I knew this hot biker chick who got shoved against the wall by some high school cheerleader at a fast food Taco restaurant. The two had had words in the past and the biker chick, who was 25 pounds lighter than the cheerleader and two inches shorter, had tried to shove her on the way out the door. That's when the girl pinned her against the wall and immobilized the 31-year-old. The blonde, whose name was Brooke--a dancer at a local strip club--just raised her hands up to surrender because she couldn't get the girl off her. She was pissed after the encounter and wanted to get back at her. That's why she headed to a teen hangout to confront her. Unfortunately, the girl had an answer for her, then another girl gang member intervened and put her in her place. I'll say this in advance--the two high school girls were both eighteen and were part of a gang. These girls are brutal and don't care who you are. Cross one of them and you could end up swimming with the fishes down at the ravine or taken into a culvert and terrorized. That's how some of these girls deal with biker women or girls who cross them, and this slim, tight-jeaned biker chick was no exception. Anyway, here's how the scenario played out.
"There's that cocky high school bitch," the blonde Brooke told her brunette friend Brandy. "I'm going to go over there and kick her ass." She sipped her beer from the bottle.
"Don't, Brooke. You remember what happened at the restaurant".
"So what. She surprised me with that act of violence."
Brooke sashayed over toward the cheerleader who was with several friends.
“Hey, high school girl,” shouted Brooke. Allison turned her head and spotted Brooke. The right side of her lip curled into a snarl as she eyed the woman.
“What the hell are you doing here, bitch? This is Teen Night, not Thirty and Over Night.” She looked at one of her friends, laughed, then looked back at Brooke.
“I came to talk to you.”
Allison chuckled as she exchanged furtive glances with both of her friends. “Oh, yeah. What about?”
“About your stupid gang, the Fiends, and the crap you're causing around town..”
Allison eyed her two friends again, then looked back at Brooke. “Never heard of them.” She rolled her eyes. Her friends laughed.
Brooke took a step toward Allison and pointed her beer bottle at her. “You’re lying, high school cheerleader, and you know it.”
Allison shook her head. “You’re delusional, bitch, not to mention rude.” She flicked her right hand at Brook. “Why don’t you and this other stripper skank just take a hike.”
“I’m not going anywhere, cheerleader bitch.” Allison grit her teeth.
“Why don’t you call the bouncer over,” one girl said.
“I’ll take care of this myself,” said Allison.
Allison turned toward Brooke. “I don’t know who you think you are, biker bitch, but I don’t like being called a liar.”
“You are liar.”
“Brooke,” said Brandy. “Come on.” She grabbed Brooke’s arm. Brooke jerked her arm away.
Allison looked at Brandy, then back at Brooke.
“Okay. I’m going to give you five seconds to walk away,” said Allison. “And if you don’t, I’m going to knock you out. Is that what you want, to get your ass kicked in front of all my classmates? I thought you got the message last time at Taco Hut.”
“F*ck you, high school girl.”
Brooke, who’d had a couple drinks before she left her apartment, was a little tipsy. She stepped forward and shoved Allison’s shoulder. Allison shoved Brooke back. The blonde almost lost her balance. When Brooke stepped toward her again, Allison jerked the bottle out of her hand and grabbed Brooke’s belt buckle. She then yanked on her belt, stuck the neck of the beer bottle down Brooke’s jeans and emptied the contents into her pants.
“Oooooo,” one girl shouted. “I bet that bald little kitty of yours is cold.”
Brooke stood there with a look of horror on her face as she watched the Corona stain the front of her jeans. “Oh, you f*ckin’ bitch,” shouted Brooke. “I’m going to kick your ass.”
She raised her arm to slap Allison. Just as arced her swing around, some tall fat girl grabbed Brooke’s right wrist and jerked her arm down. She then grabbed Brooke by the neck of her shirt, pulled her toward her and stuck her round face next to Brooke’s thin oval one. “Nobody’s kicking anyone’s ass here tonight, especially you.”
“Get off me, you fat cow,” shouted Brooke. She tried to pull her shirt loose from the girl’s viselike grasp but couldn’t. “Let go of me.”
“Fight,” some guy shouted. A crowd of high school students started circling around the scene. The fat girl glared at Brooke, then clenched her fist.
“Smash the bitch, Gretchen,” shouted one of the girls. At least a dozen classmates pulled their cell phones out and started filming the incident.
"Beat her bloody, Gretchen," said another girl. "These biker chicks deserve to get their asses beaten. They think they're hot shit, prancing around in their tight little jeans."
Gretchen released her grip on Brooke’s blouse. The blonde staggered backward a couple steps in her boots as the beer suds crept up her vagina and ass crack. Brooke felt miserable and humiliated. Brandy tried to grab her arm, but Brooke shook her hand away. She then looked up at the tall, hefty girl.
“I’m not afraid of you, fatso.”
“You should be,” said Gretchen, "unless you want to become a permanent stain on that floor."
Brooke's throat churned. Rather than be embarrassed and ignore the indignity, she stepped forward and tried to shove the girl. Gretchen didn’t budge an inch. She just smirked, grabbed Brooke’s shoulder, leaned forward and socked her in the gut with an upper cut. The dull thud from the blow caused Brandy to cringe.
“Uhhhhhh!” Brooke sank to her knees. She then looked up at the girl—mouth agape. She grabbed her stomach with both hands and started retching. She then leaned forward and vomited on the floor.
A bunch of girls started laughing and pointing at Brooke. Gretchen grabbed the back of Brooke’s hair and jerked her head back. Brooke moaned as the girl pulled her hair back even further, bending her backward like a doughy pretzel. Her eyes were closed as she grimaced in pain—
the ass of her jeans planted on the heels of her boots. Puke was caked on her mouth.
“I suggest you and your friend get the hell out of her right now,” said Gretchen. She yanked on Brooke’s hair again. Brooke screamed. “And if I ever see you in this place again, it’ll be the end of you. You hear me, biker cxnt?”
She released Brooke’s hair. Brooke fell sideways but still landed on her hands and knees. Gretchen placed her foot on the woman’s ass and shoved her to her stomach on the floor. A bouncer walked over and helped Brooke up off the floor.
“Come on, Blondie. It’s time to go. And I better not see you in this place again.”
Gretchen watched the bouncer escort the tight-jeaned biker chick to the door. She was holding her stomach with her left hand. The woman almost fell a couple times as she staggered out the door. Gretchen chuckled to herself. She then tapped Allison on the shoulder, leaned toward her and said, “Who was that bitch?”
“Some thirty-one-year-old biker chick named Brooke Wilde, who works at Rodeo Cowgirls in Munroe. She’s a stripper.”
“That explains things,” said Gretchen.
“How’s that?”
“She’s been spotted around town several times making drops and selling drugs. She showed up at the old, abandoned park a couple nights ago.”
“Really?” said Allison.
“Yeah, some girl bought a load of stuff from her.”
“So, what do we do?”
Gretchen gazed around the room. As far as she could tell, people were no longer paying attention to her and the girls. An Ava Max song came on. Gretchen looked back at Allison.
“It’s initiation time and we’re going to end up terrorizing some of these women. The strategy has worked like a charm in the past. But rest assured, these biker chicks will be dealt with. Some more severely. And it’s likely to get pretty bloody.”
Brooke was beat up by some huge girl (also 18), tossed around like a crash test dummy and terrorized down at the culvert a couple weeks later. The fight was pretty bloody, but Brooke survived. Next time, she could face a far worse fate. .
BMR
