Girl, I've officially reached sugar baby status! I know, I can't believe it! You saw the pics they sent, right? Yeah, but if that's really his house... and his car?! Then that's crazy! Right? Okay, priority number one is the baby trap-- That's him. Alright, wish me luck girl. Break a leg! Bye. When Charlivia walks out the front door, she sees a jet black Bugatti with an electric blue underglow. Sweet Jesus... A tall man wearing a bespoke suit and Chopard sunglasses steps out of the sports car.
Hello, Charlivia. Are you ready? Yes! I mean, yes, I am ready. Step right this way. She tries to take his arm, but he wrestles it from her quickly. Watch the suit--It's worth more than your goddamn college tuition! Sorry, I didn't mean to... Oh, relax, kitten. We all make mistakes. Yeah. Oh, such a gentleman. Well, you know, I didn't want your grubby mitts touching my door handle, so... She feels a sudden spike of anger. His attitude is completely uncalled for.
However, she grits her teeth and keeps her eyes on the prize. This opportunity may still be too good to pass up. No problem. I'll just get in then. Where would you like to eat? I don't know. Oh, why don't you pick? Surprise me. Hmm, how about Bawkers? Bawkers? What? Is there an echo in here? Yes, Bawkers. No, it's just... I thought maybe we could go somewhere nice, you know? Somewhere romantic. What's more romantic than BOGO-boneless wings? I guess. Seatbelt. Yeah. The ride is... quiet.
Charlivia feels as though she has no control of the situation and needs a new angle of attack. So, what's your real name? You should know. You swiped right on my kindler. Yeah, but... I'm not sure. I'm not sure. You should know. You swipe right on my kindler. Yeah, but come on. Doctor Medicine? Has anyone ever told you that name sounds kinda fake? Ha, says the girl named Charlivia. Alright, good point. Well, what do you do for a living, Doctor Medicine? Medical? Teaching?
If I told you I'd have to kill you. She he notices that he's not smiling or laughing and feels a sudden unease. They arrive at their destination, but before Doctor Medicine parks, someone steals his space. What an asshole. This won't do. It's okay. Let's just find another spot. No. I want this spot. He parks in front of the car that stole his spot, blocking it off. Don't look. Things are about to get... disproportionate. What the hell do you think you're doing? Move your car! Make me.
I will if you don't move your damn car. You can't fucking park there. I'll do whatever I want, and you'll like it, little man. Fine, pal. You wanna be a tough guy? Come on then! He swings, but the doctor grabs his wrist mid-attack. Suddenly, his arm begins to blacken and crack, until it's so brittle that it breaks off at the elbow and curdles to dust as it hits the pavement. Oh my God! Oh my God! Fuck my fucking arm! The rest of the body begins to decay the same. Oh my God! What is happening?
The doctor touches the dead man's car, which is also reduced to ash. Ah. There we go. How did... How did you do that? Do what, park? It's not that hard. But... you killed that guy. Oh, you seem stressed out. It's probably just hunger. We should go inside and grab a bite. They enter the restaurant. The seats are packed, and it's hard to hear their own thoughts over the sound of the rowdy customers and mounted televisions. A cheery-looking server approaches them. Just two? Yes, dear.
Okay. Right this way. Here are your menus. My name is Zoe, and I'll be your server tonight. Can I get you started with something to drink? Do you charge for fountain drinks? Yes, we do. Charlivia notices his eyebrow twitch. She begins to sweat nervously at the thought of what he might do to their poor server. We'll have water then. Alright. Two waters. Do you guys need anything else? Appetizers? Appetizers? Oh, I think not. Just fetch our waters and be quick about it.
Zoe leaves them, and they look at their menus. See anything you like? Um, uh, the Caesar salad looks good. No. You may get something off the BOGO menu. I'm getting 12 boneless wings, which means you can have 12 for free. She wonders how a man loaded as he is can be such a cheap skate, but she wouldn't dare ask him. No, at this point, her only objective is to survive the night.
Sure. Their server returns with their water, but as she's setting them up onto the table, one of them topples over and spills into Charlivia's lap. Ah! Oh no, I'm so sorry. I'll go get some paper towels. That's total bullshit! Are you okay? Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm okay. It's really just, it's just water. It's no big deal, really. Are you sure? I can teach her a lesson if you want. No! No, it's fine. Honest. Just don't do anything drastic.
Oh, it's no big deal. I just meant that I'd disintegrate her. That won't be necessary. It's totally chill. We can let her off the hook. I just don't want this to spoil her night. You know? Okay, sure. Whatever kitten wants. Here's the new water and some towels. I am so sorry. Oh, heh. And no worries. Accidents happen, right? Instead of saying sorry, you should be saying thank you. If not for her, you'd be nothing more than a smoldering heap of ash right now. What? Parmesan garlic!
Is the sauce on wings that I would like to order, please. 12 would be great. Okay. And for you? I'll take 12 of your molten hot Chernobyl wings and make them really hot. I want them to blister my nasal cavity when I smell them hit the table. I mean, I want the sauce to drip down and eat through the floor like how acid does in a cartoon. I want these wings to fuck me up bad.
I want them to put me into a coma for 10 years and when I wake up, I'm still spewing molten waste that would make Vesuvius blush. I want to die. I want this chicken to give me heatstroke and organ failure. And when my tongue touches them, my spine curls backwards and they have to make my coffin shaped like the letter C just so I can fit inside.
I want my insides to be so incendiary that Virgil takes Dante on a tour through them and the Nine Circles of Hell are actually the multitude of adhesions that will be lining my intestinal walls. I also want them spicy. Got it? Uh, yeah. 24 buy 1 get 1 boneless, half parm garlic, half Chernobyl sauce. Will that be all? Yes. I'll go ring those in right now. It shouldn't be long. 20 minutes pass, but their server is nowhere to be seen. Charlivia begins to sweat. Are you feeling cold? No. Why?
Because we must be nearing the heat death of the universe. The what? Since these wings are taking so goddamn long! Oh, I'm sure they'll be here soon. I'm enjoying your company anyway. Oh, I bet. Here's your food. I'm sorry that took so long. It got really busy all of a sudden. Finally! Emergency room here I come. Ha ha. Too eager to wait. He eats a boneless wing. What the hell? Is everything alright? Yes, everything is alright. That's the problem. These wings aren't spicy at all.
Is it the wrong sauce? Evidently. I'm sorry. I can get those replaced for you. So I can wait another hundred billion years? Ha ha. I think not. Tell your cook to come out here. I'd like to have a word with him. I can't really do that. Would you like to speak with a manager instead? Doctor Medicine gives Zoe a look so piercing that she caves into obedience. I'll see what I can do. I mean, I'll get the cook for you. One sec. What are you gonna do to them? Oh, you'll see.
You're not gonna do what you did in the parking lot, are you? Zoe returns, accompanied by a disheveled young man. This is the cook that made your wings. I'm Adam, sorry about your wings. It's just really busy right now, so... I don't remember asking for your excuses, boy. What? You know what? I don't remember asking for your attitude, Gramps! Adam! It's ungrateful customers like you that drive me crazy. Do you have any idea how hard my day has been?
No. All you people ever do is suck down chicken like a bunch of mindless animals, and then bitch and moan if everything isn't perfect. You're not supposed to talk to customers like that! I'm not supposed to talk to customers, period. So why the hell is this guy wasting my time? Go back to the kitchen. You're a kitchen! Leave! Oh my god, I am so sorry. No, I'm not going anywhere. This old douchebag wanted me. Well, here I am.
Doctor Medicine stands, a sinister smile creeping up on his face as he towers over the cook. Sure, Olivia begins to panic. She has to find a way to save his life. Thinking fast, she stands between them. You have any idea how long we waited for those wings? No. 20 minutes! The wait time says it takes 10, and then they have the wrong sauce. Seriously? A monkey could do your job. Not to mention you insulted my date. How dare a busted up rookie like you talk down to a high-value man like him?
He probably earns more in a year than you will in your lifetime, you mud person. 10 minutes! Do you even know how to count to 10? Look how many fingers I have on this hand. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5! So two of those! That's 10. Get it now? Well? You're mean! Whoa. Oh, you want some too? No thanks. Then beat it! My, my, what a night. I suppose it's about time to leave. Uh, yeah. Let's get out of here.
And so, Charlivia successfully saved the lives of the restaurant workers, though they may never see it that way. Doctor Medicine drives her back home, but before he lets her out of the car... Look, Charlivia, about our date tonight. I'm not sure that you're what I'm looking for in a partner. Your outburst at the restaurant was a bit much, and I think you may have some anger issues you should work through with some therapy or something. I honestly think it's best if we part ways here.
It's nothing personal. I just feel that we aren't the best fit for each other. I don't have any ill will towards you, and I hope you understand. I just can't be around that kind of toxicity. Charlivia's stunned. He gets out and opens the car door for her. She slowly walks to her house. Dumbfounded. Trying to baby trap me? Ha!