Viva Las VegasOn March 21, 2021 by L. A. Jacob
Seagn found herself knocking on the back of a truck that Moose was staying in. The Sidewinders had not stopped, and were in the process of singing “Viva Las Vegas” for the seventh time.
Moose opened the door. “They’re your friends.”
“They’re not my friends.”
“You brought them here.”
“They came here on their own! Stop blaming me!”
“Webby’s going to blame you if they break out and cause any shit to the rides.”
“What do I do? Call the police?”
Moose sighed. “Tell them, nicely, that you want them gone.”
“But they’re all drunk. They’re in no condition to drive!”
“Then tell them, nicely, to keep it down. Some people are trying to sleep.”
“Viva! Viva! Las Vegas!”
“You’re no help.”
“I’m not going to put my head in the lion’s den of a bunch of drunken bikers. They may be women, but you don’t fuck with drunken bikers.” Moose looked around. “Come inside here. You can stay with me.”
He kissed her. She was surprised, but not angry. He deepened the kiss slowly, gently like he did beside the water.
Seagn blushed. “Maybe a little.”