Britt Montgomery, an 18-year-old, young-looking Catholic Academy girl, could barely believe her eyes. She had just started her car up, after punching a 32-year-old barrel-racing slut named Misty in the face, when another barrel racer pulled up in her white pickup truck two spaces over. These women were in town for the rodeo; they frequented the city quite often. They were always flirting with the local men, peeling their tight little jeans off for the quickest of quickies. Britt recognized the woman as someone her dad had had an affair with last year. Britt knew what the woman was doing at the school, and she needed to stop her.
Britt turned her car off and then stepped out of it, just as the brunette barrel raced beeped her car door shut. The woman, whose name was Kit West (age 30, 5'5 115 pounds, two inches shorter and 13 pounds lighter than Britt), had just started to walk toward the school when Britt said, "Hey, barrel racer bitch!" Kit turned her head to the left just as Britt's right fist slammed into her jaw. The cowgirl's head buckled on her neck as her cowboy hat fell to the pavement ;her eyes rolled upward. A punch to the gut dropped the woman on her knees.
"Uhhhhh! Oh, God. I . . ."
"Don't even say anything, bitch. I know why you're here. That's why I socked you. Kit placed her hands on the pavement in front of her and tried to push herself up, but Britt stepped on her right hand.
"Ohhhhhh!" the woman cried. She shook her hand. "Why did you do that?"
"Because you're a slut who's sleeping with my daddy, that's why," said Britt. "And if I were you, I'd stay on my knees. That is, until I leave. Stand up and I'll punch your lights out."
Kit, now frightened to death of the girl, remained on her knees as the young teenager hovered over her. The girl then smirked as she stomped on the woman's cowboy hat."
"Hey, that's a two-hundred-dollar hat, bitch!"
"It's a stupid looking hat. Besides, where do you get off calling me a bitch?"
"I . . ."
Kit looked over by the school sidewalk and saw two huge girls pointing and laughing at her. She looked away from them.
"Just shut your mouth. I'm talking."
"Okay." Kit's throat churned. She lowered her head toward the pavement as her face suffused red from humiliation.
"That's it, cowgirl. Keep your head down. You should be embarrassed. You're a loser. You lost this fight anyway."
Britt reached down and grabbed the back of the woman's hair, then yanked back on it. Kit screamed. She then moaned and grimaced in agony as she eyed the vicious girl, who was gritting her teeth and glaring at her -- still with a firm grip on her hair. "If you ever show up at my school or see my daddy again, I'll beat you to death. You hear me?" Kit couldn't nod her head, so Britt did it for her.
"Let go of my hair. Please!"
"Huh! I thought cowgirls were tough." She released her grip on the barrel racer's hair. "I guess not."
Britt started walking in front of the brunette toward her car. The girl had just taken one step past Kit when she turned around and slugged the barrel racer in the temple. The woman dropped to the pavement facedown and was out like a light.
Britt the meanest of the "Mean Girls," and a spoiled rich brat, had pulverized the barrel racer. She giggled as she gazed into her rearview mirror and drove away. Only the woman's little tight-jeaned tush was visible as her hapless little body lay on the school's parking lot. "Yeah," she said, pumping her fist. She was one bad-ass chick that no one should mess with.
