06-18-2017, 01:47 AM
Isabelle stepped her way into the office, her knees shaky, her posture curved forward, she can’t imagine it had been a good first impression.
It had been hours since Rovin helped her put in her application for F Zero, it had been hours since they sent out the call for sponsors. Now she was appearing in person, here to present herself to one of the men that pay the bills.
He was huge! It was difficult to tell from him sitting, but he must of have been 8’0” at least! He was wide, too! He was almost triple Isabelle’s width! His desk alone towered over her like a skyscraper. She had never felt self conscious about her height before, but now she felt like an insect in a world of boots.
The man had a face that looked as if it were chiseled out of stone, with two sunken and dead eyes that scanned the dog top to bottom. He didn’t have a single hair on his head, not even eyebrows. Every other inch of his body was covered from head to toe in a magenta suit, with exception of his hands which adorned a brightly decorated rings on each finger.
She began to wonder if the man really was made of stone. Outside of of his eyes, whose gaze gave her chills, nothing about the man seemed to react to her presence whatsoever. He just sat there, his arms resting to the side as he just watched, and watched, and watched.
She gulped hard.
“Mr. Steady, sir?” She said, shakily.
“Please have a seat Ms. Belle.”
She stepped cautiously towards the nearest chair. Even this seat took a bit of a hop to get into. It took a minute to get herself centered, her butt didn’t even take up half the seat! She had a nervous thought about what kind of guests this man was expecting that could possibly fill seats like these.
“Ms. Belle.” He stated, his voice booming over her head.
She straightened out, her posture suddenly upright like a student in front of a strict teacher. She fixed her gaze on the man, even though he still gave her the willies.
“F Zero racing is not for the faint of heart. It is dangerous, and you may die. I hope you understand that.”
“That I do, sir.” She said, bowing in her seat.
“What is your aim? If you are desperate for money, I’m sure the place across the street was looking for girls like you.”
She remembered seeing the strip club that occupied the space across from there, “Animal House” it was called. Suddenly, the name of the place started to make a lot more sense. Honestly, she thought it was related to the movie somehow.
She felt her face go warm as she shook her head.
“I don’t care about money, I’m… doing this for love.”
Mr. Steady showed the first sign of a reaction the entire time since she had entered the room, he furrowed his naked brow ever so slightly.
“There’s this man I’ve long been separated from. I’m hoping if i’m famous he’ll be able to find me.” Her explanation behind her motives sound sillier under the weight of Mr. Steady’s sheer presence.
“So let me get this straight,” he began, he lurched forward to inspect her closer, “you’re risking your life entirely so a guy will notice you?”
She nodded quietly, feeling an odd blend of nervousness, terror, confusion, and depression all at once.
He leaned back in his chair which squeaked loudly under his weight. He was silent as the tension brewed in the air around him. Isabelle eyed him nervously, trying not to do anything to offend the man. Then, finally, he spoke.
“Friday, 9 am. Six days from today, is when you get you race.”
Suddenly, as the words landed in her head, all her anxieties washed away in one fell swoop as she leapt up in her chair with a huge smile on her face.
“One of my associates will show you to your car as well as the garage you may live in if you prefer. Modify the vehicle all you like as long as it abides by regulations.”
“Thank you Mr. Steady! You won’t regret this!” She said gleefully. She hopped off her seat and marched towards the door. “I won’t let you down!”
“I’m sure you won’t.” He said, watching the dog disappeared behind the exit.
He sat there alone in silence for a few minutes, before a strange squirrelly kind of man in red hair and writer’s vest entered the room. He stood at attention in front of his desk.
“This is not the army Mr. Belvet.”
The man took the hint and leapt up into the seat, plopping down and making eye contact with the man.
“So this Isabelle character, will she serve our purposes, sir?” He asked politely.
“She’s a moron, a grade A moron.” He began as he pulled a box out of the desk. “Anyone who takes a look at me and not immediately backs out is too dumb to live. She’s most likely not smart enough to even know she’s been had after seeing the car.
He pulled out a cigar from the box and sniffed it. He started feeling around one of the drawers
“I have to say, that plan of her’s must be top on the list of idiot plans. All the long timers race for either pocket money or for the kicks, no one here does it for love, nor do they do it entirely for fame.
“I only seen the champs get famous around here, and no way a rookie like her is going to take the gold. Even with a full deck of cards, she’d have better luck at getting famous by shaking her naked ass on the dataverse, and the sooner she realizes that’s where the real money is it, the better.”
He finally pulls out the matches, and strikes one, holding it up to the cigar in his mouth.
“What about her love story?” His associate mentioned, desperate to change from an uncomfortable subject matter. “A romantic angle, we could get some audience favor out of that!”
“You disappointment Mr. Belvet. Tier 2 had fogged your judgement.” He said sorrowfully as he took a long puff of smoke. “Tier 4 sold it’s heart for poker chips a long time ago.”
He took another puff as he looked off into space, his dead eyes burning a hole into a random spot in the adjacent wall.
“This is the town all poets go bankrupt.”
It had been hours since Rovin helped her put in her application for F Zero, it had been hours since they sent out the call for sponsors. Now she was appearing in person, here to present herself to one of the men that pay the bills.
He was huge! It was difficult to tell from him sitting, but he must of have been 8’0” at least! He was wide, too! He was almost triple Isabelle’s width! His desk alone towered over her like a skyscraper. She had never felt self conscious about her height before, but now she felt like an insect in a world of boots.
The man had a face that looked as if it were chiseled out of stone, with two sunken and dead eyes that scanned the dog top to bottom. He didn’t have a single hair on his head, not even eyebrows. Every other inch of his body was covered from head to toe in a magenta suit, with exception of his hands which adorned a brightly decorated rings on each finger.
She began to wonder if the man really was made of stone. Outside of of his eyes, whose gaze gave her chills, nothing about the man seemed to react to her presence whatsoever. He just sat there, his arms resting to the side as he just watched, and watched, and watched.
She gulped hard.
“Mr. Steady, sir?” She said, shakily.
“Please have a seat Ms. Belle.”
She stepped cautiously towards the nearest chair. Even this seat took a bit of a hop to get into. It took a minute to get herself centered, her butt didn’t even take up half the seat! She had a nervous thought about what kind of guests this man was expecting that could possibly fill seats like these.
“Ms. Belle.” He stated, his voice booming over her head.
She straightened out, her posture suddenly upright like a student in front of a strict teacher. She fixed her gaze on the man, even though he still gave her the willies.
“F Zero racing is not for the faint of heart. It is dangerous, and you may die. I hope you understand that.”
“That I do, sir.” She said, bowing in her seat.
“What is your aim? If you are desperate for money, I’m sure the place across the street was looking for girls like you.”
She remembered seeing the strip club that occupied the space across from there, “Animal House” it was called. Suddenly, the name of the place started to make a lot more sense. Honestly, she thought it was related to the movie somehow.
She felt her face go warm as she shook her head.
“I don’t care about money, I’m… doing this for love.”
Mr. Steady showed the first sign of a reaction the entire time since she had entered the room, he furrowed his naked brow ever so slightly.
“There’s this man I’ve long been separated from. I’m hoping if i’m famous he’ll be able to find me.” Her explanation behind her motives sound sillier under the weight of Mr. Steady’s sheer presence.
“So let me get this straight,” he began, he lurched forward to inspect her closer, “you’re risking your life entirely so a guy will notice you?”
She nodded quietly, feeling an odd blend of nervousness, terror, confusion, and depression all at once.
He leaned back in his chair which squeaked loudly under his weight. He was silent as the tension brewed in the air around him. Isabelle eyed him nervously, trying not to do anything to offend the man. Then, finally, he spoke.
“Friday, 9 am. Six days from today, is when you get you race.”
Suddenly, as the words landed in her head, all her anxieties washed away in one fell swoop as she leapt up in her chair with a huge smile on her face.
“One of my associates will show you to your car as well as the garage you may live in if you prefer. Modify the vehicle all you like as long as it abides by regulations.”
“Thank you Mr. Steady! You won’t regret this!” She said gleefully. She hopped off her seat and marched towards the door. “I won’t let you down!”
“I’m sure you won’t.” He said, watching the dog disappeared behind the exit.
He sat there alone in silence for a few minutes, before a strange squirrelly kind of man in red hair and writer’s vest entered the room. He stood at attention in front of his desk.
“This is not the army Mr. Belvet.”
The man took the hint and leapt up into the seat, plopping down and making eye contact with the man.
“So this Isabelle character, will she serve our purposes, sir?” He asked politely.
“She’s a moron, a grade A moron.” He began as he pulled a box out of the desk. “Anyone who takes a look at me and not immediately backs out is too dumb to live. She’s most likely not smart enough to even know she’s been had after seeing the car.
He pulled out a cigar from the box and sniffed it. He started feeling around one of the drawers
“I have to say, that plan of her’s must be top on the list of idiot plans. All the long timers race for either pocket money or for the kicks, no one here does it for love, nor do they do it entirely for fame.
“I only seen the champs get famous around here, and no way a rookie like her is going to take the gold. Even with a full deck of cards, she’d have better luck at getting famous by shaking her naked ass on the dataverse, and the sooner she realizes that’s where the real money is it, the better.”
He finally pulls out the matches, and strikes one, holding it up to the cigar in his mouth.
“What about her love story?” His associate mentioned, desperate to change from an uncomfortable subject matter. “A romantic angle, we could get some audience favor out of that!”
“You disappointment Mr. Belvet. Tier 2 had fogged your judgement.” He said sorrowfully as he took a long puff of smoke. “Tier 4 sold it’s heart for poker chips a long time ago.”
He took another puff as he looked off into space, his dead eyes burning a hole into a random spot in the adjacent wall.
“This is the town all poets go bankrupt.”
![[Image: eTZZc0W.jpg]](http://i.imgur.com/eTZZc0W.jpg)