The next morning, Juan was practically bouncing out of his seat in the diner as he inhaled a plate of pancakes shaped like dice. “Vegas feels magical,” he declared, syrup dribbling down his chin. “I can feel my destiny taking shape.”
“Your destiny better involve washing syrup off your shirt,” I muttered, already regretting ordering coffee instead of something stronger. Brenda, meanwhile, was furiously sketching blueprints for the plushie casino on the back of a napkin. Every few minutes, she would mutter something like “plushie blackjack” or “the Hug-A-Slot jackpot” while Juan nodded eagerly.
“Forget Wayne Newton,” Brenda said, pointing her pen at Juan. “We need someone bigger. Someone relevant. Someone who screams ‘Vegas glitz.’”
“Like Elvis?” Juan asked, clutching his Elvis plushie.
“No,” Brenda snapped. “Elvis is dead, Juan. I’m talking about someone who still draws a crowd.”
“Someone like...Britney Spears?” I joked.
Brenda froze, her eyes lighting up like a slot machine hitting the jackpot. “YES! Britney! She’s perfect!”
Before I could argue that Britney Spears was not likely to align her brand with a plushie casino, Brenda was already out of her seat, waving down the waitress for directions to where Britney might be found. “We’re going to make this happen,” she declared. “Today.”
That afternoon, the trio (with me reluctantly in tow) staked out a luxury hotel where Britney was rumored to be staying. Brenda had somehow procured an enormous plushie in the shape of a giant heart, complete with sequins and glitter. She instructed Juan to hold it, reasoning that “no one can resist a giant plush heart.”
As we loitered near the hotel’s entrance, Brenda hissed, “There she is!” Sure enough, Britney Spears stepped out of the lobby, surrounded by bodyguards and flashing cameras. She looked effortlessly glamorous, and Juan immediately started hyperventilating.
“Go!” Brenda whispered, shoving the giant plushie into Juan’s arms. “Offer her the heart and tell her it’s from the Plushie Party!”
Juan stumbled forward, his face as red as the heart he was holding. “Ms. Spears!” he called, his voice cracking. “This is for you!”
Britney paused, tilting her head curiously as Juan shuffled closer, looking like a sweaty, oversized Cupid. Her bodyguards moved to block him, but Britney waved them off, laughing softly. “That’s...really sweet,” she said, taking the plushie. “What’s it for?”
“It’s from me!” Juan blurted. “Well, from us. We’re starting a plushie casino, and we think you’re amazing, and also you’re the Queen of Pop, and—”
Before he could finish, Britney leaned in and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Juan immediately froze, his eyes widening before he crumpled to the ground in a heap.
“Is he okay?” Britney asked, startled.
“Oh, he’s fine,” Brenda said, waving dismissively. “He’s just never been kissed by a woman before.”
“I’m gonna let that one slide,” Britney said with a laugh before walking off with the plushie.
Meanwhile, Juan lay sprawled on the sidewalk, a dopey grin on his face. “Best...day...ever,” he murmured.
Later that evening, Brenda was on fire with plans for the plushie casino. “We’ll dedicate the heart plushie to Britney in the entrance!” she announced as we sat in a cheap hotel room. “It’ll be the centerpiece of the entire operation. ‘Britney’s Plushie Paradise!’ That’s the name! And we’ll have Britney perform at the grand opening. It’s genius!”
Juan, still in a daze, simply nodded. “Anything Britney wants,” he sighed dreamily.
I groaned. “You do realize Britney Spears has no idea who you are and is not going to perform at your weird plushie casino, right?”
Brenda smirked. “Not yet. But just you wait. Vegas loves an underdog, and we’re about to prove everyone wrong. This plushie empire is happening.”
As I sat back, I couldn’t decide whether to laugh or start packing my bags. Something told me that Vegas hadn’t seen the last of the Plushie Party yet.
247sports.com
from me lol
I actually watched her sign off live last night.
