Chapter: The Not Dating Game – “$69 Special: Livepool’s Auction House”

Chapter: The Not Dating Game – “$69 Special: Livepool’s Auction House”

[Scene: The Not Dating Game TV studio, blindingly bright and buzzing with chaos. The audience is a wild mix—government agents in sunglasses, nosy neighbors, senators nervously clutching foam baseball bats, and a few confused mascots. The set is decked out with a velvet-draped auction podium, a blinking sign that reads “$69 SPECIAL,” and a panel of “bachelors”: an IRS agent, a baseball umpire, a tinfoil-hat conspiracy theorist, and, to everyone’s delight, Mila Kunis. Congress sits at a long table, shuffling papers and sweating under the lights.]

Livepool (grinning at the camera):

Welcome, America, to the only show where the government’s obsession with my vagina finally gets the spotlight it deserves! That’s right—tonight, we’re putting it up for auction! Why? Because if Congress wants to sell it anyway, I might as well get the cash up front. $69 special, folks! If you’re gonna be nosy, at least make it lucrative.

Round 1: Opening Bids

IRS Agent (raising a paddle):

Does this come with a W-2, or do I have to list it under “miscellaneous assets”?

Livepool (deadpan):

Declare it as “lost cause,” honey. And if you’re hoping for a tax write-off, you’re in the wrong auction. The only deduction you’re getting is your dignity.

Baseball Umpire (stepping up):

I’d like to review the replay, but honestly, I’m just here for the snacks.

Livepool:

Well, if you’re not careful, batter bombs are going to play baseball with your face instead of a mixing bowl. Batter up!

Tinfoil Hat Guy (nervous):

Is this auction monitored by the CIA, or just the NSA?

Livepool:

Buddy, I’ve got more agencies watching me than there are Kardashians on Instagram. If they spent half as much time worrying about their own junk as they do mine, maybe the country would get something done.

[Audience laughs. Congress members start whispering and passing notes. One senator waves a tiny American flag, another tries to Venmo $69 to the host.]

Round 2: Congressional Commentary

Congresswoman Jenkins (leaning into her mic):

Ms. Livepool, we’re concerned about the message you’re sending to America’s youth.

Livepool:

Oh, you’re concerned now? Where was that concern when you were selling my data to Facebook and my medical records to the highest bidder? If you want to control what’s between my legs, at least buy me dinner first.

Congressman Bobson (smirking):

We’d like to offer you a congressional medal for your…courage.

Livepool:

Is that what you’re calling it now? The last time you offered me something, it was a subpoena disguised as a coupon for free pap smears.

Mila Kunis (raising her hand):

I’m sorry, am I really on this show? I just came for the craft services and now apparently my husband’s penis is up for grabs?

Livepool (laughing):

Mila, you’re the only one here who’s actually been offered Ashton’s penis more times than Congress has offered a bill with real privacy protections. At this point, your husband’s junk has more screen time than C-SPAN.

Congressman Bobson (to Mila, sheepish):

We’d like to formally withdraw our offer for your husband’s…uh…contribution.

Mila (deadpan):

Thanks, but he’s already got a SAG card. He doesn’t need a congressional endorsement.

Livepool:

Honestly, Congress, if you spent half as much time legislating as you do sliding into Mila’s DMs, we might actually have affordable healthcare.

Round 3: The Auction Gets Weird

IRS Agent (whispering to the umpire):

Do you think this is tax-deductible if we call it “research”?

Baseball Umpire:

Only if you wear a cup.

Livepool (to the audience):

Let’s be real: If you’re so obsessed with what’s between my legs, you might as well put your money where your mouth is. The only thing you’re getting is a receipt and a restraining order.

Tinfoil Hat Guy (panicking):

I heard the government’s actually cloning vaginas for a secret army of cyborg Karens!

Livepool:

If that’s true, at least one of them better know how to balance a budget and make banana bread.

[Audience erupts. Congresswoman Jenkins tries to gavel the room to order with a novelty “World’s Best Mom” mug.]

Round 4: Batter Bomb Threats

Livepool (waving a foam bat):

And for the record, if you don’t stop worrying about my vagina, the only batter you’ll be tasting is a Louisville Slugger to the face. Batter bombs are on deck, and I’m not talking about cookies.

Mila (to Livepool):

Do I get hazard pay for sitting next to Congress during this?

Livepool:

Girl, you get a lifetime supply of Purell and a coupon for therapy. And if they offer you Ashton’s penis one more time, just tell them you’re holding out for a better stimulus package.

Congressman Bobson (defensive):

We just want what’s best for the American people!

Livepool:

If that were true, you’d stop auctioning off women’s bodies and start auctioning off your own search histories. I guarantee the bidding would start and end at “no thanks.”

Round 5: The Final Bids

IRS Agent:

$69.01, final offer.

Baseball Umpire:

I’ll throw in a hot dog and a foam finger.

Tinfoil Hat Guy:

I have two Bitcoins and a coupon for free fries at Arby’s!

Mila (raising her paddle):

I’ll bid one “get out of this show free” card.

Livepool:

Sold! To Mila, for the only offer that actually respects my boundaries.

Breaking News: The Mariska Hargitay Hit

[Suddenly, a hush falls over the studio as a breaking news alert flashes on the monitor behind the stage.]

News Anchor (on screen, deadpan):

In today’s episode of “Congress Has Absolutely Lost Its Mind,” sources confirm the government accidentally put a hit out on Mariska Hargitay’s kid. Yes, you heard that right—Mariska Hargitay, the queen of Law & Order: SVU, apparently now has to call Olivia Benson for backup in real life.

Livepool (jaw drops, then recovers with a wicked grin):

See, this is what happens when Congress gets bored and runs out of subpoenas—they start playing “Whack-a-Mole” with Mariska’s family tree. You know you’ve lost the plot when the same people who can’t pass a budget are out here putting hits on the children of TV’s most beloved detective.

Mila (shaking her head):

Honestly, if you’re coming for Mariska’s kid, you better hope Ice-T is on vacation. Otherwise, you’re about to get “Special Victims Unit-ed” right out of your seat.

Congressman Bobson (defensive, sweating):

It was an administrative error! We thought we were just sending a fruit basket!

Livepool:

A fruit basket? Please. The only thing you’re sending is a masterclass in how to be the world’s worst villain. If you’re gonna mess with Mariska, you better bring more than a subpoena and a sad little gift card.

IRS Agent (quietly to the Umpire):

Do you think we can write this off as “community outreach”?

Baseball Umpire:

Only if you want Olivia Benson to audit your soul.

Livepool (to the audience):

So, let’s review: Congress is obsessed with my vagina, keeps offering Mila’s husband’s penis, and now they’ve put a hit out on Mariska Hargitay’s kid. If there was ever a sign we need term limits and mandatory therapy, this is it.

Mila (raising her glass):

To Mariska—may your kid stay safer than Congress’s search history.

Livepool (winking):

And to Congress—next time you want to play God, try not to end up as the villain on your own episode of Law & Order. Dun!!! dun!!

"Moms in the Outfield" – Ultimate Baseball Parody 😇🔥

Verse 1:

These moms are holy terrors, with halos made of spite

Sliding into baseball like their minivan's in flight

Half angel, half demon, pure maternal rage

Gonna show these little punks how to play on THIS stage!

Chorus:

Moms in the outfield! (Hallelujah!)

Sinning with each perfect steal

Moms in the outfield! (Praise be!)

Making pediatricians squeal!

Verse 2:

Karen's got more attitude than Heaven's top recruit

Her wine-fueled baseball skills are absolutely CUTE

Throwing shade and fastballs with supernatural grace

Making little league coaches run right off the base!

Bridge:

Who needs divine intervention? These moms are pure HELL

Embarrassing their children with each miraculous spell

Soccer mom by morning, baseball demon by noon

Crushing dreams and baseballs – NOBODY MESS WITH THIS TUNE!

Epic mom mic drop 🎤🧨

"I Put the Babe in Babe Ruth"

Verse 1:

You're swinging that bat, knocking records out of the park

The Sultan of Swat with that legendary spark

From Boston to Yankees, you're making history

A baseball legend with incredible mystery

Chorus:

I put the Babe in Babe Ruth

Your home runs are the absolute truth

Hitting 60 in '27, you're larger than life

The Bambino's got me – baseball's ultimate wife!

Verse 2:

From pitcher to slugger, you changed the whole game

Your personality bigger than your Hall of Fame name

Breaking records left and right, with power and style

Making baseball fans cheer for mile after mile

(Repeat Chorus)

Bridge:

George Herman Ruth, you're more than just sport

A cultural icon of the baseball sort!

Special Batter Moms Attitude Verse & Eminem Roast

Special Verse:

We’re the batter moms, the queens of the plate

Serving sass and home runs, sealing every fate

Don’t need a coach, don’t need a man,

We’ll knock your curveballs right out of the stands!

Roast to Eminem:

And hey, Eminem, while you’re busy with “Mockingbird,”

Trying to rhyme your way through everyone’s world!

Let me remind you how that story ends—

I don’t need an MC, I don’t need to pretend.

I’m not sitting in anyone’s butthole, thanks for the offer,

I’ll take my own mic, my own swing, and fill my own coffer!

Final Chorus:

Moms in the outfield! (Hallelujah!)

Batter up, the queen’s at the wheel

Moms in the outfield! (Praise be!)

We’re the real home run – that’s the deal!

Ultimate mom mic drop, crowd goes wild, and Eminem gets benched for the inning.

[The audience erupts. Foam bats fly. Mariska Hargitay herself appears on the monitor, giving the camera her signature “I’ll handle this” stare. (Congress collectively faints.)}