| General Fiction posted October 27, 2024 | Chapters: |
...38 38 -38- 38... 
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Have Fun!
A chapter in the book Detour
Begin Again's Version
by Begin Again
"Everyone, stop where you are and drop whatever is in your hands." A tall, muscular officer in full uniform stepped through the door with a bullhorn in hand. "Who's responsible for this mess?" His tone was deadly serious as he glanced around the room.
Everyone froze, their wide-eyed gazes doing major somersaults from one person to the next, searching for someone to take the blame. Suddenly, everyone was staring at Rachelle. Having put some distance between herself and Rachelle, Jane screeched, "She is, officer. She started the whole thing."
Rachelle moved in Janes's direction, fire blazing from her eyes. But the officer stepped in front of her, blocking her way. He stopped almost nose to nose with Rachelle. "Is that so? Did you start all this?"
Rachelle's chin jutted forward, refusing to appear weak, even if he was the police. "I guess you might say I did, but—"
The officer slapped his large hand on his butt and grinned as his hips moved to a silent beat. "I'm in charge of the butts, ma'am."
The officer raised the bullhorn again. "Alright, folks, we're shutting this down," he said with a straight face. The other officer rolled up his sleeves, ready to make some arrests.
Just then, a bottle of champagne accidentally popped nearby, spraying bubbles across the room. The officers look at each other, one of them smirking as he shrugged off his police jacket. The other officer nodded, turning up the bullhorn to announce, "Looks like we're going to have to take you down!"
Someone behind him cranked up the music — something disco — and he tossed the bullhorn aside. As he began swaying and loosening his shirt collar, he circled Rachelle, running his hands up and down her sides but not touching her. Everyone gasped.
"That's right, folks!" shouted another officer who'd just entered the room. "We heard this was a crime scene. Some of you aren't having enough fun. It's our duty to make sure justice is served."
They pulled off their police jackets, revealing glittery suspenders and bow ties. People in the room burst into laughter, some clapping along as the strippers took to the floor, shaking their booties at the now-blushing Rachelle, who couldn't stop laughing as she was pulled into the spotlight.
Gretchen crawled out from under the table with the champagne bottle still in her hand. She hiccuped. "Rach, what's going on? Are we going to get arrested?"
One of the officers lifted Gretchen into the air and flipped her through his legs. Gretchen squealed, and the low-life Dixie chick screamed, "Ride 'em, cowboy!"
The original shock gave way to roars of laughter, and the officers-turned-strippers worked the room, stopping to kiss Helen and LJButterfly on the cheek and moving on to dance a quick cha—cha—cha with Barbara. Soon, everyone was taking impromptu selfies with all the dancers.
Music continued to blast, and suddenly, they were dancing across the room, popping champagne bottles and tossing cans of whipped cream into the crowd. Rachelle and Gretchen, both still laughing hysterically, got whipped cream sprayed on their heads like tiaras, and people started cheering.
The officers began a full-on routine, turning the buffet into their stage. They even pulled Ric MyWorld up on their stage and stripped off his shirt. He felt right at home and joined in.
After finishing with another hot disco song, they formed a line and exited the door. The first officer picked up the bullhorn and said, "Remember, ladies and gentlemen, the only crime tonight is if you don't have a good time." The crowd erupted, cheering as they waved goodbye.
Gretchen laughed hysterically and asked Rachelle, "What happened to Jane?"
Rachelle glanced around the room and shrugged. "Darned if I know."
Overhearing the conversation, Roy provided the answer. "I saw an officer showing her his handcuffs, and I think she went with him."
Gretchen's mouth dropped open. "You mean —"
Before Gretchen could finish her sentence, Carol strolled into the room, dressed to impress in her bold red dress. She tossed her blonde hair, giving everyone a mischievous smile as the DJ cranked up Donna Summer's "Hot Stuff."
"Come on, everybody!" she shouted, raising a glass. "It's time to Begin Again."
Her hips swayed to the beat, and within moments, the room burst back to life. Even Rachelle, still wiping whipped cream from her hair, joined in, laughing as Gretchen pulled her onto the dance floor. People clinked champagne glasses and posed for photos with whipped cream mustaches and champagne toasts.
Just then, a stripper returned, holding up a second bullhorn. "Remember, folks —what happens at FanStory stays at FanStory!" he yelled, winking as he waved goodbye.
The night continued with wild dancing, laughter, and enough photos to fill the following year's "Best of FanStory" scrapbook. And somewhere in the chaos, Jane was last seen "getting a private tour" of the police van, handcuffs and all.
"Everyone, stop where you are and drop whatever is in your hands." A tall, muscular officer in full uniform stepped through the door with a bullhorn in hand. "Who's responsible for this mess?" His tone was deadly serious as he glanced around the room.
Everyone froze, their wide-eyed gazes doing major somersaults from one person to the next, searching for someone to take the blame. Suddenly, everyone was staring at Rachelle. Having put some distance between herself and Rachelle, Jane screeched, "She is, officer. She started the whole thing."
Rachelle moved in Janes's direction, fire blazing from her eyes. But the officer stepped in front of her, blocking her way. He stopped almost nose to nose with Rachelle. "Is that so? Did you start all this?"
Rachelle's chin jutted forward, refusing to appear weak, even if he was the police. "I guess you might say I did, but—"
The officer slapped his large hand on his butt and grinned as his hips moved to a silent beat. "I'm in charge of the butts, ma'am."
The officer raised the bullhorn again. "Alright, folks, we're shutting this down," he said with a straight face. The other officer rolled up his sleeves, ready to make some arrests.
Just then, a bottle of champagne accidentally popped nearby, spraying bubbles across the room. The officers look at each other, one of them smirking as he shrugged off his police jacket. The other officer nodded, turning up the bullhorn to announce, "Looks like we're going to have to take you down!"
Someone behind him cranked up the music — something disco — and he tossed the bullhorn aside. As he began swaying and loosening his shirt collar, he circled Rachelle, running his hands up and down her sides but not touching her. Everyone gasped.
"That's right, folks!" shouted another officer who'd just entered the room. "We heard this was a crime scene. Some of you aren't having enough fun. It's our duty to make sure justice is served."
They pulled off their police jackets, revealing glittery suspenders and bow ties. People in the room burst into laughter, some clapping along as the strippers took to the floor, shaking their booties at the now-blushing Rachelle, who couldn't stop laughing as she was pulled into the spotlight.
Gretchen crawled out from under the table with the champagne bottle still in her hand. She hiccuped. "Rach, what's going on? Are we going to get arrested?"
One of the officers lifted Gretchen into the air and flipped her through his legs. Gretchen squealed, and the low-life Dixie chick screamed, "Ride 'em, cowboy!"
The original shock gave way to roars of laughter, and the officers-turned-strippers worked the room, stopping to kiss Helen and LJButterfly on the cheek and moving on to dance a quick cha—cha—cha with Barbara. Soon, everyone was taking impromptu selfies with all the dancers.
Music continued to blast, and suddenly, they were dancing across the room, popping champagne bottles and tossing cans of whipped cream into the crowd. Rachelle and Gretchen, both still laughing hysterically, got whipped cream sprayed on their heads like tiaras, and people started cheering.
The officers began a full-on routine, turning the buffet into their stage. They even pulled Ric MyWorld up on their stage and stripped off his shirt. He felt right at home and joined in.
After finishing with another hot disco song, they formed a line and exited the door. The first officer picked up the bullhorn and said, "Remember, ladies and gentlemen, the only crime tonight is if you don't have a good time." The crowd erupted, cheering as they waved goodbye.
Gretchen laughed hysterically and asked Rachelle, "What happened to Jane?"
Rachelle glanced around the room and shrugged. "Darned if I know."
Overhearing the conversation, Roy provided the answer. "I saw an officer showing her his handcuffs, and I think she went with him."
Gretchen's mouth dropped open. "You mean —"
Before Gretchen could finish her sentence, Carol strolled into the room, dressed to impress in her bold red dress. She tossed her blonde hair, giving everyone a mischievous smile as the DJ cranked up Donna Summer's "Hot Stuff."
"Come on, everybody!" she shouted, raising a glass. "It's time to Begin Again."
Her hips swayed to the beat, and within moments, the room burst back to life. Even Rachelle, still wiping whipped cream from her hair, joined in, laughing as Gretchen pulled her onto the dance floor. People clinked champagne glasses and posed for photos with whipped cream mustaches and champagne toasts.
Just then, a stripper returned, holding up a second bullhorn. "Remember, folks —what happens at FanStory stays at FanStory!" he yelled, winking as he waved goodbye.
The night continued with wild dancing, laughter, and enough photos to fill the following year's "Best of FanStory" scrapbook. And somewhere in the chaos, Jane was last seen "getting a private tour" of the police van, handcuffs and all.
Everyone froze, their wide-eyed gazes doing major somersaults from one person to the next, searching for someone to take the blame. Suddenly, everyone was staring at Rachelle. Having put some distance between herself and Rachelle, Jane screeched, "She is, officer. She started the whole thing."
Rachelle moved in Janes's direction, fire blazing from her eyes. But the officer stepped in front of her, blocking her way. He stopped almost nose to nose with Rachelle. "Is that so? Did you start all this?"
Rachelle's chin jutted forward, refusing to appear weak, even if he was the police. "I guess you might say I did, but—"
The officer slapped his large hand on his butt and grinned as his hips moved to a silent beat. "I'm in charge of the butts, ma'am."
The officer raised the bullhorn again. "Alright, folks, we're shutting this down," he said with a straight face. The other officer rolled up his sleeves, ready to make some arrests.
Just then, a bottle of champagne accidentally popped nearby, spraying bubbles across the room. The officers look at each other, one of them smirking as he shrugged off his police jacket. The other officer nodded, turning up the bullhorn to announce, "Looks like we're going to have to take you down!"
Someone behind him cranked up the music — something disco — and he tossed the bullhorn aside. As he began swaying and loosening his shirt collar, he circled Rachelle, running his hands up and down her sides but not touching her. Everyone gasped.
"That's right, folks!" shouted another officer who'd just entered the room. "We heard this was a crime scene. Some of you aren't having enough fun. It's our duty to make sure justice is served."
They pulled off their police jackets, revealing glittery suspenders and bow ties. People in the room burst into laughter, some clapping along as the strippers took to the floor, shaking their booties at the now-blushing Rachelle, who couldn't stop laughing as she was pulled into the spotlight.
Gretchen crawled out from under the table with the champagne bottle still in her hand. She hiccuped. "Rach, what's going on? Are we going to get arrested?"
One of the officers lifted Gretchen into the air and flipped her through his legs. Gretchen squealed, and the low-life Dixie chick screamed, "Ride 'em, cowboy!"
The original shock gave way to roars of laughter, and the officers-turned-strippers worked the room, stopping to kiss Helen and LJButterfly on the cheek and moving on to dance a quick cha—cha—cha with Barbara. Soon, everyone was taking impromptu selfies with all the dancers.
Music continued to blast, and suddenly, they were dancing across the room, popping champagne bottles and tossing cans of whipped cream into the crowd. Rachelle and Gretchen, both still laughing hysterically, got whipped cream sprayed on their heads like tiaras, and people started cheering.
The officers began a full-on routine, turning the buffet into their stage. They even pulled Ric MyWorld up on their stage and stripped off his shirt. He felt right at home and joined in.
After finishing with another hot disco song, they formed a line and exited the door. The first officer picked up the bullhorn and said, "Remember, ladies and gentlemen, the only crime tonight is if you don't have a good time." The crowd erupted, cheering as they waved goodbye.
Gretchen laughed hysterically and asked Rachelle, "What happened to Jane?"
Rachelle glanced around the room and shrugged. "Darned if I know."
Overhearing the conversation, Roy provided the answer. "I saw an officer showing her his handcuffs, and I think she went with him."
Gretchen's mouth dropped open. "You mean —"
Before Gretchen could finish her sentence, Carol strolled into the room, dressed to impress in her bold red dress. She tossed her blonde hair, giving everyone a mischievous smile as the DJ cranked up Donna Summer's "Hot Stuff."
"Come on, everybody!" she shouted, raising a glass. "It's time to Begin Again."
Her hips swayed to the beat, and within moments, the room burst back to life. Even Rachelle, still wiping whipped cream from her hair, joined in, laughing as Gretchen pulled her onto the dance floor. People clinked champagne glasses and posed for photos with whipped cream mustaches and champagne toasts.
Just then, a stripper returned, holding up a second bullhorn. "Remember, folks —what happens at FanStory stays at FanStory!" he yelled, winking as he waved goodbye.
The night continued with wild dancing, laughter, and enough photos to fill the following year's "Best of FanStory" scrapbook. And somewhere in the chaos, Jane was last seen "getting a private tour" of the police van, handcuffs and all.
 Recognized |
#11 October 2024 |
Multi-Author Book
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