Divergent Parody: Avirgent

by Maurice Hill

  “Are you vain?” I asked him.

  He shook his head. “No mam, I hate looking in mirrors. Looking in mirrors is for girls and fairy-boys. My name's Al, and I'm part of Huffle-I mean, the Honest faction.”

  “Oh, that's hot. I love Honest boys.” That was a lie, but hopefully he wouldn't be able to tell so.

  He shook his head and put his hands on the table. “Excuse me mam, but something tells me you're lying. While you are indeed a decent looking girl, you're also a liar.”

  I cocked my head and Christine smirked. “Well, he is from Honest. The guy's gonna be honest as Hell.”

  I slammed my hand on the table. “No, that's a lie. I am a good person. I'm not lying!”

  He nodded. “Nope, you are a liar. I call them like I see them. Much like how I can tell you're a racist ignoramus as well as materialistic. But that's okay, I can look past that because I have a taste for rail thin anorexics.”

  “I'm not anorexic!”

  Christine propped her head on one hand and said dully, “So you don't deny your racism?”

  “Uh-I-damn it, I'm not that either!”

  “But you have preconceived notions of other people. Whatever. I'll quit riding you, and focus on positive stuff.”

  I smiled. “Well finally. Have any of you guys seen America's Next Top Hooker? That's like my favorite series!”

  “Why does that not surprise me?” said Al. “After all, you do have constant dreams where your only goal in life is to trap rich men using your vagina.”

  Christine took her head back in laughter.

  I opened my mouth wide. “How do you know that? I mean, no I don't!”

  “Yes you do. I can tell, I'm honest. Anyway, you look good and I have a stalker-esque

  crush on you. Will you be mine...whoever you are?”

  “No, I won't be yours, and my name is Mika Ock.”

  “Mika Ock?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  He stared at Christine, and she shrugged. “I made no deal about it, you shouldn't either.”

  “Yeah, but if you take away the a and-oh never-mind. Let's just advance the plot since our characterization is paper thin.”

  I nodded. “I'd love that.”

  Christine cocked her head. “What the Hell are you guys talking about?”

  “Remember? It's that regional thing?”

  “That inconsistency thing we all love about the world of YA. Anyway, I have a great friend I'd love for the both of you to meet. She was with us when we jumped off of the roof and jumped out of the helicopter onto this train. She is quite gorgeous, and I would say, my greatest FWB of all time, my little sister, Hailey.”

  Hailey appeared out of thin air next to him. She was a platinum blonde with blue eyes and a perky voice. Her body frame was exactly like mine. She said, “Hello guys. I'm Hailey, and I love to have incest sex with my brother!”

  Christine and I shared a look. My brother was right, I was in for one crazy ride.

  ---

  When we got to the Tricker facility, Christine and I had already found ourselves disturbed by the numerous stories of incest and infidelity by Al and his sister Hailey. It was enough to even make a vain like me want to throw up, but that was nice since I had some left over grapes from last night that needed to find their way out of my system.

  “Look! It's a spider-web!” the Tricker Facility's ceiling was a huge spider-web, or at least looked like one. Hell, I don't know how to describe the facility itself. It's just another one of those half-assed descriptions that I am obviously not mature yet as a writer to describe to you. So yet again, imagine it yourself. Just know that there's several weapons hanging off of walls and a picture of some hot blue eyed brunette British man puffing his lips like a duck. I wondered who he was.

  Then the lights dimmed.

  “Aaaah!” screamed Al. “What's going on?”

  Limp Ussy pointed at Al and said, “Look what you did man, you're such an ugly bastard you made the lights go out! LOL!”

  “What a terrible joke, you should feel bad,” said Christine.

  “MWAHAHAHAHAHA!” shouted some menacing voice from above.

  We screamed and I jumped in Christine's arms. “Sorry,” I said in a meek voice and jumped down. “No problem,” said Christine. “You're so skinny and short it was like holding a brown paper bag.”

  I smiled in the darkness. “Oh! That reminds me, do you have one? I gotta throw up these grapes from last night. It's already causing me to chafe.”

  I could sense her rolling her eyes.

  “Ladies and Gentleman!” said a huge voice booming from some speakers.

  “Get ready to meet the man who is an obvious love interest for the main character, and wish fulfillment for young adolescent girls everywhere...this...is...T.B.4!”

  The announcer announced T. B. and 4, as if they were separate sentences.

  The lights flashed on and off in a pattern of yellow, purple, blue, and red, all pointing to a door in front of us.

  Dance music blared from the speakers above, almost sounding like dub-step. A couple of tone-def voices sung,

  “Who's the baddest man in town? TB4! The one who screws all the bitches around?! TB4! The man who will make you wet your pants?! TB4! And rule the playground and kill you with a giant laaaaannncce! TB4! What's his name?! TB4! Yeah! TB4! Yeah! TB4! TB4! TB4!!!

  OOOOOOhhhh...he's just a man, a badass man. He makes women pregnant just by looking at them! He's so sexy, just hear his voice!

  'Why hello there, my name's Tiberius Balor Four...and I'm British!'

  You'll know right then that when it comes to matin' there's no other choice!

  So come on girls, just take an easy chance...go on ahead and take off your pants!

  It's the feeling you can't deny, oh...it's time to say HIIIIII!”

  The music and the lights went out. The place was like a dark abyss again.

  The voice boomed on the speakers once more. “Ladies and gentleman...this is T.B.4!

  An instrumental version of his music hit the speakers, and a spotlight dropped on the door in front of him. The doors burst open along with a wave of confetti. It was like a party.

  A muscular man with a huge “V” back came stepping out as dry ice and smoke filled the area. He walked backwards slowly, and turned around revealing his huge biceps, pecs, and 12 pack. He wore blue jeans and a sly smile on his face. He was the same guy in the photos above.

  I almost collapsed in awe, and fanned my face as the lights went back on again, and the instrumental dance music continued to play.

  “Oh God, don't you feel that Christine?”

  “What? The plastic surgery for those 12 pack abs or his obvious debauchery and decadence?”

  “I don't know what those two words mean, but they must be good! You're so smart Christine!” I hugged her tight, and she groaned. I let go when TB4 snapped his fingers, and the music cut off with it.

  He held his hands up, making himself look like a giant muscular “Y.”

  “My name...is T.B.4! The ultimate instructor in Tricker history, and also the greatest ladies man of all time. Did you know that I once parallel parked a train? That I spent one week on Mount Everest with my two girlfriends in negative 100 degree whether and the only thing to keep them warm was my twenty inch-”

  “Did you know that you sound like a douche?” Christine shot at him.

  TB4's face was in shock and horror, yet even a mix of awe. He put his arms down.

  “Who are thou Inter-racial looking black woman who dare question thee T.B.4!?”

  “I thou are Christine Black, and I think you're a douche prick. I mean,” she pointed at him. “You don't even have the decency to wear a shirt? Look at Limp Ussy over here...” She pointed at Limp Ussy, wearing his tight muscle shirt.

  “Yeah, his shirt's a little too tight, but at least he's wearing something.”

  Limp snorted and rubbed his nose. “Sir, I'm terribly sorry for her insolence toward you. If you would like, c
an I knock her out? She is very annoying.”

  TB4 smiled. “Why yes, you may kick her ass. All women must be taught a lesson every

  now and then. In fact, it was just last year I was arrested for spousal abuse, but I swear she was holding a knife to my head! Bitch needed to be taught a lesson! She tried to kill me, so...” He punched the air with his fist. “Straight to the moon Alice!”

  We stood there, with no clue as to what his joke was.

  “Seriously? It was a Honeymooner's reference guys! Come on, get with it and catch the marathon every New Year's.”

  He pumped his pecs with a laugh. I didn't know what the Hell he was talking about, but since he was good looking, he made me know that whatever it was, must be good.

  He put his arms at his waist.

  “Anyway my new...” He counted us.

  “Um...I only count you the black girl. That skinny blonde girl with the silly shoes...”

  “Hey! These cost $1,000!” I yelled.

  “Heh, then they ripped you off well as far as I'm concerned. I've been thinking about getting into the Fashion industry myself. There's so many young women out there who will pay a vast amount of money just for the logo of an Eagle and a large H! You know, the Hollowster. Hollow clothing, for a Hollow world.”

  My face flushed red. “Well...”

  “Oh never-mind that. Then there's also the roided up blonde guy like me. What's up?”

  Johnson spat on the floor. “My dick in your Mom's mouth motherfucker.”

  “Oh, well you're going to be quite the spit-fire huh? Soon, you shall rue the day you ever said that. Which is today.”

  Limp Ussy snorted. “Hey bro, I was just trying to see how you'd take it. Like a man or a bitch.”

  “How did I do?” said TB4 in a joking manner.

  Limp shrugged. “Better than most people. You're cool. You're good bro. I got nothing but respect for you.”

  TB4 chuckled. “I have no respect for you whatsoever. Let's change that shall we? There's also your three friends and that...handsome brunette guy and his sister.

  “We're also a couple,” said Hailey, raising Al's hand.

  Al said, “Yeah, about that...listen, I have to start pursuing Mika soon. So, let's go off and have one more tryst, cool?”

  “Cool! I love you brother!” She hugged Al tight, and groped in between his legs. He pushed her away and laughed lightly.

  TB4 raised his brow. “Uuuh. Well, that's weird, and creepy.”

  I agreed, and so did everyone else.

  “Anyway, I hope to make wonderful Trickers out of all of you. Trickers are the ultimate badass of badass. They are the men and women this screwed up idiotic society of Dystopian Chicago depends on. We protect our realm from all evil outsiders. The illegal immigrants who don't deserve to be here. For we are real Americans...well, I'm a real Brit here on a Visa, but let's pretend I'm a real American. A real Chicagoan since the rest of America is sectioned off by a fence for some weird reason.”

  “Is it because of poison gas?” said Al.

  “Why, no. For the gas would have flown airborne and killed us all.”

  “Zombies?” said Limp Ussy's short friend Max. He had shaggy hair and a rough, gruff voice like some smoker in his 90s.

  “No, not anything exciting like that either. Listen, I don't know the real reason, but don't get your hopes up. I'm pretty sure it's something very lame that doesn't need to be contained, but we just do so for precautions. I'll take you guys to the fence later.”

  He shrugged. “Well okay,there's Mika, Christine, Al, Haily, Limp Ussy, Max, Steven, and Lisa. That's eight of you...wow, so little. How come? I was told there was to be at least one hundred.” He had the cutest innocent baby look in his eyes,and his thin cherry red lips were open, and shiny with his saliva. It was so hot.

  Christine nudged me. Uh-oh, I must have been touching myself again.

  Al said, “Well, most of them either landed off the mark when jumping off the plane or...just bit the dust.”

  TB4 cocked his head. “Wait, what the Hell? They made you guys jump out of a plane?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, and we also jumped off of a roof.”

  “Well yeah, that's normal...as long as we use the cushion. But...a freaking plane?”

  “We had to land on a train too...the first few couldn't use parachutes.”

  “What? A-buggery. Just straight unadulterated buggery and tomfoolery. I mean, God...Fuck. Why, that makes no sense.”

  “Oh, you didn't know?! But I thought it was the Tricker way bro!” said Christine, pumping her fists, rolling her eyes.

  “Yes, but there's a difference between bravery...and idiocy.”

  He snapped his fingers and cracked his knuckles. “Oh well, guess we'll just have to make do then. But it does seem weird there's only so few of you. I swear, it's as if this were a YA novel, and the author only made this so because they can't handle more than eight characters. Oh joy.”

  “Well, how about I acquaint all of you to your rooms and soon get started on the first lesson of the day: Combat. Oh yes, and any women whom wish to join me in my bed are welcome. Just throwing it out there!”

  I took a step forward, but Christine pushed me back by the wrist, and shook her head disapprovingly and whispered in my ear, “Uh, uh girl. The only thing he's packing is the clap. Do yourself a favor, and avoid him.”

  “I'll try,” I said. But I couldn't deny what my heart wanted. He was there, and he wanted it...whatever and whoever. I was available.

  TB4 laughed. “Fine. Hopefully next time there won't be a sassy intelligent black girl looking out for the best interests of her white friend.”

  He clapped his hands. “Alright, as for you other girls, I'll chalk it down to inexperience. Anyway, let's get a move on to your rooms, which are co-ed and complete with state of the art camera equipment.”

  “Why do you have cameras?” asked Christine.

  TB4 smirked. “Why, just in case someone goes missing in the night.”

  “Bullshit,” said Christine, her voice lower.

  He put his hands up in surrender, or disapproval.

  “Hey, listen, I know I seem like too sensual of a man, but I don't have cameras there to get off on the chance there might be an orgy.”

  Christine laughed, and it sounded hollow. “You think it's that black and white? No. I don't think that.”

  She stepped up to his face and stared him down, as if she were a man herself.

  “If you ask me, someone besides you is watching, and not for our protection...for theirs. From sources I have of all of my friends, none of the factions put cameras in the room. None. Not even you guys. So I'll ask you again, Tiberius...why are there cameras?”

  He laughed and patted Christine on the elbow. She slapped his hand away, making him chuckle hard. “Well Christine, you're quite the instigator aren't you?”

  “No. Just out for the truth boss.”

  “Well...” He crossed his arms. “Believe me or not, but let's just say that if there were another truth to the truth already there, well...you wouldn't be able to know said truth. If I told you, they'd kill me, and then you and everyone else here.”

  CHAPTER 4: “LIKE A LION AND A WOLF”

  T.B.4 was so courteous and kind, he carried Christine and I's bags.

  “He's just doing it to save face,” whispered Christine as all of us went through a sliding door and into our dormitory. Whatever that word meant. I guess it meant room? Yeah, I believe so.

  “Now who's the one jaded Christine? You're ever so the negative nancy.”

  She grunted. “More like the realistic one. You're so blinded by his looks, you're thinking of nothing but what's down there instead of up here.” She pointed up at her head with her fingers, and imitated shooting herself. “Might as well get your life over with now, because if you keep thinking like that, a piece of ass is all you'll ever be.”

  I paused angrily, leering at her, as everyone filed in and Christine and I stood at the do
or as still as statues.

  She shook her head. “I didn't mean it literally. Just...damn it, watch out for yourself.”

  “Welcome to paradise!” shouted TB4, dropping our bags on the floor.

  Our dormitory was filled with ten bunk beds on the left of the room. Although, we weren't going to need ten. There was no TV but there were five separate bathrooms on the right side of the room, with our beds on the left. Oh yeah, and there was no TV, there was no TV, there was-

  “Where the Hell is the TV?!” I shouted, making a fit like a little baby.

  TB4 smiled. “Why, what the Hell would you want with that Idiot Box? Waste time watching America's Next top Hooker? Drag-Queen? Who Wants to be the Next Mob Boss? Oh, wait, wait, wait...I know what you love. America's Worst Dresser? You know, you can be quite the contender on the show. They pay up to $75,000 for fifth place, but something tells me you're a Gold standard eh? First place for worst dresser it is.”

  He turned around and pointed at the bunks as Limp Ussy and his group laughed at me. Al and his sister looked down at me in pity, and Christine held her nose up high, nodding as if I somehow deserved it.

  I nodded, shaking. “You know what? I'll be the better girl, suck up my pride, and swallow it.”

  Christine nudged me. “Girl, you know what you just said?”

  Limp Ussy pointed at me. “LOL! Something tells me that's not the first thing you sucked and swallowed! Right guys?!”

  His crew laughed at us.

  TB4 whistled. “Hey, hey. I was just teasing the girl here. Want me to make fun of your silly name Limp?”

  Limp shook his head and quieted down. “No sir. Carry on.”

  “Good! Remember, no one bullies or teases anyone here but me. If I hear word that any of you, and I mean ANY of you have bullied or teased someone in a very inappropriate manner...then you shall face the penalty of death!” He raised his fist in the air and somehow lighting struck behind him. I don't know how it occurred but it did. I guess he was some lightning God and could control it. That was Hot.