She
crushed your ego in front of the cheerleaders back then and now she's
going to destroy you again - unless you can prove to cruel Princess
Rhianna, the dom prom queen of your sticky wet dreams, that you're no
longer a snot-nosed, stammering little geek with a stubby pencil poking
up in your pants and a Rhianna worship shrine in your room. So what will
it be? Are you a man or still just a panty-sniffing, Rhianna-wanna-be
worship stroker? Huh, dork?
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