"Boyfriend stealers go to HELL!"

“I really fucking hate you both,” says Kitty.

She’s in the Old Quad, naked, tied to an oak tree with BOYFRIEND-STEALING BITCH written in lipstick across her sweaty body. A large pile of overripe tomatoes sits in a nearby crate. The two of you sit nearby, on a picnic blanket, eating delicious tomato sandwiches and cheering the mob of infuriated young women on as they vent their wrath.

“Serves you right, you SLUT!”

“Boyfriend stealers go to HELL!”

“Eat tomato, you DIRTY LITTLE TART!”

“Teach that BITCH a lesson, girls! Rub her FACE in it!”

“HARLOT!”

“TROLLOP!”

“SUCCUBUS!”

“WHORE! Wait, are we saying whore, or is that too harsh? Oh, the hell with it. WHORE!”

“Serves you right,” says Meg, with a shrug. “Shouldn’t have fucked my boyfriend.”

“She’s right, you know. You really shouldn’t have fucked me.”

Kitty’s search for another smart remark is cut short when an extremely squishy tomato directly impacts her mouth, spattering seeds through her hair and juice and pulp all over her face and tits. She spits out tomato and settles for “Fuck both of you.”

“No, Kitty, fucking us caused the problem. This is going to keep happening until you learn.”