One woman's startling story will change how you look at men forever! Today, Fussy Von Fusspot is going to school, and getting her life back. But it almost never happened... because Fussy, 33, ran into a smooth-talking doctor who removed half of her brain as part of a ritual!
Fussy Von Fusspot, 33, was an exotic dancer at a local club called Shakey's. She worked hard to support herself and keep her Persian cat, Mr. Whiskers, in Friskies.
Then one night, she met Bret** a handsome doctor, who was new in town.
Bret was charmed by the beautiful exotic dancer with rainbow-colored pigtails, and soon, Fussy and Bret were inseparable. He bought her diamonds, all the Wonderbras and feather boas (from real emu raised in Australia!) Fussy could desire. And Mr. Whiskers dined on caviar any time he wished.
Then Bret began acting strangely, asking Fussy to lay perfectly still in his walk-in freezer, bought, he explained, because he was an avid hunter; and not make a sound during sex. Fussy complied with trepidation, after Bret explained that it was just "something new he wanted to try." Soon, Bret was asking the lithe, double-D bosomed stripper for more "death-like" behavior whenever they were intimate.
Finally, Fussy had enough. She had no desire to be the "living dead girl" in Bret's ever-more sickening fantasies.
Bret listened very nicely as she confronted him, and offered her a glass of wine, explaining that he needed to get help with his sickening fantasies.
After finishing off half a bottle of Cristal, Fussy fell to the ground. Hours later she awoke with a pounding headache, and was disoriented.
Soon, Bret appeared with a maternal looking nurse, and cheerily asked "How's my patient?"
"Whaaaaaaaa...." Fussy asked.
"My dear! You're an accomplishment! I finally have the zombie love slave I always wanted!"
Luckily, for Fussy, her bosses and friends at Shakey's had become concerned. After fighting with police who could care less about one last stripper having a "Fancy Meets the Senator" moment, the law intervened. Fussy was strapped to a Striker frame, face ashen, an infected scar running across the top of her head, hair matted, with two straggly little ponytails.
Fussy spent months recovering, while Bret and his nurse accomplice were never found. Today, Fussy is a college student, and with plastic surgery, almost no sign exists of the horrible scarring. She does have some left over problems...as I interviewed her, she stared longingly at me, chomping a bit of raw meat meaningfully. Drool escapes down her chin. But Fussy lives.
So remember, girls! If he seems too good to be true and likes your cat, and showers you with diamonds, expensive champagne, he is not to be trusted! He just wants a zombie slave!***
*I am responsible, and I alone, for this truly smart-assed look at Cosmo.
**Names changed.
***Or, he could have more money than he knows what to do with, and happens to like your pet, which is part of you.
No comments:
Post a Comment