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A Queen At The Kit Kat Klub

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“At least some of us have a sincere taste fooooor fashionnnn,” Philip fluffed his purple coat as little Helga’s jaw fell. Of course, the poor thing had offered him a drink, was still holding onto the tray as he unblushingly reached across to snap her garter. “Who dresses you girls; couldn’t they at least spring for something fancy?”

To counteract the rude poking and prodding at his dancer, The Master of Ceremonies himself swatted roughly at his fingers until Philip was convinced to recoil. “Ayeee, don’t blame them because some patrons don’t know how to properly tip-puh.” The enunciation on the final syllable was unnecessary, but likely the way he placed palms against the back of Philip’s chair to momentarily rock it off balance and onto only the two back legs was also uncalled for. “The girl asked for your drink order, not your opinion.”

Oh, and once he was shifted, Philip let out a sharp squeal, leaned forward to force himself back to a stable foundation. “I’m sorry you don’t know how a proper cabaret runs, my goooooooood man-” Finally, he twist in his seat, to get a good look at the assailant. Of course, he had been annoyed, but wasn’t thiiiiiiis creature just fascinating? Covered head to (maybe?) toes with ivory powder, obnoxious tattoos and wearing… what the Hell was he wearing? “Perhaps they should put you up there instead,” Philip winked, and coyly rest a hand over the chair between The EmCee’s fists, then his chin atop his own knuckles- which initiated a low growl of a chuckle from the other party. “I’d much rather watch you parade about than these fillies in satin…”

Oh, this turned out at least entertaining- poor Helga ran off while The EmCee bent dramatically at the waist and rocked back on his heels, leaving him depending on Philip’s chair to keep himself up as they managed to make it nearly nose to nose. “Youuuu must be new around here,” without concern of how he’d react, The EmCee reached for him and gave a loose curl a good tug, mostly for experimentation, just to watch it coil back up. Philip only wriggled his brows, not caring enough to give this odd stranger the satisfaction of leaving him bothered. “I like your jacket, though, it’s almost as nice as mine-”

Proudly, Philip primped himself, fluffing his loose hair and shrugging the giant purple fluff-pile higher up his shoulders as the other man shifted to stiffen his spine. “Why thaaaaaaaank you, my dear boy-” He fluttered his lashes, and The EmCee only perked a brow at being called a ‘boy’. “I don’t know whyyyyyyyy you’d hide all this excitement beneath a coat, though,” just as he had done moments ago with Helga, he reached forward to pluck up a suspender strap; gave it a good tug so the elasticized strip would snap obediently back in place against his paled belly. “I’d share mine, but once we both are in, I can’t guarantee wheeeeen I’d let you out.” Since his chair had been released, Philip royally plumped his lips into a coy pout. “But by the looks of you, I’m sure yours would be a faaaaaaascinating cover, won’t you show me sometime?”

The lights began to dim, bringing The smirking EmCee’s attention from his flamboyant new acquaintance and towards the stage- curtain call was about to start, it was time for him to get back stage. “You’ll see,” he promised before taking the opportunity to rock forward, until his pelvis nearly hit the back of the chair, all just so he could run his own palms along the violet fluff… he had to get a feel of that odd jacket before getting away, it would have been a blown opportunity otherwise. “You’ll see quite a bit you’ll enjoy tonight, fremder.” 

And, just as mysteriously as he had come about, The EmCee dismissed himself, leaving Philip just slightly cold after being abandoned so easily. Wishing he had ordered a drink in the first place, he huffed, and crossed arms over his chest while twisting towards the stage. At least the show might be interesting, even if the cabaret girls were so cheaply put together…

Five or so minutes later, the spotlight switched on, and was aimed at an all-too-familiar figure directing the attention his way with a curling, come-hither motion of a finger.


Once The EmCee’s face was illuminated, Philip cocked his head theatrically to the side, and would have sworn that satisfied wink from the stage was shot directly his way…

“That is a nice coat,” he mumbled to himself while situating further into his seat. Maybe this Kit Kat Klub wouldn’t be so boring, after all…