Hatchetfield.

testing the limits

the honey festival is the quintessential place to pick up women, in ted spankoffski's mind. they're all in one place, all drunk, all celebrating the victory of the honey queen—something that sparks jealousy and despair. easy emotions to capitalize on, if you ask him.

find a crying girl, give her vague nondescript comfort, and you've secured your night in some random apartment in downtown hatchetfield you'll never remember the number of by the time you get home.

on this particular night, ted is waiting at the bar. alone, for now. he doesn't need to wait long, though! any reasonable woman would fall for his advances eventually, as long as he found the right one to push them on...

...this is when he spots her.

she's entering the bar and he turns, recognizing the sound of heels on the floor. everything about her captivates him in an instant, and when he says everything, he means everything.

she has elegant golden heels and a slim-fitting dress adorned with glitter or sequins or something of the like. he doesn't really care, but it's eye-catching, sparkly, and golden, too. it's tastefully low cut, with a slit around her right leg, leaving little to the imagination.

most of her face is hidden by long red hair that pulls down into neat curls, but that's fine by him. he doesn't need to see her face to know she's won him over, anyway. she could be missing an eye or some shit and he'd-

okay, well, the missing eye might be kind of a turn-off. but you get the point he's trying to make, here. he silently prays she'll walk his way. or maybe he should yell at her from across the bar, to get her attention? women love being called forward like pets, after all, and- nope, no, nevermind, she's walking his way anyway. no need for a plan. ted goes still. he tries to play it cool.

she leans over the bar before sitting down and mumbles something to the bartender that ted doesn't hear. the bartender makes a funny, wide-eyed face, nodding submissively to her like a dog. maybe he didn't expect such a gorgeous broad to even talk to him. how funny would that be? not ted, though. he wouldn't get nervous. beautiful women approach him all the time, and who is he to refuse...

she sits down next to him, watching the bartender as he scampers away. he can see her red lips pull into a smile. she doesn't turn to him when she says,

"you look like you could use some company."

he lights up, surprised. ahem, nevermind, cut the surprise. ted would never be surprised by a woman voluntarily approaching him with explicit intent. that absolutely happens to him. twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. best of all, he knows just the tricks he can use to get her response.

"i sure could, and i think you might be my one-way ticket," he leans in toward her, facing her, but she still doesn't meet his eyes. "how come i've never seen you around before?"

"i'm just here for the festival, visiting from out of town. somewhere...darker than here."

"you competing, then? or do you have an equally-as-hot sister who is?" (ted silently prays that she'll say yes. if she wins, and his tactics work, he'd get to say he screwed the honey queen—now, is that an achievement, or what?)

"not competing, and i don't have a sister, trust me. i'm just looking for someone to..." she puts one hand on the counter table, tapping her fingers. they make a heavy clicking sound against the wood. "...play with, tonight."

"well, if that's the intention, i'm all yours, babe."

she laughs. her laugh sounds uncanny, in a way. it starts deep, at first, nothing like a girl. it's thick with excitement. it almost sounds like, if ted knew any better, she got a weird enjoyment out of him saying that. maybe it was a sexy, dominance kinda thing?