"I said I don't like the water damn it!" Rock Rose thunders, her bass laden voice echoing off the walls of the cabin. She leans against the wall clutching a small Barney teddy bear tightly to her chest. "Shit scares the hell out of me".
"What is so horribly wrong with the water?" Felony demands. "You told me yourself that you could swim, so what's the big deal?"
"Hey, they got man eating sharks in there that might be able to bench more than me!"
"Ok, fine", Felony relents only slightly while scooting towards the edge of her bunk. Decked out in a gleaming black one piece with a towel draped around her neck it is readily apparent that she has ideas her partner finds disagreeable. "You do realize that we're onboard a cruise ship, right? 60,000 tons of steel with 47 operational life boats. I don't think we'll be dropping into the drink any time soon, and besides, sharks have fins, not arms, I doubt they can bench press anything".
"Since when did you become an admiral? Rosie challenges.
"I read the brochure, dummy", Felony replies in a soft yet unmistakeably sarcastic tone.
"What the hell did you just say?"
"I said I read the brochure honey".
A gentle rapping on the door draws their attention away from one another and onto the smiling face of their manager Goldenboy Gene Banton who pokes his head in. "Hey, it's almost time let's go!"
"Go where Geno?" Rosie asks.
"Up to the main deck, they're having a swimsuit contest and Felony is in it!"
"You mean like, babes in bikinis?"
"Yep!"
"What about beer?"
"Free beer until the kegs run dry!"
"Felony you dumb broad! Why didn't you tell me they had beer and babes? You sit there yakking about damned man eating sharks trying to get me scared so I'd stay down here and cuddle instead of up top doing man stuff! Thefuxwrongwitchu?"
Felony angrily bolts to her feet, "You..," but she is quickly cut off by the muscular behemoth Rosie who steps directly in front of her, almost standing on her toes forcing the diminutive blonde to look up and up and up some more. Her scowl flees from the towering figure and is replaced by a sheepish grin. "Heh..,"
"You what? What am I?"
"Well uhh.., heh, you're big". Felony stammers while reaching out to feel Rosie's rock like bicep being flexed in front of her face. "Very big."
"Damn right. Now let's go before I put you over my knee", Rosie says, tossing her teddy bear into the bed and grabbing hold of Fel's silken blonde mane leading her towards the door. "That beer ain't gonna drink itself and while you're busy making those broads look like road kill, me and Geno are gonna be checking out the scenery".
The scene is a lively one on the main deck of the Royal Monarch as passengers meander about the hardwood floor between fold out beach chairs to and from several kegs attended by swimsuit clad young men and women serving free booze to anyone who asks. The energetic thumping of hip hop music filtering throughout is provided by a quartet of large, concert speakers, two of them stationed on each side of a makeshift platform dead center in front of the chairs and beer stand nestled snugly against the wall of the ship with a ruffled black curtain serving as a backdrop. A young man, perhaps in his mid twenties with curly red hair, and fair skin wearing a floppy beach hat and a nauseating Hawaiian shirt stands in front of it holding onto a microphone tightly.
"Alright ladies and gentlemen, I hope you're ready for some fun because it's time for the swimsuit contest!" He drops the mic to his waist allowing for a pause which is quickly filled by a rowdy round of cheers, whistles and cat calls. "Ok are we ready to get started?"
Before he can introduce the first contestant Rock Rose, beer in hand stumbles up the hefty flight of (two) steps and up to the emcee from whom she jerks away the microphone. "I'll handle this little man!", she slurs while struggling to remain upright. "Before we... hic... get started... I wanna talk to you about needs..,"
Hushed whispers abound as the stunned crowd looks on in confusion. Behind them, off to the right standing near a beer vendor, Gene Banton stands by, pulling himself from a conversation with a dazzling young, bikini clad brunette and gawking at the podium having been commandeered by his protege. "Really Rosie, two beers?"
"You see, a man has needs, and that's why God created women like these babes in the crowd, to fulfill those needs". A handful of snorted cheers ring out as Rosie attempts to find her balance. "Yeah! You guys know what I'm talkin' about! Any way, what happens when those needs aren't taken care of?" Another pause preludes a short round of boos before she continues. "That's right, the shit sucks and it ain't right! So picture this, a big, fat blob of humanity decides to hurt your bitch and she can't take care of your needs. That happened to me a month ago. I had to go an entire month with no sex and I'm fucking pissed off!"
"A hearty round of jeering ensues as Rosie pulls the intimidated emcee close enough to lean against him for support by placing a beefy arm around his shoulder. "Yeah, I'm talkin' about man stuff here! This fat piece of crap named Cookie sat her fat ass on my piece and hurt her. Yo Fel..," she turns to face the curtain calling the name of her significant other. "Come on out here babe".
Sporting a timid smile, Felony steps onto the platform to join Rosie, who immediately leans down to plant a kiss on her. "Look at this," she barks. Ya see that tight ass little body on Felony? Put yourself in my shoes, what would you do if you couldn't knock the bottom out of this for an entire month?"
Another chorus of boos erupt, this time louder as Rock Rose spins Felony around showing her off to the crowd. "Ya damn right! But it's... hic... it's all good. It's all good cuz Sunday I'ma go take care of this. I got me a rematch with the broad that did it, Cookie S'mores, Brandi Shits, Jessie Salco and Miss Evangelist or whatever are gonna find out what happens when you fuck with a man's needs! I don't really care about the others, but somebody saw fit to give Cookie some bodyguards..,"
"I think we need to put you to bed", Felony whispers. "You've had enough fun for the... brief evening".
"We ain't puttin' nothin' nowhere ya screwy broad! "cept you over my knee if you interrupt me again!" Rosie snaps defiantly. "Now, where was I? Oh yeah, Cookie's bodyguards. Any way, I've had a whole month of no sex with this little Barbie doll of mine and it's time for some payback! So Brandi Shits, Jessie Salco and Evangelist or whatever the fuck you bible thumper types call yourselves my advice to you is to stay your scrawny little asses out of the damned ring and just leave it to me and fatso cuz I'm gonna... hic... I'm gonna.., I think I'm gonna throw up. Fuck that, let's get some bitches up here in some bikinis..," Rosie takes her arm from around the emcee's shoulder and pumps a clenched fist into the air. Yeah!" She cries and then suddenly falls face first towards the floor, her 265 pound frame thumping harshly against the wood.
