It’s a long and tangled story that ends with the twisted visage that you see before you.
Penis Woman aka Mona Danza is the victim of the nefarious plotting of her ex-husband, Beverly Hills plastic surgeon, Phillip Seymour Hoffman Jr.
The two Floridians began their short-lived relationship at the continentally-famous Sandals of Coco Beach FL. The high class resort had been, for the tenth year in a row, hosting the Hot Rods Automotive Expo.
It was there that Dr. Phillip Seymour Hoffman Jr. met the curvy and buxom Mona at the Dodge Viper 2.0 booth where she was modeling off the new leather-gold hybrid composite nob covers for the hot rod’s shifting-column.
Love struck the good doctor shortly after his having imbibed sixteen Cabo Wabo Blue Thunders and two mini-Mudslides. It was “at first site” once his googley-eyes stabilized on the checker bikini’d Mona.
“She was looking really hot”
“He was sorta cute, in a rich sorta way” -seemingly said Mona (our journalists had a hard time understanding Mona’s speech through the penis drapery that bedecked her mouth)
After purchasing the nob covers, the wasted doctor solicited Mona’s after hours modeling services, and so marked the beginning of a relationship marred by torrid sex, lies, silent dinners, vicious belittling, and heavily incurred debt, and ultimately, penises.
Approximately twenty-nine hundred hours of marriage later, Mona filed for divorce on grounds of boredom.
She won the suit in a monumental Floridian ruling, and walked off with all Hoffman Jr’s assets. An apparent victory that would bring about the tragedy known as “The Tragedy of Penis Woman”.
With money to burn, Mona soon became addicted to cocaine, again. Snorting bags and bags a day, and bags and bags a night. Snorting it in a booth, snorting it on a roof. It wasn’t long before her pretty face was hollowed out, leaving no trace of epidermis, but only a fragile and exposed endo-skeletal hull.
Having no ability to effectively sniff cocaine (the airy powder, finding no purchase on flesh, coulnd not entere Mona’s blood stream, but would instead be expelled with evfery Sisyphean sniff into the atmosphere of Mona’s Rancho Del Naranja condominium), Mona sought the help of her once husband the talented Dr. PSH Jr.
During his estrangement from Mona, Dr. PSH Jr. found himself nearly destitute, and out of self preservation, forced himself to supplement his lost assets by continuing as Cheif Resident of Surgery Plastique at his medical center, and by spending his nights under lamplight, sucking his own silicon-enhanced dick in front of penny-tossing gawkers.
In this horrible state of existence, Dr. PSH Jr. immediately realized the opportunity that Mona’s patronage supplied.
“I knew it was an opportunity”
And opportunity that would both provide him with a bolstered income, effectively allowing him to take a few weeks of from his nightly-self sucking, and with a means to achieve a much greater and needed end – revenge on his bitch ex-wife.
It is not exactly understood what dark arts Dr. PSH Jr. used to accomplish a full maxo-facial penile graft, but, hundreds of top collegiate scholars are beginning to speculate that the coinciding dismemberment of local graveyard corpses might be more than just coincidental.
As in most Tales O’ Revenge, consequences usually come back to haunt the avenger. Not only has Mona won her second monumental Floridian Courts judgment, but she’s also cornered the market on self-suck shows, leaving Dr.PSH Jr once again looking for jobs to supplement his income.