Chris Vs The Militant Feminists: Part 2: Return of the Militant Feminists

Previously on Chris Vs The Militant Feminists:

I was kidnapped by three crazy women who thought I was somebody I’m not, and the craziest of the crazy bee-yotches decided to beat the living hell out of me.  Am I going to make it through?  Let’s find out!

There was no way around it.  I was trapped.  I was stuck in a chair, being pummeled by a redheaded Mountain Woman whose fists seemed to get harder with each devastating blow.  The blonde and the brunette stood silent, watching as their sister-in-arms had her way with me (and not in a good way).

I wasn’t getting out of that dank basement unless one of my captors let me go. It was clear they didn’t believe that I just happened to be looking for clothes hangers in the dumpster behind the Walmart that night (even though that’s a very normal thing to do), and even if they did believe me, it wouldn’t have mattered.  These she-devils hated men and not even my award-worthy charisma could get them on my side.  I was going to die in that basement, but I was going to let these bee-yotches (wow, I use that word a lot) know exactly what I thought of them before I did.

Me:  You know, Red, you really hit like a girl.

Redhead:  You snivel like a coward.

Me:  That’s not a very ladylike thing to say.

Redhead:  No?  How’s this for ladylike?

The redhead took a break from pounding me in the face and stomped my groin a couple times.  I could try to paint you a word picture to explain how it felt, but I think plain language will describe it best.  It was like getting stomped in the balls.  Twice.

Me:  Thanks for that.  You helped take my mind off your disgusting face.

Brunette:  Watch your tone.  We could make this much worse for you.

Me:  Yeah, I bet.  Listen, is there someone around here who’s in charge?  You know?  Like a man?

Blonde:  What?  You think that because we’re women we can’t be in charge?  You think that we can’t think for ourselves?

Me:  No.  I just assumed because you’re a blonde…

Just as the Mountain Woman was about to strike me again, a slender man in a grey three-piece suit and shiny black gloves walked in the room.  The three women turned toward him as he entered.

Brunette:  Great Leader, we found this cretin snooping around back.

Me:  Your “Great Leader” is a man?  What kind of feminists are you?

Brunette:  Shut up!

Blonde:  Great Leader, it looked like he was searching for the secret entrance.

Me:  Secret entrance?  What is this, the Bat Cave?

The redhead responded by embedding her fist into the bridge of my nose before I could start giggling at my own wit.

Great Leader:  Hush, baby.  You don’t need to hurt your hand on his face.

Redhead:  He just makes me so mad, Great Leader.

Me:  Anyone have a tampon I can borrow?  My nose is bleeding a fair bit.  No?  Not one of you?  Well, I guess it’s not that time of the month.  Have your cycles synched yet?  Does that really happen?

Brunette:  See, Great Leader? He is a monster, just like the rest of them.

Great Leader:  Yes, I can see that.

The so called “Great Leader” kneeled down in front of me and stared at my face. With all the bashing I had taken, I’m sure it was a pretty sight.

Great Leader:  So who are you, stranger?  How do you know about us?

I was exhausted.  I had no interest in trying to explain to this jerk who I was or what I was doing.

Me:  I think it’s pretty obvious I’m a spy who was sent here by a covert organization set on oppressing women around the world.

Redhead:  I knew it!

Me:  Of course you did.  You are FEMME after all.  Females who are Employed, Maybe… something something jerks.

I was losing a lot of blood, so my usually sharp tongue was starting to lose its edge.

Great Leader:  Well, my pretties.  He’s rather lippy, isn’t he?  But don’t worry.  He’ll see things our way very soon.

The Great Leader pulled something out of his pocket that looked like a small micro chip.  He squeezed it between his fingers and it started to blink with a red light.

Great Leader:  Do you know what this is?  This, simply put, is a mind control device.  I’ve got one on each of the ladies here.  Right at the base of the neck.  It makes them do what I want, when I want.  And believe me when I tell you, I make them do what I want all the time, if you catch my meaning.

The room went silent for a brief moment before someone spoke again.

Blonde:  Wait, what?

Brunette:  Did you just say you’ve been mind controlling us?

Great Leader:  Uh… No?

Me:  I guess the chip doesn’t make them listen only when you want them to, does it?  Christ.  Men really are stupid, aren’t we?

Great Leader:  Shut up!  Umm… Where did I put the master control?

As the Great Dumbass fumbled through his pockets looking for the device, the Mountain Woman launched at him, crashing on top of me.  The chair I was sitting on shattered as we all fell to the ground. During the struggle I was able to pull out of my restraints.  I rolled over to a wall and watched as the redhead, the blonde and the brunette started punching, kicking and clawing at the man in the suit.  Eventually, he scrambled to his feet and ran out the door.

Great Leader:  Oh no!  Everything’s ruined!  My plan!  My beautiful plan!

All three women looked at each other for a moment before reaching behind their heads’ in unison.  Each one pulled the mind control device from the base of their neck, dropped them on the ground, and stomped the hell out of them.  Then they focussed their attention on me.

Blonde:  My head feels so much clearer.  Like a fog has lifted out of my brain.  Oh my God.  What have we done?

Brunette:  We’re so sorry.  He tricked us!  We started our group to help women manage the stresses of work and family.  He said we could do more.  All we wanted to do was make the world a little better for our daughters.  We never intended to hurt anyone.

Redhead:  When he joined our group he said he understood the pressures faced by women.  He said he wanted to help us.  I feel so used.  How are we supposed to move on from this?  How are we supposed to look at ourselves in the mirror and forget?

Me:  That’s great.  Listen, can one of you take me to the hospital?  I think I’m going to pass out.

And that’s all I remember prior to waking up in a hospital bed.  I know what you’re thinking.  Did my beautiful face heal?  Yes, it did.  Oh, and I’m sure things worked out for those women… whatever their actual names were.  And the “Great Leader” in the suit?  I dunno.  Maybe he died or something.  I can’t be concerned with all the people I take down.  There aren’t enough hours in the day.

The End.

Or is it?

Yes, it is.  I never saw any of them again.

Or did I?

No, I didn’t.  Shut up about it now.

Shutting up BAMPF!!


3 thoughts on “Chris Vs The Militant Feminists: Part 2: Return of the Militant Feminists

  1. Pingback: So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, good night | Chris Lackie - The Blog

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