Survivartist threesome (2+1) (short story)

The following story is a word of fiction and bears no relation to existing people or events.

Survivartist threesome (2+1) (short story)
by drs. Efthimia Dilpizoglou
(c) 2016 all rights reserved

The Blogger breaks the frontdoor with a single kick and enters the gallery. None have an alarm system anymore since austerity. They’ve learned from Charles Saatchi that the best way to make money from shitty art no one has the money to buy any more is to let it get stolen and cash in on the insurance.

The Blogger walks around the gallery exploring the art and reading the descriptions:

sharks to left of me and sharks up above me
the apex of survival hung by the tail deflated
skinned and made into a coat
the usual feminist irony
gunfire in the heart
where 2 of you used to meet before me
I tore the skin right off my face
(and blamed the shark)
to make my face more kissable
made the animal within me castable & exhibitable
the baby owl the cats in my backyard caught and ate when I was 5 looks on
look away, it never happened, move on and move on

With the newly stolen art under her arm the Blogger heads back home. The Not-So-Genteel Catlady’s cats run up to her to greet their favourite cat-sitter. Chilling on the couch with the cats and the art she admires the reflection of her new mohawk in the mirror across the room, strategically placed there so she can look inside herself whenever she feels the urgent need to perform gynecosurgical procedures. She smokes a spliff of nederwiet and sings along to the happy song on her player:

I push the button Capital G is for deep under the surface bunker busters now there’s a lot of you inside me on my hands and knees serving my purpose perfectly