This is humor. Maybe I should capitalize it all so that you understand.
H U M O R
Edited (added a little more, too) on April 26th, 2007.
Give A Man A Drink
By: Kitten Kisses
Give a man a drink…
And he'll be drunk for a day.
Teach a man to drink…
And he'll be drunk every day for the rest of his life.
He was thirsty. He let his blue eyes look around the small quarters that he had called home for two whole beautiful hours. He was on the Train, a machine that connected most of the major (and a few not-so major) cities on the combined worlds of Sylvarant and Tethe'alla.
But the long trip was spent mostly in silence… He was on his way to Iselia to visit with his former companions, but he hadn't really prepared for a trip of total boredom. There were still two-and-a-half hours until the Train reached its destination, and now, Regal Bryant had determined that his dry, crusty mouth needed some kind of watery substance.
Almost as if on cue, a knock sounded on his door.
"Yes?" he called out, his voice dull from what felt like years of non-use.
"Uhh…sir," someone answered, her tone uncertain. "I hope things have been fine for you so far… Could I get you anything?"
Regal mentally hooted in triumph! Finally! A way to clear out his crusty mouth! "Yes, please. May I get a drink?"
"Certainly sir!" The woman seemed only too happy to comply. A few moments later, she opened his door, sliding in a tray with one single glass on it.
His eyes widened at the sight of the beautiful clear glass, full of liquid. It seemed like an eternity before his hands came in contact with the smooth, cool surface.
It was almost like an oasis in the desert! Such a sight for sore eyes! For a moment, he was tempted to lick the moisture off the side of the glass, until he remembered what Lloyd had called it:
"Regal! Why're you drinking that? That's so gross! Don't you know that that's glass sweat?"
He sighed, nearly smacking himself in the face. He knew perfectly well that glasses didn't perspire! Then again… He grimaced, almost expecting the taste of salt in his mouth as his touched emerged from his mouth to move down the glass in one smooth, fluid motion.
How was he supposed to not be tempted to drink that entire glass in one gulp, if just the sweat felt so good on his tongue? Tipping his head back, he downed the contents of the goblet, wiping his mouth afterwards with a dainty little napkin sitting on the tray.
He had wanted to drink it slowly, so that it would last the duration of the trip, but that was just too bad. His guts sighed in contentment, almost as if Martel herself had given his inner workings a nice massage.
Sighing heavily, he reclined in his chair… 'Speaking of massages', he thought to himself, 'I could really use a woman right now…'
Just then, he felt a slight pressure at the back of his head. Ahh, he was thirsty again! If he didn't get another drink soon, he'd most likely die of dehydration! He pushed a bell sitting on the small table beside him.
Not even five seconds later, the woman who had given him his drink was at his door. "What can I get for you, Sir?" she asked.
"Another drink…" he replied, resisting the urge to prop his feet up. "No, make that two. Or three."
Within minutes, he had his drinks. Smiling happily at the three little glasses (who were all starting to perspire), he tried to decide which one he should drink, first. After twelve seconds- he had his answer.
Grabbing all three, he poured them down his throat simultaneously.
"Mmm.. isch's good." He grinned widely, his mouth dry again. Tilting his head to the side, he hiccupped. "Whoopsies!" he giggled softly, covering his mouth quickly. The room had begun to look…weird. Was that five paintings he saw, or ten, or twenty? He wasn't sure at all.
After a few minutes of silence, his hand came down on the bell, nearly smashing it with his fist. "More drinks, ple'as!" he shouted, his tone almost what you could call giddy.
The tired woman returned. "How many this time, Sir?"
"All of 'em!" he answered her, rocking back and forth in his chair. In his mind, he was riding a rocking horse. Or a woman, whatever.
They were the same thing, right? His mind formed an image of a woman's body with a horse's head.
Yeah, perfectly normal.
"Sir, do you have any…friends in there?" the woman questioned, suspecting that perhaps someone had snuck on board.
"Uhm…" he thought, pulling out a mirror. "Yesh. There are… one…five…seven… Seven of ush!" His face beaming, he put the mirror on the floor. "Drinksh, please!"
The woman sighed, annoyed, but put a tray through his door with a lot of glasses on it. Regal wasn't sure if he wanted to try and count! The number seemed to keep changing…
For five milliseconds, Regal contemplated giving the woman a tip for her wonderful super-service! But… nah. He was Regal Bryant! The only President of the only company in the world! Not to mention, he was a monopoly. Life was grand! Besides, this woman had already been thanked for her service- by being able to buy the goods produced in his company, probably by alien slaves, but nobody really knows that (or maybe they just haven't been able to prove it, yet).
Grinning again, he downed glass after glass, losing count after the fourth. Or was that the fourteenth?
Either way, his singing drowned out all intelligent thoughts. Like numbers, or counting, or anything that wasn't stupid.
About an hour later, Regal was starting to get annoyed.
"The antsh go march'n a-hunred-an-twenty-six bah a-hunred-an-twenty-sixsh, hurrah! HURRAH! The antsh go march'n a-hunred-an-twenty-six bah a-hunred-an-twenty-sixsh, hurrah! HURRAH! The antsh go march'n a-hunred-an-twenty-six bah a-hunred-an-twenty-sixsh, the lastsh one stopped to fight a tick…and dey all goo march'n downsh, in le groundsh…to get outsh…of dee raiiin!"
Those stupid screams in the background were ruining his song! Between verses, he stopped to listen.
"Help! Help! The Train's being held up!" a young woman screamed, her footsteps making loud slapping noises against the floor.
An idea popped into his head. If he saved the Train, then maybe a girl (or ten) would fall in love with him, and he could get laid! Err…married…yeah.
He could be as good of a pimp as Zelos- and he wasn't even a Chosen!
He put his best pimp-grin on, slamming the door open while yelling "Regal to deh rescue!". His door collided with something squishy and soft. Looking over, he noticed it was a man…well, more like a cave-man, but to Regal, he was a very handsome, clean-cut guy. "Oh…sc'use meh," he mumbled, hauling the guy to his feet, noticing the broadsword that hung at the man's side. "Are you holdin' up deh Train?" he asked, a little drool pooling at the corner of his mouth.
The criminal gaped at the man that stood in front of him. He had…a mullet! "Oh…oh my God!" he shouted, pointing at the mullet.
"Yesh, dat's me. What can I do for you?"
The man stuttered, staring at the blue mullet that looked almost as if a bird had built a nest in it.
"Oh, you wanna mullet too?" Regal asked him, patting his own head. "Dey're sexah, hmm? Attract girls, too." He grinned, and then paused, cocking his head to the side. "You're not a girl, are you?"
The man rolled his eyes. "No, stupid."
"Didn't think so, but you can nevah be schure." He shook his head, and started to head off down the corridor, poking his head into random people's rooms (and getting insanely jealous at the amount of couples that were doing things that he would have given his left nut…well, not that, but maybe a few dollars, to do).
Every single stupid room seemed to have couples that were doing things that made him hot. He didn't even notice as the security guards pounced on the criminal behind him.
At the stop for Iselia, Regal darted from the Train, going straight to the place where he knew the largest group of people would be…
Raine Sage sighed. It could be dreadfully boring to grade papers, especially papers written by the ditzy Colette- why had that girl written about puppies, again, when the assignment was about geography?! Or the silly Lloyd- who had written about how evil tomatoes were.
Wasn't this supposed to be Senior-class material?
She felt like smashing her face into her desk, but didn't want to look insane in front of her class full of students- who had just returned from recess, and were busy screaming at the top of their lungs. She felt like marking big fat F's on all their papers…for the rest of the year.
"Shut up!" she yelled, slamming a fist into her desk. "Do your math homework!"
The kids silenced and sat still, except for Colette, who was making puppy faces- of course- at Lloyd. She tried to concentrate on grading papers, but after a few seconds of grading Lloyd's paper, she noticed a blue-ish blur out of the corner of her eye. Looking up, she nearly fainted.
There was Regal, shirtless, doing some kind of weird exercise- Jumping jacks?- outside right in front of the large windows behind the class. She squinted, hoping that she'd seen it wrong. Well, praying, really.
She was torn between putting her glasses on so she could see exactly what was going on, and never putting them on, because what she may (or may not) see could possible traumatize her for life. Perhaps even longer.
She closed her eyes, praying for it to go away, but, when she opened them again, he was still there- only, this time, mouthing her name while grinding himself against the window-panes.
She was torn between fainting, dying, stabbing herself, and throwing something- her desk?- at the window. She settled on blushing, since dying seemed a little extreme. How embarrassing!
"Raine!" Genis called up to the front, his expression concerned. "Are you okay?" He darted to the front, and looked down at his sister's desk. "Yow! Lloyd's paper?" He smirked. "Hey Lloyd!" he shouted, gesturing to the back of the room without looking. "What the heck did you write for your paper!? It's sure got my sister in a tizzy! Did you confess your undying lo--…."
Genis had turned around, immediately spotting the unmistakable blue mullet. His eyes grew wide. Not only was the President grinding himself against the window panes, he also had his tongue on the glass. And he was licking it in a very…well, horny-animal sort-of manner.
When Raine came out of her daze, she noticed that Regal was gone. It must have just have been a dream, then. A dream. Yeah. Nightmare.
It wasn't that Regal was ugly or anything… but…
Not in front of the kids!
It was getting late, the sun was sinking, the light was fading. It was a gorgeous evening. And Raine Sage was relieved- but still paranoid. She hoped that Regal had gone back home…or something. Because he had developed some…issues, since she had last seen him.
She wasn't sure she wanted to know how he had gotten those issues.
She set her things on her front porch, and went around back to draw some water from the well so that they would have some for the morning.
Pulling the bucket filled with water from the well, she turned around to see Regal beaming at her, burrs in his mane…er…mullet.
"Boo!" he shouted, making the half-elf woman jump. The bucket spun out of her grasp and smacked her in the face.
Raine Sage fell unconscious.
"But…but…" Regal moaned, sounding distraught. How was he supposed to get laid, now? "I killed her!" he sobbed, kneeling beside her. "The one person who might be as desperate as I am for a little lovin'!"
Flopping down on the ground at her side, he let the tears flow. He would stay a hot, bothered virgin president forever! He threaded his hands through the half-elf's silver hair, mumbling quietly to himself.
Well…she was still warm…
Just then, her eyes fluttered open. The first thing she saw was Regal's big freaky grin, his mullet still mused from his run through…well, wherever he had been. Was that spinach in his teeth?
"Heya babe," he slurred, his grin firmly in place. "Wanna get laid?"
And Raine Sage passed out…again, the last thing she remembered being the smell of alcohol.
"I'm back luck!" he whined.
The first thing Raine noticed as her eyes slowly opened, was the vast amount of blue in front of her. And that really insanely horrid feeling on her chest. Looking down, underneath the blue…mullet, she noticed the face of a sleepy Regal Bryant, his face smushed into her chest…and his tongue out as he licked his lips.
Her eyes grew wide.
It was bright outside, and the last thing she remembered, it had been dark. "What did you do?" she asked, her voice reaching unheard of pitches.
"I dunno," Regal answered, his mouth moving against the material of her shirt. "I'm really thirsty, though…"
Authors Ramblings: Okay, so the ending was bad. Actually the whole thing was rather disturbing. In a good way? In a bad way? I dunno. Originally, I wanted this to be a lot better- ya know, actually funny? But I guess I screwed up. Oops.
Constructive Criticism accepted!
I reread this and almost died. I had totally forgotten what I had written, and after two years, I busted up laughing while reading this (but I realize it might have traumatized you all for life).