In case of Emergency
It recently came to my attention that you’re a bitch. For reasons undisclosed you have been dubbed thusly, though disclosure, I feel, is unnecessary. As the saying goes, ‘A bitch knows why a bitch be a bitch.”
I’m writing not only to announce your bitchhood but to appeal to the slim remnants of your humanity to both denounce and atone for your sins. Should you not wish to become what is known, in latin, as ‘Primus Futatrix’. Bitch No. 1, then you shall change your ways.
One Christmas, when I was but a little lass, I wanted an RC car. I know, crazy right? I think it’s safe to say I was a tomboy back then. Anyway, back in my no skirts allowed days I wanted an RC car, and I wanted one for two reasons. The first reason was because I wanted to drive that thing like a winner. I wanted to set up ramps in my garden and have it soar over them and do sweet backflips. You get the picture. The second reason, whilst perhaps not at the forefront of my conciousness, was to see it crash. If there is a dark section in our psyches that lusts for violence, this was it at a junior level. I’d tweak the joystick at the last minute to send the little buggy – for that is what I eventually procured – into a destructive spiral. I’d say all the neccesary “Oh no!”s and rush over to see if it was okay, but the dark temperament was sated for now.
So if you do somehow change your ways and revoke your membership to Bitch Weekly, I’ll be happy, sure, happy for humankind knowing that you are willing to stop inflicting your wicked ways upon them, but some part of me – some deep darkness I just can’t shake – will be disappointed. Disappointed I wasn’t able to step in and stop it for you. Disappointed I wasn’t the one to tweak the joystick.
So think about it.
Written especially for a friend who shall remain anonymous, (not Abigail LAWL) but if you have a bitch in your life and you need to let them know, feel free to take this template and fill in the blanks