Once, years ago I let this gal stay with me for a while as I had an extra room and figured that she wouldn't be much bother. At one time, I even became interested in her, but she didn't feel the same way about me. That always kind of pissed me off, as I think that for a time, I really wanted her. There was something about her, you know what I mean... I guess that you could call her sort of a prick teaser. You know the type... They are just nice enough to you and show you just enough attention to get you interested, and then when you get really hot for them, they come off with this shit about how they just don't feel the same way about you and back off.
Well, it wasn't long after that she moved out, taking her stuff with her. I said fine, good riddance and had the locks changed. But, don't you know that it wasn't long before she broke in and stole some of my stuff, a diamond pinkie ring and whatnot. Well, she didn't really break in. Actually she crawled in through the dog door. I knew it was her as when she moved out, she forgotten a bottle of her favorite perfume in the bathroom cabinet. After the theft, I noticed that it was gone. Besides, all of which, I'd asked around a bit and heard that she had a couple of laughs at my expense.
It wasn't long after that I was watching late night television and came upon an old Dirty Harry movie about some dork that hid out in a sports stadium and tried to make Clint look bad by hiring this dude to beat him up so that he could claim police brutality. My, that black guy really bloodied up that dork. And wouldn't you know that it set me to thinking. The dork had only paid a couple hundred for the dirty work, and I mulled over the possibilities.
Well, I couldn't do anything about that bitch myself as I'd for sure get busted for messing her up. I was too close in her rear view mirror, but still I didn't want to wait around. The cops wouldn't do anything, and I hate being a victim. So, one Saturday night, I went down to see a certain guy I'd met a time or two and made him an offer. I gave him an old Polaroid camera and picture of that cunt and told him that there would be two nice new C-notes waiting for him if he gave me back a slightly altered Polaroid picture of her. I told him that I wanted to see her soundly beaten and her defient little face cut up so she would never again be able to pull her silly shit on any other guy like she did me. Well, I don't know whether he really needed the money or whether he just liked the idea, but just a couple of weeks later, he showed up with the altered picture that I was looking for. My, he did a good job on her. In fact, he did such a good job that I gave him a tip. The months passed by, and then one autumn day I saw that little bitch on the street, and was she ever a mess. I guess the plastic surgeons did all they could for her, but it really wasn't enough. That scar just above her upper lip was really something to see. Thinking fast, I quickly moved out of sight as I didn't want her to see my smirk. In fact, if we would have made eye contact, I'd have busted out laughing-- couldn't have helped myself! Oh well, as I always say... "Nothing feels so good as a scratch upon the hood!"
Leved.
