This choice: Moriarty swaps their clothes and personalities. • Go Back...Chapter #5Moriarty swaps their clothes and personalities. by: Unknown Megan's maid of honor Joanne, a beautiful, curvy redhead, was in a corner booth at the hotel bar with Kyle, Brad's bald, goateed, muscular best man, when they heard a ruckus coming from the bar's entrance. They craned their heads to look and couldn't believe the sight in front of them.
"What up, bitches? I'm gonna get my drink on!" yelled Brad, strutting in on a pair of open-toed stilettos. A black halter dress hugged every contour of his body. His face was impeccably made-up, his finger and toenails matching his dark ruby red lipstick, the silver cross dangling from the choker that was wrapped around his Adam's apple.
"What the hell?" asked Kyle, stunned to see his best friend wiggling his ass and hooting and carrying on like some cheap (or not-so-cheap) slut.
"Look behind him," Joanna gasped.
Behind him was Megan Fox, international sex symbol, whose slinky curves were now concealed inside her tailored blue three-piece suit. She wore no makeup, and her hair was slicked down and back in an approximation of a man's haircut, with the back tucked into her crisp shirt collar. She strode purposely in her black wingtips, pulled a money clip from her back pocket and laid three $100 bills on the bar.
"Next round's on me," she said in a cocky, husky tone of voice. "My baby wants to party before we get hitched, then my baby's gonna party!"
The rest of the crowd cheered at the spectacle, and the promise of free drinks, while Joanne and Kyle ran up to their friends to figure out what was going on.
"Megan?" Joanne asked. "What's the gag?"
Megan leered at her and said, "'Sup, Joanne?"
"Brad, man, what are you doing?" Kyle asked, horrified. His horror increased when Brad threw his arms around him and planted a big wet kiss on his mouth.
"Oh, you look so hot tonight, Kyle!" said Brad, his voice still deep like a man's but twisted into a parody of a Valley Girl accent. "Dance with me while I'm still single!"
"What?" Kyle asked, and before he knew what was happening, Brad had pulled him onto the dance floor (he may have been dressed like a woman, but he had the strength of a man) and was writhing all over him.
Megan pulled a cigar out of her jacket pocket, lit it and nodded from Joanne to the men on the dance floor - Brad ecstatic and gyrating like a stripper, Kyle desperate to get away but unable to escape Brad's grip.
"Look at that ass," Megan said, pleased. "Can you believe I get to tap that exclusively for the rest of my life?"
Joanne grabbed Megan's biceps and held firm. "Megan, what is going on here? Why are you dressed like this? Why are you acting like this?"
"What do you mean, honey?" Megan asked, confused. "This is my lucky suit."
"That's not your suit at all!" Joanne said. "It's Brad's!"
Megan laughed. "Uh-huh," she said. "And next you'll be telling me that the Donatella Versace gown he's going to walk down the aisle in is supposed to be for me."
"It is!" Joanne said. "Seriously, you're freaking me out. What happened to you guys after we split up in the lobby?"
"Nothing," Megan said, puzzled. "We were feeling a little light-headed from the champagne, so we decided to lay down for a bit. We fell asleep in our clothes, and when we woke up, we came down here." She gestured to the dance floor, where Brad was grinding on a dazed and confused Kyle. "Look at that. I figure we're 20 minutes away from Brad inviting every man in this bar to do body shots off of him."
Joanne's mind was racing. None of this made any sense to her. If it had been a joke, Megan would have stopped it by now - and, if she was being honest with herself, Megan wasn't a good enough actress to pull off this masculine vibe she was conveying right now. What on earth could have caused this?
Suddenly, it came to her.
"The champagne!" she said, grabbing Megan by the wrist and pulling her towards the increasingly homoerotic dance floor, where Brad was nuzzling Kyle's neck. She somehow forced herself in between Brad and Kyle and told them they needed to follow her, immediately.
"But I haven't had my appletini yet!" Brad pouted.
The others reluctantly followed her to the front desk at the lobby, where Joanne demanded to speak to the manager. They were led into a private office, where a distinguished-looking middle-aged man greeted them.
"What seems to be the trouble?" he asked pleasantly.
Joanne gestured to her cross-dressed friends. Megan was straightening her tie and Brad was checking his makeup in the compact mirror he had fished out of his clutch purse.
"I would think it was obvious," she said. "These two were normal until they had a bit of your complimentary champagne."
"Oh, I see," the manager said. "My sincerest apologies. This happens from time to time."
"What happens?" asked Kyle. "My best friend turned into a gay cross-dresser! That's not normal!"
"I'm not gay," said Megan, still confused. "And trannies don't shop at Brooks Brothers."
"I was talking about Brad!" screamed the agitated Kyle, whose face was covered in lipstick marks.
"Please, please," said the manager to Kyle and Joanne. "Why don't we leave these two in here for a moment and I can explain?"
They left the manager's office to the site of Brad giving Megan a lapdance, and stepped into a small vestibule. There was a slight hiss from the vent, and before Joanne and Kyle knew what was happening, they had collapsed in a heap onto the floor.
The manager (who had been made immune to the effects of Moriarty's gas) stood over their unconscious forms and clicked an intercom button.
"Tell Dr. Moriarty he has two more subjects that need to be dealt with immediately," he said. "And tell him he'll enjoy the possibilities they present."
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