Post by Deleted on Jul 11, 2016 23:05:53 GMT
He recognized the 2015 Mercedes Benz that belonged to Arianny Blake as the moonlight gleamed off of the hood of the vehicle. The little cunt had used her little cunt to get everything she had in life. That fact didn't upset him. She had used the only part of her body that was worth a damn to secure herself a place in the world. To a certain extent he respected that. If only she had recognized that her place in life would never be above that of even the most useless, cowardly, no balls man she would have been okay. Unfortunately she had decided to reach beyond and do something that she should have known better than to do. She had come to his house, with a friend, and intimidated his wife. That was his responsibility. It was his right. She had stepped where she didn't belong and now she was going to pay the price for her actions.
"I can smell your filthy twat from here." Jackson sniffed the air in disgust as he knelt down beside the front driver side tire of her car. His face was concealed by a black ski mask and his hands were gloved in the same brand of glove that O.J. had allegedly used. In his hand was a pair of tin snips. Clearly what he was about to do was something that he had done before. "My wife told me what you said to her. You and your walking cum dumpster of a friend that came with you. See, this is what happens when you let a liberal commie bastard like that Obama in office. All you whores start thinking you have a right to things that were never yours in the first place. You think you have a right to force your way into a man's home and tell his wife what she should do and how she should think. Let me tell you something, little cunt. You've got no right and when you misbehave and do something you've got no right to do, you get punished."
From his kneeling position Jackson leaned down and briefly examined the undercarriage of the Mercedes Benz that Arianny cherished so dearly. After a few moments of silence, he sat back in an upright position again, speaking to himself softly. "You and your queer brother think you can just do whatever you want to do. You think that there aren't consequences for your actions. My wife told me you sounded like a woman who was convinced no one can touch you. I know. You think you're too quick and you think that your submissions are the be all and end all. Hell, I'll even give you credit where it's due. Your submissions are good. But how are you going to get me there? You're tiny. Yes, you're quick. But if you're going to hit me you've got to get close enough and love, if you get close enough to touch me I'm going to put you on your knees where you belong."
Briefly, Jax checked his phone to make sure that Jace was going to be waiting like he had asked. His friend had no idea what Jackson was doing but had willingly agreed to pick him up at the allotted time. "That's the problem with all of your perfectly laid plans. You think you've got everything figured out and you know just how it all is going to play out. When things don't go according to those meticulously plotted plans, you fall apart. Your composure disappears quicker than mommy and daddy's trust fund has. What are you going to do then, hmm? When you get caught right across the jaw with one of my big haymakers, what are you going to do? Crumble. When I put you down on the mat and smack that tight little ass of yours, what are you going to do? Crumble. When everything you thought you knew to be true about yourself turns out to be a lie, what are you going to do? Crumble." Once more, Jackson leaned over to look underneath the car and this time he used the tin snips in his hand to cut the brake line. Arianny Blake was never going to open her whore mouth again. "At Vendetta, the fans are going to witness Arianny Blake crash and burn like a Mercedes Benz with no brakes that's driven by a spoiled little cunthole."
Without another word, Jackson left the scene.
"I can smell your filthy twat from here." Jackson sniffed the air in disgust as he knelt down beside the front driver side tire of her car. His face was concealed by a black ski mask and his hands were gloved in the same brand of glove that O.J. had allegedly used. In his hand was a pair of tin snips. Clearly what he was about to do was something that he had done before. "My wife told me what you said to her. You and your walking cum dumpster of a friend that came with you. See, this is what happens when you let a liberal commie bastard like that Obama in office. All you whores start thinking you have a right to things that were never yours in the first place. You think you have a right to force your way into a man's home and tell his wife what she should do and how she should think. Let me tell you something, little cunt. You've got no right and when you misbehave and do something you've got no right to do, you get punished."
From his kneeling position Jackson leaned down and briefly examined the undercarriage of the Mercedes Benz that Arianny cherished so dearly. After a few moments of silence, he sat back in an upright position again, speaking to himself softly. "You and your queer brother think you can just do whatever you want to do. You think that there aren't consequences for your actions. My wife told me you sounded like a woman who was convinced no one can touch you. I know. You think you're too quick and you think that your submissions are the be all and end all. Hell, I'll even give you credit where it's due. Your submissions are good. But how are you going to get me there? You're tiny. Yes, you're quick. But if you're going to hit me you've got to get close enough and love, if you get close enough to touch me I'm going to put you on your knees where you belong."
Briefly, Jax checked his phone to make sure that Jace was going to be waiting like he had asked. His friend had no idea what Jackson was doing but had willingly agreed to pick him up at the allotted time. "That's the problem with all of your perfectly laid plans. You think you've got everything figured out and you know just how it all is going to play out. When things don't go according to those meticulously plotted plans, you fall apart. Your composure disappears quicker than mommy and daddy's trust fund has. What are you going to do then, hmm? When you get caught right across the jaw with one of my big haymakers, what are you going to do? Crumble. When I put you down on the mat and smack that tight little ass of yours, what are you going to do? Crumble. When everything you thought you knew to be true about yourself turns out to be a lie, what are you going to do? Crumble." Once more, Jackson leaned over to look underneath the car and this time he used the tin snips in his hand to cut the brake line. Arianny Blake was never going to open her whore mouth again. "At Vendetta, the fans are going to witness Arianny Blake crash and burn like a Mercedes Benz with no brakes that's driven by a spoiled little cunthole."
Without another word, Jackson left the scene.
