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Simon shivered in the cold of the night and bit his lip.
He was lucky to have survived that last milking, his mind kept turning back to life on the farm and then bitterly swinging back to the early days, before the women took over when he had a job! He had a car! He had a say! And women were basically there to cook, clean and occaisionally, very occaisionally, service one's undercarriage.
He'd never been what you might call successful, but he had been a happy man, some would have said he was rich in spirit. He'd found a position in middle management in a large city bank, he'd had a secretary that could give the best damn blowjobs imaginable and back home a wife who, though she'd let herself go, as wives tend to do, made up for it with enthusiasm.
It had all changed when they started getting these stupid ideas in their head, that they could run things, that their thoughts and opinions mattered.
No one had seen it coming. What was dismissed as women moaning like they always had just in a different form grew and grew like a tumour on your favourite testicle. But we ignored it! Oh it's a bit lumpy..oh it's just ten times the size of good old lefty..ow that hurts...it'll sort itself out.
And now here he was, cold, shivering, laying down to sleep on the dirty grimy floor of an old bra factory. You could still smell the fumes from when they torched the place.
A single tear trickled down Simon's face.
He and the others..the ones that had escaped the farm, they had to do something.
They were going to take back democracy.
[ooc - you are a bastard] |
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Bastard
Last edited by Lennon Legend : 07.22.06 at 09:44:41.
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