Mickie James: Ironically Sex Negative

 

Radiohead vs. Danny Masterson

 

The Radiohead lyrics are from the song "Creep". Danny Masterson would absolutely take those lyrics literally.

William Lewis and Liv Benson from Law & Order: SVU

 

Monster at Your Door

VERSE 1

There’s a monster at your door, though she looks like an angel

Taking pictures of your house from more than one angle

She won’t be the only one who shows up this evening

They got shotguns for popping, baseball bats for beating

You reach for the gun locked inside your steel cabinet

You got a machete to turn their clothes into cabbage

You got a one-way ticket in case you need to dip

But for now, no movement, just zip your fucking lip

VERSE 2

You can cross the country and then cross the ocean

But the monster’s fanatics are known for their devotion

If she gives marching orders, they’ll march your ass down

If you’re in the biggest city or the tiniest of towns

It takes a marathon sprint to get the fuck away

Until your legs crumble like they’re paper mâché

Until your heart beats at a million per minute

Until your sanity is pushed beyond explosive limits

VERSE 3

Nobody in their right mind will think this is fair

If they do, they got no brain under their hair

Monsters have short fuses over absolutely nothing

The tiniest infraction is worth a lifetime of cussing

Throwing a fit and making big ass scenes

They got fuck-you money and the praise of the machine

But if the history of tyrants is anything to go by

Their empires will crumble as they crocodile cry

Lionize the Bad Guy

VERSE 1

He’s got a whole ass file on his favorite chicky

Face Book bikini picks gives him a sticky dicky

Send her a thousand letters, give the envelope a licky

Beat her man with driftwood or make the gun go clicky-clicky

It’s society that made him a little sicky-sicky

Hurry and say sorry, ‘cause time is ticky-ticky

Moral grayness is always tricky-tricky

That’s why you can never be too picky-picky

 

CHORUS

Lionize the bad guy

It’s everyone else’s fault

That he’s such a sad guy

Now the spinning world has come to a halt

 

VERSE 2

Everyone’s favorite story is when zero turns to hero

Might get a good review from some dude named Shapiro

Might become the manifesto of some basement-dwelling weirdo

Might become the ammunition to break the attrition

 

CHORUS

Lionize the bad guy

It’s everyone else’s fault

That he’s such a sad guy

Now the spinning world has come to a halt

 

VERSE 3

Who do you let play with your brain like clay?

They’ve lost their way, it’s as clear as day

They made you laugh, made you cry a long time ago

Now you’re swimming in tears, they’re rolling in dough

Money’s kind of funny in the way it controls everything

Who gets the cardboard box, who gets the brass ring?

It’s the same ring you put your lips on before their boots

All because you found toxic romance to be cute

 

EXTENDED CHORUS

Lionize the bad guy

It’s everyone else’s fault

That he’s such a sad guy

Now the spinning world has come to a halt

Demonize the tearful

They’re always just so sensitive

And always so fearful

In a world that pisses away evidence

 

FINAL LINE

Goodnight, my supreme gentlemen. And always remember: it’s never your fault.

Circus Seal

VERSE 1

Whether I’m eating dinner with my family

Or on the brink of schizophrenic insanity

Or taking a shit in a public bathroom stall

Or watching a movie that makes me bawl

You must have my attention here and now

It doesn’t matter when, doesn’t matter how

An autograph or a private performance

Neither, pal, now go fuck off into orbit

CHORUS

I’m not your circus seal

You don’t care how I feel

Private time is not yours to steal

I’m not your circus seal

VERSE 2

It’s not that I hate my own loyal fan base

It’s just that this is neither the time nor place

I need my moments of peace and quiet

If I turn you away, don’t start a city-wide riot

Don’t post my dirty laundry on the internet

My private and public lives do not intersect

Nothing personal, I just want to unwind

In a place where nobody will ever find

CHORUS

I’m not your circus seal

You don’t care how I feel

Private time is not yours to steal

I’m not your circus seal

VERSE 3

You buy my products, but you’re not my boss

If you despise me, it’s your own damn loss

You don’t own me like a hand puppet master

Threatening me will only make me walk faster

EXTENDED CHORUS

I’m not your circus seal

You don’t care how I feel

Private time is not yours to steal

I’m not your circus seal

I’m not your favorite bitch

You don’t make me rich

I don’t owe you shit

I’m not your favorite bitch

Sexy Lunch

“One…two…three!” SMASH! “Go, go, go! Move, move, move!”

These were the orders Detective Joey Roberts barked to five other police officers after kicking down the door to what used to be the Dam Hill Apartment Building. In one hand was her trusty cold magnum. In the other was the breast pocket of her black trench coat as she held it over her face to keep the foul odor from assaulting her senses. To her it was no different from performing a raid on a bus station bathroom. Filthy diapers, empty liquor bottles, rotten food, and buzzing flies covered every square inch of this dilapidated nightmare.

“Clear!” one officer after another hollered from distant corners of the abandoned trash heap of a building. The more Joey heard that word, the more her rage bubbled to the surface. To think that three years of mind games and false hope would lead to a big waste of time killed her inside worse than a dagger to the heart.

“Come on, Sanchez, where are you?! Show yourself!” barked Joey as she continued bolting down the various corridors with her eyes bloodshot and her pistol packing heat. “That smell better be your dead corpse!” Her wishful thinking led to even more spilled trash covered in every human fluid imaginable. She almost tripped over a dead cat being eaten by maggots. One dead cat led to another. And another. And another. The trail of blood brought her to apartment 12A, the door barely hanging on its hinges. One elbow strike was all it took to knock the motherfucker down.

There he was laying on a mattress with his baggy pants around his ankles and his striped shirt pulled up to his chest. Wearing a nearly toothless grin with an unkempt Mohawk was the man of the hour, Matt Sanchez, who smiled at Joey coldly and with psychotic intentions.

This should have been an open and shut case for the detective. However, she lowered her gun slowly and gazed at the wall behind Mr. Sanchez with wide, horrified eyes and quivering lips. Photographs were pinned to the wall, not just of ordinary people, but of Joey and her two elementary school-aged daughters. All three of them were at the beach enjoying a sunny day and…wearing bikinis. Joey’s saucer eyes morphed into angry slits when she saw the words “Sexy Lunch” scrawled across these photos with what appeared to be and smelled like old, crusty feces.

“Were you masturbating to me and my family?!” Joey growled.

“Yep,” said Matt Sanchez matter-of-factly, his lips smacking and tongue clicking as he chuckled insanely.

This would have been the perfect time to put a bullet in her stalker’s brain and get it over with. Joey’s finger edged oh-so-close to the trigger while sweat poured from her palms like a fine mist. That obnoxious laugh of Matt’s echoed through her mind much like the smell of this apartment complex burned her nostrils. Ultimately, she decided to sheath her weapon…but not out of a sudden change of heart.

Joey ripped a hardcover bible away from the bookend on the nightstand and started pounding it relentlessly over Matt’s head, arms, and back. As stiff as each blow sounded, not even the savage beating could drown out the serial killer’s girlish screams as he attempted badly to cover up. Detective Roberts wouldn’t stop. Her eyes flared up like burning gasoline. Drool splashed all over the already filthy carpeted floor. Every strike became more brutal and faster-paced the longer she went.

It took three police officers to clutch her around the arms and waist and yank her away from the beating while two more officers yanked a bloodied and bruised Matt to his feet to cuff him. Even when pulled away, Joey wouldn’t stop thrashing around, growling loudly, and swinging the bible. “Detective, that’s enough!” she heard one officer say, but it was the understatement of the year. She had to be restrained against the piss-stained wall in order to calm down just a little bit.

“What the hell are you doing, Detective?!” asked one of the cops. “You’re not supposed to be doing shit like that!” Holding his body cam, he said, “You’re going to get us all in a whole fuck load of trouble if you keep that up!”

Joey’s thrashing slowly diminished into heavily-breathing calmness at the realization of what she did. Her eyes and thoughts still burned at the sight of Matt Sanchez’s shit-eating grin superimposed on the unwanted photos on the wall. “You’d better listen to your friends, Detective. Your sexy daughters won’t have mommy to come home to otherwise.”

“You son of a bitch!” shouted Joey as she broke free from the officers’ grasps and spear tackled Matt in the ribs, knocking the rotten wall behind him over. Scandalous photos splattered over the two of them as Joey rained down the heaviest fists she could muster, slashing the serial killer over and over again. This time all five officers had to restrain her to the floor and shout orders for her to calm down. Out of the corner of her eye, Detective Roberts could see Matt Sanchez spitting out some teeth (not that his ugliness changed with them in his mouth). Still was that sadistic grin.

“What the hell are you holding me down for?! Get him before he gets away! That’s an order!” belted the Detective. Sure enough, Matt tried to get back on his knees (cuffed hands be damned), but two officers held him down once again and ordered him to shut his “filthy hole”.

Dripping with blood from his mouth, nose, and fresh cuts, Matt was hauled to his feet and carried from the door, still smiling arrogantly at his “sexy lunch”.

“Now, Miss Roberts…can I trust you to not go berserk this time? Is it okay to let you up or are you going to go ballistic some more?” asked an officer. Just as the glassy-eyed, saliva-mouthed detective was about to answer, a resounding thud echoed throughout the building. The three cops and detective headed out to the lobby and found Matt lying on the ground in a pool of blood and vomit. How much of it was his was up for debate. The two cops attending to the serial killer called for a medic while looking disgustedly at Joey.

“Do you not give a shit if our jobs are on the line?” asked one of the cops. It was hard to tell them apart due to Joey’s blurry tunnel vision and traumatic ghosts haunting her mind. “Hey, are you listening to me?! Our suspect just collapsed and it’s all because of you! The captain is going to have our balls for this! What the hell were you thinking?!”

Attempting to form a sentence through her jittery stutter, Joey said, “Did you…see those…pictures? Did you…see what…he called me and my girls?”

“Detective? And I use that term loosely,” said another faceless officer. “You should know by now that this job isn’t supposed to be personal. We need your head in the game and here you are beating the shit out of our suspect. You know how many times my family has been threatened by this asshole? What about the rest of us? Do we get to pound the hell out of him too? No, we don’t! This is a job! Take it seriously!”

Taking longer breaths and lowering her guard, Joey said with quiet anger, “It’s too late now. He’s already dead. What’s done is done. The world isn’t going to miss him and neither are any of you. Those body cams can record whatever they want for all I care. Hopefully, they recorded all of those…pictures…those pictures…those goddamn pictures!”

An officer leaned Matt up in a seated position, the killer’s body fading in and out of consciousness. But still there was that smile, like he had eaten the world’s sexiest lunch and had a comfortable BM afterwards. “What are you smiling at?!” burst Joey. “What the hell are you smiling at, you little rat turd?!”

Spitting blood on the floor, Matt said, “Looks like I’ve got one more kill under my belt. Well…much more than that if the whole police department gets taken down. My life…is complete…my work…is done!”

With a mile-long stare into Matt’s soulless eyes, Joey said, “You heard him, boys. His life is complete. His work is done. There’s nothing left for him to do. We’re all screwed one way or another. Hell, he probably put those pictures up just so we’d find them and commit career suicide. Mission accomplished. Now that we’re dead, let’s go have a few beers.”

Seeing the writing on the wall, the cop that was attending to Matt Sanchez pulled out his gun and blew the killer’s brains out, doing no more damage to the apartment complex than already stated. The legal shitstorm would come quickly and destructively. But the joke was on the DA because the cops and detective didn’t have any money to give to the plaintiffs. They spent it all on hot wings and beer!

Dark Fantasy Rock Goddess

Autumn Smith peeked through the backstage curtain of the Dead Pegasus Orc Bar and felt like someone had just punched her in the stomach. She was used to wild and raucous crowds, but never before had she played her elven bard music in front of savage creatures such as orcs. Their drunken screams and violent shoves were reminiscent of barbarians going to war against the gods. A few of them even threw the bar’s furniture at each other. The bouncers’ hands were tied with one group of wild orcs, so much so that many of these barbaric brawls went unnoticed.

The elf guitarist swallowed a massive wad of saliva in nervousness, but that only served to further irritate her anxious and chilled stomach. And then a dark-skinned hand laid lovingly on her shoulder and put her somewhat at ease. That hand belonged to the blond Mohawk-having, red robe-wearing sorcerer known simply as Bloodshark. He said in his best smooth jazz voice, “Don’t you worry about a thing, baby girl. I’m the best mercenary money can buy. If one of these motherfuckers puts their hands on you, I’ll shove thunderbolts up their asses and fireballs down their throats. You’ve got this, sugar pie.”

Autumn breathed deeply to settle her nerves and said to Bloodshark, “Thank you so much for agreeing to do this for me. I’ve never played in front of orcs before.”

Bloodshark smiled and shook his head before saying, “Listen, honey bear, orcs are no different from any other wild and crazy crowd: they all turn to ashes after getting zapped with my magic lightning. Ashes look the same no matter what race, creed, or color they originally were. Now you go onstage and have the time of your life, cuddle muffin. You’re a dark fantasy rock goddess. You don’t sweat the small stuff.”

The elven bard smiled sweetly and said, “You’re right, Bloodshark. You’re absolutely right. I’m going to show these drunken assholes what a real rock goddess looks like. I’m supposed to be getting a huge payment for this concert, so if you want a raise, you can have it.”

“It’s show time, sweetheart,” said Bloodshark after squeezing Autumn Smith’s shoulders. “Give these suckers all you’ve got!”

The words of encouragement put an even bigger smile on the silver cloak-wearing bard’s face as she grabbed her acoustic guitar and nodded at her mercenary before taking center stage. The orcs stopped fighting amongst themselves and cheered like a bunch of battle hungry warriors. Despite being a race of sloppy eaters and uncouth manners, even they could appreciate the heavenly beauty of their rock and roll princess.

She had soft and creamy green skin, long and silky dark hair, hypnotizing purple eyes, gorgeous red lips, a sparkling gray halter top that revealed just the right amount of cleavage, fetishized high heeled boots, and tight black leather pants that accentuated her best lower body features. Autumn’s appearance alone was a main event show on its own. But when she started strumming her golden guitar, every note and every chord put the orcs in a drooling trance.

Her singing voice made every audience believe she was an angel from the most beautiful of heavens. Her erection-worthy lyrics spoke of the pleasures of love making from her partner’s perfect muscular body to the wonderful thrill of being pushed into. She even made a few orgasmic moans to simulate the gentle sex she was singing about.

The crowd of drunken orcs, who had been brawling just minutes before, were now retarded with love for this sexy elf playing music for them. They drooled, their eyes were halfway closed, they were hunched over, and many of them purposefully sat down at their tables to avoid…embarrassment.

And then one of the audience members made the mistake of reaching up on stage and grabbing Autumn by her ankle. “Ouch! Let go! You’re hurting me!” she yelled as the orc held on with a nearly crushing grip. The other orcs egged him on and showed their wildness once more with berserker screams. And then that sexually harassing orc drew back a stump when Bloodshark appeared from behind the curtain and zapped his hand.

A fountain of black orcish blood burst in the air and stained Autumn’s lovely clothing, to which she gasped in horror. The orcs laughed at their creepy brethren while Bloodshark warned them, “Anybody else want to try that shit? Go ahead! Come on! I don’t get paid by the hour, motherfuckers!”

One of the orcs pulled out a battleaxe and screamed furiously before charging at Bloodshark with a full head of steam. The mercenary sorcerer extended his fingertips and shot a cannonball-like fire volley into the warrior’s chest, sending the orc flying all the way to the back of the bar and crashing through the wall.

Autumn grabbed her bodyguard by the arm and shouted, “I’m not paying you to kill them! I just wanted some security, damn it!”

Bloodshark shoved his boss to the ground, pointed his finger at her, and said, “Let me do my job and then we’ll talk about semantics!”

While the elf bard crab-walked and cowered in the corner of the stage, more orcs descended upon Bloodshark with swords, axes, and flails drawn. That much heavy screaming pierced Autumn’s eardrums and made her feel like she was about to be ripped to shreds by this horny crowd.

And then Bloodshark threw his hands in a rapid fire machinegun motion as he tossed glacial spikes left and right into the orcs’ chests. While most of them were dropping to the ground bleeding like volcanoes, other orcs grabbed onto his arms and legs ready to tear him limb from limb. The sorcerer’s body became a conduit of electricity, sending lightning through his attacker’s bodies and turning them all to a pile of bloody ashes. And then the sorcerer threw fireballs at an assault rifle pace. And then more lightning bolts. And then more glacial spikes. Within a matter of lengthy seconds, the crowd full of horny orcs was reduced to shreds of skin, pieces of bones, and oceans of blood. Even the bouncers and bartenders weren’t spared from this deathly onslaught.

Bloodshark hunched over and clutched his knees while breathing heavily and admiring his handiwork. Autumn stopped flinching and surveyed the battlefield around her. Her bottom lip quivered, her body convulsed, and her eyes widened with horror as she pulled herself to her staggering feet. “Oh my god…what have you done? This isn’t security detail. This is murder!” Autumn banged on Bloodshark’s chest with her puny hands and yelled, “You’re a murderer! You’re a goddamn murderer!”

The sorcerer restrained the elf with his massive arms and stole a sloppy tongue kiss from her while leaning her backwards. It was long and passionate, but Autumn wasn’t buying the passion as she pushed away and crab-walked backwards again in disgust. She spit and coughed until she was certain the rotten flavor was out of her mouth. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“No, Autumn. I think the real question is…what the hell is wrong with YOU?! How could you treat your number one fan with such disdain? Is that what you rock goddesses are really good for?” protested Bloodshark.

The elf’s breathing slowed and her mouth quivered even harder as she realized the trap she had fallen for. “No…no…this can’t be happening. You’re not a mercenary. You’re a stalker! You’re a goddamned stalker! How can you do this to me, you sick pervert?!”

“How can I do what to you? Write you the sweetest letters a fan could ever write? Send chocolates to your house that tasted like pure heaven? Send roses to your studio that smell like fresh warm Eden? I spent more of my own mercenary money on you than I did for myself. And the way you repay me for my love and affection is by ignoring me and acting disgusted with me?! I should be the one disgusted with you! But I’m not, Miss Smith. I’m in love!” said Bloodshark with the wildest eyes and the creepiest grin.

Autumn shook her head and said, “You don’t know a goddamn thing about love. You’re just a pervert. You’re the worst kind of scum a singer like me could ever meet. You’re not the first one to fall in love with me. I’ve dealt with sickos like you many times in my career. You think you’re special just because you’ve eliminated all of your orcish competition with a little bit of magic? You’re pathetic!”

Bloodshark’s eyes glowed with light blue neon as he said, “It’s not just a little bit of magic, Miss Smith. It’s what I use on a day to day basis when I fight for the affections of my sweetest crushes. You rock and roll women are all the same to me. Then again, it’s just like I said earlier…all ashes look the same! If you won’t say yes to me…then I’ll say goodbye to you!”

Autumn Smith shouted, “No! Please!” as the perverted sorcerer extended his fingertips and threw the biggest bolt of electricity his tired body could muster up. What better place to send that spear of lightning…then right through Autumn’s “cold and loveless” heart?