Excerpt:

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My name is Fucker. My real name is Fucker. Only I know this. Everyone else knows me as Charlene or Charlie or Lena, depending. Depending on what I choose to gamble. Depending on what I choose to show.
Tonight I will be Charlie. I arrange my careful hair into a slicked back pirate version of dapper. I put on my size 34 tighty whities. I pack. Packing is an art. You can’t slip in a sock or a 12” dildo schlong and expect to fool anyone except the fratties, who deserve it anyway. You need a real 100% silicone pack and play. A softy. My preference is black. I wrap black duct tape around my size C tits. No ace bandage slip shit. Can’t afford it. Black socks. Black shoes. Black pants, no pleats. Black leather belt. Black button down shirt. Black pin stripped vest.
I look in the mirror. I lick my lips. I flatten my smile. I square my shoulders. I mouth “fuck you” at the mirror. I pick up my keys, wallet and walk out.

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My husband’s family is from Galveston, Texas. Little island. Big money. His family has been in real estate for 4 generations. They buy and hold. They are everything from Detroit slumlords to owners of the buildings that house McDonalds. They know property. They know money.
I am lucky to have him.

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I have 4 dogs. They are the loves of my life. Snicker (cattle dog). Poodle (great dane). Dimmer (border collie). and Pro (short for procrastination) (border collie). Today is Sunday. It is the day that I cook for my dogs. I feed them a chicken and rice combo that I call “power poker.” I work a split shift at Walgreens (the only split shift Danny the manager will appprove) so I can take the dogs on their midafternoon run.

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No one knows me like you do. I am the one you want. I only want you. If you love me I will change. If you love me I will be beautiful. If you love me you will be rich and you can fuck me upside down if it makes you happy.

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I was the high school quarterback. Did I tell you that? I was also the home coming king. I had promise. Everyone said so. I was voted most popular, most likely to succeed, most handsome. Did I mention that I was also the quarterback? I got to call the plays. All the guys respected me. They all knew that I could get the girl...and boy did I. I fucked them all....Cindy, Donna, Connie, even that abstinence girl Jeanette. I was smooth. I told them I loved them. I really did love them. All of them.

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Yes, I have a lot of tattoos. No, I don’t want to tell you what they mean. Of course they hurt. Yeah....I bet you would be too afraid or indecisive or sensitive or cheap to get one. Yes, I am sure your job wouldn’t understand.
I don’t actually want to talk to you at all. I prefer to see you from the stage, where I can look down on you and yell. I can say whatever I want and you cheer. I can spit on you and you love it. I step on the stage and I am alive. My blood is buzzing with yours. I drain each and everyone of you and your light comes out of my eyes.

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My name is Butterfly Davis and I am a real estate agent. I sell mostly condo property to the upwardly mobile. I also live in a condo, which shows my dedication. I often bring clients to my place to give them a tour. I show them the place, then I do whatever it takes to make a sale. Men are more likely to take me up on the offer for sex, but women are more likely to feel obliged to buy property after.

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I have a job. I love to bag groceries. I have a best friend, a girlfriend and a dog named Doggie. I live with my parents. They are nice. I used to have a job coach, but she said I was good and didn’t need her anymore. I know that you put the bread on the top and the cans of chili on the bottom. Never put soap and lettuce together and don’t tell the customers about your girlfriend or whether you did number one or two when you went to the bathroom. I have Down’s. I have Down’s Syndrome. I like it. It sounds like something you get when you are special. People tell me that all the time. I am special.

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I kick ass. I sell it too. I have 10 girls working for me and they are all blonde. Blonde is what the men want. They want double D’s, real or not, and they want blonde. Acne, belly, big legs, thin lips...no one cares. Just blonde and double D’s. I find them everwhere. The girls are in the 7-11 and the movie theater and on-line and on the corner and in college. All you have to do is tell them they are beautiful and that you are a photographer and just have to capture them on film. That is only the beginning.