Mads: The Footballer

The Footballer was in town, and boy was I stoked. He had to scout an OU soccer player for the team he used to play for in Europe. The Footballer is a man of Dutch descent, and I actually needed him to get chicks in this part of the country. Usually my money and Norwegianess did the trick, but the money could only get me so far, and the average person around here doesn't believe me when I say I'm Norwegian, because I have almost no accent (it comes from speaking the English language from the time I was a very small boy). Anyway, the Footballer was here, and it was time to get some chicks. We were getting ready to leave, when Pageant Girl stopped me.

"Where are you two going?"

"Out to score some broads," I said. "You want to come?"

"What? Mads, you are cheating on me. I just knew it. You... you..."

"What are you talking about? I'm not cheating."

"I thought something was strange when you brought that girl home that time, but I figured she was a cousin, and you just slept with one another because that's what Europeans do. And when you did it more than once, I just figured it was a common thing."

"What the hell are you talking about? Pageant Girl, you're so silly sometimes. C'mon, put on your regular uniform of jeans and a halter top, throw on a shitload of make-up like you always do, and let's go get some butt with the Footballer."

That Pageant Girl, what are we gonna do with her?

"I know what I'd do," the Footballer said.

"Then do it," I said.

"Really?"

"Hey Pageant Girl," I said when she got back from changing. "There's another little mainstay of European culture I forgot to tell you about."