Rosie and Elizabeth
by Fan of Fit



Most people know that the on air chemistry between "the view" co hosts
Elizabeth Hasselbeck and Rosie O'donnell was strained towards the end of
Rosie's time on the show. The loud talkin', large lesbian from new york had
become increasingly un-manageable. The producers knew something of it when
they signed her, and to their credit, Rosie's lip increased audience size.
However Rosie went from being a manageable liberal to an out of control
independent. Her constant on-air ranting about President Bush and repeated
assertions that globalist banking interests were behind the Sept 11th attacks
started to worry shareholders. Would the FCC fine the network, or even worse,
suspend their broadcast license? The View was a "network" program, and it had
to maintain an air of deference to the powers that be. The question became how
to get rid of Rosie, and that's where Elizabeth came in.

The tall, athletic blonde with the Italian bone structure, dremboat husband,
and cheery if not naà¯ve sensibility, was a perfect foil to Rosie. Producer
Sal Solomon called Elizabeth in for an interview one afternoon. The shady,
smoke filmed room, was canvassed by blades of light shot through half drawn
blinds. The large cherry desk and mahogany floors and paneled walls had a
1920's feel of gambling and racketerring. Sal was an old timer, a trusted
producer who had earned his reputation and helped "mainstream" mainstream
culture. He was a blunt man with an eastern accent, swarthy, with dense gray
hair.

"Elizabeth, sit down. I want you to tell me about Rosie; I'm concerned about
her health."

"Well sir, I don't know, but I just have respect for her, for all that she's
done, and being up front about being a lesbian and all, and you know its
really hard on lesbians in today's world? You know?"

Sal puffed on his cigar, blew smoke air above his desk and away from Elizabeth
and then nodded. 'This is going to be easy' he thought to himself.

"Elizabeth, I think the problem Rosie is having is one of isolation; I think
you are right. She's kind of alone in life. She's an aggressive personality
too, and I mean that in a good way; she likes a healthy argument. I worry that
among the current hosts, there's no one who can hold her own, so to speak,
with Rosie. At least that's what Rosie thinks, and I don't think that's good
for the show or for her. Would you agree?"

"Oh yes sir; I can so totally see that." the blonde bombshell said with
welcome affirmation. "But I wonder who can stand up to her? She's really
imposing, you know?" Elizabeth blushed, realizing her words might have been
taken differently than they were intended.

"Well I think any one of you could, but you're not. That's the point." He had
understood her. "Now listen carefully, I don't want this to become a gang-up
situation or 3 on 1, but I need you to take the lead in challenging her on the
show." Sal noticed Elizabeth adjust herself and avoid his eye contact. "Now
listen Elizabeth, you can do this and I need you to do this to save The View.
I hired you precisely because I needed an optimistic, sweet-hearted, and
confident young woman on the show. You're only 29. Rosie's 45; the others are
past 60."

Elizabeth looked up at him this time with more understanding, and sensing he
had her, he made the final sale.

"Nobody is going to monitor every word you say for accuracy, but you're an
intelligent woman; when you hear something that sounds so offensive it must be
wrong, speak up. Your's is a voice that must be heard!...Let me tell you a
secret, Rosie's success and the show's success is dependent on you playing her
foil. That's how all good television drama, news, and even comedy works. We
the producers fix it so you have two competing sides, not three or four, just
two. We keep it real simple, you see, so that everyone at home can follow and
the suspense builds. Its like Yankees/Red Sox, Democrats and Republicans. The
people need to think its real or they won't play along. So the next time it
comes up on the show ... I'm counting on you. Can you help me?"

Elizabeth nodded with self-assurance. She understood him. "Yes sir," she said
slowly. "I'll do my best and you will not be disappointed."

The first such occasion happened when fat mouthed Rosie let loose a rant on
Iraq. She foul-mouthed the President. However this time brave Elizabeth stood
up to her, took up the case of the President, and defended the brave men and
women fighting overseas. It was actually a good repartee, and in the end the
audience applauded. Initially Rosie did not mind, but eventually it became
personal. On later occasions Rosie would mock Elizabeth, calling her a little
beauty queen out of touch with reality. Elizabeth did her best to defend
herself, and she never directly attacked Rosie the way Rosie did to her.

It was great television. Both hosts had their fans. Many of Rosie's fans were
just pissed off middle aged women who married the wrong guy, had ugly kids,
and never enough money to go to Europe, but she also attracted a whole legion
of new fans. These were newsie's, hard core political activists, both men and
women who championed their causes in public and who challenged mainstream
media to air sympathetic voices. They always were there to support their flag
bearers, and the madam of mad had them all tuning in day after day, anxious to
hear what bombshell she would drop next. Elizabeth's fans tended to be older,
more conservative. They might have been military mom's. They were the kind of
people who had faith in their leaders and respect for the office, even if they
did not always agree with or even understand major issues.

Rosie grew increasingly hostile toward the nubile Elizabeth. It became clear
to her that Elizabeth would continue challenging her. Even though Rosie
thought Elizabeth was a blathering idiot, Rosie had to admit Elizabeth came
off well. That point became obvious after they did a show seated next to each
other, an experiment, for previously the two had been at opposite ends of the
table. Rosie always knew Elizabeth was a pretty young girl, but she began to
see her differently. The ex-"survivor" and former college softball player was
no little girl. Her short sleeved shirt was low cut, exposing toned, lean,
bronze arms. Her chest, shoulders, and back were somewhat broad, and she had
deep thick collarbones, the kind you wanted to hold onto and steer with. She
had a long and powerful neck, a big contrast to the jelly rolls that
encumbered Rosie's visage and seemed to take on a life of their own when the
actress was caught up in a coughing fit, (increasingly frequent). Once during
a commercial break Elizabeth leaned back in her chair and laced her hands
behind her head. Rosie caught just a glimpse of Elizabeth's bicps, toned and
peaked, and her sharp elbow. Elizabeth did not normally have exposed veins,
but in that position they were visible along her forearms.

Rosie decided that she could no longer continue to fight Elizabeth all the
time, at least not fairly. Recently the producers had declined her request for
a full length show devoted to interviewing scientists and other "experts"
associated with the group "9/11 truth." Using Elizabeth's argument, the
producers told Rosie that the science and math involved would turn off
viewers, and there would be no one to counter the conspiracy viewpoint. Rosie
asked them to bring on a mainstream scientist, but the producers countered
that the audience was not equipped to understand the arguments, and that with
such a sensitive topic, the network risked alienating corporate sponsorship
and even the FCC. So Rosie was forced to tone down her antics. It was not
Elizabeth's idea completely, yet Rosie took it that way and began to plant a
more sinister off-screen attack.

Elizabeth and her hot, jacked, big balled, footballer husband Matt had bought
a shore house in Jersey, complete with a pool, Jacuzzi, and guest quarters.
Matt had set up a patio gym so that he could workout and hear the waves.
During the spring he had to go south to training camp, and Elizabeth got to
use the place all to herself. Often she had guests but sometimes not. Rosie
reasoned that was the time to get her. Not kill her or even hurt badly, just
shake her up a bit and find out what was going on. On the shore springtime was
still cool, and so a lot of tourists avoided it. It would not be crowded; it
was the perfect chance for Rosie.

Dressed in all black, wearing big dark sunglasses, and a hoodie, Rosie made
her way to the shore via NJ Transit. The long, lumbering ride was bumpy, and
the cars smelled, but Rosie was focused on what she would do. Would she simply
confront Elizabeth verbally? It seemed like the safe thing to do, but
Elizabeth was tough and might not answer her, and Rosie was desperate. Would
she surprise her? Then she could get an answer, also it would mean Rosie could
slap her around some, especially if she got Elizabeth pinned to the ground.

Elizabeth had returned from a run on the sandy shore. She was making use of
Matt's gym, lifting barbells, doing hanging leg raises to work her abs. She
even decided to make use of the squat rack, to boost her already firm butt.
Rosie trudged her way up the sand dunes on the beach side, avoiding the road
out front. She caught a view of Elizabeth hoisting the bar back onto the rack.

Rosie thought "Great ... she'll be tired."

Elizabeth then took off her top and sweatpants and was covered only by a
bikini. Sweat glistened off her high and generous breasts and beaded into her
top to silhouette her nipples. Her long taut legs and calves were beautiful,
and her butt, jacked from the squats, was round and firm. Elizabeth made her
way over to the Jacuzzi, an 8 seater with a 4 foot depth. She turned on the
jets which made a loud humming noise, and then slowly lowered herself into the
water, enjoying pride in her body and relief from the massaging jets.

Rosie had seen enough. The site of the beautiful Elizabeth enraged her. This
was her opportunity, and Elizabeth would never expect it. She quietly entered
the gym area which was behind Elizabeth and scanned for anything that might be
used as a weapon or tool. Laying her puffy eyes on a short piece of black
rope, she made her way over. The rope was thick, and about 18 inches in
length; it had a plastic ball about the size of a golf ball attached to each
end, and Rosie guessed it was something you attached to a weight machine. She
would make her way behind Elizabeth, who was daydreaming, and use it as a
strangling device. With most of her gorgeous body in the pool, and only her
head and neck exposed, Rosie could sit behind her, and use both her arm and
leg strength to put Elizabeth in a very uncomfortable position.

She approached slowly, sat down behind the blonde bomb, took both hands to the
ends of the rope, and then she breathed deeply ...

Elizabeth was dreaming about her strapping husband Matt. He had such a
muscular body, and formidable leg and stomach muscles. All of that muscle and
meat aided his testoterone production. He had large, hanging balls, and a
thick long penis. It took a hot athlete like Elizabeth to handle Matt's penis
and aggressive style. He likes to go for a long time and was glad his wife had
the stamina and drive to go the distance with him. Every night he would punish
his wife, and she would ache and scream and ask for more ... "oh you fuck me
so hard!" The deep tissue massage from the jets was simulating the kind of sex
she could imagine having with Matt when he returned from practice. And just as
she was about to climax ...

"Agh." Cut short by the rope.

Rosie pulled hard and Elizabeth tried to breathe but could not. She raised her
arms to pull away the rope but there was too much weight on the other side.
She was only conscious of her own fleeting life force and could not hear the
yelling in her ear, the demand for names and answers fast. Her firm belly and
butt tensed up to fight the pull, but to no avail, and just as she thought she
was not going to make it, deep inside her survival instinct took over, and she
was able to get both her arms above her head and behind the rope on opposite
sides of her head and to then bring them down to push the rope away from her
damaged neck. Rosie tried to pull back but did not have the leverage and was
pulled sideways into the pool, clothed and all. Her still faceless attacker
struggled to get right side up from the water while Elizabeth took deep
breathes. The big hideous Rosie then emerged from the jets and bubbles and
lunged at Elizabeth's neck again. Elizabeth stood up and the two fell out of
the pool. Pinned underneath this human whale, and slowly reckoning the life
and death urgency of the situation to the unbelievable fact that her colleague
was trying to kill her, the blonde wrapped her strong hands around Rosie's
wrists and began to remove her clutches. She then sent her right knee flying
into Rosie's gut, launching Rosie over her to land like a bag of dough.

The beautiful babe then reversed roles and hopped on top of Rosie, pinning
down her hands.

"What is the matter with you!!!" she screamed in tears. Rosie tried to fight
back but Elizabeth started bouncing her hard ass on Rosie's soft gut. She also
had her powerful and sexed inner thighs exerting maximal pressure to Rosie's
ribcage. It was totally involuntary, Elizabeth definitely did not know mixed
martial arts, but she there was no way she was letting the bitch's hands go
free. The squeezing and bouncing quicly tired Rosie, who was coughing.
Weakened and out of shape she could not resist. Rosie tried to move her legs
and buck Elizabeth, the way Elizabeth had done to her, but the blonde's
strength made it impossible. Elizabeth dug her knees in hard and was sure she
felt a rib crack underneath the soft flesh of Rosie. Rosie cried in pain and
then Elizabeth dug her elbows into the arm fat on Rosie's upper biceps. Rosie
was pinned with Elizabeth over her face to face and Elizabeth started choking
her. Elizabeth's long hard fingers wrapped around Rosie's prodigious neck and
her thumbs sank into soft flesh and pushed down hard. Elizabeth kept
squeezing.

Her whole body was tensile strength. Though still breathing heavy, Elizabeth's
firm core expanded and contracted just as firm muscle tightens and then
relaxes, with only an inch of movement. What a contrast to the fat Rosie's
whose strained wheezing caused all of her diaphram to violently shake. Even if
Rosie could have freed her hands, she could not have reached Elizabeth's neck
at this angle, and its doubtful her soft hands could have made much of an
impact on Elizabeth's beautiful obliques and abs.

In total control of herself and nearly killing Rosie, Elizabeth looked at her
and said slowly ... "Leave my property immediately. Don't say a word of this
to anybody, and next week you are resigning from the show. Is that clear? I'm
the strong one, not you. You weak lesbian cow."

Youth and sexiness had won the battle vs. foul mouthed and fat. Just as it
ALWAYS should. The hot, strapping blonde, with the firm breasts, toned arms,
high taut butt, and movie star good looks had defeated the overworked, tired,
fat, and lazy cow. The cheerleader blonde who fucks the football player with
big balls had beat the shit out of the fat conspiracy bitch that dates other
crazy dikes. Let that be a lesson to all who would challenge a hottie who you
are bigger than. If you are ugly and fat live with it. Don't mess with someone
that's beautiful and hot. Their outer beauty is not all they have. Its called
E-V-O-L-U-T-I-O-N. They have generations of good strong genes, and they will
beat your fat assed, asymetrical, sick and weak body to a pulp. That's why
they are good looking and date guys with big balls.