The Slushie Slut

"Verily I say unto thee, I require another”

The bartender appraised the woman for a moment, taking in a missing shoe, a cape, and a tit one dance move away from escaping her top. She sighed, looking at a bar full of other customers.

“Honey, what is your deal?” The bartender asked.

“Verily I say unto thee - I am the slushie slut! I am here to liberate your slushies. Forsooth!”

“Forsooth?” The bartender's eyebrow disappeared behind her bangs.

“Forsooth. Wherefore art thou, bartender.”

“Are you Shakespearing at me?”

The young woman bobbled for a moment, quite unsure of how to answer. Eventually she squeaked out a “...no?”

“You’d better not be,” the bartender growled. “For real now, what’s your deal?”

“I’m a slut! For slushies!”

This attracted the attention of a handful of nearby males. A chorus of “it’s on me” or “whatcha want?” erupted and the slushie slut was momentarily distracted by all the attention. The bartender slipped away in order to take care of a few of the other patrons.

By the time the bartender made it back to the caped consumer, it was apparently time for tequila. This request, at least, was quick and required no translation. The bartender was able to serve four more patrons before the chanting started.

“Slu-shie, Shu-Shie, SLU-SHIE!” the bartender swore under her breath, then approached the group. The moment she leaned on the bar the rowdy group erupted in a cheer.

“To slushie, or not to slushie - that is the question” the inebriated instigator yelled over the din.

“SLUSHIE!” her audience cried out.

The bartender, bedraggled, obliged. The group received their slushies, though the bartender retained one strategic straw.

“A straw! A straw! My kingdom for a straw!” the slut cried out.

"What, you egg?” [She stabs her.] (with the straw, of course)