Betty Doum
Thursday, July 21st, 2005
“Santiago misses you, Betty Doum. Santiago misses you!”
Tattooed on the naked left heel of the sleeping drunkard in the dark Montreal alley, these words greeted Betty Doum with cryptic relevance. Ever since fleeing the capital of Chile for a more northern climate those long years ago, she never dreamed they’d track her down. Not here. Not now! She thought she’d thrown them off her trail when she worked as a special agent for the Suicide Girls under the codename of Doumaz, but it seemed someone on the inside had been following her all along. Or maybe they’d just gotten lucky — who could say? In any case, they were on to her now, and she’d have to think fast.
Betty Doum liked to think fast. She was good at it, much to the chagrin of those dullards she’d left choking in her wake, their deaths not swift or painless as she’d twisted her trademark stiletto knife into their guts with the precision of a surgeon. An unwelcome visitor was always charged the same price: excruciating torment before coughing up their lives on a pavement drenched in their own blood. She thought it was as clear a message as she could leave to those who might try and follow her here, but obviously it wasn’t clear enough.
She’d been shacked up with tattoo artist Nicking while taking contracts with City Kittie and Punk Pussy (a couple of global feline relocation outfits, it would seem), keeping a low profile and filling her days with copious amounts of punk rock and pornography. But now that some nosy so-and-so was on her trail, her hedonistic headquarters would have to take a ho-hum hiatus.
The hiatus wouldn’t last long. As it turned out, Betty Doum wasn’t being pursued by agents from her homeland, after all. The tattoo? Just a love note from Nicking. He knew she’d be taking the shortcut through the dark alley when returning home from her job at the cafe, and he wanted to surprise her. Luckily, the beans were spilled before she’d killed half the neighborhood, so a happy ending was ensured (but just barely).
Keep an eye on this space for future news of Betty Doum’s endeavors. Just be careful not to try and sneak up on her. She’s dangerous!
This site was designed for those of us who have an aesthetic appreciation of women who don’t conform to mainstream society’s ideal of beauty. A “Hotpunkgirl” is someone who flips up her middle finger at such standards and dares her own style in spite of what the popular fashion magazines tell her is “in.” If you’re hung up on compartmentalizing and your strict definition of “punk” doesn’t seem to match ours, you might want to check out The Captain’s Helm for a little explanation. Please enjoy!
