paradoxlol | .010

[Say hello to... Arthur, only he's going by the name of Dick Johnson. It's his PROFESSIONAL ALIAS. Anyway, he's wearing a tacky-but-trying-to-be-sexy polyester suit and satin shirt combo. With the top three buttons glamorously unbuttoned. He's leaning against the bar, smirking at the camera, holding a girly-looking fruity drink in one hand. Somehow, he tries to make his sips of it look manly.]

I see there's no shortage of... beautiful ladies on this boat. I'd hate to think of any of you spending your nights here... alone. A place like this... [SULTRY LOOK and he arches an eyebrow. Knowingly.] It's not safe. So, ladies, should you find yourselves in need of an escort [Said VERY meaningfully. YOU KNOW WHAT HE'S TALKING ABOUT.] Don't hesitate to call. I'm very flexible and the only payment I need... is to put a smile on your face [COUGH COUGH MUTTER, he covers his mouth with his hand and turns away slightly, so that there's no video evidence of him saying this... well, you know, aside from the audio track.] For $75 an hour. [Arthur's a cheap hussy. He straightens up, resuming his sultry, flirty look, and leans closer to the camera.]

Remember, all you fine, sexy ladies out there, we're on... [He looks around, as though double checking, and then gives a terribly sleazy look to the camera that he thinks is way sexy.] International waters. Anything goes.

[He tries to end this with a cool, casual sip of his drink, but unfortunately his elbow knocks the communicator from whatever he precariously balanced it on, and it topples over, giving you an awesome, canted view of HIS SHOES.] Oh shit--!

[And there's some rustling, some movement, as Arthur scrambles to pick up the communicator. His drink spills a little, on his pants and on the communicator, and he lifts the device up so that you're looking at his face again. Attempting to regain his cool, he grins, but it's a bit forced, and shuts the camera off.]

[OOC: AND IF ANYBODY WANTS TO ENCOUNTER GIGOLO ARTHUR, just spam in here. Multiple threads, WHATEV.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Still text, but if it weren't Arthur would see the nervy and embarrassed expression of someone who doesn't want to be seen (or caught) doing this.]

Where are your services located?

[He holds his arms out in a grand gesture.] My current operations are located at this hot and happenin' bar. [It is so not happenin'.] But luckily for you, stranger, I can take the complete [Spoken like a television announcer:] 'Boyfriend Experience' to any location of my clients' choosing. My services are completely portable, because that's just the kind of guy I am: I work to make you happy. For a fee. [GRIN.]

I'd rather meet someplace a bit quieter. [Read: private]

Don't worry, my anonymous friend. I can be very discreet. [He leans forward and speaks conversationally, breaking "character."] I mean, you have no idea who takes me up on this stuff. I'm talking... news anchors, restaurant franchise owners, politicians-- ladies, too, you know it's so often people forget about women in powerful positions? I mean, they've got needs. They just-- [He clears his throat and gets back in character, holding up a reassuring hand.] I mean. Very discreet.

[Pause, then he reaches out to pick up the communicator, fiddling around with it while trying to figure out how to turn the private filter on.]

Let's see, I... press that... almost...

Good. Discreet is good. You see, I'm with the federal government. [He hopes this makes him sound more powerful and sexy, like he's a senator's chief of staff, or a diplomat with the State Department. And not a puny tax accountant.]

[And Arthur's head shoots up attentively as he reads that, a lightbulb visibly going off in his head. He furrows his brow for a moment, deep in thought. Somebody with the federal government? Power... And money! He's just hit a goldmine! He grins-- then stops and looks down at the camera suspiciously. He pushes one last button-- THE GLORIOUS PRIVATE FILTER GOES UP.]

Hey, wait, this isn't one of those "stings," is it? Because you have to tell me if it is!

...

Right?

[He now finally notices that the communication network *has* a private setting. He uses it.]

Oh, no no. I'm not FBI or anything like that. Just standard civil service.

[He belatedly (and hurriedly) takes off his dweeb glasses, because shit! Video! (Insecure accountant nerd is insecure.)]

Well, well, well... [Arthur's still convinced that this man must have a completely glamorous job and tons of cash, so he's going to ramp up his sleazy charm.] How... distinguished. There's nothing more appealing than a man who serves his patriotic duty to our country. [He raises one eyebrow.] And I have some services of my own that can be all yours...

For $75 an hour! Prices negotiable on a sliding scale, specifics pending.

[He gets that embarrassed, doesn't-want-to-be-seen look again when prices come up. He mutters into the communicator as if by talking quietly he can pretend that he's not actually hiring a prostitute.]

I--I'll start with...um...one hour and...ah...go from there. If that's okay?

[He gestures grandly.] What the customer wants, the customer gets! One hour it is! Then we'll see where the night takes us. And it is my guarantee that you will leave satisfied. Just name the time and the place.

I think my bunk on this ~~very strange~~ cruise is 5 16. Sometime tonight? Um...ten o'clock?

Ten o'clock it is, my good sir. And may I say, you look like a man who enjoys a good cuddle. I'll throw that in for free. That's right, [He grins.] on the house!

Oh, [he blushes] that's very kind of you Mr. Johnson.

.010 | Video.

[TEXT] He's going to want to use the mind wipe on his own memories by the time the weekend's over

[VIDEO] Arthur may want in on some mind wiping action

[TEXT] People can get in line.

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