Caught Revisited

 

“So, girls,” Marshall began, “I’m sure you guys gotta some questions that you want answered ‘bout me, so ask ‘em!”

“Well…actually!” one writer spoke.  “A gal came up with a post thing where we had to answer the question ‘if you could ask Eminem three questions…’ so we do have a bunch for ya!”

“Sounds good, um, just rattle ‘em off?” he suggested.

“’kay,” Christine replied, taking the initiative.  “Can I use that?” she asked, pointing to the computer beside him.

“Yeah, of course.”

Marshall made idle chit chat with the girls as Christine typed away and located the post that they’d made a reference to earlier.

“All right, ready for ‘em?” she asked him with a curious glint in her eyes.

“Fire away.”

“Top or bottom?”

He choked.  “Say what?!”

“Top or bottom?” she repeated easily.  “It’s a fairly simple question…”

“Both.”

“That’s not an answer!” a girl accused.

“Hm,” he murmured thoughtfully.  “Fine, bottom,” he replied with a blush.

“What kind of car do you drive?”

“Navigator.”

“Color?”

“Black.”

“Hmm,” Christine hummed.  “This ain’t my question, so it’s not me who’s asking, but…  Can I have your children?”

That garnered a loud laugh from the blonde.  “I got one; that’s more than enough.”

“Stupidest thing you’ve ever done?”

“Breaking my wrist—it was so fucking lame.  I tripped on some damn wires right before we were set to film.”

“Cutest thing Hailie’s ever done?”

“Everything she does is cute!” he whined.  “No way I could choose. 

“Fine,” she conceded and moved onto the next question, “Most expensive thing you own?”

“My house.”

“Other than that?”

“I don’t really know.  Uhh, some jewelry.”

“You’re bling blingin’!” someone laughed.

Marshall just raised an eyebrow.

“Would you ever do another movie?” Christine continued.

“Yeah, I would.  Acting’s great.”

“If you could be any superhero, who would you be?”

“Batman.  Superman’s a pussy, and everyone else has some weird ass costumes.  At least Batman gets the girls.  And Catwoman.  She’s hot.”

Everyone laughed.  “So you’d be our batman, not our superman?” a girl surmised.

“Favorite slow song of all time?”

“Oh, shit.  Man, I have no fuckin’ clue.”

Christine gave him a pointed look.

“Let me think of the cheesiest song ever…  Bette Midler – ‘Wind Beneath My Wings’.”

“Did you ever know that you’re my hero?  You’re all I wished I could be…” someone sang.

Marshall ran his hands over his face.  “Stop, stop!”

“These next questions are comin’ from Ash:  ‘Do you want to see my strip tease that I made up for you that I choreographed to some of the music from the Pussy Cat Dolls?  Will you fuck with me now?  Will you marry me?’  Serious answers, please!”

“First one – no Pussy Cat Dolls, reminds me of some girls I just ain’t cool with.  Second one – you legal?  Third – are you nuts?!”

“Just a few more questions,” Christine replied with merriment in her eyes.  “If you could take it all back, would you?”

“Sometimes, I think:  I wish this had never happened.  But then, I realize that if it didn’t, I don’t even know if I’d be alive, or if Hailie would be around—so in the end, I wouldn’t because it helped me survive and make a better life for my family.”

“Nice answer,” she said smoothly.  “What are you most proud of?  I bet I know the answer to this one!”

“Hailie,” he answered without hesitance.

“Yep, bet right,” Christine murmured.  “Our girl Diamond wants to know if she can chain you to her bed?”

“Is she legal?  Hell, you girls are kinky as fuck.”  

“So?” the girls replied with a quirky smile.

 

As everyone filed out of his office to go down to the conference room for a gourmet luncheon, Marshall pulled Christine back.

“Don’t you got any questions for me?  I heard from everyone but you.”

“I don’t really want to know the answer to the first one.  I already know the answer to the second.  And the third…”

“What about it?”

“What’s the quickest way to get into your pants, Marshall Mathers?” she grinned.

~*~

The end.

Author: zines@aol.com

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These stories are for entertainment purposes only.  They are completely fictitious, and the authors mean no harm to EMINEM, his family, friends, or anyone else that may have been depicted as a 'real life' character.  No money was made on the fiction here, either directly or indirectly, i.e. paid advertising. In other words - it's just a bunch of shit we wrote for fun. Please don't take it seriously.