Todd and I are at a bar in Westwood. Next to us is a table full of seven Asian bitches playing some kind of card game. Three of them are extremely hot and the rest are definitely worth fucking or at least getting head from.
Todd says, “So what’s the deal now, you’re getting married to Casey?”
“No. I’m not.”
“But you just said her mom is coming back here to start planning the wedding in a few days, dude.”
“Right.”
“So when are you planning on not marrying her?”
“I don’t know.”
“Dude, do you think those Asian sluts would let us play with them?”
“I don’t know.”
“Dude, I’m gonna ask ’em.”
And he does. The hottest one of them all appears to be the only one who speaks English and answers for the whole group when she says, “If you want play with, you and friend can play with.”
Todd and I sit down at their table and listen to the following explanation of a new card game we’ve never heard of. “Okay, we play Be the King. It go like this. We have nine person to play so there will be cards one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, and then king.”
She starts pulling out the ace through eight of clubs and a king.
“Okay, now I deal.”
She gives everybody at the table a card.
“Okay, now you look at card, but no show to us.”
Todd and I look at our cards. I have the three of clubs.
“Okay, now who has king?”
One of the Asian girls sitting next to Todd goes fucking crazy, tosses her king into the middle of the table, and starts screaming, “I king, I king!”
The one who speaks English calms her down, “Okay, okay, okay. Now that she king, she tell us what to do.”
I’m semi-drunk by this point and completely confused until the “king” says something of which I understand the following, “Okay, four—seven—”
The girl who speaks English explains to us that her friend, the king, has told whoever has the four and whoever has the seven to kiss for thirty seconds. And the game has just become infinitely more interesting and corroborates a long-held theory of mine that there are only two kinds of Asian girls—nymphomaniacs and corpses.
We all reveal our cards and it turns out that two of the really hot girls are four and seven. They kiss each other in this innocent giddy way that gives me a hard-on immediately. Todd and I agree to somehow let each other know which cards we pull.
In the next round I pull the king and Todd tips the corner of his card my way to show me he has the five. I say, “Okay, everyone except the king, kiss number five.” Our friend, whose American name we’ve learned is Danni, translates it to her pals. They do a gang kiss on Todd, sometimes kissing each other.
The next round I pull a four and Todd shows me via a less stealthy and progressively drunker upturn of the corner of his card that he’s drawn the eight. One of the semi-attractive Asian girls has drawn the king. She commands one of the girls to take another girl’s head and pretend to smash it into a wall. Then the girl whose head was pretend-smashed into the wall has to scream and pretend her head really was smashed into the wall. Despite the fact that this act is in no way sexual, it is highly entertaining.
The longer we play, the more Todd and I try to turn Be the King into an orgy of Asian bitches to which we’ve somehow become privy, but there’s something about these girls that won’t allow us to succeed. They’re naive and it seems like they’re probably virgins and all of them find just as much excitement in pretending to beat each other up as they do in kissing each other.
The next time I get the king, I decide to see how far I can take it. I know Todd has a three, so I say, “Number four and number five have to suck the king’s dick.”
Danni says, “What is dick?”
I say, “Penis.”
She says, “What is penis?”
I point to my crotch.
She says, “Oh,” and giggles, then translates it for all of her buddies. They all giggle and start looking down at the ground. Four and Five start talking to Danni.
She says, “They say they no want to do that.”
“But I’m the king.”
“If they no want to, they no have to.”
“Then what’s the point of being the king?”
“To have fun and do funny thing.”
“A blow job is a funny thing, Danni.”
They all start talking to each other for about a minute. Todd and I just drink our beers. I look around the bar and notice that a group of people has kind of surrounded our table and has been watching us play this game for a while. Finally the Asian bitches come to a consensus.
Danni says, “We all go now.”
Todd says, “No, you don’t have to go, dude. We can let you be the king and slap each other around or whatever you guys want to do. Don’t go.”
Danni says, “We need to sleep for tests. It nice meeting you.”
With that, Danni and her gang of Asian girls leave the table and the bar, leaving Todd to dispense the following accusation, “You made them leave, you fucker. If you hadn’t scared them off by commanding them to give you a blow job, we could have—”
I say, “What, gotten blow jobs?”
Todd laughs. We discuss the nature of the game and how bizarre the Asian girls were before the conversation returns to Casey.
Todd says, “Seriously, dude, what’s so bad about marrying her? Free house, she has rich parents—all that shit sounds good to me.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Then you should do it. I mean, fuck, dude, free fucking house. She ain’t bad lookin’—that’s pretty sweet.”
“Yeah.” No.
Later that night, after I’ve gone home, I lie awake staring at the ceiling and jerking off to thoughts of fucking the Asian girls we played Be the King with, which somehow reminds me of the first time I fucked my high school girlfriend, Katy. I remember the first time I shot a load down her throat when I shoot a load all over my own hand and the postejaculatory calm washes over me. For the first time in a while, Casey and my life’s ruin is the furthest thing from my mind.
I wipe the semen off my hand and my dick with a towel that was lying on my floor and stay awake for a few more minutes wondering if I should have asked the Asian bitches to have anal sex with me, if somehow that would have offended them less. I also wonder if some of them were willing to suck my dick and Danni or one of the other bitches convinced them to leave. I wish Casey was Asian. I wish I hadn’t thought about Casey.