Meeting the Boss

[convict]

A long black limo pulls up outside of the XVI entrance to the arena hosting the hose show before the first official televised event. The driver gets out and walks to the back door and opens it up, sliding out of the back is the business woman who just released Convict from out of prison, and she stands up and starts to make her way to the door. A few minutes behind her a black combat boot lands upon the cold concrete followed by another, the 6’4 monster known only as “the Beast” Convict slowly stands up, his black leather overcoat falls from the leather seat of the limo, Convict rolls his head from side to side, and the cracking and popping of his joints can be heard.

Convict takes a step forward and looks up at the Arena billboard sign. He pulls a Camel non filtered cigarette from his pocket and lights it with a Zippo lighter. The woman turns around.

Woman: There is no smoking in the building you’ll have to finish that before you go in.

Convict: Shut the fuck up. I’ll smoke this where ever the fuck I please.

The woman has a disgusted look upon her face as she is clearly on her last nerve of dealing with the vulgar monster of a man. She enters the building and Convict follows behind her.

Convict: Where is my fuckin locker room?

Woman: Down the hall and to the left. The boss would like to see you in 10 minutes after you get settled.

Convict: I’ll get there when I damn well fuckin please cunt.

The woman turns away and storms off towards the administration wing of the arena. Convict continues down the hall towards his locker room, he stops when he sees in simple lettering “the Beast” Convict. Convict opens the door and enters his room, he gives it a quick glance and his eyes rest on a fully loaded bar. He walks over to it, and realizes his favorite drink is the only beverage present. Convict grabs a bottle of Jack Daniels from the bar, twist the cap off, and begins to down about half the bottle. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and then takes another drag from his cigarette and lets it fall to the floor, he then places his black combat boot upon it and stomps it out upon the floor. Convict smiles his evil grin, and turns around and leaves his locker room with his bottle of Jack in his hand.

Convict makes his way to the administration wing and sees a door marked simply “The Boss” Convict looks and listens for any sounds, any surprises that may arise. Convict steps back and launches his foot at the door busting it open on the first try.

[glow=red,2,300]TBC…[/glow][/b]

["One Taste" Poison]

...A Twizted Mind Production...
|z| .I don’t need a reason to hate you the way I do.|z|

...Hello Beast...

With a crack, the door snaps almost in two, convict smiling to himself, obviously pleased at the wreckage he has already caused. Cautiously, he steps forward, his big black boots snapping the wood beneath them effortlessly. A husky tone, that spiteful voice, he speaks out into the unknown before him.

|z| Convict |z|
"…Who the fuck wanted to see me?... "

He walks into the room, drinking from his bottle of jack, eyes never stop searching. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he looks around the room, making sure to take in every detail, any shred of personality which may lead to who’s room he lurks in and every last object he could use to beat their brains in.

His eyes hit the large wooden desk, placed thoughtfully in front of the open window. A large red leather chair behind it, turned with its back towards him. He’s seen this in the films; he knows what’s coming next… He just doesn’t know who.

A rush of arrogance falls over him, knowing he can get the upper hand here. He struts towards the desk… And with a almighty strike, he smashes his hands down onto the desk in frustration, as his sick voice oozes from his lips.

|z| Convict |z|
” You’re pissing me off damnit! Show yourself before I beat the shit out of you, cunt!... "

Suddenly… The rush stops… His hands rest limply by his sides, the bottle of jack hanging from his coat pocket. Tilting his head to the side, he steps closer slightly to the chair… A somewhat calming has become of this monster… But what could cause it?

The sickening giggle gets louder. Those in the crowd, who know, are ecstatic. Those who are unaware… sit in wonder.

The chair slowly spins clockwise, the owner.. becoming clear.

With a shriek of anticipation, the crowd members stand to their feet. That long raven hair, stretching down her lower back… That tight black business suit, open just enough to tease the men with her sensual cleavage. Soft pale skin, luscious red lips… all complimenting themselves so gloriously. However… Those sickening green eyes, piercing and venomous glow into the beast before her. And then… That is when he is truly sure who brought him here.

…Poison.

|z| Poison |z|
" You wouldn’t dare, bitch... "

Convict chuckles to himself slightly, a grin slowly showing on his face. Poison stands, leaning over her desk, grabbing the bottle of jack from his pocket, and then taking a seat. Reaching in her draw, she pulls out a cigar and a zippo… lighting the cigar and staring up at convict.

|z| Poison |z|
" Miss me, fucker? "

She laughs to herself, putting her feet up on the desk. Convict shakes his head, noticing, even though she’s dress formal, she’s still wearing those big, buckled leather boots she’s famous for.

|z| .Play Me. |z|

[/b]

[convict]

Convict stands staring at Poison, her succulent lips around the cigar. Convict takes a step back admiring her curvaceous body, his ice cold blue eyes focused upon her legs they slowly scan there way up until he notices the red of her panties under her business skirt. He quickly focuses his attention back to her sickening green eyes that seem to sparkle evil intentions in the darkness of the room. Convict grabs a chair and sits in it. He lays a single black leather Combat boot upon the table. Poison notices the dried blood to the bottom.

Convict: Miss you? You disappeared and left me high and dry bitch.

Convict pulls a cigarette from his pocket and lights it up.

Convict: Then you send some cunt with no clue to spring me out. And she has the nerve to try to tell me what to do and how to act.

Convict looks Poison up and down.

Poison: Don’t tell me you’re all tore up inside that I just disappeared.

Convict lets out a slight evil chuckle.

Convict: Not really, I just expected it a hell of a lot sooner then that. But let’s cut all the fuckin bullshit and small talk. I figure I am here for one of two things…and since you’re not naked yet slurping my cock…I figure you have some other plan for me at this moment.

Poison leans back in her leather chair smiles evilly, and place her finger tips against each other.[/b][/i]

["One Taste" Poison]

...A Twizted Mind Production...
|z| .Cunt.|z|


Poisons red fingertips gently take hold of the thick, smoking cigar between her luscious lips. Slowly smoke oozes over her lips, flowing in front of Convicts face. She leans over the desk slowly, her cleavage clear for Convict to see. She moves her face closer to his, their lips a mere inch from touching… She whispers sensually, a sick, vile smirk slowly creeping onto her face.

|z| Poison |z|
" You want these thick, full lips wrapped around your piece?... "

She sighs gently, biting her bottom lip seductively.. Convict grins, looking into her eyes. Poison laughs softly, slowly running her warm, wet, pierced tongue across her top lip, whispering again. So sexy... So seductive... Enough to bring any man to their knees.

|z| Poison |z|
" Come here then… Let me bite that fucking thing off... "

Poison laughs evilly, standing up. Walking over to her window, her short skirt hugging her perfect body. Breathing a thick layer of silver smoke out of her mouth, she speaks, eyes gazing down on the car park.

|z| Poison |z|
" I need carnage, fucker... "

Poison turns to him, grinning.

|z| Poison |z|
" And you were one of the few people who came to mind that could actually entertain me. "

She turns again to face the window. Convict watches her every move. Slowly, she takes off her blazer, throwing it on her desk, revealing a short sleeved, tight, almost see through white shirt underneath. Her right arm graces a barb wire tattoo. Taking another drag of her cigar, she moves her long black raven hair over her shoulder.

|z| .Play Me. |z|

[/b]

[convict]

Convict’s eyes burrow deep into Poisons seductive green eyes. As if burning a hole into her sole…if she had one. Her words running threw his mind a mile a minute. Her perfume mixes with the smell from the cigar, almost hypnotizing Convict. A lesser man would be pure putty in her hands by now. Good thing for the Beast he isn’t any of them. Like a bolt of lightning Convict is to his feet, and in front of Poison peering down upon her. She is used to playing with men, being in control when they think she isn’t. She likes to play the coy submissive on occasion.

Convict: I entertained you? That was how you just so eloquently put it?

Poison stands looking up at the Beast, and nods her head coyly.

Convict: You want carnage…mayhem…destruction? Then why didn’t you just ask in the first place? That why you put me from one cage to another. So Gein can end up with a chalk outline where his body lays?

Convict grins as he raises his cigarette to his lips and takes a drag; he lets the smoke out slowly to mix in the air with the cigar and perfume.

Convict: And just what do I get out of the deal? I bring you carnage mayhem and destruction, what’s in it for me? Money? That’s a laugh I could give a rats ass about cash, I want some I’ll get it. Booze? That’s what 7 fuckin 11 is for. No my payment better be worth the hassle. Especially considering you didn’t even have the decency to give me the initial proposition you’re damn self. Or let me guess the forgotten virus was just to busy to pay a visit to the best fuck she ever had.

Convict slowly moves behind Poison, her body slightly tingles as Convict barely slides his hand up her back, and suddenly grabs the back of her long raven black hair and pulls it so her head is pulled back. His mouth next to her ear.

Convict: Something is missing…oh yeah where did the chain go?

[glow=red,2,300]TBC…[/glow][/b]

["One Taste" Poison]

...A Twizted Mind Production...
|z| .Cunt.|z|


Grinning, Poison closes her eyes, biting her bottom lip seductively, obviously enjoying this. Convict see’s this, shaking his head, letting go of her hair… knowing there is no point. Slowly, she turns to face him, eye brow raised slightly as her sickening green eyes burn deeply into his ice cold irises.

|z| Poison |z|
" You’d love that, wouldn’t you?... "

She places her hand on his chest, bushing him back slowly as she walks forward.

|z| Poison |z|
" You in charge again… Making me listen to your every command, being your personal… very personal, slave... "

Convict grins… He smiles that sick, vulgar grin he has become famous for. Poison laughs slightly, flashing back that same smile. But quickly her face changes to an evil, serious expression.

|z| Poison |z|
" Again... "

Convict looks down, chuckling… seemingly remembering those days. Poison shakes her head, laughing, walking over to her chair. Sitting down again, she puts her feet up once more, glaring up at Convict.

|z| Poison |z|
" Forget it. I’m in charge this time… "

Poison takes the bottle of jack and drinks some. Looking at the bottle, she grins viciously.

|z| Poison |z|
" And as for your payment… "

Her eyes flick up to hit the beats frame. Standing slowly as he towers over her, she grins, whispering seductively, eyes peering up into his, showing absolutely no fear.

|z| Poison |z|
" You enjoy the carnage too much fucker… Why the fuck would I charge you for something, you’d damn right do anyways… Whether I asked you or not?… "

Poison tilts her head questionably.


|z| .Play Me. |z|

[/b]

[convict]

Convict begins to laugh evilly. He places one of his large hands on the back of the leather chair poison sits in and spins it to face him, her large black boots come down to the floor with a clump. She continues to look up at him.

Convict: You’re right I may do it absolutely free of charge. But I won’t. You’ll pay me one way or another. As for being my slave once again I never said that, just hinting that you and that chain went real well together with me. But that’s the fuckin past. I’ll cause the effects that you want. And when I come for my payment…you’ll be more then fuckin pleased to give it to me.

Convict turns and walks towards the kicked down door. He stops and looks over his should at poison sitting in her leather chair looking at him.

Convict: Next time, don’t send some whore off the street to talk to me. You come and do it yourself. And be ready with my payment…something nice. Something you know I’ll enjoy.

Poison: How about the whore off the street?

Convict lets out a laugh.

Convict: Only if the whores name is Billy Trenton Chase.

Convict exits the office and disappears in the hallways.

[glow=red,2,300]TBC by Poison…if she chooses.[/glow][/b]