Survival of the Fittest

 

Chapter 4

 

Paul eyed the V.I.P. section warily. It was 7:00 p.m., and the hotel lobby was swarming with Eminem fans. Marshall had booked the largest event room on the island and paid a small fortune to have it setup for an “impromptu performance.”

 

Impromptu performance, my ass. He thought. Fucker just spent over thirty grand to get that woman’s attention, and for what? She’s not even here!

 

“Paul!”

 

He turned around with a sigh, “Yeah, Marsh?”

 

“She here yet?”

 

“No. Did you consider the possibility she wouldn’t show?”

 

“She’ll be here. She’s probably just tryin’ to piss me off.”

 

He sighed again. “You’re gonna have to go on soon whether she’s here or not. This room is way over capacity.”

 

Marshall frowned and walked over to him. He scanned the crowd with interest, but when he didn’t see Savannah Rae – turned on his heel and started back towards his dressing room. “Hold them off,” He said simply.

 

Hold them off? He was supposed to hold them off? There were at least two thousand people crammed in there!

 

~*~

 

Marshall paced the small dressing room impatiently. Where the fuck was she?  She was already a half hour late as it was…

 

A knock sounded at the door, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. “What?” He yelled.

 

“Elvis has entered the building! I repeat: Elvis has entered the building!”

 

He walked over and threw the door open. “Why can’t you just say she’s here?”

 

“Okay,” Paul shrugged. “She’s here-.”

 

He ground his teeth in frustration. “Is she in the V.I.P. area?”

 

“Yeah, Marsh. She’s right up front- just the way you wanted.”

 

“Cameras?” He pressed.

 

Paul gave him a hard look. “Please tell me we aren’t going to get sued over this.”

 

“Do we have her on camera or not?”

 

“Yes, dammit! We have her on camera!”

 

“Good. ‘Cause this is one of those moments, you know? I think I’ma treasure it the rest of my life,” He smirked.

 

“You sound like a fucking Kodak commercial,” His manager spat. “Do you think you could bless us with your presence onstage anytime soon?”

 

Marshall tried to hide his grin. “I might.”

 

Paul waited expectantly, and Marshall finally relented. “Give me five minutes and then signal the crew.”

 

He nodded and turned to leave, muttering under his breath.

 

“Yo, did you just say your money is on her?” Marshall shouted at his retreating back, but Paul just gave him the finger and kept walking.

 

~*~

 

“… coming to you live in a special impromptu performance: EMINEM!”

 

Marshall rolled his eyes and ran out on stage. He performed a forty minute set, and at the end of it – he turned to face the V.I.P. section. “Savannah Rae!” He called out.

 

The entire crowd seemed to surge closer, undoubtedly trying to see who he was talking to. He had security out in full force tonight though, and they were swiftly pushed back to a safe distance.

 

It was one of the things he’d been adamant about. The crowd had to be kept under control, and the V.I.P. section had to be guarded at all costs.

 

Satisfied that everything was going as planned, he continued: “this one’s for you…”

 

Savannah Rae/ Girl, you think I’m gay?
You think a 6’2 Mariah Carey fairy gon’ make me sway?
I admit it – she was kinda cute
But c’mon baby, she gotta a dick
And mine’s only hard for you 
What, did you think you'd make me puke?
The critics, they scream, they yell
GLAAD says I'm goin straight to hell
But I’ll tell you a li’l secret now: I may say fag and I may say bitch
But damn you, you little witch – I didn’t start this shit 
Them’s just words made into rhymes
I’ve said it a million times, a joke’s a joke – that’s no crime

But I’ll say it again, just for you and your friends

Send that guy back again! I’ll play Britney, I’ll dress in drag

Just hand me that damn Prada shopping bag

Cuz I know what I like, so I’ll pull up my skirt

And give it to *you* slow and easy
You stacked, tight ass little flirt 

Was you hopin’ to make me uneasy, or just a bit queasy?
I thought that shit was funny, honey -
Too bad you wasted your money 
You wanted the last word
That’s what I heard
Damn, Savannah Rae
Don’t you know this is Slim Shady you tryin’ to play? 
You don’t got a man –Now Slim’s got the plan
Gotta see for myself if them babies is implants
So hey little RaeRae, don't try to deny it....Shady's gonna get in them pants.

 

 

Marshall quickly scanned the path between them, and seeing it was clear – jumped down from the stage and headed straight for her. He sidestepped two of her friends and got both arms around her before she could utter a single protest. “So, whaddya say?”

 

There was a split second where she just looked at him, and Marshall was sure he was going to be choking on his balls. In fact, the way he was holding her – it was a forgone conclusion if she decided to take the shot.

 

She didn’t, though. And even Marshall had to admire the devious way her mind worked, because he didn’t see it coming until it was too late.

 

Savannah Rae literally climbed him, squealing “He’s mine, girls! I got him! I got Eminem!” She rained kisses down on his face, and he would never forgive her for what she said next:

 

“So.. all that stuff isn’t true then? You really don’t need a drag queen to get… I mean, if you have to take Viagra or something, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” She looked up as if suddenly aware they were on camera. “Oh, no. We aren’t being filmed, are we?”

 

“Yeah, we are.” He said dryly, and started making his way through the crowd with her, and away from the cameraman.

 

“You could put me down, you know.”

 

“You just said, on film I might add – that I’m a half-queer, fucking can’t get it up, Viagra popping loser. And you think I’ma put you down?”

 

Security steered them to the left, and Marshall realized they were heading for the service elevator.

 

“I didn’t say queer, and I didn’t say you were a loser. I just said you needed inspiration from drag queens and a little chemical help from Viagra. Queer isn’t exactly a politically correct term, you know.”

 

Marshall spotted Paul and tried to wave, but he had the witch in his arms and couldn’t. He nodded instead, and they continued down the hallway.

 

“Elvis has left the building! I repeat: Elvis has left the building!”

 

She looked over his shoulder and then back at him, “They call you Elvis?”

 

He chuckled, “No, they call you Elvis.”

 

She glared at him. “Guess that makes you Priscilla, then.”

 

“Christ, you got a smart mouth.” He muttered, and stepped onto the service elevator. The security staff stayed behind since he was going straight to his suite; they were alone at last.

 

“Put me down,” She demanded again.

 

“No fuckin’ way. You owe me.”

 

“Owe you? I don’t owe you a damned thing! You’ve had your revenge, Oh-Mighty-Rapper.”

 

“Those nicknames are getting more stupid every time you make one up. And no, I didn’t. You ruined it again.”

 

“So I said you couldn’t get it up! So what!

 

“Well, for one – you lied!”

 

Savannah Rae smirked at him. “Not necessarily. How would I know?”

 

He shifted her slightly, “Keep wiggling like that and you’ll find out soon enough.”

 

They arrived at the suite and the guard stationed outside let them in. “It’s all clear, Mr. Mathers.”

 

“Thanks, Mac.”

 

The minute they were inside she started bitching again. Marshall ignored her protests, and went straight to the bedroom.

 

“Put me down!” She demanded. “I already told you I don’t owe you a damned thing!”

 

He looked down at her and smiled slightly. “You want me to put you down?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“Okay, well –.” He tossed her down on the bed,  “is that better?”

 

Her eyes shot daggers at him and she sat up, “What do you think you’re doing?”

 

“You owe me. I told you that, right?”

 

She quirked an eyebrow at him but otherwise didn’t reply.

 

“I’m collecting.. and this calls for a mercy fuck, at least.”

 

Savannah Rae’s expression turned to amused, and she leaned back against his pillows leisurely…

 

“Hmmm… I don’t know about that.” She smirked. “Let me see the goods..”

~*~

Author’s Notes: Okay, first of all – please excuse the rhyme! That’s definitely *not* a skill I possess. And believe it or not, I worked really hard on that lousy thing!

 

Also, sorry if this chapter really isn’t up to par. I haven’t had much time for writing the last few months, and it kinda sucks trying to get back in the groove… I’ll get there, though.

 

As always – please don’t take this too seriously. It’s all for fun, I mean no offense etc…,

 

Dedication: for Savannah Rae, who I hope is doing well, and for Aimee- who helped me cleanup the rhyme and convinced me to go ahead and use it. I probably woulda been a chickenshit for a few more weeks without you!

 

And last, but never forgotten – huge thanks to everyone that’s given me feedback!

Chapter 5

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Author: jenn@shadyfiction.com

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.