The Pregnant Wrath of Whiskey

Whiskey drug Fancy's fat ass down to Hastings one afternoon.  She was looking for her hippie books.  She bought a book, but when she got home realized it wasn't exactly what she wanted.  Therefore, she called up Fancy and asked her to again drive her to Hastings to exchange the book.  First, Fancy made Whiskey get something to eat with her--a garlic-filled dinner with SHITTY service, which put them in a mood to begin with.  When they finally hit Hastings, they returned the book, and Whiskey decided to go back and have a looksie again.  When they got to her hippie section, which was strategically placed next to the "sex" section, there was a group of nasty-ass teenagers.  Fancy was quite pleased that she could browse the sex section while Whiskey looked for her books about "chakra charging."  While the two nipples indulged themselves in their dirty materials, the group of teens turned vulgar.  They were loudly making commentary about sexual positions.  At first we were intrigued.  How could teens know as much as old-time sexers?  Eventually the comments turned really raunchy and totally inappropriate for a public place.

 This talk fired up poor Whiskey.  She decided to take action.  She went to the front of the store and asked to speak to a manager.  When Whiskey expressed her concern and frustration about the situation, the manager, who looked like a deer in the headlights, lost all coloring in his face.  He did NOT want to deal with this problem.

Fancy and Whiskey went the back way to the section and resumed their browsing.  They overheard the manager quietly informing the teens that their behavior wasn't appropriate and that someone had complained.  We could overhear the kids talking about their previous conversation and how they could do whatever they wanted.  In the end, they left the store. 

Never mess with a pregnant Whiskey!  No one can match her wrath.  Just ask Little Papa.  She has beat him into submission.  Like the black widow that she is, I'm surprised she hasn't eaten him by now.  Just ask Paul Bunyan.  She's just a high maintenance beotch!