So last night, I managed to blag a free ticket to see Squarepusher with Alcock. It was awesome, obviously. So I was on my way home from the South Bank after the performance when I'm approached by these two lovely girls near the pier - identical twins. They offer me a lift in their limo. Rich identical twins. And forward, it turns out.
"I'm Brainella", one whispers into my ear as we're driving along. "My sister Intelligencia and me got really quite turned on by your air-bass skills during the performance."
It wasn't surprising, I am awesome at air bass. Intelligencia confirmed the interest by slipping a hand up my thigh. "We were wondering if you'd like to come back with us? For some coffee."
"And by coffee," Brainella added, "we mean sexual intercourse."
The way the word intercourse slipped out of Brainella's mouth like a sensual globet of drool was very attractive to me. So of course my answer was "I think that's a splendid idea."
We keep driving and eventually reach a row of terraced houses in a leafy suburb.
"There's our house", Brainella said. "Mother bought it for us so we could be close to all of our favourite clubs. She's so lovely."
Intelligencia was just looking at me with a hungry lust that seemed to say 'I've already decided I'm going to fuck you to death. I'm just figuring out how to explain it to the cops.'
We got out of the limo on the street. I could see two houses in front of us. "Which one is it?" I asked.
"Tell you what, if you can guess, we'll sleep with you." Intelligencia replied. "And we'll do anything."
"Anything." Brainella echoed, licking her lips and wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. "Of course, if you guess wrong, you're going home alone."
"That's just how we roll," nodded Intelligencia. "Just to be fair, you can ask one question, but we haven't got all day, so ask it fast."
"Uhm, hold on, i think I forgot my wallet in the car." I stammered, and rushed back to the limo.
"Mate," I said the driver. "You've got to help me out, they're playing some sort of stupid game..."
"You have the guess the house, right?" The driver responded curtly. "Yeah, they do this all the time. Just ask them which one it is."
"And they'll tell me?"
"Sort of. One always tells the truth and the other one is a lying slag. That's how it works. You just have to ask the right question."
I was starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. "Okay, nice one. So which one lies?"
The driver started to look fuzzy. "Brainella. Or actually, I think it's Intelligencia." He gave in and started to roll the window up. "Hell, I don't even know which one's which. Look mate, I'm a limo driver, not a psychologist. Figure it out."
The limo sped off into the night. I turned around to look at the twins. Brainella was playing with Intelligencia's right boob. But in a nice, innocent way. The task was clear: Choose the right house, and get a story that will live on down the generations. Choose the wrong house and... well I didn't want to think about that. Rohypnol?
"Well?" Intelligencia said impatiantly. "You got a question?"
Reader, I shagged them. But how did I pull it off? And no, it wasn't the Rohypnol.