Galatea & Acis vs. Nick Fuentes: Male Feminists Don't Seem So Bad After All, Do They?

 

"Male feminists just want to get laid!" So do incels and groypers. Nick Fuentes fans will go to some...extreme measures to achieve their goals. You know damn well what I mean.

Mary Shelley: Matriarch of Science Fiction (Happy International Women's Day!)

 

I know I accidentally made her look like J.K. Rowling, but trust me, that's Mary Shelley. History owes her a debt of gratitude. Everyone else owes J.K. Rowling a middle finger.

Funky Frog Bait (they/them) vs. Brett Cooper (doesn't have pronouns, because she's special)

 

GamerGate and "Ethics in Journalism" (Bullshit)

 

The Queer Kiwi vs. Isaac Butterfield

 

Rachel Oates vs. Alpha Male Podcaster

 

Written By a Man

VERSE 1

I got no experience, so I got no soul

Not enough broken bones, not enough bullet holes

Not enough time spent behind steel bars

Not enough time trapped in subway cars

So I do my very best to pass the Bechdel Test

But my only point of reference is The Man Show and Wrestle Fest

I got a pile of mistakes higher than a bird’s nest

Learn my lessons from some, set fire to the rest

 

CHORUS

Manic chick from a magical land

Written by a man

Did I write it with one hand?

Written by a man

Manic chick from a magical land

Written by a man

Did I write it with one hand?

Written by a man

 

VERSE 2

I got no girl who could be my whole world

But it ain’t her job to launch me to the top

I got to pull myself out of this water slide pipeline

I got to be more than just a cishet white guy

I got to find out what the fuck is going on

Why the fuck is my maturity taking so long?

They call me late bloomer, ‘cause it couldn’t happen sooner

Got some gray in my hair, now they call me a gooner

 

CHORUS

Manic chick from a magical land

Written by a man

Did I write it with one hand?

Written by a man

Manic chick from a magical land

Written by a man

Did I write it with one hand?

Written by a man

 

VERSE 3

I got no baggage I can actually unpack

So I’m stuck in murder mode, ready to attack

It’s easy to blame the one who screams the most

Especially when she’s dead and floating like a ghost

I’ll get my shit together if it takes me forever

I don’t have to be an angel, I just have to be better

A lifelong process, because learning never ends

When you got no ego, you got nothing to defend

 

BRIDGE

Damn right this book was written by a man

Started as a fan who believed that I can

You’re not competition, I hope we all win

The new world is here, let the story begin

"Reflections on Healing" by Rachel Oates

BOOK TITLE: Reflections on Healing

AUTHOR: Rachel Oates

YEAR: 2022

GENRE: Poetry and Photography

SUBGENRES: Mental Health, Feminism, and Abuse

GRADE: A

Rachel Oates has always had a complicated relationship with poetry, whether she was critiquing it on her You Tube channel or writing some of her own. But through it all, her writing skills shine brilliantly in this collection of poetry. She explores uncomfortable topics through a sensitive lens. Even when the poems don’t have happy endings, they never feel exploitative. They feel like she’s being true to herself and using her hurtful experiences to help others who are going through the same thing. In addition to helping other victims, these poems are also a middle finger to anybody who would ever beat or degrade another human being through the façade of compliments and love-bombing. Rachel Oates fancies herself a rookie in the poetry genre, but you wouldn’t know that from how expertly she handles the written word. That alone is worth an A grade.

One of my favorite poems in this book is Romb, a title which is not a typo, but a well-crafted pun. She talks about having a room to herself only for judgmental neighbors and men in suits to condescend to her and tell her how she should live in it. This is all of course a metaphor for her womb and how pro-life activists are every bit as nosy and intrusive as the people judging her room. Rachel says in one of her videos that a goal of poetry is to find innovative ways to say what the poet wants to say. She certainly lived up to her own advice in this poem and that’s a recurring theme throughout the entire book. She may be a rookie, but she’s a student first and foremost and is therefore a serial learner who takes in so much creative fuel before starting her projects. Learning doesn’t stop after graduating college. She’ll no doubt take this knowledge with her if she decides to put out another book of poetry.

Another poem I enjoyed was the much more disturbing Puppet Master, where she once again uses innovative comparisons to describe a serious topic, this time being abused by one of her now ex-boyfriends. Oh sure, the puppet master has pretty dolls and he assures you that you’re the prettiest of them all, different from the others. And through this manipulation and psychological torture, you believe these lies while becoming made of wood and strings yourself, strings that leave bruises from being tightly bound, and wood that doesn’t move until the puppet master says so. Thankfully, the poem ends on a high note of Rachel leaving her boyfriend and starting the healing process. But man, does this poem hit me where it hurts the most. While I’ve only had two romantic relationships in my whole life and neither of them were that bad in hindsight, I did have other people in my life bombard me with hate and then suck up to me with love and compliments. Rachel and I may both be atheists, but we can surely agree that there’s a special place in hell for people who gaslight and abuse their loved ones.

Of course, the other genre this book falls under is photography. She definitely has been engaging in this craft for a long period of time, judging from how professional and expressive each photo is. I especially like the one she took of downtown Southbank. Then again, cityscape photography has always been fascinating to me, whether it’s the bright lights, cool water, or beautiful colors in the sky. Honestly, Rachel could take pictures of mundane objects and it would still be considered great art by virtue of her own artistic integrity and personal lens (no pun intended). That’s the mark of a true artist: you know who made the art because their personal voice and point of view shines through in the most recognizable way possible.

This book is less than a hundred pages long, so you can breeze right by it in no time at all. But the poetry and photography will stay with you long after the reading experience is over. I will remember Rachel Oates’s work for the rest of my life, not only because of the raw vulnerability, but also because of the skill in which she executes her writing. I look forward to more publications from her, just as I always look forward to her upcoming You Tube videos. She smashes the stereotype of You Tubers being cash grabbers when it comes to publishing books. She’s serious about her craft and she will prove it to you over and over again until it stays with you forever. Noticing a theme here? Nothing less than five stars. Brilliant and heart-wrenching!

RBG

MOVIE TITLE: RBG

DIRECTORS: Betsy West and Julie Cohen

YEAR: 2018

GENRE: Documentary

RATING: PG for language and politics

GRADE: Extra Credit

RBG documents the multi-decade career of women’s rights lawyer and Supreme Court justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg. Growing up as a second class citizen by virtue of her gender, she knew right away what she wanted to fight for when she tried her cases. Her legacy laid the groundwork for equal pay, equal opportunities, and equal treatment between men and women. Though we still have a long way to go as a society in terms of how women are treated, Ruth Bader Ginsberg will always be seen as someone who got the ball rolling in the right direction. Even today in her old age, she remains a pop culture icon among liberals, women, and youngsters, even being jokingly called The Notorious RBG, a parody of hip-hop artist Notorious BIG.

Ruth’s quiet and introverted nature was a focal point throughout the movie and makes her come off as likable and trustworthy even among her political opponents. She doesn’t believe in raising her voice or being nasty when arguing a case. As a matter of fact, yelling at somebody to win an argument will always turn the other person off rather than bring them in. If you need further proof of Ruth’s diplomatic approach, she was close friends with Antonin Scalia, a Supreme Court justice and rightwing advocate. If those two clashing personalities can get along, imagine what other kinds of barriers can be broken among our people. Breaking down social barriers is important in Trump’s America due to how divided and venomous we as a society have become. Watching Ruth Bader Ginsberg’s peaceful interactions among her opponents is inspiring to watch and makes me believe in hope all over again.

As a matter of fact, any political documentary that makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside will always earn an extra credit grade from me. That’s the kind of feeling we need in today’s world. It’s easy to feel angry and disenfranchised with everything going on and I’m not immune to any of that myself. Stripping you of your hope and your happiness is exactly what the extremists want. When you lose sight of what’s important in life, you become bitter. Bitter words will never bring us together no matter how loudly we yell. Even though I’m a proud liberal, I wouldn’t trade any of my conservative friends for the world. Some of them have been there for me during the darkest times of my life and that’s a debt I could never repay. Ruth Bader Ginsberg will never raise her voice, but she will fight for everything the world needs. That alone makes her a role model we can all be proud of. In fact, some her fans are so proud that they got T-shirts, coffee mugs, and even tattoos in dedication to her. Tattoos? Really?

Back in February of 2018, I saw a one-man show depicting the life and legacy of Thurgood Marshall, another Supreme Court justice who fought for equality, but among races. Ruth Bader Ginsberg showed the same heart and dedication when she built her legacy around gender equality. These two performances have a lot in common, particularly in the way they show how powerful a good debating strategy can be. In their cases, the lawyers were so influential that they became Supreme Court judges. It’s not a role to be taken lightly. It can be the difference between living in a civilized society and throwing everything back to the Dark Ages. Sometimes it feels like we’re living in the Dark Ages all over again, which is why it’s so important never to give up hope or give up the fight for the common good.

Watching this documentary will empower you to levels you’ve never imagined. It’s a wakeup call for everybody involved whether they want to be woken up or not. As I’ve stated earlier in this review, I’m giving the documentary an extra credit grade for being an empowering life lesson without preaching to the choir. It’s not just a pat-on-the-back for ninety minutes. It’s something we could all use at least once in our life.

Ghostbusters

MOVIE TITLE: Ghostbusters

DIRECTOR: Paul Feig

YEAR: 2016

GENRE: Supernatural Comedy

RATING: PG-13 for language and violence

GRADE: Pass

Dr. Erin Gilbert is a university professor who used to tinker with supernatural experiments as a child, but no longer believes in ghosts as an adult. When she investigates a haunted house disturbance alongside her childhood friend Abby Yates and her partner Jillian Holtzmann, Erin’s fascination with the paranormal is rekindled once more. The team adds subway clerk Patty Tolan and goofy assistant Kevin Beckman to their camp and they become The Ghostbusters. Despite public backlash and skepticism, the Ghostbusters continue to track down ghosts and demons in the streets of New York City using energy weapons and containment shells.

The elephant in the room with this movie is the all-female protagonist cast, which has generated an unfair amount of criticism from misogynists and fans of the original Ghostbusters movies from the 80’s. The last time I heard that much whining, I was babysitting puppies. What’s so bad about having strong female characters? Why must all badass women run around in bikinis and have fast romances with hunky men? The Ghostbusters don’t fit any female stereotype and they’re not sexualized in any way. They’re just everyday women that you would see on the street…except for the fact that they shoot nuclear lasers at ghosts and laugh in their doubters’ faces throughout the movie. In the end, if they can save New York City from being overrun by monsters and demons, they’ve got my support no matter what. Keep up the good work, ladies!

In addition to having strong female characters that destroy obstacles and defy gender roles in convincing fashion, you’ve also got a main villain who many people can identify with despite his evilness. His name is Rowan North and he’s the one who’s been unleashing a horde of monsters on everyone in sight. He is so awkward and weird that nobody wants to even be within ten feet of him. If you’ve ever been labeled as a weirdo during your younger years, you know how much pain this man is in. Hell, there are times when my own awkwardness gets in the way of personal progress. While Rowan’s anger toward a cruel and unfeeling world is understandable, never forget that he is a villain and his weapon of choice could destroy an entire city, maybe even the whole world. Would it kill anybody to give this guy a hug? Hell, even Erin Gilbert and Abby Yates could identify with Rowan!

Now that I think about it, there aren’t very many characters in this movie that are dislikable. The monsters are brutal and violent, the humans are quirky and humorous in their own way, and there are even actors from the 80’s Ghostbusters movies that reappear, although as completely different characters. The minute Bill Murray’s face popped up on the screen, the entire movie theater erupted with laughter. When even more actors like Sigourney Weaver and Dan Akroyd appeared in the movie, there was laughter and cheering mixed into one sweet package. This blending of old school and new will create a lot of cheerful and hilarious moments, crude insults and dark jokes included.

With this kooky cast of characters all in one movie, you’d be hard pressed to find a single sorrowful moment in the whole film. Since when did positivity and fun-filled entertainment become things to scoff at? Is all of this harsh criticism really about the main cast consisting mostly of women? Do you really need a sandwich that badly? Then for god’s sake, go to Subway and shell out five dollars for a foot-long! Heaven forbid that women find their own source of strength and shatter the glass ceiling into snowflakes. Ghostbusters has earned a passing grade from me not just for the fast-paced action or the silly jokes, but also for being a model for progressive change. Nothing stays the same forever, not even hate.

Laugh Like You're Dumb

The raven stared down upon the two hillbilly gangsters like a judge in his bench giving a lengthy prison sentence. The wasteland was the perfect place to dispose of a dead body since nobody came out here and the heat would cause the corpse to decompose faster. The only witnesses to this crime were the stoic raven and the leafless tree it stood upon. The two rednecks used shovels to dig a shallow grave for their fallen victim: a beautiful young girl in a bloodstained white dress. Even in death, she still had ropes bound around her body and duct tape over her mouth, the latter of which prompted one of the murderers to tell a joke.

“Hey, Billy-Bob, how do you start a conversation about rape? Peel the tape off of the victim’s mouth!” The sociopaths weren’t the only ones who got a good chuckle out of it. A college student named Daniel Jason let out an uncomfortably long hyena howl to where his ribs and back were both aching. And then everything went black and a pause symbol manifested itself on the screen.

The classroom lights went up and Daniel was slowly coming down from his laughter spell. The entire class, including the elderly teacher Jonathan McAvoy, stared at him with fire in their eyes and downward eyebrows. As the final few chuckles departed from Daniel’s belly, the blond-haired frat boy looked around and shrugged his shoulders. “What? What’s everyone looking at me for?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Jason, why is everybody looking at you?” asked the white-haired and fuzzy-bearded Mr. McAvoy rhetorically. “Would somebody like to explain to him why we’re all staring at him in disbelief? Oh, Miss Miller, how about you?”

“Sure, I’d love to,” said the short pink haired Christie Miller. She cleared her throat and said, “You know, Daniel, the reason we’re all staring holes into you right now is because you laughed at something nobody ever should. There’s nothing funny about rape or murder. It’s demoralizing, it’s traumatizing, and it’s the most violent thing you could do to another human being.”

“Give me a break, lady!” said Daniel while throwing his hands up defensively. “Why do you feminists have to ruin everything for the rest of us? We can’t laugh at anything anymore because it might be offensive to someone else. What happened to us? What the hell’s going on here?!”

“I’ll tell you what’s going on,” said Mr. McAvoy as he walked up to Daniel’s desk and placed his palms on the surface while glaring at his student. “This isn’t about political correctness or artistic license. Over the years, some of us, not you included, have learned a simple philosophy that everyone should adopt: basic human decency. In other words, we’re supposed to treat each other like we ourselves want to be treated. Suppose a real life rape victim heard you laughing at that joke. Then what? Are they just supposed to ‘cowboy up’ and take it?”

“Yes! You’re damn right they should!” shouted Daniel back at his teacher, who then backed up a few steps. “I don’t have to dumb down my sense of humor just because there are pussies and wusses in this room! Nobody tells me what I can and can’t laugh at!”

Christie shot up from her seat and retorted, “Fine! Then you don’t get to tell the rest of us what to laugh at either! That means if you slip on a banana peel and smash your head open on the floor, the entire class is allowed to laugh at you because that would pretty much be the same thing as America’s Funniest Home Videos!”

Daniel chuckled sarcastically and said, “Please. You’re missing the whole point of America’s Funniest Home Videos, Crusty. They’re funny because they’re happening to somebody else. Of course it wouldn’t be funny if it happened to me.”

“Congratulations, Mr. Jason, you’ve proven to everyone in this class that you’re not capable of having empathy for others,” said the film studies teacher as he folded his arms. “You know who else doesn’t have empathy for others? Bullies, serial killers, rapists, animal abusers, basically the entire sewage system of our society. You wouldn’t happen to be one of those people, would you, Mr. Jason?”

Daniel scrunched his face and shrugged his shoulders in confusion while saying, “What the hell are you talking about?! Laughing about rape isn’t the same as condoning it! I don’t go around raping random women because I want a good laugh!”

“I’d really like to believe that, Daniel,” said Christie in a low, but tense voice. “I’d like to believe that you’re just a good person with a twisted sense of humor. Those people do exist. But then I go back to the other things you’ve said today, about how feminists are ruining everything and victims of abuse should just toughen up. How are any of us supposed to trust you knowing what kind of stances you take?”

“And just so you know, Daniel,” said Mr. McAvoy. “Feminists aren’t ruining anything in this country. If it wasn’t for them, women wouldn’t have the right to vote, they wouldn’t have the right to divorce their husbands, they wouldn’t have the right to embark on their own careers, basically, they’d still be second class citizens. In some ways, they still are and it’s all because of people like you who perpetuate that ignorant attitude we’re supposed to be fighting.”

During the last few seconds where he was being berated, Daniel sat at his desk looking down at his shoes while his anger boiled over in the form of shaking and heavy nose breathing. He finally pounded the desk with open palms and shouted, “That’s it! I’ve had just about all I can take of you stupid bastards! I’m leaving! If you’ll all excuse me, I’m going to the cafeteria to cool down! I’m going to eat a ham sandwich and watch Anthony fucking Jeselnik on my iPhone! And if none of you like that, you can all go straight to hell! Fuck you guys, I’m out of here!”

Daniel shoved his desk to the ground and flipped the entire class the double birds before picking up his backpack and stomping out of the classroom. “Don’t plan on coming back!” yelled Mr. McAvoy before he received an extra middle finger from the hissy-fit-throwing frat boy.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m really sorry about Mr. Jason’s behavior,” said Mr. McAvoy. “I’ll make sure he’s never allowed to set foot on this campus ever again. We don’t need that kind of ignorance in a place that’s supposed to be about education.”

“No!” yelled Christie while holding up a flat palm. After a brief moment of silence, she said, “Don’t expel him just yet. He may be a sexist pig, but he’s not completely without empathy. If you’ll all excuse me…I’m going to go give him some!”

It had been a whole half hour since Daniel Jason stormed out of Jonathan McAvoy’s film studies class. The frat boy sat at a table in the cafeteria by himself munching on a ham sandwich and watching dark comedian Anthony Jeselnik on his iPhone, just like he said he would. Every demented joke to come out of Anthony’s mouth made Daniel chuckle with delight and forget about the humiliation he suffered in the classroom.

And then the familiar throat-clearing sound got his attention. He looked up from his iPhone and saw Christie Miller standing across the table from him and smiling while waving. “Jesus H. Christ, Christie, what do you want? Are you here to tell me that I just offended a bunch of Christians by saying Jesus H. Christ? Those religious assholes say it all the time and nobody gives them shit about it.”

Still with a roguish smile on her face, Christie brushed her dyed pink hair back and said, “Relax, big boy, I’m not here to chastise you. I just wanted you to meet my new best friend. He’s into the same things you are and you two would really hit it off. Maybe you could let him into your little fraternity.”

Daniel suddenly felt a hard slap on his broad right shoulder as a muscular black arm was wrapped around him in an affectionate way. Daniel gulped a huge wad of saliva and shook nervously as he saw the big black football player standing over him with a seductive grin on his face. “Now hold on there, partner!” said the black dude. “Your ass is about to get some sweet Texas loving!”

The frat boy stared into his offender’s eyes with horror on his face and a quivering lip. He could barely get out a frail, “Uh-oh” before he shot up from his seat and tried to bolt out of the cafeteria in one piece. He didn’t get too far. He banged his knee on one of the tables and collapsed to the ground holding his knee, prompting everybody in the cafeteria, Christie and her “new friend” included, to laugh until their ribs ached.

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” yelled Daniel as he rolled around on the ground clutching his knee. They didn’t shut up. They grew louder in their donkey laughs, causing him to have a tear roll down his cheek.

As soon as Christie and her new friend got their back-splitting laughter out of their systems, the pink-haired student pulled out her wallet and handed the football stud a wad of twenty dollar bills. “Keep your money, baby,” he said. “That kid’s sweet little ass is payment enough!”

I Owe You Nothing

It didn’t matter how many times Tina Williamson replayed the incidents in her head, because they made less sense with every mental edit. What part about “No!” did John Link not understand? It was a two-letter word that even the most rudimentary English speakers could understand. Regardless of how many times she said it, John kept on asking her out on dates as if high school romance had become a war of attrition. At first it was just a simple series of requests. Then John started saying things like “You owe me!” and tugging on her clothing, almost enough to pull them off.

When these frightening thoughts prevented Tina from concentrating on school work, she decided enough was enough. Giving a D+ to a hardworking student like her was unjustifiable. She had to tell someone of John Link’s misdeeds. Why not start with her parents? That should have been a secure conversation to have. She couldn’t imagine going to the Principal with something like this, considering the school’s track record with handling student complaints.

As Tina gingerly walked home, her legs and arms shook not just because of the cold weather, but also because she didn’t know what the hell she was going to say. She stared through her thick-rimmed, fogged up glasses with dead emptiness. She stuffed her hands in her blue jeans pockets, but the denim wasn’t thick enough to protect against the cold. The black skull cap and pink sweater didn’t do much good either since she was still shaking. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for a few minutes alone in her room with the heater blasting at maximum power. It would have been like a sweet Hawaiian breeze, the calm before the storm of knowing she eventually had to talk to her parents.

She finally made it to her house and fumbled with her keys. Her hands shook so badly that they fell out of her grip once she pulled them out of her pockets. It took her a while to get a good grasp while bending over, but once she did, she wasted no time in unlocking the door and being in the comfort of her…well, comfortable home. At least it was supposed to be comfortable.

Tina’s eyes widened with horror as she shut the door behind her. Her jaw was quivering and her teeth were chattering at the sight of John Link sitting on the living room couch with her parents, Kenny and Melissa Williamson. John, who wore his studded leather jacket and black jeans, had his arm around Melissa while the two of them plus Kenny laughed like a happy family should.

“Tina, sweetheart, why didn’t you tell us about this handsome young boy?” said Melissa with a charming smile. “He was going on and on about how he’d love to have you as a date to the winter dance.”

“He’s a stud, Tina. He’ll take good care of you like a grown man should. Hell, I’d even call him husband material!” said Kenny as he ruffled John’s spiky blond hair.

The image of those three sitting together laughing, joking, and buttering each other up lit a fire in Tina’s belly. She threw her brown leather book bag on the plush chair opposite of the couch and folded her arms while giving John Link the gorgon death stare. “How many times do I have to tell you no? Are you deaf? Do you need a hearing aid? Or are you just plain stupid?”

“Tina, don’t be rude to your guest!” insisted Melissa.

“No, I’ve had it with this shit!” screamed Tina as she threw her arms by her side. “I’m tired of this Neanderthal coming around me thinking I owe him a fucking relationship! I’ve got news for you, dumb-ass! I owe you nothing! You’re not entitled to free sex! You’re entitled to get the hell out of my house before I call 9-1-1!”

John stood up and extended his arms in a “calm down” manner and said, “Hey, hey, hey! There’s no need for that, Tina. I just want to take you out and show you a good time. I’d never do anything to hurt you. I was just telling your folks here that it would be a great idea for us to get dinner at your favorite Italian place after we mingled at the winter dance. Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“Not nearly as much fun as watching you being dragged away in handcuffs!” screamed Tina.

The mock boyfriend hung his head and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. With a solemn attitude, he said, “Okay, okay. You’re absolutely right, Tina. You’ve said no to me for a long time now and I’m just too thickheaded to get the point. I’ll be on my way soon enough.” A beat of silence hung in the air and cold chills were building within the Williamson family. “But then again,” said John. “You’ve shown me disrespect just now and…and…I can’t let that slide!”

John pulled a revolver out of his jacket pocket and put a bullet in Kenny’s leg. The old man dropped to the floor clutching his bloody wound and howling in agony while Melissa knelt beside him, also screaming like a demon. Tina’s eyes shot up as she held her hand to her mouth while watching this scene unfold. She tried to help her father, but John kept his gun trained on her and said, “Hey! Back off!”

Holding her hands in the air defensively, Tina said, “He needs help, John! He needs an ambulance!”

“For God’s sake, Tina! Why couldn’t you just say yes to the poor man!” yelled Kenny in between fits of pain.

“Your dad has a point there, sweet cheeks. All of this could have gone away if you just said one simple word. One word, three letters, one of them being a Y. That’s all you had to do. Instead…” John twisted his head around eccentrically and said, “You had to reject me and make me feel like a worthless piece of shit! Do you think I’m a piece of shit, Tina?! Huh?! Do you think you can label me like that?!”

John fired another bullet, this time into Melissa’s back, causing her to wail at her loudest. Tina wailed as well when she screamed, “Stop it! Leave them alone! They’re my family!”

“Now look what you’ve done, Tina! How could you do this to your mommy and daddy! We’ve worked so hard for you!” screamed Kenny before he went back to clutching his leg and grunting through his teeth.

And then Tina Williamson had a moment of clarity. Here was this maniac standing in her living room with a loaded pistol and her own parents were putting the blame on her for refusing John’s advances. Tina’s parents always had a conservative state of mind where women were subservient to men. But Tina never bought it for a minute. She was nobody’s slave. She was her own woman and she planned on keeping it that way. But with a pistol pointed at her face, her options were limited. Just one word could change it all.

“Yes.” Tina let that word hang in the air for a while so that it could resonate throughout the room. In a calm manner, she said, “You win, John. If you want to date me, you can. But first, there’s something I want from you.”

“You’re in no position to be making demands, lady! I’m the one with the gun! I give the orders!” screamed John.

“All I wanted was a kiss. Why can’t we start things over with just a nice kiss?” said Tina. Those words hung in the air as well. Every syllable could be felt by all in the form of blood chilling and temporary silence from screaming in agony.

A smile formed on John’s face when he said, “Okay, baby. That’s actually a good idea.” He lowered his weapon as the two of them came together in the center of the living room for what would be a passionate make-out session. It started with a peck on the lips. Then their tongues danced in each other’s mouths. And then once John’s tongue advanced passed Tina’s teeth, she bit down hard and amputated the oral organ.

John dropped his gun and held his rapidly bleeding mouth while shrieking in pain. He tried to swear, but there was too much blood and not enough tongue for words to be formed. It all sounded like a monster’s gargling. In the time it took John to sprawl across the ground and dribble blood on the carpet, Tina picked up the fallen gun and put a bullet into the sex offender’s head, causing Melissa and Kenny to squeal in fear and jump backwards a little bit, but not too far since they were still in god-awful pain.

Tina never fired a gun before in her life, yet she slew John Link like a professional assassin. Her arms were shaking, her eyes were teary, and she could barely stand up as she trembled.

“Tina…sweetie?” said Melissa in a soft voice. “Give me the gun and we’ll take care of this for you.” No answer.

“Come on, Tina, what are you waiting for? Give your mother the goddamn gun!” insisted Kenny.

In a sudden burst of volcanic anger, Tina pointed the gun at her parents and yelled, “You sold me up the fucking river with no paddle! Die, you motherfuckers! Die!” She unloaded the last remaining bullets on both of her parents, leaving the living room with three dead bodies and one sobbing girl.

Tina threw the empty gun aside and dropped to her knees, letting her sore red eyeballs drain onto what was left of the now bloodstained carpet. She could see it all unfold before her. It didn’t happen yet, but it was going to. Tina would be sentenced to life in prison, the newspapers would label her a psycho, her fellow classmates (male and female) would laugh at her, and it would all boil down to one stupid question that nobody should ask: “Why didn’t she just say yes?” The disgusting thoughts caused Tina to vomit heavily onto the carpet before laying down in her own mess and passing out. She knew the world was cruel to women, but she didn’t know how bad it had gotten until that day.