The Gays Play Poker (freelance husbands)

Chapter 1

(Somebody asked to see e girl sans. My TikTok is @whydoismellbadalltime go follow me there I guess)

A long, deep, and frankly annoying breath was taken before the following words were said in a fast pace one sentence matter.

"Hey Sam, remember that time woke you up in the middle of the night because I found two coupons for taco bell under my pillow and demanded that we stay up and go there in the middle of the night because they would expire by the time the sun rose?"

Sam furrowed his brow

"That happened a few hours ago chucklehead."

Everyone found the interaction amusing, but not as much as Claptrap. He wanted to know more.

"That explains why Sam is so tired but why are YOU so energetic?" he asked pointing to Max.

The rabbit took a dramatic inhale once more before going on a rant about his life story.

For context, this was like any other Poker Night at The Inventory. 

Wacky conversations, terrible tasting but expensive booze, and darkly lit room.

And while the atmosphere was cool the lighting kinda sucked because there was definitely something under the table that wasn't visible to the human eye.

Then there was a variety of characters scattered around the room.

The group of "friends" sitting around the table included the following; 

A dealer, large and practical knew anything and everything. Her voice was alluring and the words she used were eloquent but cruel. Her name was GLaDOS, and she became increasingly impatient with the rabbit as he spoke.

Then there was Claptrap. He was another robot! But he was short, silly, and perhaps a little stupid. he was the most invested in what Max had to say. 

Next, there was Ash Williams, who would have been normal-looking if it weren't for his mechanical arm. He's cool I guess.

Brock Samson was by far the most grumpy. (Or maybe he wasn't but he certainly looked like he was). he had a furrowed brow, and a macho man personality 24/7.

Next was the coolest man in the room, Sam. He's the one having this entire monologue in his head. And at this moment he imagines himself as a stone-cold noir detective. 

Suddenly his tie isn't large and goofy, his facial features less cartoonish.  The scenery becomes black and white. For some reason, he has a cigar in his hand. And he despite not liking them- could totally not look weird in shoes.

He hears soft bluegrass jazz, as Max's voice blurs out. Sam begins to focus on his partner.

Max, was by far the most important out of anyone in the room. He was marketable, funny, and sometimes a little psychotic. As he explains how he's essentially a god and is naturally better than everyone, Sam finds himself smiling. He admittedly has a soft spot for his partner and secret lover.

Sam would never admit it but the word 'lover' has him squealing like a teen girl. 

Ew.

Anyways Maxs begins to make his conclusion, by skipping the thesis, claims, and evidence of his life story.

"And that's how you get an titillating object to speak fluent English!"

Sam is probably the only one in the room that can understand whatever the hell Max was talking about, remebering that adventure fondly. But decides not to say anything, quietly laughing to himself.

GLaDOS pipes up.

"Max, do you even know what titillating means?"

the rabbit doesn't say anything.

"Titillating: An arousing, or mild sexual excitement to another person."

Max, being himself, decides the best course of action was to make a flirtaious pose before saying

"Zoo wee mama." While looking directly at Sam.

The dog blinked. 

"Don't say things out of character Max." 

Didn't that melonhead know by now that wacky catchphrases were Sam's thing?

Non the less he began to blush like a horny teen in poorly written fanfiction.

 And it showed.