Pour me a Jack Rose, hold the GHBJune 11, 2009
Holly was a girl that Anonymous Doug knew from a time known as the 90’s, when hair stopped being big and music was no longer fun to listen to.
Anyway, Holly had a problem with roofies, in that she kept getting roofed by date rapists. Constantly. But no matter where she woke up the next day, whether it was on a lawn or in a back alley or in the trunk of her car, she’d be right back at the bar the next night, ignoring the clear signs of trauma that had been inflicted upon her. Doug couldn’t tell if it was because Holly had no self-esteem to speak of or if was because she was just dumber than a toilet brush, but there was hardly a night that went by that didn’t see Holly sitting at the bar chatting with a man who spiked her drink with the purpose of violating her unconscious body.
But eventually getting drugged so often built up an immunity to roofies in Holly. This came as quite a shock to her, as now she was no longer missing long stretches of her nights to deep chemical-induced unconsciousness. But it came as even more of a shock to the dirtbag guys trying to rape her. They’d sit at the bar with her, listening to her prattle on about her life, nodding as if they had the slightest interest in her as a person instead of a fuck box, wondering when the hell the roofies were going to kick in. Sure, doubling the dose worked for a while, as did tripling it, but that didn’t last long.
Unfortunately now that Holly wasn’t getting roofed she was able to drink a whole lot more at the bar, which was a big problem in itself because Holly had never developed much of a tolerance to alcohol due to her always getting roofed up before getting a buzz on. So the people soon discovered that Holly was a really annoying drunk. Always wanting to dance, despite the fact that she gyrated like she had muscular dystrophy. Always singing along with whatever song was playing on the jukebox, despite the fact that her voice made whales commit suicide. And at some point she’d scream at someone and then break into heaving tears.
“Yeah, we all liked Holly more when she was getting raped,” says Anonymous Doug. “Total drama drunk.”
Eventually the bar in question closed down, everyone went their separate ways, and Doug lost touch with Holly. Some say Holly began wandering the Earth, going from bar to bar and protecting women by drinking their roofie-laden cocktails for them like a guardian angel against date rape. Others say Holly just went to some other bar and annoyed the piss out of them too. And this one guy said Holly died in a hit and run accident in 1999. Yeah, he’s the county coroner, but what does he know?
(for Nursemyra, our number one fan, who wanted a post about a girl who developed an immunity to roofies)