aN: Why do so many people needing lobotomies think I'm a troll? If I was a troll, why would I make the story make so much sense?

I went upstairs to the offices. Ron Raper had built a New York building with glass walls and everything coming out of the top of the Hog's Head. My face turned red as all the sexist men looked sexistly at me, trying to get a glimpse under the cloths which covered the remains of my dignity. I was so humiliated! And I could tell the few women were sluts because they all looked jealous of the rape-filled eyes the men were giving me!

I sat down at my desk. I brought my legs together and covered my nearly bare chest with my hands, but I was sure I would probably end up getting raped anyway. I was so scared! Suddenly, one of the slutty women came up to me!

"Hello, I'm Joan Whoreoway," she said stupidly. "Don't be so shy. You have an amazing body and you should share it with the whole room!"

"NO!" I screamed in a dignified voice.

"You're new here," said Joan as she sluttily polluted the air with her cigarette. "I've been here awhile, so I know the men will like you more if you give them everything you've got. It's the only way they'll respect you."

"Yeah, that's because they're SEXIST!" I yelled loudly.

"Men deserve to have beautiful things to look at," said Joan evilly. "It's the only thing we women are good for anyway and the more they like what they see, the more sex they'll have with us!"

"You're a slut!" I screamed truthfully.

Suddenly, Ron Raper sexistly stepped out of his stupid office. He was wearing an old suit with ugly slicked back red hair!

"I would like to see Crystal Potter in my office immediately," he said lasciviously, holding his sexist cigarette sexistly. I knew he would probably try to rape me, but I had no choice but to come!