24 Inches: A MFM Romantic Comedy

by Alexis Angel

  “Please do.” I sit up straight in my chair, looking into her eyes as I make sure I listen attentively to whatever she’s going to tell me.

  “Have you ever used any of my toys?” she asks me slyly, and I feel warm blood rushing to my face. “I see you did, good,” she continues, my embarrassment the only answer she needs. “Maybe you don’t know it, but my vibrator bullets do more than just vibrate.”

  “What do they do?”

  “Well, they do something that might help you out. You see, Penny, sometimes the truth is like a rotten tooth… It just lies there, uselessly, and you have to pull it out and bring it into the light, even if sometimes you have to use unsavory methods.” Then, grinning wickedly at me, she pauses for a few seconds for dramatic effect. “My bullet can help with that.”

  I look at her and her eyes sparkle.

  “It can record conversations,” Natalie says with a smile.

  I lean forward in my chair, suddenly feeling as if I’m conspiring with a woman I’ve known forever.

  “Tell me what to do.”

  The New York Daily Journal

  Reap What You Sow

  Gossip Central on Page Eight. From the Desk of Vicky Durner - All the gossip you never even knew you needed to know!

  Good morning Gotham.

  One week.

  That's what my spies are telling me is the length of time that the city's #1 Douchebag Magnus Davion has until his Board of Directors holds a session to evaluate whether he's fit to lead his company.

  I know it sounds like a big step and our hearts may go out to Magnus, but it's important to realize that we should only feel compassion for someone who deserves it.

  We really should not feel any sort of empathy for Mr. Davion—a serial breaker of hearts who has left a trail of women broken and battered in his wake. While there are no claims that he has ever raised a hand against them, I'm sure the emotional turmoil that he has caused women is plenty. We all know that the pen name Vicky Durner is used for the gossip columnist for Page Eight of the New York Daily Journal, but there are other reporters who write these articles. But one thing is for certain. Every single person involved with Gossip Central on Page Eight is unified in their complete and utter disdain for Magnus Davion.

  In fact, the whole scandal involving his stepdaughter, once the initial loathing wears off, isn't surprising.

  Leave it to Magnus Davion to only look at women as sex objects. Nothing more.

  Rather than cherish and celebrate his stepdaughter, what does he do instead?

  He treats her like he's treated every single woman in his life.

  A vehicle for satisfying his sexual desires.

  There's a lot to be said for the woman, Penny Wright, herself in these matters. I mean, we at the Gossip Desk understand that she used to work for us and that she's the daughter of the Editor-In-Chief, but who really sleeps with their stepfather? Who even tries to tempt someone into doing that?

  Was there two-directional flirting? Because if so, her feet deserve to be held closely to the fire as well.

  There's a word for people like her. Before it was not accepted to use it to describe women, we would use the following words.

  Slut.

  Harlot.

  Trollop.

  Tramp.

  Those are all adequate descriptions for a woman with the character and temperament to not only receive and welcome advances from her stepfather, but to actively seduce him as well.

  It is our sincere hope that the Equinox Tower project be pulled from Davion Development, and that Magnus Davion be exiled from the company he founded. Such a large and powerful company does not belong in the hands of that man.

  And who exactly is that man?

  An uncouth and barbaric man-child on his best of days.

  And a dangerous and scheming sexual predator who has the forked tongue to seduce an entire city on his worst of days.

  New York City is much better off without Magnus Davion.

  It's time the rest of us woke up to that reality. This man is nothing but the Devil himself.

  Penny

  I never thought I'd be here. Standing outside the Editor-In-Chief's office. After I'd been let go so unceremoniously.

  But there's no other option. There's no other choice in the matter.

  Magnus doesn't know that I'm here. I haven't told him. It's what I need to do. For Magnus.

  For our baby.

  The door opens and an Assistant Editor that I don't recognize walks out. Mom's been replacing a lot of the people in the top spots lately. But now it makes sense.

  What she's doing is pure and simple character assassination. And a lot of old hands at the Daily Journal wouldn't have stood for it. They'd have either refused to do what she was asking and been fired, or resigned.

  They certainly wouldn't be crawling back here for a desperate attempt at mercy.

  At least that's what it seems like to me—a desperate attempt—as I walk into Mom's office.

  No, she wasn't expecting me, okay. That's why she looks surprised. I didn't call ahead or do anything.

  "I need to talk to you, Mother," I tell her.

  She's silent. She wasn't expecting this.

  Good. Maybe I have the element of surprise. Maybe I can penetrate through that shell.

  "I need to tell you something," I say trying to draw strength from the silence.

  But it's like Mom reads my thoughts, you know?

  Because she breaks that silence with a simple, "What is it?"

  I take a sigh. And I say the words that I'd never thought I'd have to utter.

  "I'm sorry, mother," I say. Now she really is surprised and her eyes go wide. "I should've never crossed you in the first place."

  Mom looks at me in silence.

  "I should've done what you said when you said to do it, but I didn't," I tell her. "I should've realized the kind of monster that Magnus was."

  "That Magnus is," my mother says, bringing me back to the present tense. "He hasn't changed."

  I wince. This feels like a betrayal. Maybe if I say nothing then Mother will take my silence as consent.

  "But I don't know why you say such a thing, baby girl," Mom says in a sing-song voice as she stands up from her desk and walks around it. "Magnus is by all definitions, a perfect man."

  My eyes flash and I look to her. How can she say such things?

  I watch her as she walks to the door to her office and closes it.

  "He's handsome. He's kind. Gentle. With a generous and compassionate soul. He's fun. Distracting. Engaging. Lively. Irreverent, but when he falls in love with you, well, you better be holding onto something," she says, looking straight at me. "Am I right?"

  She's expecting an answer. But I can't answer. I came to beg for forgiveness and save Magnus. He would be enraged if he knew I was here.

  But I can't let that stop me.

  "I'm waiting for an answer, girl," Mom asks, harshly. "He's very easy to fall in love with, yes?"

  I sigh.

  I can't lie about this.

  I nod my head. "Yes," I say. "He is very easy to fall in love with."

  Mom smiles.

  "I know," she says. "That was the plan all along."

  I look to her. She has more surprises for me than I did for her.

  "Oh, Magnus was the perfect man for any woman," Mom says out loud, walking to the window to her office overlooking the hustle and bustle of Times Square. "But I never liked men. I never liked the man who was your father. I only married Magnus for his wealth and connections. I honestly don't know why he stayed with me."

  And then the part that shocks me the most.

  "We never even consummated the marriage. He never once stuck that fabulous cock that he must be pleasing you with inside of me. I never let him," Mom says.

  That can't be.

  Mom looks at me and I notice something for the first time.

  A complete lack of emotion. A lack of morals. Or compassion.

  It’s li
ke staring into a soulless pit of darkness.

  “Yes, girl, I lied to you the entire time. Magnus never once cheated on me. But you can figure that out by now that something didn’t add up, I’m betting,” she says to me with a cruel smile. “He was a fool to stay with me as long as he did once we married.”

  "But why did he marry me?" Mom asks, turning around. "Magnus, for all his good qualities is a simple soul. He fell in love with me."

  My heart catches.

  "Well at least he thought it was love. It was unrequited lust. He was young and I was scheming. I got him to marry me and I kept him at bay. We were only married for a very short time, as you remember, but he was kind and patient. He didn't want to rush me into the first time we had sex. What he didn't realize was that I was sleeping with Laurel every day and every night," Mom says, telling me with a smile. "He'd leave for the day and Laurel would come over at lunch and we would fuck in our bed. Maybe I wouldn't have done that if I liked men, but I was always about the women."

  I sigh deeply. It's frustrating and sad.

  But also very, very scared.

  This person who is in front of me is finally the true nature of my mother.

  There was always flashes of her cold, calculating visage that’s on display for me now. Times that it came out only to be shrouded again as she put on her facade.

  But this is the most dangerous form of psychopath. She knows exactly what she’s doing. She has no compunction against right or wrong. She knows on a rational level that she’s in the wrong - but it doesn’t affect her at all.

  Perhaps the most dangerous form of evil ever. I need to get the hell out of here.

  "At first, Magnus tried to work through it,” Mom recollects to herself as well as me. “He tried to save what he didn't realize was a sham of a marriage," Mom continues. "I think he liked the idea of a family, Penny."

  Who wouldn't?

  Right, don't answer that.

  "But eventually he saw the light and realized he had to get rid of me. Laurel and I always knew it was a gamble and that we couldn't ensnare Magnus forever, but we were surprised by how cleanly and without emotion he was able to move past me," Mom replies. "And how neatly he removed me from the money that Laurel and I were expecting from the divorce settlement."

  So that was it. Could this whole thing come down to something so tawdry and evil as trying to siphon money through a divorce?

  "I mean, Laurel was supposed to run for Governor with that money," Mom explains matter-of-factly, as if this justifies her behavior.

  "But Magnus didn't want to play ball, so we have to destroy him instead," Mom finishes. Then she adds as an aside, "It's too bad, really. But that's the way the world works."

  How can one woman be so fucking evil?

  Don't answer that. You won't be able to, hun. This is literally the most bored I've ever seen my mother, you know?

  Like she doesn't care that she's about to destroy this man's life.

  That she's about to destroy the life of my baby by taking away his father;

  I can't let that happen.

  I can't let this slide.

  "You won't get away with this," I say quietly.

  Mom looks at me and her eyes flash with an evil glint. "Not so sad that you crossed me now, are you, Penny dear?" she asks me.

  "You think you're going to stop me?" she asks taking a step closer.

  "I can't let you destroy an innocent man's life just because he had the misfortune to get duped by you, Mom," I say with gritted teeth. "I'll tell everyone what you just told me."

  "And who do you think will believe you?" Mom asks. "Who do you think will believe an out of work journalist who is also a petulant child over her mother who is an Editor-In-Chief of the largest newspaper in the country and the mayor of New York City?"

  But she forgets.

  I have the bullet that Natalie invented.

  The one with the recorder. I'm wearing it.

  I smile.

  I mean, you didn't expect such deviousness from me, did you? Well, when you're playing the stakes that I'm playing for, you gotta up your game. Or something like that.

  Mom's eyes travel down my body and she takes a step closer.

  "Or do you think I don't know that you're wearing a little bullet in your cooch?" she asks me.

  What.

  The.

  Fuck.

  I can't move. Mom flashes a smile.

  "You think you're recording this?" she asks me. "You don't know that my computer flashed the moment you walked in a picture that showed where you had a recording device? That I turned on a white noise machine. That all you recorded is garbage noise?"

  I'm shaking.

  I don't know what to say.

  I feel an utter sense of defeat. My last card.

  “I knew you'd try something like this ever since you met that bitch Natalie,” Mom continues on.

  Oh my God. What is going on here?

  Is she following me?

  "Ever since you left work here I've had you followed, in case you were wondering," Mom confirms for me. "You think you're clever, girl, you have no idea how out of your league you are."

  I'm shaking. She's defeated me. Completely.

  "Now go, and get out of my sight before I decide to destroy you as well."

  I want to leave, but my knees don't move.

  "Go and get the fuck out of my office, daughter," she says with the grating and harsh voice of a monster.

  Holding back tears, I get my knees to move and get out.

  Magnus

  It's like the fucking world is going to Hell and someone gave me a front row ticket to the carnage.

  This morning, coming into work for Davion Development, two people stopped to hiss at me. Who the fuck hisses at people anymore? I just kept walking. It wasn't really worth my time to stop and deal with a hisser.

  I mean just the thought of someone hissing ... is fucking strange, something that I associate with a snake or some other reptile. Not sure about whether I really equate that with things that humans do.

  But then again these New Yorkers on the street probably think I'm some sort of snake at this point considering the kind of press I've been getting.

  I mean Jesus Christ, if the President thinks that the news media is against him, imagine a hundred fucking times worse. It's like someone got all the fucking newspapers and cable channels and broadcast news and every sort of nickel and dime journalist and told them that they should go out there and come up with the slimiest shit that they could think of to get me.

  I mean, I never really trusted the news media. Does anyone in this country anymore?

  Do you?

  Sure, they're not all bad. And they're human beings too. I'm not saying that they individually are bad people. They probably have families and they don't eat babies or whatever the fuck.

  But combined together they're a fucking mob. And they're out to get me.

  You should see some of the shit that's been coming out since this whole thing broke.

  I mean, I know you've seen some of the stuff and Penny's been talking to you every other chapter, but I don't think she even keeps track of some of this shit.

  And it's a good thing too, because if she did...I mean, fuck, I don't know how she would take it.

  I mean, yesterday the Daily Journal said something like, "Magnus Davion: Should He Be Allowed To Live Near Schools?"

  Can you believe that shit?

  The reasoning?

  Apparently because I had known Penny when she was 18 years old I must've had something for her. Like I planned this whole thing. Like I built a multi-billion dollar real estate empire that culminated in the purchase of the New York Nailers that led me to cum on that one cheerleader's face. Apparently that was all a plan to get the attention of the Page Eight Gossip Column for the New York Daily Journal and that somehow led me to my ex-stepdaughter who I then proceeded to fuck.

  Right.

  But you haven't heard the best one yet.
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  Apparently, I'm a spy sent over from the fucking Russians. That's right. So I guess I work for the Russians now and my job is to corrupt American values. Apparently I'm doing that by having hot fucking sex with my stepdaughter and flaunting it everywhere. Somewhere along the line, my goal was apparently to build the Equinox Towers and then flaunt my lack of morals from there. I have no idea how they drew that leap but it's clear that whoever was writing that piece was writing something they didn't really believe and were doing halfheartedly.

  It doesn't take a genius to guess who is pushing the buttons at the New York Daily Journal.

  I mean, come on. Anyone else in the city you know that can arrange that many media elites together and herd them in the same direction?

  It's like the New York Daily Journal comes up with a story and then the other newspapers run it. And shortly after the newspaper comes up with the story and the other newspapers copy it, the cable news channels and local news pick it up and run with it and before you know it the whole fucking thing is a story by itself.

  What else is there? Aside from being a Russian spy with a tendency to fuck stepdaughters, I've apparently been cheating my business associates. I've been stealing from my company and shortchanging my fucking employees.

  I've also been allegedly constructing buildings with cheap and shoddy materials. That's a new one. So the fact that they withstood earthquakes while everything around them collapsed is just too much of a coincidence, huh?

  Don't worry; I'm not angry at you. I'm just pissed the fuck off at the situation.

  If it were just me, I would tell the fucking press to go fuck themselves. I could care less and I'd just weather it by pulling out my cock and taking a piss on their fucking shoes.

  That's what I do. That's how I roll.

  But I can't do that.

  Because for the first time, I care about someone more than I care about myself.