“Guys, guys!” Rex shouted. “One cupcake each. And don’t be picky when it comes to pussy.”
“There aren’t any pussies here,” a gruff voice shouted. “Only shit.”
“Just like the streets of San Francisco,” said another. “I step on this crap all day long.”
“Disgusting!”
“I think they’re cute; they look like the emojis,” Denton chimed in because he was the one who made them. “Like the swirl on top?”
“What do you mean shit?” Jolie ran toward the counter. “I put pink pussy cupcakes all over the place. Where did they go?”
“Oh, no,” Leanna said. She got up from Carol’s lap and pushed her way to the bar. “Axe, did you see what happened to all the pink cupcakes?”
He removed his shades and grinned. “Eaten up already. Why?”
“They were for the contest! How could you?” Jolie beat on the counter. “I put out over a hundred.”
“And you think the guys didn’t scarf them up?” Axe threw his head back and laughed. “When they were gone, I replaced them with the poopy ones.”
Indeed, chocolate poopy-heads with candied eyes and smiles littered the countertops.
“No problem.” Leanna grabbed the mic from Rex. “All of you guys with the shit-eating grins, grab a poop cake, on the double. You, too, Axe. Get in front of the cameras. Ready! Set! Go!”
Leanna couldn’t stop laughing at the good sports. Those Bad Boys for Hire and their friends, including Axe, gamely held the poopy chocolate cakes and lined up in front of the video cameras.
“The guy with the brownest nose wins!” Leanna jeered, unable to hold back the stitches in her side.
“I’m getting you back,” Axe said, smashing the swirly chocolate over his face.
He made a show of licking every chocolate chip and crumb, but the tip of his long nose was browner than mud, and he was easily declared the winner.
What was with that?
Leanna kissed the chocolate frosting off Axe’s nose and hugged him tight. “I knew you’d be the best eater, but I didn’t know it would be for poop.”
He licked her lips. “You’re next.”
“Oh no. I’m not eating a schlong in front of everyone.”
“Oh, yes, you are.” He took the mic from her and waved his arm. “As the winner of the Streets of San Francisco Shit Eating Contest, I’d like to thank the fabulous Leanna Rivera for giving us crap, piling it on, and digging deep. Okay, everyone, gather round. Put your hands together for Carol and Nick, our bachelor and bachelorette. Let’s wish them a bright and happy life together. I’d like to dedicate the next dance to them with Bruno Mars’ ‘Marry You.’”
Everyone cheered as the music played. Nick held his hand out to Carol, and she took it. He picked her up out of her wheelchair and held her close, whirling around and kissing her, as the singer said he wanted to marry her.
“That’s sweet of you,” Leanna said, relieved that she wasn’t in the spotlight. “For a minute there, I thought you were going to play a trick on me.”
“Oh, I would never do that,” he said, holding her close. “Listen to the words of the song.”
Her heart fluttered, and she leaned into him, taking one of his hands and dancing close. Even though he’d popped the question and she’d said yes, he hadn’t spoken more on the topic.
Maybe this dance was his way of letting her know he was still planning. If only he weren’t too cool to admit his feelings outside of the bedroom.
She touched his chin and gazed into his eyes. All she saw was love and devotion, and it was enough. She smiled, nodding, yes. She did want to marry him.
“Ya think?” Axe asked after the song was finished and everyone clapped.
“It’s a beautiful night,” Leanna said, and right then and there, she was bopped on the head by a man dressed in a schlong costume, trailed by the social media cameramen.
“Miss Leanna Rivera,” the Schlongman who sounded like Denton said, “You have just won the Bumblebee Clearing House Prize to receive a super, deluxe schlong, one that is thick, long, and full of cream.”
