

”Wilhelm Kaiser,” Gohring chuckles as he looks at me. "Clever."

I agree.

"Irgendwelche letzten Worte?"

"Beende den Völkermord, mein Führer," I tell him. "Wenn nicht, wird Deutschland zerstört und das Großdeutsche Reich wird zusammenbrechen."

Gohring stares at me straight faced.

"In zwei Jahren gewinnen die Alliierten den Krieg. Gegen Ende versteckte sich Hitler im Führerbunker. Das Land wäre in völliger Unordnung und Sie hätten einen Brief geschickt, in dem Sie Hitler gefragt hätten, ob er noch die Kontrolle hätte. Sie würden ihm in diesem Brief sagen, dass Sie das Kommando übernehmen würden, wenn Sie nichts von ihm hören würden."

He continues to stare at me like he’s seeing a ghost.

"Das würde ihn erzürnen," I continue on. "Er würde Ihre Hinrichtung wegen Hochverrats anordnen. Es würde jedoch nie durchschaut werden. Du würdest 1946 durch eine Zyanidkapsel sterben, während du auf deine eigene Erhängung wartest."

Gohring stares at me blankly for a few moments before nodding at the executioner who covers my head. The new German Chancellor steps toward Lauren.

"Und Sie, Frau Koch?" he asks of her.

”Oh my God, my name is Lauren for fucks sake!” she exclaims. ”No I don’t have anything else to say. Your WiFi fucking sucks so just send me home.”

”I love you Babydoll,” I tell her. I’d hold her hand but our hands are tied behind our backs.

”Love you too,” she replies. ”Hey, can we go to dinner when we wake up?”

”Sure,” I answer her. ”Italian or steak?”

”Mmmm, steak,” she answers.

Three neck snaps in unison.




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Semi-Retired


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