I’ve been her cheerleader throughout, providing chump drubbings and 2x4s as necessary. (Apparently, the chump gene is hereditary. My cousin had a pretty bad congenital case of chumpiness, like yours truly.)
Anywho, she’s finally in the home stretch. She filed at last.
Guess who’s sniffing around her door all sad and furious?
That’s right — Mr. Disordered Cheaterpants with his Hail Mary plays for kibbles.
Oh shit, she really went and got a lawyer. Oh shit, he’s losing his chumpy meal ticket. Oh shit, he needs to reassert control.
If you’re a Mr. (or Mrs.) Disordered Cheaterpants, how are you going to reassert control over your chump? A show of hands, class! You’ve lived this. Tell me. What comes next?
That’s right! The MINDFUCK.
Oh sure, there’s been mindfucking all along, but there’s no mindfucking like the mindfucking that comes when you finally lawyer up and say Enough of This SHIT. I’m DONE.
Disordered Cheaterpants hate that. And if you’ve think you’ve seen manipulation before, by God, they really bring their A game when they feel the kibbles are slipping away. They amp up the drama, they amp up the chaos, they try super hard to get you invested in their insanity. And they will pull out every stop.
But really chumps, as I’ve said here before, and I was saying to my cousin again this afternoon — the mindfuck only has three channels.
Your Cheaterpants will cycle through each one in pretty quick succession trying to get you back on the leash. If you know to look for it, it really becomes quite transparent.
OMG, a sad sausage sighting! Ooh, he went in for How Can You Do This To Me — you’re a terrible mother/father/Christian/Catholic/Methodist/employee/lay/Rotarian/baker of cupcakes. (FLIP!) AND HE’S NOT GOING TO STAND FOR IT! Be afraid! Be very afraid! He’s going to get a lawyer and take you for EVERYTHING! The children! Your pension! Your collection of Franklin Mint Norman Rockwell plates! Yes, even the CHRISTMAS ornaments! (FLIP!) He doesn’t understand your hostility. Can’t we be friends? Remember when I gave you that christmas ornament with the kids? Ah, good times. This bitter, money-obsessed punishing person you are now, gosh, it’s not your best self. Give him a hug. Just for old times sake. Friends, right? (FLIP!) No? You won’t hug him? Don’t you know how VERY DIFFICULT this is for him right now? (FLIP!) You are going to REGRET THIS.
See? Three channels. Charm, rage, and self-pity. This is how you control a chump. Find their buttons and work ’em.
He texted my cousin: “Why can’t we just get this divorce holding hands, instead of using fists?”
Oh I don’t know, Mr. Disordered Cheaterpants. Because you bankrupted her? Spent her inheritance? Hooked up with strangers on Craiglist?
Divorce is so ugly! Why can’t she be a pal about it? Because you’re a sick, predatory fuck, that’s why.
Cheaters are so damn predictable. They’re always so, so sorry until someone lawyers up and then, poof! All their sorry evaporates. Can’t have chumps getting all uppity. Need to nip this uprising in the bud! Rage. Charm. Self-pity.
If you can’t intimidate your chump, seduce your chump. If you can’t seduce your chump, get them to feel very, very sorry for you and imply this is All Their Fault. If you can’t get your chump to feel sorry for you, intimidate your chump. Repeat.
It’s a sad day for Disordered Cheaterpants when Mindfuck TV goes on the fritz.
(FLIP!) No contact. Turn the channel off.
This column ran previously and I’m thrilled to report that my cousin is deliriously happy in her new life — new job, new man, new attitude. Cheaterpants continues to be an embarrassing loser who rarely speaks to his children.