#5.1 Hatred




“Comedy comes from conflict, from hatred”Warren Mitchell

Well if that’s the case then we’re all in for a bloody good laugh because  I HATE PORTIA!
It’s like being forced to live with one of the money gorged, fashion binging, slut-trolls from ‘My Sweet 16’ 

Sometimes i’m up all night hating her because I didn’t hate her enough during the day.
Why else do you think Republicans and Margaret Thatcher live so long?

It’s because whenever their gaunt, fearful faces are sucking on the last few drops from life’s teet, they hear of some new Government scheme to help the poor and the hatred-engine inside them roars to life and death is put off for another day.

…like me, the hatred sustains them…feeds them.

I suppose most of you rational, free-loving types, see Portia as a colorful, cartoon dog who you can watch X-Factor with while laughing at the tone-deaf and masterbating to Simon Cowell.

But Creationist-Science tells me that Portia is the offspring of skull-collecting Aliens and dogs edited using the Devils own Photoshop tools.


Pelly was out spying on Pete and Phyllis so Tortimer took over duties at the Town Hall.

When I logged an official complaint about Portia’s clothing, he said he rather liked her clothes and then he leaned in close, his stale old man breath clogging up the back of my throat, and whispered in a raspy voice – ‘These aren’t regular lenses i’m wearing you know, hor-hor-hor’ 

I pray for Winter when Portia will have to cover up her hairy dog chest, i’ve seen enough furry Starfox porn to last a lifetime, thank you! (hush, don’t tell God)   The low light levels will also make it harder to make out the features on her chemically maintained face! If only Portia had grown up in a strict, Christian household like me, she’d have the proper respect for her body.

… my Mom used to do up all the buttons on my blouse, then she’d staple the top one to my neck and send me off to Kindergarten with my Bibleman lunchbox.

                         What time is it! … it’s God-fearin’ ti-   wait, where’s my watch?

Oh! Willie Aemes, I know your 50, but can’t you just save a fellow-believer in need one last time, and remove Portia’s head with your lightsaber.

*swoon*


Unable to get Tortimer’s foul, deviant fantasies about Portia out of my head, I scaled the Town Gate and threatened to leap to my death.  Nobody came, nobody even raised the alarm … I really have to stop climbing up here every day.

Mad at myself for thinking Portia was worth committing suicide over, I bought a handful of nudey magazines from Nookways and sat partially naked in the basement turning the pages going, ‘Ohh that’s so ungodly’  before covering up all the naughty bits with my roll of ‘God is Watching You’ stickers.


Whenever I start to feel my hatred levels dipping, I swing by Portia’s and zone out while she drones on and on about herself.  Today, this proved especially difficult.

Her cleavage made vomit rush up against my teeth, so I tried to look at her feet but her dress was so high that I was afraid i’d catch a glimpse of ‘Uncanny Valley’ (who knows what plastic surgery she’s had!) but I couldn’t look at her face because I’d scream, so I just gripped my Crucifix really tightly, shut my eyes and fantasized about Bibleman.

…but then she practically gave me license to spread gossip about her.  Praise the Lord!


Within a week, the ‘Portia Rumour Mill’ was in full production!  Letters, posters, gossip, you name it, if there was a means of distributing rumours, I wanted to know about it.  Here are some of the things people now believe:

Portia has Syphilis
Portia has the cure for Syphilis but won’t use it because she’s afraid it’ll make her fat
Tortimer is Portia’s brother and husband, he gave her the syphilis
Portia empties her bladder in the town fountain
Everyone drinks from the town fountain.
Everyone has Syphilis.


It’s actually been a good way to preach ‘The Word of God’ without incurring the wrath of the ‘Cult of Phineas’ (see: here)

The letter above was particularly hurtful to Blathers who banned Portia from the Museum and covered her roof in owl droppings.

…and when I discovered the INTERNET, oh-boy, now I can spread rumours about Portia all over the world I thought.  Something called ‘YouTube’ seems surprisingly popular considering it sounds like an illegal tool for conducting gruesome home abortions.

…alas, the great Firewall of Nook Corp thwarted my evil plans.  What am I paying this 50,000 bells a month subscription service for anyway?


The rumour that i’m most proud of isn’t technically a rumour…

There really was a hostel with a similar number in the next town over, but when they closed down people figured they’d just moved to ‘Hamster Town’ instead and suddenly Portia was swamped with calls from excited travelers wanting to know how much she charged and what for.


I tried to book a room a few times (23) but Portia sounded hysterical so I stopped calling.

Due to Nook Corps reverse charges policy, Portia had to pay for all inbound as well as outbound calls.  Soon she couldn’t afford anymore slutty dresses and her face began to sag and slide because of all the cheap makeup she was buying.

Nook even started billing her for Business Charges in-spite of Portia’s protestations:

Portia:  But I don’t even run a Hostel/Brothel”
Nook:  “The Notice Board says you do”
Portia:  “The advert on the board says everything is free, i’m not making any profits”
Nook:  “What about the sex, that’s in exchange for bells isn’t it?
Portia“I am not having sex with anyone!”
Nook:  “but, you’re the only girl working at the brothel are you not??”
Portia:  “Working! This is my House…NO BROTHEL, NO BROTHEL, NO BROTHEL, NO BROT–
Nook:  “300, 000 bells by the end of the month or i’m shutting this place down”


When Portia proposed we settle our differences like adults I suggested that perhaps I should call my lawyer, go Sean Connery on her face for being hysterical or do as the catwalk models do and try to ‘outsick’ each other in the lavatory at Cannes.

Frankly I don’t understand what I’ve done wrong, it was she who said ‘Gossip is the price you pay for being fabulous’  


Portia’s threats grow ever more laughable, she’s like a small child in the passenger seat threatening to attack you with the contents of her ‘Crayola Art Case’ when you’re speeding through traffic and there’s no airbag on their side.

I took some lice eggs that i’ve been incubating in my hair, put them in the envelope with the invitation to her birthday party and pushed it through her letterbox.  She’s an idiot if she thinks she’s going to ‘get rid’ of me that easily.


It’s just as well, Portia’s birthday party was deader than the first meeting of the Mel Gibson appreciation society at Tel-Aviv University.

The townsfolk are convinced that some of the rumours must be true, particularly the drunken message Portia left on everyone’s answering machine

“…Feudal – Feudalism!! I queen Portia, wi-will rule over all you, you barely-sentient piles of jabbering offal…kneel before my diamonds!”

Puddles is Portia’s last remaining friend, which is worse than not having any friends at all.


Portia’s 30 days are up,  Nook called in the removal people (me) and within the hour, Portia’s house was just like her soul … EMPTY!  The best part was, she unwittingly said so herself!

Everyone except Pelly is disgusted by Portia’s charitable donation to the ‘Boondoxians’
Nook said it was an affront to the God of Capitalism but when we asked who, he simply pointed at himself and smiled … a piece of Nook Burger was stuck in-between one of his gold teeth, he knew, he kept it there because it tasted like Success!


After I returned from my holiday to ‘Azeroth’ I was thrilled to find that Portia still had to wash herself by digging a hole in the ground and pouring water in, Nook won’t let her anywhere near the sea or the fountain in-case she poisons us with her Syphilis again.

Before I left, her eyes burned fire-red and her voice burned with a menace that was unbecoming of her… I didn’t pay it any attention and went on home to screech along to ‘ Songs of Praise’

I opened the door to find my lab littered with barrels leaking poisonous gasses into the air.  The noxious fumes soon filled the room and I collapsed on to the floor.

Desperate for air, I grabbed my throat as a cockroach crawled over my face …. it was the last thing I saw before I fell unconsciousness.

–   To    Be    Continued   –
———————-     ———————   ————————–


Is this the end for Widders!
Will Portia’s dream of Feudalism come true!
Is there anything worse than having Puddles for a friend!

All these answers and more in the next episode of ‘Animal Crossing Nightmares’

~* The End *~

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