Hi, I wrote as a case of “what if.” What if Gia didn’t get AIDS and lived long enough? What if Gia kicked her drug habits before it lead to her downward spiral? What if Gia and Sandy’s relationship lasted long?
Well I created an Alternative Universe story that came up with my idea of “what if.”
They were staying in a two story vacation home on the Canadian side of the Cascade Range. The house was basically surrounded by the numerous conifers that populated the area. The house included a pasture with a few white stallions. This was the idea setting for Gia and Sandy for they were far away from the blinding lights of the camera flashes, the annoying paparazzi troops that stalk them, the demanding photographers, the shallow discotheques, and the hisses of their former lovers. This was a perfect place for Gia and Sandy to spend some precious quality time together, something that was next to impossible in New York. They were there for four days before I paid a visit to them.
“This is a wonderful place Gia; I really don’t wanna leave here anytime soon. It’s one of those few moments in my life where I don’t mind being away from the craziness and fast-paced world of New York City.” Sandy said.
“Neither do I.” Gia said, feeling that she had found a sense of inner peace that she’s been longing for most of her life.
Little did they know that I was able to find where they were staying. It wasn’t so hard to find them since it was the only place in the area that had a Pontiac Firebird with a neon-glowing Pennsylvania licence plate frame parked, and yes the license plate was personalised.
Gia then gave Sandy and deep and passionate kiss that made Sandy quiver. While they were busy with each other I was able to break into the house quietly. I must admit they chose a good vacation home, too bad they won’t be able to enjoy it for long.
I went upstairs heading towards their bedroom with my Magnum on my side. It wasn’t too hard to find the bedroom since I could hear their loud moans and groans in the hallway. Now that I’m near the door it’s time for me to straighten out the situation. As soon as I got close to the bedroom door I kicked it open. That really startled Gia and Sandy, who had their fingers in each other’s smelly cherries. Sandy screamed like hell when I entered.
“AHHHHHHH! Who are you and what are you doing here?”
“For your first question that’s for me to know and for you to never find out, and for your second question I’m here to straighten you two lawnmowers out…but first put on some god damn clothes! And while you’re at it spray some Lysol up in here, this place smells like a god-damn wharf!”
“How da fuck didja geddin here?” Gia said to me angrily while she was busy putting on her extra-tight Bebe T-shirt she got on sale at Macy’s. I should have slapped the shit out of that guidette for back talking to me.
“The home security in this damn place ain’t worth shit! While you two female-faggots were busy playing with each other’s pussies, I was able to break in with ease.”
Gia was about to pull her switchblade on me, but I quickly pulled out my Magnum with my left hand and was aiming right at her head.
“Don’t even try it bitch.”
“Yanno you ain’t no tuff goy! I betcha can’t even beaddup yo own mutha!”
This guinea pig doesn’t know me too well does she? I’m a muscular 115 kilograms and nearly 2 metres tall man that is diverse in various fighting styles and have killed many butch fags and bulldykes with my bare hands. Well since she always wanted to BE LIKE A MAN, I’ll give her this opportunity to try and fight me so I give that lesbica a BEATING LIKE A MAN. Hey I read that stupid book “A Thing of Beauty.” I know that she tried to make herself a boy so that her father would love her better.
“OK Gia Pet, let’s take care of this the old fashion way because it’s time for me to straighten you out. Come and give me your best shot you pussy-eating, titties-sucking bitch! I’m gonna take you down like how I took down another model, Tila Tequila (1).”
So Gia put on some canvas Slip-On Keds then she came rushing to me. She tries to throw a right hook at me but I blocked it very quickly. It wasn’t that I was afraid of her punches; it was that I was afraid of those sticky fingers touching me. Then I gave her some good solid punches to her stomach and then a knockout left hook to her chin. She was down for the count. That gave me some time to focus on Sandy.
“Why are you doing this to us?”
“Because you’re a sexually-confused, pussy-eating slut!”
“But I’m 100% straight!”
When she said that I couldn’t stop myself from laughing at that ridiculous comment, I mean come on…
“Yeah right, and I’m 100% American!”
“No bitch! Not even 1%”
As well, I quickly grabbed her head and slammed it on the bed stand. Then I grabbed her sandy blond hair and dragged her to the hallway. She tried to scratch me along the way with her Lee Press-On nails but I quickly grabbed her hands and snapped each of her fingers backwards. Then I brought her down to the steps and threw her down to it. While she was tumbling down the steps I was laughing my ass off.
When she finally got down to the step I came down there and picked her up by her hair.
“Since you have no problems swinging both ways let me introduce you to someone else who also likes to swing both ways.”
Thus I pulled out my favourite weapon, The Solution. It’s a modified cricket bat with a titanium core in the middle so it will have a stronger effect of straighten out those sexually confused nymphos. I got it from my trip to England. (1)
“This is for lying through your teeth on ABC.” CRACK!
“And this is for having an annoying New York accent.” CRACK!
“And this is being stupid enough to date and fuck Gia.” CRACK!
“And this is for eating Gia’s clam linguine.” CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
By now she was no longer pretty, she was bloodied, beaten and was hardly able to stand. This was the perfect time to finish her off, so I tied her up tightly on a table with barbed wires that I brought with me. What I was about to do was going to be excruciatingly painful for Sandy and she would be screaming in agony, so I got a filthy rag (one of those stupid rainbow flags fags and dykes like to show off), wiped my dick on it and then shoved it in her mouth. Then I got my branding iron and heated it on their stove. When it was a bright orange-yellow color, I grabbed it and burned the word “DENIAL” on her forehead. When I was done I pulled out a mirror so I can show her what I did to her, she was now in tears.
“Well now trashy cunt you ain’t so pretty anymore? None of your makeup skills will cover that.”
It made her cry some more but it also gave me a reason to laugh at her some more. I also brought with me a small yet powerful generator that had two leads attached to it. So I turned on the generator and told Sandy a few words:
“Sandy you might consider yourself 100% straight, which is a laugh in itself, but my own version of electro-shock therapy will make sure that you will always be 100% straight.”
Now she was wailing and moaning like Anita Baker, and they say New York girls are tough…that’s bullshit; they’re weak pussies just like the rest of the bitches in America. Besides, that’s what she gets for tongue-twisting Gia’s…”
“Does a little bit of electricity scare you bitch? You shouldn’t be since you have no problems going AC/DC.”
So I finally put the leads on her temples. First her head and then her body started to shake. After that her eyes popped out of her socket and she started to foam in her mouth, however I wasn’t going to stop yet. Finally her head explodes.
“Well at least she went out with a bang…”
Now it’s time to play one of my favourite games: Whack the Wop!
So I went back upstairs and found that guidette Gia still lying on the floor unconscious. But before I send Gay Gia a one-way ticket to hell I had to put on some music. It gets me in the groove when I kicking somebody’s ass. I got my iPOD stereo system and started to play an appropriate music for this setting: Laid Back’s “White Horse.”
I was about to grab her by her arms but then I remembered how greasy Italians are, so I grabbed her by her hair (not very hard to do, there’s a lot of that on an Italian), but it was laced with a whole lot of Aqua Net. I smacked that lesbo-ho so hard, those big-ass fake gold-hoop earrings she was wearing flew off of her.
She woke up and told me “Whaddaya want? Whya doin dis to me?”
“You want to know why?”
“Cause you’re a Dumb Dago Dyke!”
“No I’m not, Imma intelligent Italian lesbian dats very ahticoolait!”
When that Dumb Dago Dyke told me that bullshit I busted out laughing.
“You articulate? HAHAHAHAHA! Now that’s some funny-ass shit. Sylvester Stallone is more articulate than your uneducated, excuse me I mean unedjumacated ass. Well since you’re so god-damn intelligent, tell me what does this expression means: Batti il ferro quando è caldo.”
“Howma s’pos ta kna whaddit means? I dunno Swedish or Chinese!”
Right then and there any sense of composure I had was gone, for I was literally rolling on the floor laughing my ass off. When I got back my composure I sad to her:
“God damn bitch you’re stupid! Hey Gia, I know that you’re into smack, so I brought some for you.”
Gia’s eyes lit up really big when she heard that, she simply responded “Really?”
“Yep, here it is…”
So with all the power on my left hand I smack that shit out of that Dumb Dago Dyke. Then I started to smack that spoiled guinea brat all over the place, like how Carlo smacked Connie around in “The Godfather.” That Dumb Dago Dkye started to cry.
“Please stop it!”
“Shut da fuck up bitch! No one’s going to save your bearded clam-smacking ass. Not Angelina Jolie and her big-ass lips, not Stephen Fried, not Maurice Tannenbaum, not Rob Gay, not Sharon Beverly (or whatever her real name is), not Karen Karuza, not that trashy cunt Janice Dicksucker I mean Dickinson, not your flaky aunt (Gia’s youngest aunt), not your fucked-up brothers, not your self-absorbing mother, not any of those pathetic losers who created website/forums/Yahoo Groups sites about you, not David Bowie, not Rocky Balboa, not Ralph Macchio, not Arthur Fonzarelli, not the Corleones, not the Sopranos, not Mario, not Luigi, not even King Bowser and the rest of the Goombahs can save your olive-oil ass so fuhgeddaboudit! Oh yeah, and certainly not Sandy Linter can save your junkie ass because I killed that flaky bitch!”
“WHAT! NOOOOOOOOO!!! Ya killed my reason fa livin!” By now she was literally in tears and had curled up in a foetus position.
“Is that so? Then you should have no problems when I do this to you:”
So I grabbed that lesbo-slut and slammed her in the wall twice, then I dragged her to the washroom and slammed her head in the toilet.
“Why are you resisting? You’ve tasted piss many times.”
I grabbed her by her hair and threw her down to the floor. Then I stomped the shit out of that junkie dyke but I made sure that I didn’t step on her throat, I was afraid that a hairball might come out and hit me. She was bleeding a lot now, most of it coming from her track marks. After that I grabbed my other branding iron (this one was electrical, so it was already heated) and told her this:
“Remember when I told you the expression batti il ferro quando è caldo? Well this is what it means.” So I struck her with the branding iron and branded “DUMB DAGO DYKE” on her forehead. She was screaming in agony. Since I’m not one to miss out on an opportunity to pour salt on a deep wound I told her this:
“Gia let me tell you the mother fucking truth, Sandy never gave a damn about you. She used you just like how that mixed nut Anne Heche used that dirty dyke Ellen. You was never anything special to her, you were just there until something better (a man) came along. And that’s the real reason why you’re a Dumb Dago Dyke.”
Now it’s the time to finish her, so I pull out my other favourite weapon, the Raging Bulldagger. It’s a sharp, strong, and sturdy bull dagger with a bull's head at the bottom and decorated with sapphires on one side and black triangles on the other side. It’s made for those spoiled, pathetic, stupid, junkie dykes like Gia.
But when I was about to use it on her, I was looking at the pasture outside. It gave me a better idea. So I threw that jukie lesbo through the window on the second floor and she landed on the pasture. I came to the pasture, grabbed Gia by her hair and got on the horse. While I was riding the horse, I was also dragging that druggie along by her hair. When I found a good place I tied a rope on a tree branch and put the noose around her neck. Gia was sitting on the horse when I was doing this.
“Well Gia, that’s what you get for riding on the white horse and also for eating too much pussy you Dumb Dago Druggie Dyke! It doesn’t matter really if I kill you or not because you’re a self-destructive bitch! You might be off of drugs right now, but knowing your history it will only be a matter of time when you’ll get back on that shit. You’re spoiled, stupid, irresponsible, unappreciative, manipulative, a junkie and worse of all a dyke! Those things make a deadly combination for self-destruction.”
“So what I’m about to do should be considered a favour for you and more importantly for everyone else.”
So I hit the horse on its rear and the horse galloped away, leaving Gia hanging from the tree. She died moments later.
A few weeks later I went to visit Gia’s grave at Bucks County, Pennsylvania (near Philadelphia). I figured it was only right to pay a tribute to her, so I unzipped my pants, pulled my dick out and pissed on her grave.
“Beloved daughter…more like bratty dyke!”
The End so fuhgeddaboudit!
Story Name: A Thing of Junky: An Alternative Universe fan fiction of Gia Carangi and Sandy Linter
This is dedicated to Kathleen Carangi-Speer: This is what you get for not spending time with your children and for treating them like shit.
And to Sandy Linter: You’re a bleached-blond, bi-slut bimbo that’s leeching off of Gia’s popularity