From the wicked brain of Qdangerous.Clik the name
that is your doom, slut.
ONE OF MY MISTRESS's HOPELESSLY devoted chattels, whom she calls "Slutty Moos Sponge Asthray Whore — a financial turnaround sponsor, part Jewish, all slave — flew frantically to Baltimore to pay homage to the Supreme Goddess of financial slavery—Qdangerous.
Sweating and nervous, he waited for her at the designated place—her favorite Thai restaurant—a restaurant which offered food as spicy and colorful as Q herself.
After two hours of anxiety and torment the Goddess Q entered. She was dressed for suck-sess as he had never seen her before — tight leather jeans, six-inch stiletto heels, and a tight-fitting tank top which displayed the logo “Hello Kitty.” From her pomegranate lips she blew a large pink bubble as she chewed a slice of Hello Kitty bubble gum. Males gasped in awe as she strode by.
As she reached her chair and sat down, Ponyboy, without being asked, dropped to his knees before this dangerous Lolita and kissed her pink toenails. She popped her bubble in disdain.
She then lifted his head with her long fingernail. “So do you have my tribute, ponyboy?” She blew another large bubble from her lips as she unnerved him with her preternaturally piercing dark eyes. He handed her a gift wrapped package which he had earlier put on the table. She purred and moaned as she caressed the tribute with her long pink nails. A elderly couple in the next booth stared over in disbelief.
“So, maggot, how is your big deal with Lloyd’s coming?,” she demanded. Ponyboy’s face registered shock. “You think you can hide anything from me. My spies are everywhere. I know everything there is to know about you.”
Taking a cigarette from her purse, Q lit it and with her finger indicated to the kneeling ponyboy that he should open his mouth. More customers began to look on in astonishment as placed her gum on ponyboy’s forehead and flicked ashes in to his mouth. He wreaked of the scent of Brut by Faberge, one of his many pathetic efforts to please or arouse her.
“Mr. ashtray, you know this pathetic offering will not do anymore. If you want to remain in my pre sence, you need to up the ante.” She flicked more ashes onto his tongue. He winced. "Decisively."
“You know I have photos of our other meetings. What do you think the directors of Lloyd’s would think if by chance they saw them?” Ponyboy began to speak but before he could form words Q slapped him viciously across the face, leaving a red mark.
“Silence, maggot. We are going to negotiate a more sizable offering, maybe even a contract. After all you want to satisfy me in the only way you can, don’t you?”
"Or would you prefer simply to never see me again — to never lick these pretty heels for the rest of your life?" The parry hit home, like a pair of her pretty spikes inserted directly into her heart.
"I smell your blood," she thought.
Tears began to stream down Ponyboy's reddened cheeks. Q flicked more ashes into his mouth. She looked satisfied and aroused. Ponyboy began to melt; these were, quite possibly, among the last freely-willed thoughts or actions of his life.
As he breathed in her heavenly and slightly musky perfume, she bent over and whispered, “Now let’s talk business.”
