Link's fingernails were firmly implanted in the shoulders of the front-side seats as the CHAMPs mobile came to a halt. Eyes wide, looking like his life had flashed before his eyes, his stare bored into the back of Manny's head.
Never again, he swore to himself. Manny's driving certainly had a style of its own.
Hurriedly, he pushed himself out of the vehicle's back door and firmly placed his feet on the concrete, taking in the glorious feeling of safety and freedom as he stretched out and attempted to chiropractically pop his neck with a few different maneuvers.
They were finally here. Time to put on their game faces. He looked to Talia and nodded, affirming that he was ready and their plan was a go. As they walked, he adjusted his earpiece to fit into his ear more comfortably and transmitted. "
Let's get it started, ha! Let's get it started in herr!" he quipped, reciting a radio edit from the Black Eyed Peas.
His attempt at alleviation was cut short when the sight of his true love came into view. She was parked haphazardly and crooked in a spot toward the front. She was banged up, abused. Her paint was scratched. Link felt his eye twitch and his teeth grind.
Don't worry, love, he mentally professed to the 4-wheeled object of his affection.
I'm not leaving here without you.As they ventured closer, the serpent of desperation began to come into focus. That's the only way Link could describe the queue of people wrapped around the building, all dolled up and waiting behind a velvet prison for a pass from the security overlords that would likely never come. Link looked to Talia and answered her smile with a smirk of his own before offering his elbow. The two of them continued on, foregoing the line.
"Don't look any of them in the eye," he whispered under his breath, intending to enter her earshot alone. No doubt, if she were to meet their gawking stares, she would discover faces of ire, envy, jealousy and hatred that often came when those who are struggling bear witness to those who thrive.
As they skipped the line in its entirety, they stopped at the two very burly looking men in black t-shirts who who stood on the inside of a velvet barrier, one of whom was positioned behind a podium. Atop the podium was a notebook whose contents consisted of the identities of the privileged. Within the podium were several keys organized by the valet drivers. Link took a mental note before looking at the twin meatheads.
"Name." Meathead Number 1 was all about business, no pleasantries. Link glanced at the notebook and then quickly back up to meet Gigantor's gaze. He wasn't going to be in the book.
"Uh," he stammered. His eyes widened for a moment. His mind was blank.
Oh, fuck! What the hell was the password, again?! Speedo? Dong wagon? Butt floss? Oh, wait-
"Banana Hammock," he said with a forced sense of confidence.
Big Boy raised an eyebrow and looked the two up and down. The silence that permeated the air lasted for what seemed like hours. Links hands slowly curled into fists. This wasn't going to wor-
"Enjoy your evening," The Big Guy said with a newly sprouted grin as he pulled back the rope and gestured toward the club's entrance. Link let out a long sigh through his nostrils before taking a step forward, Talia still in tow.
As they stepped inside, they could
feel the rhythm of the music. The bass, the vibrations, the movement of the dancers, the shrieking attempts at communication over all the sound pollution... He loved it! It felt like home.
Inasmuch as he had an urge to succumb to his social desires, he had to remind himself that they were there on business. They had a mission. He looked to Talia, pointed at her, and then swung his index finger like a lasso. His non-verbal request was meant to translate to
Do you want to go look around? He then pointed at himself and then over to the bar, telegraphing his own personal destination. Finally, he pointed to Talia once more and then rolled his hand into a fist before extending out his pinky and thumb in a shaka sign, shaking it toward his mouth like a bottle - his way of asking if she wanted a drink before they split off. With a final shrug, he awaited her response. Then came the sound of Bob:
"Got eyes on the target. Count about six guards inside. All melee, no guns on them that I see. Will wait for y'all's signal." And then, "Hey... uh... the guys here are taking pills... didn't you say that dust stuff gave them superpowers?"
Fuck.