Where's my glass of water, punk?

On the 5th floor of World Star Hotel, Brad Chad, the young, lean and muscular man, robed in his colorful Power Ranger towel stands by his window, looking at the night city view from a luxurous height.

"$80 for a round trip from my hotel and back. And STILL, nobody gives me proper pampering. I just don't get it! I thought America was supposed to be the ideal place to get your ass kissed if you had money. I've got money, right? Sheesh, I got money like ashtrays got cigarette butts. I'm LOADED, baybee!"

*Knockknock*

"Who's that?"

"Excuse me s-sir...."
A short, timid looking, old fart in a butler get-up paces inside, sliding his scuffed loafers against Brad Chad's perfect, carpet floor. The bastard.

"Why are scraping your old, dirty shoes on my floor?"

Poor old man had to look down at his shoes before he can realize that he broke one of Brad Chad's many Houseroom Laws: "TAKE OFF YOUR DAMNED SHOES!"

"I'm sorry, sir, I.."

"-And where's my glass of water, punk!?"

"Uh...I...I forgot sir...see, I was-"

"-AND what did I tell you about those type of excuses!?"

Brad Chad spins around to face his butler, raindbow colored towel flowing and all.

"I don't want to hear anymore 'see, I was...' stories! They're just excuses! Look here...see what I have here?"

One hand on his towel, Brad Chad reaches for a rolled up pile of bills with Benjamin Franklin on top. He looks at it, then eyes his butler with a serious glare.

"You see this? What do I have in my hand?"

Brad Chad shoves the pile of money in his face. The Butler steps back, nervous and clumsy.

"I-i-it's m-money, sir!"

"WHAT IS IT??"

"It's money, SIR!!!"

"Its not money, dammit! How many time I must tell you!? It's CELERY! Now get out of my room!"

Like the nimble breeze, the butler leaves with the door still swinging open. Brad Chad turns back to face his faint reflection in the window. A single digit stums the glass.

"Very soon, the AFW will know the future IS...BRAD CHAD!"

Ah, the wonderful, salty, sea air the abundance of thongs and swimsuits...Baywatch...such a wonderful TV series. This and along with the other 20,000,000 channels on her Super HD Television.

"David Hasselhoff, you and I share alot in common. We're both pretty, rich...irresistable to the finer sex. We both have alot to bear on our shoulders. Beauty is such a cursed gift"

Brad Chad is sitting on his plump, King Size bed. Fit for a king such as he. His only companions are this fine, tall glass of wine, and this Titantron sized TV. Life is gooood! To make things worse, he doesn't even have to wear his robe. Brad Chad is naked and in his natural state.

*knockknock*

"W-what the!? I...uh...w-wait!"

Brad rolls out of bed and scurries for anything to hide his precious treasures with.

"Just a minute!"

With an old 1997 issue of Ballerina Men over his midsection, Brad starts for the door....