“I’d kill the bitch again, you know! I would!” Robert screamed through the bars of the cell at the pussy-whipped guards. “She got me fired!” Robert slammed his forearm into the bars, “So I shot her ass!”
Jailed for rape and murder. That was going to look good on his résumé. That’s what everyone would say. No one would say the truth. Framed by a whore, so he shot her. Of course no one would say that. They’d all side with that bitch.
Hell, he was a man! If a woman looked good, he told her she looked good. It’s what guys did. If she had boobs he wanted to see, he told her he wanted to see them. Nothing wrong with that. He was being honest, like his parents taught him.
Asking questions was curiosity on his part. “I don’t see any lines, do you wear thongs?” Curiosity, nothing more. Some days she had more cleavage than others. “One of those miracle bra things?” Curiousity was natural, wasn’t it?
He tried being helpful too, like when she wore a dress. “You have great legs. Why don’t you wear something a bit shorter, show off your legs more?” Constructive suggestions, that’s all. “Men go stupid around boobs. Show them off a bit, and they’ll give you everything you ask for.” Nothing sexist at all. He wasn’t harassing her. He was trying to help her.
He even tried being friendly, “I’m going to lunch, wanna come? I’ll buy.” She always declined. “Why do you never go to lunch with me?” She never answered.
He’d even tried being polite. “Women like flowers and candy, right? So, I left a flower on her desk once. And some chocolate once. What’s wrong with that?”
The boss called him to the office more than once. “Robert, you have to stop harassing Penny.”
“But, I’m not harassing her.”
“According to her, you are.”
They made him watch this stupid video about what sexual harassment in the workplace was. Made him take a test after the video. He got every question right, passed that stupid test. Proved he knew what harassment was.
“What’s wrong with telling her she looks pretty today?”
“Nothing wrong with telling her that, Robert.” The bos shook his head. “It’s how you say it. With that leer in your eyes and how you stare at her boobs.”
The meetings became more frequent. Turned out the bitch was filing sexual harassment reports against him. “He keeps asking what kind of underwear I wear. If I have on a push-up bra. Telling me I should wear shorter skirts.” There was more. “He keeps asking me out. He won’t take no for an answer.” And more. “He stares at me. Watches me all the time. Like he’s stalking me.” And it all ended with, “I can’t work with him. I don’t feel safe around him.”
After several months of her lies, several months of the boss talking with him, telling him to leave her alone, the company fired him. They didn’t let him resign. They fired him, and listed the reason as sexual harassment.
She got him fired! Cost him his job!
That little bitch!
So, hell yes. He went to his truck, got his gun, and waited. He followed her home, snuck in. Finally did what he’d always wanted to with her. Found out she didn’t wear a thong, and her bra was not one of those sexy lace things like in the pictures on his computer. No, just plain underwear.
But he finally got to touch her boobs. While he was at it, he screwed her. Like he’d always fantasized about doing. That’d teach her to get him fire.
Then he shot her. Stuffed the gun barrel in her mouth, and pulled the trigger. “It’s what she deserved! She ruined my life! Got me fired!”
Life was so fucking unfair! God! He didn’t deserve any of this shit!
And so goes year 3, week 3 (Week 3.03) of Jeff Tsuruoka‘s Mid-Week Blues-Buster flash fiction challenge. This week the prompt is the song, “Moshka” by Vas. Please, go read the other stories in this week’s challenge.