[ WP ] The best male wingman on earth tries to help his friend score with a hot lady . Meanwhile , the best female winggirl on earth tries to make sure her friend ( the hot lady ) goes home alone .

They all met in a bar. It was a nice bar. Not too quiet. Not too loud. Just enough people to feel like you're not a social outcast, but not enough to make it a major target for a possible suicide bombing. 
 
 It was a decent bar. A nice bar. 
 
 It was in this bar that World War III began between a wingman and a winggirl. A war that left no victory, no crushing of puss, and sore, sore blue balls. 
 
 In other words, it all started, on a Friday night. 
 
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 `` Jeez, Alfie. I'm not so sure about this,'' said the younger Tim as he was manhandled past the doorway by his way more handsome companion. 
 
 The sounds of idle chatter was music to Alfie's ears. Idle chatter meant people, and people meant woman, and woman meant that he could finally get Alfie's mopey ass out of the flat for something other than classes for the first time in two weeks. 
 
 `` Dude, let me tell you something. You've turned into a total bitch. One girl dumps your sorry behind, and now you've gained five pounds. Five freaking pounds, Tim. I did n't even know we had that much ice cream in the fridge.'' 
 
 `` I'll eat if I want to, goddammit,'' Tim huffs back, sitting himself down on a stool. His legs are a long way from touching the ground. 
 
 It was times like this that made Tim want to go home and finish the handcrafted root beer float he had prepared. It was an okayish float. The kind with thick, vanilla ice cream atop a fizzy pint of sweet, ice-cold soda. Sugary dreamboat was the best way to describe it, the way its mildly enticing fluids drizzled down the throat, mixing the smoothness of the cream with the kick of the pop. 
 
 Ice cream's good. Ice cream does n't hurt you like a woman breaking up with you for being too short. 
 
 Way too short. From head to toe, Tim measured about 5'2, the size of an average rich kid's teddy bear. 
 
 `` Tim. Tim. Tim. Tim. Tim. Tim. Tim.'' 
 
 `` What?'' 
 
 `` Come on, tell me which one of them catches your eye? The redhead or the Asian one?'' Alfie repeated, almost pinning Tim to the counter-top in a way that could not be described so much as gay, given that he was pretty much straddling the young man's lap, but in a way that gives off a certain feeling of mutual, insured heterosexuality that could not be questioned between the two in anyway. 
 
 So, it was a kind of creepy way of a grown man sitting in a younger man's lap. 
 
 `` The hell are you talking about?'' 
 
 `` Right, I think that's not natural red. Probably dyed. Oh, there's-'' 
 
 `` Alfie, seriously. What the fuck are you talking about?'' 
 
 `` Look!'' Alfie cups Tim's cheeks and turns him over to the pair of girls sitting no more than three seats away. 
 
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 Kris and Lin sat shitfaced at their stools. 
 
 `` Lin,'' said the fake redhead who was mentioned a little while earlier. 
 
 `` Mhmm?'' the tall Lin muttered back, staring into her glass. No matter how much she drank from it, it always seemed to refill itself each time. 
 
 Observe, as the woman downs the entire mug of it. Now, listen as her friend snaps her fingers and back it comes, full as a squirrel's cheeks. It must've been the third time this happened today. 
 
 Kris too, had been drinking, but not really. Had Lin had any knowledge of the art of barkeeping, she'd have known that her friend was actually ordering extremely expensive cola the whole time. The purpose for this? Well, it'd be freaking stupid for the both of them to get absolutely wasted without a designated driver, right? 
 
 True, Lin had forced Kris to promise that she'd join in on her misery. What misery, you may ask? 
 
 Lin is a thirty year old woman whose never, ever had a date, kiss, or even some light-hearted frottage that comes up when you were a half-decent looking college student. Wait? That did n't happen to you, either? Thank god, I'm not alone then. 
 
 Despite all this however, it was Lin that seems the sober-looking responsible friend looking after her red-cheeked employer. 
 
 `` Lin, I think those guys are eyeing you.'' 
 
 Lin's heart skipped a beat as her eyes darted over for a nanosecond and turned right back to her mittened hands. It was difficult finding mittens for her size, like it had been for her shoes and dress. Oh, the agony of finding a dress big enough for a six foot woman and shoes tiny enough to fit a fucking five. 
 
 Up yours, Lin. I wish I was tall. 
 
 `` The short one looks cute,'' Lin admitted, scratching at the silky black roots of hear atop her forehead. 
 
 `` I do n't know about that. His friend over there looks kinda suspicious looking, do n't you think?'' Kris glared daggers over at Alfie, who was too busy staring into Tim's gorgeous eyes to care. 
 
 `` He's good-looking too, I think.'' 
 
 `` I think, just maybe, they might be rapists.'' 
 
 Lin blinked, `` The hell, Kris?'' 
 
 `` Look at them, for fuck's sake. Well-dressed, decent looking, and they're sitting by themselves alone in a corner of the counter? They're either gay, child molesters, or just a bunch of fucking weirdos.'' 
 
 Kris slammed her glass on the tables, turned her fingers to form a V, and shot a nasty gesture over at Alfie, who was getting up right about now to go ahead and take a piss all over the peace of this bar. 
 
 ``... Are n't we doing the same thing?'' 
 
 `` Yes, but one of us looks as hot as hell, and the other one's still a virgin.'' 
 
 `` You promised me you would n't bring that up here!'' Lin hissed. 
 
 `` Why wo n't you ever trust me when I tell you that the guys you like are a bunch of sex fiends?'' 
 
 `` Because, I'm an awkward, giant shut-in thanks to you!'' 
 
 `` An awkward shut-in with giant tits, maybe,'' Kris snickered. 
 
 `` What?'' 
 
 It was at this point, that a scraggly-haired charmer by the name of Alfie had sauntered up to the two women, `` Hi, how are you doing? By any chance, have I met either of you two before?'' 
 
 `` My friend here has aids, for your information. And I'm not interested,'' Kris interrupted before Lin could speak up. 
 
 `` Oh cool, my friend has that too! What support group is she seeing?'' 
 
 `` The one in a state over. You know, not here.'' 
 
 `` Oh, I think I've been there before, they've got nice plastic ferns there.'' 
 
 `` You mean roses? 
 
 `` Oh, did n't you hear, they replaced them a while back. Apparently the thorns were major choking hazards for kids. Who'd have thought? Plastic roses had real thorns.'' 
 
 Tim had already scooted over to Alfie's side using his tiny, tiny legs, and was watching with interest. Lin, taking advantage of the chaos managed to get out of her stool, walk around the wingpeople, and take a seat right next to Alfie's friend. 
 
 It was an inevitable fight. 
 
 The force of a bullshit-spewing womanizer against a seasoned college partygirl was about to begin. Who would come out on top? Who would end up on the bottom? Will Tim and Lin say anything in the course of the second part? Will there be a second part? No. 
 
 The night raged on. Words were exchanged. Glass was shattered. Pepper spray was sprayed. A multitude of other things raged on outside, like a gang fight, a car crash, a failed suicide bombing. 
 
 But alas, the war ended in a stalemate between Alfie and Kris. A long, hard steamy stalemating session was planned and scheduled for the following Saturday to be discussed over some coffee, a moonlit dinner, and lots and lots of condoms. 
 
 Though Tim was unable to take Lin home that night, partly because neither of them could drive correctly and partly because he did n't even want to in the first place, he did manage to get a hold of Lin's cell-phone number. 
 
 And then Lin promptly realized that she had changed her number last week by upgrading her old phone into a model that had a vibrating function. 
 
 Thankfully, it had a vibrating function. 
 
 EDIT: It was Tim, not Alfie in the ending. 
 

