Bloggin' With Bitchass

There's been gunplay in the WOT chatroom!

I'm sitting here in the waiting area of the local emergency room, and while I wait patiently for the doctor on duty to finish pumping a few stomachs, I thought I would write a little something to make you all aware of a serious situation that occurred in the chatroom this evening. And I know that sentence was too long, but screw it... I'm tired and my knee hurts. Change it yourself if it bothers you.

I was sitting at the computer earlier this evening, just minding my own business, when who staggers in but TracerBulletBilly, my boss. Now in case you haven't heard, Tracer is a private dick, and I'm jem, his Girl Friday. We chatted for awhile, mostly general office issues like why there wasn't enough toilet paper in the bathroom the day Tracer had that unfortunate incident with the bad bean burritos.

After I stopped laughing and rolling on the floor, we started discussing the status of the current background investigation into a mysterious Giantess named Gretchen. We got a little sidetracked when I had a really scary anxiety attack brought on by acute denialitis. I was right in the midst of complaining to Tracer that I was badly in need of a call to my therapist, Dr Princess Grace, when Tracer gets a call on his futuristic 2-way wrist radio. Seems that a very angry looking Giantess Gretchen had just been seen stomping on pedestrians over on Main Street in the area of the WOT chatroom.

Well, Tracer stopped my anxiety attack by slapping my face a bunch of times and says to me, "Sister, we need to get over to the WOT chatroom on the double! If she runs out of pedestrians to stomp, it may take us weeks to find her again! Go get us a cab quick!" So I run outside to the street to flag down a taxi, but nobody is stopping. So I hiked up my skirt and flashed my getaway sticks, which caused a twenty car pileup. This caused the rest of the traffic to stop. We hightailed it over to a taxi that only had minor damage, and off we went to look for the very large Giantess. Unfortunately, the two front wheels had come off during the crash, and it was pretty slow going. By the time we finally got to the WOT chatroom, the Giantess was nowhere to be seen.

Tracer decided that since he had already stiffed the cab driver with a $5 bill that was actually Monopoly money, we should probably not try to take the same cab back to the office, but instead, we would go into the WOT chatroom to snoop around a little. Once inside the room we ran into Miss Tara, a gorgeous brunette with great gams in sky-high heels, and Tracer decided then and there that this would be a good person to interrogate. This turned out to be a serious case of bad judgement on Tracer's part, because Miss Tara seemed to be getting more irritated with him by the minute, and pretty soon it was obvious that this interrogation was going to escalate way out of control. This is where I edged... err moved slowly over behind the couch and hid, and Tracer gets scared and tries to hide behind me. Miss Tara appears to be more than a match for Tracer, so I decide that this is where I need to switch sides. Self preservation is a very strong instinct in me. So I stand up, point to Tracer and tell Miss Tara "Here he is!" This causes Tracer to get a little angry at me and he pulls out one of his 45s and shoots me in the kneecap!

Getting shot in the knee kinda hurt my feelings a little so I hopped over to Tracer, kneed him in the groin, and yelled at him, "Who the hell is gonna pay for ruining these pantyhose? These babys cost me a whole $2.99 for a 3-pack!" While he was distracted, Miss Tara grabbed his other 45 and all hell broke loose! Bullets were flying every whichway, but luckily, neither of them was a very good shot, so nobody actually got hurt. Well, except for me, because my knee was starting to throb pretty good by then.

Well the interogation had pretty much broken down at this point, so Tracer just said "fuck it", and decided to clear Miss Tara of any and all suspicion in the matter. I don't know if she was involved or not, but I think Tracer was not about to tangle with her any more. Probably a good move on his part. So we found a cab that had all four wheels and went back to the office. I wanted to go to the emergency room to get them to take a look at my knee, but by then Tracer was out of Monopoly money, and so he made me hoof it the 10 blocks to the hospital. The cheap bastard.... see how soon I buy his toilet paper for him next time.

So that brings us back to the present. I've been here for 5 hours now, waiting for the sawbones to finish his nap. The knee has pretty much gone numb, so it hasn't been too painful except when I try to cross my legs. I'm just hoping to get out of here soon and back to the office so I can start filing my lawsuit against Tracer. My advice to you all is to let sleeping dogs lie and don't mess with Giantesses or angry brunettes in heels. Oh.... and don't bring firearms into chatrooms either, because I'm pretty sure it's against room rules.

Oh, and if you want to read my cheapskate boss's version of what happened, I guess you can look here.

little bitchass