LogFAQs > #945754069

A) Buy Lennox a saison.

After finishing your fourth saison, Miss Weiner is officially on the hunt. Your eyes shift between Lennox and Untitled. Out of the corner of your eye you spot Caleb staring at you. When you meet his gaze, he gives you a half-smile and an uninspired wave that rattles the "RHYMER" sign around his neck. You make sure to make direct eye contact while giving him a violent thumbs down. He was brave for trying, however.

You don't mean to be cruel, but sometimes cruelty can be a time saver. There's nothing worthwhile to say to Caleb because he had an opportunity to say something worthwhile to you on that stage and he didn't. His big moment was him telling everyone that his life was better before the government put horny pills in the water supply. No shit, Caleb! Fuck. And he fucking rhymed it! But with Untitled, there's a man of rage. Not a violent rage, but a righteous rage that he can channel and articulate into results. He overcame so much adversity just to claim his identity, and now others are trying to attach themselves to it. All while sneaking around and fucking on the weekends, as if having sex on Fifth Avenue doesn't count. Hell, you do it too. Looking at Untitled makes you feel like the worst version of yourself is who you really are. And if that weren't enough, there's one unsolvable problem with making Untitled your prey.

But Lennox is a man who knows what he wants. He's not afraid to say what he wants. And he wants everyone to see him as he gets what he wants. "I'm going to go buy Lennox a saison."
"Are you joking?" Candace asks.
"Absolutely not."
"He's going to smell like pork."
"He better."
"You need a cold shower."
You bite your lower lip. "I'll take a pork bath."
"What?"
"Cover your eyes, Candace. It could get bloody."
"In the pork bath? Whatever, I'm going to talk to Untitled. He's much taller and probably smells like an alpine spring."
"What?"
"An alpine spring," repeats Candace.
You try to find the right way phrase it, but ultimately you just come out and ask, "Candace, you know he's asexual, right?"
"A sexual what?" asks Candace.
"Nevermind, he'll tell you himself. You go... you give it your best."

Your neck snaps back to Lennox. Walk. Walk. Walk. Walk. Strut. Walk. Walk. Walk. Walk. Strut. That's one strut for every four steps. No one could ever say you were strutting through the bar. People can gasp at the one strut and think, "Did Miss Weiner just strut? Is she strutting? Oh no, my mistake. There's four consecutive non-strut steps. My eyes are playing tricks on me." But then the strut kicks in again and they'll forever have their doubts if you were strutting or not.

You arrive at Lennox's table. He saw you approach. He must have seen at least three struts. You sit down on a stool next to his. He opens his mouth. Here it is. His opening line - just dripping with genuine concern, "Are you okay? I have a cousin who has scoliosis. He would walk like that sometimes."
My, my, my. Isn't someone a curious cat? This wasn't the intended effect, but he will forever have his doubts about your fervent scoliosis denial. "My backbone is as straight as the Prime Meridian. it's a shame my head grew there to stop it."
"I'm... I'm glad. Both about the straight backbone and the existing head attached to it."
"And I'm glad to meet a man who's not afraid to say what he wants."
Lennox smiles. "And what do you want, Miss Weiner?"
Your heart misses a beat. "You recognize me?"
"Please, your father is one of the wealthiest men in the city. You could be on the cover of Socialite Magazine."
You overcome the urge to ask if Socialite Magazine is real. You'll Google it later and if it is, you'll be on the cover within a month. "Well, to be perfectly honest - all I want right now is a bite of that currywurst."
Lennox thinks it over. "Ah, what the hell?" He pins the end with his fork a takes a knife to the flesh. Once the blade punctures the coating, a spurt of grease shoots out of the opening and onto the table.
"Oops," falls out of your mouth in a breathy whisper.
Steam rises from the meat as Lennox has severed the link between chunk and shaft. "Careful, it's hot," he warns. "You might want to blow on it."
"I will if I could get some help."
You lock eyes with Lennox as your faces descend to the fork. You both halt inches away and loose streams of cool air onto the steaming meat. His stream smells like pork.

You're startled out of your trance by an abrupt, "Everything okay over here?"
"Jesus Chr-!" you jump as you separate from Lennox.
"She's not bothering you, is she?" the waiter asks him.
"No, she's not-"
"What the fuck kind of question is that?" you interrupt.
The waiter responds, "It's just earlier you said you were horny, and now you're over here fraternizing with this patron, and I thought-"
"You thought I better not mind my own fucking business, apparently."
The waiter drops his customer service faade and tells you plainly, "Remember where you are, Miss Weiner."
You give him your most insincere smile. "I'd advise you to do the same. Two saisons. Please."
The waiter sighs as he shuffles away.

Lennox seems perplexed by the interaction you just had. "What is public horniness a crime on Fifth Avenue?"
You gingerly take the currywurst off the fork and chuck it into your mouth. "Might as well be."
"And are you still?" Lennox asks.
"Still what?"
"Publicly horny."
You take a deep breath and rub your temples in exasperation. "What is it with men today thinking it's acceptable to ask me if I'm horny?"
"I'm sorry. That was rude of me to ask," Lennox admits. "Still, must be nice to get asked that question without everyone automatically assuming the answer was yes."
"... What are you talking about?"
"When's the last time you left Fifth Avenue, Miss Weiner? I mean, the wealthy families of New York City essentially walled off several blocks of Fifth Avenue. Private security surrounding the perimeter. Your own supply of filtered spring water coming in from out of town, off the public line. You think the people in Queens have a private line?" He leans in closer to you and asks in a gruff whisper, "How many guys in Queens do you think have boners right now? Hm?... Probably more do than don't, I'd say."
"It's not my fault-"
"I never said it was. You didn't do this to us. The government did. And in the beginning, granted it was hell, but we were all equals. Just millions of people orgasming without control. But when everyone finally figured out what happened, the wealthy made sure to reinstate their status. You made bubbles for yourselves and said everyone outside it can fuck themselves to death."
"Aren't you forgetting you're here too? This speech of yours might be more effective if you weren't standing on Fifth Avenue right next to me."
"I'm a guest. You let us in because we entertain you with our poems and we brew beer for you. And the pay is shit, but we do it anyways because the real pay is staying in the bubble for three days and away from the hell that's outside this place." Now Lennox leans all the way in until his lips are nearly on your ear. "Have you ever seen your whole family cum at the same time before?"
He leans back to view your horror.

---

You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.