Guy In A Top Hat Novels & Stories

"He's a man, if he cries, then he's a sissy." A loud crash sounded and Arc caught Eddie nearly fall off his seat. All of their attention pointed to the opening that was at the end of the cluster of shelves. A man in a colourful Hawaiian shirt and green shorts, appeared, a pink hat covering his hair. He strutted towards them, wearing a huge smile on his face and huge flip flops that showed off his beautiful manicured feet. When he got closer to them, Arc observed that the man was very young, surprisingly balancing a tray of cookies in one hand and a tray of several glasses of what was supposed to be milk in another.

His face was perfectly defined and his hair so full it almost breached his forehead. He cocked his head to the side with a smile hinting on his face. "No, I'm known as the magic man but you, my dear chap, can refer to me as Mr. Top Hat." He replied, an unfamiliar accent breaching thickly in his voice. I would have laughed if I could but all I could do was lightly scowl at his words, and clutch my chest harder. "S–s–" I stopped to take in a breath when the pain spasmed further in me, and the air suddenly became thick. "Seriously? Y–you don't even have a hat," I responded in a mere whisper.

As we got to the center of the main hall, the Hatter turned swiftly and for the first time I saw his face in full view. His skin was pale, his jaws sharp and contoured. His eyes glowed a glassy blue and the color surrounding his eyes was dark, as though he had been under immense stress, which he had. His head was fully raised and he adjusted his hat so it did not cover so much of his face any more. His lips were a deep red and he wore a ruffled top under the suit, like the medieval English fashion but with a Hatter twist. “Let me introduce you to my friends!” he said, his voice more confident and almost cheerful now, he let out a brief smile and called out to his pals, “Come down now, don't

Guiseppe gulped in nervousness when Blair held his hand tightly. A man, dressed in a white linen shirt and black slacks, wearing suspenders and a black hat on his head, his face stern and a two-day white stubble on his chin showed how exhausted he was. The man itself was a debauchee, a thick brown coloured cigar pipe in his mouth as he released the smoke out of it. He removed the shades in a way only rich people does. Next to him, were two ladies, dressed in mini dresses, wide necks and face full of makeup.

The hat man and calm lady move aside to let the maroon suited man stand in front of me. Dense and weird. His aura is so different. I have never felt anything like this. The waves emanating through his personality are strong. It makes my head throb. Concentrate! I snap back to reality and find a pair of black eyes hiding under rimmed specs observing me. "Who are they?" He asks. "We don't know, Sir. This girl here is saying that they are new year students." The man wearing a hat speaks up as if trying to impress his boss.

' "Is this hat yours, my lady?" "Y-yes. Yes, that is mine." Instead of simply passing the object to her palm, the guy placed it on Aileen's head. "T-thank you." "No big deal, my lady. Are you heading inside?" The guy asked, wearing a sweet smile on his face. Aileen thought at the time; it would be no good if she would see him in the future. He reminds her of someone with a sly smile from her showbiz industry. Moreover, she doesn't know who to trust in this strange world.

I know requiring actors to strip is quite common for performers, even if I wish that wasn’t a reality. As the last button is undone, the man in the hat made a short hum of thought before saying dismissively, “that’ll do. Thank you.” I didn’t even get to take the shirt all the way off. That… was a distinctly bad sign. Did he sense how nervous I felt? Or could see without me going fully topless that my form wasn’t what he was looking for? I could feel my cheeks burn all the more as I re-buttoned up my shirt.

Before taking a seat inside, he smiled at them. When Hunter noticed him wearing his hat, he asked, "Why are you wearing a hat? Are you going somewhere?" Dominus gazed up into the sky, shaking his head. "I am sorry and I took it," he said, "I came out of the bathroom and noticed this, and I just wanted to see if it looked nice on me." Surprisingly, the others had to forget about what he had just done and why he was rushing earlier. Hunter answered, "Sure, you look like an actor."

"Suit yourself, honey," the clown said with a sigh as she sat down on her chair again. Just then, the doors to the truck opened once more, and in came a man who looked to be in his early 50's, wearing a hematite robe with a sheen to it, white leather gloves, a bowtie and a top hat. There were white ruffles on his shirt and a creepy looking white mask covered half of his face. His voice was deep and harsh when he spoke, but also strangely smooth, like an actor trying to play a role - even when he was away from the stage.

It’s my mysterious anonymous unlisted friend. The message contains a series of images, all of them showing Atlas and Sydney at some weird rodeo lunch. He is wearing a white cowboy hat, a large belt buckle, and something I’ve never seen on him before–blue jeans. In all the years I’ve known him I have never seen him in anything other than a suit. He’s also wearing a huge smile as he looks down at Sydney who looks up at him like she is staring up into the face of a god. It figures. I leave him and he learns how to have a good time.