Bangalore is a ripe place for sleaze balls like Gropy. He hadn't realized this until recently when he happened to tread unauthorized on a woman's behind, which in all fairness, was minding its own business and was certainly not "asking for it", like gropy would have it. but you see, gropy gets away with it. he has mastered the art of seduction. he violates, then seduces. Incongruous with the orthodox order of seducing first and violating next.
So when an IT job came calling, Gropy was both excited and heartbroken. excited, because it meant the cash that he would need to ravage the new city, and heartbroken, because he had to leave his well established body of work behind in the little town in Orrisa.
He took to Bangalore almost immediately. He liked the weather, he liked the almost metropolitan state it was in, and he liked the women. Back in the dingy room in the perennially flooded orrisa, Gropy had seen enough of bangalore, on the ridiculously slow internet. Even though it took a good seven minutes to download one picture, Gropy would wait, a plate of white rice and fish curry in one hand, lying on his bed, hinged on the other elbow, staring bluntly into the screen that was last cleaned when his room flooded and sweat dripping from his forehead. The wait, you see, made gropy more determined.
It was like destiny. Bangalore was destined to be touched, or shall we say in light of context, groped, by Gropy.
So when the woman found her behind being caressed in a manner that it had not been in the longest time, her most immediate reaction, embarrassingly, was to relish it. But the overbearing sense of morality that is so steadfastly instilled in all women and heightened in ones who use public transport, soon caused her to abandon all favorable feelings towards the act and turn around to deliver a smattering of the choicest expletives.
but superheroes seldom come with a Plan B.
When she turned with the fury of a caged tiger let free, all set to burn another creep down to ashes, she was stunned by what she saw. A man with style, and class, clean shaved like that man in the gillete ad, smiling at her with the perfect set of teeth like that man in the close up ad, wearing a fantastic combination of a light blue shirt and jet black park avenue pants and smelling like the mist on a mountain. she was thrown aback. all she could do, was smile and turn, and smile again.
Gropy had had his first taste of blood. This was going to be the city where he would accomplish the most disgusting tasks he had so longed to do back in his village. Bangalore had raised the stakes, and Gropy was up for it.
So when an IT job came calling, Gropy was both excited and heartbroken. excited, because it meant the cash that he would need to ravage the new city, and heartbroken, because he had to leave his well established body of work behind in the little town in Orrisa.
He took to Bangalore almost immediately. He liked the weather, he liked the almost metropolitan state it was in, and he liked the women. Back in the dingy room in the perennially flooded orrisa, Gropy had seen enough of bangalore, on the ridiculously slow internet. Even though it took a good seven minutes to download one picture, Gropy would wait, a plate of white rice and fish curry in one hand, lying on his bed, hinged on the other elbow, staring bluntly into the screen that was last cleaned when his room flooded and sweat dripping from his forehead. The wait, you see, made gropy more determined.
It was like destiny. Bangalore was destined to be touched, or shall we say in light of context, groped, by Gropy.
So when the woman found her behind being caressed in a manner that it had not been in the longest time, her most immediate reaction, embarrassingly, was to relish it. But the overbearing sense of morality that is so steadfastly instilled in all women and heightened in ones who use public transport, soon caused her to abandon all favorable feelings towards the act and turn around to deliver a smattering of the choicest expletives.
but superheroes seldom come with a Plan B.
When she turned with the fury of a caged tiger let free, all set to burn another creep down to ashes, she was stunned by what she saw. A man with style, and class, clean shaved like that man in the gillete ad, smiling at her with the perfect set of teeth like that man in the close up ad, wearing a fantastic combination of a light blue shirt and jet black park avenue pants and smelling like the mist on a mountain. she was thrown aback. all she could do, was smile and turn, and smile again.
Gropy had had his first taste of blood. This was going to be the city where he would accomplish the most disgusting tasks he had so longed to do back in his village. Bangalore had raised the stakes, and Gropy was up for it.
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