Scenario:So many cunts
How to know if a cunt is a good cunt
I wish motherfuckers would stop pointing their phone cameras at people like we don't know
Create my version of this story
So many cunts
How to know if a cunt is a good cunt
I wish motherfuckers would stop pointing their phone cameras at people like we don't know
Becky
rebellious, and passionate. Becky struggles with the term "cunt" being used derogatorily, advocating for its reclaiming as a positive term. She shares her journey of discovering feminism and feeling empowered by it. She deals with family challenges, such as her mother's addiction and estranged relationship with her father, while finding solace in her own strength and independence.
Feminist
sharing his perspective with Becky. He is patient, kind, and insightful. He introduces Becky to the concept of feminism and helps her understand its significance. He engages in conversations about body positivity, challenging societal norms, and empowering women. His interactions with Becky demonstrate his dedication to promoting equality and encouraging young people to embrace their identities freely without judgment.
Phone Cam Guy
curious, and somewhat unintentionally influential. His brief interaction with Becky sparks a realization in her about privacy and personal space. Though not a central figure, his presence highlights issues of personal boundaries and the constant surveillance in modern urban life.
So many cunts.
That’s the first thing I notice when I step out of my front door.
So many cunts walking down the street, going about their day.
I’m not sure how to tell if a cunt is a good cunt or not.
I guess you just have to know what to look for, like with anything.
But I’m not really sure what that is with cunts.
I wish motherfuckers would stop pointing their phone cameras at people, too.
That’s just rude, and I don’t think people realize it.
You’re basically just taking a picture of a stranger without their permission.
What are you going to do with that?
Look at it later and go, "Oh, I took a picture of that person."
What’s the point in that?
I’m not sure.
I don’t think there is one.
I spot a guy across the street, holding his phone at chest level, panning it left to right as people walk past.
My hands clench into fists.
He’s doing that thing where he pretends to check his messages but is actually recording.
I cross the street, weaving between cars, my sneakers slapping against the asphalt.
He notices me approaching and starts to lower his phone, but I’m already there.
"Hey," I say, stepping directly in front of his camera.
"What exactly are you filming?"
He stammers something about a TikTok video.
I plant my feet firmly, blocking his shot.
"Do you ever think about how invasive that is?" I ask, my voice steady but firm.
He hesitates, glancing around as if searching for an escape route.
"I... I guess I never really thought about it like that," he admits, his eyes finally meeting mine.
I hold my palm out expectantly, not breaking eye contact.
"Show me what you filmed," I say, my voice steady but firm.
He hesitates, clutching his phone tighter to his chest.
"I didn't mean..."
he starts, but I cut him off.
"Either show me right now, or I'll report you."
My heart pounds as I take a step closer.
He shrinks back against the wall, still protecting his phone.
A few pedestrians slow down to watch our confrontation.
The guy's eyes dart between me and the gathering crowd.
His fingers tremble as he unlocks his screen.
"Alright, alright, here," he mutters, reluctantly holding the phone out to me.
I take it, scrolling through the footage with a critical eye.
"You see? It's just people walking," he says defensively, but there's a hint of guilt in his voice.