My step grandmother Annabelle was a shallow, vain southern belle from Savannah, Georgia who was obsessed with keeping up good appearances. Part of keeping up good appearances was hosting fundraising events so it looked like she gave a shit about the environment or the less fortunate. Annabelle belonged to a local woman's charity organization so she was always having cocktail parties in the garden to benefit the latest flavor of the week cause.
These parties were a melting pot of the super rich. You could see new money rubbing elbows with old money and watch the nouveau riche become part of the bourgeoisie. You could see the wives of politicians mix with congresswomen, heiresses, millionaire businesswomen and the trophy wives of rich men. They talked about expensive vacations, over-priced luxury items and stabbed each other in the back to a soundtrack provided by a light jazz piano.
My step-grandmother Annabelle liked playing the part of hostess. She loved the attention that hosting the garden cocktail parties brought here. She would always be parading around the crowd in a pastel colored cocktail dress that showed off her cleavage and she would always be holding a peach daiquiri in her right hand. Annabelle was a real GILF back then too. My step-grandmother was five foot six, a hundred and thirty-six pound and sixty-two years old. She had a deep bronze tan dotted with sunspots, a cute bouncy ass, a pair of fake double Ds and a pair of sky blue serpentine eyes. Annabelle dyed her hair black and always wore it poofy bouffant hairstyle. My step-grandmother bore a little bit of a resemblance to Elizabeth Taylor and used to joke that she was Elizabeth Taylor's younger, prettier, southern sister. She was such a vain and shallow woman.
Anyways something snapped inside of me while I was looking down at the greedy, shallow crowd that was below me. I had always looked down upon them but that night I had started to detest them. I hated the self-absorbed hypocrites who were pretending that they gave a shit about the world when the only thing that they really cared about was themselves. I also hated the sense of security that they felt in their fortresses of wealth and power. I decided that night that I was going to take that sense of security of away from them. I was going to dig the skeletons out of their closets and find out all of their secrets. I was going to turn those bitches into dogs and make them eat their own shit. I would turn them into my little playthings and make them beg for mercy. And when they would ask for mercy I would show them none. Picturing those women cowering in fear and crying out in pain brought a smile to my face.
