Chapter nine:
Last of the American Girls
When Christian woke up, Gloria was out on the fire escape. Christian stepped outside to join her. "What's wrong?" He asked. "Well... What you said yesterday, that someone was gonna try to kill me... Maybe there's something wrong with me. Maybe I shouldn't live anymore. Tell me, Christian- do I deserve to live?" "Holy shit yes! What the fuck are you thinking, Gloria? I... I love you. I've never loved anyone until I met you, hell if you died, I'd die." Gloria was tearing up a little. "Good to know, but... Still, I hate who I am and... Could you gimme a little time alone out here?" Christian sighed. "I guess." He walked inside, but got an idea. He called up his friend Mike. "Ey Mike, you still playing that bass of yours?" Mike laughed a little. "Of course, dude. What's up?" Christian told Mike that he needed to cheer up Gloria. He said that he had an idea for a good easy bassline that they could improvise off of. "Sounds good." Mike arrived in a few minutes. Gloria was still outside. She sat there, thinking. "Is Christian right? No... There's something wrong with me. Something wrong with-" her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a booming bass guitar.
"She puts her makeup on like graffiti on the walls of the heartland."
Gloria stepped inside and sat down in front of Mike and Christian.
"She's got her little book of conspiracies right in her hand
She is paranoid like endangered species headed into extinction
She is one of a kind, well, she's the last of the American girls"
Gloria teared up a bit.
"She wears her overcoat for the coming of the nuclear winter
She is riding her bike like a fugitive of critical mass
She's on a hunger strike for the ones who won't make it for dinner
She makes enough to survive for a holiday of the working class
She's a runaway of the establishment incorporated
She won't cooperate, well, she's the last of the American girls
She plays her vinyl records singing songs on the eve of destruction
She's a sucker for all the criminals breaking the laws
She will come in first for the end of Western civilization
She's an endless war, she's a hero for the lost cause
Like a hurricane in the heart of the devastation
She's a natural disaster, she's the last of the American girls
She puts her makeup on like graffiti on the walls of the heartland
She's got her little book of conspiracies right in her hand
She will come in first for the end of Western civilization
She's a natural disaster, she's the last of the American girls"
Gloria smiled and tackled Christian onto the floor and started tearing off his clothes. Mike unplugged his bass, grabbed his amp and left, to leave them some privacy.
Afterwards, Christian talked to Gloria from the floor. "See, there's nothing wrong with you. You're perfect. You're funny, smart... Hot, let's not forget that one... You're-"
Gloria interrupted. "The Last of the American Girls?"
Christian answered "pretty much, yep!"
Gloria asked, "what's that mean, anyway?"
"Well," Christian started. "You're the last true person there's ever gonna be. You're so intelligent, no other girl will ever be like you. You're the Last of the American Girls!"