“I am done with this mental ejaculation of you silly women,” Hardik calmly says. Both turned towards him with mouths gaped open as if someone has injected a jab on their jaws. Jimmy’s level of confusion just hit a peak and threw himself on the couch, “OK! Women! I don’t know who is faking what but I just want my CD prize and date. Sort it out among yourselves on who will be my Date.”
“It’s me. No question about it, “RJ Ginny repeated herself as if she suddenly turned into an actor repeating well-rehearsed lines. “Except that we don’t fake orgasm,” Geet let off. Hardik walked towards the coffee machine and pressed the button. He held the hot plastic cup and walked towards the trio. Geet jerked herself towards the coffee holder in a swift movement and he lost control trying to save both damsels in distress and coffee. The plastic cup volleyed in the direction of two legs spread open on the couch showing his asset, zipped tight in the denim. Jimmy yelped, “Dude! What is fucking wrong with you?” He looked like a mess with the hot liquid spurting and covering his denim and flowing, unable to save his inside.
Ginni couldn’t stop laughing at the shell-shocked guest at the radio station. “Dude, did you just coffee pee all over the place in the radio studio. Gotta be breaking news had Arnab Goswani spotted you.” He jemmied towards Hardik but couldn’t move with the slim-fit jeans getting stickier.
He strutted with difficulty and moving away from the couch and shouted, “Ok! I am off from this asylum and weird shit hole called radio station in the company of monkeys. Fuck you! Fuck your date! Fuck your hamper! Fuck you guys.” The emasculated guy trotted slowly as if somebody hit him in his private. Geet winked at Hardik. He knew she faked the tripping on him and on the spur of the money Ginni had to call out, “Jimmy dude! A promise is a promise, 98261******.”
The lovers couldn’t believe what she just did. Geet was ready to pounce on her friend and break her face after she turned all her efforts into waste. “Woman! Have you gone off and so fucking desperate that you want to be on a date with that weirdo? Are you some Lara Croft trapped into the body of Ekta Kapoor’s Nagin character? Or wait! I have a better idea and you aspiring to join politics? Smriti Irani is your idol. You are Tulsi Virani, except you are tired of getting laid and you fancy the spilled coffee for his liquid. Craving for ice cream scoop.”
A middle finger flung at the flustered hero, declaring self-love on radio for his honey. “You, yes you, I am speaking to,” Geet turned into a wounded tigress. He turned around to see if there was another male inside the station. “I am speaking to you. What’s up with this hero giri of declaring love to me on air?” What was the need for you to dash into the radio station? You’ve messed the whole thing.” Hardik made an apologetic face at both women and drooled over Ginni, giving her sos look. “This man in distress wants to ask about your virginity,” Geet teased her friend.
Ginni lit a cigarette and asked him, “Wanna smoke?” He lifted his finger to take a stick from her pack and she wrestled it away, “Cigarettes are like condom. You should always bring yours… Arre I’m just kidding.” She lit the smoke for him. Geet was amused watching them.
“Dude! Are you in love with me?,” the RJ asked. “Oh! No! Somebody please fuck me. I am meeting you for the first time.” She winked, “Obviously you are cuckoo and ladoo for her,” pointing fingers at Geet. He didn’t know where to look. “Dude, you actually called not her but me on radio…”
He blabbered, “What? She is you. I mean you are not her…I mean it was Geet I spoke on radio. It’s her voice na.”
“Arre dakkan. I am Ginni. She is Geet.” The latter chipped in, “Even if I was her, what’s the need for you to land in this studio. You have no fucking idea how things would get so horrible,” She was in no mood to hide the ex-fiance and started shouting at him. He tried to protest.
“Dude, you just shut the fuck up? You have no fucking idea how you actually royally screwed my ass on radio…almost. I was called to do an audition with her. The radio was looking for someone and after giving the exam papers, I drove here in the mad Pune traffic, almost hitting someone dead. Yes! It was me on air but just like a cunt you had to blow things up. Who are you? Some fucking Jesus Christ! Saint Valentine or what…majnu ke aulaad that you had to call on radio. Some Mother Theresa or Anna Hazare that you were worried that someone would kidnap me.”
“What? What did I do?”, he made a doe-eyed face.
“Yeah, right you are Babe Amte…I do all the fucking and you sit and watch, asshole,” Geet was furious. Ginni tried to calm her down and stood between both of us. The last thing she wanted is her friend hitting him. Angry woman wouldn’t relent and ignored the human woman, “Yaa dude! You just screwed my fucking audition and the first thing pretending all hero calling on the radio declaring your flame…dude in front of everyone,” she was incensed.
“Are we playing Kabutar jaa jaa? What next do you plan to do? Clip the wings of a random pigeon with a love letter and send it to my home?”
“Why would I do that?” he replied in monosyllable.
“Yeah! You couldn’t hold yourself to spread some raita so much that you had to follow me all the way to the radio station. You expect me to be so happy and showering you with arati…Sardani bohot khush hogi na and shabhashi degi. What are you thinking? I was a damsel in distress…akeli ladki khulli tijori and you have to play superman saving me. No! Actually not superman but Shaktimaan.”
He muttered apologies. “Dude! What sorry! You have no idea of this screw-up of declaring flame for me on antenna. Btw, do you know the entire story,” she calmed.
Ginni says, “Dude! I am the RJ and not her.”
“What…it’s getting spooky, this radio station,” he lost his voice.
“Because, baby, when you confessed love, I took over, “Ginni was seductively playing around, flirting and caressing her hair. “You kept saying I love you to me. I was wondering whether you are human or an elephant. I was feeling hard inside listening to a man so desperate.” Geet’s stomach churned, by breaking into concatenate laughter by listening to her friend.
“Just look at her,” Geet protested against her friend for laughing and at Hardik, “Don’t look at her and buy into her flirty flirty games. There is no cock confusion for Madam RJ keeps getting laid like protein milkshake.” The man and Miss Protein Milkshake choked. “Shocked,” she asked.
“Except Jim Beam is no aphrodisiac for my liquid. He’s Geet’s ex-fiance and she banged you immediately after breaking it off,” RJ G turned into a rocket and hit an arrow swelling straight into Hardik’s heart.