“Why did Napoleon march his troops so hard for Moscow?” she asked, looming over me.“I don't fricking know!” I shouted in her face. “Who care... what some dumb midget did five hundred fricking years ago! Just shut the hell up, bitch!”The color vanished from her face. An uncomfortable silence descended on the room.It hit me right then. I groaned, leaning over. I pressed my face into my hands. Why did I just do that? I had never called a teacher a bitch or any other name. I swallowed as I felt the. As he shopped, his long brunette wig was beginning to irritate himbecause every time he bent over, which was difficult due to his waistclinch, he had to swish his hair back out of his mouth. Everything hetouched felt odd because of the long, sharp nails glued on. His heelsforced him to take careful, tiny steps. His bosom and rear shapers madeeverything seem so bouncy and even a little stirring. Nevertheless, themost uncomfortable thing for Charlie was his privates which wererestricted within. More

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