Fitty of Pink: A Parody

by Faythe America

  But God damn! Enough about sea turtles! I wasn’t a freaking crustacean! Fuck! Triple crap fuck! Cut myself on an oyster shell! How was I going to get inside?

  Only one way! I leaned forward and used my thinking brain super hard.

  Okay. When I scratched its right ear, it went left. When I scratched its left ear, it tried to fucking kill me. The tower was on my right. Fuck! How could I do this?

  Wait, maybe if I scratched its right ear twice, it would go left, because two lefts make a right!

  Hell yeah! That’s just fucking science! Or math! Or something!

  Feeling like hot shit, I scratched that right fucker.

  Only I’d just realized I’d forgotten my lefts and rights.

  Triple shit!

  The horse cackled. Fuck! I didn’t know it could do that! And raced towards the window of the tower.

  FUUUUUCK!!!!!!!!!

  The horse jumped up on top of a love bug and leaped over the newsstand, the hot dog stand, and the little old woman who was standing with her walker, through the window.

  Her pink hooves kicked down that window.

  Glass flew everywhere! Kind of like glitter, but this was glitter that could make you fucking bleed. Glitter that could fucking kill you. Hardcore sparkles, man! Someone sacrifice a pineapple! Fuck! We put pineapples and hot dogs on pizza now! Hawaiian doggie style with extra cheese, XL, be there in forty-five!

  The horse landed on the table. Right on top of Mr. Pink’s special legal documents.

  Mr. Pink looked up. “Unicorn,” he whispered.

  Um, what?

  Wait! Holy shit! When the horse had mowed through that kid eating ice cream, the cone had gotten stuck to its forehead. It looked like a unicorn! Alright, so its horn wasn’t solid gold, but it was solid waffle cone! And do you know what? After everything that had happened, it seemed a little magical.

  Double heartwarming crap!

  I glanced at Mr. Pink again. He looked…sad….but he freaking loves unicorns! And horses! What the Hell?

  “Oh Maggie,” he whimpered. “Oh, glorious waffle-cone unicorn. Never in my life did I think I’d see such beauty. Why did you have to come to me now, in my darkest, most humiliating hour? I am not worthy!”

  Huh?

  That was when I saw the man next to Mr. Pink.

  He had his dick out, on the table. Fuck! It was huge! I mean, no where near as huge as Mr. Pink’s, but he had the goods to back up that smug look on his face. Fuck face! What was wrong with Mr. Pink? His junk was so much junkier! Why didn’t he flap that shit out?

  Oh yeah, unicorn key chain! He needed his sparkly spinach! But…what kind of compost would come out if the unicorn ate it instead? Well, since it had a waffle horn, probably waffle flowers! Fuck, I want some now!

  The other man was looking over at Mr. Pink. “It looks like today is the day the great Mr. Pink finally falls! Hahahahaha,” he cackled softly, rubbing his hands. “All great men must step down some day, Mr. Pink. You burned too brightly, too fast. You’re all burned out! The company is mine!”

  Holy crap! Shit was going down!

  The entire company? Oh no! If Mr. Pink didn’t slap his dick down…

  “Now, will someone please get this fucking horse out of here?” The man with his dick out yelled. “This is an important business meeting. I don’t believe we should let the plebes in!”

  Plebes? No! I was Mr. Pink’s important special somebody! Mr. Pink should totally tell that asshole off!

  I looked at Mr. Pink. He had his head in his hands.

  Fuck! Sparkly spinach! That’s why I rode the fucking horse here. “Mr. Pink!” I shouted as men started to surround the waffle-unicorn. I grabbed the unicorn key chain from my pocket and threw it to him.

  His eyes perked up. He stood, closing his fist around the unicorn. Then he put it in his pocket. “This meeting isn’t over yet.”

  All the men who had been circling me stopped. The man with his dick out started to shiver, and his dick shrank a bit, no longer engorged from the knowledge that it was sure in its victory. “What do you mean? You didn’t whip it out! You didn’t— ”

  He unzipped his pants and slammed his cock onto the pile of legal documents. “That girl, over there, is my bitch. You got a problem with that?”

  Mr. Pink picked up his dick again and slammed the fuck out of that table. Fuck! His dick was like a freaking HUGE meat cleaver! It broke the table two. It shred the legal documents. They spun around him like confetti, and the glass all around the room reflected his dick.

  The other man cried out, his dick retreating into his pants. “Please forgive me, sir! I did not know! I did not understand!”

  Mr. Pink smirked as he looked at me. “I trust the table is broken to your satisfaction, Mistress.”

  “Fuck yeah! I’m freaking stopping at the grocery store to get more Nutego!”

  Mr. Pink glanced over at the man he’d just epically pwned. “Remember this the next time you meet me one-on-one for a business transaction. And remember this: My dick gets bigger with every victory, and I’ve never lost.”

  Fuck! How the hell was I going to be able to take it in my cunt if it kept getting bigger?

  “Now, Miss Sterling. My attendants shall escort your magnificent steed and your magnificent self to my private quarters. I’ll send someone out for Nutego and, when we meet again soon, don’t go easy on me, or my ass.”

  Chapter 23

  I left Mr. Pink’s private quarters. I couldn’t stay there. Not any longer. I went outside instead, to the streets, to the people, to the plebes. I let Jelly Button ride off into the sunset alone, or rather, she just took off when we got outside. Oh well. Jonas would find her. Probably.

  Goodbye, Jelly-welly! You hated me, but you saved my most beloved person! How will I ever thank you? How about I don’t, because you really freak me out.

  I sat down on the sidewalk and waited and waited until freaking finally “Mr. Important” decided to show his face.

  He crouched beside me, his shadow eclipsing mine. “Maggie,” he whispered, taking my hands. “You came, riding in on a white unicorn, my goddess of strength and beauty, my savior.”

  “Uh, yeah. That’s me.” Triple fuck! It wasn’t me! I wasn’t a goddess! Downgrade down to double fuck! How could I say what I needed to say next? Ugh! There was no good way to do this! I cleared all the phlegm out of my throat the words I’d been holding back erupted from my mouth: “I can’t do this anymore.”

  His bottom lip wiggled. “What?”

  “I just can’t.”

  “You can’t what? Find the Nutego?” His eyes began to water. “I said I’d send someone out to get it for us—”

  “No, that isn’t it!” I interrupted, my voice to sharp, my cheeks hot, my throat closing as if some invisible first were wrapped around it. “You know what I mean. I can’t do this. With you. Not anymore.”

  “But why? Maggie, I….”

  “Stop. Just stop. It doesn’t matter what you say. I don’t want to hear it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Just because! I mean, holy hot dogs, do I need a reason? I’m poorly written! The plot demands it!”

  He stared at me, unshed tears twinkling along his bushy eyelashes.

  “Fuck, do I really need to explain this? There needs to be a cliffhanger to set-up book 2, and if there isn’t enough demand for a book 2, then there still needs to be a cliffhanger so that the author can share her pain from not making enough money!”

  I stood. He stood up after me, grabbing my sleeve. “But I thought this book didn’t have a plot!” He bellowed. “I thought this was written so average women could live out their fantasy of being swept off their feet by a billionaire vicariously through you! It’s my job to shower you with gifts! To give you hot, incredible, unforgettable sex! To reveal my deepest, darkest secrets that I’ve never told anyone before, because despite my steely exterior, inside, I’m a pure, pink puffball!”

  I looked away.

  “Come on,
Maggie. Wasn’t the sex incredible? Let’s go fuck. Let me love away your worries…”

  “I know the sex is incredible! God, it’s fucking amazing!” I spun around, hair whipping across my face. “And you’re amazing too, but it’s just not that simple! You and I can’t just be together because we love each other and have hot, incredible, unforgettable sex!”

  “Why not? Hearing you say that makes no sense!”

  He reached out to me. I slapped him away. “I already told you! It doesn’t matter how we feel! The plot demands it!”

  “But…why? Why? Maggie, please tell me!”

  I turned away, unable to look at him any more. “Sequel bait.”

  The admission left a bitter taste in my mouth. My stomach recoiled. My head pounded.

  He stepped back. “No,” he whispered. “No. I won’t believe it.”

  “It’s true,” I croaked. My eyes burned from unshed tears. “We have to stretch out the story as long as possible so we can make more money!”

  “But readers hate cliffhangers! Why make people wait months and months for the ending?”

  I slapped away his hands. “Do you think I don’t know that? Do you really think I don’t understand what you’re saying? I know cliffhangers are awful. You hate them. Readers loathe them! Especially when the author holds back answers just for the sake of getting them to buy the next installment, like what the fuck was going on with those hot dogs, whether or not you’re really a zombie master or just fucking insane, and why the Interior Goddess is even part of this story!

  “I know cliffhangers are awful! I know this, in the cavity in my skull that should house a brain, but in reality just contains clichéd reactions to clichéd scenarios. Even though readers hate them, and know the author is just fucking with them, they can’t help but give in, because they’re invested in the story!”

  “No!” Mr. Pink cried. “People won’t fall for such a cheap emotional trick!”

  “Oh, they’ll rage, but they’ll buy the next one, even if we price it at…$10.99!”

  “No, don’t say it! Don’t abandon your values! Think of your fans!”

  “I know!” I cried, falling to my knees. I tore out my hair and raised my fists to the sky. “An ebook should never cost that much…BUT THEY DO!!!”

  Mr. Pink collapsed beside me, holding me in his arms, and our hearts beat as one, furiously, staggeringly, painfully, trying to stand against our fate.

  “Don’t do it,” he whispered, lips caressing my hairline. “I love you!”

  “I can’t help it!” I wailed. “I’m just so…poorly written!”

  “No. You can’t let the author do this to us! You must fight against it. Force her to acknowledge your feelings!”

  “She doesn’t care about my feelings!” I slurred. “Because she’s a fucking sadist and so are the people who consume mass media! No one wants to read a story about two people who just have a good time because happiness is boring! They only read to watch us suffer!”

  “Why? Why are they so mean?” He whimpered. “I just want happiness with you! A boring, uneventful, happy life! That’s all I want! That’s all I’ve ever wanted!”

  “It can never be,” I whispered. “I mean, shit, look at how she’s treated us already! All you want to do is cuddle in your snugy and play with unicorn dolls, but she made you a fucking corporate takeover artist! She made me a car mechanic, but I don’t know anything about cars!”

  He leaned back. “No.”

  I rolled over, crying. “It’s true. My love of cars defines me, especially since the fact I love them proves I’m not just some simpering girlie girl but an independent, thoughtful, unique woman. But do you know what? She didn’t even research anything about being a car mechanic before she wrote me! So I look like a fucking idiot because the car I built broke down and I couldn’t fix it even though it was my pride and joy. I mean, fuck! MY LIFE’S WORK BROKE DOWN AFTER FIFTEEN MINUTES!”

  Mr. Pink waved his hands in the air even though he totally cared. “Oh, say it ain’t so!”

  “It is so! And you know it because…she wrote you that way too!”

  “No. I won’t believe it. You’re not just a Mary Sue who works as a car mechanic to show that she’s different even though she has absolutely no knowledge about cars! Show the author that you’re more!”

  I take a step forward, and fall on my face.

  “No, not that way! Show her you’re a flawed, interesting, perceptive being, not just a loveable klutz!”

  “But I can’t! My clumsiness is my only flaw! If it wasn’t for that I’d be completely…BLAND!”

  “No. You’re more than that. I know you’re more. Your interior goddess…”

  “Is just some crazy crap the author cooked up? Do you even know what that means?”

  He swallowed.

  “See!” I yelled. “We say things and even we don’t know why we’re saying them, or what they mean! And even though we know we’re being a ridiculous caricature, we can’t stop! Oh God, I’m trapped in this nightmare and there’s no way out!”

  “Fight against it! Hold me, baby. Together, we can do anything! Take comfort in our love, the only thing that’s real in this world!”

  I held him, but I found no comfort in his arms. “Oh God! Is this love between us just a lie?” I wailed.

  “I can’t believe it. I feel for you so much. Just put your hand down my pants and feel how much I feel for you!”

  “That doesn’t mean you really love me! You don’t know me! Do either of us really know each other at all? We don’t even know ourselves! We don’t even have character!”

  Mr. Pink fell over onto the sidewalk. “Oh God! Get me out of here! Wake me up from this nightmare!” He reached out to me, his hand opening and closing in a futile fist again and again. Or maybe he just wanted to twist my titties so that we could make the bed spin around again.

  But there was no bed! Double hot pink shit! There was nothing but this emptiness! Unable to take any more, I ran away. And he just watched me run, screaming “NO!”, even though he was totally a faster runner than I was, and could have caught up with me.

  And, perhaps, the greatest tragedy was that he couldn’t even force himself to get up and grab hold of the thing that he loved most in this world, because the plot had already determined it would be best for me to look away and, even though my heart was breaking…

  …to never look back.

  Epilogue

  Faythe set down her pen. Damn, she was good. Who wouldn’t want to dominate a CEO in the fastest growing corporation in the world while he wore a snugy? snugy sex was fucking hot. And fucking genius, she congratulated herself.

  But what was up with all that weird stuff at the end? Why did her character say she was ‘poorly written’? Faythe had bled and sweat and cried for these characters! She loved Maggie as if Maggie were her real best friend! What had they meant when they’d said they had no true motivations…?

  You know what? Fuck it! Fuck motivations! You do what I say, bitch! Faythe thought. Besides, characters in fiction didn’t really have a real life, right? I mean, it wasn’t like they were self aware.

  But still, they had some good suggestions. Had to give them props for wanting to end on a cliffhanger. Also, $10 ebooks? Faythe cackled with delight!

  Just then, Maggie burst through the door.

  “Dude,” Faythe said, swiveling in her chair. “You will not believe how much work I just got done. It has the most incredible ending I’ve ever made, if I do say so myself. You see, the main character—”

  “We broke up,” Maggie whispered.

  Faythe spun around. “What?”

  “Mr. Pink and I. We broke up.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I don’t know. Oh God, Faythe, why does it hurt so much? What am I gonna do?”

  “Oh sweetie…”

  “I just…” she threw herself into her pillows. “I just want to die!”

  “Then why did you break up with him?”

 
She shook her head, and then stuffed it back into a pillow. “I can’t talk about it! It’s too horrible to even talk about!”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “I know! Nothing makes sense anymore! I don’t make sense! Why do I have to exist? Why was I even created? WHY???”

  “Oh sweetie.” Faythe moved over and rubbed Maggie’s shoulder. And as she did, she wondered why Maggie’s tears sounded like an endless stream of golden coins clinking into her pockets…

  THE END!!!!!

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  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue