…“Pink doesn’t suit you, not like the red did,” Sally says with a wry smile across her lips as he thrusts two legs into the air and leans back against Randy’s mutilated corpse.
“You’re just jealous that I can pull off a feminine colour like pink, while you’re stuck flannelette shirts and gumboots!”
“At least I fill out my shirt, not like the flat chested WHORE you wish you could be!”
“Really? NOW! You two are gonna fight about his now?” Chrissy interrupts.
“YES WE ARE!” the two reply in unison.
“SHEESH!” Chrissy spits. “Daddy ain’t gonna be happy when we get back home and he hears about this,” she says before Sally grips her by one of her pigtails and slams her against the wall.
“YOU AIN’T TELLING DADDY SHIT!” she bellows, as her face twists with rage.
“ANNIE! H-H-HELP ME!” Chrissy cries.
“I AIN’T HELPING YOU DO SHIT, NOT IF YOU’RE GONNA BE A BIG FAT DOBBA!” she spits.
“BUT NOTHING BITCH!” Sally roars as she grips Chrissy by the throat, pins her to the wall and lifts her a few feet off the ground. “NOW, ARE YOU GONNA BE A GOOD GIRL, OR ARE WE GONNA HAVE TO TELL DADDY THAT YOU PLAYED A LITTLE TOO CLOSE TO THE SUN?”
“Y-Y-Y-You w-w-wouldn’t?” she stammers.
“Wouldn’t we? Are you sure?” Sally spits with wryly. “Annie, tell Chrissy what happened to Pammy, and by that, I mean what really happened.”
Chrissy’s eyes widen with terror as she looks over to the grinning Annie….