"The fuck you did." Simon wasn't looking back at Jamie like he was lying. Not at all.
"Don't believe me," Simon barked back, with a grin. "Then I won't tell you how I did it."
Jamie studied him continuously, then quipped, "I'm not seeing it. I just don't see it, I'm sorry."
And Jamie had reason to doubt Simon. EVERY reason. Simon was a chubby twenty-something drop-out with greasy hair, who wore his sunglasses at night. Constantly tripping over his own shoe-laces and always wearing a shit-eatin' grin like he knew something everyone else didn't.
No way did this fucker get her in the sac. Not her.
"She lives in Westchester, right around the block. Believe me, I banged her. And with her sister in the next room."
"Not buyin' it, man."
Simon waited for him to ask. He shoveled some more French fries into his gnarly mouth and put his chin up proudly, bringing a Red Bull to his mouth.
Jamie couldn't stand the preening any longer. "You're gonna fuckin' tell me, so just spit it out."
Simon smiled from ear to ear and leaned in, like he was some fuckin' Mafioso.
"There's this chick, calls herself Rhea -- Rhea the Queen of Something -- Queen of I Dunno, whatever the shit -- anyways, she's got this ring and shit. Says she's got a way o' usin' it to be somebody else and shit, right? So I tell 'er, 'Ay, so, ah, who can I be?' And you don't believe what she says to me. Get this, she says, 'You can be David Lucado.' She fuckin' plants the seed in my head."
At this point, Simon sits back and takes a deep breath, looking off as if he sees something in his mind's eye.
"You're serious?"
"As a fuckin' heart attack, bro." Simon takes another sip of his Red Bull, which is mostly for show at this point. He even dribbles a little on his chin.
"I don't believe it."
"She tol' me deep personal shit, man. Like about her ex and shit. She's mad freaky in the sac though, for real."
He wasn't letting up. Jamie was starting to believe he was serious.
"You're telling me you fucked Britney Spears?"
"Til she sang like a fuckin' angel, dog. Best pussy in the world, let me tell you."
It couldn't have happened. Jamie'd known Simon for years, and always took him to be the biggest loser he'd ever met. And Simon knew he thought that about him, too. He knew that about all of his friends, none of them believing him capable of getting pussy he didn't have to pay for.
And now the tables were turned. This fuckin' guy, his loser friend, got his knob polished by Britney Fuckin' Spears.
He probably came inside her, too.
Jamie looked away, disgusted. More so with himself, he realized.
Simon continued, "You know, I could hook you up, bro. I still got the chick's number."
"Not big on sloppy seconds, thanks."
"Not her you asshole. Rhea. $2,000 gets you anywhere you wanna be. Worth every penny too, you know what I mean?" When he saw that Jamie was considering, he laughed and continued. "Ah! You got someone you wanna bang big time, look a'chew! Who is it? C'mon..."
Jamie couldn't resist him, and a small curl of a smile started to form. "You'll laugh."
"Nah! Tell me!"
"Avril Lavigne."
"No! Seriously? Haha! No I see that. She's mad hot, bro. Super cute. I'd hit that shit for sure!"
"You're serious? This chick could hook me up?"
"She'll make you look like someone else, but that's all. You gotta do everything else. And if anything goes, you know, south, well, she don't know you from Adam, know what I'm sayin'?"
"So I'd have to be... who? Her boyfriend?"
"Or someone she'd wanna fuck. Don't see her wantin' to fuck anybody else though, do you? I don't know shit about her though."
"Probably not. I don't even know who she's fuckin' these days."
Didn't matter, though. Jamie soon found out she was fuckin' some guy named Chad. He couldn't believe Avril was getting banged by a guy named Chad, and he soon felt an even greater desire for the petite young pop star.
When he left Simon at the Food Court table with the very imaginable promise of bedding her, he had the biggest, most throbbing hard-on of his life.
*
It didn't take him long to believe that Simon was putting him on, as the woman named Rhea turned out to be a 72-year old black woman with no teeth.
"See he'e chile! C'mon an' sit down hea!"
His reason for being here had still given him the erection of his life, and he suddenly felt very uncomfortable to have such a thing in his pants as he met this woman. And the woman must have known it the whole time. Revelled in it, in fact.
"Mama gon' do right by her chile, yes she is. Tell it how it gon' be, nah..."
"Uh... well, my friend Simon, he says that you..."
"Simon! Ah, yah, I do know that lil' boy, yes I do! Sweet lil' one, fell him in luv with a purty lil' thing. Yuh, I help 'im out. Help 'im get 'is lil' sweetie pie, yes I did. Ah! So you want I should get you some luvin' too, ain't ya? Iss what ya want to, ya, boy?"
He didn't have to say anything, she read his response.
"Ha! Mama is good. Still got it, she do! Okay, listen here... give me your lil' paws here, k chile?"
Jamie held out his palm and she took it, putting one of her hands on top and one below. She closed her eyes and seized on an image in her mind's eye, then started to smile.
She opened her eyes again, then looked him square in the eyes, as if she'd been exorcized by a demon.
"You got the money?"
Her voice was now sharp, and the abrupt change in character frightened Jamie at first. To which Rhea laughed hysterically.
"I never get enough of it. All you white boys, I just love fuckin' with ya. Make you think it's all voodoo and shit."