Before you or Joe could even reach a decision, D.J. and Kurai, The Ragin’ Asians bolt down the runway. D.J. is a skinny raver chick, with shoulder-length black-hair with green streaks. She wears sneakers, jean shorts and a sleeveless shirt that exposes her belly. Kurai wears a ninja mask and cloth thong, but constantly topless. “No one knows her face, but everyone knows her tits.” She has black hair down to her lower back. They’re a lively pair of Asians in their twenties who love to make a scene and stir things up, even if they’re generally good girls.
Both girls burst energetically into the ring, D.J. grabbing La Maestra’s whip hand and wrapping an arm around her neck, holding her back. Kurai dove in and kneed Sanchez in the back, bringing him to his knees holding his spine.
“What the hell!?” gasped Mama Tatas as she looked up to see what was going on. Paul was still in her rack and fading fast. “What’s your problem, putas?!”
“How about ‘for the hell of it?” D.J. grins. |