2
1343 Words
The President of Afroasia is lost in Cologne, North Rhine-Westphalia. And the neighborhoods are getting scarier and scarier...
The dusk is getting darker and darker. If Madame President doesn't find refuge soon...
Too late. She's been found...by a neo-Nazi gang. Like wolves, they surround her. They've got big arms, with swastikas tattooed on some of them...
"Looky here, Jungen," their apparent leader says, drawing a Luger pistol. "It's not every day that our lowly kind get to assassinate a Jewish president!"
Ms. Ophir wouldn't want her subjects to know that she was terrified. But since it probably won't matter in a few days, Ms. Ophir feels free to scream, and act, like a little girl who's about to get raped...
This is soon rendered unnecessary, as her unexpected saviors arrive, and fight the gang. They're local hip-hop Turkish-Germans. Some of them (if you can believe it) fight with scimitars. At this, Ms. Ophir wonders how many of her saviors are Crimean Tatars...
She doesn't see many such haircuts... Crap; she had SO much faith in Cologne...
Trying to stay low-profile, Elias Bek creeps in, and tries to lead her to safety. Because he's white, she mistakes him for one of the neo-Nazis, and beats the s**t out of him. She used to be in the Afroasian Defense Force. Hence, it doesn't horrify her when she overpowers Bek as easily as she does...
Within moments, the Turks have beaten the neo-Nazis. They scatter, and vanish.
The Turks attend to Ms. Ophir. A few more attend to Elias, snickering.
They open their place to her, of course. They put on some hip hop music, to commemorate the occasion.
Some Turkish fly girls show up, and dance for Afroasia's president. Elias mans the bar, and watches them. He's never stopped loving those fly girls. If only they'd look his way...
His view is soon blocked, by Ms. Ophir's rack. Not recognizing him as the boy she just beat up, despite the scars she's left on him, she orders a pair of authentic North Rhine-Westphalian boilermakers...like the kind she can't find anywhere in Addis Ababa, no matter where she looks...
Elias sighs, and makes them for her. He takes one, and starts to dump the shot of whiskey in the...
She takes it from him, and dumps it herself. Taking both beer mugs by the handles, she drinks them at the same time, alternating them. Elias scoffs. He'd expect an sss to guzzle each one in the time it takes for a Grand Prix pit crew to change all four tires on a racecar...
Once she's drunk, she dances with several Turkish-German males, on stage. Elias sighs, cleans glasses, and watches.
On the upside, at least he gets to stare down the fly girls' racks, while serving them their cocktails. They rush him, and tell him how his cocktails are never sufficient enough to make a girl drunk...
Later, the bar needs more liquor. So, Elias goes down into storage, and fetches some...
About the same time, Ms. Ophir needs to attend the ladies' room. She stumbles into storage, thinking she's found it...
She falls down the stairs. Elias hears it, and attends to her.
She stands, and stumbles. "I'm okay," she insists, shaking Elias away. "I'm okay. I'm a f*****g sss. I'll be fine." She takes a step forward with her two left feet, and falls over.
Elias catches her, and puts her...really big bare arm...over his shoulders. "Let me help you upstairs, Frau President."
She giggles. "It's Fraulein President, actually. And danke, Herr..."
"Bek," he tells her. "I'm sorry about what happened to you earlier today. What were you doing out there, anyway? Where were your secret servants?"
She laughs. "If only I could tell you. It's been a long day...and it's a VERY long way back to Afroasia, from here..."
He leads her back into the common area. He tries to return to storage...but she drags him onto the stage...
"Uh," Elias protests, "Fraulein President, I'm just the barkeep here..."
"Well then, Mr. Barkeep," she embraces him, sexually, on the stage. "Let me repay you, for all the FINE boilermakers I've had, by having an authentic bride-and-groom dance with you...just as we do them at Jewish weddings in Afroasia!"
"What?! No, please, I can't..."
Below, all the Turkish-Germans are applauding, and egging them on. The fly girls are giggling to themselves...
"Fine," Elias groans. "Hey, Herr DJ! Play something upbeat! Play something that's made fun of a lot on YouTube, like 'Ice, Ice Baby..."
The DJ scoffs, and puts on a track. With that, the speakers play a Leona Lewis song.
"What," Elias exclaims, "no! I said..."
Ms. Ophir covers his mouth, and shushes him. "Just shut up and dance, German motherfucker!"
Elias isn't sure about this. Nonetheless, he surrenders to the woman's embrace, and slow-dances with her...all night long...
Below, the Turkish-Germans seem to enjoy what they see. The fly girls try to look away...but can't seem to...
Elias and Ms. Ophir slow-dance to several songs; Mary J. Blige, Ashanti, Keri Hilson, Alicia Keys, Kelly Rowland, Beyoncé, Jennifer Hudson, Tamar Braxton, Ciara, and Melanie Fiona are all on tonight's playlist...at varying frequencies... It's amazing, how many Houston R&B chicks find their way into Turkish-German music markets...
By the end of the night, the Turkish-Germans have given Elias and Ms. Ophir a room. And whether Elias would believe it or not, he's being f****d by the most powerful person in Afroasia...or rather, the most powerful person FROM Afroasia…
Elias feels like he's at a bullriding rodeo...only the bull's riding him, rather than the other way around, and it's riding his midriff, rather than his back... It's just as well; as small as he is, he'd be shocked if any girl, Turkish-German or pure German, told him he had a bull-like hump in his back...let alone a cat-like hump...
Elias knows Ms. Ophir's drunk. He knows she won't remember him, when the morning comes. And he knows this'll all end sooner than he wants it to. But for now, he savors each moment...because before long, there'll be none left for him OR his Turkish-German homies...
Before long, she's snoring in bed with him. He's still awake. Her bare arms are wrapped around him. Her huge rack is pressed up against his back...
He's needed relief since before the s*x. He tries to pry her away from him...
She doesn't pry. She's crabby, when she's asleep. He tries again. Still, she's tenacious. He tries harder than ever. She knees him in the ass, and goes back to sleep.
He's still in her arms. God, he hopes he doesn't have to replace this mattress...
Outside, black cars, with flashing blue, white and silver lights, surround the block. Secret servants storm in, and secure the premises.
They burst in on Elias and Ms. Ophir, while the latter sleeps. Elias would hold up his arms in surrender...if only Ms. Ophir's weren't still around them...
As you might expect, the secret servants have no trouble prying the Afroasian president's arms off of Elias. Instead, she wraps them around one of her secret servants. Trying not to stare, three of them haul her out of the room. A few of them stay behind, and take Elias's statement.
Wrapped in a cloak, the Afroasian president is escorted back to her limo; her old one's been replaced rather promptly. That's understandable; Old Germany's always been a big automaker.
Elias watches, from behind a crowd of Turkish-German men, as she's loaded into the limo. They wave flags, and holler praises to her, as her convoy leaves, with her limo in their midst...
Elias sighs, and stays outside for a bit...long after all the other guys have gone back in. He's not sure...but he thinks he's just fallen in love with the one that got away...
Crap; now he can't write his report for his journalism class. If he wrote a report that said he slow-danced with and f****d the Afroasian president in a cheap hip-hop neighborhood, his professor would think he needs psychotherapy...
- Writer
