HT 100 #131 - Domino Effect
From Gamophobia
A change in fanon instead
http://community.livejournal.com/hardtim e100/365749.html
Donna Rosalie takes a long drag from her Cuban cigar, contemplating the map spread out on the table. The black pieces led by King Kong steadily covering ground like wildfire, the green pieces led by Lucky the Leprechaun quickly advancing. Damnit! It took her three husbands and a stepson to get to where she is! She will not let some Mick bastard just waltz in and -
"Playing with your dollies again, huh?" The old mule stands at the door. Her consigliere - the only one who can get away with such imprudence.
"Why don't you do me, and yourself, a favor? Get laid," is her snide response.
"Women like you and that Griselda Blanco down in Miami are the precise reason I refuse! Jesus fucking Christ, I thought Maria was bad - at least she stopped with castration - " Schibetta rants the usual.
"Angelina was nice, the poor woman. I bet Grandfather is still twisting around in his grave over the wedding incident. I'm surprised he hadn't made you go sleep with the fishes instead that night after blowing off his precious god-daughter like that...You know, she's still single and she's very lonely..."
"And you know petulance is very unbecoming for someone of your station."
She begins resetting the pieces. She will just have the opposing sides clear the field for her, she decides. Let's play, dollies.
"Aw...but I like to argue," she pouts, "I should really get rid of that rule. I miss having people speak openly with me."
It's lonely on top.
~ An old cliche.
"You're not happy."
Happy? Surely someone of her position should feel content. Because there is nothing she lacks...
A soft, fluffy paw touches her leg. Petey stands by her like a little person, meowing his hello. The certified pedigree had been a gift from her dear consigliere the day she officially appointed him to the position. A product of his strange hobby. "Every big boss should have one of these," he had said.
What?! How can she not be happy? Well, sure, running the organization had its, well, challenges - people just had no respect these days. Like that moolie who had the nerve to come seal a deal all strung out and the way he looked at her sweet little kitty - just wrong! But she can handle all of that fine, thank-you. Besides, she has everything a twenty-first century woman can possibly want! Money. Fame. The world at her feet.
The Donna shrugs, pulling Petey onto her lap and begins giving his back nice long strokes. "I'm not unhappy."
A change in fanon instead
http://community.livejournal.com/hardtim e100/365749.html
Donna Rosalie takes a long drag from her Cuban cigar, contemplating the map spread out on the table. The black pieces led by King Kong steadily covering ground like wildfire, the green pieces led by Lucky the Leprechaun quickly advancing. Damnit! It took her three husbands and a stepson to get to where she is! She will not let some Mick bastard just waltz in and -
"Playing with your dollies again, huh?" The old mule stands at the door. Her consigliere - the only one who can get away with such imprudence.
"Why don't you do me, and yourself, a favor? Get laid," is her snide response.
"Women like you and that Griselda Blanco down in Miami are the precise reason I refuse! Jesus fucking Christ, I thought Maria was bad - at least she stopped with castration - " Schibetta rants the usual.
"Angelina was nice, the poor woman. I bet Grandfather is still twisting around in his grave over the wedding incident. I'm surprised he hadn't made you go sleep with the fishes instead that night after blowing off his precious god-daughter like that...You know, she's still single and she's very lonely..."
"And you know petulance is very unbecoming for someone of your station."
She begins resetting the pieces. She will just have the opposing sides clear the field for her, she decides. Let's play, dollies.
"Aw...but I like to argue," she pouts, "I should really get rid of that rule. I miss having people speak openly with me."
It's lonely on top.
~ An old cliche.
"You're not happy."
Happy? Surely someone of her position should feel content. Because there is nothing she lacks...
A soft, fluffy paw touches her leg. Petey stands by her like a little person, meowing his hello. The certified pedigree had been a gift from her dear consigliere the day she officially appointed him to the position. A product of his strange hobby. "Every big boss should have one of these," he had said.
What?! How can she not be happy? Well, sure, running the organization had its, well, challenges - people just had no respect these days. Like that moolie who had the nerve to come seal a deal all strung out and the way he looked at her sweet little kitty - just wrong! But she can handle all of that fine, thank-you. Besides, she has everything a twenty-first century woman can possibly want! Money. Fame. The world at her feet.
The Donna shrugs, pulling Petey onto her lap and begins giving his back nice long strokes. "I'm not unhappy."