Mhm, yeah. Yeah, baby, that's the way it works. You hit me, I take it, you give me all you got and we all return home to our abusive parents and cry and kill ourselves.

Babe, come on. You know you wanna play with me.

I've seen those little glances you've cast me. I wore my skirt higher and higher for you every day, pushing it up with my pinky finger as I sat down. I was watchin' your reaction in the corner of my cheap, KMART shades.

I used to work at KMART. I get bargains. Ya know?

Yeah, you used to work there. Side on side with your slutty girlfriends coming up and pressing their petite bodies all over you, your hands going over, under then up their tight little skirts. I bit my nails and watched you with those skanks, making sure you'd know what to do when you got the real deal-me.

I am the real deal, babe. I am the holy, almighty, alpha, omega, beginning and end. You better cry out with your prayers to be, Jebez, because I won't hear you unless you're on your knees and begging.

Uh huh, the last guys begged. With my gun pressed in their mouths, the bitter taste of steel and blood mixing in their mouths as I pushed the gun in farther and farther.

"No, pwease," they cried, trying to talk with their tongue pressed down, "pwease lade-ie, 'on't."

And I did, and their brains shattered all over the wall and I flicked their blood off my dress and laughed. Twisted the gun into their hand.

Suicide.

I fucked their dead bodies, making out with my tongue going through the space where the roof of their mouths should have been. The blood was all over me, all over you.

Then they came. They called me crazy, took me away and locked me up for a while. A long time, alone in those rooms. Bad girl. Think about what you've done.

Uh huh. I've thought about it alright.

And the thing I regret?

Never doing you.

C'mon, cutie. You want to do it with a real girl, right?

Right.