Page 9 of Last Minion Standing
Since he didn’t seem ready to press the issues—or any other parts of my body, the jerk—I jabbed the button to resume the elevator’s descent.
He said not a word in reply, but his eyes watched me, and I restrained an urge to squirm under his intent scrutiny. Good thing I’d worn panties today because they caught the seeping moisture his mere presence caused. While I might hide the evidence of my arousal, he, on the other hand, couldn’t hide the bulging erection in his jeans. A very impressive bulge. For me.
My mouth watered, and I swallowed with disappointment—saliva just wasn’t the same as fresh cream.
“See you around.” I waved with false cheer as I exited the elevator, a little annoyed when he didn’t reply or follow.
No matter. I had more important things to attend to, and I definitely didn’t feel bummed when he didn’t try to trail me or convince me to get better acquainted. What a tease.
Miffed—and annoyingly aroused—I made my way to Hell’s coliseum. Slowly, I managed to change my focus from Drake to the upcoming reality show. It still blew my mind it was happening. I mean, look at everything Jezzie had accomplished in such a short time.
As I neared the giant coliseum, I slowed my step, and not just because the massive height of the stone block structure inspired awe. It did. I mean, who wouldn’t be impressed by the number of battles and contests and concerts that had graced this venue? But it wasn’t those memories of the times I’d stripped my shirt, screamed my lust, and tossed my bra at the lead singer that made me stop and stare. It was the crowd.
A stream of demons and damned went through the various entrances. and I wondered if I’d gotten the time wrong for my own appearance. Surely they couldn’t all be here for my first minion elimination round?
But as it turned out, they were, at least according to the snippets of conversation I heard.
“There she is. Wow, she’s even hotter in person.”
“I wouldn’t mind being her sidekick, if you know what I mean.”
“Think if I’m bad, she’ll come punish me?”
I preened under the comments. I also smiled and waved as more and more heads began to turn and hands pointed. I could have done without the ass slaps and pinches, though. I’d have bruises tonight for sure.
I spotted Jezzie’s familiar pigtails bobbing at the main entrance and headed toward her.
“What’s up with the crowd?” I said.
“I told you this thing was taking off.” Jezzie beamed. “Now come on, we’ve got to get you ready for your first official appearance.”
A group of vultures, who claimed official positions like hair and makeup, attacked me when we reached the bowels of the coliseum. The clothes I’d chosen were torn from my body, and I found myself clad in a red latex suit meant to leave little to the imagination—kind of like most of my wardrobe actually.
Jezzie wisely stayed out of reach—smart demon, for had she gotten close enough, I would have wrung her neck. I’d gone past snowball. This had turned into a hurricane, and its gale force now flung me around like a rag doll. Before I could say, “Boo”—although I managed to exclaim “Fuck” a few times—I found myself behind a blood-red curtain on stage.
I looked to the wings on my left and mouthed at Jezzie. “What the fuck do I do now?”
“Just follow the emcee’s lead.”
Emcee? Sure enough, I heard a booming voice on the other side of the silken barricade.
“Good afternoon, denizens of Hell. Are you ready for the first round in Last Sidekick Standing?”
A roar met his words, and if my feet hadn’t been frozen as if stuck in heavy cement shoes, I would have run, really, really far.
Instead, my mouth got dry, my hands clammy, and when the curtain suddenly pulled away, the bright lights blinded me. I made a mental note to place an ad looking for a new roommate because the one I had was going to die shortly. Cowardice thankfully didn’t run in my family, though. I sucked in my stomach and smiled. The crowd cheered.
Their adulation helped me regain a bit of my equilibrium. But having not prepared a speech, I faked it. “Yo, friends and enemies of Hell, I am glad you got your asses here because, as you’ve probably heard, I need a minion.”
“Sidekick!” someone out of sight hissed.
My elevated middle finger to the idiot daring to interfere with my awesome speech was met with cheers. Ha. The crowd loved me, and I relaxed.
“As a bounty hunter for Hell, tasked with dragging back the most vile of escapees, I find myself in need of a minion, someone capable of enhancing my greatness and aiding me on my quest to make money so I can buy shoes.” The female component of the crowd went wild. Would you look at that? I was a natural at this. “But not just any minion will do. He must be the best of the best. The hottest of the hottest. Today we’re going to test some of the applicants and see if they have what it takes.” Unsure of what they had planned—no one had deigned to inform me—I raised an arm and lowered it, shouting, “Let the games begin.”
Stamping, clapping, and whistling made the stage shiver. What a rush. Without my noticing, a throne appeared behind me. Sweet. I sat in the monstrous chair and waited with bated breath like everyone else to see what would happen next.
Like the Roman coliseum of old, the stadium seating and stage surrounded an inner open area with massive, iron-bound doors ringing it. Mere mortals would have cringed to hear about some of the famous bloody events that had played out here over the centuries. It also featured great acoustics for concerts.