WWHD?
inuxxian@gmail.com
The ninth circle of Hayley.


Piece-wise, I'm always going to be a bong girl--I'm trained at this point to
hit bliss the second I hear the bubbles--but I'll do a blunt sometimes. Which
is what I'm doing at this party, lying in someone's beanbag chair listening to
a bunch of guys play Halo and staring at this really tacky silver crucifix
David Wagner's parents have over the door to their kitchen.

David's parents are somehow BOTH ministers, and they're on TV with this like
cutesy couples-for-Christ preaching gimmick--if you need to barf I'll
wait--and every month they go on this big tour of lots of churches around the
country and sing and pray and beg for money from their creepy Jesus-freak
groupies. Which means that one weekend every month David's alone in the house,
and they always leave him enough money to not only THROW a huge fucking
alcohol-drenched druggie rager but actually pay someone to clean it up after.
So I dig David. Part of that might just be narcissism though because guess who
showed David his first bong, and snuck him into his first R movie, and
actually when they were both 13, and David's parties hadn't started yet, hung
out with him for like the entire weekend and taught him to drink with her
mom's vodka and he got ridiculously wasted, this 13-year-old
small-for-his-size boy, and puked on his parents' couch? Yeah, bow down to the
role model. Plus I think I might have been the first girl he played doctor
with. Which probably didn't go all that well for him actually because I always
got kinda rough playing doctor.

Now I know you're thinking that I don't really seem like an other-people girl,
and you're totally right; introversion is one of the side effects of malignant
sociopathy. Doesn't mean I can't party. Parties have drugs, and drugs slosh
around in my twisted brain and make me really fun. Plus I kinda like watching
drunk boys want me. When I was a freshman some senior boy tried to jump me
while I was blazed in David's parents' bedroom watching porn--it's not a party
until someone has to get stiches--but now they just want me from across the
room while their girlfriends sulk.

I'd want me, if I didn't have me. I'm wearing this 100% adorable white
button-down shirt with those little babydoll sleeves and it's coming down to
like half an inch above my Diesels (thanks for being a cash cow Mom, now moo
for the camera) and I think like a third of a cup size away from bursting, and
I've got what is probably a pretty cute smile on my face because I'm listening
to boys kill each other and one of the boys is Liam. Liam wins a lot, which
kinda makes me feel like I'm dating a football player. I'm actually pretty
into games; if I'd been at Columbine I totally would have been their
cheerleader. Blunts make me dark.

Which by the way this one's making me stare at Mindy Queen, in the kitchen,
for some reason at this fucking party even though I would have killed the
family of anyone I'd caught inviting her to it. She's standing in the corner
with her prissy little shoulders up and drinking a fucking SODA and trying to
blend in because I guess she has no friends but you know what that's because
she sucks. I've been telling her she sucks since fifth grade and I doubt I'm
the only one. Anyway like I said blunts make me dark and I am lying there
imagining just dismembering Mindy Queen. Like slowly dissecting her while
she's still alive. Like walking into the kitchen and taking a knife and
gutting her and jumping double-dutch with her small intestine.

But I can't do that at a party because nobody here is crazy like me, although
Liam's almost there, and also by the way I know for a fact is David's older
brother James, because like a year before I started dating Liam he told me he
liked gory movies and I don't know if you've met me but hi I'm Hayley, so we
dated for like a month, most of which was spent getting high and watching
YouTubes of like people getting electrocuted in Russia and giving each other
hand jobs. (I kept a 4.0 but James' grades basically jumped off a building and
he got left back the next year, but don't worry he still thinks I'm cute.) I
kinda want to get both of them and drag Mindy out behind the house somewhere
and put on a show, but I don't know where James is.

This guy, whose name I know but who is one of those kids it is just completely
impossible to care about so why bother, is standing over me and looking down
and I'm not sure but I have my hand behind my head and I think he's staring at
my armpit, which is officially the funniest fetish there is. "Hayley?"

"Say my name again."

"Mike and the guys want you in the kitchen."

"You realize gang-rape just means more stitches, right?"

"They're beer-bonging. You're invited."

"Oh, well in that case"--I put my hand in the air because why not give him a
little thrill--"take me to my chariot." Beer and blunts are a rad girl's best
friends; you fucking know that's how Rosie the Riveter rolled. Then after work
she jackhammered guys' chest cavities with her, um, rivet gun. Ignore me, I'm
high. Liam sees the irrelevant kid helping me up and kind of scowls so I blow
him a little kiss. He'll probably really enjoy the next few kills. I'm a
giver.

In the kitchen like five upperclassmen are standing around the pipe and the
funnel--very classy--and they whoop when I come in and someone says "Miss
Hayley Fucking [my last name which no you are not getting]," and I give a
little bow. "Aw, you guys waited for me. So polite." Special little smile and
wave for Mindy; told you I can be a people person. One of the guys turns to
her and I'm pretty sure he has no idea who she is besides obviously a
wallflower and says "Watch and learn," which is pretty hilarious.

Oh, here's where James is. I couldn't see him from the living room. He gets a
smile too, and also a "Hell-O", which means every other guy in this room and
frankly half the girls are now jealous of him.

"Pass the blunt," he says.

"Fuck off," and now they're probably gonna cry. I hold the blunt out to some
girl; I can't tell what team she's on. "Hold it. Hit it and I hit you." Big
smile, peep my pearlies. Back to the guys with the bong. "Now hit me."

The guy who hands it to me is kinda cute, actually. I can't tell which grade
he's in but I've never really seen him before. So if what's about to happen
were, like, a court case, and I was pleading my defense, I guess I'd go with
that I wanted to make a good first impression. I put the pipe in my mouth and
bend my head back all the way and right behind me is Mindy Queen so I'm
actually looking right into her eyes as the beer starts gushing. And it feels
so heavensauce on my cottonmouth I start to go into major bliss mode, and I
can put away beer when I feel like it so I'm chugging for a while. The whole
kitchen is cheering and whooping and it's so loud Liam's probably just
chainsawing people in there. (I dunno if they have chainsaws in Halo. I was
always an Unreal Tournament girl. The more you know!)

I take the pipe out of my mouth with like minor spillage and put my head back
up and throw my arms up in victory and yeah that's right kid get a good look
at them they're sweaty. But I still have a mouthful of beer, and everyone's
cheering, and something tells me the room is totally ready for me to walk over
to Mindy Queen, smile, and spit a mouthful of beer into her frowny-face, which
she is looking at me with because she is a preachy little uptight cunt I want
to run over with a tractor. So I do. The spit thing, I mean.

The room goes quiet for a second and then it bursts out laughing, and the
shitty Miller is like dripping down Mindy's face and onto her ruffles--YES SHE
IS ACTUALLY WEARING RUFFLES god fuck this bitch. I wait a moment and then
throw my arms up again--ooh and this is my good side, kid!--and get another
cheer and some guy behind me asks someone "Who is that?" and his friend
actually says "Hayley or the one that isn't Hayley?" and OK that made my
night.

Mindy tries to like run away to go cry or whatever but I decide I can probably
take this up a notch and I grab her by one shoulder and spin her around and
slam her really hard into a wall and step back grinning while she bounces off
all dazed. The audience is OOHing and laughing. Eat it up, boys.

She tries to leave again but I just shove her into the wall again. And listen,
I don't care how well your parents taught you that violence doesn't solve
anything and that you should just walk away with your head held high, but
after I've spat beer in your face and pushed you into a wall a couple times
you're probably going to go for me. And then I'm probably going to smash you
in the face with my fist, get my arm around your neck so you can kiss my
perfect little bicep, put you in a headlock, drag you over to the beer bong,
and introduce you to the wide world of alcoholism by sticking a tube down the
wrong throat-hole and pouring a can of beer into your lungs. Which is almost
what I do with Mindy, except it goes into her stomach. Party Hayley is PG-13
Hayley, the whole family can enjoy her.

When she starts to choke I hand the bong off to the guy I haven't seen before
and sucker-punch her stomach as a prize. "Was it tasty?"

Mindy looks at me like a little kid without lunch money. "Feeling a little
woozy yet?" I step forward and she starts backing away into the living room.
"You know it comes on real quick, right. One sip and you're FEELING THE BUZZ.
Don't puke." She stumbles on something walking backwards but for some reason
she won't just turn around, like I've got her hypnotized or something. I do
kind of have that car-crash quality. "You gonna puke, Mindy? Don't puke. Be
strong against the demon alcohol." I grab the crucifix from above the door
while we go through it--man I'm good at improv--and hold it out to her. "One
more sip and you might as well be sucking Satan's dick, Mindy."

"Stop!" The Halo guys are watching us now. Standing room only in here. The
Hayley Show was taped in front of a live studio audience. "Leave me alone!"

"Lips say no, sweetie," I say, even though I'm not really sure what I'm
supposed to be here. Christian lesbian rapist? I can drink and smoke but I
can't always mix. Oh well. I'll just be the girl who pushes Mindy Queen
backwards across a coffee table, and then squats over her and unbuttons her
prissy little jeans and tugs them off her while she wriggles and yells. Then
I'll pull up the waistband on her fucking granny-panties and get grossed out
by how kind of surprisingly bushy she is, like she doesn't know what
maintenance means, and then I'll take Our Lord Jesus On The Cross and shove
him halfway down her panties right in the middle so that Our Lord has his face
buried in Mindy's gooey hole, not that I'll CHECK or anything. Which I guess
is right at the limit of PG-13 but which I nail 100%.

When I stand up she just starts to WAIL, like some kind of animal is having
non-consensual sex with her brain, and both rooms are laughing and clapping
and I don't think the Halo guys are even playing anymore. Mindy is wriggling
around on the coffee table making these sobbing noises that sound like a
retarded cow having twins, and she falls off and starts reaching for her jeans
on the floor but some guy grabs them and throws them into the kitchen and she
just like collapses and keeps wailing. Back in the kitchen I take the blunt
back from the girl I handed it to. I think she's a sophomore. "Didn't hit,
right?"

She just shakes her head.

"Atta girl." Smoke, meet Hayley's lungs. James is looking at me and I think
Liam's occupied, so I give him a wink and cartoon-flex one arm.

"Hayley knows how to party."

"Jimmy knows how to flatter." I'm loyal, I really am, I'm just kind of a
flirt. Like I said, it's fun to watch boys want me. And they always want me
even though like I also said I'm a malignant sociopath. Yeah, definitely
malignant. I'm a fucking tumor on the world. Tell your son I said hi.

BONUS INTERACTIVE PARTY GAME WHAT WOULD HAYLEY DO?

Email Hayley at the address above with all of your questions and concerns
about how to live your life as utterly kickass as Hayley. She can't answer
every question, but she promises to take two huge fucking bong rips and answer
at least the ones that don't bore her ass off. Cross your fingers.