u trendy kids and ur fancy formatting and ur boarders i mean back in my day we slapped on a gif with some random text and called it a starter
I have a few copies of “Playboy” from the 1970s stashed away somewhere. One of them has a letter where a guy writes in saying, “I met this really gorgeous, sweet woman, and we were planning to get married, but she sat me down yesterday and told me that she had a sex change before she met me. Mr. Hefner, should I marry someone who used to be a man?” and the response was, “So she had a sex change, big whoop. Would you be asking this question if she’d made any other change in her life before she met you? You love the woman she is now, and that’s all that should matter. If you want kids you can adopt or something.”
I feel so conflicted right now
That awkward moment when Hugh Hefner is more trans-positive than most feminists of the same era.
"Listen I’m not here to play games with you…now..where’s sally?"
"It may be the work of the artist to answer, but that doesn’t mean I care to divulge my knowledge… Genius must stick together, you know… Besides, even if, perchance, I did happen to know something, why on earth would I share it with you?…
"Because if you don’t, I wont hesitate in setting those powdered locks of yours alight…you forget…you’re the one tied to a chair…now talk”
I rolled my eyes, sneering at the brunette before me. “You’re talking to a man who was tortured for three months within the confines of the Bastille… I shared a cell with the Marquis de Sade… Just try me, Elizabeth… An artist never sells out his friends…”
"So you do know them..” Elizabeth sneered coldly “I had hoped you would be as back stabbing as most of your kind are…but clearly not… I don’t care about what kind of past you’ve had…I only care about the girl….now…where is she?”
"It must be depressing…” I said, laughing as a smirk crossed my face. “Does it sadden you, knowing that this brat of yours is probably dead, or worse… There are sick, depraved men out there… My innocence was robbed of me at the age of fourteen… I wouldn’t put it past someone to do the same to an eight-year-old…”
Grinning wickedly, I stared directly at the brunette, crossing my legs and reclining as best I could in the chair. “I may be strapped to this piece of furniture, but it’s you who’s trapped, Elizabeth… You see, I could care less what happens to Sally, but you… You’ve got something to lose… *chuckles* And to think, I might have told you something if you had only asked nicely…”
Elizabeth grimaced at the thought of such a vile act. But even more so at the thought of such twisted people getting their sordid hands on such an untainted little girl. “Asking nicely…doesnt get you anything in this hellhole…” Elizabeth felt her chest deflated in defeat. She wasn’t going to gain anything if she continued addressing the coddled manipulator with such a sharp tongue.
"Fine…we’ll do this your way…" Elizabeth huffed reluctantly , having to suppressed the aggressive growl that she wished to reply with. She turned her slender waisted and crushed her cigarette onto the elaborate coat that was laid like a trophy animal over her chair. She had made sure to check the composer’s coat before he gained consciousness , however this search proved unyielding. The cigarette left a small perfectly circular hole in the fabric of the coat, it would serve as a vivid reminder of the nights events if the twisted maestro managed to escape.
"Now…tell me..how exactly did you meet Cohen?"
"Ahh, ahh, ahh… The question is not how, but why… You see, on that fateful February afternoon, we had both been rejected by those miserable abominations known as critics… As such, we both took refuge in the same bar… We got to talking after the bartender accidentally swapped our drink orders… Sander and I had much in common… Soon we-…”
I paused, glancing at the cigarette burn on my coat through narrowed lids. My eyes flicked upwards as I focused my gaze on the brunette standing before me. “That was custom-made… I hope you’re happy… I expect to receive some sort of compensation when this little interview of yours has reached its inevitable conclusion…”