“Hey, dear! Can’t wait ‘till the end of the week for that piece!” I’d shout over the noise of the machines for everyone to hear! All with my best toothy smile in place. Then I’d lower my voice, “Bitch, biiiiiiiiiiiitch!” Over and over and fucking over again, like mantra, or whatever, in her sweet little ear.
“You gonna burn out bitch..”
“Why don’t you burn, bitch..”
“What you telling me that for bitch..”
“Prick teaser!”
“Using your fingers for the wrong job bitch..”
“Never gonna make it with me here bitch..”
“You’re losing it Bitch..”
Man, I got a whole songbook full of this stuff, all up here in the head department!
Sure enough, she got all nervous and her production fell and so did the pieces I’d pass her and drop so it looked like she’d dropped them and, boy did she look incompetent and the lads saw that and I didn’t even have to speak to her no more but I just pick on her with the lads and the lads don’t talk to her no more either, ‘cause I won’t be having any of that and she can’t fucking hack it no more and sweet little Mary has gone all quite contrary.
Spoke to the foreman, she did. The guy’s a friend of mine. Nobody likes people who talks behind their backs. I told them all that. Explained it in real clear language. So, I’ve got the cow on the slippery slope and we laugh and snigger and comment and give the bitch the finger when Little Mary Quite Contrary is in earshot, and she’s had it. I’ve turned everyone and everything against her. Even the fucking machines!
She eats her sandwiches in the toilet ‘cause I just can’t never let up with the sarky comments and dirty suggestions with the lads. You know the plan! Gotta keep her on edge. Told everyone she was a paranoid bitch out to get ‘em all, and, whether they believe it or not, that’s the way they react ‘cause I’m in control here, baby, and I’ve got a nice warm feeling inside and they’re all shiteating cowards, the cunts. Fuck them all.
And sweet Little Mary Quite Contrary has lost a whole load of weight these months I’ve been working her over and looks much sexier than when I started work on her, the bitch.
“Bitch”, I like that word, just rolls off the tongue like it should be in some Queen song. Rolls off the tongue like poetry!
The “Arthur Lovich” of this three part story is a fictional character.
