- Joined
- 3 Jul 2017
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- AFL Club
- Port Adelaide
Upon entering the restroom I was greeted by the restroom attendant and purchased a packet of mints and cologne to help freshen up, but what tip percentage should I apply that will satisfy him whilst not denting my back pocket? I gave him a tenner, and told him to keep it, as I opened the cologne. My head jerked back as the odour assaulted my nostrils. I shot the attendant a sideways glance. He pretended to not notice my displeasure, so without taking my gaze off him I took $5 back from his tip jar.
Cologne not working, I'll have to trash the Juventus Soccer Club jumper, only wore it to impress, um, that Italian girl, um, what's her name? I’ve got it, it’s Margherita Mussolini and boy is she far more appealing and friendlier than my previous Italian fling, Brutto Maiale! Just picturing Brutto sent a visible shiver down my spine, but sometimes duty calls you to do things you'd rather not. Using the mirror I looked myself in the eye. "Time to get your sh!t together, and get on with the next part of the plan" I muttered a little too loudly to myself.
On the way back to my room, I was confronted by a stern looking fellow standing in front of my door. I recognised the posture, but not the man. A large man, well dressed, hands lightly clasped together at belt level. He looked like a bouncer guarding the velvet rope of the VIP section, in a high end nightclub.
The man said "John Wayne I presume? I'm your chauffer, to transfer you to the Carnival Dream Casino". Before I could respond, a high shrill was emitted submitting a response of yes, from a person who had eavesdropped on the conservation and once I swivelled my head, I noticed he shared many similar characteristics of yours truly. It was my gay cousin, Dwayne. Dwayne Wayne. He always claimed that weird kid in "A Different World" was named after him. Yeah, right! My cousin was 3 years old when that show debuted in 1987!
As we headed to the car, without Dwayne Wayne, the emotionless Italian chauffeur never spoke again. As I sat in the back seat of the black limousine with dark tinted windows and a fully stocked bar, my phone rang. Before I could answer, there was a sudden thud causing the phone to drop to the floor and the limousine was suddenly stationary. From the stolen Mercedes-Benz GLA, that just crashed into us, out jumped 2 masked men with machine guns, spraying the car with bullets. Luckily this was a bullet proof car. I instantly fell to the floor and managed to answer the phone.
It was her. She always knew the worst time to call! "Hi honey, I'm kind of busy right now" I said as calmly as I could muster. "What's that honey, 1 litre of milk and half a dozen eggs, got it". As I glanced upwards, I pleasantly noticed that the fully stocked Bar was still intact. But what the heck just happened? I quickly grabbed a bottle from the rack on the bar, and took a giant slug from it. I then took 3 "minibar" scotches and shoved them into my pocket. One thing was certain, trouble was coming, and it was coming quickly!
Just then, the driver's partition comes down and the babbling chauffeur starts apologizing for that bit of road rage that he caused. Saying something that he cut them off because he's not used to driving this car. Apparently it was recently purchased from the Vatican.
"Road rage??!!!" I roared at him "They just strafed us with machine guns!!!!" "The Boss will explain when you meet later tonight" the Chauffeur said. I wondered what the Boss wants from me? Finally arrived at the Casino. With time to kill, I reach for my wallet, but can't find it, all I found was a $5 note, where did that come from?
Cologne not working, I'll have to trash the Juventus Soccer Club jumper, only wore it to impress, um, that Italian girl, um, what's her name? I’ve got it, it’s Margherita Mussolini and boy is she far more appealing and friendlier than my previous Italian fling, Brutto Maiale! Just picturing Brutto sent a visible shiver down my spine, but sometimes duty calls you to do things you'd rather not. Using the mirror I looked myself in the eye. "Time to get your sh!t together, and get on with the next part of the plan" I muttered a little too loudly to myself.
On the way back to my room, I was confronted by a stern looking fellow standing in front of my door. I recognised the posture, but not the man. A large man, well dressed, hands lightly clasped together at belt level. He looked like a bouncer guarding the velvet rope of the VIP section, in a high end nightclub.
The man said "John Wayne I presume? I'm your chauffer, to transfer you to the Carnival Dream Casino". Before I could respond, a high shrill was emitted submitting a response of yes, from a person who had eavesdropped on the conservation and once I swivelled my head, I noticed he shared many similar characteristics of yours truly. It was my gay cousin, Dwayne. Dwayne Wayne. He always claimed that weird kid in "A Different World" was named after him. Yeah, right! My cousin was 3 years old when that show debuted in 1987!
As we headed to the car, without Dwayne Wayne, the emotionless Italian chauffeur never spoke again. As I sat in the back seat of the black limousine with dark tinted windows and a fully stocked bar, my phone rang. Before I could answer, there was a sudden thud causing the phone to drop to the floor and the limousine was suddenly stationary. From the stolen Mercedes-Benz GLA, that just crashed into us, out jumped 2 masked men with machine guns, spraying the car with bullets. Luckily this was a bullet proof car. I instantly fell to the floor and managed to answer the phone.
It was her. She always knew the worst time to call! "Hi honey, I'm kind of busy right now" I said as calmly as I could muster. "What's that honey, 1 litre of milk and half a dozen eggs, got it". As I glanced upwards, I pleasantly noticed that the fully stocked Bar was still intact. But what the heck just happened? I quickly grabbed a bottle from the rack on the bar, and took a giant slug from it. I then took 3 "minibar" scotches and shoved them into my pocket. One thing was certain, trouble was coming, and it was coming quickly!
Just then, the driver's partition comes down and the babbling chauffeur starts apologizing for that bit of road rage that he caused. Saying something that he cut them off because he's not used to driving this car. Apparently it was recently purchased from the Vatican.
"Road rage??!!!" I roared at him "They just strafed us with machine guns!!!!" "The Boss will explain when you meet later tonight" the Chauffeur said. I wondered what the Boss wants from me? Finally arrived at the Casino. With time to kill, I reach for my wallet, but can't find it, all I found was a $5 note, where did that come from?
