1:6 Disaster Waiting to Happen, By Vince

@ Copywrite 2019 original works of author Bloom Ariks

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1:6 Disaster Waiting to Happen, By Vince

I definitely figured Rourke was in for some weird shit, with his tech genius hacking us into the communication towers to record any conversation when keywords are said.

There’s a reason every other country in the world uses the spyware program, and with all the shit that’s been happening the last month, any edge we can get is a benefit.

I just never expected the conversation we happened upon, being blasted through Rourke’s kitchen. Let alone that it would be as interesting as it is.

“Lunch hour or not, having the porn dole’ performer butt pump the wolf man is not explainable in a pediatrics office Roman! Even if the painted lady used her feet to do it!” The raring kitten roars at the man on the other end of her call.

Rourke has the drop jawed stare I might share, deciding on how to process the most bizarre situation I’ve heard in a while. “You do not get any points for it being the only time you’ve ever pulled something like this, being behind closed doors!”

“You said you were home! Not at work, and it’s been so long since you’ve gotten good dick that I figured you must have forgotten how to do it!” ‘Roman’ cherries his tone, and I’m right there with Grimm. Using the full slab of quartz to hold my weight as the two of them go on like this ordinary run-of-the-mill times for them.

“Oh I had plenty of sex, dirty, kinky sex according to you!” The girl growls in that way that is naturally seductive, I just doubt she’s aware of the sultriness before she switches gears again.

“And none of it came from your oh so fantastic suggestion of tying myself up and gift wrapping my vagina like a leather-bound Wonderlight present for the man you set me up with’s wife and five kids to walk in!”

“For the last time, I didn’t know Brian was married, and it is no reason for you to give up....” The rest of ‘Roman’s’ retorts had as much sarcasm as amusement. That half apology, half plea, on the other hand, is full of regret.

“Oh, don’t even say what I think you’re about to say!” The woman cuts him off again. Not noticing or caring about the actual remorse he’s showing.

“I did get a clinical internship just like you suggested! One that ended like every other job I’ve managed in the past three months, thanks to you and your shenanigans!”

Of all the things I wonder where she learned to speak is on the top of that list.

“Living like a mole person isn’t the answer to that.” The obviously effeminate man cherries up his tone again, snapping back.

“Neither was you stealing the only good boyfriend I ever had!” Honestly, the pair of them remind me of Nico and I, with the back and forth.

At least the way that they seem to have an answer or argument for everything the other says.

“Don’t blame me because you passed up boning my man, and don’t know what good sex is well enough to walk away from jackasses.”

“Considering you only met your man because I fell down the stairs and broke my leg, trying to model lingerie at your suggestion. Ending with me waking up from a drug induced coma from two of you boning in the bathroom; I’d thank my lucky stars your little sister didn’t catch the nympho perv gene you keep hoping will rub off on me!”

I can’t tell if the disaster waiting to happen, should come with a name or a warning label.

Puppy is two taps from out. Holding his stomach, beyond sound, he’s laughing so hard while Rourke is still trying to scrub the ‘oh sweetie’ off his face.

A pretty flimsy attempt to keep the tough guy act in front of his howling subordinate in my opinion.

“And before you get any ideas on sending me more sex toys smaller than my forearm and fist, thinking it’s a preference issue. Know that one more get back on the horse ‘gift’, and I will tell Alex on you!” The woman threatens like a kid threatening to tattle to their parents.

It’s not a typical sibling interaction, but considering that I share lovers with my twin, I’m more amused than I am put off.

Knowing I’ve got to get eyes on this woman. Confirm that the most tragically comical situation I never imagined is actually real, she drives it home. “That way, the next time your booty hole gets superglued shut, there won’t be anything fun. in. it!”

The last threat cracks the mountain for his booming laughter to echo through the apartment.

“I’ve got to get eyes on this woman,” Rourke confirms our aligned thought process and tastes with the comment. More often than not, thinking things aloud before I say them.

Crazy or not, at least she’ll be entertaining.

“Sorry boss. Burner,” Grimm says a little more sharply.

She must have said King Kong Cock at the same time or before Grimm accidentally put it in. No matter what Rourke has to say about it, I make the kid leave that phrase in the program.

Wondering just how many other conversations set to auto record with keywords, might be as entertaining as that one.

It was a moment I didn’t know how bad I needed. One that lightened my shoulders way more than the pissed off little storming out because we ignored her did.

Grimm inhales as much food as Rourke as we go through the tweaking process. Deciding which words are important enough to go live like that vs ones, that can wait for people I trust to go through.

At the end of it all, I delay, wanting a little more time before I face the music.

At least I try to. Rourke says he has places he needs to be, and I can’t put off dealing with my twin. IE round three of the bitch fit over the alliance Nico wants nothing to do with.

Like I said. No one has a better game face when it comes to business than Nico. It is after all mine. However, no grown man can throw a temper tantrum like my brother on personal shit either.

It’s not like I disagree or blame him. Half the reason I’m looking for alternatives like the one Grimm is setting up, is to find a way around the alliance neither of my partners want. At least options that avoid bloodshed.

Having witnessed an all out mob war stemming from eradicating and entire syndicate, I don’t really see it as an option. Not with the press Jorge’s already raining down on our heads.

The man is maniacally smart or power hungry stupid.

Nico and Rourke are as against drugs as I am. The three of us also know that the throne, as it were, doesn’t let us put ourselves before the position.

I guess the moment of selfishness, putting their needs above my subjects, has the gears turning in my head. Working out how to get an alliance without marrying the bitch who openly sneers at the men I can’t live without.