Lezzies and Midol and Tampons, oh my!

.[Forward]. Well well well... I think I broke her. Which one, you ask? Both of them. And thus, Trina has become yet another name I can scratch off my list. Sure, she was easy prey, but just the fact that I fucking got rid of her is enough to make me happy. And Jasmine? Well, I heard she got her knee blown out... However did she do that? .[chinese owner of doom]. .[..i don‘t discriminate...i hate everyone..]. SCENE: Pic ‘N Save Parking Lot DATE: September 27th, 2004 TIME: 2:46 P.M. LOCATION: San Diego, California The scene opens in an abandoned parking lot. The sun is shining down onto the pavement where three familiar figures are sitting. Jay, Jalie, and Nick. Nick scratches his chin and looks over at Jalie, who’s skimming through a copy of Auto Trader. Hobo Nick: Exactly what are we doing? Jay Dumas: Nothing. Jalie Thomas: No. You are never truly doing nothing. Even if you are sitting in an empty room staring blankly, you are still sitting in an empty room staring blankly. Nick and Jay stare at the ground for a moment, contemplating her words. Jalie yawns and leans down, picking up a rock and throwing it at Jay's head. He yelps and rubs his head, glaring at her. Hobo Nick: My my...You're in an awfully good mood. Jalie grins. Jalie Thomas: Indeed I am. I finally get to get my hands on that Colombian drug dealer. Hobo Nick: True, but, what if he surprises you? Them Colombians are sneaky you know. Floatin’ over here in their tiny little rafts packed with fucking immigrants. Jalie Thomas: I believe those are Cubans, Nick. Hobo Nick: Whatever. Same difference. Suddenly Jay leaps to his feet. He points out toward the street and screams. Jalie and Nick turn their attention to the street, seeing nothing but a cop car. Jay shouts excitedly and runs toward it, shouting. Jay Dumas: Ice cream! Ice cream!! He continues running until he slams directly into the driver side door of the cop car. Nick and Jalie look at each other, confused. Jay slowly gets to his feet but is taken back down as the door swings open, nailing him in the genitals. The cop slams the door and circles the fallen idiot. Officer O' The Law:What the fuck do you think you're doing? You've put a dent in my door! One that you're going to pay for. Jay Dumas: I don't...See a dent. The cop moves his nightstick into view and raises an eyebrow at Jay. Jay grunts and looks closely at the door. Jay Dumas: Dude, I still don't see a fucking dent. The cop smacks him in the head with the nightstick before pressing his face up against the door. Officer O' The Law:Maybe you can't see it, but I sure as hell can. Jay Dumas: Oh, haha...There it is. Of course. Jalie finally stands up and walks over to the two men. She taps the officer on the shoulder. Jalie Thomas: .... Do we have a problem? The cops face takes on a cocky smirk. He leans against the car and runs his hand down her arm with a smile. Jalie raises an eyebrow. Jalie Thomas: You do realize I have to go home and bathe now. Officer O' The Law:... Ehh? Jalie Thomas: Ugh... Commonfolk. She reaches down and helps up her brother, who is still cupping what is left of his testicular fortitude in his hands. Officer O' The Law: Hey uh, you know I could let your friend go here.... If we made a little agreement. Jalie bursts into laughter. The cop looks at her in confusion. Jalie's laughter stops suddenly and her eyes narrow, glaring at the police officer. Jalie Thomas: Listen Sally, Officer O' The Law: Doug. Jalie Thomas: Whatever. Why don't you go back to the girl scout troop and stop bothering people of our caliber. And Jay, too. Officer O' The Law: Hey, listen, I fucking own-- Jalie Thomas: Hey hey hey, no need for such strong language. Boy, i'll bet you sold more cookies than anybody else eh? Sorry Susie but we’re gonna be on our way now. Jalie turns to leave, Nick now standing behind her. He reaches in his coat pocket and pulls out a smashed powdered donut, handing it to the cop and walking away as the scene fades. .Dos. The cameras fade in once more to the motel room of Jalie Thomas. The hotel room is nowhere near five stars.... The walls are covered in grime, and only a faint spotting of white paint can be seen here and there. The scuttling of God knows what can be heard all around the floors. Suddenly, the blankets on the bed are thrown back, and Jalie sits up in the bed, looking sore and irritable. We can now hear a persistent pounding on the door, along with a high-pitched voice, with a thick Chinese accent. Jalie stumbles to the door and throws it open, revealing the motel owner; a stout Chinese man with a yapping chihuahua at his feet. Chinese Owner of Doom: You... You supposed to check out, TREE days ago! Why you still here? Jalie Thomas: Shouldn’t you be off eating rice with sticks or something? The owner looks pissed as Jalie rummages through her pockets and hands him a hundred dollar bill. Jalie Thomas: Now leave us the fuck alone, Miagi. The owner grabs the money and goes to walk out. Chinese Owner of Doom: Now you can go eat beans out of a sombrero... Or whatever it is you fucking immigrants do. Jalie goes to slam the door in his face but Hobo Nick comes barreling around the corner of the hall, pushing past the Chinese man and into the room. Nick slams the door and locks it, leaning against it and panting heavily. Jalie Thomas: Nick... Is there something I should know? This isn’t another one of your Hobo-Thon training things is it? And why weren’t you paying for the room? That slant-eye dude was pretty pissed. Hobo Nick: I wish that’s what it was. Jalie, the bastards found me. Those god damn bible humping Mormons! Jalie Thomas: Actually, I think they’d be humping the Book of Mormon... But.. Go on. Before Nick can continue, Seth climbs into the window behind them holding a bucket of KFC. Jay is seen outside holding a chicken wing and pounding on the window. Seth Thomas: There’s a big ass black car outside with a bunch of B.Y.U. stickers. What the fucks going on? Hobo Nick: The Mormon Mafia! Dun, dun, DUN! Seth Thomas: What the hell was that? Hobo Nick: I don’t know. But listen, they’re after me to convert again. After that whole incident last year with the bus full of followers I think they realize what a strong asset I could be. Jalie Thomas: Either that or they’re pissed and plan to kill you. Seth Thomas: Isn’t that against their religion to kill? Jalie Thomas: Oh please. They’re Mormons, they make up the rules as they go along. They’ll believe whatever somebody tells them so long as it’s a supposed ‘message from God’. Seth Thomas: Nick... I have an idea. Seth sets the chicken down and puts an arm around Nick’s shoulder, explaining as the scene fades to black. .[Action - 10/02/04]. Suave Jones. Tool. Colombian drug dealer. Rico Suave. What else? Trust me, theres alot. Jones is one of those people who openly and freely presents fuel to his opponents. And luckily, i’m one of the people that can pick up on that. The last time I heard from Jones he called me a bitch. Hmm. Pardon me if i’m mistaken, but wasn’t I the one to refer to myself as a raging bitch? It’s something I admit to and happen to be quite proud of. I have been for years. So it makes me wonder what on earth possessed Jones to compliment me when i’ve been ranting about him for the past week. So, as for you calling me a bitch.... Yes, I am, and thank you. Would you like a hand with that foot shoved in your fucking mouth? Secondly you called me a toilet face. Need I say more? Now about the whole ‘rookie’ comment you made a while ago... You didn’t say ewo rookie, jackass. So stop attempting to correct yourself once someone points out your mistake. Now, you said that if a lady has the balls to step up to a man, especially a man like you... Then she’s getting it. What the fuck do you mean, ‘especially a guy like you’? You’re nothing special, Jones. I see guys like you come in and out of this business every fucking week. Who’s to say you’re any different? Me, I am different. I was born and raised unlike any female you’ve ever encountered. And as a result, there is not a doubt in my mind that I can beat you within an inch of your life. And that, that’s not balls. That’s fact. You actually thought I was gonna amount to something here... Until I started picking on you. What, just because I happen to choose you as an opponent i’m suddenly no good? I really don’t understand your fucking logic buddy. I get the feeling you’re one of those people who says whats on their mind without considering what it’ll sound like. You’re coming off as an unintelligent prick with no sense of sophisticated conversation. Whether you mean to or not, that’s what i’m wondering. So tell me... Are you purposely making yourself out to be a fucking slutbag, or is it just natural talent? Fin.