:oIn the midwest we have a restaurant called White Castle that's been around since the early 1920s. It's a place where you can chill and get three or six mini burgers for a reasonable price. On this particular Friday night a bad-ass, fat high school girl by the name of Rosie (and she was quite homely, too) and two friends were in line ordering their meal. The other girls were a bit hefty, too, and looked like they could eat a case of the burgers between them. They stood behind Rosie licking their chops in eager anticipation of devouring a tasty meal of the onion-flavored burgers, one of the ingredients that makes these things tasty for high schoolers as well as druggies with the munchies.
Behind the ample trio of high school girls were two blondes who were about 26 or 27. They were dressed in preppy shirts and jeans and neither of them weighed an ounce over 115 pounds, even in their clothes. As the cashier continued taking the girls order one of the women giggled and whispered to her friend: "I bet that order's gonna cost a fortune." She had a pink and black striped shirt and was extremely attractive. Rosie, who had already finished ordering, turned around and glared at her.
"What are you looking at, fat ass!" she said. The other girls turned around and stared at the blonde as her friend grabbed her arm and told her to be cool.
"I'm talking to all of you cows," the woman said. Rosie was now gritting her teeth. She knew the woman was probably drunk or strung out on coke . . . or both, but she wasn't going to take that kind of abuse. She had been lampooned enough throughout her school years and was frankly sick and tired of it.
"Here's your orders, girls," the cashier said. "Enjoy."
"I'm sure they will," the striped-shirt blonde said, just as Rosie grabbed her tray of food, eyeing the blonde with hatred. The blonde and her friend stepped up to order. Rosie went over to a nearby table with her friends. She sat down, gobbed down a couple mini burgers and watched the women get their food. She then stood up and walked over to the one in the striped shirt. The woman had just sat down at a table near the far wall.
"I'll let you finish your meal but if you're still here when I'm finished I'm gonna take you outside and beat the shit out of you."
The woman looked up all squinty eyed and just stared at Rosie.
"What do you know, Jane, it's that fat school girl. How's it going lard ass."
"Shut up, Heather," her friend said, as she stood up to leave. But they had trays instead of sacks she suddenly realized. Rosie put her meaty paw on her shoulder and shoved her to a seating position.
"Finish your meal and I'll be back in a few minutes."
"Please, she didn't mean anything by it. She's just stoned and drunk."
"That's her problem. You can go when you're finished. This one's ass belongs to me."
Heather, the friend, didn't touch her food. And ten minutes later the trio came back over to their table. The striped-shirt blonde was leaning back against the wall with her feet on the bench seat. She looked up and waved at the girls.
"Hey, fatties, did you enjoy your meal. I sure did. I . . ."
Before she could finish her next sentence Rosie grabbed the bottom of her blue jeans and pulled her off the bench. The woman landed on her ass and her head hit the seat on the way down.
"Ouch!" she cried. "Hey, fatass." Rosie pulled the woman to her feet seconds later and grabbed her arm.
"Come on, we're going outside."
"Don't hurt her," the friend pleaded but to no avail. Then one of the other girls spoke up.
"If I were you I would just shut your little mouth and go to your car, unless you want to deal with me. Rosie will make sure you get little Heather back, though she might not be in one piece. The other woman, Jane, followed the girls out. Rosie had Heather by the arm. The woman was stumbling a bit as Rosie opened the door and shoved her through it. She slapped the back of her head really hard once outside.
"Hey, watch it, fatso" said Heather. Rosie was livid. Her face suffused red as she clenched her free hand into a fist. Once outside on the side walk she released her grip on the woman's arm. The woman teetered a bit then turned to face Rosie.
"You got some nerve, you little slut," said Rosie. "I'm gonna beat your ass with a vengeance."
The woman just looked at Rosie. She the attempted a slap but Rosie blocked her arm. Rosie then raised her arm back and popped the woman in the mouth with the back of her fat hand. The blow spun Heather around and knocked her off her feet. She landed on her stomach near a trash can.
"Up you go, bitch," said Rosie, as she pulled the woman up by the neck of her shirt. The shirt pulled out of her jeans in back. Once Rosie got her to her feet--with blood already trickling from Heather's lip--she wrapped her hefty left arm around her neck and bent her over at the waist. The woman struggled to get away but was trapped by the powerful high school girl.
"This is called the Rosie special," she said, as she clenched her right fist. It comes from me but will leave your face rosy red." The other girls giggled in anxious anticipation. Rosie wasn't smiling. She promptly cocked her fist back and delivered the first haymaker to Heather's nose. It popped like a cherry upon impact, and as the rosy red fluid flowed down her mouth and chin and dripped to the sidewalk, the fat teen hit her again . . . and again . . . and again. Her fist connecting with Heather's face made a mushy sound by the time the fourth blow was delivered.
Rosie turned the woman around one hundred eighty degrees to face the parking lot. The woman's ass hung out as she suffured the brutal embrace from the teen. Rosie continued punching the woman while holding her in the headlock. When Rosie finally released the hapless woman she just plopped to the sidewalk like a rag doll, face covered in blood.
"I hope you learned your lesson here, bitch. You don't go calling girls like me fat, you hear me." The blonde was on her side, one arm stretched behind her and the other craddled near her chest. "Well do you." Rosie put her foot on the woman's ass and shoved her.
"I think she's out of it, Rosie," one of the girls said.
"Good thing for her because I'd beat her some more if she were awake."
The hefty trio of high schoolers walked away with their shoulders back and pround of who they were despite their size. Meanwhile, the woman just lay there like someone who had just been run over by a Mack truck, which wasn't too far from the truth. Her friend appeared at her side several minutes later, glancing behind her to make sure the other girls were gone. She got assistance from one of the workers, a guy who came out to empty the trash, as the two escorted her to Jane's car.
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