Part 12.

During my afternoon therapy session, I shared again, fuming about the 7-Chan's lawyers shielding guilty incel trolls from the FBI. Several group members had been cyber-bullied and chimed in. And every group member, save me, had received dick-pics from some idiot loser or other who was CERTAIN that this pickup method would net them some ladies. And I'm like, "as-if."

Then again, I had seen Omega brothers taking dick-pics and sending them to whatever slag they were trying to shag, so maybe I was wrong and it worked? Every now and again? Who knows? But based on the reactions here, I'd call it a losing strategy, And some of these shorties weren't half-bad looking, especially the flat-out foxy Latina with an ass that wouldn't quit whom I made sure to sit behind. Amazing view.

While this liturgy of shame and heartless bullying unfurled, I grew irate. Unable to control myself, I shot bolt-upright, snagging the spotlight like Jimmy Stewart in Mister Smith Goes to Washington. "Hey, any of you gals know a reporter? Because I'm tired of little-peckered idiots fucking up our lives. No mas. I want to go public, to get my story, our story, out there. I'm talking 'Me Too' two-dot-oh. We gotta hold these assholes' feet to the fire."

Applause exploded.

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I remembered Holtzclaw's Alpha Schlong dossier, and reached into my handbag, brandishing the papers. "And I have evidence, Check out this filth." I handed the folder to the woman next to me, and she paged through, her jaw gaping open with shock. She passed it along, and I stood, silent, as the second woman read. She passed along the papers, and I roused.

"Those are the jackhole's 7-Chan posts, from the cops. The FBI has him, dead to rights, threatening, bullying, and doxing people. Only the 7-Chan pinheads won't give him up. They're protecting a vile dirtbag who posts filth, like turning a woman's uterus inside-out, like a sock. Assholes like that have to pay. So tell your reporter friends. They'll have click-bait for days, a career-boosting scoop."

They cheered. They read the dossier. They jeered, making fun of the incel Alpha Schlong. Because they wanted his head on a spike, pay-back for decades of guys being assholes.

Then a large African American young lady began chanting and clapping: "Alpha Schlong is going down, Alpha Schlong is going down...."

Soon, the others took up the chant. And the therapist slumped in her chair, annoyed that all hell had broken loose in her once-peaceful group session. Because these ladies were no longer navel-gazing or whining while sharing bullshit with bullshitters. Instead, they were fighting mad, and ready to march, a mascara army rallying to my battle cry.

I then understood how MLK felt as people cheered him at the Washington Monument. I mean, fighting for justice is a real kick.