A few days after the barbecue, at the breakfast table in the home of Mark and Larissa, the subject, sort of, arose again. Mark, watching his wife lean over to toss something in the trash, showing off that awesome ass, said, "Lari, were you serious the other night when you said you could take any woman on this cul-de-sac?"
Larissa stood up, turned around, and put her hands on her hips. "You don't think I can?"
Mark raised his hands in mock surrender and said laughingly, "That's not what I meant. I'm just making sure you're serious and it wasn't the wine talking..."
Larissa shook her head. "I had a lot of fights back in school, and I kicked some bitches' asses, believe me. Now, get ready for work...and maybe we can talk about this tonight...before bed."
The following night was a Wednesday, and, after dinner, Mark, as he usually did, walked across the street to Roy's house to have a beer with his friend. Wednesday's were regular hangouts for the men, as Vicki always spent the evening at her mother's house. Mark found Roy on the back patio, already sipping a cold one. He helped himself as usual and the subject eventually turned to the conversation at the previous weekend's barbecue.
"Vicki mention anything about what we talked about Saturday?" Mark asked.
"Sure did," Roy laughed. "And, she's serious about thinking she can take any of the women on the cul-de-sac. Wouldn't be surprised if she's right. She's in fantastic shape, everything firm and tight. I'm a lucky man..."
"That makes two of us," Mark said with a laugh. "Lari was serious, too, says she could kick the ass of any woman around here. Got me to thinking about that idea Jeff had for the battle royal. Wouldn't that be something? It's a pipedream, though..."
"I've been thinking about that," Roy said. "You know that clearing down at the end of the cul-de-sac, the one behind the privacy trees where the kids play..."
"And the older kids go to make out," Mark laughed. "That sucker is screened on every side. Perfect for some privacy..."
"It's big enough," Roy said with a nod. "I've still got the line painter from when the boy played baseball. I could line it around. Make a circle or a square. Last woman inside wins the thing..."
"The logistics aren't the problem," Mark said, with a shake of the head. "You'd never get most of those girls to agree. Oh, Lari might do it. You might convince Vicki. Jessica would, just to turn Jeff on. Amanda and Kait? Probably. They're both a little wild and wouldn't mind a scrap. You might get one or two of the others, but most would laugh at us..."
"I've been thinking about that, too," the older man said with a smile of his own. "First thing is, you couldn't have any of the men there. Our women might want to fight in front of us, but a lot of the other women wouldn't..."
"Makes sense," Mark interrupted, "But..."
"Let me finish," Roy said, raising a hand. "You'd need a referee to rule when a woman was out. That would be all, because, other than no weapons or anything, it would be 'no holds barred'. I figure Shelly would do it..."
Shelly was Roy's older sister. She was 53 and still gorgeous, a brunette with blue eyes and a lovely smile. "Hell," he continued, "She'd fight in the damn thing, but her husband wouldn't hear of it..."
"Still..." Mark said shaking his head.
"I'm getting there," Roy said and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a check made out to no one...in the amount of ten thousand dollars. "Now. This. This I think, might be of interest to some of the other women. Hell, maybe all of them."
"You're going to pay the winner ten grand out of your own pocket?" Mark said, laughing again. "You'll be the one Vicki beats the hell out of..."
"No," Roy said, shaking his head. "You know how well the two of us have done. We're comfortable for the rest of our lives if I never work another day...but I still work, because I'm too damn young to retire. Ten thousand is what we spend on a three-day weekend going to the ocean or some resort. Besides, Vick thinks she'll win the fight, and, if she does, she'll take my check and use it for mad money."
"OK," Mark replied, starting to understand what his friend was suggesting. "But. What the hell do you get out of it? None of us can be there. You're spending ten G for what, exactly?"
"The video, my boy," Roy said, grinning. "The video. Video of a dozen or so hot women, including my wife fighting in bikinis. Video I can watch any time I want for the rest of my life. Because, there will be video, or several videos shot from different angles..."
"And," Mark said grinning, "You will edit that fucker into a masterpiece on your computer..."
"Damn right, I will, because nobody outside of Hollywood is better at that shit than your boy, Roy," he said, with a grin of his own. "I know where to set up the cameras so we don't miss a thing..."
"We?" Mark said, grinning even more broadly.
"We," said Roy, "Because, three copies of the final video will be made, one for me, one for Jeff, and one for you. I'll call it 'Queen of the Cul-De-Sac.' Hell, maybe I'll lay out another thousand and have a jeweled tiara made for the winner. In fact, I think I will."
"You think you can get the women to sign off on being videoed?" Mark asked.
"Think about what you just said," he said with a laugh. "If they agree to fight one another in a field in bikinis for ten thousand bucks, they're going to agree to be videoed doing it, as long as they trust us not to let that video get out. Which they will, because our wives will be part of it."
"I'm starting to think this just might work," Mark said shaking his head and smiling. "And that you might be a genius..."
"Right on both counts," Roy shot back. "Now, let's have another cold one!"
