“Have you gone mad, man? You know I get all burpy when I chug beer too fast. No thanks. I’d like my belly free of beer bubbles and cheap after-market stale beer breath.
“Like that’s the worst thing that’s ever been in your belly, Gremlin. I’ve smelled your ex-girlfriend. You would’ve beenbetter off fucking Shamu than that fishy smelling twat,” Drac jokes.
He grimaces. “Hey now, no need to bring up past mistakes like that, Prez. Greta was a nice girl; she just had a glandular issue.”
“And an eating issue,” Voorhees snickers, suddenly popping up out of nowhere.
Gremlin takes another sip of his beer. “There is nothing wrong with a curvy woman, boys. You just gotta know how to handle all those curves, and like the motorcycle I ride, I ride them curves like I’m all in and burning rubber.”
A horn violently blares from outside.
“You’re pissing off the Prez’s Ol’ Lady, Gremlin. Do you think that’s a good idea?”
He sighs, seconds away from taking another glorious sip of his beer as he recounts his short-lived relationship with his ex. “Maybe I should call Greta again. She was a lot of fun in the bedroom.”
His hand violently swings wide when I hit it away from his mouth, the brown liquid spilling from the top.
“Just place the fucking beer on the table and help me fix this mess. That’s an order.”
“Fine, but I’m only doing this because I’m craving another cinnamon roll. I’m not doing this because you ordered me to. This is for that hot as fuck sweets goddess you’ve suddenly become fixated on.”
“Shut the fuck up, Gremlin, before I pummel your goddamn face.”
He smirks. “Testy. She makes you really testy, you know that, Krampy? Riled… jealous even. I’m sensing there’s something going on between you two. Maybe a little spark of some kind?”
“If you don’t shut up…”
“I know. I know. Face pummeled… got it.” He reluctantly follows me, slamming his almost full beer down on a table as he passes. “I can’t even drink a beer anymore without someone interrupting me,” he grumbles.
“The beer will be waiting for you when you get back, Prospect.”
“Like almost every woman who has ever slept with me—lukewarm, flat, and already halfway over me,” Gremlin fires back, practically pouting.
Chuckling, I ruffle up his hair, pushing him toward the cage that Amber’s already impatiently waiting in. Gremlin climbs into the back seat, already sulking.
“Why the pouty face, Gremmie?” Amber questions, smirking when he shifts to look out the window, bottom lip jutting out a mile long.
“That cold-hearted bastard dragged me away from a cold beer and made me spill some of it.”
“Poor baby,” Amber teases.
“Two sips, woman! I only got two sips! Do you know how devastating that is?
“Sooo devastating,” she mocks. “Whatever will you do?”
“Be parched. Dehydrated. And definitely NOT buzzed!”
Smirking, I meet his hateful eyes in the rearview mirror. “You’ll thank me for it later, Gremlin.”
“If I don’t get at least one cinnamon roll out of this, I’m gonna fucking riot.”
“I promise you’ll get a damn cinnamon roll.”
“Make that three. I want three goddamn fucking cinnamon rolls!” he yells, his voice filling the car with conviction and rage.
“Was the cussing necessary?” Amber growls, glaring at him from the passenger seat.
Gremlin crosses his arms in annoyance. “Honey, you have no idea how goddamn fucking necessary it is. Once we get back tothe bakery, fucking swearing’s not allowed.” He lets out a sigh. “I’m just getting it out of my system before I get slapped in the head a million times for having a potty mouth.”
