2011 06 14: Booty and The Geek

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Mission Name: Booty and The Geek
Date of Mission: June 14, 2011
Locale: Starbucks

Mimi and Foster settle down to enjoy each other's company when interrupted by Lip. Mimi proves she must have played a lot of Mike Tyson's Punch Out as a child.


Foster Lip Mimi

After their date, Mimi has been mostly unavailable. To everyone. Her will to luncheon at the Waldorf has been broken and she hasn't even been doing any comfort shopping. She's decided to meet Foster at Starbucks for some delicious, fattening, sugar-filled, over-priced coffee. She's already gotten an iced mocha something or other and sits at a table near the center of the room so that she'll be able to spot when Foster comes in. On the table in front of her is a book about the Queen of Mean, Leona Helmsley.

Silence after their date. Foster does not have a lot of experience, but he figures that can't possibly be good. He's tried hard not to be clingy, but lord knows that wasn't easy. As the invitation comes to meet her at Starbucks, Foster rushed off to do just that. Unfortunately, with his luck, he's spent the last 15 minutes stuck in a subway delay. A bit breathless and very flustered, he finally comes charging in the door, nearly taking out a departing patron in the process. Apologies are quickly uttered and after a few false starts, where he tries to go the same way around as the other patron, they finally get themselves sorted and he comes scurrying over to Mimi's table, effecting a somewhat nonchalant air only after he's come to a stop. Effective, Foster. "Uh. Hey."

Mimi thankfully doesn't notice her friend bluster in. She's too engrossed in reading about Leona Helmsley's tax evasion problems. The blonde smiles when Foster reaches the table and puts her book down, taking a sip of her coffee. "Did you want coffee? I mean, it's cool if you don't." Chances are, she probably didn't actually invite him coffee — hot or not. "Sit if you want. I'd ask what you've been up to, but something tells me that it involves your bugs and surfing the Internet." Was that a veiled reference to porn? Maybe, maybe not. Hard to tell with Meems sometimes.

"Uh, sure, coffee is… I like coffee. Sometimes. I don't drink it a lot, but it's… good," Foster replies, trailing off weakly at the end as he catches himself and makes an effort to stop talking in endless circles. But then she invites him to sit, which leaves him torn between going up to the counter to order or sitting. After looking back and forth a few times, he ends up choosing the latter, dropping into the chair across from her. He doesn't really need the caffeine right now. His eyebrows go up a little at the possibly veiled reference, but he's unsure what to make of it. "I, uh. I haven't really been up to much," he confirms. "I, um. You've seemed sort of … busy though. Is, uh, everything okay?"

Mimi seems almost… affronted when Foster mentions that it seems like she's been busy. She makes an astounding face of distaste that contorts her pretty features into something a little less than pretty. "Foster, we had a date on Saturday. It's only Tuesday. If I had never called back, I can't imagine what you would have thought then. I've just been thinking, that's all. Nothing major. And yeah, I'm capable of an actual thought process." She ends up grinning, however. "Sooo… anything interesting happening with your bugs or whatever?" Mimi asks Foster, seeming unsure of exactly how to make conversation at this point either. The two sit at a table near the center of the coffee chain, Mimi with a book and some iced mochawhat, Foster with nothing.

"I- Well. Yeah. I just… I thought I would have heard from you, but, uh, it's no big deal. I just- I mean, I didn't mean anything by it, just that… you know, I assumed you were busy," Foster begins over-explaining, all hope of curbing that impulse gone for the moment. "And I never thought you didn't think. It's, uh… good thoughts, I hope, but not that I'd presume to know or anything. Or even assume they're about me, because, uh, you must have lots of better things to think about." Stop. Talking. Now Foster wishes he had chosen a coffee just so he could shut himself up with it. "My bugs? You… told me not to talk about them," he points out warily, like this could be some sort of test. "They're, uh… They're good. I've got a new batch at the larval stage that I'm studying at work right now."

"You know what they teach you in the FBI? When you assume, you make an ASS out of YOU and ME both." Mimi simply informs, perhaps a touch louder than she'd intended. She blinks then for a minute. "Why do I know that…?" She asks no one in particular, furrowing her brows. Her brows furrow as she tries to remember where she heard that, but also tries to ignore the strange feeling in her brain of deja vu. She shakes her head and purses her lips at Foster. "It's okay to talk about the bugs when I ask about them." Her facial features distinctly seem to say that she thinks his bugs are incredibly gnarly. When he says the word 'larval', a chill wracks her body. "I guess that's good, right? Oh hey, I just thought of something! Do you have a butterfly collection?!" She asks excitedly. Butterflies are pretty. Harmless. Not like bees, spiders, wasps, and whatever nasty other things Foster likes.

Foster seems equally confused by her loud statement about the problems of assumption. "…FBI?" he echoes, wondering just what he missed there. "Well, uh. I don't know." Her question may have been rhetorical, but he answers it anyway. "I … didn't mean to make an ass out of, uh, anyone though." He continues to watch her with a mix of confusion and concern, but then she moves on and it's back to bugs, which are a far less confusing topic, especially now that she's clarified the rules. "Uh, yeah. It's good," he confirms with a nod, promptly distracted by talk of butterflies. "I … have some specimens," he offers in a conciliatory fashion. Which is basically nerd-talk for 'butterfly collection', yeah. "They aren't really my, uh, specialty, but… they have a bunch at the, um, the museum too."

WHAM!

That's the sound of the Starbucks door being slammed open. Whether it was pulled or pushed, it doesn't really matter. Not when there's someone as stylish and loud and obnoxious as LIP standing in the doorway after making such a threatening entrance. It is, after all, what he does.

"YOU!" Lip extends a finger at whatever brat is behind the counter and then he holds up his Starbucks cup. "Boyo, you done did it again! How many times a week do you see me?! Huh?!"

Boyo stutters. "I-I-I…"

"Shut up!" Lip is over at the counter at this point, having pushed past whatever and whomever may be standing in line because he's Lip and that's what he does. "I order the same delicious combination of coffee and uchino goodness every single damn day! EVERY DAY! And you… you make it for me, don't you?"

Boyo stutters again, "I-I-I…"

"YES! The answer is yes, Boyo! Come on, pay attention!" Lip snaps his fingers and sets his cup down on the the counter, yanking off the lid and he flings it at Boyo. Coffee slings off it as it smacks into the kid's face. Splattui. "What's missin'? Huh? Look at it!"

Boyo's face drips slightly as he peers down into the cup. Stutters again, "I-I-I…"

"Come on, man. Don't make me come across the counter and Rock Bottom your ass." Lip sighs. "Can a brotha' get his Splenda? Please?"
You aren't carrying anything.

Mimi shakes her head and waves a hand dismissively at the weird statement she's made. What's next, a rendition of 'This is my rifle, this is my gun?' "So what is your specialty?" Mimi asks, though she's sure it's something totally like, ew, gross. The blonde flips her hair over her shoulder and glances around the Starbucks before returning her attention to Foster, who has had it mostly individually since he got her. If nothing else, Mimi is certainly focused. "I don't think I'm interested in seeing bugs other than butterflies, to be honest with you." When the door to Starbucks flies open, Mimi jumps a few feet out of her seat like a cat who just touched water. She puts a hand to her hammering heart and watches the other man enter before recognition sets in. "Oh my God. It's him." Mimi watches the entire interaction with wide eyes before she looks over at Foster. "Okay, no matter what happens next, your name isn't Foster. I'm going to call you Fozzy." As if Lip surely will not catch onto that.

Mimi stands and marches over to Lip, tapping him on the shoulder gently. "Excuse me, I see you're causing another unwanted public scene. You should leave that young man alone. He's clearly got a speech impediment and maybe they don't have Splenda or something back there. I mean, if you're getting this high fructose corn crap in the coffee, why bother with the Splenda?" Mimi asks. The staff just stare at her. How many times have they been bitched at for something even more miniscule than that?

"Oh, uh. Well, I do a lot in morphology? But just that… I mean, butterflies aren't a particular focus. But it's okay that you like them more than, uh, the others. I don't really … expect other people to get it. Sometimes I think I like that, uh, that they don't," Foster admits, although something in his tone suggests this is maybe not one of those times. He could keep going, but then Lip comes banging into the shop causing a ruckus and leaving the poor nerd just staring, wide-eyed. Mimi's worry about his name only confuses and further concerns poor Fozzy. "I, uh." He doesn't exactly disagree, but he has no chance, since he's just left to watch as the two drama queens have their diva-off.

"… Oh hell no. Please tell me you ain't stalkin' me." Lip has forgotten all about Boyo and the Splenda in favor of a new target. One that's female. And that actually looks alright. Which is a much better thing to argue with than, well, nerds. "Actually…" Lip's decided to switch up his approach with this particular loud female, because he's turned all the way back to the counter and is leaning back on it, crossing his arms over his chest whilst he gives the blondie a blatant once over of bodily inspection. "… I don't think I'd mind that. Should I just give you my address now or you wanna' go through the whole finders keeper's thing?" Lip flashes a big ol' happy smile. What.

It's herein that Mimi struggles with terrible decisions. She's quiet for a long moment, just raising her brow at Lip before she puts her hands on her hips. "I'm not stalking you. I have better things to do with my time." She seems at a loss for what to do. That's a new and interesting feeling for Mimi. "Finder's keepers? What are you even talking about? And anyway, I'm here with someone. You're not my type. Sure, you're cute, but I mean…" Clearly Mimi has to be the one sucking the air out of the room or else she's not happy. She gives a fleeting glance over to Foster and suddenly blushes terribly before looking back to Lip. "But anyway, I… would you quit boning me with your eyes?" Mimi asks him. "God, why is it that men never feel all gross when women do it to them?"

Foster would really love to rush to the aid of the damsel in distress, but … she's hardly in distress and for once, he's been rendered silent. This is clearly way too far outside the usual experience of his quiet life. "I, uh," is about all he manages, and only when Mimi specifically looks at him, making him think maybe it's his turn to speak. Apparently it isn't, which is just as well, since nothing good could come of that.

Lip raises an eyebrow even as he literally talks to Mimi's chest. Because, well, that's kinda' what he's focused on right now. He'll pay attention to the rest of her when that time comes. Besides, this is going to be that much more fun than actually having a real conversation with someone as insane and annoying as Mimi. "Sorry. My bad. I'm still tryin' to figure out how you think anybody's gonna' believe those are yours." Lip shakes his head, smiling to himself as he sneaks in another dig about this girl's body. And then, well, he's smiling even more. "Oh? So the Boyfriend brought you to Starbucks, huh?" Lip follows Mimi's line of sight over to where Foster's Home for Imaginary Nerds is seated and then he's cracking up, shoving off the counter and stumble-laughing in that direction. "Hahahaha! Oh snap! Check it out, everybody! We got two very famous people in the house today!" Lip points two fingers at Mimi. "We got Booty, ladies and gentlemen!" And then he's pointing off in Foster's direction. "… and the Geek, everybody! Hahaha!" Oh Lip. Booty & The Geek. Wow.

Mimi stares in disbelief at Lip's open ogling of her. Apparently she's just not drunk enough to enjoy this kind of thing. She's docile throughout his jabs about her breasts but ultimately gets more red in the face when he mentions Foster and insults the man. She has a lengthy inner dialogue about what to do before she just walks away from the situation. Or so it would seem. She grabs her coffee from the table she was sitting at it and turns to look at Lip. "You can say whatever you want about me. But you can't talk that way about him." She stalks back over to Lip and throws her iced coffee in his face before lining up for a swift punch in the man's mouth while he's hopefully caught unawares. "And look here, ladies and gents! We have the Biggest Mouth in the West!"

Foster has been called far worse in his sad, little life, so, ironically, it's more the ogling and comments against Mimi that have him going red. "Uh, hey. Don't talk to her like that," he finally manages, barely able to get a word in edgewise between the two hot-heads he's faced with. And again, it's hardly like Mimi needs his help. He can only watch with disbelief as she tosses her coffee at Lip and then punches him. Damn. He fights the urge to sink down lower in his seat and turtle away from the risk of physical confrontation. Instead, he slowly gets to his feet, but remains by the table for now. He's got her back… somehow. He'll have to figure out the details quickly.

Darkness.

That's all that Lip sees for a few moments. When he's able to open his eyes, though, he's realizing that he's no longer standing upright. In fact, he is laying on the Starbucks floor and looking up at the ceiling. His face and his shirt are soaked in Iced Coffee. There is also a very sharp pain coursing through the side of his face. "What the hell…"

Lip pushes up to his feet, very slowly, before he turns around to try and get his bearings. He spots Boyo, who has walked up to him, smiling. Boyo just reaches out and shoves four Splenda packets into Lip's hand, before reaching to grab at Lip's shirt and the pouring of Lip's now lukewarm drink happens next.

"AH! WHAT THE FUCK! COME ON! Get off!" Lip is shoving and flailing at Boyo and then turns to spot Booty and The Geek. Both of whom get a glare, as he stumble-slides towards the door. "This shit ain't over! I know where you live!" Slip! Whoops!

It may take Lip a moment to actually get the hell out of here.

Mimi looks astounded that she's managed to knock Lip on his ass. "I'd have settled for a bloody lip," she mumbles. She looks in just as much awe as he is before she watches the Boyo come out with his Splenda and pour more coffee on him. As Lip gets to his feet and moves toward the door, Mimi returns to Foster and wraps an arm around him. It's not quite protective, but she looks a little confused when Lip mentions that he knows where she lives. "Oh yeah? Is that so? Then you oughta know I have an excellent security system and that my father is the Senator, too. Try it." She hisses at him before waiting for him to leave first. She leans in and murmurs to Foster, "Let's wait for him to go, then we'll go find a taxi and go somewhere else. How about the museum?"

Foster is just… Foster is so lost at this point. Somehow Mimi has turned out to be She-Hulk minus the green and has actually succeeded in driving off the bully. It's both sexy and emasculating, and he might be okay with that. "Yeah, uh, get the hell out," he chimes in belatedly, after even the barista has had a go at Lip. Strong words, considering how nervously he still eyes the much stronger dude. He's so lost by now, in fact, that Mimi's arm around him almost fails to fluster him. "I, uh. Yeah. Okay. There's … security there too," he notes, feeling a little bit better about hiding behind even museum security guards than trusting the barista to keep order, just in case Lip feels like revenge.

Lip slips once more as he gets to the door. "This shit ain't over! I got witnesses! Mad witnsesses, son! You two attacked me! It's on, now, girl! It's so on it ain't even Donkey Kong!" Lip shoves at the Starbucks doors and stomps his way out, heading directly for the Ferrarri that's parked in front of the building. "MOVE! GET THE HELL OUT MY WAY, MAN!" Yes, he's tougher out on the streets where nobody has seen him get own'd.

"It's alright, I have lawyers." Mimi assures Foster after Lip has made his way out to his Ferrarri. She kisses the man on the cheek and looks five seconds away from asking if he's okay before she squeezes his arm. "Let's get out of here before they have to call the police or something. My dad will kill me if I get in trouble again. It's bad enough I have a suspended license!" It sounds like Mimi's lawyers must be versed in these sorts of antics from her. Lucky for them. The staff doesn't seem terribly inclined to call the police on the young woman, however. They've already started mopping up the coffee. The other patrons don't seem concerned either. "Let's go to the museum and you can show me butterflies. My driver is parked out front." She starts to lead the nerdy boy outside to her cream-colored town car, making sure that Lip has driven off first.

"I, uh. Yeah. Museum, okay," Foster replies a bit absently, still reeling from the whole thing that just went down. He's nowhere near as used to these sorts of antics as she clearly is. But once it's been determined that Lip is really and truly gone, Foster begins to relax - as much as he ever does, anyway. "That was, uh… Um. Pretty awesome, I think," he replies, still not sure what to make of it. "You were… Yeah. Awesome." He lets her lead him along towards the car, which is also met with a look of some surprise… but not as much as it might have once garnered. "He just… sits here the whole time?" Rich people, man.

Mimi nods to him. "Yeah, that's what my dad pays him for. I can't drive anywhere anymore, so… I have to let one of our chaffeurs take me around." She does in fact imply that they have more than one professional driver. She gives him a squeeze and smiles. "Thanks. I didn't know I could do that! My fist hurts a little bit. That was really empowering. I could get into this feminism stuff," Mimi says as she gets in the backseat of the car.

"Oh. Yeah. Of course," Foster replies, as though this makes perfect sense. At least he refrains from yammering on about how he took the subway here. "Are you, uh, are you okay?" he asks with a touch of concern when she mentions her hand hurting a bit. "You… Yeah. Uh. I'd say you're pretty empowered." He clambers into the car behind her, trying not to outwardly goggle at the lushness of the vehicle. It's certainly no soccer-mom mini-van or broken down junker, the two cars he's known best in his life.

Mimi shrugs her shoulders a little bit and puts her punchin' hand on his knee. "It'll be okay. Probably just going to have a bruise or something. No real reason to worry about it. I'm more worried that he's gonna press charges…" Mimi says, chewing on her lower lip before she shrugs that off too. She has plenty of money and lawyers to fight said charges. She's more afraid of what daddy might do. With a weary sigh, she rests her head on Foster's shoulder and closes her eyes. "To the museum, Fritz! The one Foster works at." As if Fritz will know where that is. "It's hard being so tough," Mimi says to Foster.


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