Feminism + Firecracker, inspired by http://i.imgur.com/99OZLb9.png   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------   Kenji couldn't believe his luck. He had scored a second date. And that date was tonight. At this place here. At least, he hoped it was this place. Shifting his scarf, he squinted down at the paper in his hand. "O'Malley's Scottish Pub, 7PM" He looked up at the bright neon sign above him. "O'Malley's Scottish Pub" Check. He looked at his watch. "6:55PM" Check. Remembering the tips his Anonymous friends had given him in the last alpha thread, Kenji made sure to make his strides long and deliberate as he walked towards the host. Or hostess. It was hard to see.   "'sup, man. I have a reservation for 7. Under 'Setou'." He pushed a 500 yen note across the books. "Make sure we get a good-" Bzzz. Bzzz. Jumping behind the podium with surprising agility, Kenji fished his cell phone out of his pocket. As he flipped his phoneopen, he was relieved to see that it was just from Yuuko, and not from The Order.   'Hey, Kenji. I don't know how to say this, so I'm just going to text. I'm not going to show up tonight. I don't think we should see each other anymore. I hope we can be friends!"   That.   Obnoxious.   BITCH!   A true alpha doesn't show his emotions, though, so Kenji very deliberately rose from his crouch and turned to the host (hostess?).   "Nevermind. I'll take a seat at the bar. And whiskey. No napkins, either. Just whiskey." Kenji couldn't believe what was happening. To him, of all people. 'Fuck that. Fuck her. Fuck women, man. They were all the same. Fucking sluts. Whores. Impure succubi. The robots on /r9k/ were right. Fuckin-'   Kenji's musings were interrupted by the bartender sweeping in with two drinks.   "Your whiskeys, fellas. Enjoy."   At the sight of another whiskey, Kenji finally took stock of his surroundings. On the barstool to his left was a blonde guy. Or girl? It was hard to see. Wait, he's wearing a pinstripe suit. That's definitely a fellow guy.   "Hey, man. You drinking whiskey too?"   Akira raised her tired eyes to Kenji. Work had been hell, and she wasn't interested in getting hit on. She ignored him.   "'s cool. A man of few words. I can respect that. You know what, fuck bitches, man. Fuck 'em all."   Akira rolled her eyes. Oh great, one of those. Poor guy probably got stood up. Whatever. She gave a noncommital grunt and decided to let the kid ramble on. She could use a laugh.   "Seriously!!" Kenji yelled as he began to wave his arms. "They're all in a secret league, bro. All of 'em! The bitches have got a secret agenda. There's a whole command rank and everything! And they're led by a Triumvirate!! Bartender, more whiskey!"   Akira's interest had officially been piqued. "Ohoho. A Triumvirate, huh? So, uh, who's in this Triumvirate, 'bro'?"   "The Queen! Aunt Jemina! And Hilary Clinton!" Kenji raved. "They have absolute power! They can be anywhere at any time! They can- dammit, bartender! More whiskey!"   Akira had decided that she was going to have some fun tonight. "No way, man!" She gasped in mock horror. "What can we do to avoid it?"   Lowering his voice to a whisper, Kenji leaned in conspiratorially. "I've got a whole plan, man. I could show you sometime. I have graphs and everything. You like puppets?" He leaned back upright. "I've got tons of puppets. What I don't have, however, is more whiskey! Bartender! Whiskey! Now!"   "Say we skip the puppets. What kind of-"   'FIGHTING EVIL BY MOONLIGHT, WINNING LOVE BY-'   Akira began hacking madly at her pockets at the sound of her ringtone. Finally finding the offending object, she flipped it open to take the call.   "Ayo, this is Supervisor Satou speaking. How can I- Oh, hey Kohei. ... He isn't talking? Did you try his kneecaps? ... Oh wow. ... Really? The paper shredder? ... Yeah, gimme ten minutes." Akira clicked her phone shut and turned back to Kenji. "Yo, as much as I want to hear your grand plans, I gotta get going." Laying a couple thousand yen on the bar, Akira got up to leave.   A thoroughly drunk Kenji made to get up after her.   "Hey, man. Promise me one thing."   "Sure thing, fellow 'bro'. What is it?"   "DON'T LET THE FEMINISTS GET TO YOU, MAN!! I COULDN'T HANDLE IT IF THEY GOT YOU TOO!"   Wiping spit off of her cheek, Akira grabbed Kenji's shoulder and took note of the comforting weight of her Five-Seven near her ribs.   "I'll be fine, kid. Trust me. Later."   Kenji watched the pinstiped hero walk out of the bar. He had just saved another man's life today. Those feminists would never win. Not on his watch. Nice. The only thing that could make this better would be-   "More whiskey!"