My first husband was a dirtbag, and a cheat. My second husband was fun. I figured by then, that I deserved a toy, all for myself, and that's what I got. Still wish I hadn't broken my toy. My third husband was good with numbers... and his hands. We’re still friends, kind of. We're civil. I'm looking for my fourth, you know, on the prowl. I don't know when I'll meet him, or where I'll meet him, but he's out there. For now, I'll get my jollies off on bringing pain this way... or maybe this way. And in the end, the crowd will love me for my [bad word]  I'll make them yearn for more and more of my pain. I'll be [bad word] and enjoy myself. When the thrill wears off, I'll leave and find a new toy. Until then, not too different than [bad word] to think of it. Maybe the coliseum is my fourth husband, in a way