tagHumor & SatireWho the Fuck Are You, Anyway? Ch. 6

Who the Fuck Are You, Anyway? Ch. 6


It was Wednesday morning, the day of Tim’s singing performance at the Chihuahua Club. Susanne Simpson and Richard Smart were already there, waiting for Tim to arrive. They sat at a table near the stage. They were looking through a stack of resumes and photos, deciding on their next victim, as Tim was coming to the end of his six weeks with them.

“We’ll need a contrast from ‘Timid Tim’…”

“Yeah, I agree Rick… I think it’s down to either ‘Gay Gordon’ or ‘Fat Karen’.”

“We’ve done ‘fat’ last series, Su.”

Susanne sighed heavily. “You know, I’m pretty fed up with all this. The series is stale. We’ve been through every type of sad fuck on this planet. I dunno, maybe in six months we can do a ‘Where Are They Now?’ on some of them.”

“I bet Tim will have quit his job. Maybe he’ll go into music.”

“I’ll take that bet. He’s too much of a coward.

“But he does have a good voice, Su.”

“I know. I’ve heard him. He projects his voice well. Of course I had to give him a little encouragement.”

Richard knew straightaway what encouragement meant: He wagged a finger at Susanne. “Su, you’ve been a naughty girl again!”

“Only to keep him from crapping out of the show completely. You know, on Sunday he’d decided on quitting, so I went over to talk to him. Somehow I ended up shagging the poor guy stupid. I’ll be surprised if he can still walk. You know me. I’m just a pathetic little nympho.”

Richard laughed, showing dimples and flashing a row of pearly teeth. “I certainly do.”

Susanne smiled at him. “I really wish you weren’t such a pillow-biting fag, Rick: I’d love to do you sometime.”

“You have. You don’t remember. You were pissed.”

“Really? How was I?”

“Pretty good, considering you don’t have a knob.”

As they were talking, some musicians arrived and started setting up their equipment. Susanne looked up at them. “What’s this? I thought it was going to be Karaoke.”

“They’re good. A mate of mine is managing them. Don’t worry; they’re not expecting to be paid. Come on, Su, please.”

“That drummer is nice. Introduce me to him, and they can stay.”

- - - - - - -

Tim arrived, and searched around in the gloom for them. Susanne beckoned him over.

She kissed him on the cheek. He caught a whiff of her perfume; his cock stirred.

“Hi, darling. Sit down. Nervous?”

Tim nodded. Richard clapped him on the shoulder. “Good. A little adrenalin before a show is good. You know I still --”

“-- get nervous before a shoot. I know. You told me.” Tim was in no mood for any more coaching.

“Ok, Tim. Sorry. You’re right. I’ll shut up.”

“I’m Sorry, Richard, I had a bad night. Nerves. I had a weird dream: Susanne and Sarah Maxwell and Lar -- another woman were all in this a car, and they asked me if I wanted a lift to the club. But I said no, I had a cab booked already, but the cab driver was Beth, and Alice and Dave were in the back, so I sat in the front.”

“Beth’s singing tonight after you. I hope you don’t mind. A friend of mine is a talent scout looking for black female artistes. And she’s got a good voice.”

- - - - - - -

Finally it was time. Susanne, Richard and Tanya were in Tim’s dressing room, where they had just given him a final pep talk, in front of the WT-FAY cameras. Tim had said that he was literally shitting himself with fear. “I guess you’ll edit that bit out.”

Susanne shrugged. “Why? Crapping your pants is right in character. It’s what ‘Timid Tim’ is all about.”

“Is that what you lot call me? ‘Timid Tim’? You assholes. You fucking assholes. You know you --”

Susanne grabbed his shoulders and kissed his lips affectionately, almost maternally. “Don’t worry, Tim, we love you. Really. Get up there and enjoy it.”

Tim did enjoy it. He sang his heart out. He was almost oblivious to the crowd, who in any case were hardly visible in the gloom beyond the dazzling stage lights. Richard’s mate’s backing band were really good players. They made him sound like a real professional. And half of them were black! He’d always dreamed of singing with a real black soul band.

After he finished, he smiled blithely, listening to the applause and cheers. Although he couldn’t see them, he knew his mother and sister were somewhere in the audience, along with Alice and Beth… and Sarah Maxwell. The musicians smiled and clapped him too, though he felt they were congratulating him more on his bravery than his talent. After all, he was really still an amateur.

The MC came up and got the audience to applaud again. “Tim Pearson, ladies and gentlemen.”

Tim walked off the stage down into the audience, on his way to the dressing room. The applause died down. The M.C. continued: “And now, please welcome to the stage… Beth White, ladies and gentlemen, Beth White!”

Tim stopped and turned. Beth stepped up on stage. She looked gorgeous. She wore a short blue dress that showed her nicely muscled legs, and low-cut to show the frills of a lacy white bra cut low enough to reveal cleavage between her full tits. She had tied up her straightened hair, and worn a pair of very large but delicate earrings, which enhanced her high cheekbones. Her large, blue-brown lips shone as she smiled. Tim stared. At a table nearby a middle-aged black couple cheered loudly.

“Your daughter?” Tim mouthed at them.

They nodded. “And my son on drums!” shouted the mother.

Beth’s mother beckoned Tim to sit with them, at Beth’s vacant seat. He was about to say no, as his mother, sister, friends and the WT-FAY team were expecting him backstage, but changed his mind. He was curious to hear Beth. More than curious.

Beth’s mother put a hand on his arm. “That was lovely singing. Tim, Lovely. And such a lovely song. Did you know --”

“Doris, quiet! I don’t want to hear you nattering away when my daughter is about to sing!”

Beth began. She sang Alicia Key’s “Falling”. Tim’s heart leapt. She had a beautiful voice. He felt the hairs on his arms stand on end, and tears welled up in his eyes. Her mother whispered, “She used to sing in the choir. Did she tell you? She used to sing in church, when she was a little girl. A voice like a sad little angel.”

When Beth had finished, there were loud cheers. Tim stood and clapped loudly while she came off the stage and skipped back to her table. He rose to give her back her seat. She looked startled when she noticed him, and for some reason, her smile faded. He suddenly felt awkward and shy. He shook her hand. “That was incredible. Beth, that was so – amazing.”

“Thanks. And congratulations to you!”

“Me! No, I’m no singer. I just – no, I’m not a real singer. You had me in tears.”

“Oh. Yes, well, thanks. I’ve been singing since I was little. But, I meant congratulations on getting Alice and Dave back together. Dave told me you convinced him he was being a bit stupid.”

“I really didn’t do much.”

Beth raised her eyebrows. “That’s not what Dave told me. He told me you persuaded him to get back together with Alice. And then he told me he came back down to find you that he’d decided to go back to her, but couldn’t find you in the bar. And then guess what he told me?”

Tim blanched. “Wh – what did he tell you?”

“He told me that the barman saw you leave with a hooker. God, Tim, you really are…” Beth sighed. “I know it’s not my business, but why? It’s so unlike you. Are you so desperate to make up for lost time?”

Tim was surprised and angry that she felt she could talk this way to him. She was damn office colleague, not a friend. What business was it of hers who he fucked? But it was her ‘It’s so unlike you’ that raised his hackles so suddenly.

“One: She wasn’t a hooker. Two: You’re right; it’s not your business. Three: I’m not desperate; I enjoy it. I enjoyed fucking her – her name’s Lara by the way. I also enjoyed fucking Susanne Simpson, although to be more accurate she fucked me; and I enjoyed fucking Sarah Maxwell. Up the ass. And I’d probably enjoy fucking you too.”

“Unfortunately you’ll never find out, creep.”

Tim, overcome with shame at his outburst, turned and fled out of the club, forgetting the crowd in the dressing room waiting to congratulate him. Beth was left sobbing in her mother’s arms.

He stood and paced in the alleyway outside, shivering. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt, and it was the dead of winter.

Beth had been out of order. And on top of it, he had to face it: she’d stolen his limelight by completely outclassing him with her singing.
But why had he been so damn rude to her? She was right: He was unlike the Tim everybody knew. But maybe that was what he really was like, all along, inside, and had been bottling it up all these years. Who the Fuck Are You, Anyway.

“You can run, but you can’t hide!”

Susanne’s voice made him jump.

“You’ll freeze your bollocks off out here. Poor little Timmy.”

She stroked his bare goose-pimpled arms with the back of her finger. He felt himself calming down. And his cock stirred again. She really had something about her.

“You did great, Tim. Really great. I was creaming myself when you sang. It reminded me of Sunday. That was fun, wasn’t it? Sex is fun, Timmy. Remember that, darling.”

She stood facing him. She pulled him gently towards her by the lapels of his shirt till their bodies pushed against each other. He shuddered as they made contact. She ran her arms up and down his back and sucked hard at his neck. She looked, and laughed.

“I’ve given to give you a huge love-bite. Now everyone will know we’ve done it.”

She arched her own neck, and he kissed it. Slowly she hoisted her skirt and guided his hand to her crotch. She squeezed his hand between her legs and slithered over him.

She released his hand and pushed her tights halfway down her thighs. In her jacket, with her tights rolled down, she reminded him of a dancer from the Folies Bergere.

“Drop your trousers, Timid Tim, and fuck me. That’s right.”

Under the yellow lamplight, they fucked. He felt as though they were part of a Brassai photo. She was very different from Sunday, gentle and affectionate.

He came, deep inside her, sighing, “I love you… I love you…”

When it was over she pulled up her tights in a business-like way and said, “No you don’t. You don’t love me, and I don’t love you. I don’t love anyone. You’re in love already, and you don’t even fucking know who you’re in love with! You’ve got a lot of work to do if you want Beth to go for you now.”

“Beth?? Are you crazy!” As he said it, he recalled his dream. And he remembered how happy he had felt in the dream, sitting in the front seat of the car next to Beth. Suddenly he remembered more of the dream…she had put her hand on his knee…

“Oh, Fuck. Fuck. I’ve so blown it.”

“No you haven’t. All you have to do is apologize. Really apologize. And don’t worry about the love-bite. She’ll see it as a challenge. And it’ll make you more desirable to her. Believe me, that’s how we women work. Ask her out. We’ll film the date so you can show your children how Mummy and Daddy first met.” She laughed, her eyes sparkling as she considered the WT-FAY spin-off potential of a wedding.

Tim shook his head slowly. Suddenly a nearby door opened – it was the fire exit of the club. He saw Alice and Dave. Dave shouted, “There he is! There’s the star! Come back in and sign autographs! Your public needs you!” And they linked arms either side of him and took him back inside.

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