James had just sat down for the hardest meeting of his life. It was regaurding the Tails Doll invasion at Tokyo Tower, and why the host felt the need to spend over twelve trillion dollars raised by various protest groups in order to convert the whole of Tokyo Tower into one gigantic gun rack. He didn't want to have this conversation, he hated the board more then anything, if he was being honest with himself. His sometimes enemy, other times ally, Ms. Otis, stood at the front of the room with a remote in hand.
He really didn't feel like going through with this.
"This meeting isn't about the tails dolls James. So you can relax for a while." she said sternly. what this is about, is the Harpy Brigade and Agent Rodger 'McPedonig' Dodger's investigation into their organization." Ms. Otis began sternly, her thumb tapping the remote in her hand as the first slide of information into the organization appeared.
She had the look of a professional inquisitor about her. From the lines of grey streaking across her short brown curly hair that ended in two pig tails at the back, to her stern face that, behind the occasional warm smile, hid many years of investigations into the occasional thorns in her side.
"I want names." She said, her voice growing tired of the repeated process of being placed as head of the team that was responsible for gathering as much data they could on any and all groups. "If you ever referred to the Harpy Brigade of D.A.F, you are hereby required to come forth and spill the beans."
"Who belongs?" She began, asking in a ritualistic sort of fashion. After so many years of this, she hardly noticed the timber from her voice fading. "Who is the leader? What are their beliefs? Why are they feared by all of the men?"
Her team was comprised of mostly very bitter and jealous women, all idiots in her own opinion, a quarter of them too hideous to go shoe shopping in public without having bricks thrown at them. "Why are they blamed for countless naughty posts? Are they really feminists, or is that an excuse? Let's have it, you jelly bellies."
Smashing raised his hand stupidly. His eyes glanced nervously at James, and in his mind, he remembered the brutal beating the host of the Gathering had giving him.
"What is it?" Ms. Otis asked pointedly.
Smashing couldn't help but make a joke to break the tension that he felt was going to be building. "It's sure not choice number two. These women are far from happy!" He got one or two laughs from a person in the back row, then an awkward cough, then nothing.
"Is that all, Mr. Mayo?" Ms. Otis calmly asked. In her opinion, Smashing was the worst of them, short, fat, ugly, stupid. The worst looking of the bunch of course, but she always had excellent results when he was put on her team.
"Happissa Zhere is here today from the Gathering's corporate offices to discuss some of the finer aspects of why the Harpy Brigade is such a threat to men everywhere." She said with finality. "Happissa?" She called to the front of the small, cramped room, a man who on a regular day, always had the unfortunate ability to slice off a chunk of his elbow while shaving his face.
"I see what you did there." He stated simply. "Anyways, the Harpy Brigade poses a threat to all mankind, because like the recent activity of the Tails Dolls... JAMES... Their numbers have grown. As well as the number of diseases they have willingly injected into the walls of their birth canals. I'm sure that were all quite aware of the Omegalpha virus that James had debriefed us on a few hours prior to this meeting, as well as the fact that nearly ninety nine percent of the world's population has been infected with it." There was silence for a second or two while Ms. Otis hit the button on the remote, the screen behind Happissa displaying just the number of diseases the Harpy Brigade had.
"The numbers alone speak for themselves ladies and gentalmen... AND JAMES. If a man has sex with one of these women, it will be the equivalent of being in Hell for the rest of his life. The disease will spread, he will die, the virus will heal him up again with the dieases intact, and it will be a never ending cycle of penis hatred. JAMES." Happissa looked squarely into James's direction for good reason. Happissa was infected with the Omegalpha virus, and he nearly had sex with a Brigade member, but her pock marked looks scared his penis so badly, that he literally pissed **** for the next month and a half.
"That will be all Mr. Zhere. Next we have our undercover field agent, Rodger Dodger." She said quite calmly, her voice somehow lowering into a growl. In the recent weeks Ms. Otis's memory had been losing its edge, and she sometimes confused cases and peoples names. "I'd like to remind you that Rodger McPedonig is a horrible person, and that the-"
She was stopped mid sentence when her intern explained to her that the Rodger she was referring to was a morbidly obese, five hundred pound black man who had been properly beaten, raped, and killed by the police department in that area, as well as the Denver Broncos, and finally death raped by Robocop and his pet ED109.
"OH! Oh, my dear, I'm terribly sorry, please excuse me. Anyways, our dear friend Rodger Doger has been cross dressing, I mean, investigating, the Harpy Brigade from the inside out. Haven't you dear?" She finished, quite embarrassed at the momentary lapse of judgement on her part.
"I'll bring in Tudorspace, even though you asshats aren't worthy of his presence." Rodger said, flashing his bright pink frilly boa at everyone in the room. "Honey, don't worry, those little whores are up to no good. I think the last time there was a meeting, I was finally able to snap a few pictures of the diseased queen of bitter sweet mean herself. And that was a mess all in itself I'm afraid. Ms. Otis? Would you kindly do me proud? Show us the ugly tramp's picture!"
Rodger didn't know what Ms. Otis was thinking, but he enjoyed the fact that she occasionally got confused with names. He thought it added a spark of the old silent picture mystique back to her sometimes overpowering presence. She clicked the button again, her eyes trying to focus in on what she thought was a Joshua tree wrapped in a burlap sack with a tuft of straw coming out at the top. "Todger, dear, you seem to have gotten her hideously formed backside!" She mentioned casually.
Ms. Otis's intern, Shoegal, was passing around a survey to each of the members of the investigation team as to what they thought the Harpy Brigade stood for. Some voted early life in the Boston Tea Party, others voted for a Meth addicts outhouse if he had violent penial diarrhea.
"I voted firehouse. Mmm! Firemen. Aint that right Rodger!? JAMES!" She shouted, irritated that the host, instead of paying attention to her awkward sexual advances, in the form of interpretive spasm inducing hiccups, was playing Pong on his iphone.
"Shut up you hideous, hideous creature you." He said out of habit.
"WHAT WAS THAT!?" Shoegal screeched like a dying parrot on helium.
"Nothing. I said, shut up, you hideous, butt fugly parasite from the top side of Richard Nixon's deteriorating rectum. That better?" He smiled casually as he gave a high five to smashing mayo.
"GENTALMEN AND RECTAL PARASITE- I mean, dear, sweet, lovable intern." Ms. Otis called out, loud enough to call everyone's immediate and respected attention. "We really must get back to-"
Smashing couldn't help but get one last jab in there. "I actually seriously did think it said happy."
"MR. MAYO! MAY I REMIND YOU... That I have, at more than one occasion, caught you licking a vampire bats-"
"Edward Cullen." James shouted.
"-fecal matter from the inside of a two month old jar of sardines!" Ms. Otis finished before catching on to the rude comment that cut into her sentence. "RECTAL PARASITE-oops, I mean, dear, sweet, lovable intern, could you do me a favor and fetch me my gimp mask. It's time I taught you- I mean, smashing, the meaning of RESPECT."
Nesser T'nam nodded slowly, still unable to grasp how the American branch of the gather got through any meetings at all with progress. But she decided to join in the fun anyways. "Furies are way cooler than Harpies. Just sayin'." She quipped as she stabbed her nipple with a sharped toothpick and twisted it around.
Happissa roared with laughter at the meetings usual antics, he still couldn't understand why the footage of James rocking the tower of guns against the gigantic Tails Doll on Youtube had to be taken down. He had a copy of the video on one of his thirty SD memory cards, so it wasn't a total loss. He had uploaded it as a torrent to several sites, and it had spread faster then the story of the dead stripper in that parking garage a few days back.
"Silly guy!" he shouted to himself.
Finally, when the chaos had died down, and her intern had put on her gimp mask and allowed Ms. Otis to beat her face in with a brick bat, they went about their business.
"According to Rodger's intell, we have one of the vaginally diseased Harpies among us tonight. It's name is Whatev Ver. And she is the lowest level of disgusting, demon spawned, red neck, white trash, blue haired, dumb, unthinking whore we could find." Ms. Otis smiled at Whatev, not bothering to correct herself, and quite enjoying the shocked look on the woman's face. Her mouth a gaping, bleeding mound of torn flesh and stripped bare bone.
Ms. Otis had found she'd been looking at wrong hole, and found that Whatev's face was rather pleasant in a horrible acid trip inducing way. Whatev took to the front of the room like a drug addled whore smashing her over stretched crotch hole over a running fire hydrant.
"So, how does it actually work?" She asked the bemused Ms. Otis.
"Yes, you horrible mistake of humanity, that is why you're here I presume?" The team leader replied with not a hint of trying to hide her distaste.
Whatev took a moment to compose herself, took a deep breath, and began. "I'm sure I'll be counted among the Harpies, but what about when I disagree with a fellow member of the club? Lillith and I disagree on a lot of things, such as when she wants to cram Super Herpes into her acid filled dragon snatch, and I want her to wait a few months before her PH levels eat the flesh off of her vagina.
"I've also had discussions with other herpes infected Harpies, where I haven't agreed with them. What then? Well, to be honest, we usually just Crotch Cactus Dual until a winner is declared by the amount of needles jammed into our bleeding, agnostic nipples. We really should iron out what the rules are, girls under the age of ten only. If their fifteen, their too old." She finished quietly.
That is to say that as soon as Ms. Otis finished bludgeoning 'Rectal Parasite' to death for the umpteenth time, she swung a little too hard, letting the brick bat fly from her hand, and slam into Whatev's scarred, gouged out neck.
Another intern of the increasingly freakish Ms. Otis, lovingly referred to as 'The abortion that should've been finished' Greyeyed, tackled Whatev to the floor, and slammed her head into the corner of the brick bat that had landed next to the Podium.
"The rules are simple!" She began, first punching her target in the face so hard that Whatev's head bounced off the floor, and straight into a second punch.
"Chocolate," Another punch to the bouncing head, this one breaking her nose.
"alcohol if you want it, other beverages if you don't," A third punch to the rebounding head, smashing her left cheek bone and fracturing her occular rosacea.
"and various baked goods." Greyeyed slammed both fists into whatevs mouth, pushing her front teeth back into her mouth viciously.
"The meetings rotate around, so no one has to host more than once a year, and since it's a democracy, we all get a vote and a voice!" By this point, Whatev was screaming and choking on her own blood as Greyeyed pulled out a hidden bowie knife and carved her target's face off, then slamming it hard into a prepped bowl of cocain, broken glass, iodine, rat poison, liquid meth, and copies of the latest version of "Now that's what I call music".
Ironically, this is also what Ms. Otis said as she recorded the Brigade member's pleading screams of pain and terror.