Disclaimer: I don't own it :)

Hello ladies.. soo who saw Breaking Dawn? *raises hand* twice in twenty four hours :) really want to go again but my job blows and days off are like unicorns

Welcome to my new story. Brown Eyes and Stalkerboy Cause I decided to try my hand at comedy again. I think I did an awesome job with this one. Hopefully you will think so too. The chapters are short and I promise to update at least every other day but don't hate me if I accidentally can't do. Thanks Caitlin for beta-ing the shit out of this one.. and the other one.. and the next one :) You rock my techno-colored toesocks!

Chapter One

The coffee shop is packed.

Business suits pouring in and out for their early morning caffeine fix. I'm lucky I managed to snag a table at this hour. I tap my fingers against the table and watch the chaos unfold around me.

A man sits at the condiment counter, dabbing at his silken tie where a drop of jelly landed, having fallen out of the end of his donut, while others wait to use the fancy creamers and sugars that line the shelf behind him. I watch as a middle aged woman in a tight pinstriped skirt and a Bluetooth in her ear runs straight into the only waitress in the joint.

Their collision can be heard across the room as the three ceramic cups the girl was carrying on her tray crash to the floor. The hot liquid splashes up as the woman in the skirt opens her mouth to let out a screech.

"You idiot!" She turns her head as if she's talking to someone else. "No, not you, Jerry. This retard just spilled coffee all over me!"

"Excuse me?" the waitress asks. She's a tall brunette, wearing faded jeans, an old The Cure band tee and a flowery apron.

"Look what you did!" Skirt screams, pointing to her suit.

"Well, if you weren't talking to that stupid contraption attached to your ear, you would have heard me say 'excuse me'!" the brunette screams just as loudly.

The entire shop is silent as they watch the altercation. The waitress turns to see that everyone's attention is on her and Skirt. Her eyes are brown, and her lips are full, but pursed in anger. The fat, bald dude behind the counter turns the other cheek and moves to the espresso machine. Skirt steps forward, but Brown Eyes holds her hand up.

"You don't want to do this, girly," she warns.

"Is that a threat? You just ruined my shoes! Christian Louboutin! Does that mean anything to you?"

Brown Eyes looks down at the coffee stained shoes and smirks. "Don't you think those shoes are a little impractical for this weather?"

It's true. It's like twenty degrees outside and the snow is a bitch to walk in wearing boots. I try to imagine what it would be like to traipse around the frozen, slush filled ground wearing a pair of four inch spiky shoes, but Skirt brings my cross dressing thoughts back to the present.

"These shoes cost more than what you make in a month serving coffee, you imbecile."

"Really? Dang." Brown Eyes pulls up the leg of her jeans and shows off a tattered red shoe. "These are Toms. Fifty bucks and it's for charity. Those shoes were probably made in a sweat shop for less than fifteen bucks and their proceeds don't go towards a charity. Pity."

"Do I look like I give a shit about charity?" Skirt screeches. "Where's your manager?"

"He's behind the counter," Brown Eyes says, pointing to the fatty behind the counter. "Uncle Charlie!"

"What's up, kiddo?" He calls not turning back from espresso machine.

"Tell this bitch to watch her mouth before I shut it for her."

Uncle Charlie only chuckles and hands the customer at the counter their fancy drink.

"Did you just call me a bitch?" Skirt's face turns red and her fists clench.

I'm practically on the edge of my seat, watching all of this go down. I should have brought popcorn!

"Yes I did," Brown Eyes nods, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Which it sort of is. She clearly called the woman a bitch. We're all witnesses.

"Listen here, you inbred skank..." Skirt steps forward and Brown Eyes raises an eyebrow.

"I'm gonna stop you right there, doll face," she smirks. "I've got a temper like no other and you do not want to make me angry."

"I'm so out of this dump!" Skirt turns towards Uncle Charlie. "I can't believe you're still open with this trash working here."

And with that she turns towards Brown Eyes and spits at her feet.

"That's very lady like," Brown Eyes says before stepping around the spit. "You're lucky you missed."

Before Skirt can ask why, Brown Eyes cocks her fist back and punches her square in the face. Skirt is down for the count, laying among the spilt coffee, shattered cups and her saliva as her Bluetooth skids across the floor from the blow. Brown Eyes steps over her nearly unconscious body and picks up her serving tray.

"'Cause instead of breaking your fucking face, I stuck to just your nose." She straightens up and walks over to the counter before turning back. "Good luck covering up those black eyes, doll face."

The shop is quiet as Skirt stands up on wobbly stained heels and grabs her purse with one hand. The other is holding her bloody swollen nose. Before she can make it to the door, someone from across the room starts a slow clap that turns into a full on applause as everyone drops what they have in their hands so they can clap. I set my phone down and have to stop myself from wolf whistling.

Skirt staggers out the door, screeching something about lawsuit.

Brown Eyes climbs onto the counter and gives a deep bow.

Fuck me. I think I'm in love.

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