"The awesome me loves you."
Gilbert has whispered those words into a girl's ear a million times, each time it was a different girl. Each unlucky, drunken woman felt his alcohol scented breath hot on her skin, heard his mischevious, slurred laughs.
The girl that he was lying to tonight giggled drunkenly, slurring her own words, "Oh, Filbert, why are you so smooth and charming?"
For some unknown reason, now his name was Filbert, but he ignored it chuckled softly, running several kisses down the girl's neck, revelling in the sounds of her loud, over-exagerrated and obviously fake moans. "It's because I'm awesome." He answered simply, capturing her lips with his own.
You rolled your eyes at hearing the girl moan, "Oh, Filbert" for the 7th time. Her name was Haley, but Gil called her Hanna, just like he called the other girl last night Nicki, when her name was really Natasha.
You resisted the urge to bang your head against the wall and scream out your annoyance, and instead smoothed out the fluffy pink robe that went down to your ankles, straightening a few curling rollers placed in your hair, looking like the perfect nagging wife. This would terrify Gilbert, as it always does.
As Haley moaned loudly once again, you flung the door to Gilbert's basement open, stomping your way down the wooden stairs as loud as you possibly could in pink bunny slippers.
Haley/ Hannah pushed Gil off of her half-naked body, yelping loudly and struggling to pull up her extremely tight skinny jeans that bunched around her ankles. Gil leaned back onto the bed, wearing no pants at all, bearing his 'pride and joy' with no shame. "(Name), really? The awesome me was just about to get to the good part!"
"Filbert, who is she?" Haley pointed a bright red, manicured nail at you, eyeing your slippers, pink robe and curlers with obvious distaste. You only wondered who Filbert was
"His wife," you held out your left hand, a fake ring you got from a claw machine on your ring finger, "we've been married for 3 years, and you're not the only slut he's said he loves before."
"Hey," Gil protested, crossing his arms, "I really meant it!" He didn't, but it'd just be best to say that he did in front of Hannah, or Haley, whatever her name was.
"Gilly, honey," you plastered a pitying look on your face, "if you have to pay them, then you don't love them."
Haley gasped dramatically, turning towards Gil with an expectant look, like if she wanted him to jump up and defend her 'honor', "Are you just going to let her talk to me this way?"
You snorted sarcastically, "How long has he known you? Seriously, darling, use that tiny brain of your's."
Gil pursed his lips, creating the illusion of him thinking, when really, his head is as empty as the movie theater was for Paranormal Activity 2, "Um..." he said, real intelligent-like, "yes, actually. I'd like an awesome cat-fight to come of this."
You rolled your eyes at his perverted statement, "Shut the hell up, Gil," frowning at Haley, you put your hands on your hips in a 'nagging wife' manner, "you should leave now, oh and get checked for herpes, you can never be too careful around guys that bring home prostitutes as much as Gil does."
Haley gasped, obviously having enough with the weirdness. She stood up from the bed and huffed her way out of the room, stomping up the stairs, walking slightly odd, as if she had to scratch herself, but couldn't. It was clearly a sign that she had a disease, and was attempting earlier to make your job just a little bit harder by transferring it to Gilbert.
Gil looked at you and exhaled deeply, "Why do you insist on always interupting my awesome one-night stands?"
You laughed lightly at his expense, slipping the robe from your body, revealing baggy jeans and a large t-shirt that didn't show off your boobs or curves at all, "I'm trying to keep you from getting STDs or any other crappy shit," you pulled a roller from your hair, a now curly lock of (color) hair bounced free, shining in the dim lights, "she had something, I could see it in the way she walked."
"The awesome 5 meters are fine," he protested, gesturing to his bare naked vital regions, "just take a look!"
You kept your eyes level with his, pulling another roller from your hair, "Pull up your pants, Gil. I don't want to see your penis."
He grumbled something in German, struggling to pull up his boxers that were around his ankles up over his junk, tossing his discarded pants on the floor lazily, and rolling on his side, sulking into his pillow, knowing you'd never give up and just leave him alone for once.
You rolled your eyes and picked up the pants, bunching them up and tossing them into a nearby hamper. You held a few rollers in one hand as you fished your phone from your pocket, clicking it on with just once touch of a button. "Gil, we have to talk about your schedule for tomorrow." You egged, sitting at the end of the bed, working the touch screen on the phone with your thumb.
He glanced at you over his shoulder, "The awesome me doesn't care."
You sighed in annoyance, "Look, Ludwig hired me to take care of you, and that's what I'm going to do."
Gilbert turned back over, not facing you, "Yes, mommy." He mumbled, a frown etched onto his face.
"Good, now shut up and listen," you touched a calender icon on the screen, a schedule popping up, and in big bold letters it said, 'Vegas, America, 4:00 p.m.' "we have to meet Alfred in Vegas tomorrow at 4:00 for your man-date."
"It's not a man-date! Someone so awesome as I would never go on a man-date," Gil corrected, "it sounds like something that un-awesome boob Rodrich would say."
"Fine, whatever," you rolled your eyes, "call it what you want. I have the plane tickets already bought," you stood, slipping the phone into your pocket, "I'll wake you up at 6:00 a.m. tomorrow morning."
The albino man groaned, flipping onto his back to face you, "That early?"
You nodded, "Be ready, or else."
"Or else what? You'll give me a spanking?"
"Or else I'll fuck you with a rake."
He smiled pervertidly, "Is that a promise?"