"And now, we move on to an update on what has, quite literally, become the BIGGEST story to ever hit Quahog," said Tom Tucker as a mugshot of Meg appeared in the top right corner of the screen. "So far, scientists have yet to find a way to reverse Meg Griffin's condition. In the meantime, word has it that she is working on some sort of independent movie with her family. But last night, Meg Griffin made headlines again when she helped in the rescue of people trapped in a burning apartment building, first by delivering stalled fire trucks right to its doorstep and then spitting water directly into the building."
At this point, the program cut away to footage recorded by some other bystander, right when Meg turned around to talk to her family. And of course, seconds later, she is shown cutting loose which a huge fart and reigniting the apartment building. "But then she had to go and screw things up, choosing the worst possible time to blow a big one," Tom added dryly.
"In the meantime, we've tried to arrange an interview with the local would-be hero," Diane cut in. "So now, we go to our Asian Correspondent, Tricia Takanawa."
The program cut away again, this time to where their reporter currently was. She was standing inside Meg's tent, next to a tall wall of pink fabric that was undoubtedly Meg's backside. "Thank you, Diane," said Tricia Takanawa. "I am here in the girl's tent, behind her family's house. I was forced to sneak in, since her father made it very clear any reporters would be shot on sight. Unfortunately, at the moment Meg Griffin is sleeping, and...." But Tricia was cut off when Meg suddenly rolled over, and she ended up getting pinned under Meg's massive arm. Only her hand, still holding onto the microphone, was visible, poking out from underneath Meg's arm.
The show cut back to Tom and Diane. "Thank you, Tricia," said Diane nonchalantly, as if nothing had happened. "We'll have sports, right after this."
Lois grabbed the remote and turned the television off. It brought her blood to a boil every time Meg was trotted out in the news since her transformation, and the fact that Peter was using her in an independent movie on top of that did not help her mood any. "Oh, what are we going to do about Meg?" she wondered out loud. "Even when she tries her hardest to do something good, something has to go horribly wrong...."
Just then, Peter, Brian and Chris walked into the living room, heading for the front door. At first, she had no idea what they were doing up so early; Peter was carrying a backpack and boxes filled with who-knew-what. But when she saw that Chris was carrying their digital camcorder, it wasn't too hard to guess. "Peter, you're going to start shooting again THIS EARLY!?" she asked impatiently. "And don't you have work today, anyway?"
"Exactly," said Peter matter-of-factly. "I wanna take Meg down to the brewery and shoot some scenes there. I'm gonna talk with the marketing department too, see if they'll make Meg the new company mascot or something like that...."
Lois felt like her head was going to explode. "Peter, you can't be serious!!" she screamed. "You scare off all the reporters saying you didn't want her exploited, but then you turn around and make her star in this humiliating movie and try to get her to do beer commercials!? What the HELL are you thinking!? Did you ever stop to consider how Meg feels about all this, that she probably hates us all for making her do this!?"
"Actually, we just figured that if Meg really hated us for it, we'd all be greasy stains on the front lawn by now," said Brian darkly.
Lois slapped her forehead. "She's probably just going along with it because she doesn't want to disappoint her family, especially her father," Lois suggested. "Right now, she's probably more confused and lost than she's ever been, and I have a bad feeling that after what happened last night it'll only get worse."
"After what happened last night? All Meg did was save a few dozen people from a raging inferno," said Brian.
"And accidently destroyed the building completely in the process," said Lois. "Look, I just have a nasty feeling that everyone in the city is going to get more anxious about Meg with each passing day. People always fear what they don't understand and let that fear override their better judgment. Who knows what the people of Quahog will do if they let their fear get out of hand?"
"Oh yeah, right Lois," Peter fired back mockingly. "Like, what can anyone in Quahog do to her? Hire a bunch of hit men?"
Meg slowly crawled out of her tent, apparently ignorant of the fact that she probably just killed Tricia Takanawa in her sleep. She stood up to her full height, stretched, and yawned...a yawn that probably woke up everyone in the neighborhood. Meg then furtively glanced down around the ground, as if to make sure no one was watching her. Meg was apparently satisfied that no one was around, for she leaned over into the Swansons' backyard and took a huge gulp of water from their swimming pool, then splashed her face with the remaining water.
"Ack, chlorine," said Meg bitterly as she stood back up. However, as she did so, several Ewoks jumped off from the top of a tall tree in her backyard, screaming a passionate war cry as they landed on her head. "Hey, what the hell!?" Meg screamed in confusion as the furry little buggers started to hack away at her face and neck with tomahawks. And it didn't help when a bunch of other Ewoks showed up, flying in on crude hanggliders and dropping big rocks on her head.
As she tried to brush off all the Ewoks, Meg stormed out into the street. Several Ewoks had been waiting for her in her front yard with a rope, hoping to trip her. But once her foot snagged on the rope, she ended up just dragging them along. And to top it all off, even more Ewoks showed up in a hijacked AT-ST walker and started blasting away. Meg ran down the street in a blind panic, flailing her arms and screaming in pain as the AT-ST pelted her ass with blaster fire.
Several minutes later, Meg dragged herself back to her house, all the while trying to remove the last few tomahawks that had gotten lodged in her face. She stopped in front of her house, where her family was waiting. She just stared down at them as she tried to catch her breath.
"NOW do you believe me?" said Lois angrily, glowering at Peter. "I told you things were going to get worse, didn't I?"
"I don't believe it," said Meg breathlessly as she picked the last tomahawk out of her cheek. "I saved so many people from that burning building yesterday, and how am I repaid? I get a bunch of homicidal teddy bears sicked on me."
"Well, you gotta give the little buggers some credit," said Brian. "They certainly did better than the yahoos who crossed your path the other day."
Meg stood in Quahog's park, and near her feet stood General Zod, flanked by Ursa and Non. "I command you...KNEEL BEFORE ZOD!" demanded the megalomaniacal Kryptonian, pointing up at Meg.
For a moment, Meg just stared down at the three Kryptonians with that piercing, annoyed glare, the way only Meg can. But suddenly, she did indeed get down on one knee and knelt before them...and half-a-second later she pivoted on one foot and did an 180 degree turn. It was then that she let out another explosive fart.
All three of them were blown away, right into another one of those Phantom Zone trap thingies, which was quickly propelled far from Earth's surface and into the blackness of space.
"Like mother like daughter," Peter added.
"That's not the point!" Lois shouted. "If we're not careful, everyone in Quahog will eventually turn on us."
Peter regarded Lois carefully for a moment, then finally relented. "You're right, Lois," said Peter, the growing determination in his voice palpable. "By God, I'm gonna do everything I can to get the people of Quahog to appreciate our freakishly mammoth, monstrously frightening daughter." He said that loudly enough so that Meg could hear him clearly, and she simply sighed and shook her head.
"Oh lovely. I hope this goes better than when you tried to get Tarja Turunen back together with Nightwish," Brian said dryly.
Peter stood in the middle of a backstage room in a colosseum. To his right was Tarja Turunen, wearing that ugly yellow raincoat and looking like her usual queen-of-the-night self. To Peter's left stood the four remaining band members of Nightwish: Tuomas Holopainen, Marko Hietala, Erno Vuorien and Jukka Nevalainen.
"Now come on, you guys, you've been together almost ten years. There's no sense in breaking up and kicking Tarja out now," Peter pleaded, putting one arm supportively around Tarja's shoulders. Tarja just rolled her eyes. "Sure, she's acted like a real prima donna as of late, flying on a separate plane with her husband, acted as if her opinion was the only one that mattered, seemed like she cared to much about the business side of music...." As Peter rambled on, Tarja started looking more and more pissy.
Completely oblivious to this, Peter went on. "And sure, the rest of the band acted like absolute assholes by saying all this in an open letter, trotting out this whole mess in public instead of face-to-face, which pretty much amounted to stabbing a lifelong friend in the back, and...."
At about the same time, all five of them starting beating on Peter's ass in unison. In the span of a few seconds, Peter was reduced to a bloody pulp lying helplessly on the floor, and they simply left him there as they stormed out.
Meg thought things couldn't get worse after that dismal morning, but she was soon proven wrong. More humiliating and exhausting filming sessions, at the brewery and elsewhere, had taken up most of the day. Now that night had finally fallen, it was all Meg could do to drag herself back home...and barely avoid stepping on any cars or pedestrians in the process.
"Thank God this day is over with," Meg said breathlessly as she crawled into her tent, ignoring the vehement curses of people she had just passed by. She was too tired and emotionally drained to think, to care about what anyone else thought of her at the moment. Meg collapsed noisily onto the ground, her legs still poking outside the tent. Almost instantly, she drifted off into a state of half-sleep, her eyes barely staying open. No doubt she would have fallen completely asleep soon enough, had not the faint cries of her little (VERY little to her now) brother right outside her tent.
It took a few minutes for Meg to muster the will to prop herself back up. "Ugh, what does he want now?" Meg grumbled under her breath as she crawled backwards out of her tent. She rose to a sitting position and glared down at the ground. Chris was there in the background, along with the gothic rock band he used to perform with. Also with them was a black-haired woman in what looked like an ugly yellow raincoat, who was looking up at her with an anxious expression that seemed dangerously close to outright terror.
"Hey Meg, I know you've been depressed lately, and I thought if my old band put on a show for you, it'd cheer you up," said Chris. "And while I was in town today, look who I found who agreed to be a guest singer? Tarja Turunen!"
"Wait a minute, you said this was for a charity," Tarja snapped nervously, turning to Chris.
"Uhh, it is," Chris said quickly. "It's for the, err, 'Keep Meg Happy So She Doesn't Go Godzilla On Quahog' charity." Meg bit back a whole litany of retorts, almost losing her temper again.
Tarja sighed. "Oh well, might as well, now that I'm here."
"Uhh, Chris, why'd you think this would cheer me up?" asked Meg. "It's not like I hate symphonic metal or anything, but...it was never really my thing."
"Uhh, well, I just thought since most of Nightwish's songs and Tarja's solos tend to be dark and angsty, it'd kind of fit your mood," explained Chris. "Plus, Tarja seems a natural to perform for you, since she knows what it's like to be ostracized and backstabbed by friends and...."
"You know kid, you lack of tact is awfully familiar. Can't put my finger on who it reminds me of, though," grumbled Tarja. "Can we start now?" Meg couldn't help but nod in agreement.
After that, Chris got the hint, and his band began to play. Chris and Tarja burst into song not too long after that. As tired as she was, Meg resisted the urge to tell them all to blow off and instead tried to enjoy the performance. Part of it had to do with the fact she was actually touched by Chris's thoughtfulness...even though his reasoning behind this performance annoyed her. And she had to admit that the band played very well, and that Chris and Tarja made a good duet. Plus, Meg couldn't deny it felt gratifying that this performance involving a celebrity was being made just for her.
As the performance went on, Herbert eventually crept up beside Chris, awkwardly holding a cigarette lighter with one trembling hand. Meg simply ignored him, still listening attentively to the band. But not long after that, Peter stormed out of the house and approached them. "Hey Chris, what the hell is with all this noise? I thought you quit this band."
The performance came to an abrupt halt. Tarja glanced back at Chris, then back over at Peter. "Now it all makes sense," she said testily.
"Hey Tarja," Peter said cordially, blissfully ignorant of the shift in Tarja's mood. "How's the...." But Peter was cut off when Tarja grabbed Herbert's walker and threw it at Peter, with Herbert still holding onto it, flooring Peter instantly.
It didn't take Peter too long to recover from having an elderly man chucked at him, though, and several hours later was sitting comfortably on the sofa and watching television. However, he had a nagging feeling that Lois would walk in and pester him about Meg at any minute. Peter still didn't understand why Lois was making such a fuss about their independent movie. How else were they suppose to raise enough cash to take care of their daughter until Quahog's doctors were ready to probe her ass? And besides, if Meg truly had a problem with it, why'd she agree to it? He couldn't very well try and force her to do ANYTHING against her will anymore...not unless he was itching to be a big, bloody pancake.
Just as he feared, Lois came storming into the living room, looking ready for another argument. "Peter, we need to have a serious talk," she pleaded. Peter sighed and turned to his wife, ready for another boring lecture. But thankfully, Chris and Brian chose that exact moment to walk in and stave off Lois's tirade.
"Good news, Dad!" exclaimed Chris. "Brian's been busy putting the final touches on the website we've set up for the movie, and the preview trailer's been downloaded half-a-million times since yesterday!"
"And what's more, the site's getting so much traffic, our e-mail account has been flooded with offers from online advertisers. They're offering to pay through the nose to have their advertising banners on the site," added Brian.
Peter glanced back at Lois, regarding her smugly. "You see, Lois? With this movie, we'll make more than enough dough to ride out Meg's growing pains."
Lois seemed to choke on her words, as if unsure how to attack Peter next. Eventually, though, she found her voice and said, "Peter, all this doesn't change the fact that, well, it's like we're capitalizing on Meg's plight. She's already been traumatized enough already, and by forcing her to parade herself around this way, we're only dumping salt into gaping emotional wounds."
"Lois, please, we've been through this before: Meg's NOT being forced to do anything. She's CHOSEN to go along with this," Peter pointed out. "If Meg had a real problem with it, then she wouldn't go along with it."
"Maybe it's because she doesn't want to disappoint you," Lois suggested. "Sometimes it seems like she's desperate to win your approval, and that would explain why she'd be willing to stoop to this. To be brutally honest, oftentimes you're not a very supportive and understanding father to Meg."
"Actually, when it comes to Meg, neither of you have exactly been model parents as of late," Brian interjected.
Lois shot Brian a scything look, which silenced him instantly. Lois turned back to Peter. "Peter, I've tried to get Meg to talk to me, but so far I haven't gotten through to her. It's like she's built a brick wall around her heart, and maybe it'll be a different story if her father tries to reach her. But in all your shooting sessions, you haven't really tried to...."
"OK OK, I get the point," Peter said aloofly, hoping to mollify his wife. "I'll go talk to her." At first, Lois looked overjoyed that she haf finally convinced Peter to take Meg's plight seriously, but her hopes were crushed when he added, "Right after this special is over. It's the greatest moments in wrestling.... OH! Here's the time where Triple H called out General Grievous!"
On the TV screen, both Triple H and General Grievous are seen standing in the ring. Triple H jawed away on a microphone and pointed his finger accusatorily at Grievous. "Because I am The Game, and I am THAT DAMN GOOD!!" he finished.
For several moments Grievous stood perfectly still, carefully regarding Triple H, with occassional blinking being the only sign of life on the cyborg's part. Then, at last, all four of his robotic arms spread out. But instead of lightsabers, Grievous produced four yo-yos, and used all of them to pelt Triple H relentlessly. Triple H was instantly reduced to a squirming heap on the floor, pathetically crying out in pain. "OW OW OW OW OW OW!!" he cried over and over.
However, unbeknownst to both Peter and Lois, their daughter was watching them at that moment through the window. Her troubled mind kept her from getting any desperately needed sleep, and now Meg knelt beside her house, peering into it. The sight of her family spending a comfortable evening in the house, while she was stuck outside and relegated to a tent, was heartwrenching. They all seemed to be doing just fine without her, as usual. Especially Peter, who appeared to be content to just kick back and watch television after a long day of making her star in his movie.
Meg fought back tears once again as she stood back up. She had always felt like the outcast of the family...a notion usually reinforced by everyone's attitude toward her. But at least until now, she always had a place in their home. Now she couldn't even fit inside, literally left on the outside looking in. She stared down at what was once her home, now little more than an elaborate dollhouse to her, which barely came up to her knees. The battle to keep tears from flowing got even harder.
What was the most galling, though, was her father's insistence on going through with this movie, despite how much she hated it. She had no idea why she was going on with it when one flick of her finger was all it would take to end the discussion. Perhaps she was afraid of disappointing him. After being treated coldly for so long, things between them were slowly starting to change, especially after Peter watched her beat up the jackass that rear-ended them, and then after she almost died in that flood. If she told him to shove it, that could ruin everything.
Still, I can't believe he'd even consider doing this...it doesn't matter how much we need the money, Meg thought as she turned away from the house. Oh God, what did I ever do to deserve being nothing but a freak all my life? she windering silently, hoping against hope that God would hear her prayers and bring this nightmare to an end.
At that moment in Heaven, God's phone rang, possibly to alert him of Meg's prayer. Unfortunately, God was occupied at the moment, playing the latest wrestling video game with Jesus and providing a good amount of trash-talkin'.
And incidentally, God and Jesus had used the game's create-a-wrestler feature to slap together likenesses of Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama. The two on-screen personas were busily kicking each other's ass. But all of a sudden, a likeness of John McCain slid into the ring with a folding chair, and promptly smacked both of them upside the head with it, knocking them flat on their asses.
(AN: The above two paragraphs was meant to be one thing: a joke. It does not reflect my religious or politicial views in any way. And while we're on this subject, neither did that Hillary joke near the beginning. This gag was meant for a cheap laugh and nothing more. Do not flame me, lambasting me with a religious or politicial diatribe. Those who do will have a crate filled with rabid, man-eating, mutated rabbits delivered to their doorstep.)
Meg turned to walk back behind the house to her tent, hoping to finally get some sleep. But something caught her eye as she looked down on the ground. It looked like one of the bushes around Quagmire's hard had moved. Meg stared down at it intently, wondering if she had imagined it. As she eyed it carefully, she swore she saw it rustle again.
Is someone in there? Who'd bother hiding? she wondered. The answer hit her like a ton of bricks. Her eyes narrowed angrily as she glared down at the unseen stalker. "NEIL!! That's you, isn't it!? I should've known you'd stoop to stalking me again!! SHOW YOURSELF!!" she demanded vociferously.
Several moments passed, but no one emerged from the bush. "That's it...I'm in NO MOOD tonight!!" Meg thundered, lifting one foot up high in the air. "Either you come out now or...."
"Meg, I'm over here," came a calm reply from down below, but behind her.
Meg carefully set her foot down and glanced over her shoulder. Indeed, Neil was right behind her, standing beside a parked pick-up truck, with a tarp tied down over the back to conceal its cargo. He looked up at Meg, but with an expression of confusion rather that lust. She stared down with a confused look as well. "Neil, h-how did you get behind me? I-I thought you were in that bush."
"What are you talking about? I just got here," said Neil, shrugging his shoulders.
"B-But, if you weren't hiding in that bush, then who...." Meg began, but her words trailed off when she heard the all-too familiar 'giddity giddity giddity.' One glance down at her foot revealed it was indeed Quagmire, who lay sprawled out on her sneaker wearing nothing but a bathrobe. Oh yeah, I forgot Neil's not the only one in Quahog with a sick fetish, she thought with a sigh. Luckily, one swift kick was all it took to rid her of that annoyance, sending Quagmire sailing a distance of over ten blocks.
Meg then turned around and glared down at Neil. "Well, that rids me of one crazed pervert," she said coldly. "Now, care to explain what you're doing here before I decide to make it a double play?"
Meg squinted as she looked down, trying to make out Neil's expression, which was hard due to the limited light. However, it still looked like his normal self-assured expression. "Well, since it's been so long since we last spoke, I was hoping we could spend some time together and catch up," he said in his usual sly manner as he walked to the back of the truck. "But if not...." Neil untied the tarp and pulled it off, revealing a cargo area full of apples. "I guess I'll just go, and find someone else I can share all these apples with. I spent all day pilfering these from orchards, but, if you don't want them...."
Meg's brow furrowed in annoyance. "THIS is your plan to win me over? Bribe me with stolen food?"
"Is it working?" Neil asked knavishly.
"Yes," Meg said simply. She reached down for the truck, picked it up, and swallowed the whole load of apples in one gulp. As she carefully set the truck back down, she couldn't help but botice Neil looking up at her again, with a sly, expectant look. "You really do find this titillating, don't you?" she asked in disbelief. "Why is that? I've been trying to figure it out for days."
"Well, why don't we go someplace private, and we can talk about it," suggested Neil silkily.
"Oh, and where would you suggest? My TENT?" asked Meg hotly.
"I would never be so presumptuous," said Neil. "But I would ask that, wherever you decide to go, if you would be so kind as to give me a lift. Gas prices and all that."
Meg sighed in annoyance. She had no idea why she was cursed with this pest. But he DID just bring her a midnight snack, so she figured she owed him for that, at the very least. And so, she got down on one knee and carefully lowered her hand to pick Neil up. Meg expected Neil to instinctively retreat as her tree trunk-like fingers came closer and closer, but he stood his ground, his gaze never wavering from her face. Her fingers curled around him, and with her thumb planted firmly against his chest to hold him in place, she slowly lifted him off the sidewalk. Just as she expected, Neil looked as if his wildest dreams had come true. Meg sighed again as she lumbered down the street, trying to think of a place where no one would bother them...and then spread gossip like wildfire.
Eventually, Meg settled for the local park, which would be abandoned at this time of night. She carefully walked through it, making sure she didn't step on any playground equipment. Once Meg found a spot spacious enough to sit down and stretch out, she dropped down, and she had no doubt she made a tremor that woke up everyone in a five block radius.
Meg looked down at the tiny boy still held firmly in her hand, who looked more enraptured than ever before. "Meg, for the last five minutes alone, I owe you my soul."
Meg sighed and rolled her eyes. She then brought Neil up to her face. "Neil, I've got to come clean and finally ask.... Just WHAT is it about me that you find so attractive?" she asked the man in her hand. "Just about all the girls at our school are prettier than I'll ever be...and you constantly have to come on to someone like me. Why?"
Neil leered back at Meg with his usual guileful look. "Oh Meg, to ask that shows such a dangerous lack of self-esteem...and incidentally, that's one of the reasons."
"Huh?"
"For as long as I've known you, I've seen how sullen and depressed you always are, in desperate need of a man who would be there to lend his support. And so, for all these years, I've strived to be that man who's always there."
"Yeah, you certainly have," said Meg flatly. He used to ask her out almost every day, stalked her and filmed her while at home, and Meg wasn't naive enough to believe that it was only Quagmire who sorted through their garbage looking for toenail clippings, discarded makeup pads and used tampons. "But I still don't get why you'd find ME attractive. Even I don't think I'm attractive in any sense of the word. I've always thought, 'Oh why can't he lust after girls with supermodel looks and annoy THEM?'"
"Oh Meg, again I must point about that the outward appearance does not always mirror a woman's inner beauty," said Neil empathically. "And besides, I firmly believe that the mass media does many girls harm by bombarding them with images of what the ideal body type is, encouraging them to go to dangerous extremes. I personally don't mind if a girl is a little chubby, especially when compared to some stuck-up, bony, brainless, anorexic skank who could probably cut diamonds with her elbows."
Meg raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious?"
"Let me put it this way: what's more embraceable, a big teddy bear or a butcher knife?" asked Neil.
"I, uh, never thought of it that way," Meg said, not sure of what to make of Neil's question. "But still, I don't get what you see in here. I'm short and dumpy...well, I USED to be short," she added quickly with a small laugh. "And then I've got these ugly glasses...."
"Some would regard glasses as a sign of geekiness, but I think differently," said Neil. "First of all, ask any guy who's into Japanese animation, and they'll quickly tell you that the female characters with glasses always have a strange allure. Furthermore, I firmly believe that glasses give off an air of refinement and intellectual prowess, and unlike my fellow men who fall victim to their macho egos, I seek a woman whose intelligence, at the very least, equals my own towering intellect."
Meg couldn't help but look surprised. "Really?"
"But of course. It should come as no surprise, really. For instance, in classic English and American literature, you will find that the wearing of glasses is indeed used symbolically to show an air of intelligence," Neil went on. Then he slyly added, "One good example would be Gulliver's Travels by Johnathan Swift."
At first, Meg didn't get the joke Neil threw out, but when she did, her expression changed from astonishment to annoyance. "Oh, ha ha ha ha ha," Meg laughed tonelessly. "And that brings me to the last thing I just don't get: this obsession with giant girls. I've been racking my brains for days trying to figure out what guys would find so sexy about a Godzilla-sized woman, and I can't figure it out. I still can't believe this stupid movie of Dad's can be a success."
"Oh, believe me, it will," said Neil.
"You're gonna buy it, aren't you?" Meg asked him, narrowing her eyes.
"Already got my copy preordered," replied Neil. Meg glared at him dangerously. Perhaps sensing it was to his advantage to change the subject, Neil went on. "Now, as to why so many men would kill to be in the position I find myself in now, I'm afraid I have no concrete answer," he said, gently stroking the side of her huge hand. The scientific community is at a loss as well, mostly only offering theories that amount to little more than Freudian bulls*BLEEEP*. We simply have no idea what it is about a giant girl that turns us on. All those whom I've talked with online, however, can all agree that, for some reason, we simply love the idea of a woman displaying pure, unbridled power. Is that so hard to believe?"
Meg thought back to all the things she had done for the movie so far, and realized that most of them, like eating an entire shark and crushing cars underfoot, did indeed involve using her size to wreak havoc. Still, she was confused about how Neil or anyone else would be turned on by that. "Actually, Neil, it IS hard to believe. I just don't see how guys would...."
"What? Willingly submit themselves to a woman's will?" Neil cut in. "Sure, throughout history men have sought to lord over women, but you must believe that there are a few out there who desire the opposite."
Meg said nothing, simply staring back at the man whose life was literally in her hands. She still didn't quite understand his obsession, but despite herself, Meg found herself to be genuinely touched by this confession that he wanted to freely submit to the girl of his dreams, not the other way around. And as she thought back to everything else Neil had told her, Meg started to realize there just might be more to Neil than just the obnoxious, lecherous side she usually saw.
"You know Neil, sometimes you can be the most annoying, obnoxious jerk in Quahog. But sometimes, you're alright," Meg admitted, forcing herself to smile.
"Meg, just hearing those last two sentences pass your lips will ensure I die a happy man," said Neil.
Meg sighed and shook her head, but couldn't help but smile again. Unfortunately, as she shook her head, her neck suddenly exploded with a sharp, stinging pain. "OWW!!" she cried, almost dropping Neil as her free hand flew to nurse her aching neck.
"Meg, what's wrong?" Neil asked in a concerned voice.
"Oh, it's probably because of all these shooting sessions. Making this movie isn't as easy as you may think," said Meg. She kept on massaging her neck, but the nagging pain refused to go away.
"Perhaps I may be of assistance. Just set me down on your shoulder, and I'll see what I can do," Neil offered.
Meg regarded Neil with a dubious stare, wondering if this was a ploy to score some cheap thrills. But as the fiery pain grew worse, she finally relented. "OK, fine. But I'm warning you, no funny stuff," Meg warned. Then she carefully set Neil down on her shoulder. She could barely feel his feet as he walked over to her neck. For a moment, she didn't feel anything. "Neil, what do you think you're...." she began, but then she felt a sharp poke in the side of her neck.
Then the pain disappeared.
Meg's eyes widened in surprise as relief overwhelmed her. "Neil, how'd you do that? How you'd know that would work?"
"For now, let that be my little secret," she heard Neil say.
Meg turned her head, gazing down at the little man struggling to keep his footing on her shoulder. It was quite an amusing sight, almost making her laugh. She plucked him off her shoulder and brought him back up to her face. She'd never consider Neil the most attractive boy ever, but as much as she hated to admit it, there were some good things about him. And Meg remembered how she was overcome by insane jealousy upon finding out that, at one point, he had given up trying to woo her over and hooked up with another girl. Meg couldn't deny that, without realizing it, Neil had actually started to grow on her, and had taken it for granted that he'd always be trying to win her over.
Meg reached for Neil with her other hand. This time, Neil actually resisted as her fingers reached for his head, trying to remove his cap. She got it off soon enough, then begun to ruffle his short, curly hair with her fingertip. She could see that Neil was relishing the attention, and she had to admit it was kind of fun to have a guy she could lord over completely. "Well, if I can believe everything you said, it's nice to know that if I'm stuck this way, there's at least one guy I can count on," said Meg.
The next morning, somewhere along the beaches of Florida, Connie D'Amico laid herself face-down on a towel, ready to soak up some sun. After several days of wilding partying and boozing, she decided that she could use at least one relaxing morning of sunbathing. There would be plenty of time for more partying later this evening. Too bad spring break's almost over, Connie thought as she undid her bikini top, ensuring she got the best tan possible. Oh well, at least I'll have humiliating that cow Meg Griffin to look forward to.
Just thinking about Meg made her blood boil all over again. Not only was there the fact that fat, whiny losers like her had no right to exist, there was the fact that her whole family had caused her nothing but trouble. Her family dog had the gall to insult her at the school prom, and now that she thought about it, she swore it was actually Meg's baby brother who framed her as a pedophile and got her arrested. And of course, there was her father....
Connie's hand instinctively rushed to her forehead, feeling the scar that had caused her so much aggravation. For now, she had been able to cover it up with makeup and hats, but it still felt like a blight, even though no one else usually saw it. Connie had always prided herself for her looks, and that fat bastard had permanently ruined them. Well, once school started again, she'd dedicate every waking moment to making Meg's life a living hell....
"Hey Connie." Connie looked up to see her friends staring over her. "What's up?" asked one of them.
"Oh, just thinking of the best way to humiliate Meg once we get back to Rhode Island," said Connie. "I wish I could've seen the look on her face when she opened my 'package.' Come to think of it, maybe I should start off with pig's blood again, only this time in a place where everyone can see her...."
"Yeah, good luck. You'll have to slaughter an entire herd of livestock to get enough blood now!" said one of her close female friends. "Actually, we'd better watch our step once we get back home, or we'll all get stepped on."
Connie looked at her dubiously. "Just what the hell are you talking about?" she asked tersely.
All her friends nervously glanced at each other. "Uh, Connie...haven't you been watching the news or reading the papers?" asked another one of her friends.
"Tch, why would I? I thought we were on vacation," Connie said comtemptuously.
"This is why. Read it and weep." One of them fished out the latest copy of Newsweek and dropped it in front of her face.
Connie grabbed it and looked at the cover. Her jaw dropped instantly. The word 'disbelief' didn't even come close to describing the shock of seeing Meg's fat carcass plastered on the front cover. At first, she thought this was all some elaborate prank...Meg looked as if she was over a hundred feet tall, spewing water into a burning apartment building.
After flipping through the issue and skimming the cover story, however, Connie soon realized that it was no joke. This was an actual issue of Newsweek. All the photographs, field reports, interviews with doctors and scientists...no way her friends would go THIS FAR to pull a practical joke like this.
If the article was to be believed, Meg Griffin had become the talk of Quahog - no, the entire NATION - overnight! In the last few days, countless newspaper articles and television spots had been devoted to her. And as she skimmed the magazine some more, it said that her family was making some sort of independent movie about her! Not only that, even though some people in Quahog remained fearful and suspicious of Meg, many more were hailing her as a hero for getting everyone out of that burning building, and were even clamoring that she be given the keys to the city!
Connie tore the magazine in half, enraged by envy. SHE was supposed to be the most popular girl at James Woods High! SHE was the one who was supposed to go one and become a movie star! And now, almost overnight, that cow Meg had gained fame and fortune all because of some freak accident!
Connie glared up at her friends, her eyes filled with hatred and envy. "Get the van ready. We're going back to Quahog NOW," she said resolutely.
They all looked at each other, their confusion palpable. Sensing their indecision, she spoke up again, "Listen all of you, I am NOT going to let this overgrown freak get away with this, not after everything she and her family's done to me!! I swear, I'll find some way to bring that fat bitch down, no matter how long it takes!!!" And with that, Connie sprang to her feet and headed back for their hotel room.
Unfortunately, in her haste, Connie forgot to retie her bikini top....