The POWER down below

Written by Cynical J.

Woman is a misbegotten man and has a faulty and defective nature in comparison to his. Therefore, she is unsure in herself. What she cannot get, she seeks to obtain through lying and diabolical deceptions. And so, to put it briefly, one must be on one's guard with every woman, as if she were a poisonous snake and the horned devil. ... Thus, in evil and perverse doings woman is cleverer, that is, slyer, than man. Her feelings drive woman toward every evil, just as reason impels man toward all good.

Albertus Magnus

If you want something said, ask a man; if you want something done, ask a woman.

Margaret Thatcher

Intro.

It was bound to happen - bound to happen, should have seen it coming a mile off. Blinded by our own ignorance we were because it'd been on the cards for years - centuries even. The number of times it'd nearly happened in the past is uncountable. I mean we've had, Hatshepsut, Empress Theodora, Empress Wu Zetian, Elizabeth 1st, Rosa Parks, Mary Wollstonecraft, Emmeline Pankhurst, fucking Maggie Thatcher and we're not even scratching the surface. There've been thousands, millions even, and to be fair you couldn't blame them, you know, there was just no counter-argument, the poor fuckers had been neglected and beat down for far too long. So, as I said to be fair, there was no argument, you couldn't blame them, and I mean, the only comeback we had was to blame the fat ugly motherfucking ogre of a man Weinstein and to be fair to us it actually was that fat dirty cunt. I mean if Brad Pitt or George Clooney had come out as the man sitting on the casting-couch I don't really think most people would have had a problem, especially women. I think most people would have just shrugged and said, "told you so," or, "yer thought so," but when people saw that gross fat fuck and then the image of the fucker flashes through your brain with his nasty gross dangly cock hanging down and a cute skinny little princess begging him, "no please, I don't want to suck it," of course you're going to be mad. You don't want that cunt in your brain. So, when the day came, when they finally snapped, when women finally decided to take over the world, there wasn't really anything we could do or say; we just had to fight the war; we just had to try and battle and win them.

First day of the war.

America, land of the free, leaders of the free world, protectors of planet earth. We start our day at the oval office, the most powerful office on the planet. The newly elected president, president Pruperto, sits at his desk with a lot of important papers in front of him - pen in hand the president scribbles frantically. He reaches forward and presses the button on his intercom. 

 "Err miss Hechter, I'm having trouble finding the whatsit-called report could you come in here a moment please."

 The doors to the oval office open and miss Hechter enters the room with her usual sexy swagger. The president absolutely loves this woman, not only is she intellectually sharp as a razor with her job and decision-making skills, she was or is I should say also drop-dead gorgeous; cute as a button. She's quite tall almost six-foot, hourglass figure, dazzling blue eyes, jet black hair almost to her butt cheeks. President Pruperto watches his beautiful secretary enter the room, he watches her hips as she glides across the oval office, tick tock, tick tock, hips like a hypnotic metronome, his eyes slide upward, dazzlingly clean white shirt with buttons that truly defy the forces of nature, because to be fair, the tension on those poor buttons as the enormously pert breasts strained to be free; it truly was science defiance. I don't even think the late Stevie Hawking could have puzzled it out. Miss Hechter watches the president from the minute she enters the room and as per usual it was hip's to tits with the fucker's eyes, and if you thought the dirty ogling fucker stopped there think again, it's tits back to hips and back up again. Only after three trips around this poor woman's body did the presidents' eyes finally rest at miss Hechter's eyes. Miss Hechter watches the president but also glances at the world clock on the wall and goes through the usual rigmarole of waiting for him to come out of his sexually charged trance before he comes back to the real and decides to converse. President Pruperto's mind snaps back from tits and ass land as miss Hechter's face comes into focus, she has her usual pained expression as she waits for him to remember what he wanted.