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Jenny Myst · (06-22-2018)

.......Continued from God, I'm Such A Bitch

The phone vibrated, seemingly non stop. Every fiber in her being SCREAMED at her to answer it. But the knot in her throat seemed to weigh her down. She couldn't bring herself to click the button to answer it.

Then, as quickly as it began, it stopped. Her breaths were ragged. She thought this was over. Her life was just turning around. She was beginning to become successful in life in something other than stripping and selling her body. She lived in Florida with Chris now, was one of the highest paid and highest rated stars on the XWF roster. Her skeletons were buried so deep in the closet that the homos were jealous.

But here they were, again, smacking her in the face. Unfinished business. The phone lit up, but only rang once. Text Message.

This knot was strangling her now. Megan asked who it was from the other room, but Jenny couldn't speak. Her face was as white as cotton puffs, and her palms were sweating rivers.

Look at it, a voice told her.

Read the text.

Maybe it won't be that bad.

She picked the phone up, and immediately dropped it--her hands were wetter than she anticipated. She felt gross, but she knew it would pass. She bent over and picked up the phone. Swiping it and typing in her password for her lock screen, she pressed the message app button.

It only read two words.

"Nice Ass."

She threw the phone down in disgust.

"Megan, we need to go. Now. Pack a bag."

Megan appeared from the other room. "What is the matter?"

"No time for questions, we need to go, and go now. Pack a light bag, meet me at the back door."

Megan did what she was told, though under protest, and appeared at the back door a few minutes later with just a duffel.

Jenny didn't have a bag at all.

"Come on, lets go."

She ripped the door open and they took off out the back.

As they ran, they heard the engines of cars rapidly approaching, seemingly from all directions. They turned the corner and they were almost taken out by a black Lincoln Town Car. Fully limo tinted.

Jenny recoiled. She almost fell back on her ass. Megan caught her, but dropped her bag in the process. A man calmly stepped out of the driver side, and two more out of the back.

"Hello Jen" he said, that same raspy voice she thought she had forgotten so long ago.

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"That's what I love about these high school girls, man. I keep getting older, they stay the same age."

"Who knew a line about lechery could help make an actor's career? Well, not only did it help Matthew McConaughey in Dazed and Confused but it helped Tommy Wish as well. The loveably creepy Tommy Wish, who gets his rocks off by watching jailbait porn while sniffing around Payless's women's shoe department for used pairs of those thin socks they used when you try shoes on. Tommy Wish is a weirdo, but we have come to accept it. Tommy Wish couldn't get laid in a whorehouse with a fistfull of 50's, and that's okay. Thats his thing. His niche. Funny, Tommy Wish is Dazed and Confused also. He actually thinks he belongs here! What a knee slapper, right? I mean, he said it himself, he probably won't win. Take the probably out of that line sweetheart, and you'll be on the right path. You took me to an extreme place last time, and I swear to god you had a boner last time. The more I hit you, the harder you got. You tortured me in that ring too. We had a hard fought match but in the end, I came out on top. I proved to the world that I can be just as depraived and downright nasty as you can. I like a little pain......pain is weakness leaving the body. I want you to make me scream in that ring. I want you to make me beg, plead, cry, yell, piss and shit myself. I want you to torture me until I am almost dead because it only makes me stronger in the end. Do what you want to me, Tommy, because in the end you will dish out all of that punishment and I will still be standing at the end, battered and bruised, over the top of your limp carcass. I am a glutton for punishment. I'm kinda like Herpes, Tommy. I just keep coming back.

Tommy, you have some deep insecurities. You look like the Fonz went on a meth binge, and it eats you inside. You can't get a woman to pay more than 30 seconds of attention to you---just long enough for her to sprinkle some pennies into your worn out guitar case next to your sleeping dog and Hefty bags full of unwashed clothes---and it kills you. You know you're a nothing. At least you're honest with yourself. A girl like me wouldn't give you a second glance in real life but now I am forced to be in the same building as you, and you love it. When I beat on you, draw blood, you love it. It gives you purpose. Being a pee-on, literally, gives you a purpose in life. Some people excel as winners, some people excel as losers. You, Tommy, excel as a loser. That's okay though, everyone has their niche. Yours is being a total waste of oxygen. Don't fight it, embrace it.

And Mezian.....poor, sad Mezian. The punching bag we all know and love.......well, none of us love. Just the punching bag we know. The man who talks a game bigger than his skill level, and embarrasses himself on national television......every....single.....time......like clockwork. Even being in this match has to have you sweating worse than Mike Tyson at a spelling bee. Chris has warmed you up, now I get to fork through the leftovers.

Yay me.

I don't know what I did to get so lucky. I get to face off against a walking venarial disease and the worlds biggest punching bag. Can a girl get some competition? Da fuck.

But for real. Mezian, I found something for you. Tommy, listen up because you can benefit from this as well, but Mez it is mostly for you.

Mezian, when your career is over with, which the way it is looking now will be sometime in the near future, at least you will have the safety and stability of this. A place to sleep, warm, moist....hey, you could be on the streets! At least here, you can not only have a place to rest your Brillo-Pad you call a head but you can constantly be reminded of where you should have been instead of wasting your time trying to wrestle. Think of this as a favor. I helped you out. Who else woulda done this for you? Mmmmm? Can you name one? I can't. I care, Mez. I care enough to give you some shelter for when your time comes. Consider it an early retirement gift.....one your mother should have given you long ago.

Now that we have that hashed out.......we can all get back to our lives. I can go back to being perfect, and you two can go back to walking reminders of why the human race is fading quicker dollar store light bulbs.

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