>>20026970>[From behind, an obnoxious wolf whistle draws Kelly's attention.]"Musta known this wazza place, listen that shithouse 'myoo-sick' if ya can even corl it that. Well faaaark moy. Oi reckon if Oi was a cah-toon wolf, me eyes'd be poppin' roight outta me head, tongue rollin' on the floor, hittin meself wiff a hammer or summin'? Oi dunno, whatevah. But nah, fucken' ay, mate. Oi see ya on TV 'n' backstage, but Oi ain't nevah seen ya loik"--
>[An attendant walks over and begins to speak, but is cut off. Sheila puts one arm around Kelly.]>Dress code is bik--"Oi, git fucked, ya dirty dog cunt, Oi know the fucken dress code. Is corled a fucken 'Bah-koini pah-ty', innit? Carn't ya see Oi'm fucken torkin' wiff me mate?"
"Jesus fucken Chroist, summa these dickheads. Got fucken grilled on me way up, be-faw, toos. Buncha hoired fucken security pups got lost the moment Oi said I was Pra-sillah, nyeh heh heh. Dunno how that shit orl-ways works. Speaken of, a buncha them Davoin Model cunts was up around 'ere, 'n' all of them looks like steamin' piss, compared ta youse, love."
>[Sheila takes in Kelly one more time, letting her eyes linger on Kelly's perfect, round... blue eyes. Sheila can't contain a goofy smile. The tension is palpable. The two begin to lean in, ever so slightly. Their hands are warm on each other's hips, and right now, the two of them could just]--"Orright, Oi bettah git changed, mate. Wun' be a tick."