When I first started writing my review for Virginal Bella, I was a different Assassin. I was bright-eyed and bushy tailed, naïve, ripe with promise, hopes and dreams. While I still have a great ass, the light has long since left my eyes. Now, I am jaded, world-weary, almost cynical. I no longer dream. I no longer hope for a better tomorrow. This story has killed the earnest, sunny Assassin of yester year.
Now the gloves come off. Not the boxing gloves or anything. The kid’s gloves I wore every time I read a section of this to keep from scratch my eyes out. That’s right, Virginal Bella. I’m coming at you stone sober… ish.
43 chapters… 43 attempts at telling this tale of intact hymens and religious molestation. 43 failed attempts.
“Is there meaning behind the use of the gold and the emerald.” Bella questioned.
In reality, no, there isn’t, but I bet the author will come up with a cockamamie backstory for the ever so unusual use of gold to make jewelry. And I do mean that with all the sarcasm in the world. Bless her heart.
“There is, the gold is to show that the person wearing the ring was apart of a royal family and the legend of the emerald is that if you give an emerald to the one you love you will stay faithful to each other. ” I told her giving her a gentle kiss.
That explains why I can never stay faithful to any one woman. They’ve never given me an emerald ring! It would be a little weird if they did, but still. Besides, I’ve never met a woman that could suck a dick like Mitochondrial Eve. We were going at it like bonobos!
“Also there is meaning behind the the finger it is placed on and which way the heart faces.” I said.
This I can believe. I place great importance on finger-based communication. Take this story, for example. My middle finger is permanently extended at the screen each time I work on reviewing this bag of dicks.
“So what does it tell other people with it on my left ring finger with the heart pointing away from me?” she asked.
“That means you are engaged, now still on that finger but with the heart pointing up the arm that signifies that the wearer is married. If the ring sits on the fourth finger on the right hand with the heart facing away from the body that means that they would be open to a relationship and if it – the heart – faces the body implies that the owner it is in a committed relationship and is not interested in looking for a new partner.” I informed her.
I’m not sure how to feel about Edward knowing all this crap. After thousands of years of evolution increasing our brain size and developing the capacity for speech… Is this whole “ring language” really necessary? Symbolism is all well and good, but when it gets this convoluted, it defeats the purpose.
“Wanna hook up?”
“No, I’m married.”
“So am I. Wanna hook up?”
See how much simpler that was?
“So when we get married you will rotate it for me?” she inquired.
“If you would allow me that honour then yes just before I give you your wedding ring I will rotate it for you and place it back on your finger facing the direction that will telegraph our new status.” I told her giving her lots of little pecks as I now couldn’t stop kissing her.
“Telegraph your new status?” Will it send smoke signals of your new status too? Perhaps Morse code? To what extent is this ring rotation capable of sending outmoded means of communication? And why would that even be necessary? Teenage skank has five kids. Count’em, five! Trust me, no one would wanna tap that if she were giving it away for free, married or not. That shit will be wrecked by the time the fifth one cartwheels down that birth canal.
“Edward as much as I love you, I am cold can we go home please?” she begged me.
“Sure Bella” I said unhooking her legs and standing up, I assisted bell a in standing and getting off the rock I left the blanket behind.
“Unhooking her legs?” Unhooking from what? Does she have peg legs? Did Bella immaculately lose her legs to an IED in Afghanistan? This story would be so much more interesting if she did.
When we arrived home Bella was shaking like a puppy chihuahua
I don’t normally break up sentences in the middle, but this had to be said. Shaking like a puppy Chihuahua? Allow me to remark on this author’s masterful use of imagery. I really can see Bella as a tiny bitch, shaking and begging for Taco Bell.
so I sat her on the lounge pulling the blanket off the back of it and wrapped Bella up in it. Once she was comfy and slowly warming I walked over to the fireplace and started a roaring fire. I was watching the flames flicker because I was roused by feeling a blanket being placed on my back and I was pushed down so I was sitting on the ground. Bella then walked in front of me and I looked up at her as she nudged my legs apart so that she could sit in between my legs which she did so I pulled the blanket that she had arranged on my shoulders so that it was encircling both of us.
Trying to picture this scene as described gave me a headache.
“Edward can we get married sooner rather than later?” Bella asked resting her head on my shoulder.
Since her litter of bastards is already kicking at a week into term, I can see the reason for rushing. She’s going to start showing soon, and the whole village will know what a hussy she is. Sharpen your pitchforks, ladies and gents!
“Sure angel do you have a date in mind?” I asked.
“Do you think the 28th of march would be too soon, do you think we could have it organised by then?” she asked.
*releases the breath I didn’t know I was holding* I expected the author to choose February 31st. Nothing else in this story makes any fucking sense, I kind of hoped she’d go for gold and pick a date according to the rest of this tripe.
“In one month, I’m sure if you talk to mum
she will be excited to help you plan it. Do you have any ideas for it.?” I enquired.
One month?! What’s so goddamn important that they have to be married in a month? I get it, she wants to look good in her wedding dress, but that’s a losing battle. Most people look like a blown-up meringue in their wedding dress, but no one wants to get hit with a shoe, so they keep quiet about it.
“I would like to invite my friends from school and yours. The colours I would like to use the colours brown and green
Brown and green? I love the diarrhea theme she’s going for here. A shit-colored wedding for a shitty story. How fitting! At least they won’t have to worry about a drunk, dirty uncle shitting all over their wedding day; if it happens, it’ll blend right in.
in some way, I think a simple homey meal would be good and safe for our children.” she told me.
Good. None of that junk food stuff while you’re pregn… Oh wait. Scratch that. McDonald’s, anyone?
“That sounds amazing, I cant wait for it. I love you so much Bella” I told her kissing her cheek.
“You both look very cozy” both of our heads snapped to the right where mum’s
voice came from.
“Yes we are, it was cold outside” Bella explained.
“Why were you out there it must be close to negative 10 out there?” mum
said sounding very worried.
“Its ok mum
we were only out there for 15 minutes, I took her to my favourite location and I asked her to marry me.” I said smiling which made mum
“Congratulations Bella and I am going to assume you said yes?” mum
You assumed? It really is true what they say; you just made an ass of yourself. No, you dumb fucking idiot. I’m sure Bella would rather be a single teenage mother to five fucking kids than get her grubby little hands your dumbass son’s trust fund.
she said, and mum
Mom… I hate this author so fucking much…
gasped with happiness as we all knew that mum
wanted a daughter of her own but things never worked out the few times to adopt a girl and the last time cut too deeply for her to try again as the girl who was putting her newborn daughter up for adoption withdrew the offer two days shy of the grace period, the baby girl had been living with us for a month and a half, the child never got a name because mum was too afraid to name it and then lose it, mum and dad were going to have a naming ceremony the next weekend all of her friends were coming to celebrate the new addition but mum cancelled the party quickly. she lost her spark for a few weeks, I could see that with those two words coming out of my fiancé’s mouth had just lit the spark ten fold.
So this adoption has a “grace period.” It’s not a couch that you can return within 30 days. Adoptions in the state of Colorado have no grace period during which the mother can ask for the child back. However, IF a mother can prove that she signed the kid over under duress or coercion she can get it back within 90 days, Queen Madam of Research. It took me a whole thirty-seven seconds on Google to find this out, and I don’t even tout myself as Master Researcher. And they didn’t name the child for the month and half they had it? What did they call it? “Carlisle, Little It is crying again. Can you give her a bottle?” Sounds adorable. I’m glad Esme’s getting an old-ass teenage daughter. It’s a good enough option to never having had raised a daughter of her own. That’ll make up for all those lost years of pink bows and shit, and other assorted tortures mothers put little girls through in the name of living vicariously.
“did say yes, would you like to join us to help us plan our wedding?” Bella questioned and mum
“Yes I will be right back” mum
said before she ran out of the room it was a few minutes later she came back in with her arms full. She sat beside us putting all of her things on the other side picking up a blank note pad.
Arms full of what? She just happened to have a stack of bridal magazines lying around in case one of her teenage sons knocked some bitch up and had to have a shotgun wedding in a hurry?
“What ideas do you have?” mum asked her excitedly.
“Well so far we have the colours brown, green and white” she said looking at me as she had added a colour. I placed a kiss on her neck.
She just added white to her diarrhea theme. I like the consistency here. White really brings this whole theme together; what’s a shit-fest without toilet paper?
“Its ok Bella if I don’t like something I will speak up and let you know.” I told her.
You’re the groom. You pay for shit and shut the fuck up. Your opinion is neither wanted nor appreciated. As a good Christian kiddie, you should know this is how it’s always been and that’s how it will always be. Conservatism, hooooooooo!
“For the food we were thinking of a hearty meal that would warm you from the inside” Bella put forward.
Brandy. Brandy does that. I recommend brandy.
“So a meaty stew to start with then spaghetti and for dessert” mum said.
Hmmm wedding stew. Yum! Nothing gets the shits going like macerated stringy meat boiled in questionable liquid.
And spaghetti, of course. A classy choice for the fancy wedding of the doctor’s I’m-gonna-live-off-my-trust-fund son.
“Can we have something fun like a chocolate fountain and a sundae bar?” I requested.
A sundae bar? It’s not a toddler’s birthday party, for fuck’s sake! What else? A clown that makes condom balloon animals? The guy could pull double duty; hire him for the bachelorette party, too. He can make balloon cocks and balls.
“Sure Edward, who would you like to invite to your wedding?” mum
The chapter ends with a comma. I cannot make this shit up.
“We would like some of our friends from school and we would like to offer our brother and sisters the chance to bring ten friends each as well as family members.” Bella answered her.
How considerate. It sounds more and more like a toddler’s birthday. And their siblings can choose family members? Shouldn’t they all have the same family members, seeing as they are, you know, in the same family?
“So we need to plan for 100 people maximum to part take
That’s right, fuckers. “Part take” in the wedding, not take full part. That means you can only have the shit stew or the spaghetti. I can see why they’d have to ration out the diarrhea-inducing menu. There are only so many Porta-Potties in town.
in your wedding celebration. Have you picked out a date for your wedding where I will get my first daughter?” mum
Yes, Esme, the fucking wedding is all about you. It’s about you getting your first daughter. Self-centered bitch.
“We are hoping if it could be done in time to get married on the 28th of March so you will only have to wait a month to get me as your daughter in law.” Bella told mum.
“Oh Bella lose the ‘in-law’ bit you will become my daughter nothing less, and the 28th of march is a perfect date I can get everything organised by then. I will leave you in peace to enjoy your engagement and I will get started on the wedding. ” mum
informed us standing up collecting all the things she had brought with her.
So she brought out a bunch of shit, did nothing with it, then picked it all up and left. Well, that was a disappointment.
We never did find out what they were. I quickly stood up and ran to the blanket cupboard and found the one I was looking for so I could race back to my heart. I held out my hand for her to take which she did I picked up the thick blanket that we had been using and laid it out flat.
“On you go angel” I told Bella, I waited till she was sitting down and I went to stoke the fire adding a few logs to keep the fire going. Once I was happy with the fire I sat down next to my love pushing her so that she was laying on her back I covered us with the thinner blanket and I gave her soft chaste kisses which started to heat up as I wasn’t going to hold back any more as we would be husband and wife in 29 days. I got lost in her rubbing her belly every now and then just enjoying making out with my future wife.
“I love you so much Bella.” I told her not stopping giving her kisses.
“I cant wait to become your wife Edward, I love you.” she said, reaching up and pulling me back to her mouth as I had gravitated to her neck and shoulders.
Pap pap pap pap pap pap.
It was the day of our wedding we went slightly non traditional as we went together to buy the things that we need to.
You went shopping for shit on your wedding day? Leave things a little late there.
I helped her pick out her dress as well as the other dresses that were need for the wedding party.
On your fucking wedding day?!
I was standing at the altar waiting for the love of my life to walk toward me and become my wife.
“We hailed a cab outside David’s Bridal and went straight to the church. Turns out these cookie-cutter characters could all fit into cookie-cutter dresses with no need for fittings.”
I looked around the church at my families
Multiple families? These adopted kids are such greedy fucks. One family is usually enough for the rest of us, but not for them! All your families are belong to me!
hard work, we did a lot of it ourselves even though mum
had hired a wedding planner. There was brown and green bunting along the aisle every thing had either green or brown or both. I watched with a small smile on my face as my brothers and my new sister walked towards me to stand in their allocated spots. Then the wedding march started and everything except for my bride to be disappeared, she was all I could see smell or hear.
He could smell Bella from across the church? Bitch should have taken a shower.
Bella had to nudge me when it was my turn to say ‘I do’ as I was made speechless by her innocent beauty
Ha! Innocent. Yes, unwed pregnant teens usually look very innocent.
as I had only help pick the dress but wasn’t allowed to see it on her. I was just staring at her the whole time when I noticed her arms come up and incircle my neck and pull me down so that she could kiss me as soon as our lips touched the world around me came back into focus.
“Please congratulate Mr. and Mrs. Edward Cullen.” The priest said and the wedding guests applauded us.
I went back into a daze as we danced our first dance to Robert Pattinson’s ‘I’ll Be Your Lover Too’.
Poor Rob… Can you people ever leave him out of your dystopian fantasies?
Then the next thing to come to my attention was when we were cutting the cake and feeding each other. Both of us made sure to get the cake in the others mouth and no where else.
Where’s the fun in that? No smokes, no booze, no cake on your face; there’s nothing more boring and pedestrian than good, clean living. That sentence is so telling of what their sex life is going to be like: a sheet with a hole in it so he never has to see her naked—Or what’s colloquially known as “The butterface special.”
On our way up to our room Bella collapsed on the stairs I was able to catch her before she fell down the stairs I carried her back down the stairs.
“DAD, DAD COME QUICK SOMETHING HAPPENED!” I screamed at him and he came running.
“I don’t know she just fell down on the way up the stairs.” I informed him.
Is she dead? *expectant happy face*
“Did she hit her head or belly when she fell?” dad inquired.
Please say yes!
“No I caught her before she hit the ground.” I told him.
Bella is there pain anywhere?” he asked her brushing her hair away from her face, to both comfort and feel her
Since when has brushing hair out of your face comforted anybody? Seriously, that’s just a thing they do in movies where a person’s hair is so immaculately disheveled that it needs to be moved from one gorgeous position to another.
“My belly hurts” Bella moaned out.
It’s just gas. We know you don’t want to fart in front of your fiancé on your wedding day, but seriously, woman, you’re doing yourself no favors. That stew has got to be killing your intestines.
“Ok baby girl anything else?” he asked her quietly.
The lack of proper punctuation is getting to me.
“Yeah I’m really tired and not hungry.” she said with a groan and closed her eyes. He looked at me.
Hey, bitch! These are important questions and you should answer them properly. He didn’t ask about being tired or hungry, he asked about pain, so fuck off and do what god designed women to do and go make a fucking sammich.
“How much did she eat today?” he asked.
HA! It’s like a fetal version of the French revolution. Bella was like, “let them eat cake,” and now my wish is going to come true when her head rolls across the floor like a partially deflated basketball.
“Not much at all what she did eat could fit on a side plate.” I told him.
And cleanly into a mouth, am I right? Yeah, I’m right.
“Ok Edward take her up to bed and then let her rest, make sure her left side is close to the bed , I will get everything for her and we are going to have to move you both down to the ground floor. I will come up and talk to you in a bit.
What does “close to the bed” mean? I have to guess it means “on her left side,” but why wouldn’t you just say that unless you were about to repeat everything Carlisle just said in different words for no reason? And why can’t they talk now, unless the writer is intent on creating some dumb shit event where Edward and Bella get half a second alone in a bedroom which we all know they’ve never shared before.
Bella can only leave the bed for bathroom things with assistance.”
Who died and made you king arbiter of her bowels? If the bitch can walk on her own, she can shit on her own. Fuck, her dignity has already been shot to hell, might as well make sure she can never face any of us ever again! If a damn baby falls out of her into the toilet, I’m sure she’ll call for help. I know that five babies wreck a woman’s body, since it’s almost completely unnatural, but who the fuck says she can’t walk to the bathroom on her own just because her tummy hurt that one time? Lots of pregnant women’s bellies hurt when there’s a life forming in there—I’d venture to say all of them do. Not to mention Carlisle, the super doctor ski shop owning jack of all plot holes, is diagnosing her based on the fact that her belly hurts and that she didn’t eat much on her wedding day. Did it occur to anyone that maybe she was nervous about the crowd of torch-bearing, pitchfork wielding über Christians outside that want to hang her from the nearest tree for getting knocked up with five anti-christs, and that’s why she didn’t eat much? No, of course not, because we need some stupid manufactured drama to keep this pathetic excuse for a story going for another twelve goddamn chapters!
dad said and I turned around and walked up to my room and placed my wife on our – yes it is our bed now – I move to the other side of the bed and pulled the covers down and gently moved Bella over making sure she was on her left side I tucked her in. I pulled over my comfy chair so that I was in arms reach of her.
That’s it? No fires, no looting, NO DECAPITATION? I need a damn drink, maybe a smoke, and an overpriced hooker; not for the sex or anything, but for the panache of a high class hooker scandal… and some dirty sex with a hot girl 50,025 years my junior.