Stylin' and Profilin'

Mason Maniacal calmly sat down at the poker table in his basement, it was he and Queen Bee's turn to host the monthly schmuck poker game. Will O' The Wisp dealt him into the next hand. Hand sucked, not too much he could do with it. He studied the faces of the five other schmucks around the table. Willow looked like she was about to pop from laughter, Quizzler's eyes were watering, Dr. Neutron had his hand over his mouth, Melinda Muse's face wore the same stoic expression it always did, one perfected from years of walking the runway. Queen Bee, Mason's wife, bit her lip, he knew she was trying not to laugh at him.

Mason folded his hand, flinging the cards hard across the table. "I fold. Okay, out with it! All of youse! Get it out of your systems right now.....or else." He shouted menacingly.

Willow broke first. "You look like Axl Rose after a three day bender in Candyland!" She sputtered out. Everyone laughed, except Mason.

Neutron followed up. "No, no, no. He's going through a Justin Timberlake phase. Are your cornrows going to bring sexy back sometime this decade Mason?" More laughter. Mason played with the stack of poker chips in front of him, quietly.

"Wrong again, doc. He's going for a genderbent, heroin chic Pippy Longstockings. Even his face is turning red, matches the hair. Screams mid-life crisis." Melinda Muse mused.

Quizzler could barely contain himself. "Wish I'd known this was a costume party, although nobody is going to beat Mason's Kevin Federline costume. Really nailed the part, you married up just like he did!"

The laughter continued, along with the witty jabs. Mason joined in with the laughter, an overpowering, insane laughter. With the flick of his wrist he sent poker chips flying through the laughing lips of the schmucks, save for Queen Bee. Before they could remove the obstructions from their throats, hidden restraints in their chairs trapped them in place.

Mason rose slowly, flipping a poker chip as he paced around the table. "Pretty fuckin hard to laugh when you're choking to death. This funny to everybody? Being a good dad who's secure enough in his masculinity to allow a little girl to style his hair? These are all rhetorical questions since none of youse can talk at the moment. You had your fun, now I'm having mine. Mallory!"

A young blonde girl peeked her head down into the basement. "Yeah dad?"

"Sweetie my friends said you did such a good job with my hair, they want you to do theirs. Would you mind?" Mason asked kindly.

"Yay! I'll get my stuff!" Mallory Maniacal screeched with glee.

Mason undid the restraints, he and Queen Bee gave the other schmucks the heimlich. Mason returned to his seat nonchalantly. He shuffled the cards. "Let's keep playing. Please be nice to my daughter while she works her magic, the apple didn't fall too far from the tree with her. She don't take constructive criticism as well as I do."

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