Candy Factory

Some insults can’t be brushed off so easily. They called her a courtesan. As a woman of meticulous standards, socialite Jessica Baxter-Beaton is obligated to protest, not only because the word is offensive, but because it was cast as a poorly disguised euphemism for whore. A denial would no doubt be interpreted as an admission of guilt, so she must defend her reputation with vigour, be it through a dark-alley incision applied to a deserving gut, or by way of more odious means: litigation. One way or another, they will pay. In the meantime, with her status in high society in the crosshairs, she must give some thought to the odious prospect of having to get a job.