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The Problem with Mitzie (Pt. 2)
by Adam Kluger




Blake Schnellenberger had to admire Mitzie Kerfuffle a little bit.

Almost as much as he feared her ability to fuck up everything he worked so hard for. Mitzie had an uncanny knack of finding a loose thread and pulling it.  Bad news. Tonight she was drunk as usual and the conversation devolved further and further.

What Blake wanted to tell her was don't ever fuck with ME ever again.

Blake could feel Mitzie's pain deep inside because he knew what that felt like. To feel alone and scared and pissed off and hopeless and helpless and wanting to dig out of that hole, that quicksand with every fiber.

The problem with Mitzie is she was fearless. Mitzie unscrewed the top of the bottle.

Glug glug glug.

Her heard spasmed involuntarily as she grimaced at the awful taste of the cheap vodka that kicked like a mule and filled her belly with fire. Pushing 45. That door was almost closed. She looked at the mirror and then took the empty bottle and chucked it at the wall. Precious Boo Boo Kitty let out a loud hiss. It was time to do what Mitzie had been doing every waking minute for months...check-in on Montgomery's social media posts. Her teeth gnashed as she saw his latest post. An article on internet dating.


Then she erased it and went to her FB page and wrote, To quote the immortal Leonard Cohen-"-halle-fucking lujah!" I am reborn...then she texted Blake...he was always nice.

[Text: Blakie, I've been at SharkPool for more than 3 months do you think I should talk to Bob about getting a raise and change in title?]

[Text: IDK Mitzie, It took me a couple of years to get the top spot and I had to pay my dues and then some...dealing with a family situation right now...sorry...maybe we could talk during the week?]

[Text: I'm not saying you got the job handed to you Blake-- I just feel like Bob doesn't take me seriously and I've got a lot of ideas... should I text him?]

[Text: Definitely NOT. Mr. Beauregarde already told me he is tired of getting texts and emails from you all the time and he made that clear in no uncertain terms... He threatened to fire all of us if you keep texting him all the time. It's Sunday night Mitzie. He has a family]

[Text: What are you fucking afraid of Bob? Is that why you kiss Montgomery's weasly ass all the time.]

[Text: Mitzie, I'm dealing with family stuff right now but trust me when I tell you this, if you cross the line with me again with another disrespectful text, I will handle your problems with SharkPool myself. I don't need to get drawn into your bad drama with Montgomery and I certainly don't want to work with anyone who disrespects me or is disloyal]

[Text: I hate that little prick Montgomery so much Blake he promised me things and then... and then.. showed his true colors... all yellow -- a total coward... I'm going to quit this lousy newsletter too...God bless you, Blake, you are the only good person in the bunch and also Ethel, she's a sweetheart too...]

[Text: and another thing Mitzie I'm not afraid of Mr. Beauregarde, I just respect protocols and boundaries... I wish you would too.]

[Text: Fuck that Blake-- If I see that little motherfucker Montgomery at the water-cooler I'm going to kick him in the balls and scratch out his eyes... do you think I was raised to be treated like a putana who gets fucked and thrown away like a piece of garbage? I have more self-pride than that. I was the leader of my girl scout troop and I was voted most likely to star in a reality show by my high school class. I don't give a fuck about protocols -- I want to get paid and I want Montgomery fired.

[Text: I can't do this right now Mitzie-- like I said it's Sunday night and I am dealing with bigger problems than your lover's quarrel...and as far as I know, there are absolutely no grounds to fire Montgomery. If there is anybody who deserves to be let go because of improper behavior it's you Mitzie... I can't keep warning you--no more bothering Mr. Beauregarde]

[Text: Blake that little prick Montgomery tried to fuck me in the backdoor... can you believe that shit? Did he think I was some sort of prostitute? I'm a good girl. I don't do that for anybody but my husband when I find him... [sobbing] that kid's a total skeevy perv. He should be fired for trying to rape me Blake... He wanted to sodomize me [sobbing] who does that on a second date?]

[Text: Jeez, I'm sorry Mitzie... I know you are upset...maybe just calm down, wash your face with cold water, take a walk or something... it's not good to get so worked up.]

[Text: we are in my bed and he flips me over on my hands and knees like a dog Blake... and then all of a sudden I feel his finger in my asshole... he put some KY on it thank G-d for that but I seriously think he wanted to do me in the shitter... who does that Blake... I wanted to give this kid babies and make him meatloaf  and potatoes my family recipe, and have a nice life together... he fucked it all up and now when I see his smarmy little smile all I can think of is how I want to bash him in his mother-fucking face Blake... he's no better than a fucking Harvey Weinstein or Jeffrey Epstein in my book, Blake]

[Text: Ok, listen Mitzie, Let's talk tomorrow when you aren't so upset... from what you are describing and this is definitely not my business and definitely not anything that I should be dragged into... your relationship with Montgomery... sounds like it started off as a consensual situation and then took a bad turn... you are both adults and you both...]

[Text: My ass Blake... that little weasel tried to fuck my ass with his tiny little prick... Madone!... Blake would you ever do that to a proper lady?]

[Text: Mitzie: I'm sorry I'm going to have to go... I'm not comfortable with you discussing your personal life like this with me--it puts me in a very awkward position. I'm sympathetic to you and I think you have a number of terrific qualities but I'm not the person to speak to about this sort of stuff.]

[Text; That's fine Blake-- I'll just call Bob and tell him his social media "expert", golden boy Montgomery tried to stick his tiny pecker in his top reporter's bunghole... would you like that, Blake since you are always so busy?]

[Text: Mitzie, you're not a reporter, you are a production associate and don't threaten me... and if you keep bothering Mr. Beauregarde he will fire the whole lot of us. He said exactly that to me regarding your crazy texts...]

[Text: My texts are crazy? I'm not the one sticking a finger up somebody else's brown starfish Blake... I think Bob would love to know his Social Media Golden Boy is a frickin pervert.]

[Text: Mitzie, If you want to go ahead and get everybody fired including yourself, Go right ahead...I gotta go.]

[Text: You're right Blakie, I had too much to drink and I feel like hurling... God bless you, Blake, you are one of the good ones I am so blessed to have you in my life-If only I could punch that weasly motherfucker in the face I would be fine.]

[Text: OK ...feel better... take a cold shower and drink water...sounds like you are having a rough night.]

[Text: I love you so much Blake you are like my guardian angel]

[Text: no problem, Mitzie get some sleep and feel better]

[Text: Kissy Face emoji]

[Text: Thumbs up emoji]

Blake turned off his phone, walked to the kitchen, popped the top on a cold beer and sat at the kitchen table shaking his head.




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