Gamblin' Gal...KAREN

[pinchingyourballs]

Karen Nathan was excited. Tonight was going to be her first time attending an official meeting of the Florida Underground Club of Karens & Alternate Spellings -- F.U.C.K.A.S. -- a support group and social club for women named Karen and other spelling variations thereof. She had on her finest casino carpet design muumuu and matching velour handbag, smartly accented with a purple sunhat from the dollar store. Finally I get to spend some quality time with women of culture, she mused.

As Karen entered the meeting hall, she was greeted by a cheerful woman who handed her a "My name is ___" sticker and sharpie.

"What's this for?" Karen Nathan asked. "Ain't we all named Karen here?"

"Oh yes, but some of us spell it a standard way and others have more, uh, creative spins on the old standard. It's very important to have your spelling displayed. You'll see when you get inside the ball room."

Our heroine Karen Nathan obliged and wrote KAREN in her neatest handwriting, then affixed the sticker over her bosom. As she neared the ballroom entrance, she heard the hustle and bustle of hundreds of Karens (and as she would soon discover, Carens, Karyns, Kerens, Karrens, Karennes, and even a Quran) tittering and laughing loudly. Once inside she immediately espied a buffet table. They better have shrimp cocktails, she mused, I loves me some shrimp.

While piling her plate high with h'ors d'oeuvres, Karen Nathan noticed three timid ladies huddled together whispering in harsh tones. They sounded a bit frightened and were staring intently at Karen Nathan. Karen frowned.

"You bitches got a problem with my horse doovers? I ain't ate lunch today, I'm hungry, a'ight?" Karen noticed their name tags. One was a Caren, one a Caron, and one a Caryn. Weird, Karen mused, I never noticed how odd it looks to spell Karen with a C. Glad mine is spelt the normal way.

Just then a tall, confident looking woman approached her from the side, holding out her hand. "Hi! My name's Karen Kentry. You're new here, so you should know that we have a pecking order of Karens. Those of us who spell it K-A-R-E-N are at the top of the heap, so to speak." Then Karen Kentry bent down low and whispered, "And each meeting we sacrifice one among us with a lesser spelling. Usually someone with a C, but last week the sacrifice was an unfortunate Kerrynn."

Karen Nathan chewed and swallowed her shrimp before asking the most natural question: "What for?"

Karen Kentry smiled mysteriously, "According to the Popul Vuh, Hun Hunahpu will emerge from Xibalba only after an appropriate number of sacrifices of women whose name sounds like Karen."

Karen Nathan was taken aback. Everyone knew Classical Mayan literature made no mention of Karens or the need to sacrifice them. "That is a completely unorthodox interpretation of the Popul Vuh. It almost sounds like you are doing a mash-up of Mesoamerican mythologies in order to justify garden variety sadism."

Just then the ballroom lights dimmed and a voice came in over the intercom: "Ladies, if you would all assume your battle positions..."

[pinchingyourballs]

In the dark, Karen Kentry grabbed Karen Nathan's hand and led her two a cordoned off VIP area where many women named "Karen" were seated. Karen Kentry explained, "Now there will be a battle between Karens with lesser spellings. You see in the corner over there, the Carens and Carins have an alliance. Over there, the Karyns and Karins are allied. Due to their strength in numbers, they never end up at the bottom when the rankings come out, so we haven't yet needed to sacrifice a Karyn or Karin."

"But Ms. Kentry," Karen Nathan protested, "In many parts of northern Europe, the spelling Karin is considered standard."

"Well, this the armpit of Florida, not northern Europe," Karen Kentry retorted.

Karen Nathan watched the proceedings with horror and revulsion. A small group of women named Qa'Wren, Quran, Kherrinne, Ckairn, Kare'Un, and Caerrhyn were shitting on the floor, while two women named Qeiryyn and Cheron were using their bare hands to form it into a wall of protection. Karen Nathan asked her companion, "Those women have the most retarded spellings of Karen that I have ever seen. What the fuck is they doing with their feces?"

"They are trying to survive."

[MisterV]

Meanwhile, Karen Karin Tasha had missed the last bus and while walking home she heard the clamor of female voices coming from inside a former Masonic temple; curious she peeked inside and was rendered unconscious.

Shortly thereafter the interloper awoke, finding herself in the middle of a makeshift wrestling ring, surrounded by women chanting "Kill...,maim...destroy the spy..."

"What is I and I doin' in heah?"

"We FUCKASes don't take kindly to spies" answered a rather formidable specimen, holding a miter in one hand and a mace in the other.

"Wha' spies? I and I was jes walkin' home fro' work an was cur-yus, 'dat's all."

"So you say...let's look in your hideous handbag and see who you REALLY are..."

The hideous handbag was dumped on the floor, its contents rifled through, and then a loud scream came from the woman holding Karen Karin Tasha's purse: "IT IS SHE!"

Silence gripped the room like the hand of a drunken sailor cupping the breast of a ten dollar crack whore.

"It is SHE whom we have long awaited: our Savior has finally arrived!"

The Walgreen's slug didn't understand exactly what was happening but she was happy to see the change in the mood of the room and listened carefully.

"As it was written in the Karan lo those many years ago a savior has emerged to lead us so that we once again rule the world. All hail Karen Karin!"

In Pavlovian response the women all farted briskiy, tunefully, then blissfully breathed the collective aroma.

Quickly grasping the dynamics of the situation Karen Karin Tasha unfurled a true gut-ripper, one for the ages; it held a high "C" for ten seconds then concluded with a devastating thunderclap, followed by the foulest stench imaginable, permeating the air to a redolent degree..

"A sign! It truly is SHE whom we've long awaited."

The befuddled Bingo addict silently thanked her lucky stars that her mother's autism, ADHD and native stupidity had confused her while filling out Karen Karin's birth certificate; until now she'd only been mocked and jeered for her naming.

Karen Karin Tasha found that being lionized, worshiped and adored like this was preferable: she boldly stood up, eyed the ladies surrounding her and said "I and I has a 'portant 'nouncement..."