The Adventure of John Malahi

        The throbbing lights and the driving music is enough to drive any ordinary man to the brink of insanity if not over it. However John Malahi is not any ordinary man; he is the commander in chief of the club scene. The �Arabian Gift to Women�, John lived off of these lights and beats and, most importantly, the women. Small or tall, thin or with extra skin, hair that�s long or short and strong John was not a picky man, as long as they were attractive (let�s be honest, no ugo�s) and willing to have a night of fun.
        And he was not a young man often found alone; on any given night this young Casanova could be found with a young thing on at least one of his appendages with a smile on his face and an even bigger one on her�s. No one was really sure how he did it, he wasn�t an unattractive man but he was no Carey Grant. Some people said it was his intelligence (full scholarship to Notre Dame), his sense of humor (you have never laughed until you�ve heard his �Confused Spanish Girl� story), personally I found it was something that could not be explained, just the way he could hold the entire attention of a room in the palm of his hands (and take whatever he wanted from them).
        It was mid-July, he was back from college and ready to hit all of his old spots. It was mildly early in the night when he was working one of his favorite places; Adonia�s. He arrived with about five of his friends who (after quickly consuming an abundance of s****y beer) were chatting up a group of girls. John was ready to bounce for a new place when two girls of this little group caught his eye (and vice versa it seemed).
        The girl on the left wore a tight green shirt with some local band across her chest and the small pieces of cotton (at least 60%) clinging to all the right parts of her body. Her blonde hair reached towards her shoulders and perfectly framed her face with painfully sharp and beautiful features (and maybe a little too much make up but hey, who am I to judge?). However the perfection came right to her a*s, jutting out perfectly with the rest of the curves on her body with tight low-rider jeans showing off a hot pink thong.
        To her right was a petite little darling with her raven black flowing over her shoulders onto the small of her back. Judging by her face she seemed to be her friend�s exact opposite; her features were soft and sweet, her eyes had almost an inviting tone. However her dress sharply contrasted that sweet side she was giving off. A dress as dark as her hair and as tiny as she was; except for her legs. That tiny skirt showed off one of the most surprisingly gorgeous pair of legs that�s ever graced this earth.
        �Excuse me, but can I buy you two a drink?�
        �I�d like that,� the girl on the left, �I�m Cindy; this is my friend Claire.�
        �Hello,� the girl on the right, �thanks for the drinks. What�s your name?�
        �Well some call me John, others call me John too.�
        �Oh,� Cindy again, �look who�s mildly witty. So, John, you�re from around here?�
        And so the witty barroom banter continued. Both of the girls were interesting in their own respects; Cindy was very open and lightly cynical while Claire was simply and perfectly cute if a little shy.
        For the most part things were going perfectly. They were all interested in the same movies, shows, and bands, they shared a similar sense of humor, everyone was laughing and having a good time.
        Things were great, that is until John�s second drink arrived. Now John was no lightweight, he was a man who drank his fair share of competitors under the table; but to be safe tonight he was just drinking beer (when life grants you an opportunity like this you don�t want to miss just because you had a few too many). But after a few sips from his drink things became very strange. His vision blurred, voices became distant and muffled, his body starting feeling very numb; it was as if he wasn�t actually in the club but just watching it on TV or something.         
        Then the numbness (remember the numbness?) began creeping all over his body. He first felt it in his face and his neck shortly after, his head began rolling from side to side uncontrollably. Then it was his torso, as the strange and tingling feeling swept over his torso he began waving and shifting his entire body as if he was swaying to some band that wasn�t playing. Then the arms started to go, and he dropped his drink; when he could he looked at each arm and felt removed from all of this (he actually pitied the poor son of a b***h this was happening to until he remembered this was him). Finally it came to his legs, where he wobbled for a few moments until his full weight couldn�t hold on any longer and�crash.
        Things were very dark.
        When he came to John became more aware, still removed as if the whole thing was happening to someone on TV but more aware of where he was and what might happen.
        He woke up to a dark room, the only light shining dimly above his head. He was seated (not by choice) and tied to a wooden chair. The light was dim but swinging enough that he could make out two other figures in his cell, two thin men in dark suits it seemed each with short dark hair.
        �I think he�s starting to get up.�
        �F**k, I think so too. Time to go to work.�
        John quickly notices that those voices belonged to the men in suits in the corner and that those men were women. Not just women, the voices were strangely familiar; but John�s head was still buzzing enough that he couldn�t match the voices to any faces or names.
        The two women stepped into the light, and despite the change in hair (they must have been wearing wigs) their faces gave everything away.
        �I�m Agent 86,� (Cindy), �and this is my partner Agent 99� (Claire).
        �86 and I would appreciate you�re cooperation Mr. Abdul, you have some information we need. Trust me when I say things will go much simpler for you if you just tell us now.�
        �Um, I�m sorry but you guys must�ve had me confused with someone else. I�m John Malahi, you can check my driver�s license; it�s in my wallet.�
        �You can drop the alias Abdul;� Cindy (86) again, �we know all about Riyath Abdul, Iranian weapons dealer to some of the world�s dirtiest scumbags. You can also drop that American accent, it�s just embarrassing.�
        �What accent? I was born in Jersey! And while I hate to be the bearer of bad news I honestly don�t know anything about weapons or terrorists.�
        �Terrorists? Who said anything about terrorists? Is that your guilty conscience showing Mr. Abdul?�
        �Call it an educated guess. And please stop calling that Abdul guy, that s**t you gave me hasn�t really worn off yet; you keep it up I might think I am him.�
        Claire (99) steps back into the dark while 86 gets right in John�s face.
        �Listen dip s**t you�re not funny so you can cut the goddamn act already.�
        �Well maybe not in a classic �ha ha� sense, but I always thought I had a witty and cynical sense of humor, like a George Carlin in the eighties.�
        �F**k you; just because you don�t care about anyone�s life but your own doesn�t mean everyone thinks that way. We�re trying to save lives here but before we can continue we need some answers out of you!�
        �Well I�ll be glad to give you answers on presidential policies, or quadratic formulas, or hell I�ll tell you how I think the Yankees are going to do next season. But I�m afraid I can�t tell you s**t about weapons, terrorists, spies, or anything along those lines because I�m not this Riyath Abdul a*****e you think I am!�
        �Listen c**t-rag, I have a feeling your mother didn�t teach you much about caring for others but I bet the w***e taught you something about saving your own a*s. If you help us we can help you get out of this pile of s**t you found yourself in; if you don�t we can make every f*****g minute of your f*****g life more miserable than the last.�
        �Well I wont say much about my mother except she never taught me to talk like that.�
        86 storms back into the dark corner while 99 returns in front of John, this time with a very large and very sharp knife.
        �I�m sorry you got me but I�m telling you, you have the wrong guy!�
        �I assume you think a lot with your c**k?� 99 again, waving that knife around a little too playfully. �Not to sound insulting but you seem like that kind of guy. The problem is we don�t need you to think from your prick, we need answers from your brain.�
        �Where is this going? I�m sure we can work something out, let�s just not get crazy.�
        �So my idea is if we can somehow remove the body part that�s controlling your thoughts now your brain may take over,� as she�s explaining her theory 99 cut a hole right through the crotch of the pants John had on.
        �Listen you crazy b***h I�m not the guy you�re looking for!�
        �Talk or it�s gone,� a hole was cut through John�s underwear; now nothing was between 99�s knife and John�s penis.
        Sweat dripped from every pore on John�s body; the room was silent but all of John�s senses became extremely sensitive. He could hear 86 shuffling her feet in anticipation, whether it was for answers or for John getting cut he wasn�t quite sure. Everything became very real; John was never this sober or alert before in his entire life (a woman inches away from cutting off your c**k with a knife does that to you).
        John met his wide and fear ridden eyes to 99�s calm, almost bored ones. When he didn�t say anything she shrugged and prepared to hack.
        �99, 86, where the hell are you two?�
        99 put the knife down to answer the voice coming out of her watch.
        �We�re currently interrogating the target sir.�
        �What are you talking about? We have visual of Riyath Abdul preparing to leave the Moon Room at Club X. I don�t know why you two are waiting so long to make your move but you better hurry, he leaves in the morning.�
        �Sir you must be mistaken; Cindy pull up the visual�
        John started breathing again.
        Cindy pulled out a laptop and placed in on a table near the corner she was waiting on. Soon enough she pulled up a video of a greasy, middle-eastern man with a bad toupee pouring drinks into girls half his age in the Moon Room at Club X.
        �99, we have picked up the wrong target.�
        �No s**t Sherlock!� 99 was a little on edge.
        �Wait, you confused me with that s**t stain?!� John laughed, �I don�t look anything like him. Christ he�s old enough to be my dad!�
        �You�re both males of Middle-Eastern descent found in the center of the local club scene.�
        �I was born in f*****g Jersey!�
        Before he can continue John feels a needle go into his arm, then the numbness again, and then the darkness again.
        John woke up the next morning in the shirt he wore last night, but bare-a*s naked from the waste down.
        After this little encounter John swore off the club scene. Two or three years later John met a woman working in a local caf�. They were eventually married and moved to New York City, where they picked up an apartment in the Village and opened up a successful caf� of their own; they now are the proud parents of two children (one boy and one girl). And, to this day, John�s biggest erection comes when his lovely wife ties him to the bed.

Reviews

[Wellum Hulder]

Hey this is a cool story. it read really well and had good descriptions. Although the other reviewer enjoyed the final paragraph, I think I would omit the whole last paragraph and leave him with his bare a*s showing. I do find the last line about being tied down to the bed good, however. That is pretty funny. But think I would sacrifice it and cut out the last paragraph.
Thanks for posting and sharing your story. I appreciate it.
Wellum Hulder

[bailish]

I found your second paragraph to be a wonderful explanation. Good write!

One of my pet peeves is when a writer writes directly to the reader, as you did. Some may find this interesting, but I personally find it irritating, because it pulls me out of the story. I don't want to be self-conscious when I read.

Excellent description of the effect of the drink on him.

You're quite effective at showing instead of telling, but you could do with this some more. You still give a lot of information in direct dialogue.

One question -- where did he wake up without his pants?

Your ending had me LMAO!