RR Lori Warren - Chapter 48

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Reduction & Relocation: Lori Warren

Chapter 48 - Punching Down

January 28th, 2006

“So I told him if I wanted to be ignored by someone I love, I’d have called my mother!” 

Laughter rippled through the packed theater as the blonde comedian on stage beamed, soaking in the good vibes of the crowd.  She continued, guiding them through the throes of her tumultuous love life, all with a chipper smile on her face.  

“...and then he was like ‘Angela, did you really need to take the couch cushions into the pool?’”

Lori chuckled along, inadvertently giving Michael a gentle squeeze from his perch nestled in her hand.  Nothing too tight–in fact, Michael squeezed back, and the two felt the bonded connection over the laughter. 

Michael had never heard of this comedian before, which wasn’t an uncommon thing with opening acts.  However, he could see why Angela had been chosen to be an opener.  She had a very similar style and adorable raunchiness to–

“--Ya’ll have been great tonight!  Give us a few minutes while the girl you all came here to see gets ready!”

The crowd clapped as the young comedian made a joyful curtsy and skipped off the stage. Without someone to bathe in the stage lights, the applause gradually decayed into a gentle humming and buzzing.  Some talked about the opener.  Some called home to check on the babysitter.  And some took a moment to appreciate the surreality of the moment, and appreciate their company. Lori and Michael were two such people. 

Michael felt his soft platform rising from Lori’s denim-clad lap and up toward her smiling lips.  “This is exactly what we needed.  A night to laugh and just…forget everything else.”  

“I know. This is so great, Lori.” Michael beamed.  “And look how close we are!  I can’t believe you actually got us in the front row!”

Lori dipped an index finger into her bottle of Heineken and swished it around the tight neck “Well, I figured we might need it so that you could see!”. The bottleneck let out a pop as her finger plucked out and Lori brought a bubbling droplet to Michael’s face.  The fizz tickled his nostrils and assaulted his taste buds–but in the best way possible.  

“No stress, no experiments.  Just us.”

Michael gazed up at her and nodded, beyond grateful to be sharing this moment with her.  

“God, I can’t get over how cute you look all dressed up.” Lori said.

Michael grinned, looking down and playing sheepishly with the fabric between his fingers.  It wasn’t exactly silk or smooth cotton, but it looked nice from a distance.  

“Yeah well, I didn’t realize they made polo shirts and slacks this small…I think some shoes would have really completed the look though.”

“I’ll see what we can find at the toy store. But you should be grateful that Gina not only saved her dolls but that she actually had any clothes at all for her boys. Every cent of her allowance went to shoes for her girls.” Lori teased, bringing another bubbly droplet of sweet, hoppy alcohol to Michael’s face.  God, it tasted so good.

 “So tell me…why Sarah Silverman?”

Michael chuckled, “She’s just really special, that’s all.  First time I saw her was in There’s Something About Mary.  Did you see that?”

“I remember seeing the previews.  One of the girls wanted to see it.  Didn’t seem like my kind of movie.”

Suddenly the house lights dimmed. A murmur of excitement bubbled beneath the surface as a knowing hush overcame the crowd.  Michael’s heart skipped a beat as Lori returned Michael to her lap.

“And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for…please welcome to the stage…SARAH….SILVERMAN!”

The applause was thunderous. Like a tidal wave of sound rolling through the large space.

Michael flinched, literally having to hold his ears as the crowd erupted. From his vantage point on Lori’s lap, Michael could actually see her:  Sarah SIlverman strutting out from behind the maroon curtain. Her entrance was bold, as she was, and her body language confident.  She wore a sleek, black leather jacket over a simple white tee and some skinny jeans. So crazy–she looked just like a normal person, and yet she was basking in the roaring applause from hundreds of strangers. Her stride to the microphone stand was casual, and yet there was something magnetic about the way she commanded the attention and praise of every person in that room.

Sarah’s lips curled into a knowing smirk as she took in the adoration of the crowd, pausing mid-step to take a long and exaggerated bow.  The way her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulder when she straightened up…god, it was mesmerizing to little Michael.  She hadn’t even said a word yet and the crowd was already eating out of the palm of her hand.

It took less than five minutes of Sarah’s routine for Michael to notice the stark differences between her and her opener.  Alissa (was that the opener’s name?) had been good, make no mistake, but Sarah was just operating on a different level entirely.  Her act was so refined and rehearsed, and yet she appeared fluid and comfortable on the stage.  It was as if the microphone stand was an extension of herself. That comedic timing! That cute edginess! And it went without saying that Michael had always considered her wildly attractive.  

As he’d started to explain to Lori, Michael first become aware of Sarah Silverman back in his formative years, during her short scene in the 1998 movie There’s Something About Mary (“fun” fact: it was also the last movie Michael happened to watch on cable TV before his final visit to RR Labs) and it was practically love at first sight. 

And now here he was, finally staring up at her on stage. He found himself wishing he’d have made time for this prior to his reduction, but better late than never.  It was all thanks to the grace of Lori.  She could so easily have decided not to let him go after everything that had happened.

Sarah paced through her prepared routine, putting the crowd in stitches with laughter. The humor was blue, and even characteristically raunchy at times.  And much to Michael’s delight, he could feel Lori’s thighs jiggling along with her soft belly at his back as she laughed along.  Wow, how wonderful it was that she could let loose and enjoy the show with him!  She probably never would have been so relaxed about this humor in front of her precious daughters. 

Michael fell further under Sarah’s spell, entranced and appreciating her adorable confidence.  She’d always been a boundary-pusher.  Never steered away from taboo subjects and social issues with that quick wit.  And now, as Sarah occasionally brushed her fingers through her hair, brushing it off the glimmering leather jacket, Michael felt intoxicated by her charisma. Despite his appreciation for her comedy, Michael hadn’t seen much of her live standup aside from what was in her special ‘Jesus is Magic’. So unbeknownst to him, there was an aspect of Sarah’s live performances that Michael was not as familiar with: her crowd work.  

“So how’s everyone doing tonight?” The PA speakers crackled as Sarah removed the microphone from the stand, freeing herself to walk about the stage untethered and unleashed.  Michael watched her pretty brown eyes scan the crowd, and then something of interest clearly caught her eye.  

It was him, of course.  She was looking right at him. 

She pointed toward the crowd, where Michael and Lori were sitting.

"Hold on a second, I’ve gotta ask—what’s…uhhhh…what’s going on here?"

Fabric rustled, sound like waves in the ocean as dozens turned and leaned forward in their seats to see who Sarah was talking to. Michael felt warm blood rushing to his cheeks, not quite sure how to handle all of this attention on him.

“Oh you know, just a fun night out.” Lori said simply.

Sarah’s smirk deepend, her brown eyes gleaming with mischief. “What are your names?” she asked.

Lori responded first, but when Michael tried shouting his, it came out as a pathetic squeak barely audible above the hum of the crowd.

Sarah’s thick, dark eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. “Come again?” Sarah said, flipping her thick black hair away and cupping her ear as she leaned forward theatrically.  “You’re gonna have to use your big boy voice.”

The crowd let out a collective laugh and Michael felt his face burn.

“C’mon!  You can probably do better than that!” Sarah coaxed, wagging a finger at him. “Gimme your biggest big boy voice!”

Michael’s mouth went dry, and before he could attempt another pitiful reply, Lori stepped in. “His name’s Michael.” She had mercifully absolved him of the responsibility of communication with Sarah, but she was now mercilessly raising her platform of a palm up so that the comedian could get a better look at him.

Sarah leaned in closer, close enough now for Michael to see the sharpness in her gaze, and the little creases at the corner of her curious eyes. “What happened, little buddy? Didn’t drink your milk growing up?”

More laughter at Michael’s expense. And a sheepish, proud grin from Sarah.  He could see into her mind through her beautiful eyes.  She was trying to figure him out, that comedian-mind searching and scanning.  Prying and deconstructing. He could practically see the jokes formulating and taking shape behind those brown eyes.  She was going to get her laughs, and they were going to come at his expense.

Michael looked over his shoulder at Lori, who was radiant with pride.  “This is sort of new for him.”

“New for him, huh?  Well, I gotta say…it's new for me too. Are there more of him around here?”  Sarah lifted her left foot, peeking under her sneaker and inspecting the tread.  “Come to think of it, I thought I felt a lump in the couch back in the green room.” She turned around and thumbed at the denim stretched over her large ass.  “See anything, Mikey?” 

Another round of laughter.

“I’m sure he’s the only one here tonight.” Lori said with a laugh. 

“Well that’s probably for the best,” Sarah said. “I hope you all checked your seats before sitting down though; you never know!” More laughter–was it enough for her?  Couldn’t she move on?

Sarah reapproached the edge of the stage and squatted down, bringing herself closer to Lori’s raised palm and Michael cowered in response.  “God, he’s so small, isn’t he? I gotta figure his whole life is just trying not to get squished.”

Sarah reached out and nudged Michael with her index finger.  Michael looked over his shoulder, as if to say ‘Mind telling her to stop??’, but Lori was loving the attention.

"So you, then.” Sarah said, turning her attention to Lori. “You look pretty happy about this situation. Are you, like, his caretaker? His, uh, ‘handler’? What’s your deal?"

Lori chuckled. “Oh, Michael’s my…well…let’s say he’s my ‘responsibility’. We’re part of a special experiment.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow. 

"Special experiment? Oh boy…We’re all thinking the same thing, right?” Sarah asked the audience.  “I mean, we gotta be.”

She then plunged a finger in and out of a ring she’d created with her left hand’s thumb and pointer finger.  “Wait…actually, probably more like this.” Much to Michael’s humiliation, Sarah positioned her ‘okay sign’ over top of Lori’s palm and passed Michael in and out of it–and the crowd absolutely lost it. 

“Am I right, Lori?”

Michael was mortified as the crowd laughed at him, but he couldn’t deny how surreal it was to have Sarah Silverman’s hand wrapping around his naked body.

Lori didn’t explicitly confirm, thank god.  But she didn’t deny either.  In fact, with the way she was blushing, she may as well have said everything.

“Michael and I have a wonderful working relationship.  He lives his life as a shrunken little man and I keep him safe, full time.”

“Fair enough, fair enough,” Sarah said.  “Where are you living while your mommy is at work, Mikey?  My niece might be getting rid of her gerbil cage if you’re looking to upgrade.”  The crowd howled as Michael blushed.  Sarah continued, feigning a condescendingly shocked expression.  “Oh! And you know what? I think she even has some of those transparent colored tunnels, too!”

“That won’t be necessary.” Lori said with a laugh.  “He…well…he stays with me full-time.  He lives in…let’s just call it a special spot.”

Sarah’s eyes widened as the audience started to murmur. Sensing the tension, Sarah tossed her legs forward and dangled her feet off the stage. She was now sitting on the edge, close enough that Michael could smell her perfume.

"Okay, Lori, now you’ve really got my attention. Special spot? I think the whole crowd is dying to know—what kind of spot are we talking about here?

“Oh god, please don’t say it, Lori.” Michael pleaded.  He spoke in his normal voice, barely audible to Sarah, but Lori heard him. He knew, because she mouthed the words ‘sorry’.  She didn’t look sorry though…

Lori sprouted a mischievous grin. “He actually lives… in my bottom.”

The crowd gasped, then burst into laughter. Some even cheered and Sarah dramatically leaned back and craned her neck, acting as if her mind had just been blown.

"Wait, WHAT? Hold the phone—you’re telling me this little fella lives in your butt?! Like, literally? Between your butt cheeks?” 

“Mikey, is this true?” Sarah asked.  

What was Michael going to do? Lie to Sarah Silveran? Right in front of Lori?  

His silence was enough verification and Sarah’s smile grew even larger. “Awwww….Mikey, you little butt goblin.  There’s a sentence I never thought I’d say!”

Sarah took a moment to bask in the laughter of the crowd before continuing her interview.  “So, when you say he lives there…you mean–”

Much to Michael’s humiliation, Lori was eager to answer the comedian’s probing questions. “--I mean It’s his home…so that’s where he spends most of his time!”

The crowd was losing it now, cheering and howling with laughter while Sarah stood back up to pace around the stage, hands on her head like she’s trying to process it. Lori was laughing too, clearly proud of her reveal and the attention, but Michael was trying to grapple with the college-aged girls sitting next to Lori that had taken out their flip phones to snap pictures of him.

"Okay, this is a whole new level of intimacy to say the super-duper least. I mean, most people just cohabitate in an apartment, maybe a one-bedroom, but not Michael.  Little Mikey here is living it up in a two-buttock condo!"

The audience erupted again, and Sarah played it up. "So, how does it work, Mikey? You just crawl in there at the end of the day like, ‘Honey, I’m home!’ Or do you need an invitation? Like, ‘Excuse me, Lori, can I go back to the Butt Suite now?’"

The laughter was deafening, and Sarah grinned as she saw Lori cupping her cackling face but Michael, however, was shrinking further into his seat—well, Lori’s hand—clearly humiliated. 

The night had already spiraled into one of the most humiliating experiences of his life (and that was certainly something coming from Michael!). Sarah Silverman’s jokes hit harder than any physical blow, chipping away at his already fragile sense of self-worth. He looked up at her, starstruck yet utterly crushed by her biting humor. The crowd roared with laughter, and Lori—his giant, smothering captor—laughed along too, beaming with pride. The room vibrated with noise, and all Michael could do was sit helplessly in Lori’s lap, wishing the ground would swallow him whole.

“Y’know, granted I only started even thinking about it like two and a half minutes ago…” Sarah started, barely containing a mischievous smirk, “but I’ve never really understood what it’d feel like to have a guy living back there. Between the cheeks, y’know? I’ve found lint from my panties in there, a little bit of hair after a shower…you know, the usual stuff.  But never a walking, talking man.  I’m not the only girl here that’s fascinated by this, right?”

The feminine roar of agreement had Michael wishing stronger than ever that he was back in teh safety of Lori’s asscrack.

“I mean, I get it, Lori. You look like you’re doing him a favor with those cushions.” The audience erupted in more laughter. “But what’s it like? You just shove him back there and go about your day?”

Lori leaned forward in her seat, her eyes glinting with pride. Someone handling the stage work had taken it upon themselves to actually direct a second spotlight onto Lori and Michael. "It really is that simple!" Lori said. "The softness of my bottom completely cushions and surrounds him.”

“Swaddled in butt cheek meat.  Every guy’s dream, probably.”

“I don’t know about that, but I know that Michael just loves it! My bottom keeps him safe, keeps him warm.  There’s really no better place for him; it’s a win for everybody.”

As much as Michael wanted to die from embarrassment, he was at least grateful Lori didn’t mention that in addition to providing shelter and warmth, her bottom also fed him.  She probably only left that detail out to save herself from embarrassment.

“God, I just couldn’t imagine loving to live between a set of big ol’, bubbly butt cheeks.”  The way her lips popped with every ‘buh’ sound…it had permanently engraved itself into a corner of Michael’s traumatized mind. “He must live in fear of Taco Tuesday, I bet.  Is that his version of a natural disaster?”

The crowd was at the point of hysterics as Lori shamelessly answered Sarah’s burning questions. “You know, that’s an inevitable part of our arrangement.  It was a challenge at first but Michael’s gotten much better with…that.”

For the first time, Sarah Silverman herself exploded in jovial laughter. “If that’s not the worst job on the planet, I don’t know what is!  Imagine explaining on LinkedIn: ‘Current occupation? Fart cushion!”  I’ll bet he absorbs the smell.  Lori, tell me he absorbs the smell.”

Lori spoke up amongst the eerie quietness of the venue. “Truth be told, he actually does absorb a lot of it.”

Lori was getting even bigger laughs than Sarah now!  

“Oh my goodness.” Sarah laughed.  “Mikey, you’re a literal fart sponge!”

“Awww, I think he’s getting a little embarrassed.” Lori said, but it wasn’t in a tone that would encourage Sarah to stop.  Quite the opposite. Why was she doing this?  Why was Lori humiliating him in front of all these people?

“Lori, I’ll be honest with you, girlfriend.” Sarah said, leaning back with a wide grin and crossing her arms over her chest.  “You might be the biggest rockstar I’ve ever met, like in my entire life. Really puts body positivity and feminism in a whole new light.” She tilted her head dramatically and dropped her voice into a sassy rhythm.

“I don’t need no man to make me happy.  Matter-a-fact, my man needs me.”

Her hand came up, ready to punctuate her next words.

“He lives.”

Snap.

“In mah”

Snap.

“Boot-ayyy”

Snap.

Could it have gotten any worse than this?

What Lori said next had Michael wanting to jump off her lap and take his chances with the dirty, sticky floor. 

“Do you want to try him out?”

Yes, it could ALWAYS get worse…

~