Guys, this is for those of you who have girlfriends.
Oh, shut up.
Yes, yes — girlfriends.
Crowds of girls.
All fighting over the Alpha’s dick like it’s the last one on Earth.
Yeah, yeah.
Done laughing?
Shameless, aren’t you?
Moving on.
Alright, here’s how I see it.
We need to put together a little compilation.
Motorcycle racing, boxing, MMA, taekwondo, car racing —
and just a selection of drunk guys getting into fights, with or without a reason.
Who cares.
The point is, there’s a fight.
We show her all of that.
She makes a face.
Like, “So?”
Yeah, yeah, guys, I know.
Unbelievable. What a bitch.
We tried, right?
And she’s standing there making that face.
It’s not like we go around telling her her manicure looks like shit
or that we know she has a mustache.
Fiiiiine.
We’ll try to rise above this mere mortal.
So.
She watches the compilation.
Same bitch face.
Right.
So we explain to her that those guys in the videos are like that
because nobody’s squeezing their balls.
She makes a face again.
We start whacking her with a pillow —
damn it, bitch, we’re trying here.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Everybody breathe.
Everything’s fine.
We’re trying not to hit anyone.
So.
We explain to her that if she wants the Alpha to stay an Alpha,
she has to stop smothering him.
She starts yelling:
“Oh, so now I’m the bad one?!”
We grab our heads and start wondering
how pigeons manage to poop while flying.
Do they control it somehow?
Or does it just… happen?
She’s furious.
“Hey! Are you even listening to me?”
We realize we’re not welcome in this family.
We’re not appreciated here.
We start packing our suitcases…
Alright, alright.
Seriously now — we wait until she calms down.
I tie down the Alpha’s right hand.
Me, the director, the monkeys from the movie, even security —
everybody’s holding the Alpha down.
Under no circumstances do you touch the bridge of your nose.
No, Alpha.
You do not touch the bridge of your nose.
In her language that means:
“I’m so sick of you.”
And then we’re dead.
Guys, don’t do that.
Under no circumstances.
Do not touch the bridge of your nose.
And that face like
“I’m listening, I’m listening…”
— we don’t want that either.
She’ll recognize it.
And then we’re dead too.
Feet apart. Wider.
Elbows on the knees.
Eyes on the floor.
We sit there thinking.
Is shoe size actually related to dick size?
If you shake a Coke hard enough, will it definitely explode?
Did I wash the car or is it already dirty again?
Then we resurface.
She’s exhausted.
She’s in tears.
Guess who’s the asshole again?!
Damn, I feel sorry for you guys.
The Alpha looks at me suspiciously.
I set my drink aside.
What?
I have compassion too.
Alright.
Back to business.
We have to do something about this, guys. I’m serious.
This constant mind-fucking is complete bullshit.
And damn, if it were at least about something important…
but we were just trying to talk and suddenly all this shit starts pouring out.
It doesn’t sound great, but we’re going to have to play dirty.
When she comes back to herself,
we prepare the ground.
And don’t tell me you can’t.
You guys wipe your asses with money.
So come on, Alpha.
Get the wallet ready.
Yes.
Consider it an investment.
Hey, hey, hey.
Do not rub the bridge of your nose.
Throw the woman over your shoulder
and take her to a store.
Let her buy whatever she wants.
Then a restaurant.
The whole time the Alpha is switched on.
He’s not on his phone.
He understands those are different dresses.
Yes, he understands that it matters.
Sure, the Alpha takes a little sip from his flask while she’s not looking,
but that’s just… support.
What are we supposed to do, collapse here?
Alright.
She finally bought everything.
Phew.
“Beautiful?”
“Oh, very, very, very beautiful, woman.”
Eyes full of love.
Guys, we’re caught between two blades here.
If the Alpha gives some squeezed-out, fake reaction — we’re dead.
Everything.
Everything.
Everything we’ve been preparing for so long will go straight to hell.
Come on, Alpha, pull yourself together.
Like that time when the guys said we couldn’t down three shots in a row.
Screw them.
We’ll drink five.
Bring the shots.
It’s just a game, man.
You can do it.

Key:
The selfish, low, dirty benefit for the Alpha:
If we don’t genuinely show her how beautiful she looks and how good it looks on her, she’ll give up.
Because she doesn’t want to look beautiful just for the sake of it — she wants to look beautiful for the Alpha.
If the Alpha doesn’t notice, she’ll decide he doesn’t care.
And guess how fast the hoodies, sweatpants, and all that shapeless crap will come back —
the kind where you can’t even tell where the ass is anymore.
So smile and wave, guys. No choice.
And of course, we sip from the flask.
Key.
If she’s clearly calmed down and starts glowing again,
we seduce her.
What?
Don’t look at me like that.
What are you, monks now?!
Alright.
Let’s go seduce her.
While she’s trying things on, we casually step in behind her.
A soft kiss—
Damn.
No, no.
First — the promo.
Guys, hold it.
Guys, stop.
Director.
Camera.
Lights.
Quick touch to fix the Alpha’s hair.
Alright.
Perfect.
Let’s go.
Hand on the wall.
Block the exit.
Everything in her lights up instantly.
The Alpha raises an eyebrow.
Fans are fainting.
Girls… come on now.
You still haven’t gotten used to him?
Yes, yes, I know — he’s impressive.
But he’s taken. He has a wife.
Go cry somewhere else.
I shake my head.
The Alpha is back in character.
Perfect.
Let’s go.
His arm blocks her way.
The Alpha looks into the camera.
A couple of shots.
For God’s sake, pull the fans away.
Not now, girls.
He’s busy.
The director and I exchange a glance.
God… there’s no escape from this.
The woman starts to blush.
What, woman — scared?!
Yes, the Alpha is dangerous.
You haven’t even seen him at work yet.
The Alpha moves closer to her.
His scent.
A little alcohol.
His arrogance and open boldness.
It starts to intoxicate her.
Her head begins to spin.
The Alpha leans closer to her neck.
To her ear.
But he doesn’t touch her.
Good Lord…
I grab the Alpha by the collar and pull him back.
Hey, man, what are you doing?!
Slow down.
Alright, the Alpha is back in formation.
Scene one. Take two.
Let’s go.
The Alpha breathes against her neck.
She feels like he’s about to touch her.
But he doesn’t.
Let her wait a little.
The power is with the Alpha.
What, woman — no more screaming?
No more hysterics?
Go ahead, try it.
Then the Alpha and his dick will leave.
Let’s see how you howl then.
The Alpha has patience to spare, he—
Hey, I said patience to spare!
Alright.
Now we touch her.
Carefully place a palm on her waist.
She’ll start arching like that… damn.
And then squeeze firmly.
She’ll gasp.
The Alpha covers her mouth with his hand.
Is anyone counting how many times she’s already come?
What, nobody?
Damn.
Then why did we even try so hard?
Alright.
So.
Moving on.
He kisses her behind the ear.
The neck.
His hands slide into her hair.
The woman is already completely ready.
What happens next is the Alpha’s decision.
Honestly.
He can guide her toward a blowjob.
Or just go straight to sex.
That’s up to the Alpha.
Moving on.
What?
No point getting offended.
You can do both anyway,
why should I spell out the rest?
Alpha, make those puppy eyes.
Oh God… alright.
If it’s a blowjob —
I’m voting for that option.
Although wait — I vote for both.
Blowjob and sex.
We kiss her.
She’s already completely intoxicated.
And gently guide her down,
pulling the pants down.
Quietly, carefully,
we whisper that we’d like her to take him in her mouth.
As for how long — I don’t know, guys.
If she likes blowjobs,
we might even finish.
But if she wants sex,
then probably not for long.
Whatever.
Either way, getting both
is an excellent deal.
So.
Then she stands up.
We kiss her.
Again.
And again.
Turn her around.
And let’s go.
Here the Alpha has to let the beast out.
I’m serious.
We need to push her a little.
Damn, stop looking at me like that.
Yes, we use her weakness a little —
but damn it, it’s for her.
She’ll thank us later.
So we push her just a bit.
The Alpha goes into asshole mode.
Great.
Let’s hope she’s pleasantly tired.
The Alpha takes all her bags, the weight,
God knows what else.
But the main thing is that the sex must not look like a quick hookup.
She has to know the Alpha didn’t just use her.
That he showed love.
Yes, yes.
Go ahead, laugh, you bastards.

Alright.
Restaurant.
Here everything depends on the Alpha.
According to our scenario,
we should let the beast out here too.
In the end she’s relaxed.
A little drunk.
And we try again.
“My dear… I wanted to talk to you.”
We whisper everything in her ear.
Let her keep getting drunk.
No direct talk.
Damn, we’re not at work.
No, Alpha.
Let’s hit the weak spot.
Romance.
Perfect.
We whisper in her ear
and bite lightly.
She forgets how to breathe.
In the end
she agrees.
And we tell her that if she wants the beast
and wants the Alpha to stay an Alpha,
then she’ll have to give in sometimes.
He loves her.
Truly.
But how can he be a man
if she throws hysterics about everything?
But what we tell her is this:
“How can I be an Alpha
if my strength keeps getting crushed?”
Yes, yes — play the victim, Alpha.
And don’t tell me you don’t like this.
The Alpha swims in manipulation like a fish in water.
So we tell her:
“My dear, maybe you should take some magnesium or something like that.”
She explodes.
Says he’s a complete bastard.
We snap back:
“Wait.”
“I’m trying to explain.”
She doesn’t listen.
We’re furious.
We start smashing everything around us.
“Damn hysterical woman.”
“I’m trying.
And it’s still not enough for you.”
Easy, easy…
No, no, that’s not how we do it.
We don’t do it like that.
We show her.
We say, look —
I’m an Alpha.
You’re happy, you like it, right?
She’s glowing.
After all, he really is that kind of Alpha.
Nice.
Then we tell her
that it would be great if he were always like this, right?
She nods.
Excellent.
And we tell her that we want to be like this,
but it’s difficult when we’re constantly dealing with hysterics and scandals.
There are two options here.
If she’s not completely at her limit yet — mentally —
then she’ll nod, because it’s logical.
But if she’s in a full meltdown —
and I’m serious — if she throws hysterics that often,
that means she’s already on the edge of nervous exhaustion.
It didn’t start yesterday.
She’s been nervous for a long time.
Then—
Click.
The telescopic baton comes out.
The scene with the crabs.
Let’s take a look at the sea creatures
while I brutally beat the Alpha up.
How the hell did it happen
that I’ve been guiding you for months
and you still haven’t become husband of the year?
The Alpha cries.
I keep hitting him.
And so on.
Ahem.
Alright, back to the story.
The Alpha, off camera, asks the director
to cut that part out.
I pull out the baton again.
The Alpha seems to have changed his mind.
Excellent.
Guys, it’s not good if she’s nervous and twitchy.
That’s not good.
Fix this situation, Alpha.
Someone needs to influence her —
I don’t know, maybe through her mother or someone else —
but someone needs to get her to go get an IV drip.
If her nervous system is completely wrecked,
even sex won’t fix the situation, guys.
Yes.
I’m shocked myself.
That’s the extreme stage.
Even sex doesn’t help anymore.
I’m shocked too.
What, are you jerking off?
Again?
Good Lord, you insatiable bastards.
Alright, alright.
I don’t mind.
So that’s how we handle the nervous system problem.
Once that’s handled, then you can talk to a woman.
Generally, if she doesn’t actually have a vitamin deficiency,
then everything should come back to normal pretty quickly.
The Alpha changes.
She’s not nervous.
Everything seems fine.
Who wants a shot?
What?
Not drinking tonight?
Damn, you guys are such buzzkills.
Hades, Mushu — get over here.