ugly death slapper
Another reppin' tale.

She was about four feet tall and as ugly as sin. Her face looked like it had been moulded from putty by Edvard Munch and coloured in by a molested child. The local Greek guys dubbed her 'the monster'. Nevertheless, this didn't stop her shagging the captains of every yacht moored in the village (six), who presumably got so drunk that it didn't make a difference in the dark.

But her two defining characteristics were a chronic self-absorption and an obsessive hypochondria. The former was manifested in a non-stop monologue about how assertive she was, how she definitely wasn't a lesbian, how men kept falling in love with her and how nobody liked her and she didn't care and everyone could just fuck off if they didn't accept her.

The second meant that during her two weeks, she had sunstroke, malaria, meningitis, blood poisoning and food poisoning. All of this reached a climax on the last day, when I was collecting people for the airport transfer.

Her curtains were closed. She didn't answer the door. When she finally did answer, the fetid stench of the room was horrific and she looked even worse than ever, green circles around her eyes and breath like a Frenchman. She hadn't even started to pack and the coach was waiting. She had meningitis and she needed a wheelchair.

I got her suitcase and tossed about half of her stuff into it (making sure to include bottles of suncrean and shampoo with no tops on) . No folding - I just threw it all in, kicking under the bed whatever I couldn't fit in. Then I kicked the case down the flight of concrete steps to the coach (while she hobbled behind me for maximun sympathy value).

At the airport, she asked for a wheelchair and a doctor. She got neither.
(frankspencer, Fri 5 Sep 2008, 10:22, 1 reply)

God Bless You, frank
*click*
(Caveat Emptor, Thu 11 Sep 2008, 1:33, closed)