Packed Home With Jewel-Studded Crowns and Embedded Horseshoes
Seconds tick into hours on her Cartier watch and as her plane zones in on Tuscany, Destination #2 is revealed. Green Italian landscapes transforms into hard Egyptian dirt as Denial to her becomes a huge river stinking of floating bad boys, gaudy limos and sweetly sour wedding toasts before champagne and lies.
High premium bitter taste.
Her visit to one of the world's longest rivers takes two days and adds up to exactly sixty-three unanswered calls on Chuck's phone and thirty-two messages on his voicemail. There would be thirty-three, but she convinces herself that commercial flights definitely don't have service.
It's either that or admitting that she's filled his voicemail.
Paris's elegant buildings coerce her out of sinister Egyptian tombs and she hits the road looking for revenge.
First Stop. She picks up British royalty eager for a taste of the New World. He's more boring than history stories of men squabbling over land without a single Bendels on it, but Daddy and his partner lover her newest catch for both his manners and true hunk looks. She whisks him away to the Hamptons before Roman's appreciative gay glances turn into anything more.
(Think that again and the next time she's hunched over a toilet, she won't have to stick her finger down anything.)
Last stop before Completely Satisfying Revenge is Jealous Ex-Boyfriend. She has her fun taunting the townsperson.
"Blair, you're not fooling me. He would bore you even if he was turning back flips and juggling torches."
"Well, at least it would be torches, not girls."
A sigh escapes through his thin, kissable lips. (Stop it, Blair! He's not sexy at all. Maybe just a little bit. But you don't want to sex him up in ANY way,UNDERSTAND?"
"It was a one-time thing, B."
"James isn't."
He steps forward in a truly psychopathic sexual predator way.
"I'll give it two times before you're yawning when you're supposed to be screaming."
"He's wearing my heart on his sleeve."
Flinch.
"Go screw a girl and leave me alone, Bass. You had no problem doing that before."
But then British Boy decides that public transport is no fun since he hasn't gotten a good ride yet. Stick to private jets with all-too willing attendants in short skirts flashing skimpy panties, plastic chests and white teeth. Either that, or head over to Toys-R-Us and pick his royal self up a life-size Barbie doll.
She thinks over (gin, Little J) martinis that Lord Horny could give half his kingdom and title to Bass and then they could go looking for Arabian Horses together.
Good times, priceless memories.
She changes her mind when carefully worded apologies and highly developed Manolo evasion skills start having their effect on what she thinks is her oh-too-forgiving heart.
She tells him that if he ever touches an imported creature again, there's gonna be a hoof up his ass along with that silver spoon.
It's the closest thing to a 'you're forgiven' he's going to get and he knows it.
So he smirks that smirk and then there she is, riding Chu-Chu-Chuck and disappearing off into the sunset.
It's her romantic ending to the porn movie that his life is.