Down the Rabbit Hole - Holly Madison

made our way to the door. She must have sensed my irritation (how could she not?) but still said
nothing. Instead, as soon as our group stalled, she threw up her hands and screamed at me: “Move,
bitch! Get out tha’ way!”
I whipped my head back around and screamed right back. “Shut up!” I yelled in her face. “You
spilled hot wax on me, don’t say anything, and then call me a bitch? FUCK YOU!”
Kendra’s smiled faded and the Playmates got quiet. I never lost my cool like that, so everyone
knew I was seriously pissed.
“What?” she said, her eyes like saucers and looking from side to side at the other girls, grasping
for some kind of support. “It’s a song.”
It hurt enough to have to be constantly humiliated by Hef, but now I had to take it from a 19-yearold
bimbo who I had been nothing but welcoming to? I was losing my patience. When we finally
made our way to the door, I turned to Hef.
“She’s totally inconsiderate,” I grumbled. “How could she not even say she was sorry?”
I took my seat in the back of the limo, and much to my surprise, Hef finally opened his mouth.
“You know, Kendra, you really should apologize to Holly,” he said, in a sort of fatherly,
condescending tone.
That’s when the train went off the tracks.
Kendra burst into tears—a hyperventilating, sobbing mess of tears.
“You guys are my family,” she wailed, reaching for the bottle of vodka from the limo bar. “I’d
stick up for any of you guys no matter what!”
She pulled off the cap and started downing the vodka. The entire limo fell silent. In between
swigs, she cried and blurted out some mumbo jumbo through sobs that no one really understood.
One of the girls tried to calm her down, but Kendra was either too drunk or too crazy to control
herself. Hef, Bridget, and I fell silent before telling her that we would be there for her, too. The
whole display was shocking and kind of sad.
It simply wasn’t normal. It seemed as if Kendra, finally finding herself on Hef’s bad side, broke
down and retreated into a drunken fit. Like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum, she guzzled down the
vodka in hopes that Hef would feel that urge to rescue her or care for her. It was both manipulative
and incredibly sad. From that night forward, I was always a bit more cautious with Kendra. A woman
who allows herself to enter into a situation like the one we were in must struggle with personal
demons—I know I did. Kendra was harmless, sort of like an annoying kid sister. Our relationship
would have its ups and downs over the next few years, but I learned to pick my battles and appreciate
that she was just as damaged as the rest of us. She just had a different way of showing it.
There wouldn’t be time to focus on such things moving forward. Our lives were about to change
and the three of us would be further united on a brand-new project—like it or not.