How to Pick Up Women: TF2 Style!

By Trick Steven

Chapter 1: How To Pick Up Women: Demoman Style!

Today was a rare day in the history of the BLU team. Today was the start of a week long vacation.

Although the case of their base being blown to smithereens by a rocket-happy RED Solider was partly to blame for their break, (As was Demoman's "liberal" amount of sticky bombs and grenades in retaliation.) the all-omnipotent Announcer sent them off because as Sniper so eloquently put it, "She's fuckin' pissed."

So as the cleanup crew fixed up the rubble and built a new base, the BLU team went off in their separate ways around the globe to visit family and friends or just to relax.

Scout however, wasn't too thrilled at the prospect of visiting his family in Boston. He still considered his brothers to be in the "jackasses" category and he hadn't forgotten the fact that his mother had slept with the RED Spy. So when Demoman offered him to go to L.A, Scout took the chance.

A day and a half later, Scout was staring at the beautiful women of West Hollywood…with a look of frustration etched on his face. Sitting at an outside bar with a beer in one hand, Scout was trying his hardest to catch the attention of some pretty girls with no luck. Every time he opened his mouth, he would be ignored, time and time again. Tired of striking out, Scout turned to Demoman, who was sitting on the barstool next to him.

"Man, Demo why are the chicks not diggin' me?" asked Scout, frowning.

"Maybe because ye're not old enough ta drink laddie? Ha!" replied Demoman, grinning as he took a drink from a bottle of scotch.

"Oh come on! I'm freakin' irresistible!" shouted Scout "And anyways I drink all the time at the base."

"Well this isn't the base, if ye haven't noticed." Said Demoman as he paused to watch a particularly buxom woman walk by.

Demoman then turned to Scout and said, "Look, ye wouldn't even be drinking if it weren't for me."

"Ya, the bar guy looked pretty freaked. I guess a black Scottish guy really shakes things up around here."

"Black Scottish Cyclops," corrected Demoman.

"Ya,ya, I know," waved off Scout. "But I swear… these girls have to be lesbian…"

"Ya should tell 'em your bat liner! I'm sure that'll go over well with tha' lassies!" goaded Demoman, elbowing Scout in the stomach.

"You think I should?" asked Scout, perking up.

"Yeah! Women love funny pick-up lines."

"Really?! Well then, ready or not ladies, here I come!" Scout then puffed up his chest and walked over to the nearest girl.

Scout cleared his throat and said, "Hey."

The girl stopped talking to her friend and turned around.

Scout then gave a cocky smile and said, "Wanna feel my bat?"

The girl looked at him for about two seconds, then threw the contents of her margarita glass on his face and walked away.

Scout, shocked, stood there for a couple seconds and when he realized what happened, he turned bright red and stalked back to his bar stool. Demoman, who watched the whole thing, was laughing.

"Oh, that was a good one! I think ye made me cry!" guffawed Demoman, banging his hands on the bar table in uncontrollable laughter.

Scout glared at him. "Shut up! I bet you can't get a chick either!"

Demoman's ears pricked up and he stopped laughing. "A bet, lad? Did I hear that correctly?"

"Yah, a bet! I bet you a hundred bucks that you can't get a girl to come back to your hotel room!" said Scout with fierce determination.

"And if I get two to come back with me? Double tha' money, right?"

Scout snorted in skepticism. "Sure, if you can do it. You'll owe me two hundred bucks if you can't."

"Then it's a deal."

Demoman extended his hand and Scout shook on it.

As Demoman quickly finished up the rest of his scotch and got up, Scout shouted, "You know you're going to lose, right? Those two hundred bucks are mine!"

"That's what you think lad!" shouted Demoman with a laugh.

A few bar stools down was another girl, this time a blonde, and she was looking bored, stirring her martini glass with a toothpick.

"Mind if I buy you a drink lass?"

She looked up and saw the Demoman. Her face lit up and she flashed him a smile.

"Sure, sure! Oh my god, are you from Ireland?!" asked the blonde excitedly.

"Eh, close enough," shrugged Demoman as he took a seat.

"My friend's grandpa was Irish! Hey Carrie!" called out the girl and her friend, a redhead, came by. "This guy's from Ireland!" She then asked Demoman, "You don't mind if she joins us?"

Demoman then leaned back and smiled. "I don't mind at all."

About forty-five minutes later, Scout was about to give up seeing Demoman win the bet. But before he got up to leave, lo and behold, Demoman, with one woman on each arm, materialized.

Scout's eye twitched. "But…h-how?"

"Oh I guess women here like foreign accents," explained Demoman, grinning from ear to ear.

"Irish guys are hot!" giggled the blonde and the redhead in unison.

"Oh my god. He is not Irish! He's a fuckin' drunk Scottish guy! Can't you see that?!"

"Apparently they don't care," replied Demoman. "And ya now owe me two hundred dollars. Have fun giving yourself a twitch for tha' rest of the night! Come on ladies, we have tha' whole night to our selves. Let's enjoy it, shall we?"

And with that, Demoman disappeared with the women and Scout was left on his bar stool, smelling like sour margarita mix and defeat.