"I want you two to understand that I have in my hand a videotape of what happened before last night's concert. I don't think that either of you would want that tape to fall into the wrong hands now would you?" Mr. Byron Willet the Civic Center manager said as we all stood in Faith Hill's dressing room the night of her second concert in town.
"No, we wouldn't," Faith answered her face turning a bright crimson color as she looked at Mr. Willet.
"Of course not," I said as I stood there looking down at the little fat man who was holding a videotape in his hand.
"I have a bargin that I would like to make to both of you," Mr. Willet said as I noticed that before he even told us he was getting an erection as his pants started to tent up. "If you will let him fuck you in the ass while I watch and jerk myself off I will let you two have the pleasure of owning the tape, if not I will post it on the Internet and your CDs will be in the bargin bin with the Dixie Chicks in about a week, and you Mr. Jackson, you won't be a reporter anymore," Mr. Willet told both myself and Faith.
"Not much of a choice," I said to Faith as I thought about the two options.