Chapter 70: Little Vixen
"Of course," Howard and Raj replied with supreme confidence. They were sure that no matter what stunning beauty showed up, they'd be able to keep their cool.
But the moment they turned around and saw who it was…
…it was like someone had grabbed them by the throat.
Their breathing turned into wheezy gasps, and their bodies froze like they'd just been hit with a full-body petrification spell.
"Hey, little fox," Ron greeted the woman behind them with a grin. "I didn't know you went to Hogwarts to study magic. If I'm not mistaken, that move's called Petrificus Totalus, right?"
Standing before them was none other than Megan Fox—who Ron always playfully referred to as "Little Vixen."
The first time they met was purely by chance. Ron had been out on a mission when he spotted Megan stranded roadside with a broken-down car. At first, he didn't recognize her—he just noticed that whoever was leaning under the hood had a waistline that could stop traffic.
But when he caught a glimpse of her face from behind the engine cover, he very nearly reacted the same way Howard and Raj just did—if not worse.
He almost pulled out his phone and dialed the Pentagon.
"Hello? Yes, Pentagon? We've got a Cybertronian on U.S. soil—are you guys gonna handle this or what?!"
Of course, it wasn't a Decepticon charging at her…
It was an old creep with the same leering expression Ron wore earlier, claiming to be some "big-shot director."
That old perv turned out to be none other than Michael Bay.
The rest, as they say, was history. Megan landed her audition for Transformers and secured the lead role—while Ron managed to land a date with her.
(As for the "British tart" Megan once mentioned... well, that's a story for another time.)
"I am not that British skank who was hitting on you," Megan said sharply as she strutted over to Ron and wrapped her arm around his. "Good thing she's back in the U.K., or I'd break her nose."
British skank? From their earlier conversation, there was only one likely candidate:
Emma Watson, aka Hermione Granger from the Harry Potter series.
Ron, are you seriously still claiming you're not some kind of super spy?
What kind of regular dude ends up dating two of Hollywood's biggest goddesses at the same time?
Howard and Raj looked at Ron like they were seeing the gossip jackpot of the decade. The flames of drama burned hotter in their eyes.
"Little Vixen, you know I'm not into underage girls," Ron said solemnly. "That's illegal. And as a proud enforcer of law and order in Los Angeles, I would never break the law."
He sounded righteously indignant.
If Megan hadn't personally caught him kissing that very same "underage girl" once, she might've believed him.
"…Heh." Megan snorted coldly but didn't let go of his arm. In fact, she tightened her grip, practically gluing Ron's entire forearm into a place better left undescribed.
Still, Ron hadn't forgotten his tag-alongs.
"Little Vixen," he said, "any chance you could help my friends get into the party? Maybe snag an Avril Lavigne autograph for them too? Don't get me wrong—they're the fans. You know me."
"No problem," she replied sweetly. "But what do I get in return? Will you take me home to meet your family?"
She licked her lips—not provocatively in Ron's eyes, but more like a seductive predator eyeing her next meal.
To him, she looked less like a starlet and more like a fairy-tale temptress about to eat a monk.
Yup—a bodhisattva, definitely. Beautiful ones are always bodhisattvas.
The ugly ones? Those are the demons.
"Ah, what a shame," Ron said with feigned regret. "My mom just went back to Texas. She was actually in L.A. last week, during your movie promo. Total missed opportunity."
He sighed dramatically on the outside, but inside, he was deeply relieved.
Megan might look like the textbook seductive vixen, but among Hollywood actresses, she was actually one of the rare few who'd kept a relatively clean track record.
In fact, in the original timeline, she didn't even start dating until she was an adult.
Because her family was strict and didn't allow dating at a young age—how's that for a rock-solid excuse?
Actually, in traditional religious households in the U.S., that kind of rule is pretty standard.
After reaching adulthood, it was a different story. But even then, compared to her peers in the industry, Megan was considered low-maintenance. She'd only ever had two relationships and one divorce. That's it.
In this timeline, though, she never met her original husband. Instead, she somehow ended up completely head-over-heels for Ron.
"Alright, come with me."
Megan casually waved to the security guard and led all three of them inside. This was, after all, a wrap party hosted for the Transformers cast and crew—and Megan was the star of the night.
The moment she was out of earshot, Howard leaned in and whispered in awe, "Ron, you are unbelievable. You actually managed to date her! If it were me, I'd frame the moment and worship it every day."
You'd think he was the one dating a celebrity.
"It's really not a big deal," Ron replied. "Believe it or not, we're just friends."
By the time he said it, even he almost believed it himself.
"How can we become like you?" Raj asked eagerly.
"Well," Ron scratched his head, "maybe start by finishing the project I gave you. Then I'll think of a plan for you guys."
How to make a top-tier Hollywood actress fall in love with two nerdy scientists like Raj and Howard? That was a global-level puzzle even Ron couldn't solve right away.
For now, all he could do was string them along and hope fate sent the right girl their way.
He remembered Penny mentioning that the Cheesecake Factory had just hired two new waitresses. Maybe one of them was Bernadette. He'd have to check it out for Howard sometime.
A short while later, Megan returned with the Avril Lavigne autographs they'd asked for.
The cost? Ron had to spend the entire evening as Megan's date, drinking and chatting with a bunch of unfamiliar Hollywood power players.
He smiled so much his face nearly froze.
And if that wasn't bad enough, a couple of shady-looking producers even copped a feel of his butt mid-conversation, talking in voices so flamboyantly gay Ron nearly lost it.
"Ever consider acting? With your looks, you'd be a star," one of them said, hand still way too familiar.
Oh hell no.
Ron barely held back the urge to puke. Instead, he calmly lifted the edge of his blazer to flash his IRS credentials, and said in a friendly tone:
"By the way, have you guys filed your taxes properly this year?"
The two lecherous producers ran off like they'd seen a ghost.
"Pfft—hahaha…"
Megan clung to Ron, laughing so hard she nearly folded in half. If Ron hadn't been holding her up, she might've fallen over.
"Was it that funny?" Ron grumbled. "Next time you have a party like this, please don't invite me. Hollywood is a total circus."
"Hahaha! Just remembering Harvey's face when he saw your badge makes me want to laugh all over again!" Megan teased. "You're pretty charming, Ron. Even Hollywood's infamous Queen of Producers was falling under your spell."
Ron frowned. "Queen? Wasn't that guy a man?"
Megan gave him a sultry glance. "Rumor has it… Harvey prefers to be on the bottom. You know what I mean."
Ron shuddered.
This industry really was way too wild for him.
"Wait—that was the producer who harassed you?" he asked, confused. "But if he's into men, why would you need me to pose as your date?"
"Who said he's only into men?" Megan took a delicate sip of champagne.
"He's bi."