James, my limo driver, came to the door with my pool boy, Jacob. They were both in their servant uniforms—tiny matching speedos with the British flag on them because I’m really a male British actor playing a woman while wearing a man’s skin like a suit, but I won’t let figments of my imagination like you know that.
I called them Jamcob, because they were really the same person with two social security numbers. Jamcob swept me off my feet and carried me out to the waiting limousine. Alice and Not-Alice followed close behind. I was meeting Jasper at the premier of his new movie, The Hunger Dames: Fire Crotches. By the way, Jasper is in porn. They call him the Colonel Sanders of porn because he’s southern, has a white beard, and he is finger lickin’ good. It’s because of his work in the porn industry that he’s lost all respect for women and now prefers men.
I hit the white carpet, which started out red, but we’re talking about porn stars here—all the photographers wanted to get the money shot, and the actors misunderstood—and strutted my stuff. All eyes were on me until I ran into my arch nemesis for the evening: some bimbo named Victoria that was going to try to convince Jasper to go down her red carpet.
She had the pleasure of being with my man in several movies and even got paid for it, but that isn’t enough; she wants what’s mine.
Jasper belongs to Edward, and Edward belongs to me—Bella. I clenched my fists as I became Possessiveward. He consumed me and surrounded me. Literally. I glared at Victoria, and she glared back. The crowd started to chant “We Will Rock You,” and I widened my stance in anticipation of her assault.
I didn’t have to wait long. She charged me in her platform heels, her knees knocking out like the whore she is. I stopped her dead in her tracks, when she pulled out an ice cube, rubbed it on her nipples, hardening them into razor-sharp weapons.
She cut my Edflesh on the cheek with her right nip, and stabbed my right palm with her left. I didn’t mind though, and squeezed it gently with my bloody fingertips.
“Ya like that, don’cha, doll?” She giggled.
“You bitch!” I screamed, swinging at her with my left arm.
She dodged, flung me over her shoulder, and slammed me onto the floor. “Stay down, cunt.”
“Cunt?” I asked with revulsion.
“Yeah, from the Proto-Germanic word, kuntō, though that is still under debate with some scholars, it is still widely accepted as fact, you fuckin’ whore!” She punched me in the face, breaking my nose.
Jasper moved to intervene by jumping on top of her and tried to pry her off me but her grip was like, I don’t know, some sort of vise, I guess. He was pulled to the ground and the three of us fought, rolling end over end before we wound up bumping against a stanchion near the edge of the walk way.
Alice jumped out of the limo and charged us. “Life has no meaning,” she droned nihilistically, diving into the dog pile and detonating the explosives she had strapped to her body. That’s when I started to seriously regret inviting her along.