A Serve of Justice

Prompt: A couple of adults get dressed up for some Halloween fun but the night doesn’t go as planned....

Each week I also rise to an additional challenge - that to explore a different genre or writing style. This week I visit Gaweda . Though I have taken some liberties ,I still utilized the essence of an oral tale with coloquial language liberally sprinkled throughout but focusing on Sarmatian morals.

Please suggest my next challenge in the comments - for ideas on the wide range of genres - go here.

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Matt twisted and peered down through the hot pink feather boa set on strangling him and looked at his newly waxed legs smothered in fishnets.

“Are you sure your girlfriend doesn’t mind us borrowing this?”

“Are you kidding? She’s the one who suggested it.” Pete grasped his overstuffed bra and fondled them grinning into the mirror.

“How do women put up with all this stuff?” Matt tugged on his shirt skirt, attempting to cover what decency he had left, in the process overbalancing on his heels and tumbling onto the bed.

Immediately there was a loud tap on the door. No doubt the girls had been standing there the entire time, suppressing the giggles which now resounded in the hall way. “Are you boys ok? At the risk of sounding like you before we go out, I need to tell you to hurry up or we will be late.”

“Nup we’re done. Prepare to be amazed.” Pete flung the door open, revealing three of his female friends in various positions against the now absent door. Amongst the disarray of stockings, garter belts, plumes of hairspray, scarves, shoes skirts and blouses stood two moderately attractive "women", dressed to go clubbing. Striking a convincing pose, Pete blew a kiss at his friends, while Matt continued to pull at his errant underwear.

Janet grinned. “The longer I go out with you, the more disturbed I am about your upbringing.” She shook her head as Pete rubbed his lips together, ensuring that his colour was evenly distributed.

“You know Matt, you should wear heels more often and that dress really accentuates your curves.”

“Right, that’s it, I’m not going. Or give me a sheet, I’ll go as a ghost.” He kicked the shoes of and sighed with relief.

Janet grasped at his befeathered neck and pleaded, “Oh come on I was just joking. You guys will be a riot. No-one is going to recognize you. And remember its all for charity.”

“Thank god” muttered Matt almost inaudibly, rubbing his feet before inserting them into the torturous footwear again.

Janet put her arms around their shoulders and critically assessed their makeup and outfits. “No seriously , you look great, if not a bit drag queenish. Lets go out – just us girls!”

She winked at the other two in the doorway and guided the reluctant Matt and jubilant Pete out to the car.

Throughout the night, Matt had gained confidence and even after the unveiling of masks and costumes, the pair had insisted at continuing to wear their outfits. As Janet had predicted, the Halloween fundraiser was a success; the crowning glory of the evening featuring the boys flirting with the audience around the pole dancing podiums.

Janet pleaded with them to stay on after the function had ended, but conceded her defeat when reminded of the lads busy schedule and appearances the following day. She blew kisses after them as they walked through the nightclub district. As they wound their way toward their parked car through the late night revelers spilling out on the footpaths outside pubs and bars, Pete and Matt were greeted with good hearted whistles and laughter. Despite looking worse for wear with streaked mascara and wigs at a disheveled angle, a casual glance might have passed them as a normal pair of suburban girls (albeit on the larger size) on their way home from a night out.

The breaking of a glass bottle behind them alerted them to a more negative aspect of the nights denizens.

“*kin hate youz queers.”

They stopped still, the hairs at the back of their necks standing to attention as the grogginess of an overabundance of champagne quickly wore off.

“Oii, youze poofers, cum and give me kiss.” A drunk raucous laughter erupted around them. Half a burger landed in Matts hair. He delicately picked it out of the wig and turned around.

“I’m assuming you won’t be wanting to eat the rest of this?” as he fluidly threw it into a nearby bin.

Pete flicked a look over the two office jockey sharing their private discriminatory jokes. “Come on lets go home and leave these drones to their misery.”

“*kin poofers, messin up the gene pool. Youz all need killin. Cum here ya fairies, I’ll *kin kill youz where ya stand.” One of the men flourished a few ineffectual punches in the air around him. Matt and Pete attempted to take a step sidewards to avoid him but were blocked by a larger man who then stood in front of them with his arms crossed.

“A pair a poofters just waiting to get dun by us. Cum on I’ll have yaz. Right lads into ‘em”

Glancing only momentarily at each other Pete and Matt gave their trademark stage wink and barreled into the bigoted group.

Not wanting their cage fighting licenses to be revoked, they left the scene before the police arrived, but not before dishing some justice of their own.