

## The Code of God

## ipam

Smashwords Edition Copyright 2018 Pamela Joan Barlow Smashwords Edition, License Notes This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

A killer crime drama...

A killer is killing, without a killing clue....

Some of the best law enforcement officers, coming from the US Federal Government agencies, including the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI), the Internal Revenue Service (IRS), and Federal Drug Administration (FDA) are working on the series of nasty, mysterious and malicious murders.

Yet, the mystery cold-blooded murders keep coming and occurring within several small towns and the major metro cities within the US State of Alabama, without a killing clue.

And each local and state law enforcement authority does not possess a killing clue to solve, stop, and then save the next future kill coming from the unknown killer.

Two years ago...

Wednesday July 30th

City of Weetumpee within US State Alabama

(20 miles, south, from metro city Birmingham)

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

09:03 am

Weetumpee Hotel location

Lounge room setting

Man-made cold temperatures with artificial light bulbs

She exhaled with a puff of nervousness and stood in front of the closed door of the lounge room, reaching out and touched the door knob. The door opened. She entered into the lounge entertainment room, hearing and seeing the new team of scientists. She and the science team had been assigned to explore a cracked opening along a natural forming join that connected a set of two limestone cliffs on the Coosa River.

The rock opening became a set of broken stone by a unique and unusual earthquake which had occurred three days ago near the outer city limits of Birmingham within US State of Alabama. The city of Birmingham was located within the Heart of Dixie territory, a mass economic composite of cow pastures, crop farms, and active businesses. The local businesses companies consisted of numerous healthcare industry hospitals, coal and mineral mining companies, soft drink bottling headquarters, and a couple of banking headquarters.

She had never worked with a sitting group of brilliant scientists before but recognized the set of faces from the set of paper background folders that was supplied by her boss for the impromptu and urgent scientific expedition.

The multi colored room of peach, pink, green, and gray was a round-shape with a set of circular two-seater short sofas for the visiting guests of the Weetumpee Casino Hotel within the river city of Weetumpee within US State of Alabama.

She moved ahead and stopped, scooting into her own two-seater short sofa in front of the scientists alone with a nod and a smile at her science team. Then, she turned and winked with a grin at the man named Skippy, after a last night fun time inside her hotel suite. "Good morning! I'm the team leader and a geologist, single, no children, five feet, three inches tall, a heart shaped face, red haired pixie, brown eyes..."

"Hi." The male sat inside the extreme right side of the room near the painted wall of a river boat inside a two-seater short sofa and lifted a palm with a smile and chuckle. "I'm Jorge Vega, an archeologist, brown hair, brown eyes, five feet, two inches, copper skin, one hundred and thirty-eight pounds. Peace, Brown eyes, from me and my cubby buddy," he reached out and slapped the second male on the front of the shirt with a grin and a laugh.

"No asshole. Jettatura," the second male turned and frowned at the nose profile of Jorge, slapping a hand over the shirt. He possessed a tall body with a black colored ponytail, a black goatee, a pair of blue eyes, and a pair of ripped and faded blue jeans. He wore a tight shirt over the chest with a hand symbol of a clenched fist, showing the index and the little fingers stuck out like a set of upright horns.

She should have included a dress code within the electronic office memo invitation, watching the physical dog fighting between her team mates with a stern face.

The second male turned and smiled at her. "Torquanto Mazzi, engineer, doctoral degree..."

"Jetta turd," Jorge slapped both kneecaps with a chuckle and a smile for fun.

The second two-seater short sofa held a short male, who leaned over the arm rest with a laugh and pointed at Jorge with a wink. "He speaks Italian. I'm impressed, slick." He sat back and turned to wink at her. "I'm Amos Bains. I am a mineralogist, five feet and five inches, one hundred and twenty-one pounds, red hair, hazel eyes."

Mazzi turned and frowned at Amos. "I'm not. Jettatura is the Italian phrase for the evil eye. An evil eye is the superstition that a certain person or persons have the power by looking at you, casting a malevolent spell."

Jorge thumbed with a smile and a chuckle to his sofa mate Mazzi on the shared loveseat. "He's a warlock, too."

Mazzi exhaled with a huff of annoyance and touched the shirt, staring at her, "Wrong, slick! The symbol is claimed to counter the spell with this hand gesture."

Amos turned and frowned at the team leader. "Think, we'll get casted or something, here inside the casino."

"Just a shirt, bro," Mazzi rolled the eyeballs and then looked with a sour frown at the team leader.

The team leader cleared a throat to each face, "Ladies and gentlemen."

"Where?" Jorge slapped both kneecaps with a grin and a chuckle.

She smiled. "This is a lively group of doctors and scientists."

"Present." Jorge lifted a palm with a smile and a chuckle.

She nodded with a grin to each face. "I'm Dorothy Volta, the team leader."

Amos chuckled. "Where are the little doggie Toto and your red slippers, Dorothy-girl?"

"And the WWW," smiled Jorge.

Mazzi turned and frowned at the nose profile of Jorge. "The what, slick?"

Jorge turned and grinned to his soft mate Mazzi. "The wicked witch of the west, you know the www."

"She's coming, later." Dorothy nodded with a smile to each face. "It's her nap time at the moment," she shook her brown colored curls with a grin. "This is what happens when you cross skulls with eggs. You get eggheads. I want to thank you for accepting this important mission. You were selected quickly and swiftly for this task..."

Jorge turned and frowned at Dorothy. "You're scaring me, quickly and swiftly. Are those words used in firing squads?"

"Only if you mess up royally," Mazzi turned and winked at Dorothy.

Jorge thumbed over with a sour frown to his sofa buddy. "Can we replace him, right now?"

Dorothy shook her curls with a smile. "Not economically feasible, he's already been paid."

Jorge nodded with a grin. "So, we're the cheapest of the lot that has been picked up and dropped off here inside the river city of Weepumkata."

Amos nodded with a smile. "I actually prefer, using the gentle term, least expensive."

Jorge chuckled. "That's why you wanted my secret Swiss bank account number, right, Dorothy?"

She pointed the next scientist inside the circular sofa with Amos with a smile. "Let's finish by wrapping up the introductions for the rest of the scientists."

"Then, we can start the waltz," Mazzi smiled.

She shook her curls with a smile. "That's not on my agenda. I have to follow the rules. My boss is here."

Mazzi shook the ponytail with a sour frown. "Rules are so boring. State your name, specialty, and when you want me to call you. The current cell numbers and email addresses from some of you, I want to contact for later."

She smiled. "Strike that command from Romano! That's not part of the agenda either for today."

Mazzi grinned. "But, for later tonight, ladies, I'm Doctor..."

She shook her curls with a sour frown. "Forget that one, too! No one is nicknamed doc, doctor on the mission. We will use our first names on the college diploma."

Mazzi grinned. "Mr. PhD."

"No," she frowned.

"I prefer Mr. Congeniality," he grinned.

"Never," she frowned.

"Mr. Originality," he smirked.

"Not, here," she shook her curls.

"I want to be called Doc," he frowned.

Jorge nodded with a smile and lifted a palm into the air. "Let's vote! This is America, the land of freedom and democracy."

She smiled with a nod to each face. "Okay! Raise your hand for Torquanto Mazzi to be known to this group as Doc." Every hand rose with some fingers that displayed a set of nasty figures. She laughed with a nod to each face. "Alright, Doc! You have won their hearts for the day. Please, continue the ID process, before the lunchtime bell."

Mazzi smiled. "I'm a doctor during the day and a predator at night," he laughed with some of the scientists.

She frowned, "Children!"

"Present," Jorge chuckled.

"Let's move along!" She pointed the next scientist beside Amos.

The female possessed a tall body with a head of red colored hair, a pair of green eyes and a tone of pale colored skin, saying with a smile to Dorothy, since the chair prevented eyesight to the rest of the team mates. "My name is Sayree Rotter..."

"Babe," Mazzi leaned over and turned, winking at her nose profile for fun.

Sayree exhaled with a puff of annoyance and stared with a sour frown at Dorothy. "No."

"Goddess then?" Mazzi grinned at her nose profile.

She frowned at Dorothy, "Absolutely not."

"How about my new friend?" Mazzi smiled at her nose profile.

Dorothy shook her curls with a smile. "Doc, please stop with the sexual harassment moves! Or you are off the science team, permanently."

Mazzi turned and winked at Dorothy, "Just having a little fun, team leader."

"Later today, after I'm fully unconscious," Dorothy winked back and turned to see the female scientists. "Sayree is our theologist."

"See, that's why she's the team leader." Mazzi smiled with a nod to Dorothy.

The male possessed a tall body frame with a head of gray hair, a pair of brown eyeballs, a tone of dark tinted skin, and an elderly face, saying with a smile to Dorothy. "I'm Will Bluff, the real boss. I'm financing this expedition..."

"...to hell," chuckled Mazzi.

Bluff stood upright with a sour frown and spun around to see each face. "We will find out once we are down there inside the cracked hole. Please, continue around the room with the introductions," he pointed down to his sofa buddy and turned, sitting with a stern face to see Dorothy.

The male possessed a tall and slender body frame with a head of black colored hair, a pair of brown eyeballs, a tone of dark tinted skin, saying with a smile and a nod to Dorothy. "Admiral Skippy, Navy."

Jorge leaned over with a grin to see Skippy. "Are you really a real admiral of the US Navy?"

Skippy nodded with a smile to Dorothy. "Four starred, last week."

Mazzi leaned over with a sour frown to see the nose profile of the admiral. "Is that your real name Skippy?"

He nodded with a smile to Dorothy, "Skippy Leslie Lawson."

Mazzi turned and chuckled to Dorothy, "Gawd, your mama was very unkind, bro."

Bluff turned and frowned at the nose profile of the young scientist. "Don't use the Lord's name in vain, sir."

Mazzi leaned over and smiled at Bluff. "Good Lord Almighty, please have mercy on me, him, and you." He turned back and faced Dorothy wth a smile.

Inside the third two-seater short sofa, the male possessed a short body frame with a bald skull, a tone of pale tinted skin, and a pair of violet eyeballs, saying with a smile and a nod to Dorothy. "Harper Watson, lawyer..."

Jorge chuckled, "Boo, hiss, boo..."

Mazzi leaned over with a sour frown to see the nose profile of Harper. "Who invited you, dude?"

Bluff turned and smiled at the nose profile of Harper. "I did as boss man. And I suggest you lose the business suit and the pair of wingtips, Harper."

"Yes sir." Harper turned and nodded with a sour frown at his boss Bluff, looking down to fumble with the business jacket.

On the second row, inside the first two-seater short sofa that was straddled between the first and second loveseat on the first row, the male possessed a tall body frame with a tone of dark tinted skin, a head of brown hair, and a pair of brown eyes, saying with a smile to Dorothy, "Garnett Vega, seismologist."

Jorge could not spin around inside the semi-enclosed two-seater loveseat and shouted out with a smile, staring at Dorothy. "Was it really an earthquake in the center of cow patties without the tectonic plates, jumping around like fleas on a dog's butthole, last week?"

Garnett nodded with a smile at Dorothy. "Indeed so, the plates were located in the city of Memphis within the US State of Tennessee. However, the bizarre quake registered a three point one on the Reiter-scale, which was caused by some unknown reason."

Mazzi chuckled with a nod at Dorothy. "That's the reason for us."

Inside the fourth two-seater sofa with Garnett, the female possessed a short body frame with a head of black hair, a pair of black eyeballs, and a tone of dark tinted skin, smiling at Dorothy. "I am Lucy Nuer, a world renowned oceanographer, who has been hand plucked for the particular expedition."

Inside the fifth two-seater loveseat, the female possesses a short and slender body frame with a head of brown colored hair, a pair of green eyeballs, smiling at Dorothy. "Li Zhang, computer nerd."

"She's cool." Jorge slapped both kneecaps with a smile to Dorothy.

Mazzi turned and flicked the earlobe of Jorge with a chuckle. "She's interesting, because you're not." He turned and smiled at Dorothy. "Got me question? Can I go to the john?" He chuckled.

Dorothy exhaled with a puff of annoyance and turned with a sour frown to see Mazzi. "At break time, any more questions?"

Mazzi raised a palm with a smile to Dorothy. "Okay, got me another question? Where are the botanist and chemist, if we are going underground to hunt and to scout the effects of an earthquake by studying the flora, the stone floor, and other fun stuff inside the dark and ancient limestone cliff?"

Dorothy jabbed a finger and a smile at Mazzi, "That is an excellent observation, Doc Mazzi. I am going to let you guess what we are looking for since each one of you is a talented scientist in your particular field."

Jorge frowned. "Naw, just tell us!"

Lucy smiled. "It'll be fun. We're looking for Noah's Ark. Am I right or pretty close, Dorothy?"

Dorothy nodded with a grin. "Pretty close, but no apple pie. Another guess?"

Jorge smiled. "We're going to find Noah's Ark. I know that the outer space satellite radar and sonar echoes from planet Earth and up into the space shuttle have identified a strange figure underneath the dirt of on Mount Sinai," he leaned over with a smile and a wink to see the nose profile of Bluff. "No wonder, a billionaire is here with us. Are you going to fly us by private jet over the Atlantic Ocean, too?"

Amos shook a skull with a sour frown. "No way, dude!"

Garnett frowned. "Mount Sinai was the mountain peak where Moses received the Ten Commandments from God. I loved that Hollywood film movie by producer Cecil B. De Mille, too."

Dorothy shook her curls at the scientists and whispered for her ears only. "This is what happens when you get PhD eggheads inside one basket without the mama hen."

Sayree nodded with a smile. "Mt. Sinai is also called Horeb which is located within the mountain district of the Sinai Peninsula which is a triangle between the two north arms of the Red Sea with a peak elevation of 8,000 feet in the northeastern part of Egypt."

Jorge frowned. "Are your referencing Mt. Jabal-Katrinah? The mountain peak is higher at 8,668 feet?"

Amos nodded with a smile. "That mount peak is very close to St. Helene here inside Washington State at 8,364 feet. Which happens to be an active volcano, also? Mt. Sinai is not active."

Mazzi chuckled. "You promise, dude!"

Amos nodded with a grin. "I cross my heart and hope to visit God much later in my old age."

Li frowned with confusion. "We are looking for the Ark of Noah. No one can find it. If we analysis all the Biblical stories, there are stories of the deeds of kings, the journeys of apostles, Brother Jesus' baby birth. The Old Testament account provides evidence of God's creation both the heavens and earth, and rest of the history and religious life of ancient Israel from 1300 BC to 100 BC. The New Testament covers hundred years with the birth of Jesus Christ and ends at 125 AD. God is the main character of the Holy Bible within the Old Testament events which are described within the reading text, but His role is not always apparent."

Mazzi frowned. "And what do all those statements mean to me, computer nerd?"

Lucy nodded with a grin. "The Holy Bible doesn't define God or try to prove His existence. It testifies who He is, what He does to His children and with His property planet Earth, such like, the Flood and the Plagues. And what God expects from us, His children, and promises us, His children a heaven of peace, which does not exist on planet Earth."

Jorge nodded with a smile. "The Book of Psalms is made up of prayers and hymns. Psalms began as oral literature sung thousands of years ago. So, as time passed, the people or the prophets wrote down the stories for people to read and learn. The Holy Bible stories include love poetry, songs, hymns, riddles, essays, fiction, history and proverbs."

Harper nodded with a grin. "The Holy Bible is a collection of stories about both great and ordinary people, who experience and record their struggles, hopes, failures, and triumphs. The Holy Bible is read over and over by billions of people every day for guiding of their life into the glory of faith and redemption of sin. Some people believed every event actually happened..."

Lucy nodded with a smile. "I do."

Harper frowned. "Some people feel that the events are just symbols."

Lucy shook her curls with a stern face. "I do not."

Garnett nodded with a smile. "Some people find that the Holy Bible only is an expression of faith. The Holy Bible is not a history book. It is a book of faith. Biblical scholars have noted differences in the word vocabulary, the writing style, the names for God, and the duplication of stories which could be evidenced by several persons or groups of persons. The Holy Bible was written over a period of five hundred years by a vast set of various authors as dictated by God."

Harper smiled. "The Book of Revelation was written by Brother John, describing the seven letters to be delivered onto the seven churches about of God's final triumph through Savior Lord and Jesus Christ over evil and death through the fight with the army of heavenly archangels."

Mazzi frowned at Dorothy. "What a minute? Are we are looking for the Noah's Ark, not the Apocalypse, right, team leader? Am I inside the right casino lounge without my money, dropping down a slot machine with an alcoholic drink in both hands?"

Bluff nodded with a smile. "The Holy Bible starts with the Creation when both Adam and Eve are expelled from Paradise. Where did Adam go? What did he do for all these years? He lived and then died, of course. The next event was the great Flood and the pilot Noah, who was Adam's real great, great, great, great, great, great son or pretty close enough to his biological blood-kin. The Flood killed everyone, but Noah and his family. Noah and his family multiplied, begetting Abraham's sons and daughters. Then, the Old Testament picked up with the ancestry of the Israelites and the Exodus from Pharaoh by Moses. It ended with the journey into the Promised Land of Canaan and the death of Moses. The New Testament was about Brother Jesus. So, what happened between Adam and Noah's timeline?"

Mazzi shook a ponytail with a sour frown. "Go and ask God? He definitely knows." He sat back with a smile, staring at Dorothy.

Bluff nodded with a smirk to Dorothy. "I do know."

Jorge grinned at Dorothy. "Are you smoking something illegal, Willie? Because, no one knows at least inside my weekly Sunday school class," he chuckled with the other scientists.

Bluff smiled at Dorothy, "Between the Old and New Testament, there are these hidden books which are called, the Apocrypha. We know this information to be true based on both the educated scholars and the nosy scientists. For example, the Tobit tells of Solomon's adventures and philosophy along with his daily moral lessons. I'm tattle telling here. There are hidden scriptures inside Noah's Ark, not a U-boat shape of gopher wood. This is what we are seeking for today."

Jorge clapped with a smile. "Whoa!"

Mazzi leaned over the chair arm with a sour frown, looking with a puzzled brow into the nose profile of Bluff. "How did you figure that, old man?"

Bluff continued to smile and nod to Dorothy. "The great Flood is mentioned by numerous civilizations, such like, the Ancient Middle East from the Babylonians, the Sumerians, the Jewish, and the Islamic; the Asia-Pacific nations of China, Loa, India, Andaman Islands, Indonesia, Australia, New Zealand, and Malaysia; the Europe cultures of Greek, Germanic, Irish and Finnish; the American people of Aztec, Inca, May, Hopi, Caddo, Menominee, and finally the Polynesians. No one is exempt from this once in a life time Bible storyline."

Lucy frowned at Dorothy. "These are the historical teachings of Christianity that is spread by the monks, missionaries, apostles, and prophets."

Bluff continued to smile and nod to the team leader Dorothy. "About 5,000 years ago, the Sumerian culture began with codes of laws that were displayed in the format of colorless drawings and weird writings. About 3,500 years ago, the Egyptian culture used the same codes of laws that were displayed within hieroglyphics which were more advanced than the Sumerian society."

"Aliens, you mean!" Mazzi smiled at Dorothy. "If we find a twirling space ship and a dining room table of little darling green aliens inside that cracked limestone opening and not Noah's Ark, then I'm calling Hollywood and getting all my money back on their silly sci-fi movies," he chuckled with some of the other scientists.

Bluff frowned, "Gentlemen!"

"Where?" Jorge laughed with a clap of amusement.

Dorothy frowned at each face, "Doctors."

"Present," Jorge raised a palm into the air with a smile and a chuckle.

Bluff nodded with a stern face to Dorothy. "About 5,600 years ago, the dramatic flooding of all landlocked rivers was caused by the catastrophic deluge, coming from the boiling waters of the Mediterranean Sea. The sea waters dumped down into the Black Sea and then traveled beyond the landmass borders. However, a team of numerous and curious researchers from numerous and non-fun expeditions have searched but have not uncovered the boat of Noah's Ark on top of Mount Ararat. I believe that they are looking in the wrong place."

Lucy tossed a hand into the air with a sour frown at Dorothy. "Wait a minute! Adam was projected to be the first man created by Almighty God and then the non-human-like cave woman Lucy was found 100,000 years ago inside her home continent of Africa."

Amos frowned. "Cavemen don't count here. Since, it was an experiment gone badly wrong by Almighty God," he chuckled with some of the scientists.

Li frowned. "Almighty God doesn't experiment."

Amos nodded with a smile. "Of course, He does. Witches. Werewolves. Vampires. Who made them? The wind? The dust? The sun? Almighty God did so, but not all at once, since He just takes his sweet tea time," he chuckled with some of the other scientists.

Mazzi frowned, "Monsters didn't exist, Amos."

"Satan, demons, angels, ghosts, furies," Amos nodded with a grin.

Dorothy frowned at each face, "Silence, children! Please continue, Will."

Bluff nodded with a stern face to Dorothy. "In the Book of Genesis, Almighty God created the male and female and then blessed both of them. Almighty God blessed them to be fruitful and multiply and then ordained them to have dominion over the fish of the sea, over the fowl of the air, over the cattle of the land, and over the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the ground..."

Mazzi chuckled, "Creepeth, a very strange odd word, indeed!"

Jorge laughed. "Wonder, how the apostle figured out how to spell that one?"

Amos smiled, "C.r.e.e.p.e.t.h."

Dorothy exhaled with a puff of frustration and a sour frown at each highly educated team mate. "Listen, children!"

Will smiled with a nod at Dorothy. "Adam died at the age of 930 years old. The Flood was around 2,900 BC. Noah died at the old age of 950 years."

Jorge shook a skull with a smile. "I don't wanna live to be that old, ever."

Mazzi reached over and flicked the earlobe of Jorge with a sour frown, "If you keep interrupting, you won't be alive for the fried catfish and hush puppies dinner bell, tonight." He dropped the arm with a chuckle.

Jorge turned and frowned at the nose profile of Mazzi. "I'm been threatened over here inside this shared loveseat by It, again."

Lucy raised a hand into the air with a puzzled brow at team leader Dorothy. "So, after your enlightened lecture, we are seeking another undiscovered copy of the Koran inside Noah's Ark."

Will nodded with a smile to Dorothy. "The Koran is the sacred book of the Mohammedans, containing the religious, social, civic, commercial, military, and legal code of Islam. There are one hundred and fourteen chapters which are told by Mecca, Medina, and the arch-angel Gabriel with the sound of bells that are written in Arabic that were compiled from the lips of Mohammed."

Jorge turned and frowned at the nose profile of Will. "And why are we sitting around here on top of the pretty mint green fabric loveseats?"

Mazzi nodded with a smile, "The money."

Will smiled with a nod to Dorothy. "Yes, my money is expensing both your fee and this trip. I would like to continue my lecture. Inside the Sumerian culture, they saw the universe as earth, an enclosed dome that was surrounded by water and under the dome, it was the underworld. This is also a shared Christian point of view. There was a god of the dome for earth, a god of the water, a god of the underworld, a god of the sun, and a goddess of the moon. Their myths stated that the gods had created the humans for their servants for themselves but freed them, when they became too much to handle. I do believe this coincides with Almighty God, creating mankind inside the storyline, when Adam and Eve attacked that damn apple and were expelled from paradise. The Sumerian society exchanged both cultural and linguistic information with the Semitic Akkadian, the Amorite Babylonians, and the Hittites retelling a similar storyline, paralleling the Biblical accounts of both Noah and the Flood, except they called it the Sumerian deluge myth. Research scholars discovered the shared storyline within 40,000 clay tablets which were written about 5,000 years old. I believe many more books of the Holy Scripture are hidden within Noah's Ark for the finder to discover and share with the entire world."

Mazzi frowned. "So this is the point of your story telling."

Lucy frowned. "Then we are looking for the Noah's Ark within the state of Alabama."

Jorge shook a skull with a sour frown, "What? Naw."

Will smiled with a nod to Dorothy. "Within the Sumerian codes, scholars had discovered inside the clay tablets more Biblical parallels to Brother Job which accounted for the suffering and the submission of the faithful which was rewarded by a deity. Another shared example, the Sumerian codes covered the proclamations of divorce, perjury, adultery, and penalties retribution of stealing. A good example, an eye for an eye is stated inside the Holy Bible. Another good example is the story of Dilmun or the Garden of Eden, where Dilmun is a pure, clean, bright non-party place with neither sickness or death with an abundance of fruit trees and gardens."

Mazzi frowned. "So if there are really hidden clay tables inside the Ark, why didn't the scholars already theory that tidbit of information? This is the first time that I've heard of this silly theory."

Will smiled with a nod to Dorothy. "Because, the Sumerian cultured had disappeared without explanation. The scholars or scientists can't address that question either with a pen or a notebook. No one can answer why Babylon was destroyed besides Almighty God getting anger and then destroying His children for decadence."

Lucy shook her black colored curls with a confused brow. "There was told inside the Holy Bible that Almighty God was responsible for the destruction of His cities, because they re-engaged in the worshipping of pagan gods, while ignoring the good advice of Noah."

Amos frowned. "I don't understand."

Lucy frowned. "I don't like your conclusion."

Will smiled with a nod to Dorothy. "It is not a conclusion. This is a theory. Noah had written it all down inside his clay tablets or his leather books which are all hidden inside the Ark."

Jorge frowned. "Books? I don't know that Noah possessed a set of breakable clay tablets or written books on animal leather goods."

Amos smiled with a nod. "Those could be worth billions."

Jorge grinned with a nod, "Zillions!"

Mazzi smiled with a nod. "Priceless."

Jorge stood upright from the loveseat and danced side to side with a smile and a hum in front of the other scientists, "I'm going to be rich, richer, richest..."

Mazzi frowned with confusion. "Are you sharing your trillion dollar find with us here inside this room, Will, the billionaire?"

Dorothy reached over and pressed a button on the remote control devise inside her lap, pointing to the television screen on the wall behind her skull with a smile. "Look over here on the plasma television screen. This is the Coosa River, flowing up from the beach city of Mobile within the US State of Alabama, moving across into the city of Rome within the US State of Georgia. The Coosa River flows northwest and floats down towards the southwest," she pressed the button again. "This is an enlargement of the limestone cliff which is a natural structure along the Coosa River which is upriver five miles from here at Weetumpee. It has existed there for eons. Three days ago, our slight earthquake knocked a crack inside the limestone bedrock. The US Park and Water Service Department went to investigate with the intention to plug the hole. Instead, the crack revealed a deep dark cavern, when the bright white colored flashlights shined into the tight opening. When one of the park rangers tapped on the bedrock, the crack expanded into a small crawl space for one person. Over the past three days, the crawl space has broken off into larger chunks, sliding down and falling directly into the river. Now, the crack has surprisingly revealed a set of small pebbles, larger rocks, and wood bits..."

"Wooden bits!" Mazzi frowned with confusion at Dorothy. "Wooden pieces are located inside a natural gray colored chalk limestone cliff. That's really weird."

"And it is intriguing too," Will nodded with a smile at Dorothy. "We're going to investigate, scientists. I suspect in theory that the clay tablets were transported from Noah's Ark by other blood relatives, probably a gang of thieves. Remember? When Almighty God let loose the flood waters, the one-land divided in many land continents. I suspect that some of Noah's close distance relatives took off by naked feet, carrying away some or part of the breakable clay tablets with them luck or reward or evil," he chuckled with some of the scientists.

"Back to reality, team mates!" Dorothy nodded with a grin, "At the rear of the room, you will see a pile of green ugly leather backpacks and expensive good steady cliff climbing gear. Every scientist must wear a helmet, a life-vest, a pair of gloves, a set of knee braces, and the eye goggles to become money rich and a part of the exploring research team."

The scientists stood upright from each loveseat with smiles and twist around, moving towards the rear wall of the room with the gear.

Dorothy continued to sit with a smile and lifted an object near her face. "And you must fill and sign the legal papers inside the front pouch of the backpack. Every backpack is exactly the same. Please, provide me with your personalized signed and dated legal paper. Ink pens are supplied inside your backpack, too. You can bring any personal gear, including cell phones, cameras, or whatever. But I'm not responsible for damage or lost." She pressed the button for a third time and thumbed back over a collar bone at the plasma television. "Look over here behind my shoulder! The flowing fresh waters before and after the limestone cliffs are a set of river rapids. The rippling water is class three white water rapids."

Mazzi squatted down and dumped out each items from his selected backpack over the floor, looking for the ink pen and the legal papers. "Dang, class three white water rapids are not smooth going into the wall of hard river rocks. Who's paddling my boat?"

Skippy stood upright from the loveseat with a smile and spun around, moving ahead towards the rear wall, squatting and grabbing a backpack also. "I'm lead on one boat. Mazzi, you're lead on the second boat. It doesn't matter which boat you sit inside, since each one will wear all the gear, where I will be checking first. We'll lead out by two helicopters. The copters will land on in the grass, not in the mud. We have two river platoons which are loaded and ready with the proper rapid water gear. Also, we have to climb a rope ladder up along the cliff face which should be easy. The rope leads directly into the newly expanded crack of the cavern. Mazzi and Jorge will be assisting folks up from the cliff for safely. Don't worry! And don't ask me any more questions. I'm clueless about the inners in the cavern and content like you," he reached out and dresses his body with the water gear too.

Dorothy stood upright from the loveseat with a smile and extended a palm. "After all the papers are collected, we leave out towards the two helicopters. Select and pick any seat on the copter and be calm! The next couple of hours are going to be unpredictable on this trip..."

"Space trip," Mazzi spun around with a smile and moved ahead, stopping and handed the signed and dated legal paper that relieved the billionaire of any personal body damage of the team before, during, and after the research mission.

Coosa River water rapids location

Limestone cliff cavern interior setting

(Three miles, north, from city of Weetumpee)

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine and parted clouds

with six miles-per-hour winds and 87 percent humidity

Inside the first river platoon boat, Dorothy thrust a single paddle down against the rough waves as the water splashed up and hit her face again. She spat out the fresh water, closing the eyelashes, exhaling with a puff of annoyance. She reached up and brushed off the cold water from a face for vision. The river platoon dove down and up over cold water again when another rough wave hits her face.

Skippy maneuvered the second river platoon towards the assigned limestone cliff wall.

Dorothy could see a man-made rope that hung down from a large bolt that had been drilled up into the limestone boulder.

Skippy guided the paddle and slammed the rubber river platoon against the tall rock wall as the rough waves smashed into the riders and the floor of the boat. He reached out and tied off the platoon into the second rope, securing it, so the platoon didn't drift along the river. He stood upright and shifted around the riders inside the boat, reaching down and tapped the collar bone of Li first. She slowly stood with a wobble and fell back down into her seat with a grunt. Skippy reached down and lifted Li by the two armpits, hooking a rappelling rope onto the rear of her life jacket. He reached up and tugged on the rope. The rope slowly lifted Li up and onto the fourth ream of the rope ladder.

Li turned and slowly climbed up the rope in a pair of gloves, reaching the top of the rope ladder as her boot soles disappeared from the eye view of Skippy into the crack of the cave inside the cliff wall.

Skippy reached down and assisted the rest of the scientists onto the rope ladder and watched each one disappear into the cracked opening of the limestone cavern. He double checked the latch, connecting the rope to the river platoon and then he climbed up the rope ladder.

Interior cavern setting

Dark and damp environment

Skippy climbed the rope and stood inside the archway of the enclosed dark and damp cavern with a puzzled brow. A series of tiny bright flashlight beams winked back and forth, coming from an upright dark shadow, each scientist. They squatted down or scurried around a small pile of wooden planks that rested over the white chalky stone floor.

Mazzi stood in place and tapped onto the stone wall with a chuckle, reading out loud the etched string of printed words. "Kobold is here."

"Stop it, Mazzi!" Jorge squatted down and tapped on an individual wooden piece of plank with a naked hand, studying it with intrigue.

Amos stood with a confused brow over a second individual wooden piece of plank on the opposite wall from Mazzi with a smile. "Kobold is a German ghost or a Scottish brownie," chuckling.

Each scientist could hear the rushing waters of the rapids, birds singing, and the scraping noises of each river platoon boats that were all tied below as each platoon hit the cliff wall, coming from the rough waves in the background. Skippy continued to block the crack opening with a body and a backpack, surveying each team mate for stress, panic, or trouble.

Lucy squatted down over a third individual wooden piece of plank with a smile. "Kobold is a gnome that works in the mines or inside the forests."

Jorge squatted down with a laugh and examined a fourth individual piece of wooden plank. "It ain't mine."

Harper stood upright with a smile and studied the gray limestone wall with the flashlight. "It definitely is not a forest either."

Dorothy squatted down and tapped on the fifth individual piece of wooden plank with a stern face. "These particular knife curved drawings within the wood appear to be some type of unknown symbols. I believe this might be actually wooden planks from the Biblical Ark. This symbol translates into the Arabic word, kochlani."

Lucy nodded with a smile and continued to examine her individual wooden plank. "The word kochlani means, a royal horse of the Arabian line. It could represent one of the many royal off springs from the stables of King Solomon. His royal stallion was named Neibuhr."

Mazzi turned with a chuckle and scanned the dark hole of gray stone inside the cliff. "Where are the ancient leather textbooks or the ancient broken clay tables from Almighty God?"

Amos turned with a confused brow and scanned the dark hole of stone inside the cliff also. "Where is the Ark of the Covenant?"

Will stood in front of all the scattered wooden planks and scanned the back spine of each scientist with a sour frown of disappointment. "I expected to find more evidence of an additional Holy Scripture here inside the stone cave. I was so certain," he spun around and moved towards Skippy with a nod and a sour frown.

Skippy continued to block the crack opening with a body and caressed his personal hand gun, watching for any trouble, saying with a stern face to Will, "Impossible."

Dorothy shifted a hand and tapped over her individual wooden piece of plank with a gasp. "The next symbol curved into the wooden plank reads the word, malum. Malum is the Latin word for apple."

Li shook her curls at the individual wooden piece of plank. "No. You're incorrect, Dorothy. Malus, mala, and malum all are Latin words, meaning 'an evil.' When Eve ate the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden, she became evil. And then Eve and Adam were expelled from paradise."

"Whoa! Evil inside a stone cave with a pile of rotting wooden planks," Jorge continued to survey the individual wooden plank with a laugh and a smile.

Harper continued to touch the individual wooden plank with a confused brow. "What does each individual or group of symbols mean on each wooden plank? How did all the wood planks get inside a stone cave from millions of years ago?"

Dorothy shifted over the wooden plank and touched the next symbol which was embedded into the wood with a stern face. "Mammon, it is a Syrian word that means riches. It is the god of the material world which also is quoted inside the Holy Bible. The quote comes from the Book of Matthew. It says that 'you cannot serve Almighty God and mammon, both.'"

Lucy continued to squat in front of the individual wooden plank with the flashlight and looked up with a stern face to see the rear skull of Dorothy. "The biblical quote translates into a personification of both evils of wealth and misery. I don't understand this cave and these wooden pieces."

Dorothy shifted to the side and touched the next symbol. "There is another symbol. Kafir is 'an infidel' within the Arabic language. The name was given to the Hottentots, who rejected the Moslem faith."

Harper continued to squat own in front of the wooden plank and tapped on the wood with a confused brow. "Why are all those symbols etched onto a wooden plank? What is the purpose here? What does it all translate into inside the cavern?"

Jorge stood upright from the individual wooden plank with a smile and a chuckle, turning to scan the dark hole. "This entire space trip doesn't make any sense. Seeing it is, believing in it. I guess that I see. And I still don't believe it."

Amos turned and moved around the cavern to the next wall with a smile and a nod. "Possession is nine-tenths of the legal law. Isn't that correct, there, Legal Man William? Right, Doc Mazzi!"

Harper stood upright from the wooden plank and pointed down at the plank with a confused brow. "This is a curse, not a warning."

Mazzi stood in front of the gray wall of stone with a laugh. "So Noah built a bookcase for his ancient leather books and then he ditched all the wooden planks here inside the unknown territory of the future home for a bunch of Bama rednecks to find and burn for kindle inside the fireplace." He leaned over and fist bumped with Jorge as they both laughed.

Amos moved around each wall and reached out, touching it with a smile. "We accomplished our task, our mission. Let's go home and get warm. I'm tired. I want a hot bath and a cold beer, before a plate of catfish and hush puppies for supper."

"Who's going to tote out all these wooden planks from the cavern?" Harper continued to squat in front of the wooden plank, staring at the rear skull of Dorothy.

Mazzi turned and laughed at the elderly man. "William is. This is his, all his legal property, now."

Lucy stood upright and stared down with a confused brow at the individual wooden plank. "I don't understand. What could two piles of wooden planks possibility mean to anyone living in the modern world?"

"It's a message." Dorothy continued to squat and tapped on the individual wooden plank with a stern face and a nod.

Skippy continued to scan each stone wall, each scientist, and each wooden plank. Someone shoved the back spine of Skippy. Skippy sailed to the side of the wall, moving away from the entrance portal into the cavern, slapping a face into the hard stone.

Then they appeared and blocked the crack opening of bright sunlight into the dark cavern.

Will stopped and stood in place with a sour frown at the gang of unknown strangers. "Who are you? We have an Alabama legal permit to survey this historical land site here on the Coosa River."

The adult was a tall male with a tone of dark skin on a muscular body, smiling at Will. "Speak English for the stupid Americans. The question is. What are we?"

Skippy reached up and wiped the blood from a face, reaching down and whipped out the hand gun, too late. The other set of hand guns pointed and fired at each scientist. An array of flying bullets ricocheted with a sound of loud pings, coming off the stone and back into the bloody flesh of each dying scientist. Skippy aimed and fired an array of bullets, killing the speaking stranger, tossing the empty hand gun and stood upright, running and attacked the nearest stranger with a set of fighting fists. Skippy and the stranger twirled around and around, spinning towards the entrance opening. The stranger reared back a fist and punched on the face of Skippy. Skippy twirled around and fell backward into the wall, standing upright with a sneer. The stranger reared back a fist and hit the face of Skippy again. Skippy fell backward for a second time and hit the open crack of the cavern mouth.

A second stranger reached out and grabbed Will. Will fought with pants and shouted with worry, "Son, save yourself! I love..."

Skippy did not catch the hand holes on the smooth stone wall, falling backward, dropping down through the entrance opening. His body descended down the cliff face and hit the middle floor of the river platoon. His body bounced up and down a few inches and then finally landed down onto a back spine with a loud grunt and a mouth of blood. His impact and his tallness jerked the rope ladder off each metal bolt, releasing the river platoon boat. Then the platoon swiftly sailed down the rough waters of the Coosa River, steering towards a smooth lagoon. He closed his eyelids with throbbing pain and a set of aching limbs, hearing a set of more gun blasts and piercing screams from each dying scientist inside the entrapped limestone cavern.

Then, Skippy passed out into unconsciousness of darkness.

08:35 am

City of Birmingham within the US State of Alabama

(23 miles, northwest, from the Coosa River)

Warm temperatures with parted clouds of sunrays

Home setting of Salvatella Abaigar, MD

Interior car setting of Islander

The male was a tall adult with a head of light blonde colored hair, a face of blonde whiskers, a tone of pale tinted skin, a pair of blue eyes. He was thirty something years old with a smile. "Title 18, section 2320?" Islander watched the house and asked the funny question, tapping both palms onto the steering wheel of his personal car, turning with a smile to see his working partner Kay Lexington.

Kay Lexington was a tall queen-sized female with a head of black colored short hair, a tone of pale tinted skin, a pair of dark green eyes and thirty something years old. She used her cleverly and creatively shorten version of his name with a sour tone, "Shut it, Is." She wore a pair of super magnified binoculars around both eyeballs, studying the open glass panes on the assigned house, where they would eventually present an arrest warrant.

"Not multiple choice option! So, trafficking in counterfeit goods." Islander reached down and wrote out the correct answer onto a note of paper that was filled with a set of typed questions. The small note pad of paper was located between the empty spaces inside the steering column of his new sports car in fire engine red with a set of black glossy aluminum alloy wheels.

He and she were agents from the FDA team, watching the house as the new assignment for the day.

"Shut it, Is." She continued to survey the house through the binoculars.

"Trafficking. Why trafficking spelled t.r.a.f.f.i.c.k and not..."

"Shut it, Is." She continued to survey the house through the binoculars.

"O. A noun, pronoun, or verb meaning track fuck. There's got to be no other description then the translation, track fuck," he chuckled with a nod, "Must be one of our buzz words within the FDA database, right, Lex?"

"Shut it, Is." She continued to survey the house through the binoculars.

"Did ya re-cert, yet? Me gots to do it, next week, to stay OCI special agent for the FDA, and keep my puny paycheck, dropping down into my empty bank account to pay for my new sports car..."

"Shut it, Is." She continued to survey the house through the binoculars.

He caresses the leather steering wheel and then the dashboard with a smile. "You like my new sports car?"

"Shut it, Is." She continued to survey the house through the binoculars.

He turned and smiled at the house, "Why we here?"

"The FDA is pursing all biomedical researchers that are engaged in any and all illegal pharmaceutical practices, when applying for any type of proper drug license," she studied the house through the binoculars.

He chuckled at the house. "O. Some research in neurobiology, neurology, and psychiatry supporting brain tumors, neurodegeneration therapeutics, epilepsy, autism, multiple sclerosis, Alzheimer's and Parkinson's diseases. Medical research provides scientists with an infrastructure to access new types of pharmaceutical drugs. Burn U or Birmingham University got a new MRI scanner that scans only the skull bone and the brain matter. That's one of the coolest and latest equipment monitoring..."

"This doc can grow parts of the body, without God's help, using stem cells."

He continued to smile at the house, "Why we here?"

"Burn U ranks twenty fourth among all academic institutions in the USA, using our US Federal paid income taxes, funding a public bank account for research with a set of legal drugs and unapproved medical mechanic devices. The US Federal paid income taxes total over eight hundred million dollars, which is almost one billion dollars that involves close to 1,200 docs."

He nodded with a smile at the house. "Wow."

"Stem cell research classifies into three main types: embryonic, adult, and reprogrammed cells."

"Embryonic?"

She spied at the house through the binoculars, "Baby stem cells."

He turned and smiled at the binoculars that covered her pretty eyeballs. "I read this research medical report. It said that there is stem cell gel, not hair gel that delivers a nerve pop of energy that restores the hearing of small deaf mammals. Why would Almighty God make small deaf mammals, Lex?"

She spied at the house through the binoculars. "Shut it, Is."

"Stem cells are nothing but cells that divide like mathematics into embryonic and adult cells. Then, they all grow up to be new organs, such as, skin, tissues, intestines, and blood."

"Shut it, Is."

He turned and smiled at the house. "What the she-doc do wrong?"

She exhaled with a puff of annoyance and turned the binoculars, studying at the surrounding house lawns and city streets, "Harvesting! She was stealing literally all the stem cells of blood, coming from the umbilical cord of the newborn infant inside the womb of the new mommy-to-be during a scheduled patient examination session."

"Whoa!"

She smiled behind the binoculars. "Do you ride a horse, Is?"

"Stem cells are found inside the amniotic fluid of an unborn baby inside the womb of the mommy-to-be. The first amniotic stem cells bank opened in the year 2009 here in the USA, working with all the hospitals and all the research universities on medical tissue regeneration of injured and elderly patients. The President of the USA called the amniotic stem cells, the future of medicine. The stem cells are very active, expanding without feeders of feathers from birds or feet of mice. And the amniotic stem cell does not cause or duplicate cancer cells. So, the doc can sell her baby products on the black market. How much did she make last year? I might be starting my own company," he chuckled at the house.

"Bank statements recorded one hundred and twenty-five million dollars within the calendar year, starting in the first month of January."

He continued to smile at the house. "Whoa! How she gets captured?"

She dropped the binoculars and stared at the nose profile of Islander. "You didn't learn about verbs within your elementary school. Did you, Is?" He smiled at the house in silence. She smiled. "I guess rednecks only utilize. Utilize is a fancy term for use. Rednecks only utilize the noun and exclamation combo. Our job is to capture and arrest her, after she got really greedy and then filed an amniotic fluid patient charge on her medical bill with the smart and greedy health insurance company. One the smart underpaid registered nurses got more curious and discovered the single patient medical charge and then found many more laboratory tests for the so-called amniotic fluid medical test that had been conducted within her private physician office. The registered nurse called the office manager and asked for the results of the laboratory tests of the amniotic fluid. When the physician office manager couldn't provide the lab test plus the laboratory result, the physician suggested eliminating the patient charge from the insurance payment to her business office. This wasn't only a weird suggestion from a greedy physician who didn't want money, but an unethical practice. Since, the insurance company had previous paid all the monies for the amniotic fluid medical tests, without a set of results to the physician for the numerous patient medical bills. The doc didn't seem concerned, since she was in the country of Spain at the time doing her extracurricular activities. Three registered nurses called lots of skulls and talked to lots of faces. The final call was to us, the FDA. Now, we are here waiting for her to come back home," she points at the mansion within the luxurious suburban community of Birmingham.

"So, me and you, here to..."

"The embryonic stem cell comes in three gut tubes: ectoderm, endoderm, and mesoderm. Ectoderm is the nerves and skin. Endoderm represents the lungs. The mesoderm makes up the muscle, bone, and the blood vessel. In essence, it is everything else that connects all three gut tubes."

He turned and winked at her. "My gut tells me that's the important one."

"In order to maintain an undifferentiated state of the stem cells, they are grown inside a bed of mice guts within a layer of gelatin as an extracellular matrix without the optimal culture combo or the embryonic stem cells rapidly differentiate."

"They morph into a monster rat which is the size of my motorbike. So she got a few exotic pets living with her at the house."

"The basement is a home-made laboratory with dozens of cages and dozens of invoices, coming from the local pet store that is around the street corner. The pet store sells the gray furry things with four legs and pink noses."

"Did she freeze the growing stem cells on the live mice?"

"She shipped all the mice and the grown stem cells alive inside a set of cages to the following foreign counties, Great Britain, Italy, Spain, and others. She broke about twenty-three international laws of fright shipment of live animal imports. Plus, she committed about fifteen criminal international acts, directly invading the foreign cities, where the foreign governments have a moratorium on all stem cells. The foreign government view that stem cells possesses the superhuman ability to expand the pluripotency into a potential source of some type of regenerative medicine for tissue replacement, after a body injury or a body disease."

He turned and scanned the streets with a chuckle, "What that pluripotency, again?"

"Shut it, Is."

"O. Pluripotency, from the Latin word plurimus, meaning very many. Potens means having power. So, the very many, having the power to develop into an awesome cool regeneration man or woman," he turned and winked at her.

She exhaled. "Pluripotent stem cells cannot give rise into a fetal or adult organism, since it lacks a placenta. The placenta contains the nutrients from a host like a mommy-to-be who feeds the fetus for growth and survival."

He smiled. "O. A neanderthal-like regenerate man or woman. Research shows that stem cells can treat patients with leukemia and it has the potential with world-wide future implementations to treat a world wider variety of diseases, such like, other body cancers, spinal cord injuries, MD, muscle damage..."

"The treatment risk of the transplanted stem cells can always form tumors, becoming cancerous, if the cell divides and continues to grow out of control inside a sicker human body. That is why there are currently no approved treatments using a set of embryonic stem cells."

"I argue that a human with any type of permanent disabling injury or terminal disease is more than willing to take the risk and the chance that the medical potential will overcome a hope of a life time trauma event."

"If the stem cells which are good or bad pluripotent cells are injected directly into another human warm body, then that warm body can cause a teratoma."

He turned and chuckled at the neighbor's house, "What that teratoma, again?"

"Shut up, Is."

"O. A tumor that grows many gut layers, possessing hair, teeth, bone, eyeballs, finger pads, toe bones..."

"Very rare, Is."

"Recorded by the medical diagnosis of teratoma, based on its histology which was made by pathologists usually more common inside the ovaries of women and the testes of men within a cyst, that resembles a fetus with hair, arms and..."

"Shut it, Is."

Her mobile telephone spoke out loud via one of the other FDA agents. The other FDA agent team was hiding inside an unmarked at the street intersection. "Mark is coming to you at nine o'clock."

Islander and Lex flipped a face to see the rear window, watching the luxury sedan that curved around the private driveway. The luxury sedan steered down below ground into a four-car garage which was next store to the secret basement that held the private laboratory, where the physician conducted her secret experiments on the poor little gray mice.

A set of two doors cracked opened. They exited and slammed the twin doors at the same time.

Islander spun around to face Kay and reached down, pulling out the gun revolver, holding it two-fisted, aiming down at the asphalt pavement with a stern face.

"Diplomatic approach, first! Then, the cowboy show, not at all." Lex slapped a set of manicured blue colored fingernails on top of the roof of his new muscle car with a frown at Islander.

Islander pouted and stared down at the hand gun, releasing a right shooting hand from the two-fisted pose, dropping the weapon down even with a kneecap, looking up with a wink at her.

Lex rolled her green colored eyeball and back stepped from the car, scooting around the front bumper, pulling up beside him and moved ahead towards the front door of the physician. She carried and shouldered a handbag, containing all the arresting legal documents, her Alabama driver's license, and her wallet. She reached inside and pulled out the FDA ID badge, dropping the necktie around her neck, jerking the arrest warrant out from the side pocket of the purse with a stern face.

Islander always wore his ID which was stamped in color of dark blue and designed in a set of six-inched letters that showed FDA over a white T-shirt. He learned that trick from a good buddy inside the local FBI office on the Southside community within Birmingham. His necktie with the authentic FDA badge swung back and forth across a chest, marching ahead towards the house, holding the revolver at the knee for ready action.

Lexington and Islander moved up the set of nice bricked steps and stopped, standing in front of the nice front door. She reached out and touched the doorbell with a fake smile. "I handle the introduction this time, before you shoot the whites of her eyeballs."

"I like being both efficient and efficacy. Since, that's the official FDA motto, Lex."

The door cracked wide and presented a queen-sized woman.

Kay lifted up and showed the FDA badge which was even with the eyeballs of the physician and the paper arrest warrant. "Doctor Salvatella Abaigar, you are under arrest for illegal exportation of..."

Salvatella back stepped with an open mouth and spun around, running up the stairs in silence.

Kay shook her curls with a sour frown. "Go, cowboy."

Islander pivoted and whistled. His dog Lester jumped out from the open window, dashing over the city street and towards his master. Islander trotted back down the bricked steps and squatted on the sideway. The dog slowed and sat in a regal pose, awaiting the command order. Islander said. "Ataque, Lester! Go around the rear of the house. Vamus," he pointed the rear of the house corner.

Lester was a human name for the German shepherd dog who knew what to do and who to catch, since the house contained one person. Lester turned and dashed towards the house corner for his new assignment.

On the front porch, Kay pointed up towards the winding staircase inside the house with a stern face. "She went up into the attic. There's a door and space, maybe for another laboratory, Is."

"Got it!" Islander turned and run up the exterior steps, running behind her back spine, since he was the muscle and the sheriff. Kay was the lady and the judge. He pounded the carpet and hit the top level of the staircase, halting, scanning an empty hallway.

There was a new door by the viewing window.

He turned and ran down the hallway, stopping, studying the partly cracked door. He lifted and aimed the cold barrel of the hand gun into the darkness, swinging the wood open with a toe boot, spotting emptiness. He quickly shuffled into the room, studying the emptiness. It was a false face of full of dirty windows, displaying the grove of tall trees inside the back yard. Then, his eyeballs saw a second door. He turned and dashed ahead, flinging the door open with a hand, holding the gun into the darkness, standing inside the new archway with a puzzled brow.

Lex appeared and stood inside the first archway of the door. "Clear!" She held the gun into the room and dropped it down after seeing Islander near the second door. She moved ahead and stood behind his back spine.

He pointed inside the hallway of darkness with a sour frown. "The first door and associated room fake. This door leads down into another set of dark whining steps. I theorize here. The secret laboratory is down there inside the basement." Lex nodded in silence. He turned and climbed down the descending steps and watched for the physician, landing onto a floor of hard rough concrete and halted. He studied the dank set of two enclosed concrete walls and moved ahead towards a third closed door, reaching out and pulling the metal door open with a free hand. The cold barrels of the revolver pointed into the dark danger.

Inside the basement room of man-made cold temperatures with artificial light bulbs, Salvatella shifted her queen-sized body movements side to side, flinging both arms and legs into the numerous free standing metal medical trays, scooting away the rolling office chairs, and running into sets of medical reference manuals. Each item flicked off her queen-sized body as she twirled side to side throughout the laboratory with an escape from the FDA agents.

Islander stood inside the archway with a chuckle at her circus clown show, training the cold barrel on her fat ass, not shooting like a good cowboy. Then he slowly moved inside. Lex replaced Islander inside the archway, slowly strolling a few feet into the home-made basement laboratory.

Salvatella ran ahead towards an exit door on the opposite side of the home-made basement laboratory, slapping a button on the wall. A downpour of fresh dropped down from the overhead sprinkler system. She reached over with a chuckle and pressed a second black colored button. The door slid open. She escaped into the garage, where her car stood.

Islander dashed ahead and halted into the basement laboratory with a sour frown, getting more wet from the sprinkler system inside the basement-laboratory, "Lex, back up and go around the corner! Do you..."

"Ah!" Lex stood inside the archway and drenched in water, flinging both arms of wetness into the air with a sour frown.

Islander stood in place with a wet body and wiped off the water from both eye sockets with a chuckle, "Rain's indoors for today."

Kay frowned. "Is, what's your status?"

He slowly moved ahead and curved around the spilled pieces of furniture, the tiny wet water puddles over the floor, and scattered miscellaneous objects that block his boots with a sneer, "Wet and mad! She went out a side door, leading right into the garage," he successful maneuvered around the weird-ass obstacle course, reaching the closed door and stopped, pressing the same black colored button. The door slid open. He glided forward into the garage and held the gun near his sneer, coming into a full view of the stationary action.

Lester growled and snarled four feet away from a frightened Salvatella Abaigar, who was pissing inside her designer trousers. She was crouched down with a worried brow right behind the front bumper of her new luxury sedan, panting with fear. She turned with fear to see the gun barrel and gun owner Islander with a yell. "Call it off! I surrender. Call it away from me! I give up."

Islander held the gun barrel on her face with a yell to his dog, "Sento, Lester." The dog stopped the growl and sat back on his hind legs, tilting a skull at Islander for the next command. Islander shifted towards Lester, aiming the gun at her skull.

Kay swiftly marched through the open garage door, looking wet and mad with a sneer towards the adult female. "Dr. Lhowe, you are under arrest for the illegal exportation of stem cells by United States Federal Government. Stand up and place both wrists behind your back." Salvatella stood upright with a sour frown in silence and reached back behind a back spine, holding both wrists together. Lex stopped and stood behind the rear skull of physician, reaching down and placed the set if handcuffs over each wrist, shoving the physician towards the driveway.

Outside on top of the private driveway, the other emergency vehicles had arrived along with a van of other FDA agents.

Islander holstered the hand gun and moved ahead, squatting down with a smile, stroking a hand on Lester. "Good buddy, Lester. You're my good buddy, boy." Lester softly barked and still posed at attention for the next command. Islander stood upright with a smile, "Akey, Lester." He moved ahead towards the driveway, coming from the garage space, flinging the wetness from both wet arms with a sour frown, marching ahead over the street pavement towards his car. He stopped. He popped open the rear trunk and retrieved a bag of dry clothes, back stepping and spun around, leaving the truck open. He strolled ahead with Lester, stopping and entering the rear of the FDA van, changing out of the wet clothing into a dry set.

A few minutes later, Islander emerged with a smile and dropped down from the rear door of the van, moving ahead towards Lex and Lester. He stopped and talked with the other FDA officers, the local police, and the paramedics, nodding with a dismissal of the successful arrest.

Salvatella Abaigar, MD stood beside the side of the van in a pair of handcuffs, looking both dry and sad. One of the FDA agents accepted the new criminal and shoved her ass into the rear of a full sized white unmarked family van for a spot inside one of the prisoner rooms within the FDA downtown headquarters office for her arrest. The door closed. Then the van drove away.

Residential driveway setting

Warm temperatures with bright sunshine

Kay had removed all of the wet clothes and wore a fresh set of a FDA sweat suit with a smile, squatting down, patting on Lester. "Good boy, Lester and Is." She stood upright with a smile and a nod to Islander, turning away from the house, moving ahead towards the sports car. "Well, we put away another bad guy, making her greedy materialist possessions."

Islander strolled beside Lester and Kay with a stern face towards the sports car. "Do you want me to drop you by your house for a quick clothing change?" She nodded in silence. He frowned at the car. "I don't know if we have done a good deed today, Lex."

She stopped and stood in front of the passenger door with a stern face and a nod. "Yes, we did. She broke twenty-three international rules..."

He stopped and stood, opening the passenger door like a southern gentleman. Lester jumped up and entered the rear seat first and then Lex leaned over and slide into the passenger seat. He slammed the door and turns, moving around the front bumper of his car. He stopped and scooted into the driver's seat, starting the engine with a sour frown. "I mean. She's a brilliant researcher who was able to grow stem cells on a set of little mice. Then she sold them for a profit. These stem cells did save some lives of terminal-ill people in the wrong way. Isn't that what life is about, helping other folks?" He drove the car away from the residential community onto the roadway towards her home.

Kay frowned with annoyance and shook her curls. "No. She committed an evil act on a tiny unborn child, Is. She deserves and is deserving of her upcoming punishment both jail time and monetary fines up her butthole. She's going to lose her private physician practice, her office building, her house, her new car, her designer clothes, and her bank accounts of money..."

Islander steered the car with a stern face. "Don't know. Dr. Abaigar should have been allowed to craft her medical research and then should have been forced to save more lives of really sick people, who need it. I believe that to be a more just punishment for her greed then allowing her mind and her medical knowledge to rot away inside the local US Federal Government Women's Correctional Institution. Isn't that why we're here on planet Earth to help people?"

Lex shook her curls with a smile. "You live on another planet, Is."

10:15 am

City of Homewood location

George Ward Nature Park

Dog park setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Kay had changed the semi-wet borrowed FDA clothes into a proper business suit and a pair of low heeled pumps. Then Islander drove away from her personal house and stopped inside a grassy park, not the office building.

Kay exited from the car without slamming the door, not moving from spot with a sour frown of the site and the smell. "This is not the nice cool office building of our employment, Is. What's this place?" She turned and scanned the grass and the dogs. Some of the dogs were running around and sniffing the ground. Some of the other dogs were sniffing at each other butthole having a wonderful freedom inside a set of guarded pens.

Islander slid out from the seat and stand near the open car door with a smile, shoving the driver's seat forward. Lester exited from the car and sat at the boot toes of his master Islander for the next doggie command. Islander tossed both arms into the air towards the grassy park. Lester turned and leaped into the air, running through the grass for some playtime and potty time. Islander smiled. "This is the George Ward Nature Park for doggies which operates from sunrise to sunset over 2.6 acres of three fenced areas for dogs that run and play with their owners or without their owners."

Kay slammed the car door with a sour frown and met Islander in front of the car engine. They slowly moved over the grass.

Islander carefully watched the doggie behavior of Lester and waved both arms with a smile. "There are plenty of shade trees with a crooking small stream of fresh water and three playing fields that are separated by rows of fences. One for the tiny small doggies like your poo..."

Lexington gingerly stepped over the pile of poo, "Pekingese."

Islander moved ahead over the grass and pointed the animals with a smile. "Small doggies and large badass breeds like that Doberman with his owner..."

"That Doberman seems to be chasing with a real aggressiveness streak after that little helpless chihuahua. The chihuahua runs with panted breath, dangling her pink tongue towards her mistress. Hmm, I see a gang of large-breed dogs inside both fenced fields. Is that legal?" Lexington turned and scanned the park with a stern face.

Inside the first dog park, Lester stopped and spotted the nasty beast with a growl. Inside the second dog park, the Doberman stopped and allowed the smaller dog to escape from his harm, dashing ahead and stopped, shoving a pointy nose through the linked chained fence with a growl at Lester that separated the two dogs.

Islander nodded with a sour frown and moved behind Lester, "Disrespectful owners. Easy, Lester! He ain't our prey, today."

Lester, Islander, and Lexington ventured ahead and moved towards the northwest side of the baseball-sized field, seeing and smelling the piles of old and fresh dog shit that stood between the matted grass, the tall yellow weeds, and the scattered patches of pretty colorful wildflowers.

Lexington exhaled with a puff of annoyance of the disgusting smell, "Smelly."

"Watch the land mine." Islander stepped over the pile.

"Oops!" Lexington glided over the shit pile of big brown dog turds as big as a pile of horse patties.

"Extremely unhealthy, and the dog shit can spread disease to you and me." Islander watched the short lonely male who stood beside the garage bend with a puzzled brow, moving towards both with a smile.

She zigzagged over the clean grass with a sour frown of disgust, "Shame on the disrespectful dog owners for not cleaning up their disgusting horse turds!"

"This is the point of a doggie park, Lex. The doggies fertilize the grass and the pretty flowers."

She points over to the separate dog pen with a puzzled brow. "What is that space of green grass with its owned fenced-in corner?"

Islander stared at the short lonely male with a smile. "An agility area, where the badass breeds learn to leap, jump, and tackle the smaller predators like a pack of crazy squirrels or a pod of tiny perfumed pookingeses."

"While the badass breeds learn and create disrespectful playmates with the cute and tiny perfumed Pekingese," she turned and stared the short lonely male with a fake smile. "There's our mark."

"Yeah," Islander moved towards the short lonely male. The male faced Islander and Lexington, smoking cigarettes, and laughing at his dog. The Doberman turned from the fence and chased after all the other helpless smaller dogs.

Islander marched ahead and slammed a body into the short lonely male, pinning the male against the garage bend with a smile. "I is Islander."

The male sneered into the chin of Islander as he was shorter, "You is redneck."

Islander grinned. "I prefer hillbilly, man."

The male turned and snarled at Lexington, "You, her poop turd."

Islander reached up and twisted the face of the male, slamming the skull into the garbage receptacle.

The male hit the nose bridge as his nose flowed and flood pretty red blood down the new dress shirt. The male reached up and held the nose with a sissy whine, "I...sue..."

Islander leaned over with a sneer into the cheekbone of the male. "I can't hear you, dude. Could it be that your nose's all stopped up with some flowing red substitute? I hope it doesn't leak and test for an illegal substance, bro. Now, let me and you talk in a set of slo-mo words for me to understand. You are the drug pusher, a poor underprivileged boy here. We are looking for the drug dealer. It is the bigger man between your eyeballs. Just finger and point in the general direction, I'll take it from there."

The male continued to hold his nose with a sissy whine, "This be illegal, bro!"

Lexington stared at the drug pusher with a smile, "Geez! It is another redneck that can't use proper English verbs."

Islander pulled back and slammed the back spine of the drug pusher into the garage dumpster for a second time, leaning over into the sweaty cheekbone with a sneer. "Understand me, man! I don't wanna be here. I got a date with a hot chick with a set of big tits and a fine ass. So, I'd rather be fucking on her, then you fucking on me. Do you ear burn me here, dude?"

Lexington frowned with confusion, "Ear burn?"

"A new FDA term, do you like it, Lex?" Islander smiled. Lexington shook her curls with a sour frown. Islander yelled. "Aqui, Lester!"

The dog flared his nostrils and targeted both eyeballs on the hand of Islander. Islander was holding onto the penis of the drug pusher through a pair of designer trousers.

The male sneered. "What...you say, bro?"

Islander chuckled. "The language is called Spanish, dude. Lester here speaks in a foreign tongue. Well, he listens in a foreign language. I told him to eyeball my hand."

The male looked down with a worried brow to see the fingers of Islander, fucking with his balls through the new pair of designer trousers with a gasp and a sissy whine, "Ya sick bastard."

Islander chuckled. "Thank you kindly. Now, do me? Before, I do you a kinder favor and give you up to the drug dealer? That's all we want to know."

The male quivered. "Not me..."

Lexington stared at the face of the drug pusher with a sour frown. "Where is the drug dealer located, sir?"

"The German shepherd breeds come in a variety of colors. The most popular is the tan and black colors with a black mask and a set of black body markings which is called a saddle. Lester here is a blanket, a rare color of all blue which is considered to possess serious faults like lack of hearing..."

"It deaf..."

Islander shook a skull with a smile, "Naw, man. Shepherds possess a set of both excellent ears and eyeballs. Escuchar, Lester!" The dog shifted both eyeballs directly up to see the side eye socket of his master Islander and waited for the next dog command. He smiled. "The bite of a German shepherd carries a force of 238 pounds in its teeth compared to 86 pounds in your yellow toothies. Do you comprehend that stat, man?" He turned and smiled at the dog, "Qui pasa, Lester." Lester softly barked from the Spanish greeting. Qui pasa meant 'what is happening.' Islander turned back and leaned down the face of the drug pusher with a smile. "Shepherds are bred for their high IQs and learn a simple task after only five times and obey the first command ninety-five percent of the time, because of their ability to work regardless of how loud you scream, man. Ataque, Lester!" The Spanish word ataque meant 'to attack.'

The other learned dog commands for Lester included the following Spanish words. Stay was 'quedarse.' 'Cesar' meant to stop. 'Matar' meant to kill. 'Sento' was to sit.

The medium-sized Doberman pinscher raced ahead with muscular speed looking like an elegant lightning black streak that ran across the green grass with a docked tail and a pair of cropped ears. It leaped into the air and viciously attacked Lester.

A Doberman pinscher was a smart, alert, and loyal companion towards a loving owner, especially within the protection space as a nasty guard dog. This one appeared to have received a hand signal for the attack command from its drug pusher owner. A sufficient size at twenty-seven inches tall and eighty pounds of lean muscle coupled with an optimal combination of strength, endurance and swiftness.

Lester was not particularly impressed, since he was ninety-five pounds at twenty-six inches in height with a set of scissor-like teeth. Plus, Lester possessed strength, speed, and devotion of loyalty to protect Islander from any and all evil deadly encounters.

The Doberman pinscher was a combination of four dog breeds, crossing the Greyhound, the Manchester terrier, the Rottweiler, and the German shepherd gene pool to create the famous breed.

Islander shoved the drug pusher back into the garage receptacle with a sneer and side stepped over to guard Lexington for any danger. Then the three adults stood and watched the two dogs fight.

Islander shouted with a chuckle at the dog fight, "Don't beat your cousin up too badly, Lester."

Lester only stopped his death act when Islander issued the Spanish word 'cesar' and not a different scream, shout, or slang word thanks to the shepherd's devoted obedience as a badass breed.

The doberman aimed for the neck of Lester. The domed skull of the shepherd twisted to the side and blocked the challenge of other set of sharp teeth, ramming the bone skull into the side of the Doberman's body. The doberman flung away from Lester into the air and landed down with a soft thud onto the grass.

The shepherd charged ahead with a snarl of scissor-like teeth, sliding into the fallen beast, capturing the hind leg of the grounded doberman, missing and reached over, grabbing the front paw of the doberman. Lester jerked the arm into the air inside the scissor-like teeth.

The poor Doberman splashed its red blood like water from the missing paw and over the green grass.

With a set of powerful jaws, the shepherd leaned down and torn into a big chuck of black colored skin on the top of the beautiful forehead of the doberman at one of the two cropped ear points, pitching the soft skin onto the grass also. Then the shepherd leaned down and attacked the left knee joint, chewing with the scissor-like teeth through the wrist bone of the poor doberman.

For Lester's finale, the shepherd leaned down and grabbed the abdomen, tossing the entire body of the doberman up into the air.

The poor doberman twisted side to side in the air and landed back down on its two out of four broken limbs.

Then the shepherd punctures the upper arm, separating it from the chest cavity.

The doberman breathed its last breath in a puddle of red blood over the green grass. The owner of the doberman turned with a gasp of fear, running away from Islander and Lexington in panic and fear.

Like a bolt of black lightning, Lester spun around and ran ahead, chasing down the owner of the doberman, reaching out and nipped, tearing at the heel of the designer shoe. The drug pusher tripped with one floored foot onto the solid dirt and somersaulted into the air, flinging both arms at nothing, landing on a back spine with a sweaty face. Lester pounced onto the chest cavity of the male with a growl and a mouth drool.

"Quedarse, Lester!" Islander turned and ran behind the dog, pulling out and aimed the gun into the bloody nose of the drug pusher and stopped, standing over the body of the grounded drug pusher with a sneer. "You are under arrest for assaulting my vicious pet along with some other minor charges probably like possessing some vile pills which we will find after searching your place."

"I'll take it from here, Is. Thanks, Lester." Lexington slowly moved ahead and pulled out the search warrant, stopping and stood over the male, leaning down and held the paper over his eyeballs. Then she stood upright and spun around with a stern face, moving towards the parked van of the drug pusher, stopping and smashed the side window inside the parking lot while performing her paid Federal Drug Administration job. She opened the door and entered the interior of the van, finding the illegal stash of drugs. He had provided some of the drugs to the children around the street corner at the local elementary school.

A second van of FDA agents arrived at the dog park, shuffling from the transport and moved to Islands, handcuffing and dragging the drug pusher into the van. Then the van left the dog park and drove back to one of the many local prison cells that was housed inside the FDA headquarters building for arrest and legal law processing.

Islander kneeled and wrapped both hands around Lester with a stern face, assessing the medical condition after the one-side dog fight with a smile. "No bruises! No fang marks! No worry, boy!" Lester reached up and licked the face of his master Islander with happiness, wiggling a tail. He smiled with a nod. "Good boy, Lester. Let's go and help Lex."

They stood from the ground and turned, trotting towards the van of the drug pusher to finish the FDA assignment.

12:03 pm

FDA Office (downtown Birmingham)

Front entrance setting

Very hot temperature with bright sunshine

The assignment at the dog park was a success. Islander drove Lester and Lexington back to the office to finish the processing.

On the front steps, Lexington exited the entrance doors and stopped, reading the mobile telephone that listed a new FDA assignment, slowly climbing down the steps, exiting from the FDA building into the bright sunshine.

Islander exited the car and stopped, placing a pair of new aviator sunglasses over a pair of hazel eyeballs with a smile of happiness from the morning accomplishments, "Lunchtime! I want...we want..." He looked over behind a collar bone with a frown. "Where the hell's Lester?"

Lexington continued to climb down the steps and read the mobile telephone with a smile. "That time of the month."

Islander ran down after her and moved beside her with a confused brow. "Lester is a he, not a her."

She stomped down the last step with a smile. "Not that time of the month, Is. It is time for his physical and mental check after a violent engagement from his deadly FDA assignment. You know that, Is."

He nods with a smile, "O yeah! I'm hungry always. Let's go..."

"No time," she shook her curls and moved towards his new sports car.

Islander liked to drive, so she could get seasick. When she drove, Islander complained about everything which was more annoying than the seasick car racing. He dashed ahead and stopped, opening the passenger door for her like a southern gentleman. She slid down into the seat and continued to read the mobile telephone with the latest information on the new FDA assignment.

Lex was the senior agent and the boss. Islander was the junior agent and the driver. She issued the orders. He fulfilled them with his pal Lester, making a nice trio of agents for the US Federal Drug Administration (FDA) Agency.

He slammed the door and ran around the rear bumper of the car with a smile, opening the door, sliding down into the driver's seat. He leaned forward and caressed the steering column with a smile. "Yeah, always time to eat and go or go and eat," he started the engine with a chuckle and smoothly pulled out of the parking lot of FDA building onto the roadway, steering away from the downtown city streets without asking permission.

Lexington pointed the road with a stern face. "Swing around to the right, at the next traffic light..."

He drove with a smile, "Naw. Food wants me and me wants food. After the noon sun, time for food," he shifted into second gear, speeding and ran the traffic light of red at the busy intersection with a chuckle, accelerating uphill before slapping the stick into neutral, coasting downhill to the next intersection like a Bama redneck.

She turned and frowned into his nose profile. "I will arrest you for riskless driving, Is. Turn the car around and go..."

"This is why I drive my car."

"I'm boss," she frowned with fury.

"On paper," he slammed the brakes, after running the second traffic light of red and jerked the wheel to the right, parking inside a slanted slot at the local drive-in fast food joint, turning with a smile to see the hair roots of Lexington. "What do you want for lunch, Lex?" he

She tapped out a text on the mobile telephone. "No thank you! I'm not hungry."

He reached out and pressed the button on the box with a smile, "Two dogs with everything, including extra onions, some large fries, and a giant chocolate milk shake with an order of three oatmeal cookies. Want something, Lex?" He turned and smiles at Lexington.

She continued to stare down at her mobile telephone with a stern face, "A bottle of water."

He frowned with annoyance, "One bottled water, that's it," he turned and reached out, pressing the button on the order box for a second time, "A three dog with only mustard and ketchup, a bottle of water, and a fourth oatmeal cookie. That's it. Thanks."

Lexington looked up to see his nose profile and pointed down at the mobile telephone with a stern face. "Remember? After the series of deadly tornadoes came and went in April a few years ago, some of the victims could not be identified due to damaged body parts beyond recognition."

He pulled out the wallet and fiddled with the bills for payment of the lunch with a stern face, "Yeah. Lex, I ordered you almost naked hot dog, a bottle of water, and a cookie. And I expect you to consume all the items as my good friend. And I hope you're not one of your crazy loco diets, again. You need protein for bones, carbs for energy..."

She frowned with annoyance. "I'm not on a diet. I'm not hungry at the moment. I'll keep all the food items for later, this afternoon. Thanks for being my good friend, Is," smiling.

He chuckled. "She doesn't drink beer, only wine. I don't like wine, only beer. There's a great country song that goes something, like this. I like girls that drink yellow beer, not that red piss that tastes like dog shit in that pretty liquid form," he turned with a chuckle to see her. "I liked meeting Rachel. But, we ain't got no chemistry, as they say. I like the good old country girls like you," winking.

She returned back to see the mobile telephone. "I'm not your type, Is. I'll contact some more of my felony girlfriends," she turned and winked at him. "How's that, slick?"

The female food server appeared and stood by Islander with a smile, shoving the tray into the open window of the sports car, "Twenty-six dollars and fourteen cents, sir."

Islander turned and winked at the pretty waitress, sliding forty dollars for the lunch tab and a top for her nice big tits. "Thanks, cutie! Do you have a cell phone with your personal mobile telephone for me, honey?"

01:23 pm

FDA Laboratory Building

Downtown Birmingham

Very hot temperatures with parted clouds of sunshine

The lunch meal was finished without spilling mustard inside the good-smelling interior of his new car. Islander dropped by the office and collected Lester, who had passed the medical inspection and had been washed and bathed of the dead dog's blood. The three slowly drove around the downtown city streets towards the next FDA assignment.

Inside the passenger seat, Lexington looked ahead with a smile. "Drive us south."

Islander drove with a smile. "What's south of our building? Do you know, Lester?" Lester lounged inside the rear bench seat, closing both eyelids for a fast nap, readying for the next dog fight.

"The civic center has a car show of old muscle automobiles. Ah! Thanks for paying the expensive entrance tickets into the car show, Lex. We are finished with our work day..."

"You're getting a little warmer, so drive a little more southeast."

He steered the car more southeast with a puzzled brow. "What is southeast of our building? The expressway, it leads east to Georgia or west to Mississippi. Are we going for a run of money lottery tickets at the Georgia line? I read the lottery jackpot is up to forty million dollars. I could really use forty million..."

"You're getting hotter, so drive a little more south."

"What is a little more south than southeast, than south of our building? I give up."

The tall and wide building appeared within the middle of a set of secured and armed gates.

He frowned with disgust. "The FBI medical biological laboratory, why are we here again?"

"Shut it, Is."

Building gate setting

He stopped the car and dropped down the window, reaching out and presented his FDA badge. The FBI gate guard nodded in silence. The gate panel rose upright for entrance. Islander drove forward with a smile into an empty parking slot which was near the front door for welcomed visitors, admiring the brown brick like the rest of the brown brick government owned buildings in Birmingham Alabama. "O. It's the horror movie hour. I like watching scary movies with a bag of buttered popcorn, two cold bottles of beer, and a warm girly body." He stopped the vehicle and parked inside the spot with a chuckle.

She reached over and cracked the door with a smile. "Sorry. No beer but plenty of horror," Lexington slid out the car and stood upright, moving ahead towards the entrance doors.

02:04 pm

FBI Medical Isolation Laboratory

Interior laboratory setting

Man-made cold temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Lexington stopped and reached out, opening and held the door for Islander and Lester, since they were partners with equal respect and equal professionalism. Islander strutted inside with a smile. Lester moved beside his master Island and wiggled the tail.

They automatically turned the wall corner to the right.

Lexington entered the lobby and followed behind the tails of Lester and Island, stopping and stood in front of the closed door. Inside the room, there were rows of dead bodies. She gagged with a cough of bile, "Good grief!"

Islander leaned down into the window with a smile to see the FBI forensic expert. He stood from the table and approached the door, wearing a set of yellow personal protection gear over a body. Islander turned with a chuckle to see her nose profile. She displayed a face of neon puke green on both her cheekbones. He smiled. "Lex, are you sick or green or the wicked bitch of the west?" The enclosed room behind the locked and sealed door was measured in auditorium-sized like banquet space, without a happy party, holding a set of four tables which were covered in dead human body parts. Islander could smell the odor which was worse than a freshly dumped cow turd between the cracks of the closed double doors.

The closed door parted and opened wide, exposing the enclosed room.

Wilbur, an FBI special agent stood inside the archway without a face mask with a smile.

Lexington reached up and grabbed the mouth and the nose, gagging then coughing then wheezing. She pivoted away from the open door and hauled her ass down the hallway and away from all the dead bodies on top of the table inside the sterile laboratory room. Islander laughed with a wink at Wilbur.

Wilbur squatted down reached out, patting the dog with a smile. "Hey, Is and Lester. What's up her ass?" He stood upright with a confused brow and stared at her ass down the long hallway.

Islander extended a handshake to Wilbur with a smile and a laugh. "Green shit coming from her esophagus, not her butthole. Good mourning, Wilbur!"

Wilbur shook the hand with a chuckle, "Good mourning to you, too, Is! Welcome to my private creep show. Ha, ha. And please remember? Cover your entire biological body with the baby chick yellow disposable protection equipment, before I lose my great paying job," he back stepped from the archway and spun around with a smile.

Islander and Lester shuffled ahead into the laboratory auditorium towards the side wall. The wall contained embedded shelving of numerous sets of disposable yellow colored protection equipment which was required to examine a dead victim inside the FBI isolation medical laboratory.

He stopped and grabbed a set of PPE equipment, dropping down to the floor and wrapped, tying a set of sissy bows of yellow paper shoe booties around the four paws of Lester, since he did not want Lester to catch any bugs. His dog pads were sensitive to germs and cuts with nasty bacteria. The interior room temperature hovered around fifty degrees Fahrenheit which stopped the growth of any dangerous bacteria on both live folks and dead people, preventing any type of contamination, but the second and third preparedness did not hurt. Islander torn and placed half body gown around the neck of Lester and as it barely touched the cold tile floor. Then Islander snapped a small elastic cap on the top of the skull and two pointy ears of Lester. Lester growled. Islander and Wilbur chuckled.

Islander stood upright and reached out, grabbing and dressed the PPE gear over the sports jacket, sliding a paper skull cap on top of his baseball cap, placing a pair of gloves over the hands.

Wilbur moved ahead and stopped, standing in front of the first table with a stern face. "Allow me the honor of your personal tour, Is. Please note this ancient banquet room. It is has transformed into one of the newest mortuary storage spaces, measuring 225 feet in length by 201 feet wide and holds four 150 feet long table. Let's start on table A. Then we move around to tables which are named B, C, and D."

Each table was an ancient conference room piece of furniture without a chair made of one and one-fourth inches of fake wood underneath a set of metal T-shaped legs. The top was forty-eight inches wide, twenty-nine inches high, and ninety-six inches long, holding a set of cut up human body parts inside a transparent individual sealed container with a black rubber lid. The container appeared like packaged pink meat for sale by the food market.

His mobile telephone sung a country song. Islander whipped out the telephone and swished the tiny screen without checking the telephone number, cramming it into an eardrum with a smile, staring down at the numerous body parts, "Lex."

He paused and listened to her one-side conversation through the telephone without repeating it to Wilbur.

"Shore thing." Islander reached out and held the mobile telephone in the air with a shout. The mobile telephone captured his words for her to hear. "Lex can't join us, since she's puking up her guts out all over her well-endowed tits as it splashes down into the nicely clean bathroom sink. But she wants to listen to the hot gossip too. Go, Wilbur!"

Wilbur pointed the first container of human body parts with a stern face. "This, my old friends, is a gigantic jigsaw puzzle with thousands of ugly fugly parts and puzzling cuts, not for fun, by all the FBI geeks to figure out, including me. I believe that we have acquired some animals, people, and fine art pieces..."

Islander whipped the telephone back to an eardrum and listened to Lex, turning with a wink to see Wilbur. "That's not a nice comment to say about Dr. Wilbur, Lex," he laughed with Wilbur and lifted, holding the mobile telephone into the air, staring at each container and Wilbur, exhaling with a sour frown. "For me, finding a dead body is always a very traumatic experience, but I tell you right here inside this room that I'm beyond traumatized here. What in the universe have you inherited, Wilbur?"

Wilbur pointed at the first container, where a pink-tinted foot was still attached to the ankle. The ankle was still attached to the shin, ending at the missing kneecap.

Lester leaped up and sat his front paws on the edge table, sniffing the container and the table surface in silence.

Wilbur said. "After the tornado strike a few years ago during the heavy rains, numerous individual body parts were pulled out from numerous wreckage points throughout the devastated townships in Alabama. I mean everywhere. The body parts came out of damaged buildings, destroyed houses, pond lakes, mud puddles, flattened woodlands, and other places throughout the affected geographical areas. The sliced bodies had been pieced and puzzled together inside a pasture field, a school gym floor, and the floor of the fire fighter stations pretty much everywhere for both identification and recovery.

"After all was said and done which was not a very good ending, many dead lives and deadlier numerous body parts, not bodies ended up here with us inside the FBI forensic laboratory, since we're the greatest. We are great at identifying any missing piece of a found body part, sometimes. What we got here is a collection of particular body parts! Please, remember that word, particular. The particular body parts have never found with the whole body and the body part has never been identified to the person.

"The particular body parts have been stored here for continuously investigation, which has been on-going for over four years. After death, little things within the human shell are still alive. For example, the skin cell can be harvested up to twenty hour hours after death to determine the probable cause of death, identifying how long dead, and what type of weapon. This first container holds obviously a complete human foot which is attached to the ankle, going all the up with the missing knee.

"These body parts came into our laboratory like a set of frozen pieces of meat. I remembered that very well. When a single body part or its whole body piece is lifted out of the ground, science kicks in turning the muscles into a limp of meaty ground chuck within any type of climate conditions from humid to rain to hot sun. Except these body parts, I made the decision to store them inside individual containers, because each limb did not match any other limb..."

Islander gasped. "Each limb does not match any other limbs inside any other container. Is that correct? So how many bodies are represented here?"

"The body parts are nothing more than an individual meat ball without the spaghetti sauce. There is a skull bone here, a foot over there. Unfortunately, these are scattered body parts nothing but dead, not alive."

Islander frowned. "I'm not trying to do your job. What did the stinky contents of stomach tattle to the lab boys and girls?"

Wilbur shook the skull cap of yellow. "No stomach. I have lived around these tables for 2,000 out of 3,000 worked productive hours. I did not, cannot, and could not find a stomach anywhere inside this jigsaw puzzle mess."

"Whoa!" Islander whipped down and listened on the phone to Lex and then translated to Wilbur. "Lex asks. What did you do with the larvae that fed and grew on each body part that was older than three months which had preserved the entomological data at the time of discovery?"

Wilbur shook the skull cap of yellow. "No bug sightings! More mysteriously, if the grave was shallow underneath the dirt, then the bugs would have done me a bigger favor and munch on everything but the hard calcium bones. There were not any clothing items attached to the body parts either, since all synthetic fiber clothes would last a very long time. If the numerous body parts had formed into a whole dead person, the skeleton would be fully dressed."

Islander reached out and patted on the skull cap of Lester, staring at the containers. "Weird."

Wilbur nodded with a stern face, "Now, this is my new lecture. Please listen closely! Because, I do test with my lecture. In the human decay process, it starts when the cells of the dead body are destroyed through their own digestive enzymes. The enzymes are released into nutrients by live cells, not the dead cells which can duplicate into nothing but the color of blue. This whole process is called autolysis. During autolysis, liquid is created that fills between the layers of skin and makes the skin peel off which becomes food for the buggies. It is during this stage. The tiny black flies start to lay eggs inside the opening edges of the decomposing dead body. The openings are represented by the eyeballs, the nose holes, the mouth, the eardrums, any cracked bloody wounds, and other orifices. The eggs hatch into larvae. Then, the little maggots of blow flies burrow under the skin and then eat the body literally from head to toes."

"Okay. By that time, there would be no stomach and no digestive enzymes." Islander nodded.

Wilbur grinned. "Excellent conclusion, Is! The second stage of decomposition is bloating. When a bacterium in the gut starts to breakdown the tissues of the body, it turns into gas which accumulates inside the intestines."

Islander shook the skull cap of yellow. "There are no intestines either."

"The small and large intestines are both non-present or not found or missing or absent, because of the decomposition thing happening within the second week of the composed body. The final stage of the human decay process is putrefaction which is the longest stage, where the digestive organ, the brain, and the lungs disintegrate."

Islander exhaled. "Wait a minute! I know under any normal conditions of putrefaction that the organs including stomach are unidentifiable after three weeks. And the muscles can be eaten by bacteria or devoured by animals. Thus, all that is left of the delicate human remain is the skeleton."

"This is a complete picture of putrefaction. So, all the missing body parts of the whole body had missed the first week of the enzyme rush and then ditched the bloating process and then failed the putrefaction..."

Islander exhaled. "Huh! This is giving us absolutely nothing to investigate."

"Ah! The body parts still possess some skin tissue. This is a very good solid lead, probably unexplained and mysteriously, to boot," Wilbur reached out and grabbed the first container with a smile.

Islander shook a skull cap of yellow. "Don't talk like a little girl, to boot!"

Wilbur leaned over and held the sealed container near the face of Islander. "What do you see, Is?"

Islander turned and stared at the individual human body part. "I do not see any signs of hypothermia, gangrene, or frost bite."

"Excellent, Is," Wilbur leaned down and placed the container back on top of the hard surface. "The first sign of frost bite is distinguished by a yellowish-white color around the limb that remains elastic both ply and free. The second degree of frost bite occurs when the thawing process takes place, showing a set of red painful sensitive blisters over the limbs. In the three degree of frost bite, ice will appear on the limb and then swell proportionately. As the thawing continues, the swelling discolors the tissue, thus destroying it. The outer skin will become smelly black and fall right off the bone, an indication of gangrene. You can see clearly that the outer skin is candy colored pink like a puppy's belly and soft. Are you interested in touching the body part?" Islander shook his cap. Wilbur said. "My own working medical theory is taken. Okay, it is stolen from a home grown tale about the backwoods medicine of the Alaska Eskimos. The Eskimos cover any open wound with both earth and clay mixed with lots of live worms, who will suck out the pus from the gangrene limb thus leaving it into a clean pink flesh wound."

Islander frowned. "And your other working medical theory, Dr. Wilbur?"

He nodded. "Have you ever skinned a deer?"

Islander nodded, "Plenty of times."

"How about skinning a deer left out in sub-zero temps?"

Islander frowned. "Naw."

"I bet that I can field dress a deer in forty-eight minutes. I place the deer on top of a tractor lift, chop off the head, cut open the belly and then stand back. The guts fall out onto the red clay, frozen as hard as a rock."

Islander exhaled, "Maybe?"

"The point, when you skin a deer, the animal is warm. You field dress the guts and put the deer's hide into a garbage bag and freeze it. Correct?" Islander nodded in silence. Wilbur said. "The field dressed deer will keep inside a mechanic working freezer for several years. If you are going to remove the hair, making a coat of buckskin, then you cover the flesh side of the hide with salt, roll it up, put into a garbage bag, and it'll last a year, before dressing."

"Yeah," Islander nodded.

"The butchering process of a frozen deer is easy with a saw blade about twelve inches, since the knife does not score the hide. Two, the meat is not gushy, remaining stable while slicing. Three, the meat never warms up, so you can package the sub-degreed meat and slap it right into the deep freeze inside your home freezer."

Islander gasped, "Holy shit, Wilbur! Are you thinking that a person froze the body and then sliced out the organs like field dressing a frozen deer? Man, that's one wild-ass working theory."

Wilbur pointed to the second container with a severed elbow. "A joint is the area, where two bones meet and match that provides a swinging motion on the human body. A type of joint inside the human body includes a ball and socket of the elbow or the hip. When I examine the sliced up elbow joint, I saw lots of pink skin. This is healthy pink skin. When I examined the human thorax or rib cage, it had been ripped literally into two parts. A rib fracture is a break in one or more of the bones, making up the rib cage between one and twelve bones. The first rib is rarely fractured, because of its protected position behind the collarbone. Fractures of the second ribs are due to head and facial injuries. The middle ribs are commonly fractured from direct blows of crushing injuries. The most common fractured ribs are between the seventh and tenth. Some broken ribs occur from indirect trauma of sports which includes rowing and golfing or a consequence of sickness, including coughing and diseases, such like, cancer and infections."

Islander said, "Got it."

Wilbur shook the skull cap of yellow. "No. You have only heard my medical lecture. I have more to show you."

Islander exhaled. "You have more to show me. Is that a rhetorical question, Dr. Wilbur?"

Wilbur back stepped from the first table and scooted around, moving towards the second table, whipping off the dark blanket. There were a set of three naked child males. Each body was a set of segmented body parts that had been sawed and then separated from each whole body of the child. The head was severed away from the shoulder joint, the elbow joint, the wrist joint, and each finger bone. The rib cage was broken into two parts with a set of separated ribs. The waist was separated from the torso. Each hip was separated from the leg. The leg was sliced at the kneecap, ankles, and toe bones.

Wilbur had exhibited each whole body and placed the numerous severed body parts in the proper order like a jigsaw puzzle, completing the picture of a thinly sawed up young boy.

Islander back stepped with a gag and a cough from the gruesome scene and turned the face mask towards the wall.

Wilbur said with a nod. "This is the reason for my telephone call into the FDA office, Is. The three bodies are not heavily decomposed but are separated into numerous body parts. I have acted like Dr. Frankenstein, re-creating each boy and his severed body parts in a bottle. Yet, I know that this is very important for you to see and to hear..."

Islander exhaled with a huff of worry and wiped the heated sweat from a forehead with a soft gag of mouth drool. "Did I mention that seeing a dead body is traumatic but this...this?"

Wilbur said with a nod, "Yeah! I gagged too at first. Each young boy is between eight and ten years of age. I'd like to express that I have lots of information to share about these three bodies. First, they were found by a pack of stray starving dogs behind an apartment building in a low income part of Birmingham. One of the neighbors inside the apartment complex heard the dogs fighting over the meat of the dead child. They called the police who came and shot each rabid dog, uncovering the three naked body parts of children. They are not brothers either. Based on my medical examination, they are not blood relatives..."

Islander turned with a sour frown and a sigh to see the three bodies. "A serial murderer of children, this person is sick. I'm catching this freak and beating the shit out of his face first, before I turn him over to police."

Wilbur nodded with a grin. "I agree with your new mission. Second, each child did not die on the present condition of the physical body. Each body has been cut up by a laser beam. Lasers can kill a human with the right degree of energy firepower. I want you to closely examine the rib cage. Can you see a yellowish seam appearing like a sewing stitch?" Islander stared at the body part in silence. Wilbur said. "There are twenty-four ribs in the human body. The first seven sets of the ribs are known as true ribs which are directly attached to the sternum through cartilage. A person has literally ripped the fourth and fifth ribs out from the chest cavity, exposing the thoracic diaphragm which usually protects the twin lungs."

"The bodies don't have a set of lungs either."

Wilbur nodded. "The three boys are missing the major organs like the numerous body parts that are located inside my collection of pink tinted containers. Each boy died of chronic lung disease, such as, asthma."

Islander frowned. "How can you diagnose asthma? Even I have enough medical knowledge that you need a whole lung or a piece of a lung to run a spirometry testing of the lung pulmonary function."

Wilbur said. "The lungs along with the major organs of heart, kidney, spleen, intestines and others are missing on each body also. Yes, after my meta-analysis of the remaining intact body parts, I examined the throat and the sinus passages. The throat appears red, raw, and severely irritated with signs of an acute case of bronchospasm, coming from a persistence cough. To add to the mystery, these three boys didn't die of natural causes or the laser slashes. I mean you do not die of asthma per say. You die of complications associated with asthma symptoms like shortness of breath which can be treated in an emergency setting of any hospital..."

"I don't understand you, Wilbur. If these boys didn't die of the laser slashes, asthma coughs, or old age, then what disease or aliment?"

Wilbur said. "I will add more to the medical mystery," he leaned over the first body and pointed down at the body part. "When I examined both the eye sockets, since the corneas were missing, I saw a yellowish seam that surrounded the bone. This is really weird, Is. I can't explain or even theorize. There is a circle of yellowish-white color around each eye socket. I thought it was from the careful slicing out the cornea from the laser beam. Then I realized that this was the first sign of frost bite a yellowish-white color too. When a body part like an eye or a hand makes contact with the cyro-freezing nitro gas, it forms frostbite on the limb. I got curious then opened up the chest of each boy. I found the same ring of yellow but three times. Both the cornea and lung tissues possess three set of different yellow rings."

"Three rings?"

Wilbur leaned down into the eye socket and picked up, pointing down with a scalpel at the body part. "There is a little tiny faint yellow circle, representing freezing the corneas, the first time. There is a little tiny second faint yellow ring, slicing with a laser, not damaging the cornea, the second time. And there is a small bright third yellow circle, where the cornea was re-frozen and then removed."

"What in tarnation for, Wilbur? Why remove the cornea by freezing and slicing and then add the same cornea back into the eye socket and then re-freeze and slice out?"

Wilbur exhaled. "You are making an assumption that it is the same cornea of the same boy replanted into the same eye socket..."

Islander exhaled. "And you are not making any sense, Wilbur."

He said. "Research scientists have been studying animals for any type of future cryo-freezing process of numerous human organs for life saving human transplants. So far, in the medical science field, the only body parts being frozen are sperm cells and eye corneas. These children are relatively healthy other than a minor bout of coughing spasm from asthma which is treatable by modern medicine standards. However, a person had dunked all these body limbs into a pot of liquid nitrogen for about forty seconds, freezing the outer skin solid for any type of surgery."

"Surgery?"

"Cryosurgery uses cryogenic techniques in wart removal and corneal transplants."

Islander frowned. "So these three little boys were inside a cryosurgery clinic. Where's one located in here Birmingham? There isn't one here in the entire state of Alabama. Are those boys from Alabama?"

Wilbur nodded. "I don't know the answer to your many questions, Is. However, there are research companies here within the other US States that froze human tissue for research like the pituitary glands, placenta from moms, prostate spinal cord, spleen, and eye skin, and then ship the samples all over the world for human organ transplantation with an expensive price tag. This crude procedure performed on the three boys is really no different, just barbaric on small children by a madman, Is."

Islander nodded, "This is excellent work, Wilbur."

He says. "In past medical history, anatomy schools began to steal bodies out from graveyards for medical dissection as far back as the year 1818 within the US. By the year 1828, anatomists were paying greedy folks to dig up their own kin and other people's kin for money. The World History books documented that about 312 bodies were sold for gold. The poor countries folks were the most vulnerable, lacking any decent coffins and easy prey for the first generation body snatchers. The most famous cadaver sale was at Burke and Hare Boardinghouse for bodies, sorry, I meant boys. The owners together murdered sixteen boys by asphyxiation, but the thieves didn't get away with their vile profits. They were arrested, found guilty, hanged, and publicly dissected."

Islander stared at the three dead young boys with a stern face. "You should pen demon tales, Wilbur. Why is your story important here? The vile person is a murderer, using a very unique killing procedure of cryo-surgery and laser slicing."

Wilbur shook the skull cap with a stern face, staring at each dead boy, "No, I have come to a different conclusion. This is a clear case of body snatching for profiting with a sideline of murder and torture."

Islander shook the skull cap with a confused brow, "Body snatching for what, Wilbur?"

"Organs. I do not tease here but insist. This is some type of body part snatching. The thief is harvesting healthy organs including the stomach, liver, corneas, kidneys, and both small and large intestines for money and profit."

Islander listened to Lex on his mobile telephone with a nod, saying to Wilbur. "Your demon tale has become FDA jurisdiction and Lex agrees with me. Anymore more clues for us to use in our investigation, Wilbur?"

Wilbur stared at each dead boy with a nod. "Do you see the other clue, Is?"

Islander scanned each body with a stern face and a nod, "I missed it with the first round of nausea. All three boys are extremely obese."

Wilbur nodded. "Yes, very good observation, Is. Overweight is an excessive amount of fat accumulation. In a small child, it does present a huge risk to their present health. The standard measure of body mass index or BMI for an overweight person is twenty-five. The obesity BMI is thirty or more. The three boys are thirty more or less, falling deeply into the obesity category. When a child or an adult carries extra poundage of fat, the heart, lungs, and other organs must do extra workouts to keep their body breathing and functioning. An obese body leads to cardiovascular disease, mainly heart disease and stroke, type two diabetes, musculoskeletal disorders and cancers like breast and colon. I would like to emphasize an obsess condition causes both premature death and substantial disability. I do not have any medical evidence, but I believe these particular children were selected or kidnapped for their overweight features. During a regular autopsy, the coroner would have concluded that the child was extremely obese which would have caused a heart attack, resulting in a death. I do not believe that to be the medical or legal case. These children were selected for their bad medical conditions and then were experimented upon by some type of madman for some vile reason. The reason is body part snatching.

"I would start questioning all and any laser clinics around the Birmingham metro city limits. To slice body parts with a laser, you need special equipment and a special room, without alerting the law authorities and crazy UFO sightseeing fans. A toy with the words, Burn Hospital, is etched onto the metal, which is nickname for Birmingham Hospital. Each body possessed a single toy. Hospitals like to advertise for both profit and prestige, since the US Federal Government passed legislature in the 1980s.

"My dad remembered when a hospital saved a person's life for honor, not money. And I really hate viewing all local individual attorney television programs during my evening's entertainment. People are so ignorant. They do not realize how much an attorney lies on and off the courtroom stage. Back to the boys, this toy is a leading start. I do not have any more answers to my numerous questions. But I can say for certain that the three boys were murdered and then mutilated. The FBI is following up with the blood relatives. My understanding, the puzzle parts are scattered all over the place with the FDA, the FBI, the NSA, and the local police department over this usually, highly, really creepy situation. Good luck, Is! Please, run back and tattle to me any and all findings." Wilbur turned with a nod inside the face mask to Islander.

Islander turned and nodded with a stern face to Wilbur. "I know someone that's very knowledgeable about lasers at Burn Hospital," he extended a gloved hand and shook the gloved hand of Wilbur, ending the data-gathering meeting and turned with a stern face, exiting out the laboratory room.

Islander and Lester met up with Lexington. Islander entered the car and drove Lexington back to the FDA office to inform the supervisor.

Islander and Lester left the FDA building for a new trip.

03:04 pm

Birmingham Hospital location

(five miles, south, from FBI laboratory)

Radiation therapy department

Reception lobby setting

Man-made cold temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Lester was on the hunt as he zigzagged through the concrete jungle of chrome table legs and fabric covered chairs. His long snout sniffed the air and then paused at dead center on a little girl, who wore a pretty colored silk scarf around a naked skull.

"O gawd," Tatianna gasped and wiped away the sudden tears, holding back a sob.

"Tit, what's wrong?" Islander stepped closer, reaching over, and wrapped an arm around her tiny waist with a worried brow, staring at her cheekbone. They stood inside the open archway between the lobby reception and the hallway, leading back into the laser procedure treatment rooms for the oncology cancer patients.

He turned and frowned with puzzlement at Tatianna and then the child inside the lobby. The child had scooted down onto the floor, gently stoking the soft furry coat of Lester with a giggle and a grin. The dog reached down and placed a hairy skull inside her lap in a protection mode. Islander scanned the reception room that was filled with patients for a turn with the radiation treatment and turned to see the cheekbone of Tatianna with a puzzled brow.

Tatianna sobbed and slapped the chest of Islander with a sour frown of annoyance. "I have repeatedly asked you to stop insulting me with that nasty nickname, Is."

He smiled into the side of pretty face with a whisper. "You call me, Is. I oblige the honorable reversal with Tit for Tatianna."

Tatianna turned and frowned at Islander. "I use the first two letters of your name Islander for 'Is.' Then, you should use the first three letters of my name Tatianna to form the word, 'Tat.' You should call me, Tat, not that other nasty name."

He chuckled into her pretty face. "What's wrong with the little girl, attacking Lester?"

Tatianna turned and stared at the child, exhaling with a puff of sadness. "She is visiting her oncologist today for a checkup of her cancer remission. Based on Lester's reaction, her cancer has returned again. She doesn't have a chance in hell for a further good recovery. We had done everything for the little girl. A dog possesses 220 million smell-sensitive cells, the size of a pocket handkerchief when it is compared to the human smell, which is the equivalent of a postage stamp. Lester can sense an odor concentration nearly 100 million times lower than a human can sense and then it is analyzed at forty times greater inside his doggie brains than that of a human being."

Islander turned and stared at the little girl and Lester. The little girl smiled and patted his soft coat. Islander whistled in a high bird sounding tone.

Lester stood upright from the little girl and turned, scanning the room for his master. The whistle signaled for Lester to move around the room, scouting out any trouble. Lester turned and shuffled to the mother, holding her toddler.

The mother turned and smiled down at Lester, allowing the dog to sniff the toddler.

Tatianna said. "Dogs can sense diabetes and severe hypoglycemia in humans too. That toddler child inside his mother's hands has cancer too. Lester can smell the unique odor of bladder cancer cells inside her diapers from the urine." Lester turned and moved to the next child inside a new chair. Tatianna said. "Lester has pinpointed the lung cancer in Tara."

Lester turned and shuffled to the little boy, licking a pink tongue onto the naked leg of the child, making the boy giggle and wiggle inside his mother's arms. Tatianna exhaled. "The little boy has childhood osteosarcoma. When a bone tumor or a soft tissue tumor is cancerous, they are called sarcomas. The bone cancer affects closest to the knee or the proximal tibia, the lower leg bone near the knee. Lester dog licks in a way makes the child feel better, somehow and somewhere. I guess a miracle you could say. Medical and science experts aren't quite sure exactly how dogs do this. It might be that they are detecting subtle changes inside the body chemistry that humans cannot."

Lester turned and ran in a complete circle, softly barking the middle aged woman and stopped, reaching to nip at her finger tips with love.

Tatianna gasped, "Amazing! She has breast cancer. Lester can sense the odor by smelling her finger tips. You should call him back, before the troops get restless with his show."

"Aqui, Lester!" Islander said out loud. Lester turned and viewed his master, hearing the verbal command: Come. The dog turned and viewed the woman, barking a good bye, twirling in a half circle, running to Islander with a wagging tail and a drooling tongue. Islander squatted with a smile and a nod, scratching at the big pointy ears with a whisper, "Bueno, pretty boy!"

The Spanish word bueno was defined as 'good.'

Tatianna squatted down with a smile next to Lester. "He understands the Spanish language."

Islander shook a skull with a smile, "Naw. Lester understands the pretty musical sounds and pronunciation of the Spanish language within his doggie commands. When I speak the word, he understands what or what not to do."

Tatianna turned and whispered into his cheekbone, patting on the soft fur of Lester. "You didn't come to entertain the patients with Lester. You're here only for business. What do you need from me, Is?"

Islander leaned over and assisted her to stand with a smile and a whisper, "Yeah, you can read me like a worn pair of jeans. I'm interested in learning about lasers, everything."

She nodded with a smile and stood upright, spinning around, leading down the narrow empty hallway towards her private business office. "Let's go into my office for a discussion of lasers."

He stood upright and followed behind her back spine with Lester running ahead. Lester stopped and sniffed each open and closed door for any type of trouble.

03:24 pm

Office setting of Tatianna

Man-made cold temperatures with artificial light bulbs

A square room without a window was painted in dull beige. She entered through the open archway and moved ahead, sitting behind an office desk that was filled with a short stack of paper, a working computer monitor, and a keyboard. She reached over and shuffled some papers over to the side, dropping both arms on the empty spot, wearing a pair of blue surgical scrubs with a set of cute tiny black colored bears over the clothing and a pink cloth skull cap that hid her hair. She had a pair of blue colored eyes, a tone of pale tinted skin and covered up head of black long colored hair.

Islander followed the back spine of Tatianna into her office and moved ahead, occupying one of two office chairs in front of her desk. Lester entered the room, turning and sniffing the door frame first and moved sideways, staring his sniffing investigation of a new room. Islander smiled with a nod. "I find it kinda weird that you're a pharmacist inside the radiation department of a hospital and not hanging out an open window pane at pharmacy drug store like the others."

She smiled, "Not at all! I'm responsible for ordering the oncology drugs, as well as, setting, storing, and stocking all the oncology substances. So what's your interest in the Burn Hospital radiation department besides flirting with me?"

He smiled with a wink. "The FDA is interested in laser operations related to nitrogen gas storage."

She frowned, "Liquid nitrogen?"

"Do you keep tanks of liquid nitrogen here for the patients?"

She nodded. "Yes, I am the only one that handles the liquid nitrogen atmosphere..."

The tall and dark skinned male appeared and stood inside the archway, holding a briefcase in one hand, wearing a white laboratory coat over his designer business suit. He tossed a free hand into the air with fury at his employee, "Tatianna, who is that employee that owns a bright red tinted sport car with a set of black colored alloy wheels? He or she is occupying my private parking spot in front of my clinic."

Islander stood upright from the chair and spun around, extending a hand and a smile to the physician. "I do, sir. I'm Islander from the FDA."

The tall and dark skinned male turned and narrowed both eyelids at Islander without shaking the pre-offered hand with a growl. "Why are you here in my parking space at my clinic inside the Burn Hospital? And why is a smelly canine inside your office, Tatianna?"

Islander smiled. "My canine is doggie certified with all the area hospitals, specifically here at Birmingham Hospital to entertain at the children for fun on the different wards like inside the oncology..."

"That canine is not certified inside my radiation clinic."

Islander reached over and pulled out a set of FDA badges with a nod and a smile. "Lester is an employee of the FDA too. And the FDA division is interested in learning about laser equipment and operations..."

"The FDA should contact your employer the US Federal Government for all available information..."

"Sir, I'm working on a standard FDA investigation here in Birmingham. The local FDA office has a good relationship with Birmingham Hospital. I always..."

"...entered into one of the hospital departments without administration and legal authorization," the male moved ahead and occupied the second office chair without a smile to see his employee. "Tatianna, please rush my next oncology patient into a treatment room. While I address Mr. Islander's few questions, briefly and swiftly."

She stood upright from the chair with a nod in silence and exited her work office.

The male turned and frowned to Islander. "Mr. Islander, the term laser stands for Light Amplification by the Stimulated Emission of Radiation. A laser is a very powerful precise beam of light that is used instead of a sharp blade or a bloody scalpel as a modern scientist performs very carefully surgical work relating especially to cancer and tumors."

Islander sat down inside the first chair and pulled out, jolting down hand written notes inside the tiny notebook with a nod. "No blade, but light. I understand, sir."

"A laser beam treats the cancer cells of an infected patient on top of the skin surface and inside the lining of the affected organ or organs. A physician treats any internal cancerous condition of the patient, using a scope that can be inserted into a natural opening of the body or with a small incision, because the laser light reduces bleeding. The laser light is easily inserted without open surgery on the body which is always performed on an outpatient basis, offering faster and safer procedure for the cancer patient."

Islander looked up with a stern face to see the hallway and Tatianna. "Do you employ any other laser treatments for other procedures?"

The male frowned. "I do not understand your question, sir."

Islander smiled. "Modern science has instituted the concept of the laser cosmetic treatment for improving a human body from ugliest to prettiness. Does Birmingham Hospital operate a laser center?"

He sneered. "I do understand your question. A non-invasive procedure effectively treats acne and surgical scars, as well as, tattoo removal, stretch mark removal, and pigmentation treatment. You have come to visit the wrong medical institution for such ugly patients. Birmingham Hospital is a medical facility for very sick and dying patients, not a beauty school for teenagers and drunken college students, Mr. Islander."

Islander smiled. "The FDA has approved the technological advanced method of radiofrequency energy and oscillating mechanical waves upon the body, removing fat volume from obese patients, not like liposuction. Liposuction requires a small incision with a laser like cutting with a knife..."

The male exhaled. "You are referencing the method of skin tightening, using a laser beam. Fat cells are stored as lobules. The lobules are clustered like a bunch of wine grapes. These clusters are wrapped in a fibrous tissue layer like a fish net that holds them together. The fibrous tissue layer makes it hard to reach the fatty tissues, using liposuction. The vibrations of any oscillating mechanical wave rattles the fat lobules out its cage, so to speak, and then blasts the fat fibers with the radiofrequency heat to shrink the size of the fat cells which is performed in four treatment sessions over two weeks in a painless and fast clinical environment, usually in a private physician office setting, producing a lean body and tighter skin tone. There are many different types of light that affects the skin, including laser, radiofrequency, and ultrasound technology which in turn displays marked improvements in cellulite, skin tightness, tissue volume, tone, and elasticity, while reducing wrinkles and rejuvenates the face from anti-aging. Birmingham Hospital and my radiation clinic do not perform any of these vainly selfish beauty treatments. Thank you for listening to my lecture. Good day to you, Mr. Islander and the FDA!" He stood upright from the chair with a stern face without extending a hand, marking the end of the meeting and spun around, leaving the business office for his working job.

Islander stood upright from the office chair with a smile, whistling for Lester. Then he and Lester turned and left the business office and the radiation department of Birmingham Hospital.

06:03 pm

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

City of Gardendale

(ten miles, north, from FDA work building)

Home location Islander and his father

Kitchen setting

Islander entered the house and slammed the garage door shut for attention, as well as, the location. "Daddy, I'm home."

"Kitchen," the baritone voice yelled out loud.

Islander leaned against the wall and pulled off each cowboy boot and then neatly hung up the sports jacket onto the clothing tree inside the foyer for his work job tomorrow. He slides the wet socks over the shiny smooth wooden planks, leading down the hallway, passing the living room, the dining room and turned into the kitchen space.

His dad had prepared an array of food dishes like always, placing each dish on top of the round breakfast table, pointing each food item with a smile. "Miss Peggy Leigh's mashed potatoes. Miss Tammy Jo's farm fresh green beans. Miss Mary Sue's fried chicken. Miss Betty Ann's corn on the cob. Miss Bobbie Lou's pecan pie..."

Islander slid into the chair with a smile. "No biscuits?"

His dad stood upright from the chair and reached over, grabbing the wrapped bread from the top of the refrigerator, tossing it between the two glass tumblers with elegance and a smile. "White bread. Eat your fill, son," he sat back down and scooped up a spoonful of the mashed potatoes onto the fried chicken leg and folded a slice of bread around the meat. He ate and chewed three times, swallowing the lump with a smile to his son. "How was work? Stop any drug lords today?"

Islander chewed with an open mouth, "Two and a nasty dead doberman."

Lester was making his eyeball and muzzle inspection survey around the exterior perimeter of the ranch house that belonged to father of Islander for security and protection of his family first. After the nose and the eyeball inspection, the dog entered the house through the kitchen doggie door for his meal, compliments of the father of Islander also. Islander and Lester always were expected home around six in the evening.

His dad gasped. "Damn! Lester killed the thing."

Islander swallowed the food with a smile. "The damn thing decided to piss Lester off. That's what an in-bred kissing cousin gets permanently." His dad laughed and then ate the food. Islander smiled. "Are you going to the church picnic on Sunday? Miss Mary Sue flagged me down at the pasture gate, before driving up to the house. She's nice, not as pretty as Mama. She is nice and asks about you, a lot."

"Guess so!"

Islander exhaled. "Daddy, it is your life, but it has been two years since Mama's passing into heaven. You should move along with your life. What's the problem? What's wrong with Miss Mary Sue?"

"There isn't anything wrong with Miss Mary Sue or Miss Tammy Jo or any of the Miss Elderly Women. I agree they're nice and pleasant, a little too pushy sometimes, not like your mama. I'm in no rush, son. I'm young of age and might of fifty-five years with lots of muscle left in this old body. I was planning on asking you that same question. What's your probe, son? You are a nice bachelor alone on a Tuesday night without female companionship. How's the girl from last Friday night?"

"Okay. She doesn't drink beer."

He chuckled. "One of your many country boy tests," chewing the food.

Islander chewed and swallowed with a nod. "I got a new murder case. Three obese male bodies of children, there were found after those killer tornadoes a few years ago. They might've been killed inside a cryo-laboratory. Then the bodies might've been dumped as the storm approached, covering up the dead cadavers."

He chewed and swallowed, shaking his skull. "Overweight and obesity are both abnormal accumulation of fat cells that presents a risk health to the human and a serious impact your investigation. Obesity leads to serious health consequences like the probable cause of premature death. You might find it difficult to prove murder, son."

Islander chewed and swallowed with a nod. "I got two clues, missing organs and a set of liquid nitrogen frozen. Each body part was covered in a set of distinct three faint yellow rings."

He nodded. "The faint yellow rings are definitely frostbite signals coming from the nitro. The deadly storms of tornadoes tore through the rooftops, the brick walls, the plumbing pipes, and the wall plaster. Any type of building construction, sitting pretty in that tornado would have popped and then soaked the ground with all types of flammable and leaking liquids. One type of liquid remnant in a construction site is liquid nitrogen. The dripping lead from a pipe could've gone down underneath the Earth's surface. When the nitrogen exists in the soil, it vaporizes removing heat from the soil and then freezing it as a solid. Your dead and warm bodies could've been dumped on top of the leaked liquid nitrogen and then the bodies could've absorbed some of the water-soaked ground moisture that contained the frozen liquid nitrogen. Then, the frozen liquid nitrogen would have morphed into the body into a zombie cryo-state inside the gas that would have adhered into the warm body like glue."

Islander chewed and swallowed with a nod. "Yeah, it could have? I'll check with Wilbur on that theory."

He said. "Cryogenics is a branch of physics that is concerned with very low temperatures on organisms or materials. The prefix 'cryo' comes from the Greek word 'kryos,' meaning cold. In the year 1623, Francis Bacon experimented on the putrefaction of fowl flesh. He stuffed a bird with snow to observe the effects of non-decaying flesh. Then he caught a nasty head cold which turned into acute bronchitis. That experimentation contributed to his death in the year 1626. Most animals are able to lower their body temperature during hibernation, not people. No human can tolerate freezing temperatures within their delicate body tissues. When a human is exposed to freezing temperatures, ice forms inside their blood vessels and then bursts the blood cells open, beyond the point, where they can't function and survive. Frostbite is the common malady caused by cold temperatures. The skin and blood cells, both are damaged from the dehydration due to freezing temperatures. Scientists have found that some types of frogs and turtles can survive being frozen. When a frog senses ice forming on the body, its liver produces extra glucose that is blood sugar which floods into each cell to protect the body from freezing and from damage."

Islander chuckled. "These bodies didn't come with any frozen frogs or turtles..."

"Boys will be boys. If these boys lived near the woodlands, then get lost during the tornados. Then the three bodies would have suffered frostbite way out there during the wintertime here in Alabama. That would explain the first ring of yellow. Then, if a crazy person found these bodies, they would've ripped out the organs for the black market. Disasters always bring outsiders into the destroyed towns looking for stolen stuff. Why not some damaged body parts of some lost families killed during the tornados then lost during the wintertime? These tornados were F5s, deadly. I bet there're some folks who still haven't been found from years ago. Honestly, some of the redneck families around here are so large that folks just didn't know where any person goes or lives."

Islander chewed and swallowed with a nod. "You and Wilbur agree."

"So far, scientists only freeze and use human organs for transplants like sperm cells and eye ball corneas."

Islander nodded. "Wilbur told me and I saw that all the eyeballs were missing from the murder victims."

"Nitro makes up 78.03 percent of air and is used as a gaseous nitrogen chemical, blanketing any type of blood vessels for a medical application. From a medical precaution, nitrogen gas acts as a simple asphyxiant when inhaled. If an eye or a hand contacts the gas, it causes frostbite. When working with cryogenic liquids, you must wear a full face shield and other personal protection equipment for your body protection. Hmm, it sounds like the madman had some fun..."

"Sounds like body snatching. Wilbur thinks the organs are being traded on the black market, too.

His dad laughed. "Sounds like science fiction to me," he turned and stared at the farm land through the side window. "But this old earth is filled with nothing but mean folks now days," he turned and ate the food, chewing.

Islander chewed and swallowed the food with a nod. "Maybe, you can come down to the FBI medical laboratory and exchange some cryo-ideas with Wilbur. He is really stuck on the solution to nowhere..."

"Damn! If ya'll don't have a tough mystery there, son. I can do that," he smiled and ate the food, chewing.
Thursday July 31st

06:03 am

Hot temperatures with dull sunshine and parted clouds

FBI Building location

(eleven miles, south, from Islander's home)

Auditorium setting

Islander reached out and grabbed the closed door knob with a yawn, opening the door, entering the laboratory auditorium with a sour frown. "This have betta be good, Wilbur. I missed breakfast, racing the sports car to get here now." He did not bother to grab a set of PPE equipment and moved through the non-sterile environment that did not contain germs. Lexington had rolled out of her warm bed too, after Islander had called her from the car. Lester followed beside his master Islander.

Wilbur stood in front of a new table and pointed down at the objects, "They came."

"They?" Islander stopped and stood beside Wilbur with a confused brow at the new table surface.

Wilbur said. "They came in late last night, an entire family of four complete with their children."

"Children?" Islander frowned down each body and covered a nose from the stinky smell. Four bloated bodies rested on top of the naked table in a particular order of a large male, a large female, a small boy, and a smaller girl. Lester launched up on his hind legs, pawing the air and slammed down the front paws to the tile. The dog whipped around in a completed circle and stopped, lifted upright and slammed into the back legs of his master Islander with worry. Islander looked back over a collar bone with a sour frown. Lester continued to slam the front legs and paw on the legs of Islander with worry. Wilbur turned and pointed down at Lester in silence. Islander reached out and grabbed Wilbur, spinning around and dashed ahead towards the closed door. Lester spun around and raced towards the closed door, pawing it open.

The door opened.

Lester exited first. Islander led Wilbur through the archway. The door slammed shut with a loud boom.

Wilbur stopped and stared down at the dog. "What's wrong with Lester?"

"He smells something, not good." Islander spun around and stared with a worried brow through the tiny window of the locked door.

"They're dead, Is. Death always smells like shit," Wilbur turned and stared the back spine of Islander.

Islander shook his skull and leaned into the window. "Not a death stench, Lester is reacting to an unseen odor, not sniffed by you and me. Some type of smell, not death, but alive..."

"Contamination germs might expose us and explain their deaths."

Islander continued to scan the interior room for trouble. "You're swift, Wilbur. Tell me what else have you got on the dead bodies?"

Research office setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial lighting

Wilbur spun around and moved across the hallway, entering a new room, sitting down and accessed a new desktop computer. Islander back stepped from the sealed and locked door with a worried brow, spinning around and followed Wilbur, grabbing a chair and slid beside Wilbur.

Inside the hallway, Lester continued to sniff at the closed door with worry.

Wilbur ripped off the face mask and typed on the computer, stopping and reading out lout the information on the screen. "Let's see! These bodies are different from my creepy FBI collection of many body parts. The family was intact at the joint bones, only missing the eyeballs, the liver, and the kidney, instead of every organ which wasn't either stolen or eaten by maggots. Each family member fits the pattern of obesity. You can see. The BMI is easily over twenty-nine."

Islander nodded. "Your body part snatching theory just got proven correctly, Wilbur. Where did the bodies come from?"

"Fultondale."

"Fultondale, that city was a part of the tornado route, too."

Wilbur read out loud the information from the computer screen. "Plenty of the destroyed buildings stood until last week from the lack of funding or ownership abandonment. During the structure demolition, the dead family members were found. I must state in the same condition as my jigsaw puzzle containers inside my isolation laboratory. On the electronic picture, a yellowish ring around the stomach. This is definitely a laser slice right in the exact spot of the missing liver and kidneys. I would say that the thief rushed his personal body job, taking the set of more expensive organs. On the black market, a single healthy liver pays out one hundred thousand dollars. A single kidney and an eyeball, each one is paid out at eighty thousand dollars. For two within a package, it is one hundred and sixty thousand dollars. So an entire body is worth about two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Then you multiple by four..."

"Yeah, that is a cool one million dollars to a dead family, who is not alive to spend the money."

"Good at math, Is! The family name is Murfree from Pleasant City, whose house was totally destroyed in the tornados. To me, this means that someone killed them in one location and then dragged their dead asses a long way from there to here in town tiny Fultondale, where the same tornado torn through the small town. The police authorities questioned the neighbors and came to the same conclusion. The family went missing from their community but moved away like so many other folks."

"What did the pulled medical and dental records show?" Islander turned and watched Lester. The dog continued to paw at the door. "Lester is really upset about something inside those dead bodies, sticking and stinking inside his nose holes. How about we use a Geiger counter and see if we can trace any nuclear activity?"

Wilbur frowned. "Do you believe that they get nuked by what, Is?"

"Your awesome working theory, man! You have proposed that the body part snatchers used lasers and have been proven right. Lasers leave traces and trace elements. Let's see if any of the bodies are radiated, coming from the usage of many laser slices." He nodded.

Wilbur slid off the stool and spun around with a stern face, moving ahead towards the side wall inside the research and pointing at the red colored painted sign. "Follow me, Is!"

"Sento, Lester." Islander slid off the chair and dashed behind the back spine of Wilbur. Lester spun around from the door and ran into the room, stopping and sat down over tile, watching his master.

Wilbur said. "We hold an array of radiation gear in here. We can get dressed and suit up. Then we can examine the bodies safely."

06:35 am

FBI medical isolation laboratory room

Interior setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial lighting

The locked and secure door opened.

Wilbur led Islander and moved ahead towards the new table surface, wearing a radiation suit and holding a Geiger counter. He stopped and scanned the large male first, focusing on the yellowish faint ring, covering the liver positioned on the stomach. "I am not seeing anything radiated. I am moving the Geiger counter to the visual slice of the left kidney and then the right kidney. I am not seeing anything radiated here either." He back stepped and scooted around the first table, moving ahead towards the second table with a stern face inside the helmet gear. "I am going to quickly scan for any type of radiation signature on the large female, the small male, and the small female." He worked rapidly and scanned the device over each body on top of the other three tables, standing in front of the small female and lifted, reading the tiny screen on the Geiger counter with a sour frown. "I am not finding one single radiation reading. Let's go and review the results of the laboratory tests. I sliced off the skin and orange samples and ordered the tests last night. The techs should be done by now," he shut down the Geiger counter devise and placed it on top of the last table, spinning around with a worried brow and moved ahead towards the entrance wall, where a tall work table, a set of three tall stools, and three active desktop computers stood. He slid into one of the tall stools, reaching out and pressed the button. The desktop computer blinked into life.

Islander spun around and dashed behind the back spine of Wilbur, sliding into one of the two tall stools, staring at the same active computer screen.

Wilbur said. "I ordered culture swabs of throat, nasal, anal. Hmm, I see."

Islander nodded. "No shit!"

"There is not any rectal discharge at the time of death. There is always some smelly shit inside the anus, after a body expires, unless the body is frozen."

Islander chuckled. "You're batting hundred with the deer freezing, Dr. Wilbur."

"I do not see any usage of oncology drugs inside their systems either. I tested for that too, in case the cut incisions were related to any type of laser treatments. This is a big fat mystery, Is. This body has been tested and has resulted in a negative outcome for any type of controlled substitutes, including cocaine and sleeping medications. Without viewing the other bodies, I would place a bet with the same laboratory results." He reached down and tapped on the keyboard with a nod. "I have activated the computer in front of your helmet visor for review. I'm flipping to the next report, since we both have duplicate reports with the same information. You can use the other computer and continue to scan the first body of the large male with the first laboratory report. I want to peruse the other lab tests and see if we can pinpoint any connection to the jigsaw puzzle of containers."

"Okay." Islander leaned over and reached down, tapping on the keyboard of the new computer screen. It blinked into life and showed the same laboratory report. "Wait! Why is that written remark highlighted in red colors on the report?"

Wilbur clicked through each item with a confused brow. "Any interesting item is always highlighted in the color of red. What is this?"

Islander chuckled, "A picture of a toy..."

Wilbur gasped, "Again?"

Islander frowned, "Yeah, again, the toy showed the same words of Burn Hospital. The words have been etched onto the metal where the toy was purchased at Birmingham Hospital. I was there yesterday afternoon. So, I will go back and ask more questions again."

Wilbur frowned. "Do you want me to send over my brothers of the FBI too?"

Islander frowned at the toy picture on the computer screen, "No, not yet! Let me pin the doctor down with murder one for a family of dead with children first." He slid off the chair with a sour frown and turned, moving towards the closed door to exchange the radiation suit for his regular street clothes.

Wilbur remained inside the chair and reviewed the rest of the laboratory tests with a worried brow. "I am staying in here and review each laboratory results which can pinpoint and hang the killer. So, I'll be seeing you back here in a bit. Good hunting, Is!"

Islander reached out and grabbed the door knob, opening the door and moved ahead towards the research room in silence.

He exchanged the clothing and escorted Lester back into his sports car, traveling to Birmingham Hospital.

7:30 am

Birmingham Hospital location

Radiation Department

Reception lobby setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial lighting

Islander and Lester glided through the open door into the radiation department at the local hospital.

Lester moved ahead and sniffed the floor, rubbing the nose back and forth across the tile, hunting for the same odor inside the FBI medical laboratory. The dog charged around the office desk and chair of the receptionist first, finding no odor similar to the smell inside the FBI laboratory.

He bolted into the reception lobby which was devoid of patients and their family members, sniffing around three chairs and the coffee table, barely moving the magazines on top of the surface that were for the patients, dropping a nose down, whirling around the floor again. The dog moved from the reception lobby and strolled down an empty hallway and stopped at the first office door, sniffing until he was fully satisfied with no odor presence. Then he resumed his search. He scooted down to the second office door, stopped and sniffed, planting a nose back down over the floor, smelling the tile and spun around, galloping out the office door.

Islander raced behind the tail of dog. Lester stopped outside a closed door, not barking but posing. Islander stopped and stood in front of the closed door, reaching out and turned the knob. Lester sat back on his hind legs and slammed the cracked door open with excitement with a skull butt. Islander stood inside the archway and viewed a room full of employees. Lester entered the room and sniffed the tile, dashing and separated two people with a skull butt, barking at the female. Islander whipped out and held the hand gun at the people with a yell and a stern face, "This is a FDA business. Please, do not move from your standing or sitting positions."

Lexington appeared and stood behind the back spine of Islander, holding up a single sheet of brown colored paper. "Please stay calm! We are a pair of FDA agents, conducting a murder investigation. Please follow our orders. Who is in charge in here?"

Inside the conference room, the tall and dark skinned male stood upright and tossed both arms into the air with a sour sneer. "I am Dr. Paschell Vickers. I am in charge of the radiation therapy department here at Birmingham Hospital. What is happening here? What is the meaning of your invasion into private property?" He moved ahead and stood in front of Islander and Lexington with a sour face.

Islander holstered the weapon and thumbed over a collar bone to the empty hallway with a stern face. "I would like for everyone to go back into your office until you are excluded from this murder investigation, except for Dr. Tatianna Orwell and Dr. Paschell Vickers. Do you have a conference room where we all can speak in private?"

Vickers exhaled with a nod and stared with a sour frown at Islander. "Tatianna, please lead the way for the unwelcomed visitors to end this ridicule matter."

Tatianna stood upright from the chair with a stern face and moved ahead, exiting the room, moving into a new conference room.

Vickers stood in place with a soft growl and a sour frown.

Lexington spun around with a stern face and followed behind the back spine of Tatianna. Islander whistled. Lester turned and dashed to the side of his master, moving beside Islander, entering the new room.

Conference room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial lighting

Tatianna stopped and stood beside the new conference room, watching the other people enter the room with a stern face. She slid down into the chair and sat across from Islander and Lexington and beside Vickers. Lester stopped and rested beside the boot toe of his master Islander, closing the eyelids for a brief rest of new action.

Islander exhaled without a smile to Tatianna and Vickers. "I am very sorry for the intrusion. The FBI department has uncovered several dead bodies. The dead bodies are also missing a set of dead body parts that has been discovered to have been frozen by liquid nitrogen and then sliced by a laser beam..."

Vickers gasped. "The dead bodies were killed by a laser beam. Now, I understand your visit here at the Birmingham Hospital yesterday. Do you really believe that I have done this?"

Islander exhaled. "The latest victim is a young boy. He was holding a toy with the words Burn Hospital which is the shorten nickname for Birmingham Hospital. We have spoken to your hospital administration. They give us permission for our invasion. The little boy, his sister, his mom, and his dad are missing a pair of eyeballs, two kidneys, and the liver..."

Vickers gasped. "Those are very valuable pieces of healthy organs, if they have reached any type of thief within the illegal black market..."

"We believe that is where the organs have been transported. The reason we are here. Each body has been mutilated by a laser beam, leaving three faints rings of yellow tinted..."

Tatianna gasped, "Frostbite! A yellow faint ring would indicate a degree of frostbite. You suspect that each body visited here and then was murdered here inside the clinic and then dropped somewhere else."

Islander exhaled with a nod. "Are you currently treating a family named Murfree from Pleasant City?"

Vickers turned and frowned at his employee. "Tatianna, could you please pull the medical records on any and all family name of Murfree?" She stood upright from the chair and exited the room for the new information. Lexington stood upright from her chair and followed behind the back spine of Tatianna for security. Vickers nodded. "I am familiar with the last name. However, I do not know if it is the same particular biological family."

"How is liquid nitrogen used here within the radiation therapy department at Birmingham Hospital?"

Vickers exhaled. "Liquid nitrogen is a cryogenic liquid when properly insulated it can be transported inside flasks, without harm. Like dry ice, it is refrigerated. It is primarily used in cryo-preservation of blood, reproductive cells, such like, sperm and eggs and other biological samples..."

"...like stem cells too. Within the emerging field of regenerative medicine, stem cells are being extracted from the failing organs. The transplantation of organs includes the heart, kidneys, liver, lungs, pancreas, and intestines. The human tissues include bones, cornea, skin, heart valves, and veins. Kidneys are the most commonly transplanted organ then the liver, then the heart, too. Here in the good old USA, the FDA sets strict regulations on the safety of the transplants. Seventy thousand kidneys are transplanted every year, coming from the black market with a price tag of eighty thousand dollars for a single kidney or an eyeball. And about ten sickly Americans die each day waiting for an organ..."

"I do not know why you need my medical advice, sir. You have collected and gathered all the available information you need about..."

"Sir," Tatianna entered the room and slid down into the chair without smiling. "I have found our medical record file on a family named Murfree from Pleasant City. The mother had breast cancer. She is our patient. And liquid nitrogen is a colorless, odorless, extremely cold liquid and gas under pressure. It is used to freeze the blood for surgery, not a murder weapon, Islander."

Islander nodded. "Liquid nitrogen is also used in cryo-surgery to destroy diseased tissue. Except, if the tissue is not diseased but viable, then..."

"Nitrogen is also used to freeze livestock semen which can then be stored for years. Maybe, your mischievous-sliced-by-laser-little-boys got into someone's horse barn, causing some horsey trouble. I would like to remind that the quick freeze process from the intense cold minimizes cell wall damage..."

"...requiring eye, skin, respiratory lung, and hand coverings for protection, while handling liquid nitrogen." Islander nodded.

She said, "Plus, some chemical-resistant impervious gloves and a self-contained breathing apparatus to avoid inhaling the liquid nitrogen. This is not an expensive set up here at Birmingham Hospital for any type of made-shift ugly laboratory."

Islander grinned. "Lester has sniffed a usual sniff here inside the radiation therapy department of the Birmingham Hospital, specifically coming from her."

Tatianna frowned. "I do not know why that would be."

Lexington returned and entered the room, wearing a radiation suit, holding a Geiger counter and stopped, standing next to Tatianna. She said through the helmet, "Unless, she is the real murderess of the many mutilated dead bodies. Please stand up!" Tatianna stood upright from the chair in silence. Lexington looked down with a confused brow at the instrument. "There is not any higher than normal levels of low radiation from her, her office, this conference room, or outside in the corridor hallway. I would suspect the odor is on her person or maybe in her clothes. We need to examine her clothes."

Tatianna frowned. "I respect your authority as the FDA and the radiation procedures with Dr. Vickers. Therefore, I will cooperate with all your obtuse orders. If I may suggest that we visit with the FBI laboratory. The sophisticated equipment can analysis all the odors on my person and my clothing without the gun, too."

Lexington nodded without smiling, "An excellent idea! Dr. Orwell and I will travel inside the decontamination van. Islander and Lester will drive his car back to the FBI laboratory medical center." She slowly spun around and exited the conference room.

Tatianna followed behind the back spine of Lexington.

Islander stood upright from the chair and extended a hand to Vickers with a smile and a nod. "Thank you for your valuable time, Dr. Vickers." Lester stood upright from the floor, wiggling the tail, drooling the tongue for the next command from his master Islander.

Vickers continued to sit inside the chair with a sour frown. "Not welcome!"

Islander back stepped from the chair with a grin and side stepped, following behind the females with a loud whistle. Lester dashed beside his master, wiggling the tail, sniffing the floor. They left the building and loaded back into his sports car, driving back towards the FBI Building.

08:11 am

Downtown Birmingham

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

FBI Building front entrance setting

The FDA van drove from the hospital and stopped, parking away from the building, opening up the rear doors.

Tatianna slid out the rear bench seat with Lexington. Lexington had exchanged the radiation suit for her regular street clothes. They moved ahead together towards the FBI building while discussing the issue of the dead bodies.

The sports car followed behind the FDA van and veered, finding a parking spot in front of the building. The driver's door opened. Lester exited from the sports car and dashed ahead, stopping and sat in front of elderly male, waggling the tail at the father of Islander. The father of Islander leaned down and patted the skull of Islander with a smile, standing upright to see the new set of visitors.

Lexington moved ahead and stopped, standing beside Lester and the elderly male, leaning over and hugged, pulling back with a smile and a giggle, "Hey there, Islander's daddy!"

The father of Islander smiled, "Hey there, Lex and Tatianna!"

Islander dashed from the car and pulled up beside Tatianna with a smile. She turned and winked at Islander. "Your daddy says my full name for respect and love."

"Hey, Daddy!" Islander reached out and shook the hand with a smile, releasing the handshake with a confused brow. "Why are here at the FBI building?"

The father of Islander smiled with a nod. "You invited me here, yesterday. So I called up Wilbur. He said to come on down and look at the frozen bodies, buddy," chuckling.

Islander nodded with a smile, "O yeah! Okay. Let's all go inside and make Wilbur nervous." He scooted around his father, leading the gang up the steps and into the medical isolation laboratory and reached out for the handle. The door opened. He stood and held the door.

Each person moved inside the FBI building.

08:18 am

FBI medical isolation laboratory room

Interior setting

Man-made cold temperatures, enclosed walls of artificial lighting

The gang of professional moved ahead and turned the wall corner, seeing Wilbur.

Wilbur wore a set of yellow colored PPE gear and held open the laboratory door with a smile behind the face mask for each guest, "Welcome to my laboratory! Welcome to my laboratory of germs!" The father of Islander, Lexington, Tatianna, Lester, and Islander moved ahead and entered into the room with a smile in silence. Wilbur turned and followed behind the invited guests as the door closed and locked, keeping out any unwelcomed visitor. He said. "Please, disguise your face before taking the little germs home to your family," he stopped and stood in the middle of the floor, watching the people dress inside the PPE gear.

The invited guests finished dressing including Lester in yellow colors and spun around to see Wilbur.

Wilbur nodded to each guest. "I have been talking with Tatianna and Lex during their short ride from the hospital inside the FDA van. Tatianna has presented the concept of a diseased infection. Any type of disease is considered nothing more than an imbalance of enzymes. Therefore, any type of enzyme imbalance may be inherited which might explain the reasoning of robbing the organs of obesity victims here in Birmingham. Or in our case, the enzyme imbalance may have been created by the robbers of the obesity victims," he lifted a palm with a sour frown inside the face mask. "Yes. This is a crazy idea coming off the planet and out of this universe. I am out of ideas. The FBI is out of ideas. And the FDA is out of ideas. We will entertain this concept until it is trashed like the other silly concepts. Let's enter my lab, folks! I have set up a big wall-covered television screen with numerous input laboratory figures for an enzyme demonstration," he moved ahead and marched towards a set of chairs in front of a solid wall that was illuminated with blinking digital numbers in the colors of dark blue.

The father of Islander turned and advanced towards one of the tables, stopping and stared at the dead body and the containers of body parts. "I can take death and cold and body parts, but this space makes me wanna barf up my lunch, Wilbur. It smells worse than a nursing home."

Islander moved ahead and sat inside a chair with a sad face and a whisper. "I remember." Lester jumped into the air and sat down into his own metal chair next to his master Islander, watching the action.

Wilbur stopped and spun around, facing the row of chair in front of the wall of blue colored numbers. "I have arranged a special lecture area here. Please, select a metal chair, anywhere. Freezer number sixteen is filled with both blood and gene slides from every single victim and body part, since I do not have enough space to store the useless body parts that lie around the exposed tables."

The father of Islander spun around from the table of the dead with a chuckle, moving towards one of the metal chairs. "Buy him another freezer, son."

All the invited guests had selected and been seated inside a metal chair for the lecture. Wilbur cleared a throat. "I will begin my enzyme demo with a simple example. And please interrupt me, make assumptions, and add your input. We are solving an unsolved problem. In dogs like Lester, there is a specific digestive enzyme, preventing loose stools, diarrhea, and digestion of food. Like dogs, a human has a specific nutrient enzyme that is generated inside the body, too. For a specific enzyme to be formed, two key ingredients must be present. One is organic minerals and the other is raw protein..."

The father of Islander laughed. "Eat beef!"

Islander chuckled. "Get milk!"

Lexington exhaled. "Milk has vitamins, not proteins. Vitamin D is specific located in cow's milk."

Tatianna smiled. "Milk also has an enzyme called lactose which is not really relevant here to the demonstration, unless each victim had consumed from type of contaminated animal milk product from an ill goat."

Wilbur said. "An enzyme is the miracle nutrient. Every time you eat your big everything burger at Dee Dee's Hamburgers, your body pulls out all the enzymes and then uses and replaces and replenishes and reserves, working and wasting all the enzymes inside your body. It is called the miracle health builders."

Islander said. "I thought that amino acids were the building blocks."

Tatianna said. "And the enzymes are the buildings."

Lexington said. "Each enzyme performs a separate function like preventing you from having diarrhea, after consuming sweet milk."

Islander turned and winked at Tatianna. "I like sweet milk."

Lex said. "The enzyme lactose is a sugar. Some folks just blow after consuming the natural enzyme made by cows."

Islander winked at Tatianna. "I like to be blown." She giggled inside the face mask.

Wilbur said. "And you possess millions upon millions of every kind of enzyme inside your body. So, there are a million different enzymes for use as a research physician. However, I have done my extra credit homework, concentrating on three specific enzymes within the dead bodies. I did experiment with the enzyme model a few years ago when the body parts were discovered and presented to me for bio-analysis. So far, I have found this. There are four plant-based enzymes, mostly common in all natural food supplements. The four are protease, lipase, amylase, and cellulose. I have tested and eliminated all these four enzymes from the subjects a few years ago. There are RNA-enzymes based on biological catalysts of ribozymes. Yes. The laboratory results were negative without any type of variance in the standard numbers from a standard human, which was me. I used me as the test dummy of my enzyme experiment. Therefore, I have removed the RNA-enzymes from our boiling pot of nothing. Now since, I have a room full of gifted pharmacists to assist me today, tomorrow, the next tomorrow, and some other tomorrows. We will test and experiment on the amino acid strand. I am concentrating specifically on the branched-chain keto acid of 2-ketoisovalerate, 2-keto-3-methylvalerate, and 2-ketoisocaproate..."

Islander shook a skull cap of yellow with a smile behind the face mask. "Thank goodness! I thought Wilbur was going to rattle off all the amino acid names including valine, isoleucine, leucine..." he laughed with the others.

"Shush, too." Lexington frowned.

Wilbur said. "After I had sliced the skin cells from each frozen and bloated bodies, I found two of the three keto acids. The two keto acids were unable to degrade, after mutagenesis in pure oxygen. The final result, the 2-ketoisovalerate element on the amino acid chain was totally destroyed."

Islander chuckled, "Two bad! Get it, two! T.w.o. Two bad!"

Wilbur said. "There was also a concomitant loss of ability to grow or duplicate or clone on the 2-keto-3-methylvalerate and 2-ketoisocaproate of the three branched-chain amino acids when using pure oxygen."

Islander chuckled, "Two, good."

"Shush, Is!" Lexington frowned.

Wilbur said. "However, I discovered another type of mutation that showed a marked reduction activity and grew exponentially when a new intermediate was utilized a carbon source."

Islander chuckled. "We are carbon."

"We are oxygen." Lexington exhaled.

The father of Islander frowned. "Plants are carbon, not humans, son."

Tatianna said. "A carbon source possesses a specific enzymatic composition, Is."

Wilbur said. "A healthy amino acid can be delaminated into a set of common enzymes. The common enzymes can be degraded into a set of pathways. And the set of pathways is regulated throughout the biological body, except when oxidation occurs. Oxidation of an enzyme offers a discrete pathway. In my research investigation, I have found that the existence of a common pathway. The common pathway had been obtained by the isolation and characterization of mutant on chromosome-eighteen."

Lexington frowned inside the face mask. "Why specifically on chromosome-eighteen?"

Tatianna lifted a gloved hand with a confused brow. "Wait a minute here! Did you say that you had found a mutation on chromosome-eighteen?" She stood upright from the chair and turned to scan the room, moving towards the computer on the entrance wall. "Does that computer access the internet in here?"

"Yes." Wilbur turned and followed behind the back spine of Tatianna with a confused brow.

Islander, Lexington, and the father of Islander, all stood upright from the chair and spun around, moving towards the same computer.

Tatianna slid into the chair and reached out, typing on the key board of the computer. "This is very bizarre. I coordinate all the research projects within the radiation therapy department, working with the other physician researchers," she stopped the tap and pointed the computer screen. "This is the US Federal Government site for the National Science Foundation of research grants. There are many types of research projects. This one on the computer screen is entitled 'Chloride and Sodium Transport within Chromosome Cells.' The major goal of the research project is to define the biochemistry of chloride and sodium transport cells and clone the gene involved in transport within the human body. The one below that one is a second research experimental project entitled Chromosome Membrane Composition and Function'"

Lexington stood behind the rear skull of Tatianna with a sour frown. "This is over my gray matter. So what does it mean, Tatianna?"

Islander stood next to Lexington with a smile, "Mine, too, Tit! Why are you accessing the internet, chasing down cancer cell projects?"

Tatianna read out loud the information on the computer screen. "This is another new research projected entitled 'Chromosome Gene Therapy for Cell Carcinoma.' The major goal is to use viral strategies to express the normal gene in a human chromosome cell lines and to study the effect on growth and invasiveness of the lines. Here is another research experiment which is known as 'Mutations in Chromosome 18 in the Progression of Cancer Cell Carcinoma.' The major goal of this sub-project is to define the mutations inside chromosome-eighteen and their genetic contribution towards tumor progression and metastasis. Here is another research project that is paid to the physicians and a group of teaching medical institutions by the US Federal Government for four million dollars. It is entitled 'Chromosome Mutations in Cancer.' The goal of the project is to define the spectrum of chromosome mutations in humans based on cancer samples and correlate the results with clinical outcomes of death. The outcomes of death, please remember that phrase. This is an ancient research grant from the US Federal Government which is called 'Gene Cloning of the Human Chromosome.' The program will map, target, and clone all forty-six human chromosomes, cloning each gene relevant to the red and white blood cells, which is the essence of life," she snapped the gloved fingers with a nod and slid off the stool, spinning around to face the others. "There was a physician a few years ago that was awarded this particular research grant, except part of his personal agenda was to process the clinical outcomes of death. His subjects were dead people, not live participates. He asked permission from Dr. Vickers, if he could remove the chromosomes patterns from his dead subjects, using a laser beam process, after working hours inside the radiation therapy department. Dr. Vickers told him to jump off a limestone cliff in much more eloquence words," she turned and stared at the dead bodies with a stern face and a serious tone. "The participating physician researchers of this particular research project received the nickname 'God Code' for Gene Order Domination for Cloning the Outcomes of the DEad."

Lexington dropped her mouth open and spun around to stare at the dead bodies. "Researchers are supposed to helping folks by saving lives, not killing children..."

Wilbur spun around with a nod to stare at the dead bodies on top of the tables too. "I do believe that we have found that the God Code is both alive and active in Birmingham, Alabama."

Islander spun around and stared at the dead bodies and the nose profile of Tatianna. "Tit, what was the physician name from a few years ago?"

Tatianna looked up with a stern face at the ceiling and then to see the mask of Islander. "Brown, Bronze, Bronzie. It was a long time ago, Is. Dr. Vickers talked with him and then dismissed him swiftly. I only heard the gossip from Dr. Vickers. I couldn't describe his physical face features either. I know what you next question will be."

Lexington whipped out and lifted her mobile telephone, tapping with the gloved hand. "Okay. We have the research project name. Use your personal cells to find a physician named Brown or Bronze that could be related to this particular research study. All the Federal government studies are documented by law on the internet for such a wicked search," laughing.

Each skull nodded and whipped out the mobile telephone, looking for the same information.

Lester jumped down from the chair and dashed ahead, stopping and stood beside his master. He reached out and gentle licked the gloved hand of Islander. Islander leaned down to see Lester with a wink. "Good buddy, Lester! Come on. I'll take you out for tee-tee time," he spun around and moved towards the closed door, wearing the PPE gear, looking at the mobile telephone too.

Lexington tapped on her mobile telephone with a smile inside the face mask. "Don't hurry back, Is. So, I can find the answer and get the company bonus for my brilliant discovery," giggling.

Islander trotted towards the closed door with a sour frown inside the face mask, "Hardy, har, har, Lex! We'll be right back." He stopped and opened the door. Lester dashed ahead and around the wall corner, patiently stopping and waiting on his master in front of the entrance doors of the FBI building.

Lobby interior setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial lighting

Islander exited the laboratory without removing the PPE gear and turned the wall corner, scooting around the stationary person. The person stopped and scanned the lobby in silence. Islander frowned at the stranger inside the FBI building. "Do you need some help, buddy?"

The delivery person looked down and read out the package name. "Yes sir! I am looking for a Tatianna Orwell," he looked up with a worried brow to see Islander.

He chuckled. "Ti...it...uh...she's here," he spun around with a grin and moved around the wall corner towards the closed door and stopped. He stood in front of the door and pointed at the metal door with the tiniest window in the world with a chuckle. "That is a contaminated laboratory room with a series of big ugly invisible germs. But you can go right inside for a few seconds to deliver the package."

The delivery person back stepped from the closed door with a worried brow and held the small package between a pair of gloved hands, staring at the tiniest window in the world, shaking the company cap in silence. Islander chuckled. "Do I need to sign my name for the package?"

The delivery person looked down and read the slip, "Naw. It is just a plain old delivery. You can take it into Tatianna Orwell. Do you know her, sir?"

Islander reached out and grabbed the package with a smile and a wink. "Yes, I do. I got it, man. Thanks!"

The delivery person back stepped from the closed door and Islander with a worried brow, staring at the tiniest window in the world. "Thank you! Thanks, sir." He spun around and dashed ahead, leaving the building and the nasty invisible germs, moving towards the company van for the next delivery package.

Islander looked down with a chuckle to see the package. Her name was printed in blocked style hand writing on top of the brown colored plain paper. He lifted and slammed a gloved hand into the metal, opening the door and marched towards her. Tatianna had returned to the stool and studied the computer screen, not him. He stopped and stood next to her nose profile, clearing a throat with a smile inside the face mask, "Package delivery!"

She turned and stared down at the small package with a confused brow, standing from the chair, "Package delivery?"

Islander handed her the package and back stepped from the chair, spinning around and moved towards the closed door. Lester was a good dog but would use the wall corner, if his bladder was about to blow through his bloated guts. Islander spun back around and stared at Tatianna and the new package, promising to have dinner tonight and the next night and the rest of his nights. He really loved her, but he needed to tell her, before it was too late. Then he needed to marry her soonest as they would become the couple of happily ever after, also.

Tatianna sat the package on top of the tall table and ripped off the brown paper, opening the box lid with a gasp, lifting the object into a face. The others gathered around her.

Wilbur frowned down at the object inside the face mask. "What's that?"

Tatianna grinned with a giggle inside the face mask at the object. "I don't know. I mean I do know. I mean. This is my tiara from the Miss Starlit pageant, when I was in college. The pageant is a scholarship program. I entered lots of beauty pageant for the scholarship monies. I used all the monies to pay for college. But I do not know why it has been delivered here to the FBI medical laboratory center."

Islander chuckled at the jeweled tiara and the beautiful Tatianna, slamming a back spine into the closed door, spinning around and exited the laboratory to attend to Lester.

Exterior FBI building setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Lester rushed ahead with a fully bladder of dog piss. Islander swiftly ran around the wall corner and dashed ahead towards the entrance door, slamming the door opened.

Lester dashed ahead from the building, running down the steps into the grass, sniffing around the ground, then the trees outside the woodland patch, near the parking lot on the far end of the building and stopped. He squatted and peed.

Islander slowly moved down each step with a grunt and accessed his mobile telephone, tapping on the tiny screen, searching for the physician of the God Code mysterious research study. Then the screen went black. Islander cursed. "Damn! No power left inside the cell phone. Figures! I'll never beat Lex today."

Lester finished his doggie business and galloped back towards the stack of front steps on the three story red bricked FBI building, wiggling a tail, waiting for his master Islander at the entrance doors.

Islander slowly moved ahead toward his sports car, stop, and then opened the passenger door, spinning around and sat down inside the seat, looking for the power cord to the mobile telephone.

On top of the front steps, Lester spun around and leaned down, sniffing the air between the cracks of the closed door, back stepping with a whine. He swung around and ran back down the steps towards his master.

Islander reached out and plugged the cord into the dead mobile telephone with a smile and a cheer.

Lester leaped down the last step and dashed towards the open car door, jumping into the air and attacked Islander, tossing a big doggie body at the face and the chest of Islander.

Islander fell backward over the soft seat inside the car with a grunt. Then the three-story FBI building exploded in waves of hot and fiery plummets of black ash and red colored heat.

A few minutes later, Islander blinked open and shut both eyelids, seeing a set of bright stars and then dark clouds, feeling the heat from the surprise bomb explosion, hearing deafness within both of his eardrums from the loud blast. He wiggled side to side, feeling a heavy weight over his entire body, reaching out and touched the wet fur, rubbing the wet fur.

He blinked both eyelids and focused on the object.

Lester was outstretched across the chest and the kneecaps on Islander, protecting his master from the deadly explosion of heat, glass, and fireballs, coming from the burning FBI building. The dog was bleeding with an array of massive deep red colored cuts over a back spine and both sides of the furry body.

Islander panted with fear and held a breath, extending a shaky hand towards the dog. He touched Lester's face, not feeling the doggie breath. He touched Lester's nose, not feeling the coolness of moisture. He touched Lester's beating heat, not feeling the pulse of life.

Lester was dead.

Then, Islander passed out into unconscious into darkness over the car seat.
Friday August 1st

08:06 am

Birmingham Hospital location

Radiation therapy department

Conference room setting

Interior room temperature 68ºF

Outdoor air temperature 81ºF

"Who done it?" He slammed down a short stack of paper business folders on top of the rectangular table with a sour frown that held three females inside a set of three separate conference room chairs. The ugly chairs and the three sour faces stared back at IRS Agent Rector Fucner.

Fucner, preferring his last name over the first, possessed an average man frame of five feet and ten inches, parking both fists on a fit waistline. The fit waistline was the result of numerous morning thigh leg runs and late afternoon arm bicep workouts on a set of free-weights which was located inside his apartment in the city of Bessemer. His pair of topaz eyeballs stared at the first female on the left. She shook her dirty blonde curls with a smile, without any vocal guilty confession.

Fucner smiled. "Let us not be bashful now," he turned and stared at the middle female. She possessed a head of bright carrot red colored short hair and was much younger than the first female. The middle female shook her curls with a smirk without any words of a guilty confession.

Next, he jerked a distorted face the see the black colored headed third and last female. She sat and stared at Fucner in silence. She did not like his ancient brown headed Roman-style hair. The haircut went evenly around the sides and on top of his egg-shaped skull, making his ugly nose dominate an uglier pale-ghost face. She wondered how long this sucky interruption will last, eating into her productive work day, before going home. She had arrived at the usual hour of employment five minutes, before the start of an eight-hour day. Then her supervisor Dr. Munsterberg summoned her and the two other co-workers into a morning impromptu department meeting inside the second conference room to meet IRS agent Fucner.

"Why am I here, sir?" The first dirty blonde headed female frowned at Fucner and folded her arms inside the laboratory jacket.

He turned and smiled at each first dirty blonde headed female. "I'm getting to that part in a moment," he looked back over a collar bone to see his work supervisor blackish-grayed headed Eula Gray. She occupied the first puke green fabric colored chair, leaning against the tan colored wall.

The entire wall was hand-drawn with a fifteen-foot-tall red and yellow triceratops that lived on planet Earth during the Cretaceous period of dinosaurs. The triceratops was smiling with a set of oversized pink tinted lips over a new hatchling nest of seven eggs. Three eggs had hatched open as the little babies slowly crawled out of a ground nest of brown twigs and green plant ferns over the sandy brown soil towards her.

The enclosed conference room did not exhibit a single viewing. It was a sitting room for ac child to wait for treatment with a laser beam inside the Birmingham Hospital radiation oncology department.

The three females assisted each sick patient either directly or indirectly as set of paid employees at the Birmingham Hospital within the radiation therapy department.

Eula slightly nodded with a stern face to Fucner for the next stage of the impromptu IRS interrogation process.

Fucner looked with a smile to see the red haired second and middle female. "I'm so glad to see that each one of you enjoys modeling the 'scrubbed' look, because it's the height of fashion, where one of you, maybe all of you ladies will go. I promise crossing a black heart and ten pinky toes inside my boat shoes. The traditional V-neckline on a short sleeved fabric top, hanging over a pair of an elasticized waist with two pockets, that's all tag-less. A funny word tag-less, didn't you think too? It is the rage for having no itchy scratchy synthetic tag behind your neck skin. The fabric is fifty percent rayon and fifty percent polyester for durability of years, decades, maybe for an entire century, since you, ladies are very young."

"Who are you, sir?" The first female with dirty blonde hair frowned at Fucner.

He smiled with a nod and slapped a chest. "I am Rector Fucner from the IRS. Everyone knows the IRS. The Internal Revenue Service is owned by the US Federal Government, ensuring all American folks pay their hard-working American monies to Uncle Sam. Uncle Sam pays all our outstanding money debts to the foreign countries all over the world, since we owe about twenty-four trillion dollars or more. The IRS also monitors all the monies, coming and going from a 501(c)(3) charity financial institution. The numbers and letters represent an IRS Internal Revenue Code, allowing a hospital or a foundation to maintain money income, financial assets, and business liabilities, while obeying all the federal and state accounting laws for receiving free donations from friendly donors. That's free money, not taxed by the Federal US Government, but used to purchase hospital equipment for sick and dying children like here at Birmingham Hospital," he jabbed a finger at each one of the female pair of hospital scrubs with a smile. "Your enjoyable medical scrubs are both durable and easily washed, since Burnside Prison only issues two sets of cotton scrubs to their female inmates. They play in one and sleep in the other in the childish fun color scheme of neon orange. The neon orange is easy to see, when you try to escape up and over the barbed wired fence post," he chuckled with the other occupants inside the room.

The other occupants that Fucner didn't bother to introduce to the three females were listed as his IRS co-worker Judd Levenberry and the director of the Birmingham Hospital radiation oncology department Neal Munsterberg, MD.

"Get to the point, Fucner! Stop wasting my time." The elder man sat against the cute dinosaur wall with a sour frown and sissy whine behind the back spine of Fucner, wearing three slim patches of silver clumps of thinning hair over a wide forehead with a permanent snarl.

Fucner sniggered at the impatience of elderly Moody and stared at the second and middle red haired female, who was not amused with a sour frown and thumbed back over a collar bone with a smile. "That's Mr. Moody. His estimated worth is about four billion dollars and a lot of pennies. Why are you here? No. You didn't win the lottery, ladies. Mr. Vaughan Moody is the chairman of the Vaughan Moody Foundation. Mr. Moody is one to three billionaires living within our great State of Alabama, who has acquired all his money from the building construction industry. If you owned a house, then you probably lived in a home built by Moody Construction. From his wonderful generous heart with his profitable monies, he runs the Vaughan Moody Foundation, serving the low fortune folks throughout Bama. The Vaughn Moody Foundation is headquartered right here in B'ham. The main office is located inside a four story building within Southside community. Every year, the Vaughn Moody Foundation and Mr. Moody accept hundreds..."

"...thousands..." Moody stared with a smile at each female.

"Thousands of applications for free donations of his profitable money," Fucner smiled, "This year, as in past years, the Birmingham Hospital received a very large lump sum payment of money from the Vaughn Moody Foundation. This year, being no exception, the radiation oncology department which is headed by your own Dr. Neal Munsterberg received a lump sum payment of five million dollars for the purchasing of a new set of radiation equipment," he lifted the letter into the air with a stern face. "For convenience of the other two innocent girls' eardrums, they are lounging with the guilt-guilty girl at this conference table on July twenty eighth on Monday. Today is Friday, August first. On Monday, July twenty eighth, the Vaughn Moody Foundation sent a nice friendly tan colored business letter with their serious green logo. This here letter notified that the hospital of a lump sum cash award of five million dollars. The letter came with two additional items, arriving on Thursday, the month of July on the thirty-first day. Please note the items are all wrapped in a light weight plastic! Because, this is the set of hard core physical evidence linked to this serious criminal crime. But I digress. The two items are a plain single letter of instructions to update the CD into the computer and the CD with the software application. Now, I understand that the software has been maintained on Dr. Munsterberg's computer for many years. This time, yesterday July thirty first, is no exception either. Right, Dr. Munsterberg?" Fucner turned and smiled at Munsterberg. The physician nodded in silence.

Fucner turned and waved the letter at each female at the conference table. "Today on August the first, the Vaughn Moody Foundation is missing all its money from its single bank account at the Third National Alabama Bank which is located down the city street from the hospital, totaling five hundred million dollars." Each female gasped. He nodded with a chuckle. "Your eardrums heard me right. Five, zero, zero, zero, zero, zero, zero, zero, zero million dollars and no point zero, zero cents. We are not only the set of money IRS Agents, but we are also a set of skilled IT architectural programmers which probably don't mean much to you. But, we have been able to back track the criminal's action, since we possess the CD, the letter of instruction, and the computer used which belongs to Dr. Munsterberg. At this junction, let me introduce the investigational party," he spun around and pointed with a smile at the first person in the first chair on the back wall, "My supervisor Eula Gray, Mr. Moody, my co-worker Judd Levenberry. And the Birmingham police detective on-assignment to this robbery case is Morgan Scoggins."

He swung around with a smile to see each female again. "We have combed through the computer's dust balls and wiry circuit along with these three items in my naked hands, finding you, three ladies with a set of individual human finger prints. In order to be employed and paid at this hospital working with young innocent children, each one of you agreed and volunteered to be finger printed and background checked as a criminal or a drug user, Sorry, a little-hearted mean-spirited joke meant to lighten the somber mood."

"Arrest the criminal, Fucner! Stop this nonsense!" Moody sneered at the back spine of Fucner.

Fucner stared at the red haired colored second and middle female. "We have found two sets of finger prints, lounging upon the business letter and the CD, making us very tomcat and kitty cat curious. It makes sense, that you are dubbed as 'Miss Receptionist.' We will not endanger the innocent parties, until the guilty one is found. Miss Receptionist with the red hair, your personal set of ten finger prints were on the letter, the instructions, the outer clear plastic cover of the CD and the CD, itself. You opened the package, from the Vaughn Moody Foundation, since we found the empty cardboard envelop inside your office trash can. You touched the letter, the set of instruction, and the outer shell of the CD, since the police laboratory forensics can magnify and analyze your sweat glands from your ten finger tips. Why would your finger prints be directly upon a metal CD housed inside a plastic sleeve, protecting the CD from invisible germs, non-flowing tears, and your sweaty pads?"

The red haired second and middle female who was nicknamed Miss Receptionist smirked. "The letter stated to verify each item before installing the software onto the computer. Or you will fortify the free monies, if you messed up the CD upload. When B..." Fucner shook a finger at her, not identifying the other employee. She exhaled. "When Miss Social Worker received the package, she and I both touched the letter, the papers, and then opened the CD's plastic sleeve. That's why her prints are on the metal CD, sh...Sherlock," smiling.

Fucner turned and nodded with a stern face at the first female. "And you are on Dr. Munsterberg's machine, making me twice as curious as my tomcat named Tommy. You're a social worker. Right, Miss Social Worker, not a physician? Because your finger prints appear in the numbered most places the two pieces of paper, the plastic sleeve, the CD, and the computer. Why's that, Miss Social Worker?"

Miss Social Worker smiled. "First, I do not like being called in third person. I am an American citizen living here in Alabama with many, many US Constitutional Rights. I want my lawyer."

"It's an easy question, Miss Social Worker," Fucner smiled.

Munsterberg stared with a smile at Miss Social Worker. "She holds a master's degree in sociology, Mr. Fucner. But she also has volunteered as part of her daily job, registering any equipment item that we have purchased with the generously donated monetary funds from the Vaughan Moody Foundation. She records all the equipment purchases on an electronic accounting software package that Mr. Moody requires for his status to remain as a 501(c)(3) Charity Foundation which is located exclusively on my desktop computer. No one else operates the inner guts of that software, but her. That is, her fingerprints are stained along with mine on the keyboard and CD tray. I must compliment the work of our own Birmingham finest for discovering that particular undercover investigational work." He turned and nodded to the police man.

Fucner reached down and tapped on top of the short stack of paper folders that contained data from the three employees which had been provided by the Birmingham Hospital human resources department with a stern face. "One of many answers, but lots more questions. We have clarified that Miss Receptionist..."

Miss Receptionist frowned at Moody. "I want a lawyer too, since I'm an American."

Fucner grinned, "No problem, Miss Receptionist. We have solved the mysterious for two out of three sets of finger prints. The third set of finger prints seem to belong to you, 'Miss Physicist.' You operate the physics equipment...uh..." he turned and stares at the third female.

Munsterberg smirked at the back spine of Fucner. "She is a junior medical physicist, who maintains optimal, safe, and effective patient care, regarding diagnosis and radiation treatment protocols, and determines relative dosimetry characteristics for various types of equipment, oversees the treatment planning system, and isodose verification, provides the linear accelerator beam analysis, the periodic calibration sand maintenance, assists in the evaluation of diagnostic and treatment modalities to maximize the patient's benefit. She also follows all the hospital's health care privacy procedures, the radiation equipment safety rules, and an employee's work regulations. The medical position does not contain any supervisory responsibilities, but a minimum qualification, the possession of a master's degree in physics, medical physics or nuclear engineering as well as a certification by the American College of Medical Physics. The position needs a minimum of two clinical years of job experience in a major radiation center."

Fucner smiled. "You are exposed to a free set of radiation fumes. Ain't them particles airborne toxic to me?" He chuckled with the others inside the enclosed walls with no windows.

Munsterberg smiled. "Radiation exposure is monitored by our film badge for any toxic exposure. She doesn't work with the other talented physicists, being employed for only six months. She computes and verifies the tumor dose for each child inside a small desk, around the corner of this conference room, far out of the way of radiation fall-out, Mr. Fucner."

Fucner jabbed a finger at Miss Physicist with a stern face, "Why is her finger prints upon your computer, Dr. Munsterberg?"

"She was given the assignment, loading the CD onto my office desktop computer. So she must touch the keyboard to do that, Mr. Fucner." Munsterberg smiled at Miss Physicist.

Fucner smiled. "Well then, you, three are the lucky ones as a group of representatives of the general population within this hospital office, touching the dang CD. Since we don't have an outright confession of verbal guilty, then we should apply simple psychology which is the study of human nature. I propose here at Birmingham Hospital that you are only a set of weird outliers. Did you know? Probably not, I'll enlighten. You, three are the westernized educated folks from an industrialized rich democracy which is a weird outlier generated from the general population of folks, here, in the old USA. Some national psychologists have generalized, that folks like to group their natural sleek talents or exposed social traits, from a very slender sub-section of the American population you, three. Americans seem through the eyelids. You, three can't see with the eyelids closed but seem through scientific eyelids of recorded studies of degreed psychologists. They ain't got no other jobs, but the employment grant monies from the US Federal Government, so they conclude that you, you, and you like to hold your own set of little secrets. That makes my job really hard, if you don't wanna cooperation for the wrong doing, so I am here to find the wrong doer. Since, I have found the wrong doing. I put all of you into some sort of reasonable time context, solving this missing money matter. I work, sometimes, with the US Federal Government Agency which is known as the FDA. They monitor all the distributed pharmaceuticals throughout hospitals in the USA to sick folks. In a drug trial, for example, the FDA dictates that a study be conducted using a randomized sampling. It's a sample that reflects only a selective and specific American population, needing a drug or in this instance, touching a CD..."

Moody frowned at the back spine of Fucner. "Mr. Fucner, stop your hogwash! And arrest the wrong doer, now."

Fucner nodded with a smile. "We have successfully traced from Dr. Munsterberg's desk computer, where the download of the five million dollars has been transferred rightly at the midnight hour of August first, American time, into a single overseas bank account to Zurich, Switzerland. Today is Friday, August first in America. However, the calendar date is August second, Saturday, in the foreign country of Switzerland. Yesterday, a very special event had started rightly at the midnight hour, the national birthday party for Switzerland, celebrating since August first of the year 1219. The nation became an independent state like the USA did in the year 1776. The Swiss men and women are right now this mid-day hour, celebrating and partying on the Swiss National Day. Each year city streets and county roads are filled with colorful paper lantern parades, blazing fiery bonfires, and drooping ropes of the plain old Swiss flags along with the nightly fireworks and that dangerous thing. The fun crossbow competition day and night activities are celebrated at the local and national level by all citizens, which is one of their biggest tourism draws for the calendar year."

"The point, Mr. Fucner!" Moody frowned at the back spine of Fucner.

Fucner smiled. "Switzerland is said to be one of the wealthiest countries in the world in both financial and non-financial assets as one of the most powerful economies in the world even better than us. So, the Swiss government exerts a great deal control over their banks, the television stations, and outsiders like we, Americans," he lifted the letter and read out loud. "I will quote by the General Secretariat of Switzerland 'we are closed or fuck off, Americans,'" he chuckled with some of the others.

"Fucner," his boss Eula Gay frowned at the back spine of Fucner.

Fucner grinned. "O. I forget a word. Period. That's all. That's it. That says it. That might not mean much to you, but you see, Mr. Moody can't get his money of five hundred million dollars today, tomorrow, the day, after tomorrow, or the next day, after tomorrow. So, it's okay that the wrong doer ain't confessing here now, since we can't just jet over the Atlantic Ocean to London, England and then hop an airplane to Zurich, Switzerland.

"On Monday August fourth, it is a national holiday for Americans, some ole US president's birthday party celebration. Our USA banks, the US Post Office, and the garbage men get to sleep in their warm beds, during sunrise. But, we have a slightest new problem you, you, you or either all, or one is worth US American five hundred million dollars hidden safely inside a Swiss bank account in your first and last name or a pseudo-name. So, you ain't leaving this room. I mean, you can go out the door for a piss-potty break. But, I mean to explicitly imply is that you cannot go back to your warm beds, until someone tells me, who done it," Fucner stared at each female. "We and them, who are against the wall, including me are going to gossip about each one of you in the next room. Then we, them, and me will return back here. That's plenty of time for one of you girls to figure out who done it and tattle-tale it to me while the rest of you get to go home with paid time off leave. Right, Dr. Munsterberg?" Munsterberg stared at the back spine of Fucner. Fucner laughed. "Okay! We are leaving. So, you can talk and tell each other the lies," he spun around to see the door, leading the other occupants out of the room.

The door closed inside the conference room, leaving the three co-workers alone.

Miss Social Worker whipped out her mobile telephone from the scrubs, turning with a wink at Miss Physicist. "What do you think is happening here, girl best?"

Miss Receptionist whipped out and looked down, tapping on her mobile telephone with a snarled. "I ain't your girl best, Nina. And based on fugly ugly Fucner poorly rehearsed boringly bad grammar words, I believe we are all suspects in this crime."

Nina smiled down at the new text from her boyfriend. "Embezzlement of five hundred million dollars ain't a crime, that's a major bank robbing accomplishment."

"You did it." Miss Receptionist turned and dropped her mouth open to see Nina.

Nina shook a ponytail and stared down at the mobile telephone, "No, girl best! I didn't steal that money."

Miss Receptionist turned and stared down at the mobile telephone with a giggle. "Fucner's not cute. I like that clean shaven co-worker named Judd with the dirty blonde hair. I rock that beach boy bad look. It's youthful and playful..."

"...like a cockie Spaniard puppy dog," Nina smiled down at her new text on the mobile telephone.

"I do." Miss Receptionist smiled down at the new text from her boyfriend on the mobile telephone.

Nina typed on the mobile telephone with a smile. "Fucner has got that ugly hook-nose profile. Scientific researchers have studied and discovered that the outer overall shape of a nose bride displays an innate or intimate specific human emotion, discharging from a person's personality. Since, a person can't change the appearance of an ugly crooked nose into a cute romantic button nose like Cumi's aquiline nose similar to Judd's. That's mean your nose shape is a business person. A snub nose means the person lacks maturity, acting like a little kid all the time. A bulbous nose is a sign of sensitivity. Where a button nose is a pure hearted romantic and a fleshy nose, you're a really generous person."

"Forget, Nina! She has had too many coffee lattés, this morning." Miss Receptionist continued to read the next texts with a smile on the mobile telephone.

Nina read the mobile telephone with a smile. "The hawk-nosed shape famous came from Queen Cleopatra which was both unattractive and authoritative. Fucner's got a hook-nose like a hooked-nose sea snake called an Enhydrina schistose."

"A what?" Miss Receptionist looked up with a grin to see Nina.

Nina continued to read the mobile telephone. "A highly venomous serpent, they don't attack humans. But if your ass gets bitten by just 1.5 milligrams fang venom which is rated four to eight times toxic as cobra venom, then it causes instant death to humans. They're aggressive highly provoked, when a human accidentally finds one along the seashores in the foreign countries of South Asia and Australia. They are active both day and at night. So don't sleep walk, ya'll," giggling.

"Nina!" Miss Receptionist turned and smiled at Cumi.

Nina continued to read the mobile telephone. "They dive more than three hundred feet underwater, staying there for five hours, before resurfacing. So don't drown, ya'll," giggling. "The fangs are four millimeters long. The jaws can stretch wide to consume their supper of catfish whiskers and shrimp tails," smiling.

"I'm hunger for lunch. How about fried catfish from the Pond Shack Hut on Magnolia Street, this afternoon?" Miss Receptionist continued to read the mobile telephone with a smile.

Cumi stared and listened to the other two employees in silence.

"They locate a victim by the two senses of smell and touch," Nina read from her mobile telephone with a smile.

"O. It sounds sexual." Miss Receptionist grinned down at the mobile telephone.

"Their predators are crocodiles." Nina frowned down at the mobile telephone.

"Fucner's nostrils have a beak-like appearance to me like an Indian cobra." Miss Receptionist lifted and waved the mobile telephone in the air at Cumi, who didn't have one.

"Fucner's hair is straight brown-colored without any kinda of wavy strands like that new kind of hair style called the Caesar, where individual male actor likes to intimate a real warrior by prancing around in a short skirt. These actors play roles in old ancient Greek and Roman Hollywood film movies. I liked watching my he-men wand their long handled swords, whacking off their enemy warrior's skulls." Nina turned and smiled at Cumi.

"I want Mr. Gorgeous." Miss Receptionist winked with a smile at Cumi.

Nina smiled at Cumi. "Then I'll take Mr. Non-gorgeous, because Cumi gets the female, being that she's a lesbo. Isn't that right, girlfriend?"

10:04 am

Second conference room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial lighting

Eula Gay, Judd Gray, Morgan, and Neal lounged uncomfortably inside a red colored padded chairs around a round yellowish pine wood table. Fucner stood upright behind the mural wall, wearing a solid white-colored T-shirt with a set of red block letters: IRS. He crossed both arms with a smile. "She possesses a selected behavior pattern, leading to a certain choice, creating a set of certain feelings..."

"Fucner, a randomized FDA sample is all of the above costly, laboriously time consuming, and doesn't play well on the hospital grounds in this scenario. So, why did you mention it, buddy? I'm really confused." Judd turned and stared with a smile at the farm mural of animals, instead of his co-worker Fucner.

"Good enough data concept!" Fucner smiled with a nod at Judd.

"Huh?" Judd frowned at Fucner.

Fucner smiled. "Researchers believe that all the data they collect come from one or maybe two samples of populated human subjects. Then, all that data is labeled as 'good enough' datum. So, good enough data leads to a specific rational generalization that leads to a specific human behavior that leads to a specific thief or in this case the opposite of the specific lie."

"What the fuck, Fucner?" Judd shook a skull with a chuckle.

"Are your referring some type of reverse psychology, Fucner?" Gay frowned at her employee Fucner.

Fucner nodded with a smile to each face. "If our data, in this case our person, is somewhat fatally flawed and biased and generalizes on the wrong suspect, then we have our right thief. Right?"

Judd looked down with a smile and played on the mobile telephone. "I'm recording and noting your stupid-ass approach in my day diary, highlighting it with the shit words: very entertaining and often interesting."

Gay nodded. "Let's start with a series of some basic simple questions. Okay? Do they know each other, Dr. Munsterberg?"

Munsterberg said. "No."

"Do they travel to work together?" Gay asked. Munsterberg shook a skull in silence. Gay said. "Have we touched base with any of their family members, yet?"

Judd read the mobile telephone. "I am paraphrasing here all the numerous voice and text messages into one single neat English sentence. The kin folks are shocked at the money stealing crime but truly feel that both Miss Social Worker and Miss Receptionist ain't smart enough to do the crime of two centuries. And Miss Physicist doesn't have relatives, so we are expanding the posse search for her blood-kin."

"That's two double neat English sentences." Fucner chuckled at Judd.

Gay nodded. "Stay on that! Expand the verbal, written, and electronic investigation into their social networking friends, and bad internet buddies, and finally the good honest folks at church, Judd. Please text that back to Marvin. Okay," exhaling. "What did their co-workers here at the hospital proclaim about the three females?"

Judd looked up with a frown to see Fucner. "Bite my ass, Fucner! That's really on my cell phone. Miss Social Worker is cocky, self-assured, confident, independent, a sweet talker, not mysterious. She knows what she wants. She doesn't care what others think. She knows how to charm your bed slippers."

Morgan, the police officer said. "The second female, Miss Receptionist is a bit dim-witted and a little bit more mysterious. She can put the tiger in your tank. Growl! She's a thrill seeker, a sky diver, alluring lover..."

"I like her perfume," Gay smiled with a nod.

Judd turned and smiled at Gay, "Going a little gay, Gay."

Gay turned and smiled at Judd, "Ha, ha, going a little grey, Gray."

"Miss Receptionist likes risky stuff. Life is never dull around this chick. She rides a motorcycle to work along with off-roading on a dirt bike on some clay dirt around these rural parts near Gardenville. And her co-workers say that she makes them laugh, keeps her personal stories interesting, and amuses her friendly boys." Judd read from his mobile telephone.

Gay nodded, "Third female, Miss Physicist?"

"Ho, hum! Her everyday life is so boring." Morgan read from the Birmingham Hospital human resource paper folder.

"She has a unique way to doing things." Judd nodded with a smile.

Fucner chuckled, "O. Like not talking, not even asking for a lawyer like the first two smart girls did."

"...appears wimpy." Morgan said.

Munsterberg shook a skull with a stern face. "She's shy, which is also a clinical definition of nervousness and she does not like to be around people. She is timid like that mouse, but not really easily frightened. A snake frightens folks. The girl is young and keeps to her person, mostly. Does a great job with the physics calcs? Do not touch my calcs, Mr. Fucner!"

Gay smiled. "Folks experience shyness in an array of varying degrees, Dr. Munsterberg, like in this particular situation, especially in the company of a people wall full of nervous law enforcement officers."

Fucner nodded. "Her visual behavioral traits include no smiling, a tense body language, no eye contact in which all of these are negative..."

"All perceived as guilty as she did it. Just arrest her ass! Enough with this psycho-babble talk! Get this done now!" Moody stood upright from the chair and jabbed a finger with a sour frown at Fucner.

Fucner frowned, "No stereotyping anyone. We live in the good ole USA, where folks are rowdy and raunchy for both fun and profit. Some southern families purposefully raise their southern children in a more slo-mo molasses reserve conservative homey environment that values both quietness and meekness over robust-ness..."

"...or less intelligent," frowned Moody.

Gay turned and frowned at Moody. "A less intelligent individual did not execute this crime, Mr. Moody. A highly intelligent genius did cleaning your entire Vaughn Moody Foundation Bank account of five hundred million dollars, half a billion dollars in a blink of an eye..."

"Eyelash in a blink of an eyelash, since one of the perpetrators is a female," chuckled Fucner.

"So, the next set of fixed variables will be an array of smart intelligent traits." Gay said.

Morgan flipped the papers with a stern face, reading the information. "Good grades, exceptional grades, over achiever, good test scores, too. She graduated with a master's degree in physics. Who's a genius?"

"Who is hiding her emotions, feelings, pains?" Fucner stared at the cute pink colored pig on the far wall.

Judd read from the police report. "She lives a vagabond lifestyle. This is her third rental apartment in three calendar years. Her apartment is used to shower her body, wash her clothes, and sleep inside a queen-sized mattress alone with no male or beast."

Fucner stared the drawn brown colored horse on the same far wall. "Not fair! You're calling her, a what?"

"She is visually attractive, not charming, not social, but loves the chase, not the capture." Morgan said.

Judd nodded, "She's a sociopath."

"...not a crazy person," frowned Gay.

Fucner shook a skull and stared at the yellow colored cow on the same far wall. "Naw, she ain't anti-social. It is more like shy as 'hi, bye' not mine," smiling.

"That don't rhyme, Fucner." Judd read the report with a smile and a chuckle.

"Maybe, she's suffered some kind of financial, social, or emotional matter that's not identified within her HR folder, forcing her to commit the crime of two centuries." Morgan nodded.

Gay said. "Okay? Let's stick our noses up their asses. Is her complex with a combo of genetic, biological, or environmental causes? Did she come from a very dysfunctional family unit, or suffered a childhood abuse, or a head injury, or her mama smoked pot in the eighties? Is she schizophrenia? On prescribed physician's medications? Go and ask those medical, social, and economic questions, officers of the law?"

Munsterberg said. "No. She is definitely not on any type of prescribed medications. The hospital tests for an illegal drug on all of our pre-hired hospital employees during the health screening process along with a nicotine habit. C...she passed," smiling.

Gay nodded, "Aggressive tendencies? Mood swings? Irritability? Criminal behavior? Criminal arrests?"

"The answer is 'no' to any and all criminal arrests, since the rest are unknown based on our limited paper search." Morgan said.

Gay stood upright from the chair with a smile. "Who wants to take home a girlfriend for the evening, Judd?"

Judd smiled with a nod. "I want the motorcycle babe. We got some shared common ground, maybe I can find out some new clues or new leads of the crime of two centuries."

"Good enough!" Gay nodded with a smile.

Fucner clapped with a laugh. "See? The psychology researcher is good enough datum that leads us to a specific right thief."

Gay shook a skull with a smile. "I'll take Miss Social Worker..."

"And I hope you and Miss Social Worker live happily ever after, gay, Gay." Gray turned and fist bumped with a chuckle to Judd.

Gay smiled. "Fucner gets the shy but highly rightly specific suspect with a set of big neurons, who is nicknamed Miss Physicist. Since, he is closest individual to a working non-paid psychologist that we need but don't have, folks. So, Fucner, go and break her down. See? If she'll confess to the crime, then we'll all be happy. Everyone knows their homestead."

Moody cleared a throat with a sissy whine. "I do not understand your code words, Agent Fontana. Everyone knows their homestead. Are you planning to accompany the three females to their individual jail cells in the local police station as well? One of these young girls has all my money. I don't want her escaping to the foreign country of France with my life-time investment."

Fucner smiled. "She'll escape to Switzerland, not France, since the money is..."

Gay turned and nodded to Moody. "Thanks for correcting that point, Agent Fucner. And it is precisely the point, Mr. Moody. The foreign country of Switzerland will not allow one of us or you of you, entertaining anyone or many Swiss bankers during their country's national birthday party. And we're very concerned along with you about one of the young females, eloping with a boyfriend on a private jet from the Birmingham Airport to the Bahamas," she chuckled with some of the others.

"What?" Moody frowned. Judd and Fucner chuckled for a second time.

Gay spun around with a smile to face the door, moving ahead out of the second conference room. "Mr. Moody, we agree with you. Therefore, each one of us will be babysitting, if you want to use that sissy term a female, ensuring that she will not be leaving the city limits of Birmingham. And she will be boarding an airplane on Tuesday morning of August fifth for Zurich and then the bank will identify which female has embezzled your monies. And we all will be happy again. Let's go back into the conference room and tell the females about their new bodyguards."

11:01 am

First conference room setting

Fucner entered the conference room first, following by Gay, Gray, Morgan and then Moody, who stood and blocked the open archway with a sour frown.

Moody was both uptight and upset, not being able to sit, eat, or stand for more than two seconds, because his money had been stolen by one of these bitches, who did not want to verbally confess the evil deed.

However, she did plan to run away from the USA and hide inside the foreign country of Switzerland, living a grand royal life with her sexy boyfriend for the rest of her days foreverly.

Fucner moved ahead and stopped, standing in front of the table, scanning each faces with a stern face. "Ladies, we have conferred about each one of you. Now, it's your turn. Who done it?" Silence echoed inside the room. He cleared a throat without smiling. "Okay? Since the thief doesn't want to confess. We're left with no other alternative but to babysit you, starting right now at 11:04 in the morning, until the morning of Tuesday on August fifth. On Tuesday, all of us will be boarding the second flight at zero-eight-zero-seven hundred hours bound for Zurich, Switzerland. Then, all of us will discover who downloaded the five hundred million dollars from the Vaughn Moody Foundation bank account and then uploaded the millions into her personal bank account in Switzerland. We have drawn long straws as the old axiom goes. Miss Social Worker will bunk with my supervisor Gay Fontana."

Gay lifted and held a set of silver tinted handcuffs bracelets with a smile. "Please stand, ladies!"

Miss Social Worker continued to sit and shook her curls with a sour frown. "Ya'll have got to be fucking me in the wrong position. I am not a criminal. I did not commit this crime. I want my lawyer in here, right now."

Fucner smiled. "Miss Social..."

"I have a name." Miss Social Worker sneered at Fucner.

Fucner lifted both palms into the air with a frown. "Miss Social Worker, please calm down! Let's review quickly. One of you had uploaded Mr. Moody's money into a personal secret bank account in the foreign country of Switzerland. One of you is worth five hundred million dollars, making Mr. Moody very unhappy. So, the hand cuffs are to intimidate you plus make me feel great. However, you will wear them. Or I don't know the 'or' part. Stand up, princess!" Miss Social Worker slowly stood upright from the chair with a sneer.

Gay shuffled ahead to Miss Social Worker, stopped, standing and clicking the handcuffs around the wrist bones of the young girl.

They exited the conference room as Miss Social Worker yelled out her complains, marching down the hallway towards her co-workers and Gay.

Fucner pointed at red haired middle female with a smile. "Miss Receptionist, you get to play with Judd Gray who is nicknamed the 'gray wolf' because of his mean and nasty demeanor. Ya feel me, girlfriend?"

Miss Receptionist stood upright with a smile and shuffled around the table, stopping and standing in front of Judd. Judd leaned over and cuffed the silver handcuffs around both her wrist bones, spinning around, leading her out the room with a big smile, whispering into her eardrum.

Cumi slowly stood and presented both hands without instruction.

Fucner advanced ahead with a smile and cuffed both her wrist bones. "I'm sorry, my sweet. I might need a smaller set of hand cuffs, since your two hard wrists bones are both small and bony. This way please!" He back stepped from her and allowed Cumi freedom from the table and the chair, swinging around, leading her out the room, down the hallway as the other eyeballs and the other moving lips of hospital staff members stared at her.

Cumi dropped her eyelashes down to see the clean carpet and moved out of the building.

12:13 pm

Outside parking lot setting

Very hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Fucner quickly rushed around Cumi and stopped, standing and opened the passenger door for the girl like a good southern boy.

Cumi narrowed her sensitive eyelashes into the bright sun rays, seeing the bright red letters IRS on the side of the car, stopping at the car door, staring at him. Fucner possessed a tone of peach tinted skin, a pair of golden topaz pupils, and a head of dark brown locks of straight hair.

She slid down into the passenger seat. He reached down and clips Cumi into the safety belt for protection, touching her breast with a grunt and a grin, rubbing his facial whiskers into her smooth girly face. She felt the rough whiskers between his pink lips, making her jealous.

He smiled. "Your perfume of vanilla and rose petals is very nice," he stood upright and stared down at her with a smirk.

Cumi looked down with a worried brow to see the clean floor mats as the handcuffs rattled between her kneecaps. She turned slightly red with embarrassment from their brief touch encounter.

He slammed the passenger car door with a loud bang.

Her eyeballs looked up and followed his shadow around the front bumper of the car, not seeing but sensing his entrance down into the driver's seat of the IRS vehicle.

He shut the door and reached down, starting the engine to warm the car, turning with a smile and a wink to see the hair roots of Cumi. "We're going to a secret hideaway, my sweet. You'll love it. I promise, babe."

She stared with a worried brow down at the floor mats and rattled the handcuffs.

He drove the truck into the flow of traffic with a smile and a nod. "I'm hungry. Are you hungry, too? Close to noontime! It is lunchtime for me, babe," he turned and smiled at her hair roots and then the road. "Look. I'm really sorry about this. You can be mad at me, but it doesn't change the situation or the drive or the hideout or me."

She stared down at her sneakers, since Munsterberg made everyone dress alike in black scrubs and matching black colored sneakers. She didn't enjoy the car ride.

He flipped on the car blinker to the right, slowing the speed, whipping the truck into the fast food joint with a smile, "I'm making a lunch run at Dee Dee's Hamburgers. What do you want to eat, babe? You gotta eat. I gotta eat. If you don't eat, then I'll finish your food. How is that?" He stopped and parked, turning to smile at the speaker box.

A female said via the speaker box. "May I help you?"

He nodded with a red, "Yeah! Gimme four Dee Dee's big manly hamburgers with everything," he turned and stared down at the black tinted hair roots on Cumi, "Make that four Dee Dee's big manly hamburgers with everything, three vanilla milk shakes, three orders of fries, and six chocolate chip cookies."

"Does that complete your order, sir?"

"Yeah."

"The total amount is fifty-four dollars and seventy-six cents, sir. Please drive forward to the first window for payment. Thanks for visiting Dee Dee's Hamburgers. Have a nice day!"

He drove the truck around towards the first window of the building and stopped the vehicle, leaning over, guiding towards her...naw...the glove compartment and rummaged through the items. He found the green colored plastic card and sat back, turning to see the cashier with a smile, thumbing at the handcuffs with a chuckle. "She's tamed and potty trained. Don't worry your pretty head about it, dear," he winked at the female cashier. The cashier accepted the plastic bank money card to pay the food order and returned back to Fucner with a smile. He winked with a smiled. "Thanks, honey," he drove ahead to the second window. The food attendant smiled then frowned, spotting the set of silver tinted handcuffs on the wrist bones of Cumi. He reached over and patted the arm of Cumi with a smile. "Do you like my captive, honey? Don't worry, sugar! She's just pretty."

Cumi continued to stare with a sour frown down at the floor mats and rattled the handcuffs with musical tones.

He accepted the food sacks and leaned over, dumping the heated bags into her lap with a smile in silence. She shifted both cuffed hands into the air and then down, hugging the three bags in silence He smiled. "Good thinking, Miss Physicist!" He accepted and placed one of the beverages into her cuffed hands, dropping the other beverages into the convenience cup holders near his elbows, jerking into drive and moved the truck back into busy traffic. He smiled with a nod. "Well, how about thank you, Cumi? That's a unique name from the Bible, right? The Book of Mark 5:14 means to 'rise.' We are done here, little darling. Let's go home and eat you up," laughing.

She continued to stare with a sour frown down at the floor mats, holding all the heated food bags.

He drove in traffic with a smile. "We're on Preserve Parkway, passing Sulphur Spring Road on the right and Grove Boulevard on my left. Why do people name a single roadway with two separate and different names? Now, we curve us to the left with more crop land of weeds and strawberries. I love strawberries. Do you like them?"

She continued to stare with a sour frown down at the floor mats, holding all the heated food bags.

"I like them more on you than me. That's Lake Crest Drive on my left. White Stone Way on both sides of the car and back there on your right is a church. Do you wanna visit the church and make a confession?" He chuckled.

She continued to stare with a sour frown down at the floor mats, holding all the heated food bags.

"We passed Sulphur Springs Road for a second time, since it squirrels like a snake from north to west. Why? I dare not answer. Now, we cross the bridge up, again, and pull the car to a stop. We're turning left into the middle of a knee-high yellow and green meadow patch of colorful wildflowers too. No one lives here, ever," he stopped the truck with a chuckle.

She looked up with a stern face to stare out the window at the skyline.

The passenger door opened. He scooted out the truck and turned, jogging around the front bumper with a smile to her, stopping and stood in front of the passenger door. He reached out and opened the door, extending his hand to Cumi, helping her to stand from the truck seat with a smile over the smooth rock.

The door closed.

Cumi leaned against the metal and stared with a stern face into his ugly nose bridge. He leaned down and wiggled her handcuffs up and down with a smile. She leaned forward into his nose, almost touching his flawless soft skin. He chuckled with a smile. "We're here, baby. This is a great little hideout, where nobody will disturb us for days," he winked. "I get nervous watching over a future criminal. I like that word better than future convict. That's a nasty word, convict. What do you think, darling?" She frowned in silence. He smiled. "So this is to be our future relationship which is dull boring for me," he grabbed her handcuffs and moved backward, leading her towards the edge of the cliff and stopped before falling his tallness off the ledge. She could see the high mountains above the plateau and a river below the limestone cliff without a smile but filled with deep emotions in silence.

He swung around with a smile. "We are 909 feet from the clay dirt on the ground, my lovely. Shades Mountain is a cuesta in Jefferson County. Have you been there? No matter! You are, now. It is a slope. The word 'cuesta' is Spanish for slope. And the isolated lonely bluff is flatter than a pancake with a gently slope on four sides. If more steeped slope, it would be a cliff. Get the difference! O well! The little mountain is bordered by water on all sides. Shades Creek isn't really a tiny creek. It is a river on the west side that flows north into the Shades River. And the east is the Hurricane Creek. But it isn't a creek. It is a river flowing towards the north into Shades River. I repeated that for you. Did you get it?" He spun around with a smile and extended both arms with a nod. "This place is called the Moss Rock Preserve. Guess why? Come on!"

He nodded with a chuckled. "You guessed it, because of rock, different types of rock," he spun around with a smile and pointed at the mountain range. "Over yonder on the other side of Shades Mountain, there is a rock outcropping called Lover's Leap, where an Indian jumped with his princess bride off the Tip Top Grill. This side is Shelby County and that side is Jefferson County. Ain't that cool! The county is divided on this here bluff. Moss Rock Preserve is located within the Cahaba Mountain Ridge within the lower the Appalachian Mountain Range. These big boys peak from New York down to here into Bama. The preserve is divided by the two branches of water, running all the way north between the two big mountains."

He thumbed back over a collar bone with a smile. "Back there, the southern part of the creek flows through Pine Mountain with lots of pine trees. The northern part of the creek cuts through a set of trees and rocks known as the Pottsville Formation. Let's not step closer to the edge! This ridge is the first bluff point on Red Mountain that extends from here in Hoover to Irondale. Within the rocks, you can see the different types of geological formation. I will point you in the direction of south, but I want you to look down at the slope. It goes south straight down into a boulder field. No water. No cushion only the hard light gray limestone. You die, if you jump."

He spun around and scooted around her back spine, shuffling her towards the western edge of the cliff with a smile. "I will point you in the direction of the west. Look down! This is pure shale stone which is vanilla white that drops right into the water about twenty feet. You die, if you jump!" He shifted her with a chuckle towards the object. "This is the direction of north. See there? Coal black as midnight leads right into the water. You die, if you jump. This is the west slope made of pure pink sandstone. Look down! The sandstone is pretty like you. But you die, if you jump," he leaned down with a smile and a whisper into her eardrum. "Do you get all that, my sweet?"

Cumi viewed with a worried brow at cliff slope, the skyline, and the dirt.

He smiled with a whisper into her eardrum. "Good. Cuz, I'm done," he swung Cumi around to face the new object with a smile and shoved her forward with a chuckle. "The only thing on top of the limestone coated cliff is a real log cabin. This is our sleeping spot. The log cabin is made out of logs," he gently slammed her nose bridge into the closed metal door with a smile and a chuckle. "O." He back pedaled and pulled her from the closed metal door. "To finish my geology lecture, these rocks were formed during the Pennsylvanian Period in Alabama. The ancient rocks are 300 million years old. Wished, I had that much money inside my bank account. Ain't that right, my lovely? Wait! You do. You stole all of old man Vaughn's money from his foundation's bank account and then chunked it into a Swiss bank account. You're a smart one, my dear. You stay put. I'm getting our food. I'm starving," he reached down and fuddled with the car key inside the pocket, jerking it into the air and inserted into the door lock.

The door swung inward in silence.

01:04 pm

Cabin location

Living room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with enclosed walls

and artificial lightning

Cumi entered the living room without a smile. He followed behind and banged both kneecaps into her ass with a chuckle. She heard his grunts and his chuckles. He shoved her deeper into the rectangular shaped room with a smile, "Home, sweet home! My lovely, do you want out of your decorative cheap jewelry?" He reached down and dug down into the pocket of the blue jeans, jerking out the handcuff key into the air with a smile and a wink. He reached down and grabbed her arm, spinning Cumi around, unlocking the locked handcuffs. He grabbed and tossed the loose handcuffs on top of the wooden dining room table, landing with a dull thud. She stood in silence and stillness with a stern face. He reached over and grabbed a neatly stack of white clothes on top of the wooden dining room table, spinning to see her face and extended the object towards her chest with a nod, "Your prison gear. Sorry! It's a required dress code for the accused, in case you can try and successfully escape from me, which ain't going to happen, my pet."

She reached over and accepted the stack of folded clothes in silence, cuddling into her breasts.

He pointed above her hair roots towards the empty and semi-dark hallway with a smile. "The last bedroom is mine. But you're very welcome to use first and then abuse me later," he winked with a chuckle, "Or you can use and abuse a second guest bedroom for your lovely selfie, my beauty."

She swung around with a comment and slowly strolled down the hallway, passing the bathroom and stopped at the guest bedroom. She turned and entered the small empty room, closing the door without a set of viewing windows, due to good hydraulic metal door springs.

Fucner watched the prissing ass of Cumi with a smile. She selected the guest bedroom, not the master bedroom. He spun around with a chuckle and rushed out the open archway of the cabin into the outdoors, charging towards the open door of the pickup truck.

He stopped and reached down, gathering the food bags, not worrying about Cumi escaping her hideaway hole with the front door wide open. There was nowhere for her to run away other than the dangerous slope of rock or jumping into the water. Or Cumi could try to steal the truck, if she could successfully and sexually locate and find the single car key inside his stinky underwear.

He spun around with a chuckle at the sexy mental picture and raced towards the open door, entering and slamming the door with a boot. He moved ahead and stopped, standing in front of the dining room table, placing the food bags on top of the surface and turned, moving towards the kitchen for a set of paper plates. He entered the kitchen and gathered the items, returning back to the dining room table and decorated the table with the food items on the plates with a smile.

Inside the hallway, Cumi opened the door of the guest bedroom and stood inside the archway, wishing for a miracle, sliding out into an empty hallway with a stern face. She stared into the semi-darkness, not seeing a spying Fucner. She back pedaled down the hallway and stopped, turning to see the open door of the master bedroom. The master bedroom offered no viewing windows either for some strange reason. Cumi shook a ponytail in confusion and slowly strolled towards the brightly illuminated space in the front of the cabin, where the door was located. The single room represented a living room, a dining room, and a den room which was all rolled into one entertainment space inside the tiny cabin. She moved passed the guest bedroom for a second time. The guest bedroom was painted in peachy-tan color on all four walls with no closet space either, only a queen-sized mattress and bed frame underneath a simple peach-colored cotton bedspread with a queen-sized pillow. She passed the guest bedroom that displayed a sink, a toilet, and a shower tub without a viewing window also.

Fucner stood behind one of the high stool chairs at the tall dining room table and heard the squeaks of sneaker, turning with a gasp, dropping open a mouth. "What the fuck?"

She slowly paced towards an empty chair with a stern face in silence.

He had exchanged his street clothes for a short-sleeved T-shirt, a pair of walking shorts, and a pair of socks, and a pair of sneakers in black color and pointed at her with a sour frown. "What the fuck is this, my darling? You have tossed a pair of white shorts on top of your black colored hospital scrub pants and then covered your black hospital scrub top with the oversized short sleeved white colored T-shirt. That's not the right dress code, my lovely. But it'll pass. I guess. My princess, I must inform that you got tacky taste in the girly wardrobe department," he shuffled sideways and stood behind the stool, pulling the chair out for her like a southern gentleman.

Cumi stopped and slid down into the tall stool as she was impressed with the two-person placement, since she had impressed him with her wardrobe-fun annoyance selection.

The table placement nicely displayed a single white paper plate, a plastic fork on the left side, a plastic knife on the right side, and a sweaty tall Dee Dee's Hamburgers paper cup of melting iced soda which was posed slightly above the plastic knife. A single wrapped hamburger was surrounded with an array of French fries which decorated the center of the paper plate like a pile of golden brown ice crystals. The pair of silver handcuffs gleamed center stage in the middle of the short table for either a show of force or a silly replacement of fresh cut pink colored flowers.

Fucner shoved the chair into the table edge with a smile, "A seat for my tacky lady." He side stepped and slid down into the empty chair, scooting into the edge, leaning down and attacked the food, chewing with a grin. Cumi ate and chewed in silence. He chewed and swallowed the food with a smile. "I bet you feel awkward and apprehensive. You're shy, right? I'm an introvert too, feeling compelled to be alone all the time. I am alone. Your silence makes a deeply profound statement to me, my heart, and my soul." He bit into the second hamburger and chewed, staring at her.

Shy people desired to be around other people but did not know how to interact with strangers, except for their blood family members. He recalled while reading her human resource paper folder that her parents died of a double case of suicide.

He chewed and swallowed the food with a grin. "I like to read. Do you read, my lovely?"

She looked down at the plate and chewed the food in silence.

He smiled. "We might not read, but we have something in common, Cumi. Common, Cumi! Come on, Cumi! That's funny, yes?" He ate and chewed the food with a grin.

She swallowed the food in silence.

He smiled at her black colored hair roots. "I read this great internet article about the top ten tips for better sex..." She dropped the fork down into the plate and looked up with an open mouth at Fucner with a gasp. He smiled with a nod. "It's just girl-talk between us. Use a blindfold. Sexual pleasure comes in many ways. But, I've learned that the best sexual organ is the brain. What do you think about my sex theory, my pet?" He lifted and bit into the burger, chewing with a slight grin.

She looked down with a stern face at the half-eaten hamburger in silence.

He chewed and swallowed the food with a grin. "When one sense of five is blinded, the other senses enhance via the brain waves the other four of sight, smell, touch, and vibrations. Good vibrations!" He wiggled the eyebrows up and down with a chuckle. "The physical and mental blind-folding process actually increases the sensory awareness. What do you think about my sex theory, my pet?" He bit and chewed, finishing the second hamburger.

She stared down at the food plate in silence.

He smiled, "Blinded. Then, you wouldn't know what I might be doing to you or your body, creating both deep anticipation and heighten eroticism. Tease you mercilessly with a sensory object, maybe a soft feather or a softer tongue. Start off softly exciting the nerve endings, making them far more enjoyable by firing up the cold juices of you or your body then creating a new high intensity of deep passion dirty lust." He ate the French fries and chewed with a grin.

She exhaled with a stern face and stabbed the single French fry with the plastic fork in silence.

He chewed and swallowed the food with a smile. "Give her instructions. Every guy-stud thinks he can please his lady-friend. But this is a total myth which is very rarely done, except for me." He ate the food and chewed with a pair of closed lips of a smirk.

She stared down with a stern face at the food plate, chewing with a grunt.

He chewed and swallowed the food with a grin. "For better sex act, I have a lesson session kinda like a mini-session in college. I like to talk about the things you want to try. Then, we chose one and then get down and dirty with the one, you and me, my beauty. For example, I might suggest massaging the feet or the toes or the legs or the thighs. Since, a sensual massage is a sexual touch and one of the most relaxing and sexy things that I can do for you, my lovely." He ate and chewed with a set of closed lips in a grin.

She looked up and chewed at the far wall in silence.

He chewed and swallowed with the food with a grin. "Play dress up like little tiny girls do all the time as fun children. I like to role play. You can become Queen Cleopatra and I'm become Mark Antony," chuckling.

She swung a face to see his nook nose which looked like Marcus Antony's claim to fame in 23 BC besides marrying the Queen of Egypt.

He sipped the beverage and swallowed the liquid with a grin. "Talk dirty! That concept has turned girls on for centuries, because of our provocative mentally filthy mind. I'm a guy. Guys like filthy, dirty, hot brain power. The brain is the best sex organ. When you speak one dirty word, I respond very swiftly. Then, you react. Then, I react. And then, we act together, evoking mixed emotions, deep sensations, and vigorous hot blood flow all over our sweaty bodies. Talking dirty is a talent. And I don't mean shouting out vile nasty words into your face. That's just wrong and raunchy, since only certain cowboys possess love whispers."

She sucked down the soda with a loud slurp and stared at Fucner.

He smiled with a nod. "The number one sex tip for a man is. Do you wanna guess, my sweet? It is to try a new locate for our sex acts."

Cumi stood upright from the stool and held the dirty plate and utensils, back stepping from the table and turned, moving into the kitchen in silence.

Fucner stood upright from the stool with a smile and held the dirty plate and utensils also, back stepping from the table, turning and following her ass into the kitchen. "Having sex, in a new place, gets things excited and a bit risqué. I like having sex on the top of a dining room table or on top of a washing machine," chuckling.

Cumi stopped and dumped all the dirty paper and plastic items down into the trash can, looking down at the clean floor and swung around, tuning out Fucner. Her eardrums absorbed the background noise as she moved into the living room setting. The main entertainment space did not display a visual window of forest, trees, or birds. The far wall held a set of book shelves with hundreds of musical disc for hearing, Hollywood movie discs for watching, and a set of hard copy beautiful manual books for reading. The side wall held a nice set of electronics, consisting of a plasma television. The television was hooked into the movie player for playing a movie or a song.

The other side wall held a set of sitting furniture flush against the solid tan painted wall, consisting of a long sofa, three individual chairs, making the room cozy and comfortable for six adults or four adults and three children.

Fucner dumped the used paper items down into the trashcan and moved to the wash sink, cleaning both hands with soap and water. He dried the hands on the side towel and back stepped, spinning around and moved out from the kitchen.

Living room setting

01:27 pm

He appeared and leaned against the open archway that separated the dining room from the living room, crossing both arms, watching her. Cumi investigated the wall collection of musical, movies and manual books. He chuckled with a grin. "Do you fantasy, Cumi? Tickle your fancy or tickle your fanny? I like both provocative physical feeling suggestions." She reached out and touched one of the musical discs, pulling out a single musical song, reading the artist biography between the plastic cover.

He smiled with a nod at her back spine. "There are hundreds of musical discs. I like the guitar and fiddle songs of country music best. What did you like to hear in music, Cumi?" She replaced back the musical disc and side stepped, selecting a movie, reading the plot of the Hollywood film.

He smiled with a nod at her back spine. "There are hundreds of Hollywood films discs too. I like to see and hear all the horror movies best. What did you like to see in movies, Cumi?" She replaced the movie disc and side stepped, reaching out and touched the power button on the radio.

He smiled with a nod at her back spine. "It is broke." She whipped a hand away from the radio and side stepped to the plasma television with a puzzled brow. Fucner chuckled at her back spine, "I am sorry, my pet. There will be no television for the bad thief. Naw, I shit ya. We big bad US Federal agents share this little tiny log cabin with a unique isolation prison location. The last fugitive was guarded by the team of FBI agents that damaged the working television wiring, making it impossible to see a movie or a football game. And our US Congress has to decide who pays the damage the fugitive, the FBI or the hard-working American middle class," chuckling. She reached over and pressed the button. The plasma television showed continuous blackness while verifying his information. She exhaled with a puff of annoyance, reaching out and touched the movie player, acting like a stubborn fugitive with a smile. He laughed with a smile, "I am sorry, my beauty. The electronics are for show only and no landlines or cells either. Since, you are one of the three suspects of the missing five hundred million dollars. I am here to keep you from accessing one or many outside forces or sources. Do you like my rhyme? In case, you didn't work alone, stealing the five hundred million dollars." She swung around with a stern face and crossed both arms over the words of the white shirt: IRS.

He smiled with a nod. "Man! You and I are up here all weekend inside this little tiny log house like two pioneers. Pioneers had to sleep together to keep warm at night," chuckling. She paced beside Fucner and entered into the kitchen. He spun around and followed her ass with a smile. "What about some delicious sweets to eat? I'm hungry for sweet and sweet things." She stopped at the kitchen counter with a puff and rattled the Dee Dee's Hamburger food sacks, looking for a piece of dessert.

He stopped and leaned against the side wall inside the kitchen with a smile. "I cook and eat. I'm not a bad chef. Did you wanna help me bake a pecan pie tonight? There're lots of free groceries in the food pantry and the cold fridge. I bet you don't cook but do eat. I bet you eat rabbit food and crates of grapefruit. Who in their right mental sane mind would suck on a sour grapefruit? Not, I!" He laughed.

Cumi found one of four dessert cookies, cramming it between the lips, chewing with an open to disgust Fucner and reached over, grabbing an unopened bottle of warm water on top of the kitchen counter. He swung around and moved ahead, passing beside Fucner in silence. She stopped and sat down in the assigned chair at the tall dining room table, drinking to drown down the dry oatmeal cookie that was stuck half-way down a dry throat.

He spun around and followed her ass with a smile, stopping and leaned against the other wall between the living room and dining room, studying her with a smile. "You got a cute head on your shoulders. You're personable. You're smart. You're drawing out that bad girl image way too long, my pet. All the paid researchers write, quote, and publish their paper articles all over the world. The matching bad boy image is alluring, cocky, brash, foolhardy, masculine, exciting, and really unconventional when it is compared to a nice guy image but so boring. What do you think, Cumi?"

She stared ahead at the painted tan colored wall without a window or a piece of art work or a home decoration, only a set of solid cemented blocks of concrete. She could see a set of tiny white particles of chipped and fallen tan paint, coming from the bombardment of outside weather forces of a hot humid summer and a cold icy weather, eating away at the wall paint.

Fucner moved ahead and stopped, sliding down into an empty chair with a smile at her nose profile. "Come on, Cumi. That sounds like a sex act. Come on, Cumi." He snapped the finger with a grin and a nod. "I got an idea. We can play a game like a pair of little kids at school. How about the game: Tag, you're it! I like that childish game. Or a slo-mo game of checkers, since I don't like charades, because I never do guess the right person, place, or thing. And I like to play games, using my tactile finger function," he lifted and wiggled all the fingers with a chuckle.

Cumi rolled her eyeballs and stared back at the far wall, sucking down the bottle of warm water, washing down the rest of the dry cookie in silence gulps.

He reached out and lifted the object near a smile, "Looky here! I got a blindfold to make our play game more fun." He wiggled both eyebrows up and down and the dark colored cloth into the air. "What did you think, Cumi?"

Cumi cut her eyelashes to the dark blindfold and dropped down the water bottle onto the table surface as the water swiftly sloshed over her hand. She swung to see the single front door and back to him with a grin, dreaming of her own wicked mental thought which was a daring escape with his ugly nostrils and his eyelids blinded during a stupid play.

Fucner leaned over with a smile into her cheekbone. "I promise to be a true southern gentleman, the only one in the log cabin, lady. Okay, my pet? How about I place the blindfold over your face..." She slid away from him inside the chair and towards the door in silent fear. He jerked the cloth away from her with a smile. "I am sorry, my beauty. I am the nicer guy. I will show you how the play ground game works. I will place the blindfold over my face. Then, you place any object inside my open hands, so I can guess it." She stared at him in silence. He smiled with a nod. "To play the game, you gotta talk using the tongue and lips with me, to me, or at me. Or we can just sit on the opposite side of the room, reading a book, since the television is broken."

She said for the first time with a grin. "I wanna play. I just don't understand the rules, sir."

He smiled as he was gaining her trust first, and then her confession second. He shook the blindfold in the air with a grin. "I will be blindfolded first. Then, you place a physical object like a musical disc into my open palms. I ask you a series of questions about your selected object kinda like a verbal blind man's game."

She frowned. "I still don't understand."

He smiled. "For example, if you like this object the handcuffs, then you place the object down into my open palms for fun, of course. I cannot see, because I am blinded with the blindfold. I will ask you a series of questions, guessing at the specific object inside my palms. You will verbally answer yes or no. You must present a physical object, not a pretend object. No. No. No. And the object must be inside this room somewhere, so you can see it to answer my research questions."

She smiled, "I got it. Is your object inside this room?"

He chuckled. "Geez, sweetheart, you are a brilliant physicist that has embezzled half-a-billion dollars..."

"No!"

He raised a palm with a laugh and stood upright from the chair, lifting the chair up from the floor, swinging around and toted it into the middle of the living room with a smile. "I'm just teasing you, my lovely, making you feel cozy and warm like a sweet little fuzzy bunny rabbit. Now, you find an object and then place that object into the open palms of my hands. I will gently touch it, posing tons of questions to describe the finite object." He dropped the chair and twisted around, sitting down inside the chair and placed the blindfold over both eyelids, tying it around a skull, looking helpless. She spun around inside the stool and stared at the closed entrance door that led to freedom from the crime and Fucner with a smirk. Fucner was blinded with the cloth over the eyeballs and cupped both hands in front of a chest, showing a grin. "Remember? It has to be a physical object inside this room. I am ready to start asking you questions. Are you ready to place the object into my cupped hands, my pet?"

She smiled at the closed door and then at Fucner with an evil grin, "Are you ready, sir?"

He wiggled side to side with a chuckle inside the hard chair, looking helpless and blinded with the cloth, continuing to hold cupped wrists. "Is your object wet?"

She cut her eyelashes towards the entrance door with a racing heart of anticipation. Her palms sweated as and she turned and stared at Fucner. He would take a few precious seconds to figure out that she had escaped from the little log cabin inside his big ugly pickup truck. Cumi swallowed back down the thick spittle. "No."

He wiggled side to side in the hard chair with a chuckle, holding a set of cupped hand. "Is your object dry?"

Her kneecaps knocked with nervousness of fear and as she smiled. "Yes." If she failed to escape, then Fucner might get really mad and do something irrational. She turned and stared at set of police handcuffs on top of the wooden table with a grin, dashing over and snatched up the item, swinging back around and stopped in front of blinded and helpless Fucner. She slipped the handcuffs of metal over the top of his cupped hands in silence.

"Is your object...?" A sharp pain invaded both the wrist bones, bowing his arms in pain. "Hey!"

She stared with a grin and a giggle at both blinded and chained IRS agent Fucner. "Hay is for horses. I slapped the handcuffs on your wrist bones, sugar. This will make our playground more intriguing, my handsome."

Fucner grunted with a chuckle. "Come on, Cumi." She slowly back pedaled from him and shuffled backward towards the single front door. He smiled. "You might want to place that object physically into my hands right now. That would help me guess it, my sweet."

"Shore, darling," she shouted and moved backward towards the front door. He was blinded without eyeballs sight of her. Her back spine hit the metal door as she spun around with a gasp.

He smiled. "Is your object hard?" She slammed the palms, the forearms, and the pointy elbows into the metal, creating a set of tiny tings, wildly rubbing both hands over a solid metal door. She could not find a door knob or a key latch or a circular key hole to open the door for her brilliant escape plot. He lifted the handcuffs into the air with a laugh and a grin. "I'm impressed, my sweet. You are very good. You agreed to play my game to blindfold and tie me up. I love smartass girls. There is no door knob or door key or key hole, my beauty." She stopped the abuse on the paint with both hands and stared with a puzzled brow at the front door. It was a solid sheet of puke green metal. She back stepped and swung around, marching back to him and his laughing. He dropped a chin down into his chest, lifting a chin up into her heated presence while still blindfolded. "I mentioned before this is a hideaway for US Federal government fugitives, who usually are testifying against some of their badder bad asses. So, we use this place to watch 'em and secure 'em by locking both the US employee and the bad fugitive into one log cabin space. No one comes in. No one gets out," he smiled underneath the blindfold. "The door is flush with the wall. The only way out of here is from the outside. Don't sweat, my pet. We leave on Monday am for a direct flight to the lovely foreign country of Switzerland. My boss lady Gay comes and unlatches the door on Monday, freeing us from the log cabin. I am sorry, darling. You have learned this lesson the hard way, my pet. Life pretty much sucks, if you're a smartass," laughing. She exhaled with a puff of defeat and shook a ponytail, not noticing a flush metal door in front of her eyeballs and her neurons. Her mind was occupied with the crime of stealing five hundred million dollars.

He dropped the cuffed hands with a smile and a chuckle, "Is your object hard?" She did not want to play the silly game anymore but there wasn't nothing else to do, except wait for Monday am. She exhaled with a puff of boredom and turned, scanning the room. He frowned with confusion. "Do ya wanna quit playing the fun game, Cumi?"

Her acute vision zoomed onto a physical object inside the same room, following his silly game rule, for his silly little mind game. She rushed ahead and squatted down, reaching out, grabbing the selected object with a smile and stood upright from the floor, swinging around to Fucner with a grin. "No. I don't wanna quit. I'm sorry for my delay. I have found my physical object. No, it is not hard," she carefully toted the selected object in an open palm with a grin.

He smiled with the blindfold and handcuffs. "Is it hot?"

"No," she stopped and stood in front of Fucner, placing her selected object into his cuffed palms with a grin. "I'm placing my physical object into your cupped hands. So, don't drop it. Or I win the game," giggling.

He frowned. "Is it there? I can't feel it. Is it small?"

"Yes." She smiled.

"Is it useful?"

"Yes," she studied her selected object inside his open palms.

"Is it fun?"

She nodded with a smile and then a frown. "Yes. Take a guess? Wait! What do I get, if you guess totally wrong?"

"A kiss from me," smiled Fucner.

She shook a ponytail but he could not see her sour facial expression. "Wrong!"

"A kiss from you," he chuckled.

"A slap on your face," giggled Cumi.

He frowned. "Way wrong, my vicious pet."

"I know. The loser will cook our supper meal tonight," she nodded with a smile.

"That is an excellent prize! Okay. It is dry and soft and small and useful and fun. It is a...a..." he twisted the handcuffs around one of the wrists, trying to touch the physical object.

"Give up!" She laughed with a grin.

"Naw, it is a...it is a..." he frowned with confusion.

"Surrender, man!" She giggled with a nod.

"Naw, it is a..." he exhaled with a huff of defeat. "Okay, my pet. What is it?"

She smiled. "Do you give up and surrender to the princess, sir?"

He nodded with a sour frown with the hands inside a lap. "Yes, I surrender to the princess." She reached down and untied the blindfold first from his eyelids, not the handcuffs from his wrist bones with a giggle and a grin. He looked down with a puzzled brow to see a tiny object that rested inside the shadow of his fingers, narrowing his eyelids. He moved both palms closer to his face and screamed with fear. "Ugh! Gawd damn it! It's a spider." He twisted both arms up into the air and shook the dead spider out of both palms with a snarl.

"A dead spider," she back stepped from him with a clap and a giggle of victory. "I found it all swiveled up with its tiny eight legs, sticking up in the air near the door frame on the floor. I guess the poor thing got locked inside with that bad ass fugitive too," laughing.

He stood upright and shook the handcuffs with a sneer and a sour frown. "It is your turn, my vicious pet, for the non-heated electric chair," sniggering.

She reached up and unlocked the handcuffs out from his wrist bones with a giggle and a grin, scooting around Fucner, sitting down inside the tall stool and extended her arms to him with a nod. He reached down and locked the handcuffs on her wrists bones and blindfold over her eyeballs with a grin in silence. Cumi smiled. "Is your object inside the bathroom?"

He back stepped from her and turned, encircling around her chair with a sour frown. "My object ain't inside the bathroom, my pet."

She bounced up and down inside the chair with a blindfold and a pair of cuffed wrist bones with a giggle and a grin, "Is your object inside the bedroom?"

He exhaled with a huff of frustration and moved ahead, stopping and stood in front of the book shelf with a sour frown, "The answer is no, my beauty. It is not inside the bedroom or your bedroom or your bathroom or my truck or outside underneath a rock. My little dang object is inside this room with you and me. Does that answer your ten next questions, my lovely?"

She bounded up and down inside the chair with a blindfold over the eyeballs and a pair of cuffed wrist bones with a grin and a giggle, "Is it big?"

"No."

She sneered. "Is it small?"

"Yes."

She smiled. "Is it wet?"

"No.

"Is it dry?"

"Yes."

"Is it soft?"

"Yes."

"Is it long?"

"No."

She smiled in the blindfold. "Is it short?"

"Yes."

"Is it cold?"

"Yes."

"Is it hard?"

"No."

"Is it useful?"

"Yeah."

"Is it fun?" She smiled in the blindfold.

"Yes." He chuckled.

Cumi recalled the free-standing lamp at the end of the long sofa, thinking about the delicate light bulb inside the socket of the lamp and asked with a smile. "Is it smooth?"

"Yes."

"Is it rough?"

"No."

"Does it have energy?" She exhaled with a puff of frustration.

"Yeah."

"Is it alive?"

"Yeah," he chuckled with evil.

She gasped, "It betta not be a live..."

"...spider like you gave to me. Good thing! It was dead, my lovely. There are biting small poisonous brown recluse spiders, hanging around in here, too. One fanged bite spreads their venom, eating away your healthy muscle tissue, unless properly treated by a medical doctor."

"I got a doctoral degree. I am a doctor, who can fix you right up, buddy," she flirted with a giggle becoming more relaxed and comfortable with him.

He smiled. "O. Like, you fixed up your person right up with the free and available five hundred million dollars."

"I didn't embezzle the money," she frowned.

He encircled her chair and watched her body language with a nod. "I work for the IRS agency, my lovely, for many, many years, learning, growing, and changing with the invisible two hands of the computer financial technology, of course. The invention of the internet and the growth of US Federal grants in the form of free money. My beauty, the temptation is too great and too easy to pass up for one smart PhD."

She frowned. "I did not embezzle the five hundred million dollars."

He continued to encircle her chair and sweet breathed down on top of her black colored hair roots. "I work in the IT Division of the IRS office, creating and building a set of computer software programs. I can link like magic a bank account to a second bank account by and passing the security protocols with ease, because I'm both a smartie and a smartass, without the PhD."

"I do not have the five hundred million dollars. I don't wanna play anymore," she rattled the handcuffs with a sour frown inside the blindfold.

He exhaled with a huff of defeat and stopped, standing directly in front of face that was blindfolded and her cuffed wrist bones with a smile. "I'm done with the quick cyberspace thievery interrogation. I'm placing my physical object into your hands. Open your fingers wide!"

She jerked both hands into both breasts, shaking her curls with a worried brow inside the blindfold. "It's not a live insect."

He smiled. "I promise, my lovely. I'm not vicious like you. I'm placing a very gently object, very tenderly like holding a precious baby. Please, extend your palms to me, my beauty." Cumi slowly extended her breathe and her open palms to his heated body in front of face. He leaned over her black hair roots and placed his selected object into her open palms, carefully sweet breathing, watching her body language.

She felt the selected object and tapped on the object with a puzzled brow. "I feel a pulse."

He smiled with a nod over her black hair roots. "Yes, can you guess my physical object?"

She rubbed his selected object with all fingers with a confused brow. "It is soft, firm, short, and heated. Hmm!"

"Come on, Cumi! Can you guess my physical object inside your two palms?" He smiled over her black hair roots.

"Gimme a second! It feels like...like..." she continued to felt his selected object with a puzzled brow. His hand reached down and attacked the blindfold, jerking the cloth from both her eyeballs. She looked down with a gasp at the object and screamed in fright, holding onto his selected object. "Gawd. O gawd. O gawd. O..."

"My penis," Fucner snorted with a grin and stood slumped over black colored hair roots, wearing the shirt with the words IRS over a chest, but he was naked from the pelvis down to his twin shins. Fucner had dropped down a pair of black running shorts and the white underwear briefs around both ankles, wearing the socks and the sneakers. Cumi scanned his nakedness, dropping open a mouth, breathing oxygen rapidly. He could not move his penis from her set of cuffed hands, without breaking the delightful sensation and fun experiment of his clever ploy. He smiled with a grunt of lust. "You are having a panic attack, doll. That is normal, seeing a manly dick for the first time, ever. Breathe in! Breathe out! Do you want a glass of water, my pet?" He chuckled with a smile.

"Don't...touch...me..." she continued to hold and stared down at his wiggling penis.

"Actually, you are touching me. And it is very nice, my pet!" He tossed a skull backward and sung off loud with a grin and a grunt of laughter. "O. Aw. O. Aw," he looked down with smile at her black colored hair roots.

"Get...it...off...now," she exhaled with a puff of annoyance and continued to hold his penis.

"Hold your sweet breath! That stops your heart from racing out of the rib cage." He smiled. She gulped the air and continued to stare at his penis inside her open palms that were handcuffed. He chuckled over her sweet breath. "Good! It works now! Release the air slowly, until both your cheeks deflate and then breathe in one single puff, more slowly."

"No," she exhaled with a puff of annoyance and continued to hold on his penis. "Release me!"

"You didn't guess my physical object. Say it!" He did not move his nakedness, enjoying her soft fingers that twirl and tickle around his penis.

She yelled with a sour frown and continued to stare down at his penis. "Take the cuffs off me."

He did not move with a chuckle. "I like it right here. Well, my penis seems to like it right here much more than I," laughing.

"Get it away from me," she pulled back both of the cuffed hands away from his penis, but the handcuffs twisted around her wrist bones instead. Her wrists interlocked around an expanding penis of lust and pleasure of her soft hands. He was getting sexual excited with her set of twisting fingers, tickling his dick. She groaned with fury and fear, performing her first penis massage.

He chuckled with delight. "Since, we, three are all acquainted, now. I think that we have some free time to perform a clinical trial..."

"On what?" she exhaled with a puff of annoyance and continued to stare down at his penis.

"We will perform a clinical trial on a set of penises. Okay, the test will be on one penis unless you got a hidden secret that I really need to know about Cumi," laughing.

"Fuck you, Fucner!" she frowned down at the expanding penis.

"Yeah, maybe, after the clinical final trial, my pet," he chuckled. "Measuring a penis size is pretty simple. However, I prefer to use the bone pressed scientific method. You take a hand and then press it against the male public bone, very firmly. Every guy has some fatty tissue around the bone. Fat can actually hide the length of a truly big sized penis, my lovely," he grinned down over her black colored hair roots.

She exhaled with a puff of annoyance and continued to stare down at his penis inside her cuffed hands. "Release me."

He smiled. "Let me help you there, my pet. Since, this is your first time involving a penis clinical trial." He reached down with both hands and pressed her right middle finger down to the bottom of his penis and then held her right palm against his soft sperm-leaking, sticky pulsing organ. She felt the heat, the softness, the firmness, the live pulse, the wetness, and a tall bone from his fully extended penis erection. He tossed back a skull with a grin and closed his eyelids with a loud grunt.

She continued to stare down at his penis with fury. "Stop that! Remove my cuffs right now!"

He dropped back down a chin and reached down, shifting all her fingers further down his penis with a grunt and a grin. "Next, press your hand against the base of my bone. Feel it! Uoo. Okay! Well, I can feel it and then mark my penis erection which is the length, coming from your middle finger while going passed your wrist bone. Wow, my beauty! That is meant for you, not my beautiful dick. That is long. I mean, I am very long," he smiled. "That is what about eight inches in math numbers, my lovely." He held both her hands hostage against the length of his dick with a laugh and a grunt of lust.

All her finger pads twitched and tickled the soft flesh, making him giggle and grin. "Remove the cuffs," she continued to stare down at his dick with a sour frown while her hands were cuffed.

He studied his dick with a smile. "My dick length is no more than eight inches. I am so sorry to disappoint, my lovely. But, there are a set of male penis enhancement programs thou. So, we will work together on one of the latest method. Right, my pet?"

"Stop calling me those silly names and stop touching me, asswipe," she exhaled with a puff of fury, not being able to release his dick from her handcuffed hands.

"I am bodybuilding my family treasure like measuring your growth height. When you were a little kid, your growing body was measured by a set of math numbers on the living room door frame at your parents' house."

"Now, Fucner!" She continued to stare down at his penis with a sour frown. His penis was a nice peachy-tone cylinder shape, bouncing up and down with anticipated excitement of exploding with an array of his hot sperm.

He chuckled over her black colored hair roots. "I'm very excited down there. So, you can just ignore the visual bubbling of a super-heated human volcano, Cumi. I usually handle the technique my selfie for my past penis clinical trials, but you are sitting right here next to my penis. We don't have anything else to do for the rest of the night, since the damn TV is broken. So, we advance to the next step of the penis clinical trial. Let's measure my girth. I like to update the penis chart on my cell," he dropped the mobile telephone from an armpit down into his open palm and then removed a hand from his dick, wiping the leaking sperm on his clean shirt and then swipes on tiny screen of the mobile telephone. He played with the penis application on the phone with a smile and a chuckle.

Cumi moaned with a sour frown, "Gawd, I'm a victim of abused freakiness. Release me, Fucner!"

He read the tiny screen of the mobile telephone while accessing the internet information with a smile. "Gently wrap your index finger and thumb pad around the thickest part of my penis, marking it by touching both of your finger pads together. That's it, my beauty." He reached down and led her right hand over the top of his penis, gliding her index finger over the bubbling liquid of the dick head. He curved her thumb pad around into a circle.

She felt the softness and firmness, pulsing from the fleshy penis within the sensory nerves of her two finger pads, yelling with fury. "Stop it! Release me right now!"

He held her index finger and anchored it down onto the thickness of his dick with a smile and a loud grunt. "Uoo! That feels so, so, so good, too. Whoa! And lookie there! You can't even touch your two finger pads into a completed circle of my dick. Man, I've growth into superman, the man of soft steel. Do you love my good humor, my pet?" He lifted her hand up from his penis with a loud grunt of lust and a smile. "Let's imitate that incomplete circle, stretching your index finger and thumb pad, so I can calculate my EG. That is erect girth. I have to use the cell screen near your semi-circular shape, measuring the visual image and then snapping a cell phone picture," grinning.

"Remove the cuffs, fucking Fucner," she exhaled with fury and watched. He was having too much fucking fun at her trapped expense.

He smiled with a loud grunt of her soft fingers, "Now, the fun part begins. An average guy's erection has a penis length of 5.5 to 6.3 inches. I am definitely an overachiever with a math measurement of eight inches, my lovely. I read that less than two percent of all guys are eight inches or longer," he smiled over her black hair roots, "Now, the girth range is between 4.5 to 5.1 inches," he hummed with a song and lifted a hand working the calculation buttons on the tiny screen of the mobile telephone with a smile, "Wow! I am 1.7 inches based loosely on your slender finger ruler. So, 1.7 divided by 3.14 equal 5.414 inches which is out of the roger-dodger ball park, my beauty," he smiled. "You are definitely a very good luck charm for me, my pet."

"Release me right now, fucking-ass Fucner," growled Cumi.

"We have finished the penis clinical trial. All our gathered and collected penis information is important for ordering my condoms to determine which one is the best usage for my superman penis. Is it the latex or the polyurethane or the lambskin? I'm always in a quest to find that perfect condom," chuckling.

"Remove the cuffs right now, fucking-ass Fucner!"

"I want to find the perfect condom to fit my perfectly sized penis."

"Now, Fucner!"

"If the condoms are too big, then they fall right off. And the ones too small, they can break. Since, I'm so dang big at eight inches, my beauty. Walruses are the largest pinniped, not pimped. 'Pinni' means that a walrus can walk on its fins like a man on his legs with the biggest dangest penis in the mammal world. Unbelievable, ain't it?"

"Remove the cuffs right now, fucking-ass Fucner!"

"Almighty God made the man's average penis to fit nicely into a woman's average depth of a vagina about six inches. We should conduct a new clinical field trial to gather, measure, and collect your vagina depth for safety," he laughed.

"Now, Fucner!"

He exhaled with a huff of frustration and studied down at his penis that was locked inside her open and locked wrist bones. "O man! Now, you did it. My big penis is shrinking before my very eyes. That's because it's cold inside this little tiny log cabin. But, I bet you can warm me back up, Cumi. Come on, Cumi! Come on, babe!"

She growled. "Untie me right now!"

He back stepped and jerked out a wrinkling penis from her open palms, pulling up the clothes over his dick. He swung around and moved ahead, shaking one leg with a chuckle towards the high table, grabbing the cuff key and pivoted around with a smile, moving back to her with a nod, "Shore, my lovely. You have been a dream helping me with my penis clinical trial. I learned from a few past clinical trials that swimming always makes my penis shrink. Do you like to swim, my lovely?" He stopped and stood in front of her.

Cumi held out both wrist bones. He reached down and unlocked the pair of handcuffs with a smile, letting the cuffs fall down into a hand. She stood upright from the stool and dashed ahead towards the hallway, waving blood into both arms with a sour frown in silence.

He spun around with a smile to see her ass. "Penises can vary in measurement due to stress, fatigue, frequency of sexual activity, and arousal levels."

She turned and disappeared around the wall corner and into the darkness.

He laughed with a nod at the wall. "Remember? You need to wash off both of your dirty sticky stinky hands with my sweet sperm magic, dear. You need to comb your pretty long hair, honey. You need to brush your food stained teeth from eating your oatmeal cookie, sugar. And you need to make the bed after your cat nap, sweetheart," he moved ahead into the kitchen and stopped, standing in front of the wash sink, washing the hands with a smile. He dried the hands and squatted down, setting up the pans and pots for the evening supper meal. He could cook and liked to eat, maybe she wanted to eat too. He fiddled with the different boxes of canned food with a hum of a musical tune.

Kitchen setting

05:05 pm

He cooked the meal, prepared the table, and then waited for Cumi. She moved down the semi-dark hallway, smelling the good food and stopped, sitting down at the table to eat the supper meal in silence which had been provided by Fucner, without a prayer or a thank you.

He ate, chewed and swallowed the food, studying her nose profile. "What happened to your hair?"

She chewed and swallowed the food with a stern face at the far wall. "I washed it."

"It's curly and free. Why do you wear all these gooey hair gels onto your locks, since your hair before was slicked down look like a gangster?" He ate and chewed the food.

"It's a requirement by Dr. Munsterberg that all the female staff look like a set of drilled dancers with matching outfits and hair buns so not to scare the children. They are traumatized enough seeing the big ugly room and bigger machine that's going to burn their precious skin."

"Gotcha," He nodded with a smile.

They finished the supper meal in silence.

Fucner stood upright from the chair and cleaned off table of dirty dishes as a good housekeeper. He slowly spun around and sat at the table. She ate and chewed the dessert. He ate the dessert in two bites and chewed, swallowing with a smile. "Do you wanna play a game of cards? Go Fish? Gin Rummy? Hearts? Poker? Do you know how to play a game of poker?" He stared with a grin at her shirt that covered a pair of medical scrub pants and probably a pair of girly sexy pink lace panties.

Cumi was a precious virgin and smelled of sweet honeysuckles and acted like sweetness. "No," she chewed and swallowed the food, eating another bite.

He pouted. "Well, that leaves strip poker off my play list. How about some Black jack 21? Do you know that an easy number card game? Can you count up toward the number twenty-one, my lovely?" He laughed.

"No."

He slammed a new pack of playing cards onto the table surface and opened the playing cards, shuffling the cards with a pair of expert hands and a grin. He exposed the top card of the card stack near a chest and then the second card beside her elbow with a chuckle. He repeated with a second card, not showing the face of the playing card. She chewed on her dessert and stared at the bare wall. He flipped the cards and pointed down at the objects. "I pulled out a six of diamonds, a nine of clubs for me, a seven of hearts and a king of diamonds for you. It is really easy, my beauty. You pull two cards from the deck stack and then who gets closest to the mathematical number twenty-one will win. Your two cards add to the math number of seventeen, so you win. See my pet, you are on a roll," laughing.

She chewed and swallowed the food with a stern face. "O. Roll of tissue paper with puke green pookie dookie."

"Are you still mad about my..." he scoops up the cards, discharging them to his right side.

"No."

"...object of your sting. Ya can come and sting me at a game of 21. Get me back!"

"No."

"Did ya play the card game of Strip Poker, as a mischievous teen, my pet?"

"No."

"I would show you my panties, but they ain't pink, my lovely."

"No."

"How about I make the stakes better for you than me?"

"No."

"How about I happen to lose your body on the way towards the international flight to Switzerland on Monday morning," he wiggled both eyebrows with a grin. She looked up and parted her lips at him. He nodded with a smile. "The Birmingham Airport is massive. We will in located in a different seat since we travel on the same flight. They won't know that you are missing until the plane lands in a foreign country, far away from the USA," he taps on the new set of poker cards. He winks. "I mean. You got a thirty-three percent chance that you had stolen the five hundred million dollars. Ain't that right, beauty?"

She narrowed her eyelashes at him with a sneer. "Do you really promise? If I win the strip poker match, then you will purposefully lose me at the Birmingham Airport terminal on Monday morning at seven am?"

He stood upright from the chair with a smile and removed the shirt, exposing a muscled naked chest with a nod, "I am fair and square. But, you honestly have got to win the game of Blackjack 21. There will be no extra points, no free giveaways, and no substitution of the playing card or cards. Do you agree with the new rules?"

She looked over and scanned his clothes with a stern face. He wore a pair of walking shorts, a pair of underwear, two socks, and two sneakers, a total of six bidding items for stripping down a body into total nakedness, losing the match to Cumi. She smoothed both hands over her clothing items down to the kneecaps, consisting of two layers of clothing outfits. The outer layer was the required prisoner's garb of a black long T-shirt and a pair of oversized black tinted running short. She wasn't given a pair of black socks or a pair of black sneakers to match his attire.

Cumi wore the required medical uniform, consisting of a black scrub top over a black turtle neck cotton shirt and a bra, since the room temperature inside the medical department was set at freezing, keeping the bad germ bugs off the autoimmune cancer kids and adults. She wore a pair of white, not pink tinted panties underneath the scrub pants. So, she possessed eleven items when compared to his seven clothing items which composed sixty-four percent of her total wardrobe between the two adults.

The odds were definitely ruling in her favor.

Sh slams both palms onto the table surface with a nod and a grin to the new game of chance without words. He smiled with a nod. "That is excellent, my pet. There are fifty-two regular playing cards with two jokers. I called the jokers the wild cards so that makes fifty-four total card counts. I will allow the jokers to represent any math number you need to add up to the math total of twenty-one. But, you can't go over the math number of twenty-one. Or you will lose the game and a piece of clothing. Do you understand and agree with the new rules?"

She studied the exposed card eager to finish the short poker game for freedom. With fifty-four playing cards, there will be two or three combinations of individual cards, making up the total math number of twenty-one.

He had pulled four cards from the original fifty-four card stack, so there were fifty cards left to determine a final winner. If each match used four cards for two players, then there would be twelve more rounds.

She softly whispered, "Yes."

He smiled. "Normally, a dealer deals out the individual playing cards. Since, there's a life on the line, I'll allow you to touch and draw your own set of twenty-one, showing both fairness and honestly. And since, this is going to be relative short and fast. We will each lay the card face up for all eyes to absorb, making for a more intriguing battle. Isn't that right, my pet? Do you agree?"

"Yes."

"And..." smiled Fucner.

She exhaled with a sour tone. "How many rules are you going to make up, fucking-ass Fucner?"

He laughed. "A really fun one, if the card player displays a perfect math number of twenty-one, then two pieces of the clothing articles is stripped. Do you agree?"

She looked down at the exposed card. "Yes. Let's play right now!"

He smiled. "That is excellent, my pet. The winner of last hand gets the next draw on the top card in the playing stack. You won the last hand. So, go fishy with your sticky fingers," he carefully watched her body language.

She reached out and flipped the top card up from the deck, slamming it down on top of the table surface. The card hand displayed ten of spade, two of hearts, and five of clubs. "Hold 'em at seventeen," she giggled with a grin.

He looked down with a smile, showing the card hand: A, 6, 5 = 21. "I have a deuce, a sex card, and a fever card."

She exhaled with a puff of annoyance. "Do you have to sling slang the playing card names instead of reading the math numbers like a normal person?"

"Yeah," he reached out and drew a ten of diamonds and an ace of hearts. "T card and a pig's eyeball equal twenty-one. Remove two items of your clothing, doll," he nodded with a grin.

She stood upright from the chair with a giggle and wiggled off the black colored IRS running shorts, exposing the pair of black scrub medical pants, without exposing her girly panties. He frowned in frustration. She dropped down on top of his shirt over the eating table and slowly peeled off the black tinted IRS shirt, tossing it into the pile with a smile, "You said a pig's eye. An ace is properly called a pig's eyeball."

He pouted with a sour frown. "Hmm, I am playing with a card shark."

She winked, "I'm more like a card humpback whale."

He reached out and drew out each card, showing the numbers: 8, 2, 4, 4 = 18. "I have a total of eighteen, my pet."

She drew her out the cards and showed the numbers: Q, 3, 5 = 18. "A tie," she laughed.

He shook a skull with sour frown. "No tie! We each draw one card adding to our current total math number of eighteen. The hand that doesn't bust wins the match. Do you agree?" He reached over and wiggled his fingers over the next top card.

She reached over and slapped his hand down onto the wooden surface with angry, "Naw, doll! I don't agree. It is a tie like in a sporting game. No one loses. No one wins. No clothes are coming off our bodies." She nodded. He nodded in silence. Cumi said. "Discharge these cards, please! Then, it is your draw, cowboy."

He discharged the used cards and flipped a set of new cards: 3, 7, 6 = 16. He smiled. "I have a total of sixteen and I will hold here."

She smiled with a nod. "Okay. Please draw again!"

He shook a skull with a sour frown. "Naw, I take my odds that you can't beat that."

She reached over and drew out each card, showing the number: Q, 2, 2, 3 = 17. "A queen in the poker game of cards equals the value of the math number ten. I win." He exhaled with a huff of annoyance and flipped off the diving watch from a wrist bone, gently placing it inside the growing pile of clothes. Cumi gasped with a smirk at the diving watch. She hadn't thought of non-fabric items which were loosely attached onto her body. She didn't wear a set of earrings, since her earlobes were not pieced which would have given her a bigger advantage in the one-time Blackjack 21 game for her freedom of jail.

He sneered, "Fine! Let's double our pleasure, my beauty."

She turned and sneered at him. "No."

He smiled. "There are four jokers within the remaining stack of playing cards. If you get really lucky, drawing a joker which I have mentioned before can represent any number between one to twenty to win the match game, then four pieces of clothing are stripped down and out from your upcoming nakedness of cuteness little body," grinning. She turned and stared at the far wall. The poker game would be shortened in time, but the winning odds would much lower for her, since there were four jokers up for grabs. Cumi sliced her eyelashes back to a smiling Fucner with a nod in silence. "Draw your card," Fucner smiled.

08:11 pm

Hot temperatures with dull sunlight

She reached out and drew up each card with a stern face, "I possess the six of hearts and the ace of clubs for a total sixteen."

He reached out and drew up each card with a smile. "I got the jack of clubs, the ace of clubs which adds to the total twenty. Yeehaw! It is another win to me. Take it off, doll!"

She stood upright from the chair and removed two sneakers, tossing each one into the growing pile of clothing on top of the dining room table, sitting back down with a stern face and reached out, drawing out each card. The card hand showed: Q, 2 = 12. She smiled. I have a total of twelve."

He reached out and drew each card with a smile. His card hand showed: 5, 7, J = 22. He frowned. "I got busted with twenty-two. Damn!" Fucner stood upright from the chair with a snigger and ripped off the pair of running shorts while embarrassing Cumi more than him and slapped the item into the growing pile of clothes with a laugh.

She reached over and drew each card, showing a card hand: 4, 4, 5, 5 = 18. "I have the total of eighteen."

He reached over and drew each card from the deck, displaying the card hand: K, Joker = 21. "A cowboy and his joker card for the winning total of twenty-one, I win. Take it all off cowgirl! Yeehaw! The last four items that hide your naked cuteness, consisting of your scrub top, your scrub pants, your bra, and drum roll, please, your girly pink tinted panties," he stood upright from the chair and danced side to side with a hum and a chuckle of victory. She reached out and touched the top of the next card. He stopped the dance and reached down, slapping down her hand with a sour frown, "What are you doing, my lovely? You are required to deposit or down or take off four separate items. Pronto!"

She smiled. "If I pull the first top two cards from the deck and it matches the number twenty-one, since there is one more joker left. Then, it is a draw. No one wins," nodding.

He frowned, "The answer is no, my pet. That changes all the rules of the poker game."

"And if the two cards do not equal the exact math number twenty-one, then the rule still applies. I am required to strip off four items from my cuteness. How about that new rule, sir?" She giggled with a grin.

"Well, I can see that you can't get mad at me for losing, then stomping your pretty throng out that locked puke green metal door towards my pickup truck, hot wiring and stealing it. Well, okay! But, no more changing the VIP single rule." She drew the top card and slapped down an ace of spades with a smile. He looked down with a stern face at the card and her. "You drew out the death card," then he turned and stared at the deck of cards. She reached out and drew out the card, facing it down and whipped it to her face with a smile.

He shook a skull with sour frown. "What's it? It can't be the fucking joker. Hell naw! No sir!" She slammed down a nine of diamonds next to an ace of spades with a stern face. He smirked with a laugh and a clap. "You received twenty, not twenty-one, my lovely. Now, remove four articles of clothing, since I drew a twenty-one and won the match."

She stood upright with a nod and slide off a pair of black hospital scrubs pants. He chuckled and clapped with lust. She wiggled out of the black turtleneck and stood upright in a pink tinted bra and a matching throng with a stern face.

He grinned with a clap and a nod. "Come on, Cumi! Pay off and take off."

She lifted a hand and ripped off a right eyelash and then a left eyelash with the other hand with a giggle and a grin, gently placing each item into the tall pile of growing clothes.

He frowned down at the two deformed black eyelashes on top of the clothing with a sour frown. "F..." he laughed with a smile, "A false eyelash, a false eyelash, you got me with a pair of false eyelashes from your eyeballs. You're very good, my beauty. However, two more games and then I win."

"Or one more game, I win," she sat back down with a grin and a giggle, bouncing up and down inside the stool.

He stood upright in his boxer underwear and reached out, flipping up and slammed the card onto the wooden table with a laugh and a smile. "I pulled out the joker card. I win by default. The next card no matter will mathematical add to twenty-one, baby. Lose it, my lovely. Gimme me! I wanna feel your silky pink throng between my soft fingers."

"Fuck you, Fucner!" She stood upright from the chair with a stern face and back stepped from the table, folding both arms under the armpits and twirled around towards the long sofa, moving ahead and sat down on top of the fabric. She stared at the far wall with sobs and tears of worry.

Fucner exhaled with a huff of worry and reached over, digging down into the pile and pulled back, replacing back on a body the running shorts. He side stepped, spinning around, slowly moving ahead into the entertainment room and sat down next to her without touching her with a stern face. "I am so sorry. You win."

She softly said between the tears. "I don't have a daddy or a mama. I'm all alone in the big world, since they died and passed to heaven, without me. I still feel the grief. My parents both committed suicide, shortly after my graduation of college. Graduating college at twenty-one, it was shaping my personality for the rest of my remaining days on Earth. I feel angry for losing the bond of love. I am numb for losing the touch of love. I live in isolation for losing the kindness. And empty empathy affection of love. Instead, I stored the deep rage and torment, suppressing my wants, my needs, my desires. My fears of abandonment, emptiness, loneliness consume me. These raw feels enable me to live, every hour, without my kind and tender-hearted parents. It is unbearable like losing my sense of selfie."

He exhaled with a huff of frustration. "I am sensing a hurdle in your emotion flower bed of pretty yellow weeds. You can be open and honest with me. I have been observing you and you are definitely normal."

She sobbed with regret and distress in tears. "I didn't embezzle the money. I didn't do anything wrong. I did upload the money using the computer software from the Vaughn Moody Foundation, not my job, just my computer programming talent skills. Now, I'm going to spend the rest of days in a cold gray jail cell for doing my job right."

He frowned, "Hmm!"

"Who am I? Not a thief. Where am I? Not a prison."

He nodded with confusion. "Was it a failed relationship? Naw. A childhood hurt? Naw. A medical problem? Naw. An emotion conflict? Maybe?"

She sobbed with more tears. "My parents died when I was twenty-one, completing my education, starting a career, trying to establish a love relationship."

He leaned over and hugged her with a stern face. "You need some TLC. Stand up, honey!" He stood upright from the sofa and leaned down, assisting her to stand with a smile.

They turned to the side and moved ahead, slowly strolling down the semi-dark hallway.

Master bedroom setting

09:01 pm

His nakedness rested upon her nakedness between the soft bed sheets. She held the bed linen between both nervous hands with a worried brow. "Are sex and intimacy different?"

He reached over and caressed her soft cheek with a smile, "Hmm, in a traditional relation of a boy and a girl, sex comes with the long-term commitment plus roses and candy, and then maybe a flashy gem stone. In the traditional marriage, sex creates an intimate connection between the husband and the wife, usually leading to procreate...you know...a baby that looks like you. Intimacy is the heart of a relationship, feeling the unlimited freedom to fuck on the sofa or fart in your face, making it your emotional state of mind. Sex is a physical act and a loving act for a wife of her husband or the husband of her wife," he dropped a finger down to her throat. She shivered with part nerves and part lust. He smiled. "You are tense that hinders your energy flow and locks up that explosive orgasm, which you will want to feel. No steel chains or leather whips here with me. I promise. I don't like painful sex, only pleasurable sex." She gasped in shock. He chuckled with a wink. "You're so cute when shocked," he leaned over and kissed her lips, pulling back with a wink and a grin. "We are going to do it doggie style."

Outside the exterior log cabin, the metal door sounded with a loud bong with two loud knocks.

Inside the bedroom, he turned and stared into the semi-dark hallway with a sour frown, "Who the fuck is that at the door?"

The metal door creaked with a soft swish. "Fucner," a voice shouted inside the archway of the front door.

Inside the bedroom, Fucner slid off the bed and turned with a wink and a smile to see Cumi. "Stay right here! I'll coming right back."

She tossed the bed linens and slid off the bed, reaching over and gathered up the scrubs with a worried brow. "Is it a raid?"

He slipped on the running shorts with a naked chest and a sneer. "A bug parade is coming. I wished that I had a can of bug spray, the size of dump truck." He turned and frowned with fury into the semi-dark hallway and the people that were disturbing his fuck fest with the virgin. He ran ahead into the dull hallway.

Living room setting

09:09 pm

He slammed into the metal door and caught the cracked door, holding it and blocked out all the un-welcomed company with a sneer. Then he back stepped from the door with a puzzled brow. The guests scooted around Fucner and entered the room. He frowned at each person. "Gay, Gray, Moody, Morgan came inside in fucking proper walking alphabetic order, too. Guys can't this fucking wait until sunrise on Monday morning at five o'clock?"

"There is no wait. It is right now a Friday night. Get out of way, Fucner! Did you fix supper? I'm hunger, too." IRS agent Gray strolled with a wink and a smile beside a semi-nude Fucner, moving further into the living room section of the log cabin and stopped, standing in place and scanned the tiny room.

"Mr. Moody is behind me. He has made a very big mistake." Gay moved ahead through the archway and passed Fucner with a smile, turning and stopped on the other side of her employee, leaning down and hugged the little girl.

"What the fuck?" Moody entered through the archway and turned with a sneer to see a semi-naked Fucner.

Fucner stood in place and held the door with a chuckle. "Fucner, my last name is Fucner, Rector."

Morgan entered through the archway and stopped, standing in front of the table, studying the pile of clothes and scattered playing cards with a smile and a nod. "I see your naked feet, a girly bra, a pair of girly panties and a used deck of playing cards," he shook a skull with a chuckle.

Gay turned and smiled at Fucner. "Do not try to explain that. I do not wanna know ever." He turned and chuckled at his supervisor.

"Mama," the little girl lifted both hands to her mother with a smile.

The metal door slammed into the face of Fucner. A set of more children and associated parents of the IRS agent, the other co-workers of Fucner plus the co-workers of Cumi entered through the open archway and stopped, standing inside the tiny log cabin with mumbles and grumbles. He exhaled with a huff of frustration in silence.

Gay leaned over and hugged her child, pulling back with a smile, "Yes, sweetie."

The girl lifted the object with a sad face. "My big shiny rock fell out of my princess crown, Mama."

Gay reached over and patted the hair roots of her daughter, turning with a smile to see Fucner. "She won the Little Miss Starlit Pageant about fifteen minutes ago at the Von Brown Center."

Fucner turned and faked a smile at the little girl, trying to be a nice pissed off horny bachelor to the un-welcomed guests, "Congratulations, honey!"

Gay took and stared at the object with a smile. "Say thank you, sir! Let me see the crown, sweetheart. I don't know if mama can fix this crown, sweetheart."

"Let me look at it, Gay." Fucner extended a hand and stared at the crown. It was an oversized triangle-shaped tiara of silver rhinestones, missing the big shiny rhinestone. "If I fix the princess crown, will your assets leave my log cabin immediately?"

"Yes, we all will leave, Fucner. We are only present to hear Mr. Moody's explanation about the five-hundred-million dollar set of money bags." Gay leaned over and hugged her child, pulling back with a smile.

Moody slowly turned and frowned at the naked back spine of Fucner. "Fucner, I want my computer disc back. The one, you confiscated from Dr. Munsterberg hospital office for the wrong crime," he slowly spun around and frowned at Cumi. She stood near the kitchen wall in a pair of black hospital scrubs with a grin and a giggle at gang of unwelcomed guests.

Moody frowned at Cumi. "I am truly sorry, young lady. An error has been discovered. An electronic transfer software malfunction had sent my money directly to another bank account for the Charity Hospital fund raising division like magic. I must present the flawed computer disc to the bank for retrieving and returning my money."

Fucner frowned down at the princess crown, "Yeah, yeah, alright, alright, I can fix this with some crazy glue," he spun around and moved towards the kitchen with a sour frown. "Fuck! I'll get the money disc first and then fix the princess crown," he leaned down with a smile and a whisper to Cumi. "I'll make them all disappear in three point zero seconds. Then we can start our personal fun," he spun around with a chuckle into the young boy with a sour frown.

The little seven-year-old boy danced around Fucner with a smile, "Hey! Dad, can I explore down the hallway?"

Fucner exhaled with a huff of annoyance and scanned with a sour frown each child and then to see his co-worker Morgan, "Are you having family picnic here inside the log cabin, Morgan?"

Morgan cringed with a grin, "I am sorry, Fucner. I told my kids about the old gangster hideout, which is only one in Birmingham. Ya know?"

Outdoor dirt setting

Moonlight with bright stares and warm temperatures

09:13 pm

"Yeah! Yeah! You can stay two point zero minutes flat, Morgan!" Fucner moved ahead and exited through the open archway into the darkness with moonlight, guiding a pair of naked feet over the cool dirt and ran into the dark tinted limousine that belonged to Moody. The limousine was parked parallel next to the entrance of the tiny log cabin which blocked the IRS pickup truck of Fucner.

"Fuck," he back pedaled and side stepped towards the side between Gray's vehicle and the limousine, scooting down two long rows of metal, turning to the right and then cut back to the left, moving away from the other vehicles.

He had parked the truck far away from the entrance of the log cabin to piss off Cumi and her piss-poor attitude. But he had ended up pissing off his own balls, since his co-workers now occupied the empty dirt on top of the flat tabletop bluff.

Fucner finally slipped in front of the truck door and reached over, jerking the door handle open and leaned over, scratching around the front compartment. He found the metal disc, the paper letter, the flashlight, and the handgun, jerking out and tore the paper letter with a sour frown. "Fuck!" a set of loose papers floated up and then fell down onto the bench seating and onto the dirt. "Fuck!" He squatted down onto the dirt and gathered the scattered papers into two hands, standing upright and stuffed the items in a wad back into the tiny frontal compartment. He back stepped and slammed the door shut, spinning around to face the closed door of the log cabin, slapping a hand and patted the pocket jeans for a key with a sour frown and a yell. "Fuck! Somebody closed the damn door. Gay has the only key for opening the puck green metal from the outside. Fuck!" He snapped the fingers with a smile. "There's an emergency key inside the glove compartment of the truck, in case a stupid horny male got locked out of the log cabin, before his sexy fun," he snorted with a laugh and spun around, opening the truck door again when his mobile telephone rang with a sound of drums and guitars of a rock and roll musical song. He lifted the mobile telephone and swished it into activation, lifting it into a face, opening the door. He leaned over and opened back up the glove compartment, hearing the voice on the mobile telephone.

Moody said via the mobile telephone, coming from inside the locked log cabin. "I am so happy that all of you are present here for my special announcement to the IRS federal agency and the Charity Hospital staff members. I am sorry. I am here to apologize to the medical staff of Birmingham Hospital radiation oncology department. I made a grave mistake. I discovered that the five hundred million dollars of the Vaughn Moody Foundation had been received by the correct financial party..."

Fucner reached inside and tossed out each object from the glove compartment, scratching around for the door key back into the log cabin, falling forward into leather seat and felt the vibration of an earthquake that rocked the dirt underneath a pair of naked feet.

The truck door swung forward and slammed into his back spine, almost knocking his teeth down a throat. He stood upright with a groan and slammed the truck door from his ass and then heard the rumble of a thunder storm, looking up with a puzzled brow to see the clear and starry bright sky.

Then, he felt the dirt quake for a second time.

Fucner wobbled and fell down into the dirt, partly underneath the pickup truck. The truck shook side to side. He crawled away from the truck and scanned the bouncing tires. He stood upright and scratched a sweaty forehead, looking up to see the skyline. He pondered the geomagnetic disturbance within the atmosphere from the full moon. He spun around with a chuckle and moved towards the closed door of the cabin, hearing a set of loud booms implode from the log cabin.

Pieces of cabin logs, sharp glass, hot metal, and other deadly pieces bombarded down over his body. He stumbled backward from the impact of the colorful explosion and covered a face with both his arms, dropping down and fell down on the ground onto a back spine with a grunt.

Then, Fucner passed out into unconsciousness of darkness.
One day later...

Sunday August 3rd

City of Leed within the US State of Alabama

(15 miles, east, from Birmingham)

Limousine ride east direction on Interstate 20

04:01 p.m.

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Mary Margaret fidgeted side to side with annoyance on top of the long bench seat in the rear cabin of the limousine and wore an off-the-shoulder emerald green tinted long dress of ruffles, traveling towards a new school in the small town of Leed within the US State of Alabama.

The antebellum skirt bellowed out from a waistline and then puddled down towards the carpet floor of the limousine while covering her naked legs and her set of naked toes. The naked toes sat inside a pair of four-inched leather strapped summer sandals in discomfort. When standing upright in a belle pose, the bellowing antebellum skirt spread outward into a three-foot diameter circle over the hard surface and covered the naked toes of the sandals.

Mary Margaret had been sitting in the rear bench seat of the limousine for twenty minutes, after she had been picked up at her personal home inside the metro city of Birmingham, which was twenty miles west of Leed. She turned to face the side window and scanned the rolling green and lush landscape with a stern face while listening to the lecture from her mom about the charms of a southern belle.

Her mom possessed the same soprano timber as her daughter Mary Margaret, leaning with a smile into the pale tinted cheekbone of her daughter. "Be courtesy. Be natural, as much as, you can," she reached down and patted her own plantation dress with a pair of wrist gloves while appearing like a fairy princess, lecturing like a professor. "For your attitude, be happy!"

Mary Margaret turned and stared at her dad with a stern face of love and envy. He wore a comfortable black colored sports jacket, a pressed white colored shirt, a pair of faded and worn blue jeans, and a pair of black and white python-skinned cowboy boots that matched his daughter's cowgirl boots. Her cowgirl boots were stored inside one of the twelve pieces of neon green tinted alligator luggage set. The luggage pieces traveled ahead of Mary Margaret inside a black colored utility vehicle towards the same new school in Leed. He smiled with a nod in rhyme with social and cultural lecture from his wife to their daughter Mary Margaret.

Mary Margaret had been accepted into Antebellum House, where she would carry on the family tradition and the family name Cantwell. She exhaled with a puff of annoyance at her father. "I am happy, Mama. But I don't understand why I have to come to this particular post-graduation college. I was accepted into a regular Bama state school at Birmingham University on a full academic scholarship, Daddy?" He smiled with a nod to his daughter Mary Margaret in silence.

Her mom smiled. "Do not let anyone bring you down, Mary Margaret. Life is not about wasting time on one single thing. Enjoy your life whilest a young girl. My baby girl is going to Antebellum House. We're so proud, honey bunny. Also, be kind to everyone! If another belle is rude, then you as the bigger belle are to be nicer. No matter if a belle says something rude to you then she will know that you will be the nicer one. Okay, sweetheart? Do my words ease your nervousness, sugar?" Mary Margaret turned and smiled to her mom in silence.

The word of her mother startled and started up the nervousness inside the inner guts of Mary Margaret again as she had been forced to attend a new unfamiliar post-graduate institution without a social friend coming from her old high school. Out of the baby blue skies of Alabama, without any warning, she had gotten accepted into Antebellum House.

She exhaled with a puff of annoyance and turned, scanning the rolling landscape.

04:31 p.m.

Antebellum House location

Front porch setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine and clear skies

The limousine slowed and then rolled into a halt. A doorman on the sidewalk of the school glided ahead towards the limousine window, reaching out and grabbed the handle, opened the rear door.

Mary Margaret scooted across the soft leather bench seat with a fake smile, grabbing the skirt with a left glove and the forearm of the doorman with her right glove, stumbling out into the bright sunlight, tripping over the dress hem of the fluffy plantation dress and recovered beautifully with the assistance of the doorman.

A young maid ran ahead from the side of the steps and scooted around the upright new teen, stopping and stooped down, grabbing the rear train of Mary Margaret's plantation dress, lifting it into the air from the dirty and rough concrete. Mary Margaret felt the tug of the dress and moved ahead towards the flat concrete sidewalk like a gorgeous belle and as, the skirt bellowed gently around a waistline and a pair of naked toes. Her legs lovingly felt the silky slip skirt that held off a set of three prickly crinolines underneath the ball gown which made the skirt bloom outward like a budding rose. Her emerald eyeballs stared at the suspended two horse-drawn yellow painted open carriage feeling like a real princess. The stationary carriage was designed for private elegance that carried a party of four towards the front steps of Antebellum House.

She slowly looked back with a smile over a collar bone to see a pink colored tall structure plus the colorful parade of numerous doorless horse drawn carriages. The carriages colors ranged from pure white to baby blue to candy pink to fire engine red to midnight black. All the new students and a set of parents rode inside a fairy tale carriage towards the fairy tale building for the traditional orientation session of the first day of the school. Mary Margaret stopped in front of the next available carriage. The young maid dropped the rear dress hem over the rough concrete and spun around, dashing to the next stopping limousine to assist the new teen.

A young footman with a bright smile underneath a white colored cowboy hat and a gray cotton jacket extended a brown gloved hand in the air near the nose profile of the teen girl which signaled for Mary Margaret to enter the carriage first. She swung a face back to the carriage and reached out, grabbing the gloved hand, slowly waddling ahead, dragging the dress train of the satin dress over the rough concrete, since it lounged lazy three feet behind a fanny. She stopped in front of the two-foot step ladder.

He leaned down and reached over, grabbing her waistline, lifting Mary Margaret up into the air and over the lip of the carriage bucket like a southern gentleman with the leather gloves.

The sandals hit the floor and as Mary Margaret accidentally tumbled towards the bench seat to the left, since she really wanted to sit on the right side that faced the world. She scooted and slid down into the middle of the cushioned bench and as the dress spread outward over the pink tinted cushion into beauty form.

Her mom and her dad entered the carriage, sitting across from Mary Margaret like the first day of first grade at her elementary school.

The smiling footman turned and nodded a cowboy hat to the coachman in silence. The coachman nodded back and turned to face the road, sitting on an elevated long bench in front of the carriage bucket, whipping the reins into the air and then over the rumps of four horses.

The carriage swiftly jolted into a slow and steady pace over the gravel road.

Mary Margaret faced backward and enjoyed a pretty view with a smile of excitement and intrigue on her first day of college at a new institution.

The landscape consisted of groves of tall dark green oak, light green maple, yellow pine, and red cedar trees, rows of short stubby light and dark green plant shrubs, scattered patches of hundreds of colorful wild red roses, blue azaleas, orange camellias, yellow daisies, pink petunias, and other nameless pretty flowers. Three rows of gold pear trees, garnet plum trees, and crab apple trees stood between a natural woodland forest and a food garden of planted red strawberries, green shelled watermelons, and rows of colorful yellow, orange, and red vegetables.

The two horses slowly plowed down a white tinted gravel roadway and followed behind the cute footman, who led upon his horse.

Her mom lifted and opened the parasol umbrella, blocking out the sun and heat from a sweaty face, nodding in silence to Mary Margaret to copycat the southern belle movement, since the day burned in ninety degrees of heated August in hot Alabama.

Mary Margaret sweated around the earlobes, the lips, and the breasts, lifting up and popped open the silk fan like a professional with a practiced left gloved hand, swishing it back and forth like an electric fan underneath a parasol umbrella also. She hoped that the team of horses was hungry for the sweet feed lunch. The horses slowly crunched the hoofs down the gravel road and then halted in behind the rear bumper of a hot pink tinted carriage.

The carriage released a queen-sized teen, who matched her queen-sized weight of the mother and the king-sized height of her father

The blue carriage of Mary Margaret parked beside a row of colorful flowers. The pretty flowers traveled around the side corners of Antebellum House.

A new footman moved ahead and stopped, standing next to the step ladder of the blue carriage with a smile underneath the white colored cowboy hat at Mary Margaret first.

Her mom nodded to her daughter in silence.

Mary Margaret jerked the parasol down from the hair roots and closed the delicate fabric umbrella, slapping the leather strand of the parasol over a left gloved hand like a southern belle of yesteryear. She placed the folded fan back down into a tiny drawstring satin pouch which hung form a left wrist. She reached out and grabbed his leather glove with a smile to the handsome young adult, standing upright with a slight wobble from the wide dress. The footman reached inside and grabbed the waistline, lifting her up and out form the bucket of the carriage, making Mary Margaret giggle with an innocent girly thought of his manly touches on her teenly body. Then he back stepped and placed her on top of the smooth concrete, facing a massive building.

The structure was a gigantic three-story Greek-revival style antebellum building with a set of six white columns that traveled non-stop up into the blue skyline and then slapped back down into the gray colored concrete front porch. The front porch displayed a big square hole in the middle of the building, where a set of double entrance doors should have been.

Weird!

Antebellum House was colored in light pink granite mineral that gleamed like the eight-carat diamond ring of her mother. There was not a wooden railing that lined an elevated front porch, where a person could fall down onto the ground and then break an arm from the porch. There were a set of two separate walking steps that were built perpendicular into the elevated foundation of the building which led directly up and onto the elevated front porch. The opposite set of walking steps drew person towards the big hole in the middle of the building. The big hole was an open and hollow tunnel that went straight through from the front entrance portal towards the rear exit and down the middle of the building.

Really weird!

The footman stood on the left side of Mary Margaret. Her mom pulled up beside and joined Mary Margaret on the right. Her daddy was next to his wife and leaned the cowboy hat into the face of a new male, who was dressed similar to the footman and the coachman with a gray colored sports jacket, a white shirt, a pair of faded and wore blue jeans, and a pair of comfortable and polished cowboy boots.

The new male pulled away from the dad of Mary Margaret and spun around, facing the big hole in the middle of the building with a stern face and a loud yell. "Greetings to Miss Mary Margaret, her great-great Granddaddy Cantwell had served in the 12th Alabama Artillery Regiment."

Her mom leaned over with a smile and a whisper into the cheekbone of her daughter, "Go to your left." Mary Margaret nodded in silence and recalled the social lecture inside the limousine ride thirty minutes ago.

In the Old South, men and women did not walk side-by-side like a married or a single couple when entering a public or private establishment. They had to split-up like a divorced angry couple, in case a white ankle bone of the southern lady just happened to show underneath her long flowing plantation dress, then the wandering eyeball of the gawking southern rogue would not see it.

Mary Margaret reached down and grabbed, jerking the long hemline of the dress and the three crinolines up the leg while showing off a pale bony kneecap, leading a parade of other colorful plantation dresses of females. She turned and stomped up the stair, stopping and stood on the top of the third brick step while sweating in the Alabama heat. She removed from a waist and slapped the parasol open, lifting it over the rich black colored hair bun and slapped the fan open, killing the set of pretend flies that were not buzzing around both narrowed eyelashes.

The female wore a pretty straw hat with a pale coral colored big fashion bow in the rear, swinging around with a smile to see Mary Margaret. She displayed a tone of honey tinted skin and a head of matching honey colored blonde hair with a smile. "Hello! I'm Emma."

"I am Mary Margaret," she smiled with a nod.

A hostess appeared on top of the flat porch, wearing an off-the-shoulder baby blue three-tiered plantation dress, leaning over with a whsiper into the face of Emma's father. "Follow her."

Emma and her parents moved ahead and scooted underneath the cool front portico, heading into the welcomed room of the building.

Mary Margaret looked over a collar bone to see her mother with a confused brow. "Mama, why do we dress like this getting all hot and bothered in the heated August sun?"

Her mom leaned over with a smile and a whisper into the face of her daughter. "This is the fun part of an old-fashion tradition at Antebellum House, dear. We all get to dress in formal wear to honor our ancestors."

Mary Margaret exhaled with a puff of annoyance and swung around, staring at the cool shade of the front porch with a whisper for her eardrums only. "My ancestors are all dead and buried."

A new hostess appeared and stood in front of Mary Margaret wearing a yellow ball gown with a pair of white tinted satin elbow-length gloves, and a neckline of pearls. She wore a pearl forehead halo across the forehead with a nod and a smile. "Hey! I'm Chloe. I am new here too. Some of the other hostesses are older than us. So, we're like friends, now. Right?"

She smiled. "Yes. We are friends now. I am Mary Margaret. These are my parents, Mrs. and Mr. Cantwell from the city of Birmingham," she did not finger her parents but nodded with a chin like a good belle.

Chloe smiled. "Welcome, Miss Mary Margaret. Here, at Antebellum House, all females are known as Miss Somebody. So, you need to get used to the formal title of each instructor and belle," she reached out and grabbed the naked forearm of Mary Margaret with a smile, back stepping from the parents.

They slowly turned towards the building and slowly waddled ahead towards the cool shade of the front porch while Mr. and Mrs. Cantwell slowly followed behind the rear dresses of the two teen girls.

Chloe looked ahead at the porch with a smile without pointing a gloved finger, since it was rude belle manner. "This is the portico or porch. There will be lots of new words for you to use here at Antebellum House."

Mary Margaret moved ahead with Chloe and stared with a smile at the entire porch. The porch was built in a horizontal formation, containing a row of rocking chairs, a few porch vertical swings which could hold two people hostile and cozy for some female and male fun during the warm or cool evenings. She giggled with a grin of amusement, lifting a glove and covered the smile.

They stopped and stood inside the first doorway on the right side of the hollow tunnel. The archway was wide enough for a pair of belle plantation gowns to stand inside the open archway.

Chloe smiled without fingering the room, since it was very rude for a southern belle to point at anything. "This is called a pretty parlor room which was built specifically for the dead and gone prissy belles. But we will use and abuse the pretty parlor room, after our suppertime meal is finished, each evening. We can chat, gossip, and relax here before our assigned bedtime hour. It also serves as a reception room, in case of visiting company, which is rare. Since, your parents have placed you here like me, on purpose. Your parents are not allowed to visit during the academic period like a fucking prison. But you can return home during the sweet holiday break," she turned a smile to see the opposite open archway of a new room with a chin nod instead of a rude finger point. "Across the hallway is a parlor room for the beaus which was used back then during the civil war days of our dead and gone ancestors," she exhaled. "No big deal now! No boys are allowed to stay and study as male students here at Antebellum House on purpose."

Mary Margaret smiled with a whisper. "I know that."

Chloe back stepped from the archway of the parlor room and slowly turned to the side, moving ahead a few feet inside the breezeway, stopping and stand next to beau parlor room. The space was painted in baby blue colors on one-third of the lower walls. Two-thirds of the wall was composed of stark white paint, since southerns liked to paint a room two-toned for some unexplained reason.

The other pairs of girls slowly exited from a new room.

Chloe slowly veered them down a windy breezeway of the big hole that served as an open hallway. The breezeway displayed an array of very tall windows on each side which came down the roof rafters to the wooden baseboards. The breezeway held an assortment of wooden styled rocking chairs too.

Mary Margaret recalled from the social and cultural lecture inside the limousine. During the antebellum period, a window pane was built almost touching the floor of the room, offering a new type of air-conditioning system, as well as, providing a second door entrance point into the space that was used by both people and animals which ran and play fancy foot free and loose around the cotton plantation home and grounds.

Chloe pulled Mary Margaret into a new archway with a smile. "This is called the library. There are numerous individual writing desks which are loaded with a modern-day computer laptop like inside your private bedroom suite which can access the internet. We're a first-rate country, not a third-world country. Belles come here to study or complete the daily school assignments, since the room holds over two thousand old stinky books which range from an entertainment novel of adventure, romance, mystery, and murder to academic studies of world history, literature, geography, and other academic shitty text reference books for schooling like a third grader."

"It is really brightly lit even with the dark walnut paneling. I can see all types of book stacks." Mary Margaret stared with a smile into the library room.

Three of the walls held a set of built-in black walnut book shelves. Each shelf beautifully exposed thousands of colorful binders. A writing desk haphazardly was scattered around the room underneath a bright row of reading lights. The opposite wall was composed of four low-setting ceiling to floor glass windows that were covered in a set of non-matching fabric curtains. A person could see scattered pockets of light green paint on the walls which seriously clashed with the non-matching funny patterns of the window treatments of purple squares or horizontal baby blue lines.

Each writing desk inside the library was a group of mismatched furniture styles which was similar to set of mismatched rocking chairs that stood on the front porch and inside the breezeway. The mismatched assorted of styles and colors included an array of varied furniture pieces. The inventory included three 1704 Queen Anne bow table leg designs, four Chippendale 1760 straight leg frameworks, and six Hepplewhite 1799 tapered table legs. There are three 1850 Rococo Revival furniture pieces with a white tinted marble round-shape writing table surface over a pair of nicely finished red cherry rosewood table legs. The assortment of plain maple wood writing tables was designed like a high school student desk and there were several modern-day aluminum steel office desks also. All desk surfaces and legs seriously clashed against a hodge-podge of straight back chairs in a variety of colors and fabric styles.

Odd!

There was not an ancient grandfather clock for time or a set of decorative floor lamps for drama either.

Very odd!

"And the library contains a smelly atmosphere that floods the inside my nostrils, coming from all the ancient books," Chloe giggled with Mary Margaret. "The main house features old fine furniture, older precious porcelain, cheap stainless steel, and a few pieces of expensive shiny silver, costly cracked crystal, and gleaming cheap glassware which comes from the country of Japan," she back stepped from the archway with a smile and turned, slowly waddling down the breezeway to the next room.

Mary Margaret turned and frowned at Chloe. "Is all that really true? My mama told me something entirely different."

She giggled. "I added...embellished some of the personal observations into the boring essay which was written by a boring Mistress Constance, who will lecture the new journal writing class. But, please don't repeat and mention that nasty comment ever," smirking.

"Okay," whispered Mary Margaret.

Chloe halted the stroll and leaned over with a lady growl into the cheekbone of Mary Margaret. "And I want you to promise me that too."

"I promise not to say anything, belle." Mary Margaret meekly whispered with concern.

Chloe stood upright with a grin and slowly waddled ahead in the long dress into a new room with a set of four walls of gray colored paint and an assortment of matching wooden cabinets. She stared with a smile into the room. "This is the kitchen where all the meals are prepared. We are not allowed inside since they feed us very well during breakfast, brunch, lunch, tea time, and supper. But, if you get hunger, then stand here. Someone will bring a tray of snacks or a picnic basket of good food. You can take it back to your room and share with your new belle friends for some night-time down time. And no hoe downs are allowed," she giggled with Mary Margaret. "This is similar to the school's fast food drive-in window."

They back stepped slowly from the open archway and slowly turned, waddling down to the next room.

Chloe frowned. "Where was I in my prepared speech? The gleaming glassware from the foreign country of Japan," she smiled. "I memorized it. So, I don't wanna have to start from the beginning." The belle-hostess pair emptied out from the next open archway and then advanced forward into the new room.

Mary Margaret nodded with a smile at the new room. "It's okay with me. I like hearing about Antebellum..."

Chloe smiled. "Ah! I remembered. The main house is fitted with a wide board dark pine flooring from the ground level up to each belle's private chamber room. The wooden floor is easier on your calf muscles than marble or tile. I added that part. The ceilings are fifteen feet high on the first level and twelve feet high inside your private bedroom suite. And every room has a real marble working fireplace which is used during the winter time. So cool! I love pretty red fire even if it is really from the underground petroleum gas tanks," giggling.

"Me, too," Mary Margaret smiled.

They stopped and stood inside the open archway of a new room.

"This is the needlepoint room for the needlepoint class."

Mary Margaret smiled with a nod inside the new room. "I like needlepoint."

"You're lying." Chloe turned and frowned at the nose profile of Mary Margaret.

"I do not tease."

"You're joshing."

"I do not josh."

"Ugh! You really are a southern belle in both your naked heart and you hidden soul." Chloe turned with a giggle and stared into the new room of baby pink paint. An assortment of various modern chairs covered the floor, such as, a gray leather recliner, a pine wooden rocking chair, a floral pink and baby blue wing chair. Each chair stood in front of an object. A twelve-inched square hoop was positioned on top of a single legged wooden foot stand that held a twelve-inched mesh of white canvas that would be used for the upcoming belle needlepoint stitching enjoyment.

They slowly back stepped from the open doorway and side stepped to the right, stopping and stood inside a new archway.

"This is called the drawing room which is not really a classroom for the traditional academic classes. You will discover the meaning tomorrow on our first day of college," Chloe back steppe from the archway and turned, slowly waddling down the breezeway with Mary Margaret. "The drawing room is beside the spacious dining room, where we eat with our belle table manners. Or you do not eat the delicious southern meal and you receive a nasty demerit."

Mary Margaret frowned with disgust, "A demerit? I have never gotten a demerit for any type of punishment. I'm a good girl," she nodded with a smile.

Chloe turned and winked at the nose profile of Mary Margaret. "You stay like that as a good belle, Mary Margaret. Because, if you challenge a dare at our head mistress Deborah with a verbal duel, then you lose and she wins," she turned and stared down the long breezeway with Mary Margaret. The far distance showed off the rear lawn of manicured grass and rays of bright sunlight.

Chloe slowly turned into a new archway without investigating a row of faraway buildings and structures towards the rear of the breezeway.

Mary Margaret narrowed the eyelashes at the back lawn with a puzzled brow. "You have missed explaining the breezeway components of my tour, Chloe."

Chloe smiled. "In the geographical direction south, there is the manicured front lawn of green grass, rows of service buildings for the horses and the horse-drawn carriages and such-like. You learn to like that new word, such-like. I do, too," she giggled. "There is a real dead person cemetery and a real big mountain called Loveless Mountain."

They stopped and stood behind a pair of belle-hostess girls who occupied a new archway.

Chloe leaned over with a smile and a whisper into the cheekbone of Mary Margaret. "My time and tour as the hostess with the mostess has ended. I'm supposed to tell you and the other belles. All these buildings in the rear of Antebellum House are off limits to us, without a proper explanation."

Mary Margaret turned with a puzzled brow to see the far away structures beyond the rear lawn. "Why would that be, Chloe?"

Chloe turned and narrowed the eyelashes at the same structures with a stern face. "I don't know. But, gossip goes like this. Last year, a belle for some silly reason went into one of the buildings. Then, she got expelled from Antebellum House. That's the rumor for the day. So, share with another belle."

Mary Margaret nodded with a stern face, "Noted! You will not catch me near a building or a cemetery. Is the mountain off limits too?"

Chloe turned and giggled at the face of the head mistress who was greeting another belle pair, "No and yes, but, mostly no. I'm not supposed to tattle tale, but you'll be hearing the rumors, right after Debbie's dull intro lecture during our suppertime meal. That's gossip, too."

They moved ahead a few inches and stopped, standing inside the new archway, waiting a turn.

Chloe turned and smiled into the new room. "This is the biggest room in the house which is called the ballroom with many purposes. One, there is fun dancing and dance lessons. Two, there are social gathering of the belles and beaus for fun events like dancing and dances lessons." She turned and nodded to the new female. "And now, may I present head mistress Deborah?"

The parents of Mary Margaret appeared and stood behind the dress train of their daughter, nodding with a smile to Deborah also.

The queen-sized lady with a grayish-silver tinted hair bun at the nape of a neck wore a deep plum antebellum dress with a smile to teen girl. "Thank you, Miss Chloe. Please return back to your biological parents. We will begin the orientation session shortly," she turned and smile at the second teen. "Miss Mary Margaret and her parents, Mrs. and Mr. Cantwell, you are the last family to arrive at Antebellum House," she reached down and touched the gloved hand of Mary Margaret with a smile and a whisper, shaking the hand up and down. "Welcome!" Then, she released the gloved hand of Mary Margaret. "Please enter and find a sofa, sitting with your parents for a set of new announcements plus the very important belle instructions. Ladies, please untangle the drawstring purse and the silk parasol from a wrist and the pair of gloves from the hands, slipping them to one of the many strolling housemaids. They will come around gathering all of your gown accessories. The items will be stored inside an interior cubby of shelves with your family surname. Just whisper your name and let them do the work. You may run along now!"

Mary Margaret back stepped from the skirt of Deborah and turned, swinging around, moving between her mom and her dad like a good southern belle. They slowly strolled inside and towards the interior room and then encounter a housemaid. Mary Margaret stopped and stood, slipping off the pair of wrist gloves and the purse, handing the items to the maid with a smile.

The housemaid accepted the female items from the Canter girls, wearing a black ankle-length dress with a white apron that held three frontal pockets. The apron trailed down to the kneecaps for holding numerous items. A matching black cap covered her colored hair roots and her skull completely. She stood in place and stored each item inside the apron with a stern face.

Mary Margaret back stepped and slowly turned, waddling ahead between her parents with a giggle of giddiness at the unique college environment, scanning each plain tinted white wall.

The ballroom was grand, measuring seventy-five feet in length and forty-five feet in wide form the front towards the rear walls. The length size was similar to a high school basketball court, without the two poles and the two net baskets. Three of walls were painted in dull white, without any type of cute wall decorations or a set of tall pillars for flirting with a beau or a row of low-hanging expensive crystal chandeliers to kiss the lips of your beau.

Instead, the ceiling held six horizontal rows of fluorescent lighting fixtures which were bright enough to blind a cave bat. Mary Margaret had seen this same lighting arrangement many times inside her dentist office while getting her teeth cleaned.

Her father did not select the long sofa, since the room of furniture was occupied with bodies. He led towards a Sheraton-style sofa.

Mary Margaret recalled the social lecture from her mom yesterday inside the kitchen at the breakfast table and during lunchtime with a picture book like a first grader. This particular piece of furniture was created in the year 1785 in the foreign country of Great Britain. The couch featured an exposed wood railing that ran across the top back and the head rest. The two sofa arms were decorated in a set of medium brown mahogany wood that was attached downward towards a set of eight reed legs which looked like a spider. There was a vanilla colored silky chenille fabric single bench seat cushion, measuring seventy-two inches long, by thirteen inches high from the floor and thirty inches deep for five...correction...three people and two plantation dresses to fit and sit comfortably.

Each family sofa measured four feet of empty space in front of the forward family sofa giving every person a piece of shoe comfort. Two feet of air space was available from the other two side family sofas for a set of eardrum privacy.

She prettily sat between her parents. Her mom held the right hand of Mary Margaret while her dad patted the left hand of his daughter like she was about to be punished for something bad.

Her eyelashes wandered across the exposed flesh that did not reveal the breasts of her mom inside the deep necklace of the off-the-shoulder plantation dress.

Head mistress Deborah stood in front of a black lacquer design-shaped sofa with a smile and a hand-held microphone.

Mary Margaret noted not one piece of sofa furniture matched another type of sofa inside the grand plain white colored ballroom.

Extremely odd!

Deborah did not wave but smiled into the microphone at each face. "Antebellum House has survived through the ages like her mistress with charm, courage, and commitment from many, many folks throughout a long, long history including a couple of American wars. We shall not pursue the past but prepare for the future."

Mary Margaret did not cheer or clap with the other adult and teen belles since both hands were held by a parent. She studied the iconic furniture designers whose particular woodwork came from the all four corners of the world.

The unique room of furniture sofa included an English Tudor, a French King Louis, a Chippendale, and numerous modern sofa pieces. The modern sofa next to her was a Sheraton sofa with a beige background that held a pattern design of tiny red birds and black bumblebees.

Mary Margaret wondered if Antebellum House had money to pay the local electricity invoice.

The different furniture items looked like a thief had robbed the international furniture store of sofas while forgetting to grab a matching lounge chair and a side table.

The other belles and their parents cheered on Debbie.

Deborah lifted a palm into the air. Then silence invaded the room. She smiled into the microphone. "Welcome to Antebellum House for growing minds and glowing memories with our lovely hostesses who will graduate the school in May of next year. You will not find any lavish decorated rooms. There is not a single glittering crystal chandelier that is suspended down from a soaring ceiling. There is not an ornamented springtime carved door, an exquisitely detailed frieze. There are not a set of crown moldings that swirl in hand carved flowers across the ceiling plaster. Because, this is our Antebellum House. First, we are a school of learning. Second, we are a farm of three thousand acres of crops stretching out as far as the eyes can see in all geographical directions. The house is surrounded by beautiful profitable white cotton plants, a grove of sour oranges by mouth but yummy in salads, a peach and apple orchard, a grape vineyard, and an extensive garden of flowers, fruits, and vegetables. The vegetables and fruits rest in the soil in front of the school while blooming at this very moment within the fertile Bama soil, since the food and fields benefit the school and the students."

Mary Margaret counted ten windows that measured eight feet in height and four feet in length as each window wore a gracefully puddling of colored and textured curtain drapes looking like a pool of colored water over the wood floor.

Deborah smiled into the microphone. "Antebellum House is a self-contained plantation with its own underground water-well and food supply chain. The farm lands produce wheat, corn, oats, rye, and cotton for harvest, cattle, sheep, horses, chickens, and hogs for good eats, a green forest of timber for an active sawmill. The building has remained unaltered with the original window slants, since the year 1792 AD, not BC, belles. The windows do work and are used for air ventilation, a heart pine flooring for foot endurance, working fireplaces for body heat, and most of the original plaster has survived over 400 years of teens. Each room is furnished..."

Mary Margaret leaned over with a whisper into the cheekbone of her mom. "Why are all the couches different from each other, Mama?"

"Quiet please, Mary Margaret," she stared with a smile at the mistress Deborah.

"Does the school need money to pay for more furniture, Mama? Did you make a donation today too as part of my admission into Antebellum House?" Mary Margaret frowned with confusion, staring at the nose profile of her mother.

Her mother leaned over with a whisper and a stern face while staring at Deborah. "Please listen, belle!"

In front of the ballroom, Deborah stood behind a short podium, waving both an arm with a smile and a nod to each face. "There are no curved doors, only square archways. No spiral winding staircases, only straight up steps into the ceiling and then turn into a wall.

"The grounds are both elegant to the eyes with beautiful arrays of flowers from blue azaleas to yellow roses. To the tongue, tons of hardy fresh-grown fruits, vegetables, and tree nuts stand tall like a row of earth princesses in the red clay soil. We do not engage in any type of lavish entertainment but we do hold a couple of exciting horse races, a few friendly gin rummy card competitions, some graceful ballroom dance events, a few fun hay rides, and a lot of nice games of croquet. The croquet lawn flanks..."

Chloe said with a sour frown into the sensitive acoustics and as, her loud words bounced along the marble dance hall and into the eardrums of Deborah. "Croquet, that's a sissy game."

Deborah swung towards the sofa with teen belle Chloe and her parents near the wall with a sour frown, "I will give one demerit, Miss Chloe, if I were assigning demerits today, young belle. Since we are still in our orientation session, you are exempted and truly very lucky. The croquet lawn flanks the house on the east side near the lovely watered and flowered courtyard, where all our young belles with invited properly chaperoned young beaus can congregate, on a cool autumn evening, for fun."

Mary Margaret studied the first window on the east wall. An overflowing fabric of green velvet curtains decorated the covered window which was beside a second window of white sheer drapery. A third window of geometric electric blue circles showed on linen fabric. A fourth window of heavy red silk stood beside a fifth window of striped black and white sheer. The sixth window in yellow and green cotton wool plaid stood beside the seventh pink solid silky rayon floral flowers of cotton drapes.

All the curtain drapes puddled a length and long tail end of the fabric over the wood floor.

An eighth display window of baby blue background with tan birds and brown tree branches in burlap parked besides a ninth window of hot pink flowers on a white background with purple fans. A tenth window was decorated in crimson red paisley print on silk.

Mary Margaret pondered the second grader decoration inside a college setting for mature teenagers.

Deborah smiled into the microphone. "Your private chamber bedroom has a full bath for each student which is located inside the garconniere. The new belle word means 'wing.' There is a belle garconniere on the east side of the house and a second garconniere on the west side which is currently unoccupied. The belle garconniere is accessed by a single stair hall with a forty-five-foot cathedral ceiling that is enclosed by two side walls. Legend has it. The deep reddish brown slash marks bronzed into a peach colored wall inside the belle wooden case stairwell were made by a British naval officer. During the Revolutionary War of 1812, a garrison of military soldiers from the foreign country of Great Britain attacked and murdered a helpless chambermaid. Then the woman bravery charged down from the top of the garconniere steps while protecting her little belles with only a broom stick."

Mary Margaret jerked from funny fashion windows with a confused brow to see the head mistress and heard the fascinating story of the Antebellum House.

Deborah smiled into the microphone. "I promised a swift painful deadly lecture on the topic of nasty demerits. When a belle has crossed that invisible line of naughty teen misbehavior within the eyeballs and the eardrums of the school instructor, the misbehaving belle receives a demerit. When you receive ten demerits, you are sent to Detention Isle. Detention Isle is a cute name for the wild woodlands of the Leed forest with real live wolves, snakes, bears, coyotes, deer, spiders, fishes, a fresh water river, and a tall mountain called Loveless. You will spend the night without your other party girlfriends which is usually alone and away from the suppertime meal that starts at five pm. You will start until sunrise at five am, the next morning. During your shitty visit, you will scout for food, scoop for water, and sleep with nature." Mary Margaret gasped in horror with the belles.

Deborah smiled with a nod into the microphone. "With punishment, there comes reward. During your day activity of academic classes, you will be given an opportunity to brag about your IQ, which your southern mama loves to boast to her visiting guests at your homestead. At the end of the day, our teachers will converse, selecting among themselves the next day's lady of honor. Now, that sounds like a title. My, my, my, it is not in a long shot. It is more than three simple words. The honored will seat in a beautiful decorated yellow canopy suite in the middle section of the dining room, where you will be treated more befitting than a royal princess of Great Britain. The lady is allowed for each meal to eat with her fingers and her toes, if you are a jungle monkey and sip her drink from the actually plastic bottle, not a crystal goblet," she laughed with the belles.

"So, we can see that the honor of being a lady is a much better treat and treatment for the daytime ride to act like a silly teen. Good luck to all the new and previous belles in your academic classes! My introduction lecture is complete. We should eat like civilized southern belles. I bid my goodbye to her parents, who are given my permission to depart Antebellum House, until their return during our celebrated holiday break. The break starts the day before the traditional Thanksgiving holiday. Please, stand and wish your mama and your daddy a safe trip back home."

Mary Margaret stood upright from the sofa with her mother, leaning over and hugged her mother with a set of tears of slight worry and excitement. This was the first time that she would be away from her home and her family for numerous days, months, and the rest of the calendar year.

Her mom wiped the loose hair strands out of the eyeballs of her daughter with a smile. "You'll do very well here, honey. I'm so proud of you, Mary Margaret," she leaned over and gently tapped a kiss on the cheekbone of Mary Margaret, pulling back with a smile of happiness and motherly love. "I love you, dear."

"I will try, Mama." Mary Margaret smiled and turned to see her dad.

Her dad leaned over and kissed the middle of a sweaty forehead on his daughter like always, pulling back with a nod and a smile. "Just listen to your school instructors! You will be fine and dandy, darling. We'll come back in November and take you home for the Christmas holiday and celebrate with a big party for both you and Brother Jesus. I love you, Mary Margaret."

"Yes sir, Daddy!" Mary Margaret leaned over and hugged her father, releasing him with a set of sobs and hidden tears of worry and excitement.

Her dad back stepped and reached over, grabbing his wife by the hand and slowly spun around from his daughter Mary Margaret, slowly moving ahead towards the open archway with the rest of the parents. Mary Margaret watched their back spines and held back the tears, quietly sobbing for the first time while missing the next one hundred and twenty plus nightly suppers at home.

Then, her parents disappeared from the ballroom.
Monday August 4th

Hot temperatures with light rain showers

First college academic subject

Needlepoint Class location

09:06 am

Classroom setting

All the girls had moved down from an individual private bedroom after a good sleep and gathered inside the classroom for the first subject of the new heat day, needlepoint class.

The school teacher stood in front of a wooden hoop, wearing a pair of brown and green rattlesnake cowgirl boots. Her thick legs stood apart inside a pair of dark blue jeans which was coupled with an ivory silk long sleeved blouse with a gray hair bun tucked behind the nape of a neck. She smiled to each girl. "Welcome to needlepoint class. I am Mistress Alice. I see that you have lovingly followed the newest rule. No antebellum gown is required for your daily activities at school session. Remember, your antebellum gown must be worn tonight during the table manners class."

"Ugh," one of the belles yelled with a sour frown.

"Aarrgh," another of the belle sneered with a distorted face.

"Eww," a different belle shouted with an ugly brow.

Alice smiled with a nod to each girl. "I already am aware that none of the new class of belles can perform any stitch of needlepoint. That is why we are here today. Southern belles have created sets of lovely colorful garments of cross-stitching since before ya'll were ever born. A pretty needlepoint portrait might be hanging on your grandmother's parlor wall," giggling.

Chloe sat inside a floral gray and blue loveseat alone and played with the tail ends of a ruffled silk blouse that hung over a pair of faded and ripped blue jeans with a sour frown. She did not touch the wooden stitching board in front of her breasts. "Doubt it! That old hag is dead," giggling.

"One demerit, Miss Chloe!" Alice frowned at the young teen belle and then smiled to the other girls. "I personally find, and you will also, that learning how to needlepoint can assist with the improvement of your math skills, spatial perception, and other fine motor abilities."

The teen belle was named Spring, who was a tall girl with a head of long blonde colored hair and tone of dark skin. She wore an electric blue T-shirt with a pair of white tinted blue jeans, and a pair of blue and white lizard cowgirl boots. She frowned, "Math skills?"

The new belle frowned at the teacher also. "I can add." The teen belle was named Autumn, who was the twin sister with the matching wardrobe to Spring.

Then they giggled together.

Chloe leaned over into the cheekbone of Spring with a wicked grin, "What's two and two, Spring?"

Spring turned and smiled at her twin sister, "A married..."

"...couple," Autumn turned and smiled at her twin sister Spring. The twin sisters giggled with a grin along with the other belles and Chloe.

Alice cleared a throat with a stern face to see each face. "Every stitcher needs a sewing stash. Did you bring into the classroom your personal carrying carpet bag?" Each girl lifted up into the air a carpet bag near a smile. Each carpet bag displayed different colors, such like, a green and yellow floral pattern or a brown and gold paisley design or a deep red and black swirling pattern of circles. Alice nodded with a smile. "Good. This is actually named a carpet bag with a body size of fifteen inches, by thirteen inches, and overall nineteen inches tall with a bull rope handle. The handle is covered in a colorful soft carpet which is complete with a real metal lock and latch but no key. It is a traveling bag which is made of actual flooring carpet that was used usually for holding the flooring furniture. The carpet materials at the time were composed of oriental rugs or chenille rugs which rested on top of the parlor room for receiving a set of nice southern guests. The size varies from a small purse to a large duffel bag which was very popular with all types of folks, during the Antebellum Era. And these old bags were the forefront of a physician's medical bag that was toted around in both hands during the Old West Era," she side stepped from the podium and moved ahead towards the first chair, stopping and stood in front of a tall and red-haired girl. She handed a small basket to the girl.

The girl selected a pair of scissors in silence and turned, passing the basket to the second girl with a smile.

Alice back stepped from the first chair and side stepped, moving back in place with a smile. "To begin a cross-stitch design, you will need a good sharp pair of scissors," she pointed at the small basket with a nod. "This basket contains numerous pairs of sewing scissors. Please select one and then keep the non-weapon inside your carpet bag when not in use here in class." She reached down and tapped on a twelve-inch pine wood square stand. "The stand holds a pretty twelve-inched mesh of white canvas. You are staring at a pine wood blocking board which is made of light weight wood with a pinable board covered in a white fabric. The fabric has been printed with a grid of squares. The grid is used as a guide for squaring the canvas during the blocking process, especially for beginners. Children as young as seven years old stitch needle point designs. So, do not become frustrated if you do not complete your first needlepoint project by the holiday weekend. Everyone works at their own pace with their love of stitching, creating their own intriguing style design. The eleven-count fiber canvas overlaps the wood by a few inches, which is quite proper and quite simple to handle, allowing the stitcher to stitch a thick beautifully colorful design. The needlepoint canvas has a series of large holes, seeing exactly where to place each stitch, but this should not be a problem with a belle, who possesses perfect eyesight," she side stepped and moved ahead, stopping and stood in front of the first chair for a second time, handing a smaller basket to the girl with a smile. The first chair with the red haired girl selected the item and then passed the basket to the next girl with a smile in silence. Alice back stepped and moved back in place at her needlepoint station, standing with a smile. "To work your new design, you will need a spool of embroidery floss and a cross-stitch needle. Please, select a palm-sized yarn roll..."

"It's puke green vomit colored," Chloe grabbed the smaller basket and examined the embroidery floss with a giggle and a grin.

"Two demerits, Miss Chloe!" Alice noted with a distorted face at her most troublesome belle. "Please, select a yarn roll and a needle package. Cross-stitches are worked in either yarn or wool on a canvas background while creating your needlepoint project. There are many different types of yarn, wool, and other pretty decorative threads that can be used but the tapestry yarn is the most common. The size of the needle depends entirely upon the size of the mesh of the needlepoint canvas. For example, a narrow needle should be used on fine-mesh canvas. A thicker needle is used on canvases with a set of larger-hole sizes. A good rule of thumb to remember, the higher the needle number the finer the needle tip, making certain to select the proper needle. The proper needles will pass through the canvas without much abrasion and then carries the thread through easily avoiding wear on the thread as you stitch. Your needle pack ranges in sizes from a sixteen sized tapestry to a twenty-two sized tapestry..."

"What's this one, Mistress Alice? It's really sharp," the teen belle was named Bethel. A dark skinned queen-sized girl wore a deep wine colored silk sleeveless blouse, a pair of big breasts, and a pair of black tinted jeans. She tapped a boot toe to an invisible musical song inside her head out of boredom, lightly pricking the needle tip, without harming the meat of her finger.

Alice smiled with a nod at Bethel. "O yes! That is a chenille needle which is included in your package but never be minded with that one, young belle. It holds a sharper point and a larger eye suited to other types of intense embroidery which will not be performed here in your needlepoint class at Antebellum House. You will be utilizing a size sixteen tapestry needle..."

"For babies," giggled Mary Margaret. She started working on the turtle with a pair of expert hands without any additional teacher instruction using the bright lime green floss. She sported a plain white shirt and a pair of black tinted jeans, thumping a pair of black and tan python-skinned cowgirl boot in a silent rhyme of country music inside her head.

Alice sidestepped and slowly moved ahead, stopping and stood in front Mary Margaret with a smile, "My, my, my! What a pleasant surprise for us! We do have a stitcher. Do you design in cross stitch needlepoint, as well, Miss Mary Margaret?"

Mary Margaret shook her black curls with a smile. "My grandma embroiders. I watched and stitched with her, since my grandma taught me the distinct differences in the variety of yarn strengths and the array of needle sizes."

"Would you care to elaborate for the belles the function of a size sixteen tapestry needle?" Alice nodded with a smile.

Mary Margaret pulled out two needles from the sewing package, lifting and displayed the thick metal first with a stern face. "This is a size sixteen tapestry needle. It is really a dull blunt point with a very large eye which is commonly used by a beginner to cross-stitch like a little seven-year-old child in the second grade," giggling. "The number sixteen needle makes it very easy to slip a dull tip through a great big hole in the fabric canvas without catching or splitting the threads of the canvas," she lifted a second hand with a thin needle and a stern face. "This is a size twenty-two needle with a very thin fine point for penetrating any type of outer surface without leaving a permanent mark on the fabric canvas while making the creation simply beautiful for your eyes," she dropped both hands and replaced the needles back into the sewing package, starting to work on the needlepoint turtle.

Alice clapped with a smile and a nod, "Very, very nice, Miss Mary Margaret! I'll be adding your name to the bonnet cap, this evening. The lady of honor title will be awarded, tomorrow morning. Now belles, back to our class room lesson. Please, remove a needle from the paper and hold it in the air for me to see." Each girl grabbed and lifted a needle near an eyeball with a sour frown, but Mary Margaret. Alice nodded with a smile. "Excellent, belles! Because you will be stitching on an eight inched mesh printed canvas using a blend of wool and acrylic yarn with an accent of cotton embroidery thread, you will design a familiar green turtle..."

"Puke vomit colored green turtle," Chloe slammed both the armrests of the chair with both hands with an evil laugh.

Alice frowned at the teen troublemaker, "Three demerits, so far, Miss Chloe!" She smiled to each girl. "You will cross-stitch a bright mint green turtle with a set of four fat legs, a short tail, and a short snout with a pair of electric blue eyeballs. A cross stitch is an X-shaped embroidery stitch from which the name of cross stitch is derived. Please, cut a twelve inched length of the six-strand embroidery floss and separate the strands of green floss. Thread the tapestry needle with two strands of the floss. Hold the wooden blocking board with a left hand, steadying the furniture and then place both boot toes around the single foot stand. Hold the needle with a right thumb and a forefinger in the air for me to see," she watched each girl and the needle with a stern face. "Do not grip the needle, too tightly. The canvas is made up of tiny squares. Pick a square of canvas near the center. Place your needle behind the white canvas and then insert the needle up through the square hole. Bring a right hand to the front of the canvas and then snatch that little boogier," giggling. "The needle should perch like a medieval prince sword up through the soft canvas. If it starts to fall out, then support the needle with a ring finger of your left hand..."

She yelled. "Ouch!" Peyton was five feet and six inches with a mousy brown ponytail, a pair of faded and ripped blue jeans, and a pink shirt.

"Support the needle, dear. Don't attack it. Are you bleeding, Miss Peyton?" Alice frowned with worry at the teen belle.

Peyton studied the bloody ring finger with a worried brow and a set of tears, "Yes ma'am."

She exhaled with a puff of annoyance and pointed to the closed door that led into the breezeway. "Go to kitchen, darling. Stand in the archway. One of the food servers will carry you across the lawn towards Doc Martin's cottage in the north pasture. He will doctor your wound. Go on, dear!"

Peyton slowly stood upright from the sofa and carefully moved ahead, avoiding the rest of the chairs and the other wooden hoop stands, stopping and reached out with the other hand, grabbing the door knob. The door opened. She dashed through the open archway, streaming a set of tears from the intense throbbing pain of the sharp needle on her finger with a set of soft sobs.

Alice watched the other belles work on the green turtle with a stern face. "Grasp the needle and then draw the floss up through the hole. Do not pull the floss completely out. Leave a kitty cat tail of two inches on the back of the canvas. Draw the thread across the square diagonally. Take a right hand to the back of the fabric and then pull the needle and floss through a hole in the upper right hand corner. Take care to leave the end of the floss on the back of the fabric. Do not pull the stitch, too tightly. Leave the floss a little loose. You have just stitched a half stitch. With a right hand at the back of the canvas, you insert the needle into the lower right corner of the square directly below the top of the half stitch. Draw the needle and floss up to the top of the canvas and then flip the wooden blocking square over. Keep your needle in a right hand.

"In the rear of the canvas, use your needle to drag the kitty cat tail of the floss under the loop formed by the back of the stitch. Gently tighten the floss to secure the end under the loop. Insert the tip of the needle in the upper left corner of the canvas square. Move your hand to the back of the fabric and draw the floss through. Flip the hoop over. On the back of the hoop, slip the needle under the back of the stitch and pull the floss through. Tighten the floss. Snip the existing kitty cat tail and the floss in the needle, leaving about a half inch of floss. Use your needle to adjust the floss as needed, or pull on the ends of the floss to tighten the stitch up a little, if needed. When you are comfortable with stitching a cross stitch, the next step will be to learn how to stitch a row of cross stitches."

"Ug," one of the belles yelled with a sour frown.

"Argh," another belle shouted with a distorted face.

"Eww," another one of the belles screams with an ugly brow.

Alice smiled with a nod. "By the holiday break, you will have cross-stitched a lovely turtle which can be utilized for a flat decorative doily inside your private chambers here at Antebellum House or for your adoring mama at your birth homestead."
Tuesday August 5th

First college academic subject

Needlepoint class location

09:17 a.m.

Classroom setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The second daylight of Antebellum House brought another round of sewing class.

Alice slowly strolled around each wooden hoop with a stern face and assessed each cross-stitch work, stopping and stood in front of her star student with a smile, "Miss Mary Margaret, outstanding! You're a talented stitcher. It is my pleasure to watch you work your magical fingers with that needle. Belles, Miss Mary Margaret has almost completed her turtle and it has only been twenty-four hours."

"I worked my assignment through the night." Mary Margaret nodded with a smile. The other belles snorted with meanness and gave a nasty finger sign behind the black colored rear hairy skull of Mary Margaret.

"Miss Alice, you make our work seem more like a competition instead of a...a piece of art work." Chloe rubbed all the sore and tender finger pads from stabbing the needle through the tough fabric for the electric blue eyeballs of a little monster turtle. The needlepoint art will not be finished by holiday of the year 2020, when she finally graduated from college.

Alice stood over the hair roots of Mary Margaret and watched the needlepoint work, speaking to Chloe. "Dear, competition is good for the soul. You are a southern belle. You will encounter situations where you will not win or lose but learn integrity which is a very important southern belle trait," she back stepped from Mary Margaret and moved back to her needlepoint station, sitting down inside the beige colored loveseat.

The door opened. Mistress Deborah entered the room and moved ahead, stopping and leaned down with a whisper and a stern face into the cheekbone of Alice. Alice dropped open a mouth while scanning each belle and then viewed Deborah for a second time. Deborah stood upright with a nod in silence. Alice stood upright from the sofa with a nod, turning and exited the classroom with a stern face in silence.

Deborah occupied the empty loveseat and cleared a throat, looking at each girl. "Girls, I have some very bad news. We might have to shut down Antebellum House." Each girl gasped in shock. She nodded with a stern face. "The university has not renewed the lease of the land for the rest of the remaining calendar year. There seems to be some kind of misunderstanding between the university that owns the building and the new landowner, who owns the property. The war is not going well for either side of a legal battle. To make a short story very short, Antebellum House might have to pay out the sixty-three thousand dollars by the thirty first of December of this year to keep the landowner from tearing down our historical building."

The teen named Emma wore a yellow shirt with a pair of faded and ripped blue jeans, and a pair of pink and yellow ostrich cowgirl boots. She gasped with a worried brow. "But Miss Deborah, Antebellum House was the first building built on the Birmingham University campus in the year 1814, even before the land became the US State of Alabama."

Deborah nodded with a stern face. "I know that, dear."

"Where does the university stand on the legal fight, Miss Deborah," Trinity wore a tan shirt, a pair of aqua colored jeans, a pair of red and tan alligator cowgirl boots with a tone of pale complexion and a head of light brown curls.

"The university is not commenting publicly at the moment. They are negotiating with the landowner. I hope that they could reach some type of common legal agreement soon." Deborah exhaled with a puff of worry without smiling.

Emma whined. "And us? This is our legacy left by our mamas for the past 200 years."

Deborah nodded with a stern face. "I completely understand, girls. And for some more bad news, I fear that I must leave all of you for a few months, also. My elder parents are very sick. I'll be returning to my home town today. As a matter of fact, my luggage is in my car. I wish all of us good luck. I have faith in the administration of Burn U. Ladies, I shall return back here after the Thanksgiving holiday. There is..."

"But, we're supposed to be chaperoned here at Antebellum House." Mary Margaret whined with a pout.

Chloe frowned. "This ain't the year 1861, Mary Margaret. We're all eighteen years old or older. We don't need mama and daddy, holding a left hand, walking us to kindergarten class on the first day of school, sweet-tart," she chuckled with the other belles.

Deborah nodded with a stern face. "Chloe is absolutely correct. You are over the age of eighteen years old. Your parents, the other teachers, and I will not be visually present for a couple of months. Your academics studies have always been provided by a series of on-line tutoring sessions which is done inside your private bedroom without the aid of a vocal instructor. It would seem that the university has generously given the entire Antebellum House service staff some very needed but very inconvenient vacation days," exhaling.

"Mistress Deborah," Peyton frowned with worry.

She stood upright from the sofa with a smile. "Girls, our Antebellum House is completely furnished with everything you need from a set of bedroom blankets to cabinets of dishes for each breakfast meal. A pre-arranged alternative house staff will come in three times per day to cook your meals and clean your messes, since your parents have paid for this service to the university. By the time I return, I believe that everything will be worked out for our further enjoyment and entertainment. Don't worry! Now, everyone come and gimme a hug." She lifted and extended both arms for a motherly hug. Each belle stood upright from the sofa and swiftly dashed ahead, stopping and hugged Deborah with a smile of tears. Then each belle pulled back and wiped off the tears of sadness, staring at the mistress of Antebellum House.

"We'll walk you out to your car, Mistress Deborah." Emma nodded with a smile to Deborah.

Deborah nodded with her own set of sad tears and spun around to face the open archway, slowly leading each belle out classroom, onto the breezeway, down the front steps, and towards her personal car that was parked in front of the building.

Inside the archway of the needlepoint room, Jocelyn spun around and stopped, standing inside the doorway with a sneer. She was the oldest student at Antebellum House, living here since last August. She slammed an upright body into the two new belles who were named Trinity and Mary Margaret, cuddling them into a tight huddle. Jocelyn reached out with a stern face and grabbed the arm of Mary Margaret, bad breathing into the face of the new teen girl. "Mary Margaret, I know you're new here as a freshman, but your parents are one of the wealthier families at Antebellum House, maybe on the entire Burn U campus. I'm Jocelyn, by the way. I've been here for four years, almost ready to graduate. And I don't need this shit happening to me. Okay?" She turned and nodded to the second teen girl. "Ask your daddy for some money, too, Trinity? I'm asking the same question, since my daddy is rich but greedy and selfish and controlling and dominating. You and I understand each other really well. Just ask? Okay? I'm thinking out loud here. If our parents can contribute part of the money to save our house, then we might could come up with the rest of the monies."

"Doing what?" Mary Margaret frowned.

Jocelyn turned and winked to Trinity. "Performing some tricks!"

Mary Margaret frowned with puzzlement into the face of Jocelyn. "Do you mean like perform a series of car washes and bake some chocolate cookies like we all did in high school to collect the entire lump sum of 63000 dollars for Antebellum House. That's okay. I guess. But I'll ask my daddy. Please, do not expect too much from him," exhaling. Jocelyn nodded with a stern face to each belle in silence and hope.
Wednesday August 6th

Belle Parlor room location

Interior setting

07:45 am

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Each girl had devoured the breakfast meal in a pair of pajamas and then followed the ass of the leader into the belle parlor room with a sad face, sitting down inside an individual colorful loveseat.

Jocelyn sat inside a garnet colored cloth loveseat and sipped on a tumbler of orange juice, after woofing down the breakfast meal at 7:30 a.m. She faced all the female students of Antebellum House with a smile. "I would like a report, please. What is the consensus of collecting any monies from your mama, your daddy, your grandma, your grandpa, and your trust fund? And don't tell me that you don't have a trust fund, because we are all trust fund princess babies," giggling.

"Fuck off," Emma sat inside a beige and green patterned fruit grape covered loveseat alone with a giggle and a grin.

Trinity sat inside the brown and red horse covered loveseat and turned with a confused brow to see Emma. "Jeezus, did your daddy really tell you those exact words?"

Emma smiled with a nod. "Well, he said it more like this. You can come back home, honey. Take all the academic on-line classes from Burn U on your personal laptop, sugar. You will be locked inside your private bedroom, darling. You will be far away from the world and any roaming aliens that happened to land on our front yard, girl. When do I send the limo, sweetheart?" she shook her curls with the rest of the belles.

Chloe sat on top of a red covered leather loveseat with a smile. "First, my dad asked tons of nosy questions that I lied with tons of answers, since he's too damn nosy. Second, my mom asked me almost all the same tons of questions which I used the same tons of lies, because she's nosier. Then we, three got on a three-way chat, talking about useless shit. My parents know about the sixty-three-thousand-dollar debt to the mysterious landowner, but they are not going to contribute one penny, even if it is find on top of the country club's parking lot by the valet driver. They didn't give a shit about the land, the landowner, or me. Because if Antebellum House closes, then I go back home to Bellport under both gun and guard like a fucking convicted prisoner."

Trinity tossed both arms with a smile and a nod. "Ditto over here to me, darling! Daddy pretty much told me not to worry my pretty head about it, since I will be coming back home soonest, when the House closes."

Mary Margaret sat on top of a black and white square pattern loveseat with a nod and a stern face. "I find this all very strange. Didn't ya'll?"

"Not when money is evolved, it is the root of all evil." Bethel sat on top of a purple and white flower patterned loveseat and sipped, swallowing the tumbler of orange juice.

Jocelyn nodded with a worried brow to each girl. "We have a unanimous unhappiness of no from each set of parents along with no access from an overflowing set of money bank accounts. So, we're going to fight back with everything we got."

"Fight back?" Trinity frowned at Jocelyn.

Jocelyn smiled with a nod. "That's too strong of a word. How about flirt back?" She winked at Trinity.

"What are you trying to say here, Jocelyn?" Emma giggled with a grin.

Jocelyn leaned down and rested the empty tumbler over the floor and then stood upright from the loveseat. She was tall at six feet and two inches and flung off the red tinted pajama robe, exposing all her vivacious curves. A set of spaghetti strands was attached to the red colored lace cami top that barely covered a pair of pink tinted big breasts. She wore a pair of shorty-short red colored lace shorts over a smooth curved ass and a hidden vagina.

Mary Margaret felt funny staring at semi-naked tall and sexy Jocelyn, struggling with some internal deep raw emotional sensations, overtaking an active mind with a nasty dance. She frowned. "You dress like that for bed." She wore a pair of silk baby blue pajamas in white duck patterns on the fabric. A long-sleeved top and a matching pair of long-legged pajamas with a properly covered matching pajama robe that covered the pajamas which was coupled with a pair of matching bed slippers over the naked feet.

"Naw, I wear my birthday suit when I sleep." Jocelyn reached down and caressed a breast with a giggle and a grin. Each belle watched the swirling dance of five slender fingers that went around and around the nipple of leader Jocelyn. Mary Margaret liked what her eyeballs saw and as, her set of own nipples tingled at the girly peek show.

Jocelyn smiled at each girl. "Belles, I use that word purposefully. We have been sent here to Antebellum House by our precious biological mamas and daddies for several reasons. One, each one is to graduate with a post-graduate degree for a future job which is within an established and prosperous family business. Right?"

"Right!" Emma nodded with a smile.

Jocelyn released the breast and parked both hands on the waistline with a nod and a smile to each girl. "Two, each one gets out of a house, so our parents can fuck each other on top of the low coffee table, without their innocent teenager around..."

"Yucko! You're gross, Jocelyn." Mary Margaret moaned with a sour frown.

Chloe giggled with a nod. "But so true. One time, I accidentally caught my parents..."

"We don't want to hear that nasty tale, Chloe." Mary Margaret looked down with a sour frown to see the bed slippers.

"I do but later, Chloe." Emma turned and winked with a giggle at Chloe.

"Three, you have avoided the opposite sex which is a boy for years." Jocelyn nodded with a smile.

Emma cleared a throat with a smile. "I'm a virgin."

"Me, too," Jocelyn giggled with a nod.

"Me, three," Trinity giggled with a nod.

"Ditto!" Bethel smiled with a nod.

"Ditto baby, over here, babe!" Peyton waved a hand as the other belles nodded in silence.

"I'm not." Chloe turned and smirked at the nose profile of Mary Margaret, "And?"

She looked up with a smile to see leader Jocelyn. "I am proud to say that I am a virgin as well." Mary Margaret tightly wrapped the robe around a flat chest with a breast size of 32AA smallness.

Jocelyn smiled with a nod. "Well, here we are today a house of virgins that are about to lose their house at Burn U for lack of money, not the lack of sex."

"Sex? What the hell are you talking about, Jocelyn?" Emma frowned with worried mystery.

Trinity winked at Jocelyn. "Let Jocelyn finish her lecture, Emma. I believe each one of us kinda knows what she's proposing but we are too afraid to voice."

Jocelyn nodded with a smile. "Thanks, Trinity. Since the beginning of recorded history, sex and money have bedded each other for a single mutual purpose."

"No," Mary Margaret shook her curls with a sour frown.

"Shut up, Mary Margaret." Chloe sneered.

Jocelyn reached down and caressed the other nipple on the breast with a grin. "We have a mutual purpose for some money, specifically sixty-three thousand dollars. And we have mutual pretty belles in a row."

"No." Mary Margaret shook her curls with a sour frown.

"Shut it, Mary Margaret." Emma sneered.

Jocelyn sat back on top of the robe inside the loveseat with a grin, parting both long legs wide, exposing the curly pubic red flaming hair inside her vagina that was hanging out of the lacey-lace shorts. "Belles, our parents over the past years have been the guardians of our virginity. I bet if I had a million dollars which I do when I turn twenty year years old after getting that doctorate degree in something as dictated by daddy here at Burn U that you like me were only allowed to date certain types of boys in high school and allowed to attend certain types of parties in high school and socialized with certain types of kids in high school. Well, belles, open your fucking eyeballs. We are finally free. Deborah ain't here, since her parents are ill. The school ain't watching us, since we're of legal age at eighteen and don't need chaperones. And our parents ain't watching us, since they have paid their monies to maintain Antebellum House for our personal educational, social and, entertain needs."

"What are you scheming here with us at Antebellum House, Jocelyn?" Bethel frowned with confusion.

"No." Mary Margaret shook her curls with a sour frown.

"Shut up, Mary Margaret." Emma sneered.

Jocelyn extended both arms to each side with a smile, "Lookie! I do not want to leave Antebellum House. I have been here four years. I like the school. I like my old and new belles. I like being away from my parents, who smother me with too much love, too much protection, and too much guardianship-ness or whatever. I am like you. You are like me. My daddy is like your daddy, Emma. And my mama is like your mama, Trinity. They expect me to be a true southern belle, sacrificing my fun for my future."

Mary Margaret pondered the words of Jocelyn. She was overprotected by her parents too, since they told her when to get up, what to wear, and who to date. Like the time, she was escorted by that boy to a church picnic, a date provided by her dad on Sunday afternoon in front of her parents and then entire congregation of three hundred eyeballs.

Emma tossed both arms into the air with a nod and a smile. "I heard you loud and clear, girlfriend. We were sent here to Antebellum House, specifically not to date any boys and then overseen for that specific purpose by Deborah. She'll never allow boys here. Period!"

"We have dances with boys on Friday nights, games with boys on Saturday night, and picnics with boys on Sunday afternoon. Mama told me that. Since, my mom attended Antebellum House and then graduated from Burn U and then married Daddy." Bethel nodded with a smile.

"Certain boys have been approved by our parents, who have been instructed to Miss Deborah for these certain types of social activities here at Antebellum House." Emma nodded with a stern face.

"What are you plotting towards, Jocelyn?" Trinity frowned.

Jocelyn smiled with a nod. "We little belles are a sellable commodity."

"No." Mary Margaret shook her palms and her curls with a sour frown.

"Hush it, Mary Margaret!" Emma sneered.

Jocelyn smiled with a nod. "Boys want sex. We are all sexy girls. Boys love virgins. We are all sexy virgins."

Emma gasped in shock. "You want us to sell our virgin bodies for sex and then get the money to pay the landowner to save our Antebellum House."

"You were valedictorian of your school, right, Emma?" Trinity turned and giggled to Emma.

Emma turned and smile to Trinity. "Why yes? I was one of twelve valedictorians at my high school."

Mary Margaret shook both her hands and her curls with a sour frown. "This is Antebellum House, not Whore House. These words ain't written in a black tinted magic marker on the outside of our building."

"All sorority dorms have a few whores, Mary Margaret." Chloe giggled with a nod.

"Not the entire house, Chloe!" Mary Margaret shook her curls and crossed both arms in fury.

"Brilliant plan," Bethel grinned with a nod to Jocelyn.

Spring turned and smiled at her twin sister. "I..."

"...love," Autumn turned and smiled back at her twin sister.

Trinity nodded with a smile. "I get to finally kiss a boy."

"Geez! You've never kissed a boy." Chloe turned and gasped at the nose profile of Trinity.

"Naw," Trinity exhaled with a puff of disappointment.

Jocelyn smiled with a nod. "Lookie here, belles! We are a sisterhood, since our great-great grandmomma's time here at Antebellum House. That's why we all have been sent to Antebellum House to follow our grandma's and mama's sandal steps. Each generation makes their own mark at Burn U. This will be our contribution, saving literally our House from destruction for our un-born daughters."

"Yeehaw!" Emma tossed both arms into the air with a cheer.

"Boom!" Bethel tossed both arms into the air with a smile.

"Go, girl!" Peyton waved both hands in the air with a grin.

"I am a blue blood princess." Mary Margaret looked down with a worried brow to see the hands which gently rested inside a lap without viewing Jocelyn. "I'm saving my virginity for my future husband."

Chloe winked with a smile at Jocelyn. "And I can tell you that your future husband will appreciate a practiced hand along with five practiced manicured fingernails," she lifted up into the air and wiggled all the fingers with a giggle. Mary Margaret stared down at the white duck on the robe with a worried brow in silence.

"Who is in? Stand up and rebel yell to me?" Jocelyn ripped off the clothing and stood upright naked with a smile and a nod. The other belles stood upright and did not rip off the pajamas with Jocelyn for acceptance with a series of claps and cheers. Mary Margaret continued to stare at the duck patterned white silk slippers with a worried brow in silence.

Jocelyn smiled with a nod. "Excellent, belles!"

Trinity frowned with confusion. "Jocelyn, I like your idea. But I don't know how to..."

"Fuck! Make love. Have sex!" Chloe giggled with a nod. "Don't be afraid to say the words, since you're going to do the action for the money."

"Chloe is our teacher." Jocelyn pointed with a nod to Chloe.

"Since, she is a true whore." Mary Margaret turned and giggled at the nose profile of Chloe.

"That is sister whore over here. We are a sisterhood here." Jocelyn sat down and wrapped the robe back around her nakedness, narrowing both eyelashes at Mary Margaret with a sneer. Mary Margaret bowed a chin down into her chest and stared at her pajama covered legs with a sour frown. Jocelyn turned and smiled to the teen. "Chloe, what do we do first?"

Chloe exhaled with a puff of nervousness and looked down to see the floor and back to see Jocelyn with a smile. "It is not yet eight in the morning. At nine sharp, we all meet inside the ballroom. I want you to rip off the bedspread cover, the bed blanket, and the top bed sheet from your bedroom mattress and bring the bed pillow. And I want everyone to go upstairs and take a bath, so you smell good, because we're going to do some floor exercises, since the ballroom is empty. And I bring a dark bathing towel. And last but not least, I want you to dress in a pajamas robe, only."

"Do you mean to stay in our pj's? That time period is in the middle of the morning, Chloe, usually I am dressed in a set of real clothes." Peyton frowned with confusion.

"No, I mean to wear nothing underneath the pajamas robe but your birthday suit. Be naked!" Chloe giggled with a nod.

"What for, Chloe?" Bethel gasped in shock.

"Chloe is our new teacher. Everyone is to obey the instructor. Now, get going! I will see everyone downstairs here at nine sharp." Jocelyn tossed both arms into the air with a smile and a nod. Each belle stood upright from the loveseat with a grin and a giggle, strolling ahead and turned, moving around the outside front porch, since the belle staircase was really haunted with a set of she-ghosts.

Chloe stood in place and watched each belle leave the parlor room, dashing ahead and blocked the open archway with a set of extended arms, since she was the same height and weight of the advancing belle. Mary Margaret slowly moved ahead towards the archway and the ass of Chloe, stopping with a sour frown. Chloe spun around and continued to block the archway, leaning down into the face of Mary Margaret with a sour snarl of bad breath. "Ya betta not tattle to no one, bitch, about our sisterhood secret, since I don't carry my pen knife in my lace hanky for show. Do you hear my words, princess?" Mary Margaret turned and faced Jocelyn, who had moved ahead and stood beside the nose profile of Mary Margaret with a sneering silence threat too. Mary Margaret nodded in silence to Jocelyn and spun around to see Chloe with a stern face.

Chloe side stepped from the block archway. Mary Margaret moved ahead and turned, slowly strolling around the outside front porch towards her private bedroom suite. Chloe watched the ass of Mary Margaret through the glass windows with a sneer. "She's going to be a problem, Jocelyn."

"Naw. She's just frightened like a little puppy. We find her a nice beau that'll treat her right from the start. Then, Mary Margaret will be okay with our little show pay." Jocelyn spun around and watched the wiggling ass of Mary Margaret. The shy belle disappeared around the corner of the building towards the wing of bedrooms also.

The belles traveled a familiar route out from the belle parlor room, over the front porch, turning to the right, and then strolled down the eastern side wall of pink granite. They turned again and marched through a set of glass double doors and climbed a grand marble staircase that led into an individual bedroom suite inside the belle wing.

Inside the belle parlor room, Chloe moved ahead and marched back into the parlor room, selecting and sitting down inside an ugly apple green leather loveseat. She leaned back into the fabric, tucking both legs underneath the bathrobe with a giggle and a nod to Jocelyn. "You're a natural leader and a sneaky little cunt, Jocelyn. I can't believe you're still a virgin. And I find it hard to believe that this delicate dilemma just fell into our hands like it was fated."

Jocelyn sat down inside the closest loveseat of orange and tan patterned fruit peaches with a smile at Chloe. "To address your first query, I'm a virgin. No thanks to my over careful and over cautious parents. We, three lived at the same address for eighteen years before dumping me under the protection of Miss Deborah at Antebellum House. And to address your second quiz, I'm clueless along with my parents. I quizzed them pretty good about the money issue associated with the land deed. My daddy prides himself on sharing with my mama the latest and greatest university gossip, since they both had graduated from here. He did not seem to know and definitely did not seem to truly care about the money or land as long as his baby girl was safe, not happy."

Chloe nodded with a sour frown. "Ditto here, darling! I like your term: safe, not happy. My parents expressed the same concerns for me and not our House. One, it pisses me off. Two, it means that I go back home to fuck the same old local rednecks again. So, here's my easy question. What night is the fucking or what fucking night? Question number two: how much do we charge a lucky beau for each fucking trick of a southern belle? The third hard question: who are the group of lucky beaus that will receive a fucking ass pleasure of a beautiful belle?"

Jocelyn shook her red curls with a stern face, "Jeezus, don't use that word trick. It means me feel cheap, cheap chick-ee-poo," she looked down with a smile to see the electronic calendar on her personal mobile telephone. "Let's see. I suggest that we do our fucking night on Friday. There's no academic class the next day for a set of well-satisfied and paying hunky beaus and the football game is always on Saturday afternoon or night. You can't find a fucking beau before, during, or after that football game, so that blows the entire Saturday for any fucking session. And you can forget anytime on Sunday day or night, since based on my mama Almighty God will strike me down with a yellowish-white bright flaming lightning bolt, if I don't go to church preaching service. So, if I count up the remaining weekends precisely until the sixteenth of December, there are four Fridays in September including this weekend with four more Fridays in October. That is eight really good and available nights," she looked up with a smile to see Chloe.

"We should plan for a special Halloween fuck fest." Chloe giggled with a nod.

Jocelyn giggled with a nod. "That is both a great idea and a great theme title for Halloween show. You're a good bitch-whore, Chloe. Ah! Halloween falls on a Friday, too. That's still a total of only eight available nights. Gawd! All this talk of fucking sex is making me hot and heated inside my almost naked body," she reached up and fanned a heated face with a giggle.

"That is called a heat of horny lust. And just wait, it gets better," she giggled.

Jocelyn frowned. "Wait? For what?"

"Just, wait!" She smiled.

Jocelyn looked down with a smile to see the calendar on the mobile phone. "In the month of November, there are four more Fridays."

Chloe nodded. "You should cut out the last two Fridays for the Thanksgiving holiday. The school is traditional open, but students are traditional closed in both mind and body going straight to their parents' home for the weekends to eat and goof off."

She smiled. "Good point! That makes eight plus two equals ten available Friday nights of fucking to raise all the money, before payday. Easy! We own sixty-three thousand dollars which his divided by twelve belles. That equals 5,250 dollars for each belle to acquire per her vagina. And twelve belles divided by ten Friday nights is 525 dollars-per-charge for a beau, unless she can handle two beaus for the night."

Chloe shook her curls. "We can't charge five hundred per beau."

"Why, not? It calculates really easy on the cell."

"Jocelyn, we're college students and inexperienced. The local best practiced whore in downtown Birmingham charges between two to three hundred dollars for a fucking trick."

"Well, shit, Chloe! We're virgins all of us, except for you," she giggled. "We should get a few more dollars for that earth shattering heavenly feat."

"We charge a few more dollars, not a few more hundred dollars. I'm telling you that we can only charge two hundred dollar or no beau or no go for which ever tickles your red lace panties."

"If I calculate two hundred dollars at the going rate which is divided by sixty-three thousand dollars..."

"I can figure that one out in my smart brains. It is twenty-six available Fridays..."

"That's half a year," frowned Jocelyn.

Chloe winked with a smile. "It's okay, girl best. Now, you figured out that we will do the 'wild thing' on Friday night and charge two hundred dollar per beau. Who are the beaus? We can't just invite any hot boy from campus. We need the right beau with the right bucks," laughing.

She nodded with a smile. "Yes, I have a brilliant solution to your query, belle. My cousin Jerk..."

"Jake." Chloe frowned.

"No. My cousin named Jerk."

"Why do you have a cousin who is named Jerk?" Chloe giggled with Jocelyn.

"Jerk was the nicer of the two words between a jackass or a jerk. My mom told me that I could rename my dumbass cousin who is the son of her shit ass sister that neither one of us likes but tolerates. She overruled me and insisted upon Jerk. He's a real jerk too but popular and smart. I'm going to get cousin Jerk to help me select the most eligible beaus among the student body of boys at Burn U for our beautiful belles. He graduated last year. He knows the best and brightest from the dull and dumbest beaus. We should get a very nice bunch of beefy boys."

"Beefy boys? We want billionaire brats. Can you really trust a jerk, Jocelyn? We really need the money to come from a boy that has an excess of funds that is overflowing from their personal piggy banks. Look! We don't want just the good-looking jocks or the handsome rednecks. We can't rely on second-hand old datum, Jocelyn. We get one shot at this multiplied by ten and then the tall skinny belle sings. I don't know about your Jerk cousin."

Jocelyn smiled. "Prime, sister! I have something that cousin Jerk wants really badly."

"What?" Chloe frowned.

"Something really badly that will make cousin Jerk do me this great big favor. Then, he will be paid off good. Jerk will help us." Jocelyn nodded with a laugh.

Ballroom location

Interior setting

08:58 a.m.

Jocelyn stood in front of the closed windows in a red colored bathrobe with a red velveteen bedcover and a set of matching bed linens beside Chloe inside the ballroom, minus a pair of spying eyeballs from the numerous staff members. The service staff was located off the campus grounds, because they had finished the breakfast clean up.

Chloe motioned each belle inside the ballroom with a smile in silence.

Emma led the belles first and stopped, standing on the far side which was opposite of Jocelyn, turning to scan the room. The windows were closed and the furniture was missing. "Where are the sofas? The ballroom is empty. My stuffing is going to get dirty on the floor."

"The floor is clean, Emma. The maid service does an excellent job of keeping this place sparkling pretty and pine woodlands smelly." Bethel entered the ballroom and scooted a pair of naked feet further down the row from prissy Emma.

"Should've we go to our academic classes first and then do our exercises in the evening after the suppertime meal?" Peyton moved ahead and passed by prissy Emma and bossy Bethel, stopping and stood last in the row of upright belles. Trinity sat down on the floor in a bathrobe beside Emma with a smile.

Jocelyn sat down on the floor in a red colored bathroom robe and the matching bed linens with a smile. "Our classes are all on-line. We do not attend any physical classes, compliments of our mama and daddy. Remember? There is no boy-toy interaction."

"Right," Bethel sat down on top of the bed linens on the floor and turned with a smile to see her Tyleigh, who sat on top of her bed linens with a nod in silence.

Chloe sat down over the floor on top of the bed linens with a hand wave and a smile. "Get in here, belles! Park your ass in front of a brown bag. We got lots of work before Friday evening with the beaus. Hurry your lazy ass, Mary Margaret, over at the end of the row," she watched the ass of slow poke Mary Margaret with a growl. Mary Margaret stumbled on the pair of bed slippers, hugging a baby blue set of bed linens like a teddy bear into the mint green colored bath robe, slowly maneuvering at the end of the line.

The other belles prettily posed from the left to the right of Jocelyn and Chloe, starting with Emma, Trinity, Spring, Autumn, Tyleigh, Bethel, Peyton, Zoey, Naomi, and then Mary Margaret.

Spring turned and frowned at her twin sister, "Friday..."

".... night," Autumn turned and frowned at her sister.

Chloe giggled at the twins, who were both adorably cute and wittingly entertaining as a pair of dumb blonde belles. They would fetch a pretty nice price for the new lost cause of Antebellum House. Chloe stood upright on top of the bed linens with a smile and a short demonstration of her words. "Look at me! Listen to me! Do as I do! I am teacher here. Fold the bedspread in half then lay on the floor in a vertical position. Now, fold the blanket in half, lay it on top of your bedspread. Now, fold the linen sheet in half, place it over the blanket. Lay your pillow at the top of the linen, pretending this is a bed."

Mary Margaret stood upright on top of the naked floor with a sour frown, without following the orders of Chloe, hugging all the bed linens into the chest. "No, I'm not doing this."

Chloe turned and sneered at Mary Margaret. "This is practice, Mary Margaret."

"Do it, Mary Margaret!" Bethel placed the pillow at the head of the bed sheet with a sneer and stood upright with a smile on top of her bed creation.

"We're all practicing, Mary Margaret." Trinity squatted down on kneecaps, making up the hot pink bedcovers into a mini-bed with a smile.

"What about the towel?" Emma stood upright on top of the linen bed sheet, holding the folded towel, staring at Chloe with a smile.

Chloe smiled with a nod. "Fold the bathing towel in quarters and place it on top of the pillow for the moment. Now, sit back down on top of your new semi-soft bed," she sat down and turned with a nod to see Jocelyn, "Your turn, Jocelyn! Tell them about Friday night and stuff!"

Jocelyn crossed both legs and lifted both arms into the air to communicate with a smile. "The fucking night, that's a great description, ya'll. Friday is the selected evening of our beau entertainment. The selected beau will park his personal vehicle outside our gate house, since no guest transports are allowed on our property as told by Miss Deborah."

She puffed with a sour frown. "Now, we follow our House rules." Mary Margaret sat down on top of the uncomfortable set of bed linens, the bed spread, and the pillow with a pair of crossed-legs. She double-wrapped the mint green flower-patterned pajamas robe around a body, staring at a poor dying cockroach that was trying to survive the pest control spray in the far left corner of the ballroom with a deep sigh, listening to Jocelyn.

"Shut up, Mary Margaret." Chloe turned and sneered at the troublesome teen.

Jocelyn smiled with a smile. "Then, the beau will be personally chaffered in a limousine which will be provided by our House which is part of our mama and daddy's yearly maintenance fee of the property upkeep from the gate irons down the long gravel road, coming into the belle parlor room. I will meet and greet him outside in the Dogtrot breezeway, collecting the money, before he meets and greets you." The belles giggled with a nod. She smiled. "Then, he will come inside the ballroom and select a belle."

"Question, Jocelyn?" Emma waved both arms with a smile.

Jocelyn turned and frowned at prissy Emma, shaking her curls. "Let me finish the belle fairy tale first and then ask away. The beau will have no prior information of you, such like, your last name, your home address, your native state. Some of us live outside of Alabama. On the flip side of the greenbacks, we're collecting no shared datum either. That is his last name, his home address, his native state, since this is a business arrangement. Now, after our business arrangement is done and completed, you can fuck around with this dude as much as you want. Remember? Miss Deborah is due back right after Thanksgiving holiday as we are going back home with our parents for the holidays. This is our only opportunity to play house. So, once again, Miss Deborah will become a bull dog, allowing no more beaus at Antebellum House..."

"...much less in our private chamber suites," Trinity grinned.

Jocelyn nodded with a smile, "Right-o! The total amount of money to be raised and collected is sixty-three thousand dollars. When it is divided by twelve belles, it becomes 5,250 dollars a piece of fucking work," giggling. "We will have ten Fridays to collect the money which will be 525 dollars, each night."

"I am only getting a total of 525 dollars to fuck me. Naw, I am a virgin. I want at least a one thousand dollars to enter my precious unguarded princess temple." Emma shook her hands and curls.

"Virgin. Vain. Vicious. Which one is your name real name, Emma?" Trinity giggled.

Jocelyn exhaled. "The asking price for a night with you is two hundred dollars." Each girl sounded with a series of boos and hisses, including Mary Margaret for fun. Jocelyn frowned. "That's the going rate, so I have been told."

"Chloe told as a big bitch-whore." Emma giggled.

Chloe sneered. "Shut it, Emma."

Jocelyn smiled, "Back to business, belles! The beau will be escorted by me here into the ballroom, where each beauty will be seated individually prettily upon a settee. Then, the beau makes his selection for the evening."

"I wanna a tall handsome guy. I don't want another short dork like my prom date that my dad got for me last year." Emma frowned.

"Me, too! My daddy should meet your daddy, Emma." Trinity turned and grinned at Emma.

"Naw. Then, we both with be married to short dorks as a future husband." Emma nodded to Trinity.

"Good point, Emma!" Trinity giggled with a nod.

Bethel turned and frowned at Tyleigh. "I ain't fucking no white boy, girl best."

Jocelyn smiled with a nod to each face. "Don't worry! There are twelve girls with twelve guys color-coordinated to suite, belles," she giggled with the belles.

Chloe leaned over with a smile and a whisper to Jocelyn. "Psss! I have another thought about that twelve-man concept, but I will share that later with you, Jocelyn," she sat back with an evil laugh and stared at each belle.

"I don't trust that bitch." Emma leaned over with a whisper into Trinity.

Trinity whispered back with a stern face, "Me, too."

"You possess a white card and an ink pen underneath the brown bag." Jocelyn lifted and wiggled both objects in front of a face. "Please, I want you to jolt down your dream beau in terms of physical and personality attributes..."

Emma frowned. "You just said that the beau will make the belle selection. What's the point in writing down my preference of big, strong, handsome...?"

"Deaf, dumb and blind, only for Emma," Bethel giggled with the other belles.

"Shut it, Bethel," Emma sneered.

Jocelyn dropped the arms with the object and nodded with a smile. "I know that. I'm going to combine all the belle preferences when selecting the twelve beaus. We will appear like a row of lovely flower mixture, consisting of a rose on a thick green prickly thorn to a delicate lily to a great big yellow sun flower. Each beau will look handsome and act gentlemanly. I promise."

"Can you guarantee the gentlemanly part, Jocelyn?" Trinity frowned with concern.

"No. She can't. That's going to be your second job when we all meet on Saturday morning for breakfast to discuss our victories or deflates." Chloe nodded with a smile.

Jocelyn exhaled. "I guess there is going to be a lot of Saturday morning meetings. But let's stick with the first evening of this Friday..."

"Gawd. Do you mean this coming Friday evening which is in four more days?" Emma gasped.

"In two more days, belles, this is Wednesday." Chloe smiled.

Jocelyn smiled with a nod. "The beau will select his belle. Then, you and he will stroll straight up to your private bedroom. There will be ten minutes between an arrival of a new beau and the departure of a lucky belle from the ballroom," giggling.

"Why?" Emma frowned.

Trinity grinned. "Well for one, we really don't want the guys talking to each other."

"Gawd. Guys gossip a lot worse than we do. They talk to each other all the time about sports and sex then trucks and sex and then girls and sex." Emma smiled.

Spring turned and nodded to her sister. "I don't want any beau..."

"...talking about me." Autumn turned and nodded back to her sister.

Jocelyn smiled with a nod. "Next, you and he fuck."

"You could say it with so much more flaring drama, Jocelyn." Emma giggled.

"How long does the fucking take? Is it one minute? Fifteen minutes? One hour?" Trinity giggled.

Chloe grinned with a nod. "I plan to explain that if Jocelyn ever finishes her long-winded belle lecture."

Jocelyn frowned, "Fine, bitch. The first beau will arrive at 6:30 in the evening, after suppertime. I picked that time period, since we all will be very nervous. I strongly suggest not eating anything two hours, before your fucking session, since you might vomit up and on your beau's chest or skull or dick."

"Ugh!" One of the belles frowned.

Another belle frowned. "O!"

"No." Another belle frowned.

Jocelyn nodded, "There will be no supper served to your beau while he visits you. However, your room will be stocked with lots of different snacks and beverages for the event, including a six-pack of cold beer inside the tiny refrigerator of your personal suite. I'm afraid there will no hard liquid, unless he or you supply it."

"If I'm going to do this, then I need alcohol. Where in the hell am I supposed to get a pint of whiskey at 6:30 in the evening, girlfriend?" Bethel frowned.

"Your prob, girl best!" Jocelyn giggled.

Trinity giggled, "Call daddy, Bethel."

"Fuck off, Trinity." Bethel growled.

Jocelyn smiled with a nod. "I have laid out our plan. It is this Friday night at 6:30 pm. No supper. Your turn, Chloe!"

Chloe stood upright of top of the homemade bed, "Strip off your robe. Let me see your nude body."

"No," Mary Margaret sat down on top of the baby blue bed linens and shook her curls, closing the eyelashes with a worried brow.

"Yeehaw!" Bethel stood upright and ripped off the robe with a smile and a cheer.

"Chloe is a lesbo." Trinity turned and winked at Emma.

"Why?" Emma sat on top of the bed linens like Mary Margaret with a confused brow.

Spring stood upright on top of the bed linens and ripped off the bath robe with a smile, turning to see her twin sister. "We..."

"...will," Autumn had stood upright and ripped off the bathrobe with a smile at the same time with her sister.

"You need to get used to exposing your naked body around other people. We don't have any guys for our little experiment, so your sister belles will do just fine." Chloe slowly un-wrapped the pink tinted silk robe, dropping it down on top of the bed linens with a smile. She exposed a naked boyish small frame of five feet and two inches in height with tone of rosy-beige tinted skin, weighing about 109 pounds of slenderness. She possesses a black pixie on a round face with a pair of mint green eyeballs. She reached down and cupped a pair of small rosy-beige breasts with all fingers, slowly massaging the pink nips with two index fingers while stimulating her vagina with a giggle and a grin. The other belles gasped at Chloe. Chloe turned with a smile to see Jocelyn. "Take it all off, doll." Jocelyn stood upright with a smile and ripped off the robe in silence, exposing a naked body.

Emma giggled. "There should be music for Jocelyn's provocative sexy body performance."

Chloe watched Jocelyn with a smile "Good idea, Emma! That reminds me if you're interested in playing music during your fuck fest..."

"That's not a nice name, Chloe," Peyton stood upright and slowly took off the robe with a sour frown.

Chloe turned and watched Zoey while caressing the breasts. "If you want music during your fuck fest, gimme your musical discs or a listing of your favored music, then I will get the audio staff to record you a bunch of tunes personally for you and your love mate."

"Chloe is a big bad bitch-whore." Trinity giggled.

Chloe turned and pointed to Jocelyn with a smile, "Very nice, Jocelyn! You got a great bod, girl best. Gimme some stats of your fine body?"

"Her pubic hair is red like the hair cut on top of her skull." Emma stared with a puzzled brow at Jocelyn.

Chloe reached down and touched the vagina pubic hair and then the skull hair with a stern face, "Yes, dumbass Emma! The hair down there is the same color as the hair on your head, sweet-tart," she giggled with the other belles.

"I am six feet and two inches. I weigh 145 pounds. I possess a bra size of 36 double D's," Jocelyn wiggled the breasts with a pair of manicured baby blue finger nails and wiggled the hips, shifting an exposed vagina of red pubic curly hair for all to see. The belles giggled.

"Chloe is a lesbian." Trinity giggled.

Chloe nodded with a smile. "Jocelyn told that we will charge two hundred dollars for a belle. She is worth at least three hundred dollars. Jocelyn is tall with a pair of nice long legs, two big bold breasts, a small waist, and a fine nice ass on pretty pink skin tone, without any flaws. She is the model body for the beau with a model's mental mind frame."

"I got a model body, too," Emma reached down with a smile and touched the naked breasts with both hands.

"Hush it, Emma." Bethel stared at Jocelyn with a smile while playing with the breast tits. Jocelyn slowly twirled around the floor in a circle like a graceful dancer. Bethel smiled. "Her ass is too small. Now, my ass is just pretty nice."

"We shall see, Bethel." Chloe stared with a smile at Jocelyn. Jocelyn stopped and stood in place, tossing both arms in a model pose with a grin. Chloe clapped with a smile. "Remember? The charge is three hundred dollars for Jocelyn. Emma, stand up! You model next for the belles, babe," she leaned over with a smile and a whisper into the cheekbone of Jocelyn. "This is how we make up the difference in the missing dollars. Some belles will be worth two hundred dollars. Others will be more," she moved ahead and away from Jocelyn with a smile. Jocelyn sat back down on top of the make-shift bed with a smile in full nakedness. Chloe stopped and stood in front of Emma with a smile. "Emma possesses a head of curly golden honey hair down to her waist. Off with the robe, Emma." Emma turned to face the row of belles and ripped off the robe, exposing a body of honey tinted skin. "She is two hundred dollars," Chloe shouted with a smile. Jocelyn wrote down the belle fuck price inside a small notepad.

Emma gasped with a hock and reached down, caressing her breasts with a smile. "I have a model's body, too. My breasts are a bra size of 34 C's. I weigh 120 pounds at five feet and five inches," she stomped a foot as both breasts jiggled side to side.

Chloe winked with a smile to Emma. "You're nice looking but no tall sexy Jocelyn. Do you tan, girl?"

"I turn more a honey color on my skin." Emma looked down with a smile at the honey-colored stomach and then a pair of pale white breasts.

"Get yourself an even tan! Go and lay by the swimming pool, this heated sunny afternoon, and paint some color on your pale breasts and your white ass," Chloe giggled with the other belles.

"Just spray your body with a bottle of some pretend sun-tan lotion," Peyton smiled with a nod.

"Naw," Chloe shook her curls with a sour frown to each face. "That stuff stinks to high heavens to a guy's nostrils. Lookie! We only get one shot at getting this right on Friday night within three days from now. If a beau selects you, then you are his for the next nine other Friday evenings."

Spring frowned at Chloe. "Are we not going exchange beaus...?"

"...like a set of Christmas presents?" Autumn frowned at Chloe.

Chloe turned and giggled at the two unique girls, shaking her curls with fun amusement. "No..."

Trinity frowned. "Wonder if, I don't like my beau that selected me?"

"Then, it's tough shit, Trinity. This is a business transaction, not a garden tea party, belles." Chloe nodded. "And you need to keep your perfume scent pretty smelling, not suffocating the poor bastard. Don't wear a lot of face foundation or eye shadow makeup either, maybe a pink pinch of blush for two cheekbones and use a pretty shade of lip gloss, not a thick oily lipstick."

"Why not, lipstick?" Emma frowned.

"I'll explain that later, Emma." Chloe moved ahead and stopped, standing in front of Trinity with a giggle and a grin. "Stand, girlfriend! Show me your breasts, Trinity."

Trinity towered with a smile over petite Chloe, ripping off the robe, exposing a tone of coco tinted skin with a head of light brown curls and a pair of aqua colored eyeballs. "I am five feet and nine inches. I weigh 135 pounds, mostly in my big bad 36 D's cups," she massaged the breasts with a giggle. "I got a pair of short legs but a long waistline for a pair of warm beau's paws," giggling.

"Woof, woof!" Bethel laughed with the other belles.

"Wow! A goddess is born." Chloe smiled with a nod. "Trinity is three hundred dollars, too."

"I should be three hundred dollars, too, Chloe," Emma whined with a sour pout.

Bethel sat down on top of the bed lines and shook her curls. "Naw, Emma! You're pretty. But Trinity is a gorgeous Amazon princess, girl best."

"Bethel is a lesbo," Emma stuck a pink tongue at Bethel.

Bethel growled. "Lucky for Emma, I'm dedicated to our lost cause. Or I'll come over there and beat your face black and red with blood and bruises, using my fighting fists," she tossed both fists into the air with a sneer.

Jocelyn turned and nodded to Bethel and finally to see Emma. "Thanks for your devotion, Bethel. Sit down and shut the fuck up, Emma. You've been assessed at two hundred dollars. So remember? You need to do your two hundred lap dance majorette performance with your 34C cup breasts for the money, honey with your honey bear beau." Emma sat down in full nakedness with a deep sigh on top of the bed linens. Trinity sat back down on a naked ass and crossed both legs on top of the homemade bed, giggling at prissy Emma.

Chloe advanced ahead and stopped in front of the naked twins with a smile, "Spring and Autumn, they are the twins here at Antebellum House."

Spring smiled to Chloe, "Me..."

"....and me..." Autumn smiled to Chloe. They stood and hugged each other, possessing a million-dollar smile of perfect white teeth, swishing a head of waist-ling platinum angel blonde colored hair side to side, jiggling a set of medium breasts on a naturally painted on a suntanned body frame.

Chloe smiled with a nod. "Do you, twins always do activities together?"

Spring giggled with a grin, "Yes..."

"...and always," Autumn giggled with a grin to Chloe.

Chloe smiled. "How tall are ya'll?"

"Five feet..." smiled Spring.

"...eight inches..." smiled Autumn.

Chloe giggled, "Bra size?"

"Thirty-four..." smiled Spring.

"...B cups..." smiled Autumn.

Chloe giggled with a nod. "I'm assuming that sister Spring is birthed first, since she always starts the talking conversation."

"Me, first," Spring bounced up and down with a giggle and with Autumn.

"...me, second," Autumn bounced with a giggle and with her sister Spring.

Chloe giggled with a nod. "Excellent! Belles Spring and Autumn will be our special selection for one lucky beau."

"One beau? But there're two belles." Emma turned and frowned at the naked twins. "You'll be tossing away two hundred precious dollars, Chloe, sweet-tart."

"Our twins Spring and Autumn will go for five hundred dollars, our pair of cuteness." Chloe nodded. The twins hugged each other's nakedness with both arms bouncing and giggling together.

"Awesome idea, Chloe!" Jocelyn looked down with a smile and wrote down the fuck price next to the names.

Emma whined with a sour pout, "You are going to ask for five hundred dollars for both of them."

"I agree with you, Chloe. The twin set will be an attractive display for one lucky beau, guaranteeing a repeat visit of nine more times." Bethel nodded with a smile.

Trinity smiled. "The twins are nicely made. But I'd suggest that they suntan in the nude along with pale ass Emma this sunny afternoon and the other heated afternoons, before Friday evening. The suntan will eliminate the tiny pale tan lines for a whole body coloration of beauty nudeness."

Spring moved ahead and tugged on the arm of Autumn with a grin, heading towards the archway.

Chloe reached out and grabbed the twin Spring by the arm. Spring stopped and looked with a confused brow at Chloe. Chloe shook her curls with a smile. "Not right now, sweetie! We have homework to do after we finish assessing the prices for the rest of the belles. Have a seat, girls."

"O," smiled Spring.

"...kay," smiled Autumn. They back stepped and sat back down on top of shared bed linens side by side with a set of giggles and smiles.

Chloe moved ahead and shook her curls with a smile, stopping and stood in front of Tyleigh. Tyleigh stood upright from the bed linens and un-wrapping her robe, exposing a queen-sized pair of breasts and a set of matching butt checks of mahogany black.

Jocelyn looked up with a gasp and a smile at Tyleigh. "Lordy girl, you are blessed by heaven."

Chloe smiled with a nod. "Black is beautiful. You are gorgeous, honey."

Tyleigh wiggled the pair of breasts and an ass side to side to an invisible song inside her head, "Thank you."

Bethel stood upright from the bed linens and ripped off the bathrobe too, revealing a second queen-sized body of goddessness with a smile. "Big is beautiful."

Chloe smiled at each teen girl, "You can make a patched potato sack like good, girl best."

"Thanks," Bethel bounced side to side her nakedness with a smile.

"Chloe is a lesbian," Trinity giggled. Chloe reached out and touched the nipple on Tyleigh's breast with a smile.

"Chloe's going to touch her breast," Emma giggled.

Chloe massaged Tyleigh's nipple with a smile. Tyleigh smiled with a giggle. Chloe smiled. "I was bi-sexual last year. Now, I am boy-sexual this year. My parents dumped me down into an all girls' school for my high school days with roaming and raging teen she-hormones. I fucked a lot of vaginas. I didn't fuck my first dick until this summer. Man, let me tell you! Penises are nice and full and round..."

"Finish this, Chloe. I'm cold," Bethel reached down and rubbed a pair of cold breasts.

Chloe smiled with a nod and continued to rub the nipple of Tyleigh, "Fine! What are your measurements, Tyleigh?"

"50.38.49. Bra size is a 40 DDD for delightful," Tyleigh smiled with a giggle as Chloe continued to rub Tyleigh's breast.

Bethel outlined her body with both palms with a smile. "I'm bigger, baby doll. 53. 37. 50. Bra size is 42 DDD for delicious."

"Both Tyleigh and Bethel sells for one thousand bucks, a piece, Jocelyn." Chloe winked at Tyleigh, not removing a hand from the soft nipple with a giggle.

"One thousand dollars, is that American or Spanish?" Emma giggled.

"Shut the fuck up, Emma." Chloe sneered.

"Hurry this up, Chloe! Before, the service staff members arrive and readies the lunch meal. We don't want to be looking like this. Someone might get suspicious of our unsupervised behavior." Jocelyn looked down with a worried brow and wrote down the fuck prices of each belle inside the paper notebook.

Chloe lifted up the fingers from the soft nipple of Tyleigh and advanced ahead, stopping and stood in front of a new of girls with a smile. "Peyton, Zoey, Naomi, and Mary Margaret, get up and flip your robes off. Let finish this part of the exhibition. Since, we got a little more homework to do, before we break and eat lunch." Each girl stood upright from the bed linens and ripped off the bathrobe with a giggle and a grin at each other nakedness. Mary Margaret ignored the command and rested across the bed covers with a set of closed eyelashes and a worried brow in silence. Chloe studied each girl without touching the body with a smile. "Each belle possesses an average height of about five feet and six inches on a semi-pale tinted body with an average bra size B cup. They are two hundred each, Jocelyn. Sit back down! Now, everyone, tear off the brown paper on top of the magazine," she back stepped and spun around, wiggling a naked ass back to her homemade bed, sitting down on top of the bed linens. She reached down and ripped off the brown paper. She had purchased the whore equipment for herself before leaving home.

Now, she was sharing her treasures with the other girls. Chloe looked down with a smile at the beefy male on a cover page. The male was naked with a big gleaming spray tan dick, matching a spray tan coffee brown male body and a pair of board shoulders.

"A girly magazine," one of the belles smiled at the cover page of her magazine.

"A real dick on a real male," another of the belle smirked at the cover page of her magazine.

"A real big and beautiful dick," a different belle grinned at the cover page of her magazine.

"Do all males look like this, Chloe?" Emma fingered the cover page photograph of her magazine.

"The ones paying for your virginity will." Jocelyn looked down with a giggle at the cover of her magazine.

Chloe licked an index finger pad with the tongue and held it into the air, looking with a smile at each face. "Belles, you're going to experience the optimal orgasm. You will be fucking you. You're going to masturbate with a right index finger. So, present to me your right index finger for visual inspection. Stick the finger into your mouth and lick it like a lollypop." She watched. Every girl examined the index finger and shoved it into the mouth, sucking on it for fun and giggles. Chloe nodded with a smile. "This is called foreplay. After you undress for your beau or he undresses you, stick your finger into your mouth, twisting it around and around. That'll turn him and you onto the first step of a fun night of long lasting sex." She watched. The finger of each girl entered then closed around the lips. Chloe smiled. "Halt! Keep your finger inside your closed lips. Stand tall and look at your next store belle's hairy colored-coded vagina for dumbass Emma..."

Emma removed the index finger and yelled at Chloe. "Shut the fuck up, Chloe!"

"Look at the belle's vagina. I bet you're feeling really frisky and sexy. Just wait! You see a bunch of curly pubic hair between the belle's legs like yours. Within that mess, there is hidden a vagina, that we're going to stalk and hunt like a tigress," she giggled. "So, let's go exploring. Place the towel underneath your ass. Lay back onto your back. Keep your finger inside your lips. Open your legs wide," Chloe placed the towel and leaned down, resting a back spine on top of the towel, "Pick up your girly magazine with the naked hunk, study his penis. Big. Round. Long. Close your eyes. Think of the beefy male. Drag your wet index finger from your mouth over your bottom lip and down to your chin and then gently touch your throat skin, going down between your breasts. Think of the beefy male touching you, tickling your belly button, touching your abdomen. Drag your index finger down attacking your pubic hair and then curl and twist it around your five fingers."

"Ah," one of the belles shouted while on a back spine with a finger inside her vagina.

"O," one of the belles screamed while on a back spine with a finger inside her vagina.

"Aw," another belle yelled while on a back spine with a finger inside her vagina.

Chloe played with her pubic hair with the fingers and a smile. "The proper name for the outer genitals of a girl is called vulva. But we call it a vagina for short, since your beau will call it the same name. And let's not confuse the beefy hunk, before we get fucked," she exhaled with a sigh of pleasure during the foreplay.

Emma rested on a back spine with a finger inside her vagina with a laugh. "She didn't riddle the joke, ya'll."

Bethel rested on a back spine with a finger inside her vagina with a laugh. "Go and fuck yourself, Emma," giggling.

Chloe continued to rest over a back spine with a finger inside her vagina with a smile. "Feel the pad of fatty tissue with your index finger that wiggles up and down, side to side. The fatty tissue covers a bone which is below the abdomen, but above the lips of the vagina. Use your index finger and massage it very, very slowly!"

"Ah," one of the belles shouted while a back spine with a finger inside her vagina.

"O," another belle screamed while on a back spine with a finger inside her vagina.

"Aw," a different belle yelled while on a back spine with a finger inside her vagina.

Chloe touched the public hairs with her fingers. "This is sexually sensitive to your touch like a finger or a set of lips. Have your beau gently massage this bone and fatty tissue first to stimulate feelings, as well as, the wet juices inside your vagina. Do you feel it?"

"Ah," one of the belles shouted while on a back spine with a finger inside her vagina.

"O," another belle screamed while on a back spine with a finger inside her vagina.

"Aw," a different belle yelled while on a back spine with a finger inside her vagina.

Chloe continued to rest over a back spine with a finger inside her vagina and a grin. "Move your index finger at the beginning top of the lips of your vagina but don't enter. The lips are not covered in hair. Feel the soft pads of more fatty tissue, move your finger gently outlining the lips, so you can visual inside your mind what your beau will be doing. Believe me! The creation gets ya hot and heated. Feel it?"

"Soft," one of the belles smiled and rested on a back spine with a finger inside her vagina.

"Stem-like," another belle smiled and rested on a back spine with a finger inside her vagina.

"A flower," a different belle smiled and rested on a back spine with a finger inside her vagina.

Chloe continued to rest over a back spine with a finger inside her vagina and a giggle. "Close enough! It is referred as your flower, so we will call it that also. The flower varies in size, length, and color, depending on your biological makeup. It can be long and thick or tiny and short and may look pink for red heads, black for brunette, or brown for blondes..."

"Does your beau ask?" Emma rested on a back spine and played with her vagina with a smile.

Chloe continued to rest over a back spine with a finger inside her vagina and a giggle. "He ain't going to be asking about any coloration on your body. The flower has mega amount of sensitive nerve endings which make for some great sexual pleasure. Move your finger down to your flower, gently rubbing it back and forth and then side to side. Make it feel, so good!"

"Ah," one of the belles shouted out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"O," another belle screamed out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"Aw," a different belle yelled out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

Chloe rested on a back spine, playing with her vagina with the finger with a smile. "Slide your finger down into your clitoris which we have named your vagina. Rotate your finger going around and around the bud-shaped part of your vagina. That's your penis, if your beau is really stupid," she giggled with the other belles.

Emma smiled, "Do I tell him that?"

Bethel giggled, "Dumb-belle."

Chloe giggled. "Yes, Emma! I double dog dare you to tell him that."

"You're a mean cunt, Chloe." Emma frowned.

Chloe smiled. "Your clitoris is packed with lots of tiny nerve endings which become engorged with flowing warm blood during your sexual arousal."

"Ah," one of the belles shouted out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"O," another belle screamed out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"Aw," a different belle yelled out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

Chloe smiled. "Your pubic hair sweats and produces oil from the surrounding glands. Don't sweat it! Well, do sweat it! This is the sweet smell of sex, belles," she felt a puddle of moist sweat on the fingers and smelled the odor of raw sex within the nostrils, pushing two fingers deeper into her vagina.

"Ah," one of the belles shouted out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"O," another belle screamed out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"Aw," a different belle yelled out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

Chloe smiled. "Your beau will lick the oil, sweat, and sweet juices of your lubrication off the vagina lips with his sweet breath, making you jump into light speed sexual arousal." She thrusts two fingers in and out of her sweaty vagina, creating excitement and more water.

"Ah," one of the belles shouted out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"O," another belle screamed out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"Aw," a different belle yelled out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"Come and lick me, now, Chloe!" Emma giggled while resting on a back spine, playing with herself.

"Shut the fuck up, Emma." Jocelyn sneered while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

Chloe smiled. "Move your index finger between the curves inside the inner lips. These are thin stretches of tissue that expands and contracts, protecting your vagina. Your lips are either tiny or large, protruding outward for a beau's incoming penis."

"I'm a virgin," Emma rested on a back spine with a giggle while playing with her vagina.

Chloe smiled. "I mean to explain, sweet-tart, that the length of the vagina lips is either naturally short or long, depending on your biological makeup, Emma. But, after your first fuck, the lips will change size to accommodate his great big dick size. The inner lips are the flower part of your body, which are highly reactive a tender touch of his single finger pad, then eventually his massive dick. Or the flower is highly sensitive to his lips, his fingers, and then his dick. There are over 15,000 nerve endings here. Touch it!"

"A tingling," one of the belles smiled while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"A tickling," another belle grinned while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"A fucking," a different belle giggled resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

Chloe smiled. "Rub it! This is a prime spot for sexual sensation. Finger fuck your vagina. Feel the pleasure! Now, you're getting hot stroking it back and forth inside your vagina. Lift your hips slightly from the bed linen. Continue to thrust in and out! Now, you are getting hotter."

"Ah," one of the belles shouted out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"O," another belle screamed out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"Aw," a different belle yelled out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

Chloe closed the eyelashes and shifted the two fingers deeply down into her vagina with a smile. "The best way to understand your body is to fuck yourself. The vagina canal is three inches long, so stuff can fit in there, cozy-like. Keep moving your finger down while locating the more spongy tissue inside your vagina, which is extremely sexually sensitive. Thrust your finger up and down, either slow or fast for more pleasurable stimulation. I like slo mo."

"Ah," one of the belles shouted out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"O," another belle screamed out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"Aw," a different belle yelled out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

Chloe smiled. "You can't see your clitoris unless you're a lesbian and want to lick my vagina, Emma," she giggled with the other belles.

"Go to hell, bitch-whore!" She frowned while resting on a back spine and played with her vagina.

Chloe smiled. "Your clitoris is about three inches lengthways on average and lots of interior vertical space for an average two inched diameter dick to enter your vagina."

"Does it hurt, Chloe?" Jocelyn frowned while resting on a back spine and played with her vagina.

Chloe smiled. "Yes. That's why you're playing with your vagina to understand what hurts and what doesn't hurt. During sex, the vagina will expand. Feel it! You are getting wider and higher from your self-fuck. Thrust your finger in and out with a quicker pace and going deeper to experience more vagina expansion of both pain and pleasure."

"I grow hot," one of the belles shouted out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"I grow sideways," another belle screamed out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"I grow in a circle," a different belle yelled out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

Chloe smiled. "Keep thrusting your finger in and out, baby. You'll expand feeling, like a circle of pain."

"I feel pain," one of the belles shouted out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"I feel good," another belle screamed out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"I feel lusty," a different belle yelled out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

Chloe smiled. "That's you, wanting a fresh round pulsing dick inside to finish fucking ya very good!"

"Ah," one of the belles shouted out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"O," another belle screamed out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"Aw," a different belle yelled out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

Chloe giggled. "Now, your vagina is open and ready for his dick. For ya'll truly virgins..."

"Me, not bitch-whore Chloe!" Emma frowned while resting on a back spine and played with her vagina.

Jocelyn stops the fuck of her vagina and sat upright on an ass with a smile to see each girl. "Chloe means the hymen. You heard that term. The hymen was said in the old days before tampons, where you inserted into a vagina. When a young virgin married, her beau on their wedding night punched through her hymen, causing it to bleed on the bed sheet. Then, he would give the bed sheet to the virgin's daddy as the symbol of her virginity," giggling.

Chloe continued to fuck her vagina with a smile. "The beau's dick explodes the hymen, creating extreme pleasure and sexual excitement, maybe some blood. Do not freak out! Run your finger deeper into your vagina, receiving that lusty feel of flowing sexual excitement. Feel it!"

"Ah," one of the belles shouted out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"O," another belle screamed out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"Aw," a different belle yelled out loud while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

Chloe continued to play with her vagina with a smile. "During sex, the vagina lifts upwards and extends up into your body, creating a bowl-fitting shape, hugging the penis for his forward and backward horizontal thrusting. Inside the walls of the vagina, there are glands that secrete lubricating fluid. This is very important. The fluid keeps a vagina moist, during sex and also lengthens the vagina canal for his big dick. Sex should not harm your vagina never ever. If it does, your beau needs to do a finger-fuck on you, until you bleed out white discharge over his hand."

She continued to rest on top of her bed linens with a smile and removed the finger, staring at the wet digit with a confused brow, "Hey! I got white stuff on my fingers," Trinity frowned with disgust at the white stuff on her fingers, turning with a gasp to see twins. "Jeezus, the twins are finger fucking each other." Spring and Autumn rested next to each other with a set of bend kneecaps and crossed an arm over the stomach of the other sister, thrusting an index finger into the other sister's vagina with a set of giggles and smiles.

"I wanna see, too," Emma sat upright with a smile and turned with a giggle to see the twins.

The twins, Autumn and Spring continued to rest on top of the bed linens with a smile, thrusting an index finger into the other one's vagina with a set of giggles and smiles. Emma smiled, "Gawd! That action turns me on!"

Spring removed the finger from her sister's vagina and lifted it into a face, looking at the wet digit with a confused brow too. "I have..."

"...white stuff, too," Autumn did the same thing and stared at the wet digit with a giggle.

"What about the g-spot, Chloe?" Bethel continued to fuck two fingers into her vagina with a giggle and a grin.

Chloe rested on a back spine and finger fucked the vagina with a smile and a grunt of pleasure. "It is either a myth or truth, since all sex is extremely pleasurable. Use two fingers and then thrust deeper into your vagina, sliding both fingers into the wet vagina, opening and squeeze onto the soft tissues of your vaginal walls like you're holding your urine. When you have hit the g-spot, you will feel the sensation to pee, since the g-spot is located near the bladder," smiling.

"I feel folds of tissue," one of the belles smiled while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"I feel soft skin," another belle grinned while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"I feel skin around my fingers," a different belle smiled while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

Chloe continued to play with her vagina with a smile and a grunt. "During sex, the vagina walls will expand to let his penis inside and then the wall tissues will close around his big dick. Don't let your beau scratch, grind, bite, or squeeze you, until you are very well lubricated inside your vagina."

"I feel warm," one of the belles grinned while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"I feel something hot," another belle frowned while resting on a back spine, playing with her vagina.

"Stop!" Chloe removed the finger from the vagina and quickly sat upright on top of the homemade bed with a giggle and a smile to see each face. "Look down at the white towel underneath your ass."

She removed the finger from the vagina and sat upright, looking down at the towel space between the legs with a gasp. "O no! I see red spot of blood," Peyton frowned with worry.

She removed the finger from the vagina and sat upright, looking down at the towel space between the legs with a gasp. "I see my red spot of fresh blood, too," Naomi reached down and touched the bloody spot with the clean finger on the towel.

She removed the finger from the vagina and sat upright, looking down at the towel space between the legs with a gasp. "I see nothing on my towel." Emma reached down and gently brushed the fingers over the wet spot of vaginal fluids that spilled out from her pussy without a colored spot.

Bethel removed the finger from the vagina and sat upright, turning with a smile to see the nose profile of Emma. "Emma likes to play with herself doing private vaginal sex time on top of her soft bed covers inside her private bedroom, before she came to Antebellum House."

Emma turned and gasped at Bethel. "What?"

Chloe giggled with a grin at each face. "Your hymen has popped open and bleed on top of your bedcovers inside your bedroom before our female fuck fest today, Emma."

"Emma's the real whore." Trinity turned and winked with a giggle at Emma.

Chloe shook her curls with a smile to each face, "Naw. She ain't no whore. During the ancient times and modern days, the hymen can rupture from any type of athletic exercise or using a tampon or engaging in fucking oneself at night in your bed right before sleepy time, Emma," she chuckled with the other belles.

"Shut the fuck up, Chloe," Emma looked down with a sour frown at the wet towel without a bloody spot.

Chloe smiled to each face. "Your beau has been educated in the female anatomy, because they have been fucking whores, since kindergarten. If he gets nervous or fumbles too slowly, then guide his finger to the top of your flower to acquire that all important erotic stimulation immediately. And remember this very important female fact? Your ovaries have more than 400,000 eggs, since your birth. Inside your brown bag is a pink pill, so remember to eat the abortion pill the next morning, unless you want to leave Antebellum House and have a baby."

"No," one of the belles frowned.

"Nope," another belle gasped.

"Naw," a different belle shook her curls.

Emma giggled with a nod. "What about you really shove something else up your vagina for fun, Chloe? We all wanna see."

"Look inside your brown bag!" Chloe reached out and grabbed, lifting into the air, dumping the rest of the contents ou from the bag onto the top of her make-shift bed with a smile.

"Gawd," one of the belles giggled.

"A big penis," another belle smiled.

"A rubber ducky dick," a different belle grinned.

Chloe reached out and grabbed, lifting the object near a grin. "This is a duplicate in rubber of a healthy man penis. The real penis can expand during sex to about eight inches long and two inches in diameter."

"Mercy! That is going to hurt as it is really shoved up and into my vagina pussy hole." Trinity frowned at the rubber penis without touching it.

Bethel reached out and grabbed, rubbing the rubber penis with both hands with a giggle and a smile. "Merry! This is going to feel good as it is really shoved up and into my vagina pussy hole."

"This is not battery-operated." Emma reached out and grabbed, twirling the rubber dick near a frown.

Chloe giggled. "Right, Emma!" She turned and leaned over, whispering into the nose profile of Jocelyn. "Psss! Don't tell anyone, Jocelyn! But I think Emma is a real badass bitch-whore."

Emma snarled. "Fuck off, Chloe! I like to read books about sex, not do sex acts like the only real bitch-whore in the classroom."

Chloe laughed with a smile. "Since, I've been insulted correctly. Grease the tip of the rubber penis with the soft o-intment for easy peno-tration," she reached out and grabbed the tube, rubbing the toy rubber penis, coating it with smooth petroleum jelly. She planned to shove the pretend beau dick all the way up and into her vagina for a great masturbation sex act today. She looked up and observed each girl with a giggle of fun amusement. Each girl swirled a set of ointment-coated fingers around the toy rubber dick with a smile, except Mary Margaret. Mary Margaret rested on the side and faced the wall on top of the bedcover while not participating in the new whore game. Chloe turned and frowned in silence to Jocelyn. They both nodded with the same mental thought about the innocent and virgin Mary Margaret.

Chloe swung a face back to see each girl with a smile. "Your beau can perform foreplay with his penis too. Lay back down on a back spine like I need to tell you the next upcoming step. But I'm the instructor. You have done your foreplay performance with excellence. Make sure your beau duplicates that same vagina-show for protection and safety and pleasure. Place your index finger back down into your flower for a second time and make sure that you are still dripping with vaginal wetness. If you are not wet inside your pussy, then finger-fuck yourself for a second time for a few seconds," She watched each girl.

Each girl rested down on a back spine on top of their homemade bed with a pair of legs spread apart, reaching down and shoved an index finger back into the flower, wiggling the digit up and down for fun and pleasure with sounds of giggles and moans.

The soft fucking sounds made her tummy ache for a hard sex act of a hard penis and as Chloe smiled at each girl. "Place the rubber tip of the penis at the lip of your vagina and then slowly move the tip up and down over the skin tissue. Get familiar with the rouge texture while stimulating more vagina discharge and wetness over your pussy and the towel for the final penetration of the toy rubber penis. A real dick is soft but firm, not hard and stiff."

"Ah," one of the belles shouted out loud with pleasure while resting on a back spine, shoving the rubber penis into her vagina.

"O," another belle screamed out loud with pleasure while resting on a back spine, shoving the rubber penis into her vagina.

"Aw," a different belle yelled out loud with pleasure while resting on a back spine, shoving the rubber penis into her vagina.

Chloe continued to watch each girl. Each girl held the penis tip on top of the bone and then slowly shifted the rubber tip up and down with a set of moans of new pleasure. She leaned down and rested onto a back spine, spreading both legs wide, closing both eyelashes and reached down, centering the penis near her heated skin and firmly shoved the hard rubber tip into her vagina with a scream of pain and pleasure, "Ah!" She felt the roundness of the tip penetrated down into the tight hole. The vaginal walls immediately attacked the love object with glee and curved the soft tissue, forming a bowl-shaped around the rubber penis as all the vagina glands lubricated the rubber penis. Then, she pushed and shoves the penis deeper down into her vagina while moaning with delight in a scream, "Ah!" She forgot about her instructor role and removed the penis, creating an intense pleasure with a groan and a smile, "Ah!"

"Ah," one of the belles shouted out loud with pleasure while resting on a back spine, shoving the rubber penis into her vagina.

"O," another belle screamed out loud with pleasure while resting on a back spine, shoving the rubber penis into her vagina.

"Aw," a different belle yelled out loud with pleasure while resting on a back spine, shoving the rubber penis into her vagina.

Chloe continued to rest on a back spine and inserted the rubber penis into a vagina with a smile. "Gently shove the tip down into your vagina with a little force. You are a virgin except for Emma, who has never been touched by a wicked love object before."

"Fuck you, Chloe!" Emma continued to rest on a back spine and inserted the rubber penis into a vagina with a frown.

Chloe held the tip of the rubber penis at the lips of the vagina and slowly shoved it into the pussy hole while thinking about a real beau dick inside her wet and heated vagina. She felt dirty lust and joyous pleasure and then rammed the tip between the folds of soft skin while plummeting it deeply into a void of erotic happiness while hearing the soft sounds inside the quiet room.

"Ah," one of the belles shouted out loud with pleasure while resting on a back spine, shoving the rubber penis into her vagina.

"O," another belle screamed out loud with pleasure while resting on a back spine, shoving the rubber penis into her vagina.

"Aw," a different belle yelled out loud with pleasure while resting on a back spine, shoving the rubber penis into her vagina.

Chloe continued to rest on a back spine and thrust the rubber penis into her pussy hole with a smile. "Gently thrust the penis back and forth, without pulling the rubber tip out of your flower."

"Ah," one of the belles shouted out loud with pleasure while resting on a back spine, shoving the rubber penis into her vagina.

"O," another belle screamed out loud with pleasure while resting on a back spine, shoving the rubber penis into her vagina.

"Aw," a different belle yelled out loud with pleasure while resting on a back spine, shoving the rubber penis into her vagina.

Chloe smiled. "Jerk the penis out of your flower! And then ram the penis back inside very slowly, you will feel something awesome."

"Ah," one of the belles shouted out loud with pleasure while resting on a back spine, shoving the rubber penis into her vagina.

"O," another belle screamed out loud with pleasure while resting on a back spine, shoving the rubber penis into her vagina.

"Aw," a different belle yelled out loud with pleasure while resting on a back spine, shoving the rubber penis into her vagina.

Chloe smiled. "Shove your penis back and forth fast."

"Ah," one of the belles shouted out loud with pleasure while resting on a back spine, shoving the rubber penis into her vagina.

"O," another belle screamed out loud with pleasure while resting on a back spine, shoving the rubber penis into her vagina.

"Aw," a different belle yelled out loud with pleasure while resting on a back spine, shoving the rubber penis into her vagina.

"Shove your penis into your flower back and forth faster," Chloe thrust the penis in and out of her vagina with a set of deep pants of pleasure.

"Ah," one of the belles shouted out loud with pleasure while resting on a back spine, shoving the rubber penis into her vagina.

"O," another belle screamed out loud with pleasure while resting on a back spine, shoving the rubber penis into her vagina.

"Aw," a different belle yelled out loud with pleasure while resting on a back spine, shoving the rubber penis into her vagina.

Chloe smiled. "Belles, your dick fucking pleasure lesson is done. Sit upright on top of your bed!"

Trinity sat upright with a smiling face of sweat. "I feel happy."

Peyton sat upright with a smiling face of sweat, turning and winked at Tyleigh. "I feel dirty."

Tyleigh sat upright with a smiling face of sweat and turned with a smile to see Peyton. "I feel horny."

Chloe stood upright and swing around a naked body to face the wall and a white cooler that was hidden below the blue curtains of the center window. The white cooler contained a set of cooling treat for each girl. She squatted down over the floor and reached out, pulling the cooler from the wall and ripped off the plastic lid with a smile. "Every belle, come up here to the window and grab a frozen popsicle from me!" Each naked girl stood upright from the bed linens with a giggle and scooted towards the naked ass of Chloe with a grin, moving across the wood, racing towards the little cooler and stopped, forming a long line with a set of giggles and smiles. Chloe reached down into the cooler and drew out the first frozen popsicle in white paper, handing one to each naked girl with a giggle. "This is your popsicle. Don't eat it yet. Go back to your bed and sat down, waiting on my new set of fucking instructions."

Each naked girl turned away from the Chloe with the popsicle and swiftly moved back to the bed linens with a giggle and a grin, sitting back down on top of the soft fabric with a smile in silence.

Chloe finished handing out all the popsicles, except the last one which was meant for Mary Margaret, and slammed the plastic lid down shut with a smile. She stood upright from the cooler and spun around with the wrapped popsicle, moving ahead, sitting down on top of the pink tinted bed linens and ripped off the white paper, revealing a cherry colored popsicle with a smile to each girl. "This is your beau's penis. You are going to practice oral sex using your lips, your teeth, and your gums on the wet, sweaty, and sticky popsicle which is really like a wet, sweaty, and sticky real penis dick. Rip off the paper! Lay down on your back."

Each naked girl leaned down and rested on a back spine on top of the homemade bed, holding an upright popsicle in the air and away from a face and as, the colored water and sugar melted in the heated air on top of a raised hand and the floor.

Chloe smiled. "Don't worry about getting icky wet with the popsicle's juice. A beau's penis will get your face, more wet."

"Ugh," one of the belles shouted out loud with disgust while resting on a back spine, holding the melting popsicle.

"O," another belle screamed out loud with disgust while resting on a back spine, holding the melting popsicle.

"Aw," a different belle yelled out loud with disgust while resting on a back spine, holding the melting popsicle.

"No," another belle grunted out loud with disgust while resting on a back spine, holding the melting popsicle.

"Eww," a different belle hollered out loud with disgust while resting on a back spine, holding the melting popsicle.

Chloe smiled. "Sex is good and sweaty. If you're not sweaty, then it wasn't good enough. Open your mouth lips! Place the tip of the popsicle on the top of your tongue and between your lips and then close your mouth. During oral sex, you breathe through a pair of nose holes. Or you suffocate and die. Just kidding! Oral sex uses your mouth and your tongue, not your hands. I can't talk you through the verbal steps, since I'm going to suck my popsicle dick too. So, place the tip of the dick into your mouth and then suck it, lick it, or nibble it as it melts onto your tongue. Then, shove it over your tongue and down your throat as far as you like without vomiting, which is a normal gag reflex for practice."

"Ugh," one of the belles shouted out loud with disgust while resting on a back spine, holding the melting popsicle.

"No," another belle screamed out loud with disgust while resting on a back spine, holding the melting popsicle.

"Eww," a different belle yelled out loud with disgust while resting on a back spine, holding the melting popsicle.

"Fuck the popsicle at your own pace," Chloe giggled with a smile and watched each girl. Each girl placed the tip of a colored and favored pop-sicle into the mouth while resting on a back spine. She stood upright and sucked on the red colored cherry favored pop-sicle, holding the pink colored bathrobe, slipping it around a naked body and turned to frown at Jocelyn while pointing at the hidden body of Mary Margaret.

Jocelyn stood upright with a nod and slipped back on the red bathrobe, covering her nakedness.

They moved towards Mary Margaret. The baby blue bedspread covered the face and the body of Mary Margaret while trying not to see but hearing the nasty fucking session of the girls.

Chloe squatted down over the floor without pulling out the bedcover from the eyelashes of Mary Margaret and softly whispered down into a hidden eardrum, "Go back to your room, Mary Margaret!" Mary Margaret shifted inside the bed linens like a funny baby blue ghost while hiding a face.

Both Chloe and Jocelyn reached out and firmly grabbed a duck-patterned covered arm of Mary Margaret, helping the petite teen to stand upright from the ballroom floor, spinning around and walked Mary Margaret near the side wall of the closed windows, so she did not see the naked girls mouth-fucking a colored popsicle. They slowly moved ahead towards the closed door and stopped, standing in front of the closed door.

Chloe released the arm of Mary Margaret and reached down, opening the door.

Outside temperature

Dogtrot breezeway setting

Jocelyn shoved the blind and silly Mary Margaret from the ballroom and outside into the cool breezeway that came from the natural flowing air currents of a big hole in the building.

Chloe gently closed the door shut with a stern face without disturbing the other naked girl.

Mary Margaret quickly shuffled out the set of hot bed linens from a distorted face with a sneer and a pair of red tinted inflamed cheekbones and a pair of matching nostrils at both the teen girls.

Chloe leaned over with a sneer into the face Mary Margaret. "What's your fucking probe, sugar?"

Jocelyn snarled over the hair roots of Mary Margaret. "You are either part of the solution of our fuck fest or part of the problem of our fuck fest, honey."

Mary Margaret leaned over into the nose hole of Chloe, since they were about the same height, sneers. "I know what the word fuck means. I know what a vagina and a penis does during a fuck. Leave me alone! I'll do my part on Friday night." She back stepped on her pair of bed slippers and slipped between the girls, swiftly moving down the breezeway, around the outer corner of the front porch and disappeared out of sight. Chloe and Jocelyn watched the wiggling ass of Mary Margaret disappear out of sight.

Chloe exhaled with a puff of miffness at the front porch. "What do you think, Jocelyn?"

"I fuckingly don't know." Jocelyn crossed both arms with a deep sigh and stared at the front porch.

Chloe nodded with a stern face at the front porch. "Maybe, we should exclude Mary Margaret. Her heart isn't into it."

"She doesn't need her heart, only her vagina."

Chloe exhaled. "Maybe, we should reduce her price from two hundred dollars down to one hundred dollar or nothing at all."

"Look. I can't do that either. The beaus all know that there are twelve of us. If we adjust one belle fucking price, then we will have to renegotiate for each belle for a second time. That's the point of selling our virginity to the highest bidder, which is a rich beau. And her dad like my dad is not removing Mary Margaret from Antebellum House, since this is the only leverage of keeping the real estate property while running a school full of virgin daughters."

Chloe turned and stared at the beaten and broken side walls of the breezeway with a sour frown. "Well, this is some school. There are only twelve of us, students here. Why's that, Jocelyn? Where are the rest of the southern belles at Antebellum House?" She turned and frowned at Jocelyn.

"The school has been undergoing some restructuring. That's how my dad explained it to my mom while I stood inside the hallway and ease dropped during the kitchen table conversation. Since, I'm trying to graduate from Antebellum House. The program here is called an independent study which means that you are independent from the other teens and don't really take any type of in-house academic classes. And he and the other fathers don't want the building to be torn down, so they have decided that we stay until the university agrees to the landowner's terms."

She frowned. "Which is when?"

"I was told that it would happen at the end of December," Jocelyn nodded with a stern face to Chloe.

"So why are the rest of the virgins becoming a whore?" She frowned.

Jocelyn sneered. "Speak for yourself, Chloe! You have had some fun before coming here to Antebellum House. I have had zero fun within my entire life, since birth. This Friday night is going to be really fun for me for the first time in my twenty-one years."

"So, back to my first argument! This is not fun for little virgin Mary Margaret. We shouldn't make her participation, if she doesn't want to interact with a beau."

Jocelyn reached over and slapped the collar bone of Chloe with a smile and a nod. "We are twelve. We are a sisterhood. Mary Margaret needs to learn that now, not later. Let's get back inside the ballroom, before the other girls get suspicious," she lifted a hand into the air with a nod and spun around to face the closed door, reaching out and opened the door with a smile, moving inside the room, hearing the moans of the other girls.

"Fine," Chloe exhaled with a puff of frustration and followed behind the ass of Jocelyn into the ballroom, gently closing the door with a puzzled brow.

Bedroom chamber setting

Student Mary Margaret

11:08 a.m.

Hot temperatures with parted cloud of light rain

She dashed ahead over the front porch with a stern face and turned the building corner, running down the rest of the side porch and turned again, entering through the set of double archways that lead into the belle wing. She climbed up the first step and turned, stopping with a set of pants, standing in front of the closed door and exhaled with set of deep breathes of fear and worry. She reached out and grabbed the door handle, twisting the knob. The door opened.

She entered through the archway and spun around, gently closing the door without the loud noise, dropping down the bundle of dirty bedcovers and linen sheets onto the floor from the cradled arms, slowly back stepping from the closed door with a sad face. She sobbed with tears of fear and worry, slapping the legs into the short settee inside the wall corner.

She sat down on top of the green colored leather settee which stood between the open set of viewing windows inside the cool shadow of her bright sunny private bedroom. She reached out and grabbed, lifting the old-fashioned pink tinted landline princess telephone from the bedroom nightstand, preferring to talk on the cute phone rather than the smaller mobile telephone that can show a red colored swollen face.

She lifted the receiver into the air and pressed down each square key one at a time with a lime green colored manicured index finger for a familiar telephone number, waiting on the connection. She heard the familiar rumble of a male voice and softly said, "Hi, Daddy."

She paused and listened on the landline telephone to her father on the other end of the connection.

She wiped off the tears with the other hand and said with a soft timber into the landline telephone receiver. "I miss you, a lot, too. So, can you and Mama come and pick me up on Friday after my school sessions?"

Pause.

She wiped off the snot that ran down from two nose holes with a left hand, saying with a sad face. "O. You and Mama are flying into the beach town of Mobile for a charity dinner banquet to banquet homeless children and their adults. That's so very nice, Daddy. I can tag along for the wonderful event, too. Then, you and Mama can bring me back to Antebellum House on Sunday afternoon right after church..."

Pause.

She exhaled with a worried brow. "Yes sir! There is going to be a charity ball on Friday night here at Antebellum House, too."

Pause.

"Yes sir! I have lots of pretty dresses for the social event that Mama had selected for me. I guess that I will wear a bright red one."

Pause.

"Thanks, Daddy. I always try to look pretty for you and Mama as a proper southern belle." She exhaled. "Well, I find college hard, harder than I thought, Daddy."

Pause.

"My classes are different from my old high school, Daddy."

Pause.

"I like my needlepoint class the best, sir. I'm very good at cross-stitch needlepoint. Grandmother Cantwell taught me as a child to be a stitcher."

Pause.

"I'm making some new friends, Daddy. We are all southern belles, here. We are all like sisters."

Pause.

"Hi, Mama!"

Pause.

"Yes ma'am. You had told me that too. And they have told me that we're a sisterhood doing everything together."

Pause.

"O. I sound tired. Well, I'm very busy, maybe a little stressed along with being a little tired. I'm having trouble sleeping in a new bed, not quite dreaming of unicorns and tiaras, Daddy."

Pause.

"What do I think? You're so sweet, Daddy. I think that I need a tiny bit of medication for a better sleep to do well in my new classes, especially in my new needlepoint class. I shore don't want to slip up with that sharp needle, puncturing my finger into pretty red blood proteins either."

Pause.

"What would I prescribe? Yes, sir! I'm going to be a good physician like both you and Mama one day, too. Well, I would pick for me the drug called methanqualone."

Pause.

"Why methanqualone, Daddy? Well, I remember studying when I took that electronic test to become a pharmacy technician like you and Mama wanted me to do. I proved how smart I was in the chemistry sciences, passing it with ninety-seven points out of one hundred."

Pause.

"Methanqualone is prescribed to reduce anxiety during the day and a sleeping aid at night for a good rest."

Pause.

"Yes sir! I know that. Methanqualone is a commonly abused drug with both a physical and a psychological dependence on the user. It can cause danger of instant death from a car accident which could be caused by a set of faulty judgments and a bout of drowsiness. Plus, the user appears like she is sleepy from exhaustion but really is in a coma from an overdose of the drug, which can lead to...death."

Pause.

"I remember all that, Daddy."

Pause.

"But Daddy, I don't have my personal car here, since I'm not allowed to drive away from Antebellum House for any reason."

Pause.

"You're funny, Daddy. I would make a good lawyer, if I wasn't going to be a good physician like you and Mama. Yes, sir! Thank you, sir! I will be on the lookout for an express package from you on tomorrow afternoon that will contain the sleep medication. I love you, Daddy."

Pause.

"Goodbye, Daddy! Goodbye, Mama! I love you, too, Mama," she wiped off the tears and reached down, hanging up the pink colored princess telephone onto the hook, sobbing with tears and fears of her short eighteen years old life.
Two days later

Friday August 8th

05:58 p.m.

Ballroom location

Interior setting

Hot temperatures and moonlight with bright stars

Fairy tale of Trinity and her beau

Trinity sat inside the ancient long sofa of silver slick leather that was painted in golden hues on top of four wooden thick straight legs with a series of tiny gold rosettes that flowed around the outline wood of the cushion. The chair had been made during the Neoclassical period in the foreign country of French. The silver cushion leather seriously clashed with her periwinkle blue tinted silk antebellum dress that covered the three itchy white stiff crinolines that tickled her naked legs.

She nervously fluffed all the fingers at the edge of her kneecaps as the skirt dress spread the fabric into four feet of blue across the silver leather. She shook her light brown colored curls that cascaded down into a set of four big cylinder rolls over the left side of a naked collar bone. She appeared liked a true southern belle from the days of yesteryears.

She had practice the sweet smile, pouting the lips like a fish and then expanded them to fit the proper width while showing off a set of nice white teeth. She bounced up and down excitedly on a pair of matching colored-coordinated periwinkle blue summer sandals underneath the dress, tapping a silent beat onto the wooden flooring. She stopped the finger fucking the dress and placed a pair of cupped hand down into a lap like Mary Margaret did, staring across the room at the black colored hair roots of the teen.

She slumped down over a petite body, displaying the parted black colored hair with a middle line white scalp like Mary Margaret was going to hurl green tinted vomit down into the lap of the dress. She continued to sit inside the middle of three individual pieces of long sofas on the side wall behind the row of weirdly decorated closed window panes that faced the opposite row of sofas.

Within the opposite row, the first sofa held a pretty head honey blonde colored Emma. The second sofa was the cute twins of Spring and Autumn.

The third sofa held Trinity, who was farthest from the open archway. She fumed with angry at Jocelyn, who had purposefully selected this awful position while presenting the eternal beauty of Trinity. Each beau would select his belle based on her appearance as Jocelyn knew all too well. Trinity bet that Jocelyn would present all the handsome beaus first, before the dogs started showing up inside the ballroom. Since, Jocelyn told Trinity in secret that she had to personally entertain the last beau for some dumb ass reason, making Jocelyn envy and jealous of her friend Trinity.

Trinity wanted a nice beau to drool over her smile, since this will be the first time that she would get to kiss a boy, without her parents around to spy on her ponytail.

Since, that boy of twelve years old had tried to kiss her right cheekbone during the church picnic lunch with a mouth spit of food, making the only single yesteryear past romantic encounter for Trinity.

She heard a pair of cowboy boots that sounded in heavy steps coming down the Dogtrot Hall and then grinned with a goofy smile of happiness, giggling inside a tight throat of giddiness, studiously watching the open archway inside the ballroom.

She tilted a skull slightly to the right with curiosity, not with whore ambition, bouncing up and down the pair of sandals with extreme excitement, hearing a set of faint voices that conversed along the wall.

Then Jocelyn appeared and stood inside the open archway with a beau who was cuffed to her left arm. She flirted with a giggle like a real whore with a cute guy, who stood tall at six feet and four inches, since Jocelyn was six feet and one inch with a pair of three inched summer sandals, making them the same height.

He wore a pair of orange colored ostrich leather cowboy boots which was the softest animal leather to break over a set of tender ten naked toe bones that displayed a distinctive pattern of bumps or quills in rich black hues. The orange quills encircled each boot foot. He wore a pair of slightly faded black jeans, a solid black colored short-sleeved shirt which outlined a set of nice deltoids, biceps, and triceps. A pair of olive tinted biceps matched a smiling face of olive too.

But, the most striking feature of this beau was a shaved shiny bald head of olive toned skin.

Trinity felt heated and lusty dirtiness within her teen hormones of pleasure with his particular beau.

Jocelyn continued to stand inside the archway, hugging his arm with a smile to see each girl. "Belles, please welcome our first beau. Beau, meet our lovely belles. Go and find your princess, sir!" The beau elegantly strolled ahead and tapped across the hard wood away from the archway, grinning with a goofy smile.

Trinity turned and quickly examined each belle potential, staring back at his smiling face. The beau turned and started the belle journey at the northern wall of girls. Her sandals nervously bounced up and down underneath the gown. Trinity wished that she could stand up and yell out for his undivided attention. She liked this beau and his physical features of cuteness, tallness, and hunky-ness as he continued to strut manly in a set of black colored clothing and scouted with a pair of two eyeballs and a smile at each sitting and demur southern lady.

He slowly moved ahead down the side wall row of three different long sofas, passing by gorgeous queen-sized Tyleigh, then frightened mousy Mary Margaret, then finally beautiful queen-sized Bethel. He turned to the side and moved ahead down the second row of belles on the forward wall with a smile to see petite Chloe, pretty Naomi, lovely Peyton, and cute Zoey, and then quickly rounded into the last row of belles, stopping dead in his boots right in front of Trinity.

Trinity grinned so wide that both of her cheekbones were going to split apart and bleed red blood over the antebellum dress. He extended an arm to her as a good southern gentleman. She swiftly stood upright from the sofa and reached out, roughly grabbing his bicep like her sofa was on fire. He cuddled Trinity into a hard chest for the fire rescue in silence. She giggled with a grin into his handsome face, "Hi! I'm Trinity."

He leaned down and whispered into her eardrum. "You're beauty, Trinity. I'm Stan, the man, by the way." He rubbed a soft shaven face and a bald skull into her cheekbone, chuckling with man-excitement.

"Thank you!" She whispered with a smile.

He back stepped with her from the sofa and slowly turned to face the open archway with Jocelyn, moving ahead and strolled by Jocelyn.

Jocelyn smiled at the nose profile of Trinity, "Nighty-nite Trinity."

Trinity ignored her friend Jocelyn and stared into the eyeballs of Stan. He stared into her eyeballs with a smile in silence.

They swiftly exited ahead through the open archway as one being.

Trinity smiled at Stan, "Good night Jocelyn."

He smiled at Trinity. "Later, Jocelyn," he turned with Trinity and moved down the Dogtrot Hall, scanning her dress and then her smile. "Your dress is pretty. I always enjoy complimenting the entire girl from her hair roots down to her toe nails. You are all baby blue."

"Thank you! I...I think your very handsome. I like your baldness," she nervously giggled with a smile.

"I feel like I'm going on a blind date, but not blind. I mean, I've never been on a completely blind date. Since, I had somewhere met the girl that I took on a planned date before at a party or at school. This is very different but very exciting and kinda sexy like you. You're very sexy, Trinity." She bowed down a chin into the naked neckline with a pair of pink tinted blushing cheekbones. He cuddled her closer.

They slowly moved down the Dogtrot breezeway towards the front portico.

"Thanks."

Stan almost kissed her cheekbone with his words and his actions. "I don't know nothing about you. I want to know a lot about you like your interests, your hobbies."

She stopped and stood in place, pointing into the belle parlor room with a smile. "We can climb up the staircase inside the belle parlor room and dash up towards the belle garconniere. It's a quicker path."

Stan shook a bald skull and turned to see the interior of the belle parlor room with a sneer. "The staircase is haunted," he swiftly moved ahead towards the front porch with a stern face.

She cuddled into his arm with a puzzled brow. "How do you know that?"

Stan swiftly exited from the Dogtrot Hall with her and turned to the side, moving down the porch windows in front of the belle parlor room, passing the line of rocking chair with a smile. "I attended here during my undergraduate days while working on my history degree, before I started Bam U law school. All the beaus came from here before...before we built the Rebel Den. Something's damn strange about that staircase. Over the years, brave or foolish beaus would challenge the she-demonettes. That's a female version of demon, since these she-ghosts are not nice dead southern belles." Trinity listened with a smile.

They turned the corner and slowly strolled down the other side of the porch, swinging around the building.

Stan laughed. "And each beau failed sometimes on their knees or their face depending on which she-ghost attacked a human body part. After eye witnessing the silly fools along with my only single challenge to a she-ghost, my selfie felt a chilled cold sensation blew across my cheekbone. It felt like five finger nails of a ghost. Man! I'm thoroughly convinced that something haunts that staircase. So, I learned to stay clear, since all the other belles did too along with all the antebellum school teachers. I mean this here building is really old during the eras, when folks get sick and died under their bedcovers and under mysterious circumstances," he turned to the side and moved through the set of open double doors that led up the grand wooden staircase.

Trinity stopped in place and stood in front of the closed door, pointing at the room on the first level which was across from the sleeping chamber of Mary Margaret with a smile, "Who are the she-ghosts?"

"One was murdered during the War of 1814. One died when she got drunk, best explanation, when she died accidentally falling off the watch tower. That's the fifth level on this building which has been locked, sealed, and bolted during my entire school days, when I lived here. The watch tower is for watching, not dancing. Because, there ain't no proper balcony railing for spying on a pretty belle or a protective overhang for bad weather for kissing on a pretty belle either. The third was a formal teacher, who passed away in her room here at the House."

"O. Those stories are all so sad," she shifted to the side and allowed him to grab the knob, opening the door like a southern gentleman. She entered through the archway with a nervous giggle like a southern belle.

Bedroom setting of Trinity and Stan

Her private bedroom held an ivory colored marble poster bed frame with a series of looping and draping thick and dull satin ivory fabric that puddled down over the wooden floor.

The bedroom door closed shut without any sound behind his ass. Since, the door spring was loaded with a set of good hinges that worked too perfectly, catching the heavy five feet wide wooden door.

He moved ahead and scanned the room with a smile. "Country music, I like."

She had dreamed of the opening show for my beau. She moved ahead and stopped, spinning around in a half-circle with a giggle to face him, flinging out one of the periwinkle blue sandals from the foot. The sandal soared through the air waves and landed near the near the wall of entrance doorway. She flicked the other sandal sideways towards the other side of the entranceway door. The sandal sailed through the air and landed, bouncing up and down near the bottom of the clothing armoire that held some of her personal clothing items.

He stood in place and away from each flying weapon, enjoying the show with a chuckle to her, "I like that too."

She reached down with a giggle and gently loosely the blue satin belt from the wrist, breathing freely while trying to look sexy in a 200-year-old fashion statement and tossed the cloth belt into the air. The belt soared into the air near the bed post and then dropped down, landing on top of the floor in silence pain. She wiggled both hips as the periwinkle blue dress exploded into a pretty potato sack that covered her body. The V-shaped collar of the plummeting off-the-shoulder necklace fit around the breast size, not the waist size without the use of zips, buttons, or hooks in the rear back of the elegant ball gown.

A real plantation dress had pulled together a set of cloth ribbons around the waist which was tied with a fabric belt that was made of satin, cotton, leather, or silk. Then the skirt would widen into three feet or more on top of the floor.

He reached down with a smile and jerked off the shirt, exposing an olive colored chest with set of muscles from deltoids to biceps to triceps to a set of eight-packed abs. She watched him undress with a lady growl. He dropped the shirt onto the floor.

She swayed side to side and pranced towards him with a smile and a giggle, stopping and stood in front of her new lover. His hands reached up and tenderly dropped the ruffled collar down from her naked neckline, exposing a pair of matching coco tinted breasts. She didn't wear a bra with the dress.

He smiled but did not physically touch her naked breasts, holding the dress fabric with both hands in the air, staring down at her naked breasts and then her face with a smile. "You're beauty, Trinity." She reached out and wiggled both hands in front of his naked chest with a giggle and a grin. He frowned. "Wait! We both finish undressing each other," Stan reached down and untied a set of three small and cute bows off the three crinolines. Her dress and the three crinolines dropped down with the help of Earth's gravity down over the hard wood flooring. She reached over and unlatched his belt as it dropped down on top of her dress and the three crinolines.

They stood upright and close enough to fire a chimney.

She reached down and unlatched the single button, unzipping his blue jeans. He reached up and picked out the individual hair pens that held up the curls of light brown hair on the side of her neck in place with a smile.

Her light brown hair fell down to the collar bone in thin, straight, and shiny waves from the overhead lights. He leaned over and placed all the gathered hair pins in one hand behind her back spine without tickling her nakedness. She watched him maneuver around her body with a smile She stood upright almost naked, except for the pair of pink lace panties, staring down at his white briefs.

They giggled with a smile at each other.

She reached out and touched the edge of his waistband on the briefs. He reached down and thumbed the edge of her panties with a smile.

Then, they both jerked down and lowered each other's underwear at the same time, bumping the forehead together.

"Ouch!" She stumbled backwards while standing inside the interior of the dress and the three crinolines, bumping against the front of the entertainment center that held the new plasma television. She looked up with a smile to see his smile.

They wiggled side to side with a giggle of the funny naked performance.

He reached out and gently grabbed, touching her right hand, lifting it up in the air as she balanced a naked body out from the clump of clothing around both ankles. She lifted a right foot and then a left foot, hopping on the right foot. He duplicated her native dance for fun.

They wiggled side to side with a giggle of the funny naked performance again.

He released her hand and squatted down on both kneecaps, gathering the pile of clothes, swiftly standing to scan the room to dump the lump of satin. He turned and stared at the closet then the bathroom door, then the floor, and then saw ugly green, red, and blue plaid settee, a medium-sized sofa without a pair of arm rests.

She followed his head nods with a giggle around the room and then frowned at the settee's color. The plaid green, red, and blue vividly clashed with the ivory linens on the bed and the brown wooden made armoire that held her clothes. The settee didn't match the purple metal student desk either that displayed a slender black laptop which could access the internet for all the on-line classes. Trinity pondered if her school needed more money funds to upgrade the academic facility.

He moved ahead with a smile and stopped at the wall, dumping down the lump of satin clothing in a semi-neat pile on top of the settee, spinning around with a chuckle towards her and as, his penis swayed in a different direction.

She dropped a chin down into the naked neckline, thanking the invisible beings that floated above her hair roots. It was not the year 1859, when a teen girl wore a pair of long legged pantaloons, a pair of silk stockings with a set of hot cow leather ankle boots that covered her naked legs. This modern day Antebellum House allowed a teen girl to wear a pair of summer sandals on the naked feet, exposing her newly neon nail-polished toenails for all eyeballs. She looked down to see the set of dull baby blue toe nails wondering that she should have re-painted them in a pretty girly pink with a giggle.

He turned to the side and moved ahead, stopping and stood in front of the entertainment center, reaching out and pulled open the first drawer that had been built into the furniture which held some of her personal clothing. He searched through the drawer with a smile. "The room is really cold temperatures, hovering at fifty-eight freaking degrees Fahrenheit with no obvious air condition thermostat to control the fridge air flow. You should wear a pajamas top until we get hot and heated," chuckling.

She moved ahead and stopped beside him, pulling out the second drawer, reaching inside and flung out her pair of pajamas in flannel candy pink with a set of cute little white poodle dogs all over the fabric. She lifted into the air and jerked the soft fabric over the naked collar bone but left the rest of her body exposed, wondering why he was taking so long to kiss, to touch and to attack her body with any degree of lust or passion. She turned and faced him with a smile in silence.

He turned to face her and reached down, gently grabbing her left naked wrist, where the long-sleeved pajamas top fell down from the collar bone. His eyeballs followed her skin tone, coming down from the wrist towards the elbow. She watched him with a stern face of intrigue. He stared down at her wrist bone with a smile. "I study veins."

She giggled with a grin and stared at his face. "You're a vampire."

He stared at her wrist, not her face, touching her skin with his fingers, "Naw. If the veins on your wrist have a purple tint, then you are allergy to silver and gold jewelry and should only wear a set of platinum bands. Dark skinned folks based on olive skin types possess greenish-tinted veins on a wrist which means that a person should wear a set of gold jewelry, not silver or platinum. A bluish tint goes very well with a piece of smooth silver jewelry on a particular pretty pale complexion that I happen to see right here," he looked up with smile to see her. Trinity smiled back.

He continued to caress her wrist bone with a smile and a nod. "The outer skin is a pigment color which is different from your red blood, where lots of pigment color makes up the black skin while a little amount of pigment creates the white skin tone. Below our outer skin epidermis, there is a series of white veins and capillaries which gives our white skin a pinkish tone. But, when the sunlight hits the red blood, it creates a lovely blue or green or purple line of beauty," Stan lifted up her wrist bone to a mouth and tenderly kissed the skin.

She smiled at the oval shape of his skull that displayed beautifully handsomeness. He displayed a set of wide cheekbones that a fashion model would envy. The wide of his jaw line and the forehead were equal in length, making his baldness well-balanced along with the feeling of sexy and attractive to her.

He gently touched both fingers around both her wrists, pulling her closer to a heated body, looking with a grin into her smile. "Our blood has a chemical in it which is called hemoglobin that is red. A spider's blood has a chemical in it which is called hemocyanim that turns greenish-blue color. So, when we blush our blood capillaries expand to give us a new color which is something brighten red or pretty pink that fan over the cheekbones that reflects throughout our skin. That is what is happening to you right now, Trinity. You're pale skin is a bright pink. I like," smiling.

He grinned. "Blood is really a dark crimson with a set of tiny specks of blue. When the air oxygen hits it, the blood turns into a brighter red. See? The tiny curvy line of white veins that come from your wrist going down to your elbow of your inner arm shines with a beautiful blue tint. That means I gotta a buy you a great big diamond ring with a silver wedding band." He winks at her, smiling.

She exhaled with a puff of humor. "Stan, you're too much," Trinity giggled and pondered his intriguing romantic statement.

"Not as much as you're going to love that diamond ring, I promise." He pulled her into a heated body. She felt his penis against her abdomen, since we were almost the same height.

They leaned over and passionately kissed.

He pulled back with a smile. "I should make the proper introductions as I was taught by my southern mama." He reached down and pointed his penis with a chuckle. "My little guy, meet Trinity. Trinity, meet my little guy."

"Well, I'll make my introductions know to both of you as well," she reached down and pointed at her vagina with a smile. "My flower, I want you to meet Stan. And my flower is very excited about meeting both Stan and his little guy," giggling.

He spun around and moved ahead, holding onto her wrist bone, leading towards the bed with a smile. "They still leave the bedcover neatly folded down from the three pillows." Even, his mom did not turn-down the set of bed linens for her son at home. "That's a nice touch. And there's a pink rose on top of the linen pillow." He stopped at the edge and stood beside the bed frame, reaching out and grabbing, jerking the pretty purple and red flower patterned bedcover down towards the end sitting bench but left the top bed sheet intact underneath the three pillows. He swung around with a smile and reached out, touching her nakedness with his little guy, placing the tip of soft rose petal to her nose with a grin. "This is for my girl. How are you feeling, darling?"

"I feel a little cold, but a lot of nerves."

He leaned down and kissed her lips, pulling back with a smile. "It'll take me some time to get you lusty hot. Climb up on top of the bed linens. Lay your head down on top of the pillow." He spun around and climbed on top of the bed mattress on both kneecaps, moving towards the three pillows, shuffling them around for her comfort and her pleasure and crawled to the side and patted the satin pillow with a nod.

She crawled up and over the soft bed mattress with a giggle, moving ahead on both palms and kneecaps with a smile, spinning around and rested on a head on top of the pillow like a nervous zombie. Her naked feet faced down towards the footboard with a set of nervous giggles.

He leaned over and straddled both bent legs, holding a folded naked body over her naked belly button with a grin of lust and playfully tapped the soft rosebud on her forehead with a chuckle, "Now, close your eyes and dream of me."

"Okay," she smiled and closed the eyelashes, feeling the softness of the rose tip on the crown of her forehead, breathing in shallow pants of nervousness and excitement. Her arms rested down at the sides and she wiggled both feet in anticipation of her first sex act with a male.

He slowly dragged the tip of the rose between her two eye sockets, down her nose tip, down her lips, and then stopped with a chuckle. He leaned down and kissed her parted lips very gently, pulling back with a deep sigh of pleasure, lifting upright a torso. He replaced the rose and touched her lips for a second time with a chuckle, dropping the tip of soft rose down the chin, then the chest, and between the two breasts. The soft petals tickled her with pleasure and amusement and as she shivered with lust. He shifted the tip of the rose between the ribs, down to the waistline and then tried to poke the soft petal down in her outie belly button with a chuckle. She giggled with a grin.

"Damn! It won't fit." He shifted the soft rose flower down to her flat stomach and stopped at the beginning of her blonde hair pubic hair with a smile. "O no! It is the end of the line, darling," he growled with a smile. "So, we start from the top, again. Don't open your eyes, precious!"

Trinity felt his body shift over her like a dark shadow and then the rose touched her forehead with his soft index finger pad. He shifted the finger between her eye brows, down her nose tip and down to her parted lips, leaning over and kissed her lips, pulling back with a grin.

She opened her eyelashes. He softly whispered with a smile into her face. "Now, think nasty dirty sex thoughts of me. Keep your eyes closed. This little thing is called foreplay. It is a very important play in getting your flower petals open for my little guy." He leaned down and kissed her nose, pulling back with a smile. "Before, you enjoy my fucking pleasure, sweetheart." He sat back on both kneecaps and reached down, touching a finger to her throat. She closed the eyelashes with a smile of giggles. He ran a soft finger between her two breasts. She felt excitement with a grin of giggles.

He slowly slid the finger between her rib cage and down to her waist, playing with her belly button for a second time and a whisper. "Damn, it won't fit." She giggled with a grin.

He dragged the finger down over her stomach and touched the edge of her pubic hair, stopping and removed the finger with a smile. "O no! I am at the end of the line again. So, I guess that I will start at the top, again." She opened the eyelashes with a smile and stared at his grin, feeling warm and happy.

He smiled down into her face. "The tongue is the strongest muscle in the body. Did you know that, sweetheart?"

"No."

He smiled. "Close your eyes." She closed the eyelashes. He reached down and licked her forehead with a long warm wet tongue. She felt excited with a giggle. He kissed her forehead and stuck out, licking the tongue over the soft skin of her face, moving down between her two eye brows, her nose tip, and then jumped down between her breasts. She giggled from his tongue tickling sensation. He licked and kissed each breast, slowly moving down towards her belly button and then her stomach, stopping with a smile. She opened the eyelashes and stared at his smile. He reached down and parted her legs with a hand, dipping a face down into the pubic hair with a chuckle. She leaned back a skull down into the soft pillow, closing the eyelashes, feeling his tongue. His tongue strokes were gently and tender, licking and kissing her pubic hair for fun.

Trinity was getting warmer inside the cold room. His tongue moved up and down at a steady cadence. Her body changed from nervous to excitement and then from cold into hot. "O," she parted the lips with a gasp of surprise. He rotated the tongue around the outer lips of her flower. She felt more heated, slightly lifting both hips into the air for a deeper penetration of his tongue, feeling excitedly pleasure and lusty dirty. He plunged a face down below her hip bone. She watched his bald skull as it worked up and down. He used the tip of the tongue to lightly lick her flower. She groaned with delight. "Ah," she parted the lips with a grunt. Her nerve endings tickled with delight. He flicked the tip of tongue and twirled it around the outer lips of her flower, dipping the tongue down into her inner lips.

She exploded into a set of new raw emotional sensations of lusty dirty and excitedly pleasure. "O," she groaned in delight. He placed both the mouth and the lips on her wet flower, gently sucking the gathered vagina lubricant from her pussy hole. She screamed with lust. "Ah!" He stopped the lick and sat back onto an ass with a smile, cocking his baldness sideways. She felt the warmth of a body heat inside the cold room.

He chuckled with a wink at her. "Do you want some more, darling?"

"Yes!" She licked her lips with a smile at his grin. He reached down and encircled a finger around her inner lips. She felt both his finger pressure and her wet discharge moisture. He leaned down and hid a face into her public hair, licking his lips up with her virgin juice, placing a face back into her flower and tongue lashed her pussy hole. He gently blew his sweet breath into her pubic hair. She reached a new height of erotic pleasure, prolonging the anticipation of her first fuck. Then, he stopped the lick. She gasped with alarm.

Stan sat back on an ass with a smile and leaned down, crawling over her naked body with a wicked grin and a long tongue, reaching down, dragging the tip of his tongue up from her flower, her stomach, her waist, and then her rib cage. He stopped and sucked on each breast nipple and then replaced his tongue and kissed between her two breasts. He licked and dragged a tongue up her nakedness towards the throat, the chin, and going down into an open mouth, sucking on her lower lip.

He shoved open and parted her lips with a sweet tongue, attacking her taste buddies with the favor of spice from her vaginal juices with his sweet licks.

They both moaned in pleasure.

He painted her tongue inside her mouth, dripping in and out with a tongue.

Her mouth salvia puddled around her lips like the yellow colored popsicle juice had dropped down over her chin the other day inside the ballroom space and as, her mental funny sight tickled her mind from Wednesday's masturbation session with Chloe.

He lifted up and held a body in the air and over her naked body with a grin, shifting a hand, placing two fingers back into her flower and roughly massaged in and out of her pussy hole. She groaned in lusty dirty. He lifted up a smile and leaned down, attacking her tongue with his tongue.

Their tongues played with each other for domination.

He shifted a hand and reached down, roughly massaging her left breast with a left hand. She felt lusty dirty all over her body while wanting more and softly moaned with his groan.

He stopped rubbing her nakedness without kissing her lips, fucking her flower, and rubbing her tit. She opened the eyelashes to see his smile.

He softly grinned. "Lay back down on your back with your legs scooted against your butt. I'm going to place my little guy on your stomach like a little kid. Don't touch! Just watch it!" His glowing little guy was elongated into seven inches with a thick peachy-beige colored diameter of two inches. She looked down with a giggle at his man-sized penis. His dick was dripping down with sparkling moisture, twinkling at her with his man-juice.

She softly said with a smile as his penis wiggled side to side over her tummy. "It's alive."

He slid the penis back and forth over her flat tummy, dropping the dick down below her belly button, lowering it further down her hips and gently touched the top of her pubic hair. She giggled with a grin. He smiled at her smile. "This is the best position of penetration sex, body to body. Then, we can try some of my favorite positions." He gently rested down over her nakedness. She could felt his tallness and his heaviness against her nakedness.

He lifted a long body into the air and stood on two bulging biceps. Her eyeballs shifted back and forth from his biceps to his deltoids and then down to see his little guy, which was below her hips. He lifted a long body with a left bicep, reaching down with the other arm and grabbed his penis. He wiggled the tip of his little guy against her flower with a chuckle. She jolted with a powerful sensation of lusty dirty. He gently moved the penis head up and down along the lips of her flower. She closed the eyelashes and enjoyed the new erotic pleasure.

He slowly tickled her public hair, her outer soft skin, and the two lips of her flower, pulling the tip away from Trinity and lifted a torso. He sat back on both kneecaps and leaned over, gently touching the lip of her flower with a smile and a nod. "You're wet. That's good. Are you ready?"

"Yes." She smiled at her first fuck.

"Trinity."

"Yes."

"Trinity, look up at me, honey. Open your eyes." She sat upright on both elbows and stared into his eyeballs with a silly grin. He frowned. "Baby, this is going to hurt you, maybe me a little bit too. But, you a lot bit more, honey."

"I...." didn't know. Chloe didn't cover this in our masturbation class on Wednesday.

He held up two fingers together with no space with a sour frown. "Honey, you're a virgin. You're about this big."

She gasped. "O!"

"Baby, I want to you hold on to my left arm like a baby and scratch like a cat on my arm and scream like a hawk in my ear. Since, this is going to hurt you, honey. I can't help it."

"O!"

He nodded with a stern face. "Hold my arm." She shifted both hands and grabbed onto one of his taunt bicep. He nodded with a smile, feeling her soft hands, "Good, babe! Now, I'm going in. It'll hurt at first and then your vagina wall with expand. Then, your vagina will cuddle my little guy like a lost little stuff toy brown bear. Then, we are one together and forever." She smiled at his sweet statement.

He rested over her nakedness with both his legs parted around her spread legs, lifting upward onto one side to see the vagina entrance, gently guiding the tip of his penis with the other hand. She felt the heated skin of his penis touch onto the set of two tight vertical lips of her vagina with a painful scream, "Ah!" She panted for air molecules into parted lips and pulled onto his bicep with both hands. His penis pierced the set of the outer lips of her vagina. "Ah!" She screamed with panting for more air molecules into the parted lips, wanting to escape from the pain, missing the boat of pleasure and yanked violently on his bicep with fear.

He viciously punched with the tip of the penis through the soft tissue of her vagina. She scratched and clawed on his bicep with a painful scream, "Ah!" She yelled into his ear then panted for air, and then the pain stopped, "Aw!" The wall of vagina curled around his penis and as she felt warm and happy with the pain.

Then, they were one.

He held a face and a body over her smile, leaning down and tenderly kissed her lips, pulling back with a smile, "Great job, darling! Now, I'm going to move in and out. I gotta mold out some room for my little guy. So..."

"More pain..."

He exhaled with a nod. "A little pain, your flower will conform fast. Then, we're more than one. Hold on to both my arms and scream to the heavens, Trinity! I promise this is going to be great," smiling.

She exhaled with a fake smile of worry. "O!" He leaned down and shifted the penis deeper into her vagina. "Ah!" She screamed and panted for air molecules while digging all her manicured fingernails down into both his biceps as blood drained over her body. He did not yell while shifting a body in and out of her vagina. She screamed, "Ah!" She panted for more air and continued to claw at both biceps, producing tiny droplets of blood over her naked body. He shifted with more speed then quickly withdrew his penis from her vagina. She panted for more breathe from both pain and pleasure, looking with a smile at him. He sat back onto both kneecaps with pants of breath and a sweaty face. She frowned with worry. "What's wrong with me?"

He smiled without moving, "Nothing, sugar! I'm so excited about fucking you that I'm about to ejaculate. So, I'm holding it inside my guy for now."

She sat upright on both elbows with a sweaty forehead, "You are holding it for me. Why, Stan?"

He winked with a smile. "To kiss and hug and continue our lovemaking, so it lasts all night long until dawn. Bend your knees. This is going to feel really good." She shifted both legs out from underneath his kneecaps and then bent upright at both kneecaps. He thrust the penis, slowly moving in and out with a merry beat. She felt a new intense sensation of dirty lust with a grin and a giggle with selfish delight. He closed the eyelids and tossed a bald head backwards in pleasure and word.

Then, they were both getting aroused.

She smiled at his enjoyment of her body. "Aw! I feel the thrust of pleasure." Then, he stopped the thrust and stood upright on both kneecaps. His penis wiggled and waggled with a smile at her while a set of sparkling man-juice leak from the rounded tip. He leaned down and dragged the tip towards the opening of her vagina with a chuckle. She experienced a fluttering inside the tummy like a set of thousand fluttering butterflies with a giggle. He sweetly stroked her vagina with the tip of his penis, up and down teasing and taunting her.

"Do it!" She giggled with a grin.

"Naw," He winked with a chuckle.

She pouted. "Please. I can't take the anticipation anymore."

"Naw," he rubbed very smoothly the wet tip of his penis against her vagina with a smile. She wiggled with pleasure and a giggle, shifting her hips, jerking her buttocks towards his penis and tried to force him to enter. He chuckled with fun, "Naw."

"Your moves are turning me on, Stan," she smiled.

"You are turning me on, Trinity," he thrust forward the penis down into her vagina with a powerful flowing single force.

"Aw!" She screamed with delight and pain. He continued to thrust back and forth. She felt a strange pressure that was building inside her body.

He moved back and forward with his penis in a set of shallow breathing pants. "Go girl! Scream your head off."

"Aw!" She screamed in delight.

"Uh," yelled Stan.

"Aw!" She screamed in delight again and then exploded inside her body, seeing thousands of baby white stars within the eyeballs, feeling lusty dirty and excitedly pleasure. She shivered with heat. He performed a set of shorter thrusts with the penis, emptying out all his sperm into her vagina and then collapsed upon her naked body with deep pants. She sighed with erotic pleasure and wrapped both arms around his sweating body with a set of deep pants also.

Then, only a set of breathes invaded the quiet room.

She reached down and rubbed both her hands across his back muscles with a smile, "Stan, darling, I feel pleasure," Trinity enjoyed all her new body sensations with a giggle.

"O baby! I feel you, that, and other stuff." He sat back on both kneecaps with a smile to her.

She drew back both legs from underneath his chest to see something while straining both her eyelashes and her neurons with a whisper. "There's blood on the top bed linen sheet."

He tossed both arms with a chuckle and a nod, "Yeehaw! I'm your whore-man. You are my whore-woman, babe." He was very pleased with a virgin mate.

She was not pleased with his reaction, saying with a sour frown, "Stan!"

He smiled with a nod. "Okay. You're my little sex goddess. How's that? My little guy wants to smell your flower, one more time. Then, I promise and cross my heart. He'll fall fast asleep." He leaned down and kissed her lips, finger fucking her vagina with a chuckle.

06:11p.m

Ballroom location

interior setting

Fairy tale of Mary Margaret and her beau Tucker

Mary Margaret was blind, since her eyelashes were closed shut. She tilted the pointy chin of a heart shaped face deeper down into the naked neckline of an ugly antebellum dress while sitting on the edge of the pretty pink and silver silk cushioned French designed sofa, where her dress didn't match.

She didn't know that King Louis XIV built furniture pieces of settees in the color of pink.

The two inched high heeled summer sandals were hot pink coated leather that stretched over all naked toes, making her stand taller at five feet and three inches. The sandals were parked on top of the floor without a visual fidgeting of her body and her dress. Within the yesteryears of her past, her mom would reach over and pinch the top of her hand, if Mary Margaret dared to wiggle a body side to side within eye view public while acting out the bad kiddie behavior.

Both her hands were cupped down into the soft fabric of the gown inside the lap while displaying a set of lime green colored manicured fingernails with a touch of makeup on a precious face. She possessed a tone of white tinted skin which had been inherited from a British great-great grandmother and a head of black slightly wavy hair, a pair of red thin lips, and a pair of naked cheekbones with a dust of pink powder. Her mom never allowed the luxury of cosmetic makeup products on her only child.

Mary Margaret had painfully jerked all the long black tinted hair strands away from the face and the collar bone into a rough round ball which was gathered at the nape of her skull. The hair ball sagged like a set of old tits on her grandma, making Mary Margaret like an un-kept and un-couth ugly southern belle.

She had purposefully selected the ugliest dress within her wardrobe closet at Antebellum House. The gown was decorated in a bright puke green like mouth vomit. Since, her mom had tried and failed at the single delicate hand of clothing design while creating an off-the-shoulder neckline gown which was surrounded by three rows of puke green fancy lace. It took her mom and Mary Margaret two weeks, three days, four hours, and eighteen minutes to find inside the seventh fabric store in Birmingham the green fabric.

On her antebellum gown, the lace was one inch in length going around both of her thin bony shoulders while attacking the tiny 32AA sized breasts. The thick lacey bands of pretend big breasts pulled up and balanced out the three-foot-wide plantation skirt on bottom, showing off a tiny waistline with a thin hot pink velvet belt.

Inside the ballroom, the other belles were nicely endowed with both breasts and butts except for Chloe who was the same height and weight as Mary Margaret. But Chloe liked to show off too much her body, even when naked.

On the gown, her mom had ordered the seamstress to dye the white expensive satin into a lovely shade of mint green but instead got this monster.

On Mary Margaret, the antebellum skirt was covered in set of single quarter-sized neon shiny hot pink rosebuds that were glued onto the expensive puke green satin fabric. The skirt design looked like a pack of baby coon puppies with a set of four muddy pink paws had ran across the green tinted fabric while sailing out of the dog house to pee on top of the manicured green lawn, after suppertime.

Mary Margaret wore no decoration a gleaming necklace or a pair of dangling earrings or a pair of satin elbow gloves, only a small faint scent of rose perfume, when Chloe had haphazardly sprayed the personal perfume bottle at neck of Mary Margaret at the archway of the bedroom

She had been personally escorted by Jocelyn and Chloe when Chloe noted that the Mary Margaret had smelled like a fresh bar of soap of a slave girl, instead of a southern belle from the evening bath.

Mary Margaret heard the sound of a pair of tromping cowboy boots on the next lucky beau who loudly stomped over the thick wooden floor inside the Dogtrot Hall breezeway, coming from a parked limousine on top of the gravel road in front of the school. Since, Jocelyn wore a pair of pretty red summer sandals over the naked toes with a series of tiny taps of sound like a pair of mice feet over the wood.

The first beau arrived at exactly 6:02 pm and stood inside archway of the ballroom.

Mary Margaret had not seen the physical face of the first beau, since she had bowed down a chin while kissing the top of her exposed breast tissue but clearly heard a set of breath sighs from the other belles like the first beau was a royal king of a foreign country. All the beaus were a set of country princes at Antebellum House tonight.

Mary Margaret exhaled the sour breath where she had been holding. She heard the set of loud footpads coming closer, since both her eyelashes were closed. The other four biological senses of her body had taken over the mental mind. She tasted dry raw apple breathe from a tiny lunch at noontime, since she had not eaten a bite of supper, without literally vomiting the nasty liquid contents back up into her private toilet inside the bedroom. Because, her mouth salvia had fallen asleep while hiding inside the set of tiny taste bud beds, failing to water a tongue and some teeth from her extreme nervousness.

She reached down and touched a hand of curved finger pads against the softness of the knuckles of the other hand since she was a privileged bitch within her family household while never performing any type of domestic labor around the elegant country homestead of her parents.

She could smell Bethel's musky lady woodlands odor that from a perfumed body on her right side. Jocelyn was a book smart and a smartass while sitting Mary Margaret between the two big beautiful ebony black-skinned girls of Bethel and Tyleigh.

Mary Margaret couldn't compete with the generously female body features of the other belles, so the view of the staged set made her look like a cute and fragile innocent virgin who was both precious and demur. She exhaled another held breath. Jocelyn has promised that she would find a sweet beau who wouldn't hurt Mary Margaret during sex. She inhaled the breath before passing out from nervousness.

The footpads suddenly stopped at the open archway of the ballroom.

Mary Margaret imaged the second new beau and her school sister Jocelyn. They stood inside the wide eleven-foot archway door of Antebellum House with a set of smiles.

All the door archways were built to accommodate the fashion-era 1600's hoop skirts, 1800's bustles, and 1900's long dress trains of each young teen female with her mother's attire, since two female bitches traveled in a pair that visited at Antebellum House from yesteryears to modern days of tonight.

Her neurons imaged. Jocelyn held the forearm of the handsome beau with a giggle and a grin like a silly love-sick high school teen. Her red velveteen plantation gown waddled side to side like a duck while shifting both curvy hips to the left and to the right, then to the right and to the left, trying to exhibit a sex goddess in a three-foot-wide gown that covered all her great sexy body parts.

Inside the archway of the ballroom, Jocelyn stood with an arm over the forearm of the second beau with a smile and a giggle to see each girl. "Belles, this is our beau. Beau, these are your belles. Pick a belle for your delight?"

Gawd. Mary Margaret exhaled with a set of nervous dry apple-scented breath and continued to close her eyelashes, pointing a chin down into her naked chest. Jocelyn exhibited a prime tacky behavior of an ex-girlfriend who was going with her ex-boyfriend on a first time date with his new girl.

Silence lingered within the air waves of the ballroom setting.

The pair of cowboy boots moved ahead and stomped around the hard wooden floor of the ballroom. This room was used for dancing and gathering of social events for both the belles and beaus as the second lucky beau paced steady more towards the side wall of windows.

Jocelyn and the belles had scooted around all the different colored and textured long sofas over the floor into a U-shape with all ten sofas facing each other. Mary Margaret hid inside her bedroom while refusing to perform any manual labor like a country princess.

Jocelyn was the pretend "hostess with the mostess" for this "fuck fest" as Chloe kept repeating with an elegant alto. So, Jocelyn didn't need her own pretty sofa. She would get to keep the last beau that showed up inside the limousine after all the other eleven girls were neatly tucked down into their private bed mattress while doing the infamous "wild thing."

Emma, the twins Autumn and Spring, and Trinity held the honor of occupying an individual long sofa that was located across from the archway of the ballroom within the curve of the U-shaped formation. Chloe, Naomi, Peyton, and Zoey sat alphabetically inside an individual long sofa that was across from the wall of windows inside the U-shaped formation, since they had fought like a litter of weaning kittens over a prime position of the sofa.

Mary Margaret sat on top of the middle sofa in-between the sofas of Bethel and Tyleigh that was located in front of the windows within the U-formation as the sound of cowboy boots veered over towards the wall of windows coming from the archway. O! O! O!

She cupped both hand tightly without fidgeting and held her breath, keeping both eyelashes shut and a chin down into a chest while showing off a messy hair bun with a neatly parted white scalp. She had wished that she hadn't bathed but remained sweaty and stinky from her afternoon physical jog instead of smelling like a row of garden roses.

The boots stomped closer towards the windows. No. No. No.

The boots passed the sofa with Tyleigh and Mary Margaret heard the vocal loud sigh of disappointment from Tyleigh. On the other side of Mary Margaret, a swift rattle of Bethel expensive left bangle arm bracelets signaled her willingly acceptance of the newest beau.

His boots stopped in silence and parked ten inches away from the hairy skull of Mary Margaret.

Not me. Not me. Not me. She felt his tallness standing over her shortness.

His legs wobbled side to side as his boot heels softly clicked together within the eardrums of Mary Margaret. He examined her skull, her dress, and her hands.

She heard his breathing of mixed excitement and happiness and sensed heat that poured out from his tallness near her forehead. Her face absorbed all the manly odors of citrus and leather filling both nostrils. She tasted dry apples within the mouth, because she didn't have a thick coat of mouth salvia to swallow down a tight throat, but she might vomit instead. Since, her tummy had been invaded with thousands of fluttering butterflies that might shift the food back up into her esophagus. Go away. Go away. Go away.

The beau cleared a dry throat for her eardrums. She was blind and kept both eyelashes shut. A deep sexy baritone sounded and sweet breathed over her hair roots, "Hey, cutie." He swung a smile to see to Jocelyn. Mary Margaret felt the wavering breeze of his arm fly near her skull.

He grunted, "Her!"

Jocelyn shouted in a queenly attitude and stared at the girl, "Her is named Mary Margaret. Get up, Mary Margaret!" Mary Margaret refused to stand without moving. She was blind and kept both eyelashes shut. Her hands were cupped down into the lap of the skirt. Her sandals were parked on top of the floor and Mary Margaret ruled her body, not Jocelyn.

A set of five fingers reached down and gently touch her naked forearm, man-pulling Mary Margaret up from the long sofa. She opened the eyelashes and gritted the teeth like a prize fighter for the fight. A fight will not happen, since she was a southern belle.

She wiggled on a pair of shaky legs inside the set of tall summer sandal heels side to side while catching her balance, before she fell over the floor from nervousness and shock. The beau reached out and grabbed onto her naked forearm while helping Mary Margaret to steady upright with a soft chuckle of amusement.

She shifted both eyelashes down to the dress hem of puke green satin and stared down at his cowboy boots of polished shiny black python-snake skin. She knew her boots. Then, the eyeballs shifted up to see a pair of faded destroyer blue jeans that exhibited a series of slashed horizontal denim threads across a right kneecap, exposing the naked skin.

Her eyeballs lifted upward to see a matching black python waist belt and admired the tight cotton white shirt that was filled out a muscular chest and a pair of two broad shoulders and halted at his Adam's apple, jolting up and down. He chuckled with a smile of good teeth. His eyeballs studied and stared down at her hair roots. She looked up with a stern face to see a pair of bright aqua-pale pupils. Handsome.

His complexion was well-tanned in a rich coffee-color from the hot Alabama sunshine, making her beau a true cowboy, probably on a ranch somewhere around south of Leed.

She knew all the cow and horse ranches around Birmingham.

He possessed a heart-shaped face. His wide forehead narrowed down towards a jaw line of light dusted blonde whiskers, wearing a head of blonde curl shoulder length locks, barely tipping the fabric of his shirt. Sun god!

She dropped open a mouth and quickly jerk back a body from him, since she didn't want to do the wild thing with a sun god or an earth god or no guy, but a faithful husband.

He swiftly pulled her into a hard chest, hiding her face between a pair of two rounded biceps, leaning down with a whisper into her eardrum. "I'm Tucker. You can call me, Tucker. I don't like Tuck or Stan, the man. Okay, precious!"

"Stan, the man?" She whispered back with confusion.

"Tucker is me. I am Tucker, sweetie. Can I call you, Mary?" Tucker, not Tuck or Stan, the man repeated into her eardrum and cuddled her closer into his chest.

"Yeah," she said between the set of hard muscles.

Tucker grunted with a laugh and spun them around in a half-circle, tucking her tiny frame into his armpit of five feet, nine inches, an average height for a male. His tallness over towers and over powers her petiteness. She waddled fast on a pair of sandals heels within the plantation dress while tickling his pair of blue jeans. Tucker chuckled.

They swiftly moved towards the open archway.

He stared down at her black hair roots, saying to Jocelyn, "Thanks, girl!" Mary Margaret opined with hate for Jocelyn while desiring to bitch-slap a right fighting fist into the pretty pink tinted face of Jocelyn while supplying a beautifully blackened eyeball.

Jocelyn waved with a smile at the back spine of Tucker. "Have fun, Tucker!" Now, Mary Margaret desired a shotgun from the locked and sealed weapon safe at her father's home to execute the brutal cold-blooded murder of Jocelyn.

Tucker turned to the side into the breezeway like he knew the building layout, lifting her into the air shortly and flying over the wooden planks as she couldn't coordinate her high heels and the long dress train fast enough with his long legs. He lowered her down to the wooden planks and grabbed, holding her hand, strolling over the cool breezeway with a whisper down into her eardrum, "Mary is a pretty name. Mary had a little lamb. Its fleece was white as snow. You are a cute little thing, darling. Jocelyn said that you be tiny like a baby. Be careful with you! She's right. Your skin is soft and white like snowflakes. You look like that fairy princess like Snowy Whiteness with your black hair and white skin."

She exhaled with a puff of annoyance and recycled the nice honor with a mumble, "You look like that Greek god Ares."

"Thanks, kindly." Tucker turned with a chuckle and entered the parlor room of the bells.

She skidded to a halt and stood next to his tallness with a worried brow, staring with fear at the pretty baby blue colored west wall, looking at the circular loveseat of hot pink fabric that nicely curves like a swan's body. The loveseat on the rear wall would easily accommodate Mary Margaret and her wide antebellum dress for sitting with a teacup of mint tea. The rectangular shaped room did not display one single art painting or a framed picture on a naked wall.

She noted the other selections that consisted of various mismatched loveseat furniture shapes, textures, and patterns, such like, modern fake black leather, soft beige linen fabric, butter golden wool and others that covered all the different loveseats. She saw a fugly ugly loveseat of white background fabric with a horizontal row of big red petal flowers on the back rest. A middle row of yellow flowers would slap a butthole and the bottom row of baby blue petal flowers would kiss her legs.

Her eyeballs shifted to the far left corner at a wooden platform that held thirty-six hidden steps. The steps led up into an enclosed three-sided staircase that was haunted by three she-ghosts.

She had never traversed this room or the staircase, since Deborah, the teachers, and Jocelyn had confirmed the she-ghost story. Mary Margaret always routed a skirt around the shaded and cool wrap-around front porch, scooting back and forth from her private chamber and back into each academic classroom avoiding this place totally.

She pointed with a worried brow towards the side window that showed the front porch. "That way is the front porch. The wrap-around porch takes us all the way around the building. Then, we enter the stair case on the west side. There are flood lights for marking a clear non-dangerous path of walking."

Tucker scanned the parlor room with a smile, seeing an empty but pretty space. "Naw, pumpkin, the quickest route over to the belle's garconniere is up the steps."

"How do you know about the garconniere?" She turned and stared with a worried brow at the haunted staircase.

Tucker continued to stare with a smirk at staircase. "I used to live here as an undergraduate student during my days at Burn U, before I entered the Bam State law school. Then, the beaus moved and occupied a newly built Rebel Den per our dads. That's the explaining that I got. Let's go!" He moved forward with a smile towards the staircase.

"The staircase's haunted, Tucker," she jerked backward from his hand and his body with a worried brow.

He leaned down and pulled her towards the staircase with a smile. "Bullshit! Someone is playing a trick on all of you sweet little belles. That's all, sweetheart," he continued to move towards the staircase.

"No, it's haunted. Everyone swears to it," she exhaled with fear.

Tucker leaned down with whisper over her hair roots with a smile. "Don't be scared, precious! I won't let anyone harm you, babe. I'll taking care of you from now on, sugar. I promise, cupcake," he shoved her towards the elevated platform, before the first step on the staircase. Mary Margaret felt both faint and flight and then somehow broke foot loose of his tight hug. He gladly released her with a laugh and stomped across the floor marching upon the elevated platform and placed a boot toe on the first step that led up towards the thirty-six hidden ghost-haunted footsteps. He stopped and turned with a smile and a wink to see her, "Lookie, darling! I'm gonna prove that no gawd damn fucking she-ghosts live here."

She stopped and stood in place, staring with fear. Then, her smart neurons kicked into motion while dropping open a mouth in shock, turning to see the front porch that allowed her freedom from Tucker and the thought of running away and hiding until dawn. Then, she would call her father and mother for help.

He saw her surprised facial expression, whirling around off the step. She back stepped onto the rear of the long dress train and reached back, gathering and jerked the rear dress train up to the exposed rear legs and scooted sideways, dashing towards the open lawn, going down the unlit granite front steps that led to freedom and the white gravel roadway. She could maneuver around in the concealed darkness of the night like a hoot owl, grinning with adventure and excitement.

She tripped over the front hem of the dress, of course, from both nervousness and fear, since the heroine in the fairy tale movie received two chances of freedom, while Mary Margaret didn't.

Tucker raced after her and stopped, standing behind her sandals. She slowly lifted an ass into the air from the hard granite while rolling a set of tears from both eyeballs with a set of soft sobs. He bent down and touched, grabbing her tiny waistline with a smile, lifting Mary Margaret into the air with his manly strength, tapping both of her sandals on top of the granite and twirled her around. She spun around with a dizzy head to see his smile. Her beau wasn't even mad at her failed escape plan.

He cuddled her into a chest and leaned down with a whisper and a smile into her eardrum, "Whoa, girl! Jocelyn mentioned that you might be a skittish little filly. She was right. But that was fun, thou. I liked chasing you down but I wished that I had some rope," he pulled back with a smile to see her crying face. "Awe, precious! Are you hurting? Are you bleeding anywhere? I guessed your big fluffy dress saved you, huh? You took a nasty fall, darling. Well, let's get you upstairs, so I can give you a personal body examination. Okay, doll?" He cuddled her into a chest and reached down, kissing the middle of her forehead like a good beau, pulling back with a smile and spun around, strolling back through the belle parlor room for a second visit. "Let's wake up them she-ghosts!"

She reached up and wiped off the tears from both eye sockets with one hand as she was more afraid of Tucker then the stupid ghosts.

They quickly strolled across the room and stopped on top of the elevated platform, releasing her, standing with her at the edge of the first staircase step. He reached over and shifted Mary Margaret in front of his chest as they both faced the dark and black colored staircase. He smiled. "I'll lift and carry you up the steps. Okay? All right! If a she-ghost touches you, I'll kill it. I promise, darling! Here goes nothing, sweetheart," he lifted her up by the waistline a few inches and clearing and traveling onto the first step with a smile, "I hear and feel nothing." He moved up toward the second step with a smile, "I hear and feel more nothings," he swiftly advanced up to the fourth step and stopped with a laugh, "I hear and feel lots of nothings," he rapidly moved up to the sixth step and then the seventh step.

Mary Margaret felt a cold chilling breeze which attacked the tip of her nose bridge coming from the right side of the enclosed wall that contained all the colored and non-colored pictures of the dead belles and screamed from fright. "No!" She sobbed with a set of rolling tears from the fear of the she-ghosts.

He quickly flipped around and cuddled her into his chest with a stern face. "What do you feel, cupcake?"

"I felt a set of cold chilly fingers on my nose..."

He chuckled with a smile. "I promised that I'll protect you, darling," Tucker lifted her up from the steps and into the air, wrapping her body around his chest like he was wearing a backpack. He wrapped one arm around her waist with the other arm across her shoulders. His left palm hugged the rear of her skull. She cried into his shirt with both fright and nervousness. He sailed up to the fourteenth step without a she-ghost attack. There were a set of thirty-six narrow steep pieces of naked wood.

Mary Margaret quickly felt another blast of cold chilling air that hit his hand and then bounced into her earlobe like a set of icy cold ghost fingers while crying with shock. Tucker continued to move up the steps with a smile, "Sh, darling! I'll protect you," he charged the remaining twenty steps with her on his chest. She felt both numb and dumb of fright and fear then sometimes she felt a single cold blast of breeze across one of her earlobes. Tucker completely covered the rest of her with his body for protection.

They hit the top step of the wooden platform without a planted pot of mini-trees or an art painting.

Tucker stopped and stood on top of the level platform, dropping her down to the floor with a chuckle without panting from the vigorous workout, challenging the she-ghosts and thirty-six steps of a haunted stairwell. He exhaled with a smile. "Whoa! That was a wild ride."

"The ghosts are mad," she whispered.

He laughed with a nod. "Hell! I'm mad. I didn't ever believe the belles, when I lived here at Antebellum House that there were really a nest of she-ghosts. I wished that I had, because I would have tried to fuck one. That would have been fun or funny. Have you heard of fucking a ghost?"

"No," she whispered.

Tucker reached over and cradled her underneath an armpit, spinning them towards the outer hallway, moving down the top of the grand staircase, where all the rooms stood. He smiled, "Me, either. Where's your room?" He lifted her and her long dress up from the hard surface, clearing each step with care, since he desired avoiding a body fall of death from the high four stories of wooden steps which tumbled down onto a hard floor of granite on the first level.

She frowned with worry. "It is on the first level on the extreme left right before the granite sideway," she felt the set of fluttering butterflies inside her tummy, since the scare of three she-ghosts had been purged from her memory banks, not tough guy Tucker.

"Is it locked?" He elegantly sailed down the steps with her and cut his eyeballs to see each wooden door.

"No. The door is located on your right."

Tucker gently dropped her down to the tile and slid to the side, grabbing the door knob, opening the wood with a smile of happiness and entered her private chamber first.

Private bedroom setting Mary Margaret

She slowly followed behind his blue jeans and stopped, swirling around, gently closing and locked the door, exhaling and inhaling slowly, so she didn't faint from nervousness.

He shouted out loud, "Strip for me, girl!"

She closed her eyelashes and slowly twirled around, modeling like a southern belle in front of the closed door. She felt the soft satin fabric tickle her naked legs without seeing Tucker, but she felt his heat near the bed mattress. She reached around and slowly untied the rear oversized bow of hot pink velvet around the waist when the plantation dress exploded into an ugly puke green potato sack that still covered her girly parts, hearing his chuckle.

She reached in front and pulled on the three satin ribbons underneath the lace, releasing the tight fabric from her shoulders, exposing a cute tiny pink bra that held a pair of tiny 32AA breasts. Tucker hooted at her sexy performance.

She slowly dropped down both arms against each side when the gown swiftly descended down to the flooring, revealing a pair of cute pink ruffled pair of silk panties that still covered her private parts where no true southern belle would ever show, before her wedding honeymoon. Tucker grunted with lust.

She opened both eyelashes and stared at him. He sat his ass on the edge of the bed mattress still fully dressed in the boots, the blue jeans, the T-shirt, and the smile. She was the sex princess who was entertaining the stud prince while exhaling her held breath with nervousness.

She lifted up a single foot and unbuckled the leather strip on the sandals. Tucker shook a skull with a smile. "Naw, I like. Keep the high heels on! You're sexy kitten. Come here, sugar!"

She exhaled and then inhaled with nervousness without moving and then stepped towards him. Tucker slid off the bed and stood upright, leaning down and reached out, man-pulling her into his shirt. He was taller by a head length. Her forehead was equal at his mouth. He leaned over and gently kissed the middle of her forehead like a good beau, leaning down with a smile and a whisper into her eardrum. "Jocelyn told me to be very gentle and tender with you, darling. I like that you're both shy and beauty. I can feel you trembling between my arms, baby!" she sniffed up the running mucus with nervousness as a flood of tears bombard both eyeballs. Tucker whispered with a smile. "Don't cry, cupcake! That comes after we finish fucking. Then, you can ball your little eyeballs all night long in my arms. How's that, baby?" she sobbed with more tears.

Tucker gently pushed her away from his body. She moved backward away from him towards the doorway and stared with rolling tears at his tallness. He lifted both palms on the collar and violently ripped off the T-shirt down the middle with a smile and a laugh at her, "See, gorgeous? I can strip for you too," he whirled the ripped item like a rope in the air waves. She giggled with amusement. He lifted and swung the ripped item around his hair roots for a few seconds then around his boots while entertaining and making her feel comfortable.

They both giggled and laughed at his silly performance.

He tossed it into the air as the ripped shirt haphazardly reached the peak and then fell back down over the floor, landing near the window and the bathroom door frame. Tucker slapped both palms together in front of a flat tummy while shifting both of his beefy arms in a V-pose, entertaining her and flexed both sides of his rounded biceps and triceps up and down for fun. She giggled with a smile at Tucker and his moving muscles.

He stopped and posed with a set of biceps in a ninety-degree angle with a smile and then reached down, grabbing and whipped the belt out from all the loops, whirling it up and around in the air above his hair roots. He shifted the belt side to side in front a chest and wiggled both hips side to side. She giggled with a smile at his silly clown performance.

He tossed and flung the belt towards the high ceiling as it twisted in the air waves and reached its peak trajectory, falling back down, landing on top of the floor between the foot board and the settee. He back stepped and sat an ass on the edge of my mattress, bending a knee, lifting a right boot up from the floor. He jerked the boot off a foot with the dirty sock and then stuffed the sock down into the boot, leaning a torso around the nightstand, gently placing the cowboy boot away from the bed with a stern face. "Don't mess with a man's boots, darling. Remember that?" She nodded in silent acknowledgement.

Tucker duplicated the action with other cowboy boot and then stood upright from the bed, staring with a smile at her. Mary Margaret blinked both eyelashes and watched the next surprise.

Tucker jerked a hand and cover the mouth while shaping the lips in the letter O, swinging around to face the bed mattress. She heard the zipper of a pair of blue jeans and held her breath while back stepping from him with nervousness, hitting her naked shoulder blades into the wooden door.

He about faced and held both hands on the top of the opened blue jeans at the waistline, showing off more suntanned skin and lifted both hands into the air when the jeans fell down to his naked ankles. She dropped open a mouth and shuffled her sandals side to side in nervousness.

Tucker lifted a right foot out the jeans and then a left foot, kicking the pair of blue jeans to the side towards the window while standing upright only in a pair of white underwear briefs with a goofy grin at her. Her heart dropped down to her toes. He reached up and placed both hands behind a skull, rotating the hips, twirling around and around for show with a chuckle. She narrowed her eyelashes for the next maneuver and stared at his underwear briefs.

He reached down and grabbed the waistband, swiftly pulling down the briefs, dropping a torso and a face down towards his naked ankles as his muscled shoulder blades hid the penis from her eyeballs. She swiftly back stepped and hit the closed door wood with her skull, both her shoulder blades, and her butthole with the pair of pink panties.

Tucker slowly stood upright and exposed a semi-beige colored little curved penis inside a forest of blonde hair beside a pair of two hairy round balls, representing his manhood. She covered the mouth with both hands and stared at the exposed penis.

Tucker swung around with a chuckle to face the mattress, completely pulling off the white ruffled silk bedcover and the matching bed linens from the bed, revealing only the fitted white linen sheet over the mattress. Her delicate female bed items draped and hung over a foot board, dangling down over the floor. He lifted up and crawled over the mattress, standing on top, twisting around his nakedness to the side with a face and the penis towards the footboard, patting his chest with a smile to Mary Margaret. "Get up here, babe!"

She had noted that Tucker had called her quite a few endearing nicknames, including, babe, baby, doll, darling, precious, pumpkin, sugar, sweetheart, girl, gorgeous, cutie, cupcake, not Mary. She rolled both eyeballs and stared at him, again, marching across the floor, since this was the reason for his visit and her wearing a pink bra and a pair of matching ruffled pink panties.

Tucker danced side to side and shook his penis on top of her bed mattress within his sun god nudeness, leaning down and stood upright on both knees, reaching over and grabbed both her biceps, lifting and scooted her across the mattress in front of his nudeness. She posed on her kneecaps while wearing the pair of stupid heels inside her bed mattress.

He jerked her forward into his full body nakedness and wrapped both arms tightly around her shoulders, giving her a hug and pulled back, gently kissing the middle of her wide forehead with a pair of soft lips.

She felt the hardness of his deltoid breasts against her shoulders, since she was short when compared to his tallness. She reacted to the softness of his penis that continued to rub against her belly button with a grin and a giggle of nervousness and excitement and reached out, placing both hands on each side of his fit waist right below the armpits.

Tucker pulled back with a smile, "Let's take down your pretty hair," he reached up and gently untangled the decorative hot pink hair band from her hair and then flicked it like a boogier down to the floor with a laugh, reaching over and tossed her soft hair into the air with a smile. He twirled her soft hair strands around both hands, releasing the hair, pulling the loose strands from her face and dropped down both palms on her collar bone with a smile. "You are so pretty, precious. I don't know what to do first to you, darling. There is so many things that I want to share and show with you, cupcake."

"Tickle me!" Mary Margaret charged the challenge and reached up, bending all fingers and scratched her nails against his tender ticklish skin right below both of his armpits on both sides of a rib cage in a surprise belle move. Tucker giggled like a girl while instinctively curling both arms back into a body, protectively hugging the tender skin from her shocking attack. She continued to shift and rub all her fingernails across his deltoid shoulders between his deltoid breasts, over his heart organ, down to his belly button, and up to his Adam's apple. Tucker giggled like a girl again without catching her active hands.

Mary Margaret swiftly reached down and tickled his fit waist, shifting both hands in the front, around the waist sides, to the rear back, scratching all her sharply manicured nails down to his and back up towards his neck, leaving a trail of red tinted girly fingernail imprints. Tucker giggled from her cute belle moves and held both arms tucked down underneath both armpits, so she couldn't attack the sensitive skin for a second time. She stopped the scratch on his shoulder blades with a smile. He continued to laugh and caught his giggling breath.

She reached up and parked a pair of cupped hands around the rear of his neck, staring with her narrowed eyelashes at him while thinking her evil thought. He stopped the giggle and stared into her eyeballs. She said with a soft sexy tenor, "Neck rub, darling!" Without waiting for a sigh of acceptance from Tucker, she gently teased and rubbed the set of rear of neck muscles with a set of sharply manicured fingernails while getting him to relax. He slowly tossed back the head with a soft moan of pleasure coming from her firm neck massage with her pair of talented hands and finger pads.

She reached around his manly throat and gently tickled an Adam's apple with a left hand. Tucker dropped both nostrils down into her soft neckline while smelling the fresh spray of garden roses, gently posing the neck. Her eyeballs spotted a set of his bugling blue veins that rose up like a flag to greet her smile after he had lowered the skull down to her like a peasant. She grinned with her evil thoughts.

Her bedroom was well illuminated with bright lights which allowed for perfect vision and as she saw a dark blue pulsation wave on the side throat neck of Tucker, a left external jugular vein. The jugular vein flickered like the tongue of snake, going back and forth against his smooth coffee tinted skin. She giggled with her evil thoughts.

She reached out and pressed a right index fingernail into the pulsation of his left bulging jugular vein while watching with a pair of semi-trained medical eyeballs. The external jugular vein wavered up and down which indicated that Tucker was a healthy male without a venous clot that might just kill him. She chuckled with her evil thoughts.

Her parents were a pair of practicing physicians. Her mom was a very successful brain surgery as she was the smart one in my family. Her father was the fun one that spoiled his daughter rotten while giving Mary Margaret anything that she wanted but a badass boyfriend and a run of freedom.

Her two eyeballs spied from the right to the left at his bulging jugular vein which flicked at highest point of wave pulsation which indicated the highest peak of blood flow straight into the brain cells of Tucker, down through the spinal cord, and finally into the heart organ. She giggled with her evil thoughts.

She reached over and swiftly stroked with a pair of sharp claws of her left hand, scratching on the right side of his throat while covering the belle ploy. She tenderly teased and poked a right index fingernail at the left bulging jugular vein which caused another peak of both pain and pleasure within his brain and his body. Her eyelashes cut down to the right side of the bed mattress, seeing a sliver of silver and as the cross-stitch needle glittered underneath the bright overhead lights.

She slowly reached over and drew out the sewing instrument with a right index finger and a thumb, grasping the homemade bud of silver thread which was shaped into a gripping ball with a grin of her evil thoughts.

She slowly lifted the tiny needle into the air and hid it within her naked skin that blended well with her snowy white pale complexion and rounded the wrist bone in the air like she was stretching out the bone ligaments from too much hand exercise. And then she twisted the hand with a set of four gathered fingers towards the colorful blue pulse wave on the left side neck muscles of Tucker. She reached down and then quickly drew, tapping the sharp steel tip of the cross-stitch needle down into his external left jugular vein such like a mosquito bite.

The tip of the needle contained a low mixture of 25 mg dosage of methanqualone, a sleeping aid. Mary Margaret based the drug mixture on an average's man weight and height, since Jocelyn didn't supply any biological body statistics of each beau.

She reached down and deeply dug a set of finger claws on her left hand down into the right throat skin of Tucker. He gasped for cool air with an open mouth and a pair of inflamed nostrils, coming from the playful and painful belle hand move. She quickly jerked out the needle tip from the left side of his neck with her belle smirk.

Tucker slowly lifted and stared with a goofy grin at her while slowly groaning like a drowning seal from the shock of belle pain. She lowered a right arm back down and hid the used needle below her and his eyeballs, rapidly stabbing the needle tip sideways down into the soft mattress while the needle eye was slightly exposed for a second finger retrieval next belle week.

Her eyeballs observed his physical condition. A tiny red blood line traveled down from his left external jugular vein, moving over a minor vein which directed the blood flow down into his left earlobe, around his neck, and then attacked his spinal cord. Tucker slowly closed both eyelids while feeling the swift effects of sleep from the direct punch of a tiny dosage of methanqualone and slowly bowed a chin down into his naked chest. She grinned with her evil deed.

His numb body fell down into her two open arms, resting a precious head on her left shoulder, immediately lip drooling like a well-fed baby.

She grinned with the evil deed and gently pushed Tucker backward from her face, allowing gravity to aid Mary Margaret into tenderly resting him on top of the soft mattress and crawled off the bed on the side, rolling him sideways and away from the edge of the bed onto his back muscles in a more comfortable vertical pose of zombieness.

She grinned with the evil deed and reached out, straightening his bend legs at the kneecaps, stretching him fully towards the footboard and posed his left arm down over bed linen beside a waist. She back stepped and turned, rushing the pair of heels around the bed mattress like a house mother with a giggle and a grin and stopped on the other side of the bed, reaching out and straightening all of right limbs for ease of his deep sleep.

She reached down and gently pulled out the sewing needle holding it in front of a smile, dropping down and slipped it back down into the cloth needle cache as she had cleverly snapped the cloth needle cache onto the side mattress with a set of white matching sewing snaps.

In the application of sewing, when a seamstress found a gap in the clothes that was not befitting a southern belle, a talented seamstress would sew a single metal snap between the fabric pieces hiding the snap, as well as, the exposed belle skin.

A sew-able snap had six tiny little holes that were built into the edge of the metal for hand stitching with a needle and a string of cotton thread on any fabric canvas learning as a teen while sewing with her great, great Grandmother Cantwell. I had sewed thirteen of the white snaps in a cone-sized design while mounting and holding a white cone-shaped needle pin cushion that matched her white linens in case someone got curious.

She tenderly loosened the pin cushion out from the mattress and back stepped from the bed, turning and moved ahead storing the criminal evidence inside her foot sock drawer of the clothing armoire. Since a pair of socks could get dirty swiftly and then laundry cleanly without someone getting curious with a giggle of her nasty deed.

She slowly spun around wearing the pink bra, matching panties, and a pair of heeled sandals while admiring the sun god who was noting a fine species of male and slept like a baby with a giggle of her evil deed.

Her eyelashes gleamed up and down at her captive prey that slept on top of her soft mattress for the evening and jerked the eyeballs to see the wall corner intersection and as she frowned at the non-matching lavender cloth settee, her new sleeping bed for the evening. Shit!

She viewed the sun god again while wishing beyond her neurons that she could shove his ass off her bed mattress and drop his ass down onto the hard floor for her good night's slumber inside her personal bed mattress. But one, she was not that strong. Two, she could not ask for help from the belles either. Too bad!

She moved around in the heels towards the bed frame while dying to try, feel him, and maybe gently touch him, since Tucker was sleeping with nothing short of a heavenly angel's touch or a dump truck load of smelling sauce to awaken the sun god with a giggle at her nasty deed.

The methanqualone drug normally was administrated through an oral application like a mouth. It took twenty minutes to ingest the solid drug through the stomach. However, Mary Margaret had stabbed it directly into his left exterior jugular vein that worked the drug down into his blood traveling straight into his brain for a faster speedy service. She giggled at her nasty deed.

She stared with a pair of semi-trained medical eyeballs and a set of smart neurons at the puncture wound on the throbbing left jugular vein while noting no red insertion point. But she was not surprise, since the selected Chenille needle had a very fine sharp tip which was equal in diameter radius to a hospital syringe needle like getting a shot of penicillin for a sore throat. And Tucker was very healthy and she noted the puncture pick closed immediately without a trace of vampire blood on his neck. She chuckled at her silly thoughts.

She was not worried about Tucker getting tetanus from the selected cross-stitch needle, since it had been bathed and sterilized in the drug which was used by any and all drug addicts for mental pleasure. Plus, Tucker had all the required medical shots for entrance into law school also.

The sewing needle was a sharpened piece of metal that would cause harm, if it had been shoved through a piece of human outer skin like a piercing needle which was used for personal body tattoos. A piercing needle was a hollow needle with set of razor sharp edges on the pointy tip.

Mary Margaret had gotten the clever idea to use, shove, and hide a cross-stitch needle back into a pin cushion, after completing her needlepoint green tinted fabric turtle in Miss Alice's needlepoint class plus the vocal rejection from her father without getting away from Antebellum House on a Friday night. Then the physical package from her medical physician father came and contained a bottle of the blue pills of methanqualone for better sleep coming from the stressful first week of college.

One popular design of pin cushions was a red tinted fabric tomato-shape measuring four inches along the curved seams with an inch-long strawberry-shaped attachment on the side of the decorative cushion. The two fruity pin design patterned cushions came from the Victorian Era in the foreign country of Great Britain. The charmed stated: If a person received a new tomato, then the vegetable would repel all the evil spirits inside the new home of the person or couple.

A typical pin cushion was filled with wool to prevent rust on the steel when storing and using a batch of sewing needles. The smaller strawberry-shaped pin cushion was filled with regular sand grains that cleaned and sharpen the needle tips.

The drug was packaged in a blue tinted pill which was labeled from the pharmacist at 100 mg per 1 ml, where "mg" was a measure of weight and "ml" was the measure of liquid. In the medical case, one tiny blue tined pill had the strength of 100 mg which was equal to a single aspirin for a headache. Mary Margaret needed to use a smaller strength dosage, since she had planned to insert the medication directly into a neck vein which would go directly into both his brain and his nervous system, without killing poor gullible Tucker.

Mary Margaret had learned a lot of medical stuff from her parents during one of her medical teen training sessions while trailing behind them like a puppy around the private physician medical office in metro city Birmingham.

The strength dosage of a 25 mg prescription medication was a low dose, where a clinical patient used the drug similar like a daily vitamin for the rest of a life to control numerous medical symptoms.

The strength dosage of 50 mg was a therapeutic dose that alleviated a set of constant mood swings of mental states, such as, depression, anxiety, or irritability within the mind of the medical patient.

The high dosage strength of 100 mg caused clinical symptoms as a pair of shaky hand movements, jaw clenching, and sometimes out of body experiences which had been reported and documented by numerous drugged medical patients.

She had crushed up one-fourth of the 100 mg blue tinted pill of methanqualone dissolving the tiny chunks of drug inside one of the empty but pretty display teacups on top of the polished dressing bureau. The teapot and the teacups were only a visual decoration inside the bedroom making the southern bell feel, taste, and touch the charm of Old South.

Then, she had brewed a pot of hot water and crushed one of the blue tinted pills into a smooth liquid inside the tea cup. She had cut up a tiny, tiny barely open hole at the bottom of the strawberry-shaped cushion while allowing half of the internal sand grains to dirty a second teacup. She had wasted most of the crushed up methanqualone liquid pouring it back down into the tail hole of the stiff strawberry cushion pen as the cloth leaked up a tiny set of droplets of liquid but didn't burst.

She had allowed the drug to settle between the grains of sand, stitched it back up with the needle, and then stabbed the long silver steel-coated needle down into the strawberry pin while allowing the methanqualone drug to soak like a cold bubble bath around the tip of the needle, without the pink tinted bubbles.

When Mary Margaret had retrieved the wet needle, the drug was thoroughly coated over the outer steel. Then she had drained a couple of tiny droplets down into his open vein coming from the sharp pointy tip of sewing needle. The drug had expeditiously attacked his nervous system and then placed Tucker into a fairyland dream state for the next eight hours. She chuckled with her brilliant plot. The only way any smart person could guess his medical condition would be if he had a blood sedimentation test which was performed in a hospital setting.

The side effects of the sleep aid drug methanqualone included obviously drowsiness, a reduced heart rate, and a reduced respiration. If she or Tucker continued to use the addictive drug on a regular basis, he could acquire a dependence on methanqualone. But she won't let that happen, since she was only using the sleep aid to relieve his tension, stress, and anxiety of mentally and physically of not getting fucked by innocent virgin southern belle Mary Margaret. She giggled with her evil deed.

She reached out and gently pressed a hand on top of his left deltoid feeling his heart beat that thumped between the finger pads. Her neurons echoed a steady rhythm, since a side effect of methanqualone was a reduced heart rate. She shifted the same hand and lightly jiggled his jaw line with two fingers and stopped. Silk!

She reached down and rubbed all her fingers over his dusted blonde whiskers feeling the silky satin hair and reached up, curling the fallen blonde locks on his neck around her fingers with a grin and a giggle of his pretty features. His skin was smooth and soft as she rubbed the back of the finger over his cheekbone while admiring his handsome face.

She didn't have a pair of big-ass lips like Jocelyn, but her lips were nice and moisture.

She reached over and tenderly massaged his parted lips feeling warmth from his mouth breathe. Tucker had a pair of small thin pink lips complimenting the tone of coffee tinted skin. She swiftly compared her lips to his lips. She had a thin top lip and a bottom lip making for a full suck action and snorted with amusement.

Her hand reached down and playfully pinched his two nose holes when he suddenly snorted from an open mouth for a gulp of fresh air and as she quickly released the nostrils so poor Tucker could breathe normally.

A second side effect of the pharmaceutical drug methanqualone was a reduced respiration. She placed both palms over his chest and closed her eyelashes while feeling his breathing pattern and checking for any irregulars from his two lungs. She felt heat for his elevated body temperature where a steady method of rising and falling healthy lungs occurred and opened both eyelashes and as her mind was satisfied with his involuntary sleep behavior.

She lifted both hands into the air and bent a face down over his jaw line but can't see his pink tinted tongue with her two eyeballs, since he did not snore during sleeping with a mouth partially closed. Thank goodness! He wasn't chewing a piece of gum when she had stabbed his neck vein. Or she would have been cramming two fingers down his esophagus, jerking out the chewed gum from out of his throat, before a timely death.

She stood upright and reached out, gently lifting one of his hands into the air and cuddled his large appendage into her two smaller palms, examining a set of five neatly trimmed fingernails on Tucker. Each nail bed design displayed an oval-shape cuticle. Cute! She slowly lowered his hand back in place with a smile and a giggle of her belle victory.

Mary Margaret quickly surveyed a pair of naked broad shoulders that ran across a muscular chest of packed abs that tapered down to a fit waist. Growl! All females desired a well-defined male that showed a sign of strength and masculinity to her femininity.

Bully biceps, she liked to call them. She reached out and lightly touched one of the bulges on his arm, quickly getting excited and wet inside her pink panties, wrapping all five finger pads around his bulging hard bicep, where her small hand did not cover his manly muscle. Wow! A well-defined bicep signified a man's ability to take care of things like his woman. She giggled with lust.

She had always heard the man term, washboard stomach. But her eyeballs now understand the wordy description. Tucker had a set of tiny little ripples of skin in the shapes of tiny squares. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, and eight squares ran down from the square-shaped deltoid man breast to his penis, the epitome of a male. She reached over and gently caressed an index finger down to his chiseled chest to the first square, feeling a tip of fine rock hard flesh with a ting of softness. Growl!

She gently rubbed the first square without a reaction from Tucker and then tenderly rubbed two finger pads across a first square, feeling softness, but firmness. She could whack one of her thick medical textbook over his exposed and naked eight-pack abs without him coughing up air.

She looked down to see her flat and pale tinted stomach. Yeah, baby. They could have made some good heated friction during her first sex act.

She stared down at his semi-pale penis which might have seen sunlight for some strange reason, probably when he had fucked a familiar cowgirl in the grassy horse pasture while creating the sun god image. His penis was all crumpled and small like a swiveled up earthworm. She giggled at the silly sight. The penis had a head of plenty angel blonde curly pubic hair. She reached out and held an index finger over the blonde forest, dropping down and gently rubbed a couple of hair strands. Silk! The pubic hair, the skull hair, and the facial hair on Tucker felt like a tiny silk dress.

She lifted the hand up into the air from Tucker and reached down, grabbing and flipped open her girly panties, touching her black pubic hair around the vagina. Coarse! She felt like the rough paw of their twenty-year-old family dog rough paw thinking she had missed an opportunity to fuck a real sun god.

She couldn't see his naked ass, since Mary Margaret could not shift his heavy body to the side, without some trouble.

She spun around to face the footboard and moved away from the sleepy hunky guy, strolling around the end of the bed while thinking about bathing a stinky body from the sweet perfume and the dirty sweat. Her eyeballs caught a side glance of his nakedness and as she stopped with a giggle of her naughty thought.

She pirouetted gracefully to face Tucker and moved ahead, stopping and stood beside the bed frame with a smile of her naughty thoughts, raising and crawled onto the edge of the soft mattress, quietly kneeling beside Tucker with a grin. Then she crawled over his hard abdomen and stood upright on the palms and the toes while not wanting to sit on top of his chest, since Tucker might awaken and disturb his sleep. She smiled. Handsome!

She swished the long curls side to side on the ends of her hair barely tickling his chest without a reaction from Tucker. Then, she leaned down and rested an eardrum onto his naked chest hearing the thump of his heart inside the chest cavity with a grin of happiness.

She sat upright and balanced both kneecaps between his closed legs and an upper body over his chest and a face while pondering a stolen kiss. But that wasn't right, since she had drugged him. So, she reached down and tenderly touched an index finger, slowly moving down, outlining his twin set of ribs and counted them with a grin in silent.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, and twelve ribs were present as her fingers ran along his bumpy rib cage, scooting them down his soft skin and then above his hip bone lightly while toying the skin. Whoa! It was a man's hugging space for her female hands while giggling with her silly thought. This was only moment in her short life when she would touch a male, without the benefit of a preacher-man and wedding band first.

She slowly twirled off the side of the bed, without touching Tucker and stood upright in the lady heels with a grin of naughty thoughts. She felt lust, heated with pleasure, and wet inside her girly panties from the finger probing of fine manly body of Tucker. She reached down and touched the vagina scooping up the white sticky vaginal discharge that had been produced during her pretend roller coaster ride of Tucker with two finger pads, giggling with the naughty deed. She stared at the clear dull liquid that soaked into the fingernails and finger pads with a giggle of her naughty deed and leaned over, spreading the sticky finger pads on top of his stomach which playfully stimulated their non-fuck fest during the night and not together. Mary Margaret giggled with her sick humor. She lifted and flipped up the stinky hand from his body with a smile, exhaling with relief and inhaling with the completion of her belle mission successful to remain a virgin, before her future wedding.

She swung around and moved towards the wardrobe closet, stopping and plucked off each pair of heels, the wet panties, and the bra, exchanging the clothes for a set of new sexy items, a favorite blue and white duck-patterned silk pajamas, without the matching duck-patterned robe, since she was both hot and heated, after her non-fucking ordeal, giggling with her evil deed.

She exited out from the wardrobe closet on a pair of naked feet into the black and yellow tiled bathroom, washed both dirty hands, a sweaty face and then dried a clean face and brushed the teeth. She planned to cuddle inside the settee in the wall corner, reading one of her fairy tale books. She exited out from the bathroom archway and moved ahead a few feet into the room and stopped with an open mouth, back stepping and spun around to face the tiny refrigerator that was built into the entertainment center. She squatted down and opened the door, reaching inside and lifted up a six-pack of cold beer cans that had been kindly provided by Jocelyn for the beau's midnight treat of a success fuck fest.

She stood upright and swung around, marching back into the bathroom, stopping and stood in front of the wash sink, resting the six-pack of beers cans on the edge of the bathroom sink and then removed the closest beer can. She flipped the lid open and emptied, draining the liquid of first beer can down the porcelain sink then reached for a second one, until all six beer cans were empty, giggling with her evil plan.

She discharged the plastic binder down into the garage can and lifted all six empty beer cans into two arms, not worrying about the smell of beer on her silk pajamas. The pajamas could be cleaned from the stinky beer smell which doesn't bother Mary Margaret, since all redneck beaus enjoyed drinking a beer. So, it would be assumed that if she had smelled like beer, then Tucker had celebrated his fuck fest with a first beer. She grinned at her evil deed.

In Tucker's case, he was going to celebrate by drinking all six of the beer cans, after his fuck fest and then passed out into unconscious.

She gently swung around with all the empty beer cans and left the bathroom, moving ahead into the room towards the bed mattress and as her two eyeballs saw a sight of major trouble. She stopped and dropped open a mouth and all the empty beer cans at the same time. His penis was rising into the air by magic. His hands were jerking. His feet were twitching.

Mary Margaret rushed ahead towards the bed mattress and stopped, standing beside Tucker while studying with both eyeballs and all neurons, feeling deep concern. His unconscious body was visually presenting a series of quirky movements within her limited medical knowledge. Her eyeballs studied his face. Tucker exhibited a steady flow of REM sleep coming from a pair of closed his eyelids. She watched a shallow breathing rhythm coming from a sleep pattern with a rising and lowering chest on Tucker and reached down, firmly pressing both palms onto his naked chest while verifying his breathing. Okay! She reached across and rested a hand over his heart organ. Normal beating rate!

She lifted a hand and reached down, examining his left hand, looking for any shaky motion, but she didn't anything, but his penis continued to rise like a batch of the buttermilk biscuits. She back stepped and swung around to face the student desk, where a tall stack of medical textbooks stood to consult with the presented clinical symptoms of the sleeping drug methanqualone and moved ahead a few feet and stopped with a giggle. She twirled around with a smile to face Tucker, whispering for her eardrums, only. "The boy is having a wet dream," she giggled and then slapped both hands over an open mouth with a smile. Tucker was experiencing an erotic dream which was accompanied by the raise of his penis, so he was going to blow an ejaculation of semen into the air which would land on his body and her bed mattress. She giggled at the sexual beauty.

A female also exhibited a wet dream but was too embarrassed to admit it, when she awoke with a wet sticky spot inside a pair of pink panties, which wasn't urine. Mary Margaret had read based on scientific testimonies from a set of test female patients that participated in a series of medical clinical studies that came from the medical reference textbooks on the top of her father's office desk.

She worried that Tucker might awaken from his penis beauty during his angel sleep, reaching over and jerked the bed linens into the air and then over his nakedness, so he would ejaculate all the exploding upward shooting semen into the fabric while stimulating a beautifully fuck fest by him, without Mary Margaret.

She back stepped and squatted, reaching out and grabbed the first beer can, squashing the middle of the thin metal while slightly bending it with both hands like Tucker would do after a fuck fest with a giggle. She reached out with a smile and planted the smushed beer can number one on the floor with a giggle, reaching over and grabbed, bending a beer can number two, reaching up and place it on top of the polished nightstand. Then, she continued to bend and plant three other beer cans, resting in a creative pose over the floor and held the sixth beer can in a hand. She stood upright and moved ahead, stopping and stood beside Tucker with a smile, gently lifting and poured two tiny drops of beer over his lips like he had drunk the cold beverage but she didn't drown him with the liquid as the beer drops rolled to the left over a pair of parted lips. He slept like a prince god without awaking, since the drug worked brilliantly on his manly toughness.

She lifted upright the empty beer can with a giggle and placed it on top of nightstand with her plotted movie setting show for tomorrow morning, the day after the fuck fest for any spying eyebrows.

Mary Margaret back stepped from the bed mattress and her girly created Frankenstein with a smile as she eyeballed the new fairy tale theater for the Saturday performance with a giggle.

Tucker was asleep in her bed without Mary Margaret, since she was sitting perfectly fit and fine, without him too. He was naked. She was not. The beer cans, as evidence of his success, was haphazardly scattered around her bedroom.

She spun around to face the entrance door, where her dress rested in a colored puddle of pretty water of more physical sexual evidence, since Tucker was in a hurry to fuck her which was not far from the truth.

She twirled around with a smile and moved ahead towards the end of the bed, where the white lacey bedcover hung down from the bed mattress with a giggle, skipping ahead towards the settee in the wall corner, catching and dragging the bedcover over the flat colorful fabric seat. She spun around and sat down on top of the cool fabric, reaching over and lifted up a romantic novel from the book shelf and into her eyeballs, hoping that she might experience her first orgasm too, since she felt really heatedly horny at the moment. She looked up with a smile to see the sleeping beastie one more time with a whisper, "Sweet dreams, Sun-god."

06:20 p.m.

Ballroom location

Interior setting

Fairy tale of Chloe and her beau Stan

She tapped one foot at a time while sitting on the edge of a Chippendale loveseat which was made of yellow fabric with a set of pink flowers that was attached to a set of dark green leaves and stems inside the fabric of an eight-legged mahogany carved ball and claw table feet. The three individual hard wooden made harp-shaped back rests dug an imprint into both her naked shoulders. The pattern of the sofa matched her antebellum dress of pale apricot yellowish which was dotted with an assortment of large pink roses with three small tiers of white lace that ran around the edge of the skirt, since pink was the color of a sweet innocent virgin girl.

Trinity and Mary Margaret had been properly picked up by two handsome beaus, especially the beau with the bald mound. He was so cute.

Chloe had wished that he had picked her.

But she impatiently waited and heard a new pair of cowboy boots that was stomping down the Dogtrot Hall breezeway really fast. Jocelyn was not a very good "hostess with the mostess" while rushing the beau's choice. Chloe continued to steadily tap a right foot and then a left foot with impatience of a fucking beau. Then, Jocelyn and the new beau appeared and stood inside the doorway for less than a half a second.

He unclenched an arm from Jocelyn and moved ahead with a tall body straight towards Chloe. He wore a pair of polished but worn rich brown lizard-skinned cowboy boots, a head of curly light brown hair that was kissed by blonde sun lights. He possessed a crooked nose, a set of big delicious thick lips, and a pair of almond-shaped eye sockets coupled with blue pupils. He glowed in a tone of fair pale colored face, wearing a steel blue short-sleeved T-shirt, without any definition of curved sculptured muscles like the two previous beaus. The blue shirt clashed with a pair of the dark blue jeans. He slowed the pace and stopped, standing in front of Chloe, reaching out, grabbing her forehead and jerked Chloe upright into a standing pose on a pair of summer sandals from the sofa cushion. He leaned down with a grin and a sour breath into her face, "Me and you, darling!" He talked fast for a cowboy with a loud snort and spun around, reaching out, dragging her behind his ass towards the open archway, passing Jocelyn with a grin, "Chow, Jocelyn!"

Chloe could see the shock and concern that was etched on the face of Jocelyn and said with a tart smile. "I'm okay, girl best," she waved a good bye signal with a free hand. He pulled Chloe into the cold breezeway.

They quickly moved ahead towards the front porch, passing the belle parlor room.

She pointed into the room with a smile. "The staircase is a faster way into the belle wing."

He stared ahead into the darkness on the front porch with a sour frown. "Naw! Some one likes to fuck around with the steps on the staircase that pisses me off."

She frowned with confusion. "How do you know about our staircase?"

"I know sex."

"The staircase is haunted."

"And my dick is little."

She smiled. "It'd be fun to truly find out."

"You'll truly find out by fucking me."

They dashed around the northern side of the porch, around the west corner, and then turned to face the grand staircase.

He led and charged up the stairs with a grunt, "Where is your room?"

"I am on the second level, the first door on the left," Chloe smiled.

He stopped on the second level at the first door, reaching out and jerked the knob open, entering first in silence. She exhaled with a puff of annoyance and followed behind his back spine.

Private bedroom setting of Chloe

She twirled around after closing the door with a smile and a giggle for her beau attention and her belle compliment. He viciously spun around and attacked Chloe, violently ripping off the three delicate satin ribbons that held the dress around her two breasts with a pair of two manly hands with a grin and an evil smirk. She stood in a panty throng, cooling both naked nipples in the cold air of her private bedroom.

He dropped down the dress and spun around, moving towards the bed mattress with a smile. "Get naked. Fetch me a beer, before we fuck."

She smiled with a nod without moving. "I like to role play. Do you..."

He twirled around with a grunt and stomped ahead towards the baby refrigerator that was built underneath the entertainment center, stopping and squatted down and opened the door. He reached inside and grabbed two cold beer bottles in each hand, standing upright and spun around, moving away from the refrigerator. He left the refrigerator door open and strolled towards the bed, stopping and sat one beer on top of the night stand. He cracked open the lid of the second one, tilting back a head, inhaling half the liquid. He released the bottle down from lips with a loud burp and a chuckle. "Yeah, I like to role play. You are my whore. I am the pimp."

"Well, how about I am a princess, who needs rescuing? You can be my prince who comes to my rescue." She smiled with a nod at his back spine.

He reached over and rested the beer bottle on top of the nightstand while staining the ancient valuable mahogany wood with the sweaty water and spun around to face Chloe, pulling off the shirt, tossing it at the end of the bed and then ripped off a boot one at a time. He tossed both boots up and down into the middle of the wooden floor with a set of two loud thuds. He removed the blue jeans, throwing the item on top of the shirt at the end of the bed with a grin at her. He dropped down the white boxer shorts, tossing the item on top of the jeans with a chuckle, spinning around his nakedness, leaping onto the top of the bedcover with a single yellow rose that was displayed on top of her pillow top.

He reached over and collected, flinging the rose down to the floor without a vocal explanation, twisting a naked body around and sat down a lily-white asshole on top of her bedcover, without removing it or resting on top of the freshly laundered pink satin sheets and stared at the active television program with a stern face, "Yeah, you are the princess whore. I am the prince pimp."

She swung around with a giggle and moved ahead into the wardrobe closet, stopping to change into her new costume and the role play as a princess whore with a giggle of fun.

He yelled on top of the mattress. "Where's my vaginal playground? Come out kitty, kitty! Time for me to fuck. Then, you suck me dry, foxy!"

She dressed in the new costume and pranced out from the wardrobe closet with a smile, wearing a cute little black leather bustier over her two small breasts that fell down below a belly button with a front zipper for her new beau. A decorative silver studded black leather collar suffocated around her neck and a pair of black lace panties over her vagina. A set of black high heeled bedroom slippers with a single black feathered pom-pom covered both of her naked feet. She didn't have time to visit a local clothing store for a pair of real spiked heels.

She carried a long black leather whip in a folded fist, dragging the tail over the wooden floor.

He kneecapped on top of the mattress in his full nakedness with a mouth drool of a smile at her costume. "About time, I like the leather whip. Does it work?"

She stopped and stood in front of the bed and Stan slapping a whip against the leg and then straight up towards the ceiling as the leather whip danced like a snake over the wood and flew like a bird into the air, and then snapped like a firecracker. The tail of the whip hit the floor with a loud plop as she smiled with her evil thoughts.

He reached over for her...naw...her whip, snatching it out from her hand. She lifted and flipped off the pair of sexy house slippers and then seductively crawled onto the bedcover with a sneer like a she-wolf. He scooted to the side of the bed out of her way while examining her...naw...her whip with a pair of eyeballs and a smirk.

She rested down on top of the pillow with a straight body on the top of the bedcover with both legs spread apart, pushing her vagina into the air for penetration, since she wasn't a true virgin. He dropped the whip to the side and leaned over, holding a body over her body, reaching down and unzipped the leather bustier with a hand and a smile into her face. He reached down and ripped off her panties off with a set of rushed fingers, flinging the clothing item down to the floor. Then, he leaned a body sideways on her right side, aiming a full blown penis directly into her vagina with a left hand.

She stared with a sour frown at his wrinkled up penis. "Hey! Where's my foreplay, dude?"

"No time," he leaned down and viciously performed a thrust with an elongated dick into her vagina with great force and great pain.

"Aarrgh!" She screamed from shock.

He lifted up a sour face and an upper body from her breasts with a sour frown. "You're a whore."

She gulped down the pussy pain with a sweet smile, "A southern belle."

He reached down and thrust two thick man-fingers into her wet and stretched out worn vagina as she felt no pain really. She was not really a pure hundred percent virgin from all her nightly and daily fun with a set of four cowboys in the cow town Olando, where her father owned and operated a cattle ranch. Stan continued to thrust in and out the thick fingers with a sour frown. She could feel some arousal coupled with some vagina pain from the big olf. He continued to finger fuck her vagina with more force and a confused brow. "You're a fucking whore. I can finger fuck you all night long, because your pussy is worn out like a car belt."

She felt his thrusts with a giggle. "I call my precious vagina, a flower."

"Your vagina is stretched out like you have fucked some twenty guys in one night like a gawd dawn whore."

"I'm aroused making my flower open for only you, big boy," she winked like a real whore, not a southern belle.

"Fucking whore!" He removed the fingers and leaned over a face on top of her breasts with an evil grin, ramming his elongated dick into her delicate vagina.

"Aarrgh!" She screamed in surprise.

"Not loud enough, whore!" He pulled out the dick and stared into her eyeballs, ramming his dick a second time into her pussy with her pain and his arousal.

"Hey!" She gasped in pain.

He lifted up a distorted face and pulled out the leather strip from the wooden handle of the whip, cutting the fine soft leather with a pocket knife. The knife was carried inside his blue jeans that rested on the edge of her bed. He sliced the leather by one-fourth and reached down, quickly tying both her wrist bones with a thin piece, wrapping it around and around, until she couldn't break apart her arms. He gift-wrapped a thin piece of leather around her parted lips while allowing oxygen breaths but no screams with a chuckle.

She kicked at him with all twenty gray-painted fingernails and toe nails, without avail. He slammed a pair of two meaty legs over her two thin thighs, pinning both her legs down to the bed linens. He dropped down both biceps over her collar bone, catching both her waving arms while pinning them to her side. He growled. "You like to role play. I am master. You are my slave."

He licked a beer-breathe tongue all over her face going from top down to the bottom inside her vagina as he moaned in filthy lust and then moved back up, roughly kissing his lips to her vagina discharge.

Chloe struggled to get out of the whip leather strips which were wrapped around both lips without success, not the two wrist bones. He shifted the dick in and out, ramming her vagina with a set of violent pain. She screamed, "Stop!"

"I paid for this, whore. I get my money's worth." He reached down and grabbed her waistline, flipping tiny Chloe up into the air and landed her body back down onto her kneecaps, spreading open her butt cheeks with two hands and viciously licked her ass with a tongue. Then, he reached down and grabbed her waistline for a second, flipping her tiny body into the air and landed Chloe back down onto a back spine, jabbing a nasty tongue down into her open mouth, slobbering a set of tongue drool over all her lips. She kicked and punched with the set of tied wrists as he kissed her lips with a laugh.

She screamed. "Ugh!"

He lifted up a distorted face with a frown. "Not loud enough, whore! You get punished now," he forcefully plowed a dick down into her vagina, sawing his penis back and forth like a woodman cutting down a tree with a loud laugh and stopped, jerking out the penis. He reached down and grabbed her waistline, flipping her tiny body into the air and landed her on both the kneecaps, ramming a dick into her anus.

"Hey!" She grunted.

He withdrew the penis from her anus. "Hold still, whore!" He reached down and rubbed her ass with both naked hands and leaned down, licking her hairy butthole with a tongue and lifted upright an upper body and a smile, ramming his penis back into her anus again with a laugh.

Her anus felt dry and painful. She swiftly wiggled sideways, making him withdraw the penis and flipped around to face him on both wrist bones, "Hey, asshole."

"Hey, whore," he chuckled.

"I'm not a whore."

"You're not a virgin." He reached down and grabbed her waistline, lifting her into the air, turning Chloe to face the headboard of the bed, striking the dick tip into her pussy.

"Aarrgh!" She screamed with pain.

He leaned down into her eardrum with a sour frown. "Your screams are not loud enough, whore," he withdrew out and then quickly rammed the dick into her vagina again with an evil smirk.

"Aarrgh!" She screamed with sobs and wet tears, feeling weak pleasure from the pain. He continued to seesaw a big dick back and forth on his kneecaps. She felt some arousal and some pain. He shoved her face and her shoulders down towards the bedcovers, ramming a dick like a jack hammer back and forth into her pussy. She screamed in pain. "Aarrgh!" Her body enjoyed the fuck. Her teeth were clenched. Her hands folded into fists of pain. He jerked the dick out and reached down, grabbing her waistline, flipping her tiny body into the air and landed her on both kneecaps, thrusting into her vagina. Chloe ate the bedspread cover, draping a face down into the fabric while panting heavy for air after each thrust in the doggie style sex pose. He closed both eyelids and tossed back a skull in pleasure and lust, swiftly thrusting in and out fast then faster and then fastest. "Aarrgh!" She screamed in pain and lust, feeling awesome arousal and pain. He pulled out the dick and reached down, grabbing her waistline and flipped Chloe into the air and landed her flat down on a back spine, shoving his dick down into her screaming mouth. She choked, mouth spat salvia, and hollered all at the same time, "Ugh..."

He laughed. "I want more. Ride me, bitch!" He reached down and grabbed her waistline, lifting Chloe up from the bed mattress into the air, sliding his back spine down over the wet bed linens with a grin and a protruded dick straight up into the air. He twisted Chloe around and jerked open both her legs at the center of her vagina, slamming the girl down on top of his elongated dick with a laugh. She cried out in pain and sobs of tears. He cupped both hands underneath each one of her armpits and then forcefully rode her body up and down on his dick. Next, he quickly exploded a batch of his penis sperm into her vagina. She felt hot liquid shoot up into my vagina and then slowly poured back down over the pubic hair towards both of the inner thighs. He shuffled Chloe her from his body while tossing the girl to the side as he continued rest on his back spine and on top with his big elongated red and swallow penis that shot out more bubbles of sperm. The bubbles sizzled up in the air waves with a grin. "Suck me dry, whore!"

She didn't move as both wrist bones were tied and posed on both kneecaps. She whined. "My hands are tied."

"Suck me, whore!" He huffed with a grin of sour breath. She flipped a body sideway to the side and rested on the edge of the soft mattress and away from the beau-brute male, closing both eyelashes for rest and relief and as her wrist bones were still tied. He flipped to the opposite side of the mattress and slipped off the bed frame, moving ahead towards the tiny refrigerator underneath the built-in entertainment center for another bottle of beer and stopped, squatting down in front of the door. He reached out and opened the door, grabbing a beer and, screwed off the cap, lifting and drunk half the contents, dropping the bottle from the lips with a loud burp. He slowly stood and swung a naked body towards the bathroom archway with a set of loud burps, entering into the room without closing the door.

Chloe exhaled with a puff of great pain and some pleasure from her first beau fuck night at Antebellum House.

"I can fuck a long time like this, whore," he exited the bathroom and moved ahead while sucking on a lighted and smelly marijuana joint and removed the object with a smile, blowing out the white smoke into the clean air. "The pot keeps my dick erect for hours and hours and hours..."

She flipped over to the opposite side to see Stan on top of both kneecaps with a gasp of alarm. He stopped and spun around, lounging a lazy ass at the edge of the entertainment center while inhaling a joint of pot in one hand and a beer bottle in the other and removed the object with a smoke. He blew out a thin veil of white smoke through the lips and the nostrils and reached over to the teacup on the top of the entertainment center, tapping the dripping pot ash into the delicate ceramic.

She gasped. "Pot! No drugs are allowed here at Antebellum House. I will..."

He placed the pot joint into the lips and inhaled, held the smoke with a smile, steaming out white with a chuckle. "I know that, whore. Don't be a tattle-tailer too!" He twisted the nakedness and entered the bathroom again with a sour frown.

Chloe sat upright on both kneecaps and lifted upright both arms, stretching out the tight leather straps between the wrist bones while finding a very tiny horizontal hole. She ran three finger pads from a hand while struggling free both of her hands. Then the leather strap dropped down, falling down onto the bedcover. She wiggled a hand free and slid down off the mattress, standing upright with a gasp.

Stan returned back into the bedroom from the bathroom with a goofy smile of pot feeling without the pot joint and the bottle of beer and as his wiggling elongated dick rotated side to side coming from the puffs of the marijuana joint. He witnessed Chloe who was hustling away from his capture with a laugh. "Ah! My prey is loose." She swiftly raced ahead towards the door to escape from the bed mattress. He swiftly dashed towards Chloe with a grin and reached out with a hand, grabbing and snatched her arm, hugging the girl into his naked chest with a laugh into her eardrum, lifting her effortlessly into the air and moved ahead to a naked spot on the bedroom wall, slamming her back spine against the peach colored paint. Chloe gasped in alarm and slowly produced drops of red blood from the lips and the nostrils seeing double vision through the eyeballs, feeling dizzy inside the neurons. He reached down with a one hand and slipped apart both her kneecaps, planting a dick inside her pelvis while spreading out her legs with a grunt, "It is sex time, whore!" She looked down with a pair of blurry eyeballs to see a knobby apparatus that covered his elongated penis. He leaned over with a tongue of bad breathing into her face with a grin, "I like to get an extra boost with my sex thrust into your pussy, whore."

"No!" She screamed and struggled side to side against the wall from fear with the object that surrounded his penis. He forcefully thrust a penis with a single punch into her vagina. Chloe felt shattering pain with every punch of the wooden knob that surrounded his dick that hurt beyond her nerves and her neurons. He thrust inside and outside her vagina. "I..." continued to fight with a set of sobs and tears with the brute against the wall paint.

He growled. "Shut it, whore!"

"I..." continued to fight with a set of sobs and tears with the brute against the wall. He reached over and slammed an elbow into her rib cage to hold Chloe against the wall. She whined with a sissy moan. "Ugh..."

"I am a pimp. You are bad girl, whore," he leaned down and roughly kissed both his lips and his teeth onto her mouth, jerking one of her leg around his waist with a grin. "I am making us some great sex friction." He rammed an elongated dick with the knobby wooden apparatus into her vagina while slamming her back spine against the cool paint, holding her ass with his cupped palm. Both her legs were wrapped around his fit waist. He grunted with a sneer into her face. "You're tight and right at this love angle, bitch. But I'll make you lose and goose for my final orgasm," He thrust in and out with a set of loud grunts and heavy breathes.

She screamed in fear and pain. "No!" She was exhausted both mentally and physically while bowing a chin down into a chest and as both her arms waved in the air.

He laughed with the ejaculation and slowly thrust the penis in and out while forcing more of his sperm out from a dick into her wet vagina. Then he stopped the thrust while breathing heavy with a body of heavy smelly sex sweaty and gently lifted the armpits of Chloe and cuddled her into a chest. Both her legs continued to drape around his hips. He leaned over and whispered with a grin down into her crying face. "We are almost done, whore."

"I...exhausted..." from relieve and as she closed both eyelashes. She leaned into his shoulder while feeling pain and exhaustion. He back stepped from the wall paint and slowly spun around to face the bed frame, stopping and stood in front of the messy bed cover. He reached down and rested Chloe over the soft bed linens, reaching out and shifted both her arms down sideways, then shuffling the arms up and down in two opposite different directions with a chuckle.

She continued to rest on top of the bed without movement and exhaled with a deep puff of exhaustion with a soft whisper, "What...doing?"

He continued to rotate both arms and legs on Chloe side to side over the messy bedcover with a grin, "I am finding the right body pose for clicking a memory..."

"No cell phones!"

He continued to shuffle both the arms and the legs of Chloe up and down over the messy bedroom with a chuckle of amusement. "I'm not using my mobile cell, whore. I use all my memory cells. You're cute like a little dolly and limber like a gymnastic and fun. I can't wait to come back, whore," he dropped all her limbs down to the bedcovers and reached over, lifting up on top of the bed mattress with Chloe, crawling on top of her naked body and stopped, leaning a face over her breasts with a grin. Then he sat back on both kneecaps and leaned over, slamming down both folded fists onto each side above her tits with a chuckle. Chloe experienced a heart attack first while panting in fear with a heavy breathes of fright. She inhaled and then exhaled short puffs of oxygen before she suffocated to death inside her own bed mattress of her bedroom, closing her eyelashes at the beau. He sat back on both kneecaps and lifted both folded fists in the air with a smile, shifting an upper body and both fists back down towards her nakedness like he was going to slap her face. She cried out loud with wet tears of fear, "No!"

He sat back onto both kneecaps and continued to rock back and forth, shaking both folded fists into the air, staring down with a laughing smile at Chloe, "Ho, ho, ho! Hee, hee, hee! Your naked body jumped three inches from the bed like a puppet with a set of invisible strings. That was fun for me and funny for you," he stopped the rock motion with a smile. "Did you feel that jolt like a cup of bad moonshine? Boom! I'll bring some wicked moonshine next time for our more fucking fun on next Friday night. The next time, you ride my dick right. Then right before I explode, I want you to pop my chest with your two fists like I did next to your tits on the bed. Get that, whore! Then, it'll give me a damn double ejaculation, whore." He leaned down and roughly kisses her lips with both the hard teeth enamel and a rough tongue, lifting upright a torso with a big grin down at Chloe with a wink and slide off her body, leaping off the bed and swung around to face the door. He reached down and collected each piece of clothing while dressing and moved ahead to the closed archway.

She continued to close her eyelashes and as her body ached in pain and exhaustion. She exhaled with a sissy moan. "I can't believe that you're actually leaving me," she did not move from the wet bedcover that held received a set of multiple explosions of lusty dirty sex juice from both her and him. She reached down and tenderly rubbed her precious vagina with a set of two fingers, feeling additional hot liquid pump out from the vagina walls in thick format, lifting an index finger into the face to see red blood.

He continued to move ahead while zipping up the blue jeans with a smile towards the locked door and stopped, reaching out and unlatched the keyhole with a smile and a yell, "It is time for me to scoot, to boot. I got another whore to fuck before midnight," grunting.

"Or you turn into a monster," she whispered for her eardrums, only while feeling a set of mixed emotions of both sadness and happiness and as her body rested like a zombie person over the ruined bedcover that was also covered in her vaginal red blood. Her leather bustier was opened up and exposed both naked breasts and as she continued to wear the silver studded black leather collar around the throat that protected the esophagus from being choked by a pair of his man-sized hands.

He reached out and grabbed the door knob with a smile. "Next Friday night, you shout out my name, Stan, the man, when I fuck you good, whore. Bye, whore!" He opened bedroom door and exited her bedroom with a smile and a whistle, moving down the staircase towards the waiting limousine that would tarry him back to the university for the end of the night.

The door slowed closed and locked for protection.

She closed both eyelashes in sleep and sadness while wishing that she could leave Antebellum House foreverly.

06:31 p.m.

Ballroom location

Interior setting

Fairy tale of Emma and her beau Stan

Emma sat inside an ugly floral sofa that belonged inside a clown museum, where a peachy-beige background splattered with hundreds of hand-sized flowers of red, yellow, blue, pink, orange, and blue while tickling a set of green curvy leaves around each other like a batch of gay plants. The busy sofa overpowered her pretty antebellum dress of pink rayon that was decorated with fourteen rows of tiny half-an-inch pink ruffles, coming down from the velvet pink belted waist, puddling over the floor.

The skirt expanded almost towards both edges of the sofa armrests as she wore a set of three crinolines that widened the pink fabric, making her look like a pretty pink princess.

She straightened a set of pearls around the forehead with a gloved hand which was attached to her curled ponytail in the rear of the skull. Then, she double-checked each pearl earring, then the pearl choker around a swan neck, making certain they were pretty like her. She reached up and yanked each glove back to the elbow with a smile at the other nervous belles, waiting on their beau, too.

Chloe left the ballroom with a nice-looking but ill-mannered beau.

Emma heard a set of cowboy boots march over the wooden Dogtrot breezeway where the new beau was escorted by Jocelyn. She stared at the empty archway, hoping this was her beau.

They appeared and stood inside the archway with a smile.

He wore a smile of good teeth, a nicely suntanned face and body, standing up at six feet and three inches while displaying a cropped head of dark auburn curly hair, wearing a red colored T-shirt which was outlined in a set of rippled muscles, a pair of faded blue jeans that showed off a pair of narrow hips with a red colored alligator belt, and a pair of red, white, and blue flames on red alligator cowboy boots.

Jocelyn held onto the arm of the new beau with a smile. "Beau, meet our lovely belles. Go and find your girl!"

The beau swiftly charged towards the side wall, where a set of three sofas contained only two belles that held a smiling queen-sized Tyleigh and a beautiful queen-sized Bethel. He slowly toured each body, turning to the side, studying pretty Naomi, lovely Peyton, and cute Zoey. Then, he swiftly moved away from the second section of sofas and swung to face Emma with a smile. She smiled back at him. He advanced ahead to her sofa and stopped, holding out an arm for a proper belle escort. Emma leaped from the sofa and hit his body with a giggle. He quickly back stepped from her attacked and dropped down the arm in stunned surprised of her non-belle behavior. Next, he gingerly lifted up and extended the arm again like a proper southern beau.

Emma displayed a blush in pink hue and gently reached out, touching his arm with a nod.

They swung around to face the open archway.

Emma waddled without tripping over the long dress hem in the pair of four inches of summer sandals, turning with a smile to see his nose profile. "I'm Emma."

"Stan." He stared at the open archway and moved pass Jocelyn with a smile and nod.

Jocelyn smiled at the nose profile of Emma and Stan, the man. "Have lots of fun, tonight, kids!"

They moved through the archway and left the ballroom, turning to face the front porch, slowly moving down the cool breezeway.

Her hand was wrapped loosely around his naked arm and as she smiled at his nose profile. "Do I know your daddy?"

"Maybe," he continued to move ahead and passed the library, staring with a smile into the darkness of the front porch.

She giggled into his nose profile. "Do I know your mama?"

"Maybe," he continued to move ahead and passed the belle parlor room. They slowly turned to the side and strolled in front of the belle parlor room windows on the front porch, strolling towards her bedroom inside the belle wing.

She continued to hold his arm and stared at his nose profile with a smile. "Do you live here in Bama?"

"Maybe," he continued to stroll ahead and turned, moving down the side of the main building, staring with a smile into the darkness of the night.

She grinned at his nose profile. "You have a southern accent. So, do you live in a different southern state?"

"Maybe," he continued to move ahead and stared with a smile into the darkness of the night.

"I like you, Stan. Do you like me?"

"Maybe," he stopped and turned to face a double wide open archway that displayed a tall grand staircase with a smile.

She reached down and gathered, jerking the fabric of the dress hem and showed off her a pair of cute naked legs, slowly climbing onto the first step of the staircase with a puzzled brow. "Maybe! Do you like me or not? I found that you are very secretive, Stan."

He exhaled with a puff of annoyance and continued to climb the staircase of six stories while looking down at each step with a confused brow. "Emma, I understand that you and I are not supposed to be discussing our private lives with each other for certain reasons. Am I wrong?"

"No." She gasped with alarm without tripping over the dress or the sandals, pointing at the private bedroom on the side, since she had not remembered. There was to be no contact information exchange, only sex exchange. So, she would have to be satisfied with that.

Private bedroom of Emma and Stan

He stopped on the staircase and released her arm, reaching out and opened the door for the beau with a smile and a nod in silence. She pranced inside with a smile and gracefully shifted towards the entertainment center, elegantly swinging around in excitement and beauty, since she was worth two hundred dollars of beauty, where Jocelyn had collected the money on the front porch a few minutes ago.

He moved ahead and stopped, standing in front of the cute bedcover, reaching out and partially folded the bedcover away from the headboard while exposing a set of matching set of pink satin sheets on the two twin pillows for the evening fuck fest. She continued to stand in front of the entertainment center and watched him with a giggle and then a growl for some immediate jungle play time with her beau. He reached out and tenderly rubbed the soft bed linens between the fingers with a smile and a nod. "This bedroom arrangement displays a nice bed style. Your pink ruffles match your pink dress too. Did you plot that just for me?" He spun around with a wink to see her.

She produced a blush in hot pink color while thinking about their upcoming first of ten fuck fests each Friday night to raise money to save Antebellum House and shrugged a bare honey tinted collar bone with angel innocence, since she was an 'earth' angle of teen innocent. Emma slowly reached down and plucked off an elbow glove like a professional stripper, dropping the item down to the floor with a giggle and a grin of teenly innocence. He continued to stand at the bed frame and reached out, touching the cherry tinted wooden bed posts that complimented the pink hue of the bed linens. She gracefully removed the other elbow glove and tossed the item onto the flooring with a giggle and a grin again. "I love pink. My favorite color..." He spun around with a smile and slowly advanced to her with a nod in silence. She stepped out of one of the summer sandals and gently scooted the item across the floor from her body. He stopped and squatted down, reaching out and grabbed, lifting the sandal into a face with a smile. "An excellent shoe designer and the style of your summer sandals are cute, to boot. I like the color that you had chosen for your dressing assemble, a soft baby pink. The coloring matches your honey blonde hair and skin tone perfectly like a painted portrait."

She lifted up a leg for him to see each naked leg and reached down, nosily dropping off the other designer sandal from a naked foot, reaching up and jerked off the pink velvet belt while disturbing the creation of a pretty antebellum dress.

Stan stood upright with a wink and a smile, moving closer to her, stopping and stood in front of Emma, reaching out and touched the rows of pink ruffles on the skirt with one hand while holding her sandal in the cupped palm with a grin in silence. She giggled with a smile. "Thank you, Stan!"

He rubbed two fingers over the soft ruffles with a smile at the long dress, staring at the matching sandal and then the matching dress numerous times. "Your antebellum dress matches beautifully the fabric on the sandal also. It is an exact perfect shade of pink."

"The sandals were dyed that specific color, candy pinky-pink." I nodded with a giggle.

He continued to rub the ruffles with a smile and a nod. "Brilliant! Your belle assembly is lovely, attractive while complimenting you and the entire bedroom."

I smiled. "Thank you, Stan!" Stan continued to rub the dress and wore his T-shirt and a set of rippling of muscles that outlined a group of taunt deltoids biceps down to the triceps and further down to eight-packed abs that came from the morning and afternoon workouts. He continued to wear the pair of faded jeans and a set of cowboy boots. She dropped the neckline of the dress and exposed a pair of honey colored naked breasts, going all the way down to her throng that only covered her honey tinted body and as her eyelashes flirted at his eyelids like she was an innocent virgin. She was an innocent teen virgin.

He released the dress and shoe as the shoe dropped down with a loud boom onto the wooden floor. He looked up with a smile. "You're a lovely sight for eyes, Emma." She reached back and pulled off the golden tinted hair band that held the ponytail of matching honey golden hair. He reached out and extended an open palm for the item. She reached out and gently placed the gold band down into his palm with a giggle while continuing to undress the other jewelry pieces from a body. She removed and placed each pink pearl gem stone item into his open palm as he examined each jewelry item with a smile. Emma removed the pink pearl choker and placed into both palms with the other jewelry items with a grin. He touched and examined the delicate texture of the smooth pink colored pearls. Her loose hair fell over a collar bone and down to the waistline and as a pair of naked nipples played a set of peek-a-boo through the thick strands of my golden honey hair.

He touched with a smile each gem stone. "Even all your gems match your furnishings and your clothes, you are all colored-coded, Emma."

She nodded in both curls and breasts with a grin from excitement and anticipation of their first of ten "fuck fests" at him. "Yes, I am."

He looked up with a smile to see Emma and leaned over, cautiously reaching around her semi-naked body, gently placing each piece of pink pearl jewelry on either side of her arms. Then, he carefully reached out and moved each cable line away from the new seventy inched plasma television away from the entanglement of cords that was located behind her back spine without tickling her rear nakedness.

She felt both his arms and his hands maneuver around her body while standing completely honey colored nude for a picking, a plucking, and finally a fucking. She formed a pout of the lips for her first ever boy-kiss of the first of ten Friday evening of beau-belle fucks. He slid backward from Emma without any single hand flirt and looked down at her pink puffy antebellum dress that gathered around her pair of naked feet. Emma followed his eyelids to see her naked feet too. She couldn't fuck with the dress on, so she lifted a foot into the air and then the other foot, moving out of the heap of pink with a giggle. He squatted down and gathered a pile of pink fabric swiftly standing and slowly pondering where to dump the lump of rayon. She reached down and shifted off the girly throng as it landed on top of the floor. She reached over and rubbed her vagina with a smile and a wink at his face. "This is my flower that is ready for a picking, a pruning, or a plucking by you, Stan," she formed a put of the lips for her first ever boy-kiss with the big hint, since Stan must be one of these dense cowboys that Chloe had warned all the beaus about during the daily and nightly belle masturbation fuck sessions inside the ballroom. She sweetly encouraged him to begin their first of ten "Fuck Fests" where the term had been coined by Chloe, since the night was not holding for the sex show.

"That is a nice name." He turned and scanned the closed wardrobe closet, then the closed bathroom door, then the dirty wooden floor, and finally the brown fake leather settee.

The settee like the numerous pieces of wood or chrome or marble furniture elegantly clashed with the pink bedcover inside the bedroom which was like all other belle bedrooms throughout Antebellum House. He continued to turn and scan the contents of the room with a puzzled brow. There was a freckle-looking fake beige granite armoire which held her clothes and a black painted-metal office desk with a slender black laptop that accessed all academic on-line college classes from Birmingham University.

Emma desired a kiss, a touch, or an attack from Stan to start the nightly love lust.

He continued to scan the room with a puzzled brow and held the pink dress in both arms. "I have never understood why all the furniture pieces do not match. This is a historical building in Alabama with some nicely fine furnishings along with modern trashy junk," He spun around to see her with a smile. "Do you know the answer, Emma?"

"No," she moved ahead with a puff of frustration and scooted around his stationary tallness, strolling in total nakedness towards the bed frame with the set of pink tinted bed linens, stopping, standing in front of the bed mattress. She reached over and violently ripped off the pretty pink bedcover, jerking off the top bed linen also as both items dropped over the edge of the bed and the hit the floor. She reached down and grabbed the pink rose from the pillow with a smile, swinging around to see his back spine with a confused brown in silence.

Stan was moving the furniture around her room, stealing the desk chair out from the desk table, rolling it across the wood and planted the chair in front of the closed doors of the big entertainment center. He moved around the chair and stopped, standing in front of the closed door, opening up the middle cabinet which revealed a seventy inched plasma television. He reached out and parted the two side cabinets which revealed her electronic computer game box of virtual electronic fun activities, back stepping and sat down an ass in the desk chair. He lifted a leg into the air and jerked off one cowboy boot and then duplicated the motion, placing both boots on the side of the chair. He wore a pair of white colored socks, a tight red shirt, and a pair of faded jeans with a smile, leaning a face, two hands, and a torso towards the entertainment center, snatching up the keyboard that was physically attached to the plasma screen with a nod in silence. Emma would play an electronic card game while listening to the boring on-line college educational sessions in her room at night, so the electronic game box was operational and functional. He pulled out the third nested drawer from entertainment center that held her dressing clothes and propped the both foot soles onto the edge of the thick wood which acted like a foot stool to hold the keyboard on top of a pair of kneecaps. Then the room filled with a set of new electronic sounds of beep, ping, and ding which began the new activation sequence of a new electronic game on the television screen.

Emma continued to stand beside the bed with the rose with a deep sigh of frustration, confusion, and finally fighting fury and moved ahead with a sour frown, since this beau was really stupid about a kiss, a fuck, and the sex thing. She stopped at his nose profile and stood in place, parting the legs and tossed back a skull, closing the eyelashes, dreaming of their first of ten "Fuck Fests."

She lifted up and slowly dragged the set of soft petals of the flower down the crown of her forehead, between the two eye sockets, down the nose tip, down the parted lips, down to the chin and finally stopped between the breasts which tickled her skin with a giggle of the soft sensation. She moved the rose down between the ribs, down to the waist, down to the belly button, and finally wiggled the soft petals of the rose into the honey colored pubic hairs, saying with a smile, "Stan..."

He continued to play with two eyeballs, two eardrums, two hands, and ten finger pads on her electronic computer game box, whispering up into her eardrums. "Shh! I got a secret." She squatted down with a smile and leaned over into his nose profile in silence. He continued to play an intergalactic space ship war game as commander of the warship with a smile in silence and as the game sounded with a set of soft beeps and loud whistles.

"Tell, tell!" She smiled with excited and lusty anticipation.

He punched the guiding stick side to side on the computer keyboard while flying a space ship into the moon. The space ship exploded into an array of prettily red, blue, and yellow plumes of smoke. "I'll tell you, but it's a secret."

"Tell, tell!" She leaned closer into his eardrum with a smile of excitement and lusty anticipation of her first fuck with a boy.

"I'll tell you, but you must promise to keep it a secret." He wiggled the joy stick side to side with a chuckle and blasted a third enemy alien ship on the television screen.

"Tell, tell!" She leaned into his cheekbone while desiring to kiss his pretty face.

He blasted a fifth enemy alien ship and continued to stare with a smile and a whisper at the television screen. "My name is not Stan, the man."

She understood the new game and smiled with a nod. "O. So, you want to do a role play character with me. That's fine. I've heard of that sex fun. I want to be a fairy princess. But, you can call me, princess. So, what is your new name gonna be, big boy?"

He continued to play on the television screen with a smile. "I can't tell you that, Princess Emma. But, I can tell you this. I like to role play with boys, only."

She jerked back with a puzzled brow and stared at his cheekbone. "I like to role play with boys, only. What the fuck does that mean, not Stan, the man?" He ignored her beauty nakedness and continued to play on the electronic game box with a smile and a nod that was hooked up into the seventy inched plasma television in silence. Her neurons worked in overtime and pondered the remark from her beau and as she gasped in total shock. "You're gay."

He continued to play with a smile and a nod at the intergalactic war game. "I like to role play with boys only usually means that I'm gay. So, I don't like to role play with girls, ever."

"Gawd! Why are you here with me then?" She snarled with ferocious fury and fight, because Emma was not getting the first of ten Fuck Fests ever.

He flew the space ship on the computer screen with a frown. "Asshole Gerrit made me do it."

She frowned with confusion at her beau. "Do it! What did asshole Gerrit make you do, not Stan, the man?"

"Asshole Gerrit made me come here to Antebellum House. I am supposed to pretend to be a badass boy who is nicknamed, Stan, the man, instead of a nice gentle man, who is un-named. But, I did give my money freely to the lost cause of Antebellum House, so you should be hundred fully satisfied with that honored agreement, Princess Emma," chuckling.

She dropped open a mouth in shock and slowly stood upright from the floor with a sour frown, swiftly back stepped and scooted her beau, dashing ahead towards the open bathroom and away from her non-beau.

She entered the bathroom and stopped, standing in front of the bathroom counter, reaching out and rattled the brown tinted paper bag like an angry snake, withdrawing the used and abused rubber male penis which was measured at two inches in diameter and seven inches long Emma had purchased a new one inside a sex store in downtown Birmingham on Sunday afternoon after church while tagging along with Chloe.

She reached out and grabbed a gob of vaginal jelly from the open container on two fingers, reaching down and carefully rubbed the gel up, down, and sideways from the tip down to the base of the new rubber penis. She spun around with an angry face to face the archway and exited the bathroom, moving ahead pass her beau towards the bed mattress, since she planned to fuck her vagina while producing a set of multiple sexual orgasms, until Emma passed out from exhaustion.

07:30 p.m.

Front porch location

Hot temperatures and moonlight with bright stars

Fairy tale of twins Spring and Autumn and beau Stan

The limousine slowed and stopped in front of the brick coated steps. The door opened. Stan slid out from bench the seat and stood upright with a smile, handing a one-hundred-dollar bill to the chauffeur driver with a nod in silence, twisting to see the queen virgin. Jocelyn was a beautiful woman of twenty-two years old, who was closer to his age than the other young virgins of Antebellum House, where he was about to lustfully introduce into his world of love. He moved ahead and climbed up the granite steps on a pair of gray lizard-skinned cowboy boots with a smile and stopped, standing in front of Jocelyn, saying the silly code name, "Stan, the man."

Jocelyn extended a manicured hand with a smile like a future business executive who would eventually work with her father at his bank firm. "Welcome, Stan, the man!" He reached out and gently touched a hand of delicate long fingers on Jocelyn in silence. She moved ahead and cuddled into his body, tapping a sexy hip right next to his leg with a giggle of excited amusement. Beau Gerrit had claimed manly possession on this particular Antebellum House belle for some reason as he watched her pair of big breasts that bounced up and down inside the red soft gown.

The new beau could distinguish a virtuous virgin from a nasty whore, since a pure virgin smelled good to a pair of manly nostrils like a patch of wild sweet honeysuckles that was freshly growing on the green vines and coupled with bouts of happy giddiness of delight into the eardrums and smiling faces for the eyeballs. He wished that he could fuck this doll with her sexy curves and angel face of pink while she continued to giggle with giddiness of girly innocence into his face.

She turned and smiled at him. "You are mating with the twins who are named Spring and Autumn. Honestly! I don't know which one is which. But, that's your new assignment, Stan, if you double dog dare to accept it." Jocelyn giggled with a grin. He grunted with that challenge of double trouble inside a nasty mental mind.

They slowly strolled down towards the end of the Dogtrot Hall, since he knew the location of the ballroom too. He had been schooled here during the undergraduate days, before he had graduated from Birmingham University or the common nicknamed Burn U and then he entered into Birmingham State University or Bam U law school.

They continued ahead and moved pass the belle parlor room.

He pointed at the opening of the belle parlor room. She did not look but nodded with a puzzled brow. "Yes, the belle parlor room is still haunted. No one goes in there for any reason."

"Understood," he nodded the acceptance but still curiosity about the she-ghosts that haunted the enclosed staircase.

"Someday, one brave soul might come along and destroy those vertical walls that hold these three evil she-ghosts, before my first born child comes here," Jocelyn exhaled with nervousness.

"Wouldn't the three she-ghosts just move to another pair of parallel walls while continuing to torment folks between the empty air molecules?" He said with an anticipated excitement of the double fun evening with twin virgins.

Jocelyn smiled. "That's a good question, Stan, the man. But, don't ask the twins! They won't understand you or your question."

"I don't plan a lot of chit-chatting, since I'm more a finger-feeling kind of a guy. I plan to do a lot of..."

"The twins will entertain you. I promise. But, I want you to promise to be a good gentle beau with the..."

"Kittens," he grinned with a wicked smirk.

"However, they are truly a pair of virgins who are newly weaned from their mama cat tits."

"I swear to be nice and gentle."

"I really appreciate that paid double the price of the twins at two thousand dollars. We'll use all the monies to..."

"Are they pretty like you, kitten? Because, I'll pay four thousand dollars for you, baby," he smiled.

She continued to tap the high heels over the wooden floor and looked ahead with a smirk. "The twins are just as pretty as me, Stan, the man."

"Can I leave in a limo with my two kittens from here at Antebellum House?"

Jocelyn halted with an angry brow and turned, flipping an angry face to see his smile, "Absolutely not, beau! You will go directly into the bedroom of Autumn for your fun and their pleasure during the evening." She swung around to face the breezeway with a stern face. "Then all of the beaus will leave at eight am in the morning, after the house staff leaves from preparing our morning breakfast. That is when the limo arrives picking all you up from here and then taking all of you back home to the Rebel Den. Do you hear me, beau?"

"Yes ma'am," he moved ahead with a smirk and bumped into her set of swaying hips, touching her leg again.

They slowly strolled down the rest of the breeze way.

He turned to the side and scanned the awful exterior condition of the House which needed fresh coat of paint and major building repairs. "Can I come back on Saturday night also to see my kittens?"

She moved ahead and stared with a stern face into the darkness, "What about attending the weekly football game?"

"I can miss the attendance of the weekly football game," he frowned.

"If you enjoy the twins that much, then I might be able to arrange something on Saturday afternoon. But, you must get Gerrit's permission first."

He frowned. "Gerrit told me no already along with some of the other rednecks. Gerrit is big man at Rebel Den. No one disobeys Gerrit ever."

Ballroom location

Interior setting

Fairy tale Autumn and Spring and their beau

"We're here." Jocelyn stopped with a smile and turned to face the interior of the ballroom, standing inside the open archway with him, squeezing his forehead with nervousness, saying to the remaining belles. "We have another beau. Go and pick your belle, darling!"

He moved ahead and nodded to the remaining four pretty girls and then purposefully hesitated each boot step for fun and nervousness while creating a lovely atmosphere of belle tension. He moved beside the set of silly clown-decoration window treatments which had been created by a set of little elementary school kids and as a pair of eyeballs shifted to a single girl. He admired the pretty queen-sized belle with a set of gorgeous features on her pretty face, her pair of giant tits, and her big body frame, but he preferred a set of smaller tits along with a tight ass. So, tonight, he would have two asses in each palm hand which was even more fitting than one single ass while chuckling underneath the breath. He moved ahead to the second sofa with a smile at the beautiful brunette female and dashing away from her winking eyelash and stopped, standing in front of the twins.

The two females jumped up and down on top of the single cushion while bouncing into each other's shoulder. He chuckled with more excitement. The twins looked alike, possessing a head of long platinum blonde hair down to the tiny waist which flowed on the side of a pretty face with a gathered with blue gem bow that matched the antebellum dress.

The gown was both sleeveless and strapless and exposed a set of smooth tissue of tanned breasts and as his penis tingled with delight for his first fucking sex act with a set of twin virgins. The females continued to jump up and down on top of the single cushion while bouncing into each other's shoulder. He grunted with a grin of happiness and hold both forearms bent at the elbow crouch for each twin.

They stood upright at the same time with a giggle of nervous energy and bumped into each other, moving ahead and swaying side to side into his body on each side of his rib cage. He grunted with more anticipation of many fucks with the pretty twins. Each female reached out and grabbed one of his exposed forearms, digging a set of sharp fingernails into his exposed skin.

He slowly back stepped from the sofa and twisted to face the open archway and Jocelyn, giving the females and their dresses room to waddle side to side.

They moved ahead and passed by Jocelyn.

He smiled with a nod. "See you, Jocelyn!"

"Bye," Spring smiled with a giggle to Jocelyn and continued to dig the fingernails into the naked arm of her shared beau.

"...bye," Autumn smiled with the same giggle to Jocelyn and continued to dig the fingernails into the other naked arm of the shared beau.

He led them through the archway and turned to face the front porch, since he knew the direction of the belle garconniere also. The twins wiggled side to side and maneuvered over both his arms and his legs as he became more excited with sex too. He looked down with a smile at each blonde colored hair roots. "Ya'll look just alike."

Spring bounced into his rib cage with a giggle and a grin. "Thank..."

"...you," Autumn bounced into his other rib cage with a giggle and a grin.

He turned and looked down into the blonde hair roots of each twin with a smile. "You talk just alike, too."

"Thank," smiled Spring.

"...you," grinned Autumn.

He chuckled with a nod at the girls. "I'm Stan, both ya'll's man."

They moved ahead and turned, strolling in front of the windows of the belle parlor room.

"Hi," Spring smiled.

"Stan, Autumn grinned.

"Spring," she smiled.

"Autumn," she grinned.

He turned and looked down at each blonde hair roots. "Spring and Autumn, your names are like the yearly seasonal calendar. When is your birthday?"

"We're not supposed to," Spring frowned.

".... talk about personal data," frowned Autumn.

He recalled that his family background was supposed to be kept as a secret from each girl along with identification of the silly common code name, Stan, the man. He smiled. "Right! I'm sorry."

"You don't look, sorry." Spring bounced into his boot path with a giggle and continued to dig a set of fingernails into his flesh with excited anticipation.

They turned the building corner and strolled beside the windows of the belle garconniere.

"You look manly." Autumn leaned the dress into his walking path with a giggle. He stumbled forward on both legs and two boot toes around the two hemlines with care. She continued to dig the fingernails into his flesh with excitement too.

He turned with a smile and looked down side to side at each set of blonde colored hair roots. "Do you always finish each other's sentence?"

"I..." Spring giggled.

".... guess." Autumn giggled.

He chuckled. "How will I tell each of one of you apart?"

They turned to face the staircase and then slowly climbed up each step while shoving a body into his pathway.

"I'm Spring," she bounced into his body with a giggle.

"I'm Autumn," she bounced into the other side of his body with a giggle.

He chuckled at the new challenge. "Okay. I'll figure something out. I bet there's one tiny difference between you, girls."

"No." Spring stopped on top of the staircase and pointed with a smile the closed door of Autumn's bedroom. He stopped with a smile and stared at the closed door.

"Not." Autumn stopped beside him with a smile.

Private bedroom of Autumn with Stan and her twin sister Spring

He grinned with at the new double pleasure of fun and reached out, touching and twisted the wrist bone. The door opened as the heavy door sway open into the single bedroom. The twins removed a hand from his naked and entered through the open archway first with a set of giggles and grins. He followed behind the twins and moved inside, stopping and stared at the familiar bedroom layout. He saw the first nightstand on the side wall, a king-size mattress that was covered in a set of maroon and yellow tinted sunflowers, a second nightstand, and a row of three undivided windows, where all the curtains were closed for our privacy. There was a brown leather settee inside the wall corner intersection and a large entertainment cabinet on the other side wall, where a country music song blasted inside the bedroom that make him smile at the nice musical selection. An open bathroom door frame stood next to the open wardrobe door frame on the entrance wall which showed the entire panorama view of her private bedroom. All the sleeping rooms looked alike for each college student, so each student would concentrate on the academic studies. He moved ahead and stopped in front of the settee in the wall corner, bending at a fitted waist and both kneecaps, reaching out and grabbed, lifting up the light weight object into the air with a loud grunt. Both the twins clapped with a gasp and a giggle of his superman strength without knowing his evil purpose.

He back stepped from the wall corner and lifted the settee over the hair roots, moving backward between the bed frame and the entertainment cabinet, stopping in the middle of the empty wall, slamming the four legs of the settee onto the wooden floor and slid the settee into the wall for his viewing pleasure. He spun around and stood upright in front of the settee. The twins dashed ahead and attacked his tallness, wandering a pair of naked hands and a set of soft gowns over his body. He leaned down and kissed the top platinum locks of one of two sisters underneath the armpit, pulling back with a confused brow. "You are?"

She rotated both hands over his shirt and felt his taunt muscles with a giggle and a grin, "Spring."

"Autumn," she giggled and tickled his other armpit.

He shook a skull with more confusion. The girls looked alike in appearance, sound, and manner while stroking his shirt, tickling his jeans with a pair of delicate female hands. He leaned down into the twin underneath the armpit with a smile. "You are named as Kitten One," he leaned over and kissed her soft pink lips, pulling back with a smile and turned to kiss the lips of the second girl, pulling back with a smile. "You are named as Kitten Two," he leaned down and smelled the sweet honeysuckle from each set of hair roots with a smile. "Can both of you remember your new call names?"

"Kitten One." The twin below the armpit smiled.

"Kitten Two." The twin below the other armpit smiled.

He nodded with a smile with the first accomplishment of the evening while starting the love affair, lifting and paralleled both arms even with the floor. "Strip me down to the nub, Kittens."

They set to work immediately on his tallness. Kitten One reached over and grabbed, pulling up his shirt out from the set of empty belt loops. Kitten Two reached down and unzipped his jeans with a pair of talented finger pads. He danced sideways with a smile and wiggled both hips with a chuckle when the jeans fell down and landed on top of the pair of cowboy boots. He sat down on top of the settee in his underwear. Each twin squatted and assisted him by pulling out one leg of the blue jeans over a boot toe. Kitten Two reached out and touched the top leather of his boot. He ticked a tongue at her with a firm tone, "Naw, darling! Do not ever touch a man's cowboy boot, without permission, honey!"

"Okay," Kitten Two reached over with a sad pout and tenderly rubbed his naked leg with her warm soft hands.

He reached over with a smile and patted her soft hair, slowly standing upright and reached down, pulling off the pair of underwear briefs, landing the item on top of one of the cowboy boots. He lifted up and stepped each boot out from underneath the pair of underwear briefs while showing off his man-nudeness. The girls gasped with a smile and reached over, wandering a pair of hands and all finger pads onto his deltoids down to his dick, his kneecaps, and finally his ankles. His penis was deflated and flat now, but the body part was about to grow taller than a southern pine tree. "Strip down to your nakedness for me, kittens," Stan side stepped and scooted the settee towards the bed frame and stopped, reaching over and flung off the bedcover from the mattress on the top of the settee. He sat back down onto the furniture and leaned both shoulder blades against the side of the bed frame with both hands tucked behind a skull while stretching both boot heels over the floor and watched the lesbian play in action. He felt the dick grow bigger with a grunt of lustful pleasure.

The girls moved around in a circle between the settee and the entertainment cabinet while ripping off a set of tied silk ribbons on the front of the gown and popped open the fabric loose from the skin. The V-neckline of the dress quickly dropped down to the waistline and revealed a pair of naked tits with an individual tiny pointy pink nipple. He grunted with lusty excitement. "Touch each other, kittens!" He continued to watch with lustful sin of delight.

Kitten One reached out and grabbed the breast of her sister with both hands, massaging the fingers around and around in a rough circle. Kitten Two reached out and twirled the fingers around each nipple breast of her sister. They both panted with a set of heavy breathes and tossed a skull backward to continue the lesbian show. He grunted with pleasure and as his dick expanded up from flat into firm while lifting upwards. "Lick each other, kittens!" He smiled with lustful greed at the twins.

Kitten Two leaned down and dipped a pair of lips onto the breast of her sister while sucking onto the nipple and then shifted the same pair of lips over to the other nipple of her sister while sucking for joy. His dick grew harder and taller.

Kitten Two stopped the slurping noise with her lips. Then Kitten One bends a face down and sucked onto the breast of her sister while playing with the other breast on her twin sister and then switched a hand and lip movement to the opposite side. He grunted with the sexy lust and as his dick grew bigger and taller. "Undress each other for me, kittens!" He enjoyed the lesbian twin action with a smile of puppy love and pussy lust.

Kitten One stood upright and stopped the sucking action. Then, they each reached over and pulled down each one's dress onto the waistline. The dress dropped down to the kneecaps creating a semi-naked body except for a tiny pink thong over a set of hidden pussy hair. He smirked with delight. "Finger fuck each other for me, kittens!"

Kitten One reached down and slowly slid the throng of her sister a set of long tanned legs to the top heap of the electric blue ruffles at the bottom of naked ankles, then Kitten two steps out of the dropped gown, shoving her gown behind her naked ass. He grunted in lust and as his dick grew into a new height and pleasure. Kitten Two was beautifully nude in a deep suntan of coffee from her forehead down to her ten toe nails that were painted in baby blue. He chuckled at the twin lesbian show.

Kitten One stood upright with both arms by the side as Kitten Two fuddled with the throng of her twin sister and then dropped down the tiny piece of fabric down on top of the waddled up evening gown of blue. Kitten One lifted up and stepped both sandals out and away from the pile of blue ruffles, sliding the dress behind her naked ass. Then each twin was stood in beautifully nude in coffee tone and stared with a smile at each other.

Kitten One slowly bent down at the waist in a backwards position, arching a body like a gymnastic over the floor. His mouth dropped open with stunned amusement. She landed both hands flat on the floor, creating a pretty-neat inverted U-shaped pose with her limber body. Kitten Two slid to the side for his eyeball view and then jabbed a finger into the pussy of her twin sister. He leaned forward at the waistline on top of the settee and grunted in a smile and a whisper of lusty amusement, "Golly."

Kitten One gently thrust a finger in and out of the exposed pussy. Kitten Two gently slid her body back and forth in an opposite noiseless rhythm with the hand movement. The pussy and finger crush and thrust beautifully together. His dick suddenly engorged, enlarged, and elongated upward into a tall pole of flesh. He continued to watch the lustful lesbian play, before both eyeballs with a grin and a whisper, "Golly." He swallowed back down the thick salvia from a watery mouth and reached out, gently touching an upright and elongated dick with a set of the fingers where his dick was about ready to explode into action. "Kittens," his vocal cords spoke out in a sissy croak and swollen with a set of thick pockets of mouth salvia.

"Yes," Kitten One continued to kneel with a smile and thrust a finger deeper down into the pussy of her twin sister for an outstanding lesbian show.

He croaked with a smirk. "Come and do me, kittens!" Kitten Two un-bent a body, standing upright with a giggle of amusement. They turned and moved ahead to him with a set of giggles and grins of happy thoughts. Kitten Two bounced her tits side to side and moved ahead first, standing in front of his legs with a smile. He leaned down and stretched his nudeness flat across the settee with a grunt and a smile. "Sit on your knees first and then straddle over my dick." She crawled over his hips and danced a set of boney knees while cutting into his hips bones, holding her pelvis in front of his dick. She slowly reached down and wiggled both hands towards his penis. "Naw! You can do play with my dick later, after I bust. Kitten One, hold your hands underneath the armpits of your twin sister as she squats and hovers her pussy over my dick."

Kitten One shuffled ahead and stood upright behind the back spine of her twin sister, reaching down and placed a cupped hand underneath the armpit of Kitten Two. He reached up and held the tiny waistline of Kitten Two, gently gliding her pussy directly over his elongated dick. Both the twins gasped with lusty excitement.

Kitten Two wiggled her kneecaps side to side and slowly swayed the pussy hair over the leaking tip of his elongated dick. He smiled. "Squat down on top of my dick, kitten!"

She wiggled down a body onto the bubbling tip of his penis while feeling the tightness of soft vagina lips. "O! No. No. No," she screamed in shock and pain while trying to wiggle off his dick, flinging both arms in the air. Kitten Two was a virgin with a tight vagina hole. He lifted up and shifted both hands from her waistline, violently slamming both palms onto her collar bone. Kitten Two dropped down onto his fully elongated and engorged dick with a loud scream of tears.

He grunted in both pain and pleasure too, "Ugg!"

Her vagina hugged his penis and as her pubic bone tickles each one of his hairy balls with her fuck squatting pose. "O! No. No. No," she sobbed with tears in pain.

He reached down and placed both hands on her tiny waist of Kitten Two while jerking her body two up and down on top of his dick with a grunt of pain and pleasure. "Jump up and down on my dick. Fuck me, kitten!" The blood rushed quickly up towards the tip while heating his body with the tension from the tight vagina wall on the virgin that cuddled around his dick. She danced on top of his dick and waved both arms into the air with pain and fright. He continued to hold her place for his pleasure.

She continued to jump up and down. "O! No. No. No," she screamed in pain and pleasure.

He enjoyed the cowgirl ride where a pair of boot soles was planted firmly on the floor. Her sister Kitten One jerked the body of her sister up and down with the steady rhythm of Stan as Stan felt the heat of sperm and the rush of blood towards his penis. She continued to jump up and down while building up the pressure inside his two hairy balls as he was about to explode. He lifted Kitten Two with his man-strength out from the abused penis into the air. She planted both naked feet on top of the floor and stumbled backward over his kneecaps into the naked arms of her twin sister. Then, she flung a body towards the bed mattress in pants of heavy breathing and cries of pain and pleasure. The dick pressure slightly died down for a few seconds.

Kitten One moved ahead with a smile and poses her virgin vagina over his elongated dick with a giggle.

On top of the bed mattress, Kitten Two covered her nakedness with the bed linens and bedcover, resting a face on top of the bed pillow, without looking at him and felt both pain and pleasure. Kitten One climbed over his legs with a giggle of excitement. He smiled. "Hop on, kitten! I'll pretty your flower with all my seedlings."

She posed her pussy hole on top of his used and abused red tinted elongated dick that came from the fucking sex act with her twin sister Kitten Two. Then, she slowly lowered and sucked down both her vagina lips onto his penis with yells of pain. "Yes. Yes. O. O. O." He slightly sat upright and reached up, slamming both my palms down on top of her collar bone.

Kitten One screamed in shock and pain. "O! No. No. No," she bit a string of red blood into the bottom lip while hanging up and down onto the cowgirl ride. He reached down and grabbed, cupping a hand underneath each one of her armpits with a grunt of pleasure while quickly, gathering huge pressure inside his dick. "O! No. No. No," she screamed with delight and determination of both pain and pleasure.

He worked the man-strength in overtime while lifting her nakedness up and down, building up the pressure coming from inside both hairy balls that was headed towards his engorged dick. His penis was as thick as his bicep. His body was heated fire and very close to edge. He sounded with heavy pants of pleasure. "Go, kitten!" His penis was hard and ready to shoot out a batch of hot sperm as it could not hold the heated load any longer. His two hairy balls were about to pop out the sperm into the penis into her vagina and as his dick stiffened for the final blow of sperm men, He grunted. "Faster, kitten! I'm about to pop." Then he exploded a volcano of sperm into her pussy while feeling the shivering and shaking earthquakes of a great fucking sex act. His ejaculation force was a continuous stream of liquid and as his body experienced a set of muscle spasms and involuntary pelvic thrusts for a great long fuck that was coupled with a good long gush of sperm of lusty gratification. Then, his left eye went temporarily blinded for a few seconds as and his body shivered in great sexual shock.

Kitten One continue to jump up and down on top of his sore penis with a set of yelling screams, waving both arms into the air with a smile with the cowgirl ride. When he removed both hands from her underarms, she slid backward from his leg and his dick while seeing the tall and red colored penis. She back stepped from the settee and his body, standing upright with a giggle, turning to climb into the bed mattress with her twin sister.

He slowly exhaled with the pleasure of sex and immediately felt sleepy, slowly standing upright from the settee, stretching both arms towards the ceiling with a goofy smile and a perfect vision of great sex act. He swung around to face the bed mattress and slowly crawled his nakedness between the cute twins while wearing his pair of cowboy boots. Stan leaned over and kissed the hair roots of blonde crown of each girl, pulling back with a smile, resting a skull on top of the pillow and closed both eyelids with a whisper. "Good night, kittens!"

08:01 p.m.

Hot temperatures with bright stars and moonlight

Front porch location

Fairy tale of belle Jocelyn and her beau Stan

Jocelyn stood upright like a royal queen with a smile at the male. He slid out the seat of the limousine with a smile on a diamond shaped face. He was known to Jocelyn as Gerrit who possessed a narrow forehead and a protruding jaw line. His cheekbones were sharp and high like a pair of crab apple. She laughed, "Gerrit."

He skipped up the steps and crashed his tallness into her, curling both biceps around her naked shoulder blades while giving a passionate hug and leaned down, kissing her lips with his soft petals of man-flesh. He slowly releases her mouth and pulled back with a smile at her. "Jo doll, you're so beautiful." His pair of dancing eyeballs admired her red velvet floor length antebellum dress. The dress complimented her delicate pink skin. His eyes started at the top of her ample breasts moving down to her covered toe nails of misty gray-tinted nail polish which hid under her fluffy plantation dress.

She smiled with a giggle at his eye burn of her body. Gerrit was her deeply guarded secret high school crush, until her father became older and wiser, sending his only daughter off to Antebellum House...naw...prison for almost four years.

Gerrit did not waste precious time with a hand shake or a secret code name, since Jocelyn was the grand prize trophy for Gerrit when she had used her "cousin Jerk" to negotiate with the Rebel Den of beaus to bid on a belle while raising the required sixty-three thousand dollars which was needed to save our precious Antebellum House.

Gerrit leaned over and cuddled her, swinging them towards the front porch, slowly moving ahead towards the belle garconniere. He leaned into her cheekbone with a smile. "I love you, Jo doll," he snuggled a nose into her neck.

She wiggled with nervousness inside both his warm muscular arms, strolling outside the hot air on top of the front porch, since the staircase of the belle parlor room was truly haunted. She had personally ventured twice in a pair of cowgirl boots and then proven the theory true. Each time, Jocelyn felt a set of invisible finger pads that tickled the nape of her neck while experiencing a range from scary-kitty cat into a set of creepy-grossed out mental and body sensations. She giggled at his sick humor, "Sucky pick-up line for a blind day, boy!"

"That ain't no pick-up line. It's a promise, Jo doll." He whispered with a smile into her eardrum.

She smiled at his silly pet name, since she had personally known Gerrit for many years as he was one of her farm neighbors and mutual friend of her "cousin Jerk." She grinned, "Gerrit."

They slowly strolled by the set of low shuttered windows towards the wall corner.

He drooled on her face, neck, and arm with his mouth salvia. She smelled his manly piney musk cologne and turned the wall corner, moving towards her private bedroom chamber on the third floor as the senior girl in class. He whispered with a grin into her eardrum. "Do you remember our first date? I was five years old. You were three and sitting on top of your pink baby tricycle. We planned to glide down that steep hill like a two-person royal chariot with you on the top of your handle bars. We lined up all the citizens that came from each one of our bedroom with all types of stuffed toy animals from bears to dogs to cats to monkeys to giraffes along the sides of the lawn grass as our new subjects of the kingdom bowed at us. You loved to play royal kingdom with me."

"You loved to play royal kingdom as the big and dumb king," she chuckled.

He reached over and crushed both her breasts with a hand while sweet breathing and tickling her eardrum. "Jo doll! Then, you perched like a princess between my big muscular biceps leaning your butt..."

"Back muscles into your happy smiling face, bubba. Then, we sailed down into dangerous disaster."

He chuckled. "I saved your cute ass when I flung my mighty he-man five-year old body off that tricycle during that dangerous flight that I might add too while going straight down that hill. Then, I grabbed your shoulders jerking you to safety into my wrapped arms."

"Our safety was a nearby mud puddle that you landed us in. Then, your mama spanked your butthole with an alligator belt which was colored in a bright puke green. Was that really her fashion belt?" She smiled at the yesteryear thought.

He sniggered. "Naw! It belonged to my dad. It hurt too along with all these developing bruises from landing on my left side and my shoulder with precious you who was tucked into both my arms, sweetheart. I will never forget that precious perfect picture moment of our first date together, Jo doll."

"I really didn't get hurt physically but I was just scared to death mentally from that frightful flight and then that flying fleet of your swift rescue," she chuckled.

"Well, I wasn't trying to harm my beautiful cousin, since I like to kiss on your body parts, Jo doll."

She exhaled. "You are not blood cousin, Gerrit."

"Yeah, Jo doll! I am your kissing cousin which is defined by the internet dictionary: a far and away distant relative who is known well enough to kiss when nicely greeted with a combination of a great big bear hug and a long leech-lip suction. That is the difference of a kissing cousin from a plain old fucking regular cousin. Then, the two kissing cousins become a cousin marriage."

"Gawd! I'm not marrying any one of my blood cousins or you, Gerrit," she pretended not to hear that weird-ass marriage proposal inside her mental thought with one single purpose in life of studying until she graduated college and received a paying job. "Tonight, this thing is a big favor that I owe to Jerk-face."

"Jerk-face?" He frowned with puzzlement.

"My cousin named Jerk," she smiled.

"O! Jack, he's your other kissing cousin. I'm getting really jealous, Jo doll," he growled.

She exhaled. "Wrong, Gerrit!"

He smiled. "A kissing cousin is any cousin that is not a first cousin. You ain't my first cousin, Jo doll. Among related folks in other places, in the world, a first cousin may not have sex or a baby with another first cousin. But, in most cultures, second cousins and higher cousins can have sex and a baby. Degree of cousinship is determined by how many generations the shared ancestor is removed from the individual closest to the generation of the shared ancestor. If we share the same grandparent, we are first cousins. Therefore, we should avoid any physical encounters with each other which might lead to sex then to marriage and finally to a baby. First cousins are not kissing cousins. If we share the same great-grandparent, we are second cousins and are therefore able to kiss, fuck, produce children, since we are royal people, Jo doll. Well, if we had lived in foreign country of Great Britain, instead of the great USA. I am descended from the king of Germany."

"How so?"

He smiled, "You are also descended from the king of Germany too."

She laughed, "How so, Gerrit?"

"We learn, practice, and enforce the original decree which was established in the foreign country of Great Britain, where it was known as the Royal Marriage Act of 1772. After the cave woman fucked a cave man, the cave daddy created the second generation of incest children," he chuckled.

"You're sick, Gerrit."

"The Royal Marriage Act states that the first born royal child, a brave son or a pretty daughter, must first obtain royal in our case a southern verbal or sometimes written consent from a pair of strict and loving mom and dad in order to maintain their eligibility to the farm, land, money and children."

"That is some stupid stuff!"

"That is some serious stuff! I can prove it, Jo doll."

"Prove it, prince of Germany!" She smiled.

He removed both arms from her warm body and reached down, grabbing the mobile telephone from the blue jeans pocket, typing on the tiny keyboard with a smile and displayed a new electronic photography on the tiny screen. He leaned over with a grin and hugged her collar bone, shoving the mobile telephone into her face. "Here, the digital picture on the screen of my cell phone. This is Friedrich, the first. Wilhelm Karl von Württemberg was born on the sixth of November in the year 1754 and died on the thirtieth of October in the year 1816. He was declared the king of Germany by Emperor Napoleon. He was known for his gigantic size at six feet and eleven inches and weighed about 440 pounds."

She stared down at the tiny screen to see the colorful photography with a gasp and a smile. "Golly! Friedrich looks like you. He possesses the same high forehead, loss of blonde hair strands, a sharp pointy nose, and a pair of little beady eyeballs with no cheekbones. He has a thin but shapely par of lips and a pointy chin with a tone of pale skin."

"I look like my great-granddaddy to the fifth power. I think the fifth power. I have to ask my mom for shore."

"The fifth power of what, Gerrit?" She frowned.

He nodded with a smile at the screen on the mobile telephone. "You know my great-great-great-great-great-granddaddy, who is the fifth power of great. See that tiara?"

She continued to stare with a smile down at the picture on the tiny screen of the mobile telephone. "The crown of the Kingdom of Wurttemberg, it is called a royal crown," gasping. "I know that ornamented piece of gold. It is kept..."

"...inside my mom's glass bookcase. Do you see the orange tinted flattened chef's hat in velveteen cloth? The cloth has pretty much disintegrated into dust bunnies, but the gem emeralds shine with red and black sparklings. The diamond gems shine too. My mom jerked off the strand of attached ivory pearls from the bottom tier of the golden band. She wears the ivory pearls around her neck every damn day like she is a real princess. But the rest of the tiara is intact. My great-great granddaddy wouldn't let his wife or his daughters or his future granddaughters dismantle it for more jewelry items. The tiara is passed down to each blood child which is me and you."

"Me!" She gasped with shock.

"Frederick was born in the country of Poland and the eldest son of Frederick Eugene, the second, who was the Duke of Wurttemberg."

"Your middle name is Eugene."

He shook a balding skull with a growl. "Please, darling, do not mention that sissy name in public every again."

She laughed with a nod. "It's an old fashioned royal name, Eugene Gerrit."

"Please do not mention that combined sissy name in public either," he laughed at the silly surname that came from his parents.

They turned to face the new archway and slowly climbed the grand staircase, moving up towards her private bedroom suite on the third floor, since Jocelyn was a senior at Antebellum House.

"Okay," she smiled.

"Frederick married Duchess Augusta of Brunswick and had four royal kids, granting all his biological children and further male-line descendants the titles of princes and princesses of Wurttemberg as a set of Royal High-asses." He chuckled. "Eugene was very tall and obese who had been nicknamed as the 'Great Belly Gerent' which is Germany for the name Gerrit. Napoleon was said to remark right into the face of Gerrit that God had created Frederick to demonstrate the utmost extent to which the human skin could be stretched without bursting. In an unkind return, right over the bald spot of shorter Napoleon, Frederick teased the question: how much poison could fit into such a small pointy head?"

She gasped. "What does that mean?"

"They didn't like each other and probably both plotted and planned to murder each other in their royal bed chambers like that British dude William Shakespeare had written down inside all his weird-ass plays of poison, daggers, and bedrooms. This is some sick-o stuff!"

"What kind of poison?"

"Back then, in those ancient days, all the bad boys and naughty girls liked to use sleeping potions, the 'bestest' of all. Pretty much, it was the equivalent of a drug overdose in our modern times. I had studied about the effects of poison in the body, since I had majored in biology."

"Potions or poisons, Gerrit?"

"Both, I guess. The reality here, I am descended directly down from his son who is named Prince William of Wurttemberg. The prince was born in the year 1781 and then died in the year 1864 while succeeding his father as king of Germany."

"How are we related blood-kin, Gerrit?"

He smiled. "Endogamy is practiced and used quite offer by the British royalty in a cousin marriage within a specific class of folks, such like, blood royal or blue blood southern social groups for money or power like us."

"No, it is not like us. And the specific class of folks in our southern culture is called hillbillies who marry each other..."

"In the year 1299, the first British royal marriage of first cousins was Edward, the first of England and his wife Margaret of France. Then, in the year 1840, Queen Victoria married her first cousin Prince Albert. They produced nine children, forty grandchildren, and more than 1,000 total descendants that made up some of the modern reigning royalty, including me and you, Jo doll."

She frowned. "No. That is not true, Gerrit."

"The mostest and commonest among the modern day royal couple is the Queen Elizabeth, the second and her husband Prince Philip, who are third cousins that descent from the royal couple of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. Prince Charles and his famous formal wife Princess Diana, both of them share a common ancestor in William Cavendish, the Duke of Devonshire. The newest married royal couple is Duchess Catherine Middleton and Prince William, who are known to be fifteenth royal cousins."

"We are not royalty, Gerrit," she stopped with a frown and pointed to the private bedroom suite.

He continued to cuddle her and stopped, reaching out, touching the door knob. The door opened. He slowly moved ahead through the wide archway with her with a smile and a chuckle. "We are the American royalty, sweetheart. John Adams and his third cousin Abigail Smith married while he served as the President of the United States. Then there is Alfred du Pont, the great-grandson of DuPont Company founder who married his second cousin Alicia Bradford Maddox. And Albert Einstein married his first cousin. The western outlaw Jesse James married his first cousin too. And Dr. Thomas Jefferson married his third cousin..."

She moved ahead inside the room a few feet and stopped with a smile and a nod. "Okay. I believe your American royalty with the silly cousin marriages."

He stopped and continued to cuddle with her, leaning down with a smile into her cheekbone. "Presidents, warriors, outlaws, writers, inventors, we are right there with all of them."

She exhaled, "Gerrit, how in heaven and earth are we numbered as a pair of kissing cousins?"

"We are both the eighteenth cousin on my mama's side." He smiled.

Private bedroom of Jocelyn and Gerrit

The door slowly closed behind the back spines of the young lovers without any sound, since the door spring hinges worked perfectly to catch the five feet wide door frame. She stood in place with a smile of amusement.

Gerrit reached down and pulled off the shirt, exposing a naked chest of sculptured muscular chest, dropping the first time of his strip tease male show. The leather belt hit the floor with a loud thump. He lifted a boot and danced around, holding the sole with a sour frown. "Fuck! My foot's stuck," then he jerked off the boot with the sock and thumped the cowboy boot next to the nightstand with a loud boom, lifting and grabbed, twirling around, removing the second boot. The boot landed next to the first one with another boom sound.

She back stepped from all the individual pieces of flying clothes that were scattered between the door and the wardrobe closet, smiling at his rain dance. He unzipped the blue jeans and dropped them down to a pair of naked ankles while exposing his tallness and his paleness. She giggled and then slapped a hand over the parted lips at his poor male stripper performance.

He removed the blue jeans and dumped onto the floor, moving ahead towards her bed mattress, leaping out of the underwear briefs and exposed a pale tinted naked ass. Then, he leaped and jumped across the bed mattress with a set of extra-long arms and legs, landing on the opposite side while lying in beautiful nakedness. Gerrit reached out and grabbed, removing the computer laptop from the single desk, resting it gently on top of the floor and then scooted off the bed mattress. He stood upright with a stern face and scooted the empty student desk across the wooden floor and halted the furniture piece at the foot board of the bed mattress. He squatted down and measured the height of the cheap plywood student desk with the height of the bed mattress using an arm with a soft moan, "Too short!"

Gerrit spun around with a stern face and displayed a crinkled penis while moving ahead to the side wall, where a built-in book case stood. He stopped and stood in front of book case, reaching out and selected four thick textbooks from her baby library, a collection of manual that came from years of college courses and studies. He moved backward on a pair of naked feet back to the cheap student desk and stopped, squatting down at outer table leg, placing one of the thick textbooks underneath the table foot which lifted the hard surface of the desk even with the height of the bed mattress. He stood upright and turned with a smile to see Jocelyn. "Get naked, Jo doll!"

She continued to stand upright in quiet silence and more amusement while watching his furniture re-decoration inside her bedroom while still wearing the pretty plantation dress with a smile. "What are you doing?"

He spun around and moved ahead, stopping in front of the television, fiddling with the cable and slid the gigantic television monitor from the entertainment stand, landing the screen on top of the student desk with a smile. "I'm moving the plasma television."

She shook the hair bun and reached up, slowly un-wrapped an aching scalp of tight hair strands with a smile. "Are we going to watch television and fuck all at the same thing?"

He continued to stand and show off his fine nakedness with a penis that winked and waved to her and as he winked with a grin to her, "Awe, Jo doll! You completely understand me. See? We're made for each other." He spun around to face the bed mattress and climbed up, crawling over the purple colored girly bed linens of flowers.

She removed all the hair pins and reached out, placing into the entertainment stand, reaching down and unbuckled the belt that held the plantation gown in shape. Then, she slowly performed a strip tease act while dropping one piece of the clothing item down onto the floor and then kicked off one sandal and the next with a grin. Jocelyn could feel the cool floor underneath a pair of naked toe bones and then untied the satin ribbons that hold the upper body bodice, exposing a pair of naked breasts, since she did not wear a bra. She wiggled and shimmied out of the long gown, dropping it down over the naked ankles, removing a pair of cute lace red girly panties which Gerrit did not give a hoot about seeing. Then she stood upright in the nude.

Gerrit spun around and slid down, wiggling a naked ass side to side on top of the bed linen with a smile at her plasma television screen, fiddling with the remote control television devise in one hand while surfing through the different television channels programming with a pair of eyes on the wrong boob tube. "Fetch me a beer from the fridge, before you come over to my body."

She swung around with a chuckle and squatted down, opening the door of a white tinted baby refrigerator that was built inside the entertainment center. She felt the cool air tickle on both tits with a giggle and reached inside, grabbing one of the provided six beers, standing upright and spun around with a smile to see Gerrit. His lazy his ass lounged on the left side of her bed mattress like an old married man while playing with the remote control devise on the television.

"Fetch me some peanuts too and then come over here and play with me, Jo doll." He reached over with a hand and patted an empty spot on the bed linens, but both eyeballs only focused at the television screen.

She rolled both eyeballs with a sigh and spun around, squatting down for a second time, reaching out and opened a second door to the mini food pantry beside the tiny built-in refrigerator, where both appliances held a limited supply of food items for her nighttime snack. She reached in and grabbed a small pack of salted peanuts and slowly stood upright in total nakedness with a grin of silliness. She slowly spun around to face the canopy bed frame with the two food items and moved ahead while shaking a pair of big breasts side to side, hoping that Gerrit even looked at her cuteness. Jocelyn wondered why she had selected Gerrit over all the other cute beaus. Gerrit had been picked for Jocelyn, since "cousin Jerk" had arranged the secret rendezvous, so that the other rich beaus would tag along while paying a nice tidy sum of dollars for a belle to save Antebellum House.

"Come over here and play with me, Jo doll!" He slid a hand with a smile and patted down on top of an empty spot beside his hip. His body was folded against three stacks of soft pillows with a rear skull and as a pair of frontal eyeballs watched television screen with a live program.

She stopped and stood in front of the bed mattress with a smile, slowly climbing and crawled with one palm and a set of naked toe bones onto the soft bedding, handing the beer to Gerrit in silence. He reached out with a free hand and accepted the beer, bringing the bottle near a smile and opened it without looking at her while studying the television with a grunt. "Come over here and watch my little fellow! It is flat now, but it grows tall and big like a big mean soldier like me," he slurped and swallowed, burping out loud the beer gulp too fast.

She scooted over next to his hip and smelled the nasty beer burp breath with a sour frown, "Gerrit!" Jocelyn stared down with a giggle at a curly-q formation of pale tinted skin that formed his penis and continued to watch it wiggle and waggle upward into the air.

He continued to watch television screen and eat the peanuts. "This is the best foreplay in the universe watching a pair of other chicks and ducks fuck each other while making your body hot and heated for our first fuck fest. I'm getting bigger and taller. Lookie see at me? My penis is rising up like my mama's buttermilk biscuits." Jocelyn gasped with alarm. His penis slowly shifted side to side and lifted upright within a pair of blonde hairy balls into the air, taking flight towards the full moon today.

She smiled down at his penis. "Do we do foreplay, before our first fuck fest?"

"I fore play the television," Gerrit continued to eat the peanuts and watch the television with a grunt of pleasure.

She continued to watch his penis as it was slowly standing between a set of hairy balls. His pale skin straightened in tallness. "Nuh-uh," she smiled in fun amusement and total confusion.

"Watch the television, too, Jo doll! This is some cold-ass porn on your crappy television channel. But, it'll do the job for the night," he continued to eat and gulp the food while watching the television screen.

She swung a puzzled face with a gasp to see her first view of porn television, since her dad would tan her hide, if he ever suspected that Jocelyn had powered the television set to a pornography station. On the screen, a young naked male and female with the male on top of the female moved his dick slowly in and out of her vagina while leaning down and massaged both her tits with his hands.

She felt it. There was a slight tingling inside both tits with a set of nipple pops from the excitement inside her mind. Her vagina was stretching without touching the body with a pair of fingers. Her eyeballs purely enjoyed the nasty recorded porn show. Gerrit pressed the device and switched the television channel. The screen showed a pair of girls who were kissing, foaming, and licking each other coming from a pair of girly eyelashes down into a pussy vagina like a pair of cats. "Uhn-uh," both her nipples hardened and as her vagina expanded open with slight pain. Her body desired a set of nice hand-touching action from Gerrit.

He grinned at television screen. "Porn's great. That's why it's so illegal. Guys can get primed watching the shit without even touching their dicks and then pop the sperm out like popcorn. Then, they do it over and over and over, again. Look at my little fellow! He is standing tall and saluting like a soldier."

"Uh-huh," she turned to see his penis while shivering with both excitement and fright as this was her first fuck fest with Gerrit.

He looked down with a smile and pointed down to his penis. "I'm inflated and buff. Check out my fellow!" She smiled with delight in silence. He reached over with a smile and placed the empty beer bottle on top of the nightstand, flipping to the opposite and rolled his long body into her vertical body with a grunt.

"Gerrit..." she looked up with a grin into his smile without moving from the spot, since Jocelyn n was partially frozen in fear and heat of danger. His penis racked against her naked stomach and moved closer down to her again while dripping the penis juice on top of her red colored curly pubic hairs.

He scooted over and floated over her body, leaning down with a smile and a whisper into her smile. "Bend your knees, Jo doll. It is time for you to be mine! Close your eyes. You will greatly enjoy this. I promise, darling."

She didn't close the eyelashes but hold both her palms around a set of his flexing twin biceps. He hovered over her. She burst into a flood of wet hot tears of both fear and fun while feeling a set of mixed emotions of sadness and happiness with a meek voice. "I really am a virgin, Gerrit."

He leaned down with a smile and tenderly kissed her trembling lips with a pair of warm lips, pulling back with a grin and whisper into her nose bridge. "Your cousin is a real jerk. But you are my real joy. I promise. I will not hurt you, Jo doll."

"Gerrit..." she sobbed with tears that flowed down the face.

He reached up and wiped off her tears with a smile and a whisper. "Get onto your knees. We will do it doggie style. I can control the pressure of my entrance point with my penis," he sat backward on both kneecaps. She flipped around to face the television and stood upright on top of both her kneecaps with sobs of tears and fears of worries. He lifted a face to see the active pornography television program and leaned down over her body with a whisper into her right eardrum. "Watch the porn show on television, Jo doll. Look at them fucking. Feel them fucking. Let your mind absorb that lustful emotion into your bones. Then, your vagina will expand for me to enter while only hurting you a little bit. As I ease inside you holler like a baby piglet for its mama. That's helps a lot. Then, I can measure your yodel with the other bitches that yodel..."

"Gerrit!"

He shifted over and gently kissed her earlobe and finally then her neck to ease her fury and fight, lifting up a torso. She felt the heat of his body against her ass. HE reached down and shoved both hands between her legs while parting them wider, scooting a body in close and bumped his hips against her ass. She felt the tip of his penis which nicely massaged her wet vagina. He leaned over into her eardrum with a smile and a whisper. "I'm going in now, Jo doll."

She continued to watch the television screen. The young couple were fucking and shouting in pleasure. Her body immediately reacted to the television program and his heated body. Her tits went hard and burned with intense fire. Both her arms and hands produced a set of heated sweat with passionate fright. And her vagina started to expand outward with a little more pain when a soft rounded flesh tip of his penis touched the lips of her vagina. He slowly pierced the thin layer of skin of her vagina, since she was a virgin. Jocelyn continued to watch on the porn scene while easing the ache of a first time virgin sex with a smile, "Awe." She felt pleasure and a little bit of pain, breathing deeply for more air molecules.

"I'm half-way inside you, Jo doll. Watch the porn. You're doing great, sweetheart." He forcefully shoved the penis head deeper into her tight vagina with a smile at the beauty of first time sex with a virgin, a dying breed.

"Awe," she felt excited pleasure which was coupled with a small amount of tighten pain and as the vagina lips expanded for his big penis.

He sounded in heavy pants from the carefully workout with the penis and her vagina with a smile. "I'm in, Jo doll. Watch the porn."

"Awe," she felt erotic pleasure while his penis filled her with dirty lust.

His penis was completely into her vagina and as he lifted upright a torso and gently rubbed her ass with a pair of warm hands, exhaling with a smile. "You feel so good to me, Jo doll. I'm going to rotate my little fellow like a washer machine to give your flower more wet lubrication, before the powerful thrust movement, darling," he rotated both hips in a circle with a chuckle.

His penis wiggled awake and produced intense pain and erotic pleasure inside her vagina. She screamed in pain and pleasure. "Ah!" She forgot about the porn show on the television screen and closed both eyelashes while feeling too many mixed emotional mind-blowing sensations of both pain and pleasure. Gerrit performed a set of deep thrusts with the penis. She lifted upright from the bed while feeling the set of painful penis plunge.

His naked chest dropped down and covered her body while forcing her lips back down to the bed linens. He hung over her body and grunted down into her eardrum with a steady beat of wild excited animal sounds. "Ugh! Ugh! Scream, Jo doll!"

"Ah!" Each powerful thrust of his dick made her experience dirty lust and dangerous pain.

He performed numerous thrusts in and out of her vagina with a set of heavy grunts. "Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Scream, Jo doll!"

"Ah!"

He performed more thrusts in and out of her vagina with a set of heavy grunts. "Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Scream, Jo doll!" She felt pain then pleasure, then lust, then love, and then exploded into an array of erotic dirty lust while blooding out a set of hot liquid that came from the vagina walls, forcing her female-ejaculation over his penis inside the vagina. Gerrit slowly performed a smaller amount of thrusts in and out of her vagina and as his penis slowly deflated inside her vagina while combining their sex juices over both their limbs and the bed linens. He slowly withdrew from her wet vagina and slammed a long body flat down on the top of her in both joy and exhaustion, resting over her sweaty body with a smile in the summertime heat of their shared first fuck. She smiled with delight.

Gerrit slide down and rolled over, resting on the back spine over the pillow and away from her in silence. She lifted up a smile to see the television screen. The young porn couple was still fucking on the television program. She slid backward and twisted around, landed a head on top of the she-pillow beside the he-pillow, smiling with a giggle at his nose profile with her first fun event with badass Gerrit. She was leaking vagina sex juice that came from the vagina over all the bed linens, exhaling with a smile and closing the eyelashes and enjoyed the moment.

His eyelids were closed and as he controlled the set of heavy chest breathes and wiped off the love sweat from a face, feeling both satisfaction and love. "Jo doll, do you remember when we played doctor inside your wooden playhouse behind the backyard that was beyond the patio table at your house? I finally got you to remove your purple tank top with the three rows of white silk bows and then my mama found us together. You were half naked. I was all male naked. Grr! Man! She whipped my ass with three different hickory switches, breaking them all over my blue jeans. I couldn't sit at the dinner table for two days. She fed me food meals from the breakfast bar."

She continued to rest a skull on top of the she-pillow with a pair of closed eyeballs. "Fucking liar! Your mama has never hit your ass with anything that includes a hickory switch. Geez! You didn't even know what a hickory switch looks like, Gerrit," she wiped off the love sweat from a face with a smile.

He smiled. "Hickory tree has branches. Branches fall out, get rotten, and then its births a hickory switch."

"So, what did your mama really do, after she found us naked and innocent?"

"She turned me over to my dad," Gerrit chuckled.

She grinned, "Alright! I have to know. What did your dad do to punish you?"

"He pulled out his wallet and gave me a single dollar. He told me for the next time to work my dirty hands faster and not my mouthy words while getting both your walking shorts and your girly panties off first. Then, he would give me a single ten-dollar bill," he laughed with a smile.

"Geez! You and your family are incorrigible."

"Hmm! That is a real fancy word, darling. What does it mean, Jo doll?" He stroked his elbow with a chuckle against her arm.

She opened the eyelashes and cutted her eyeballs with a gasp to see Gerrit. He was massaging his penis with a cupped hand. She grinned with a giggle. "What are your doing, Gerrit?"

"After the first explosion, I have to rev the engine for a second round, dear. It doesn't take long but there is some work. So I play with my little fellow," he gently strums the penis with a smile and hum of delight.

"I can't believe that you are playing with your selfie," she continued to watch Gerrit.

He enjoyed the personal masturbation while stroking his penis and opened the eyelids, cutting his eyeballs to see her grin. "You can play with your flower too. I like to watch. It gets me roused quicker. Grr!" She leaned back down on top of the she-pillow and closed both eyelashes, reliving inside her mind their first fuck, feeling the deep sensations of dirty lust and reached out, gently touching the pubic hair, twisting the soft curly hair around the fingers. He cut the eyeball down to see her vagina play while grunting, grinning, and drooling mouth spittle and as he continued to lightly stroke the penis coming from the bottom to the top with all fingers, "Go, Jo doll!"

"I am going, doing, feeling. Hmm!" She felt excited pleasure from her self-masturbating and then increased the finger thrusts into the vagina for more lustful hotness. She didn't felt the arm pain from his elbow punch either. She continued to finger fuck her vagina and opened the eyelashes cutting the eyelashes to see Gerrit. He smiled down at her finger fucking of her vagina. His penis was standing upright like a soldier attention again. She gasped in alarm. "Why did you stop playing your little fellow, Gerrit?"

He winked at her. "I'm about to explode onto my legs. You make me come fastest, only for you, Jo doll. So I stopped the rub on my little fellow and then the feeling goes away, settling down the growl like a wild tiger for the finally hunt. Grr!" He tenderly touched the elongated and engorged penis with a few fingers. "How are you doing over there, Jo doll?"

"I am almost there," she sounded with a set of heavy pants between the intense and quick two finger fuck thrusts.

He leaned over with a smile and crawled on top of her body, standing upright a pair of palms and a set of naked toes, leaning down and licked a tongue onto her parted lips, gently kissing her lips while blocking some of her breathing. "Breathe through your nose, Jo doll! So you don't faint. I will be really disappointed, since I plan to fuck you until dawn light, darling."

"You can go that long," she sounded with pants between the thrusts of pleasure with the fingers.

"I can with you, Jo doll. I like you, girl. Well, I love you, darling. You are my girl, Jo doll. You are not anyone else's girl, but mine," he leaned down and licked her earlobe, kissing the lobe, placing his finger into her vagina with her two fingers.

His fingers and her fingers together fingered fuck her vagina while creating intense passion, pleasantly excitement which built up into her second orgasm of the night. "Ah!" She screamed in dirty lust.

He leaned down and licked her ear, kissing the lobe with a smile, "Grr!" He chuckled at her great belle performance, reaching over and licked the middle of her sweaty forehead, gently kissing her pinky skin. Their fingers continued to slide in and out of her vagina. He smiled down at her smile. "Grr!"

"Ah!" She screamed in pleasure. The vagina walls burst in lubricating liquid spilling onto her flesh, flooding the fingers as the sex juice dripped out the vagina lips. She sounded with heavy pants of lusty pleasure without any pain while grinning and giggling with delight of her second orgasm. Gerrit chuckled at her great belle performance and leaned down, kissing her sweaty forehead and then her lips passionately. Then, he released her mouth and moved down, tickling her body with a tongue coming from her lips down to her vagina and bathed her body with his rough tongue. She felt clean and fresh with smile.

He lifted up a torso with a smile to see her. Jocelyn opened the eyelashes and lifted upright a torso from the pillow. He smiled. "I want you to slide forward facing my feet and then you're your body backward and hold onto my ankles with your long arms and ride my little fellow up and down with your vagina, Jo doll."

She scooted ahead and landed on top of his hips, arching the body and held both his ankles with a smile. "We call it, a flower."

"Fine, Jo, doll! It is time for me to plant some new seedlings into your rose flower garden. Bend at your knees over my hips." He reached out with a smile and touched her foot. "I'll tickle your feet while you fertilize my tree branch." She slowly slid the opening of her vagina down onto the tip of his penis that was filled with his man-juice and slowly shifted the hips back and forth for his pleasure. "Jo, doll," Gerrit smiled and rubbed both hands over her ass and her back spine.

"You like," she grinned.

"I like," he softly groans and grabbed both of her ankles while swiftly jolting his hips into her vagina.

She screamed with pleasure and pain. "Ah!"

He laughed with a grin, "Ride me, cowgirl! Ride me! Yahoo! Go, cowgirl!" She steadied both the hips into the air and slid back and forth over his penis. He shifted the hips up and down and as his penis slid in and out of her vagina using his ass and his leg muscles while yodeling his pleasure around the room. "You get a cute pinky-pink ass."

She laughed. "Thanks."

He smiled with a yell, "Yahoo! Go, Jo doll!"

They continued to bounce up and down with fun and pleasure.

Then, she felt the tickling sensation and exploded with a third orgasm inside her vagina, bleeding out a set of hot liquid that poured out from the vagina lips and then down both their inner thighs.

He gently tosses her off his penis, rolling her to the side of the bed. Gerrit withdrew the penis from her vagina and lifted her into the air, sliding a body behind her butt, nicely curving into her folded frame and messaged a wet sticky penis into her back spine which made her giggle. He spooned with her body and leaned down, kissing her butt cheekbone with a whisper, "Jo doll."

"Gerrit," she smiled in joy and lust at the tender loving moment.

He leaned over and penetrated her vagina from behind with a penis both slowly and gently. She closed both eyelashes and enjoyed a new sensation and tenderness from big bad asshole Gerrit.

They slowly moved in a synchronized flow of motion like a pair of long-time lovers.

He performed a set of gently thrusts in and then out, then in and then out while tenderly tickling one of her breasts with a set of fingers, resting sideways together on the bed mattress.

"Awe," she felt comfort in her life and her love, since this was supposed to be the way he honored her body and her mind. He reached down and lifted up her leg, shifting the limb over the top of her hip, driving a penis deeper into her vagina. "Ah!" She felt pleasure.

"Jo doll," he whispered into her ear and reached over, shifting a hand down into her vagina lips, gently finger fucking her vagina and kissed her earlobe, pulling back with a smile and a whisper, "Jo doll." She felt happy, lusty, dirty, and erotic coming from all his tenderly touches and gently words into her eardrum. Gerrit continued to whisper and rub her breast, slowly sliding in and then out with his penis.

Jocelyn felt sexy, wanted, and loved while reliving her deep emotions for Gerrit, since she had known the asshole all her life, but this moment felt right for both of them. He was pillow case fabric and she was the pillow case that was wrapped around each other without any type of restrictions or obligations or commitments.

His long body of six feet and eleven inches nicely wrapped around her tallness of six feet and one inch while spooning Jocelyn into his hard chest. His heart beat vibrated against her skin as they were one creature of pleasure. His hand gently massages each breast with tenderness, while his two fingers fuck my vagina. She giggled with the mental thoughts of her silly belle lusty lovey-dovey thoughts.

His man-strength dazzled her mind as he lifted both her hip with a knee and gently performed a set of soft thrusts with a penis deeply into her vagina while doing the work of two lovers.

She enjoyed the tactic contact, the soft touch, and the pleasure thrusts, since he tenderly protected Jocelyn from pain and harm, providing joy and pleasure like a trusty spouse.

"Jo doll," he leaned over and kissed her earlobe with the whisper of her "pet" name.

She enjoyed surrendering her pleasure for his love. Jocelyn never knew that sex could be so passionate and tender, since she had waited for the right moment and the right man.

Gerrit was twenty-four years old and would graduate from Bam U law school in May with the other invited beaus, since "cousin Jerk" had graduated Bam U law school in the summertime while socializing with the same cowboys.

A set of good beaus had been paired with a group of good belles.

Jocelyn hoped and prayed that all the other belles were enjoying their limited time with their selected beau too. She closed the eyelashes, and enjoyed the sensation of the erotic dirty lust.

Gerrit grunted which signaled his heightened pleasure and then exploded a batch of sperm out from his penis into her vagina. His hot toasty sperm warmed her inner flesh. He shivered against her wet skin with erotic lustiness and grunted with pleasure, withdrawing out the penis from her vagina with care. He flipped over and landed on a back spine in exhaustion and lust.

Jocelyn twisted around with a smile and reached out, rubbing his sweaty chest with both hands, leaning over into his elongated red tinted penis that came from their second and longer fucking fest in silence. He softly grunted, "Be gently." She leaned over the top of the penis and placed a mouth while consuming the roof, the tongue, and both cheeks of her inner mouth over his penis of seven inches in height and two inches in diameter. Gerrit laughed. "Sit up on your knees and lean down into my hips. You are going to need more room. Girls need big wide mouths to suck me, honey. But all these girls are gone now, Jo doll."

She followed his instructions and dipped both lips over the top of his penis, tickling the tip with the tongue as he chuckled. She swallowed down over his penis deeper into her mouth, licking a tongue up and down his dick while cleaning off her vagina juices. Gerrit grinned with a goofy smile at her motion. She quickly cleaned out his penis and lifted up a smile, twisting around, resting over his long nakedness, attacking his smile with her luscious lips. Her sweet tongue performed a set of thrusts back and forth for domination inside his mouth as she won. She stopped the tongue tag and pulled back with a smile and a wink.

He smiled at her, "Jo doll."

She loved to hear the pet name and leaned down, resting her sweat over his sweat with a giggle at her first fucking festival while her body continued to tingle with dirty lust inside her mind, her vagina, and her soul. "Hmm..."

"Jo doll, I'm going to leave."

She lifted up from his naked chest and sat back on both kneecaps, saying with a gasp into a pair of his dancing eyes and his evil smile. "Leave!"

"I'm going to depart from Antebellum House."

She gasped in shock. "Depart?"

"It's midnight! And like Cinder doll, I gotta leave or..."

"Tomorrow, at eight, after the service staff clears and cleans the kitchen. That was the deal without serving our breakfast meal to the beaus that you made with me in August."

"The deal is good. The limo will return at eight sharp but..."

"But?"

He leaned over and kissed her lips, pulling back with a smile and a wink, "Jo doll, come with me when the limo leaves."

"Me!" She frowned with confusion.

"We can catnap for two hours then fuck for an hour, then catnap for another couple of hours, then fuck again while making an entire weekend, a fucking fun time. Excuse the pun for the both of us!"

"I am..."

"...responsible for nothing, Jo doll. You're a big girl college student that can make big girl college decisions. Since, mama and daddy ain't here to overrule you. Come with me, please, Jo doll!"

"If I don't..."

"Then, I will be right back here on Friday night right on time like a good beau. I told you before you are mine. No one touches you. For damn shore, no one harms you, darling. You belong to me, now and forever."

Jocelyn felt the same way inside a bleeding heart, since he had spoken her exact mental thoughts with a smile inside his heart and his soul to his lover Jocelyn. She frowned. "We do nothing for the weekend..."

".... just fuck and sing into each other ears, Jo doll," he smiled with a wink.

"Yes," she leaned over and hugged his neck, pulling back and kissed his face, sitting back with a smile and a nod.

"Get dressed! Nothing fancy, now. We stay at the House for the weekend, swim in the pool, and call in for dinner and delivery pizza. There are plenty of beer and beverages."

"Rebel Den has all the beaus housed at their..."

"Rebel House is a real house with tables, chairs, dishes, and beds which is used by one beau with his belle in private to avoid the den of wolves. I would have to black and blue every redneck into total body bloody unconsciousness, if one of them growled at you, Jo doll."

She gasped. "You would fight for me."

He reached up and pinched both her nipples with a grunt and a smile. "For you, over you, under you, with you, you belong to me along with my twelve-gauge action pump shotgun."

She grinned. "And I strangely feel the same emotion about you, Gerrit, without a shotgun, dear."

"Yeah, it is called lusty love and hottie passion, Jo doll. Get up from my body! Go and toss on some jeans and shirt while I re-dress too."

She rolled off him and slipped down off the bed mattress, dashing ahead into the wardrobe closet, stopping and stood in front of the shelves of clothing. She selected a new pair of girly panties for a wet vagina, jerking down a blue jean skirt from the rack and up over a pair of wet legs, until she could bathe...correction...they could bathe together, tonight.

She reached up and pulled down, dropping a white T-shirt over a pair of naked breasts, without the bra, since she didn't really need a bag of clothes, but she was required to be seen outside public area with her man-whore protector. She back stepped from the wall shelves and spun around with a smile, dashing out the closet without anything in both hands, since she had heard through the internet gossip about Rebel House. A girl had everything there including a hair brush, a tooth brush, and a tongue of a beau to keep her clean and sanitize. She stepped a pair of naked feet into a pair of flip-flops and then into a pair of his open arms with a grin in silence.

He cuddled her with a smile. "Do you have everything that you need, Jo doll?"

She turned with a smile to scan the bedroom. There was a flattened and dirty antebellum dress on top of the floor, a messed up bed mattress from sex, a shuffled television monitor on top of the student desk, one empty beer bottle on top of the nightstand, and a wrinkled brown bag inside the bathroom. She returned back with a nod to see his smile. "Yes." She spun around with a smile and cuddled into his chest, moving ahead to the closed door. He reached out and touched the door knob. The door opened.

They swiftly exited her bedroom and moved down the staircase, sliding out into the heated dark night. The bedroom door slowly closed up the chamber for the night.

They swiftly strolled like a newly married couple towards an awaiting limousine, stealing the night away from Antebellum House.
Five weeks later...

Saturday September 7th

Cool temperatures with parted clouds of light rain

Private bedroom setting

Belle Mary Margaret and beau Tucker

A single knock sounded at the closed door of her bedroom.

Mary Margaret pitched the new romance book onto the cushion of the settee, since the settee wasn't used or her body or the book to fuck her assigned beau. She stood upright from the settee with a giggle and skipped ahead on a pair of naked feet towards the closed door, stopping and stood in front of the closed door with a grin. She reached over and pulled opened door with a smile at a set of new visitors, who stood taller than her petiteness. From left to the right, starting with Trinity's Stan, then belle Trinity, who cuddled with Jocelyn for some strange reason, and finally there stood Jocelyn's Stan. All the girls were not supposed to know anything about the fucking beaus that they had fucked.

However, over the past several weeks, the other girls liked to hot gossip about all the physical features of each beau along with an array of sexual conquests of each sexy beau-boyfriend in great disgusting detail at the morning breakfast table. Therefore, Mary Margaret recognized each particular beau, without a proper surname by his physical appearance.

At the open archway, Mary Margaret back stepped from door and the new guests with a stern face.

Trinity's Stan entered first through the open archway with a sneer and strutted ahead in a pair of orange colored ostrich cowboy boots and a set of wrinkled clothes, stopping and stood in front of the bed mattress, pointing at Mary Margaret's Stan. Tucker was neatly tucked inside her bedcovers this morning like usual. Mary Margaret back stepped and stood at the foot of the bed mattress with a smile like usual.

He growled with confusion. "What in the fuck is this in here?" Jocelyn's Stan stood his tallness outside the open archway on top of the grand stairwell, clearly staring with a sleepy head Tucker.

Tucker wore a soiled pink bed linen sheet where his multiple wet dreams had exploding a batch of hot sperm from the penis while tucked neatly inside Mary Margaret's bed.

Mary Margaret continued to stand at the foot of the bed and crossed both arms over a top of pink poodle-dog patterned pajamas while watching the same old routine for the past eight weeks with a smirk.

Trinity and Jocelyn together continued to stand inside the open archway huddling and hugging each other like a pair of love birdies. Trinity displayed a pair of angry eyeballs with a sneer at tiny Mary Margaret.

Mary Margaret did not react but remained calm like the first Saturday morning from their first "after-not-fucking" party when she had left her bedroom and then had to fetch Trinity's Stan to lift and tote a heavy-ass Tucker out of her bed mattress, her private bedroom, and down into the limousine that came from Rebel Den.

"Every damn Saturday morning, Tuck is out of it and sound asleep in bed. I have been carrying his ass like a fireman going down the stairs on my shoulders for the past eight weeks, dumping his ass down inside the limo, Gerrit. And I could have used some help. So, where in the hell have you been for the last eight Saturdays, Gerrit?" He looked back over a collar bone with a sneer to see Jocelyn and then returned back with a growl to see Tucker. "Slap his face awake, Gerrit!"

"I'll do more than slap his face." Gerrit moved ahead with a sneer and scattered the six empty beer cans over the floor and stopped with a growl, standing in front of the bed frame, reaching down and shook Tucker. "Boy, get your ass out of bed right now! It's after eight o'clock. It's time to get up and go back to Rebel Den! I'm hunger for some breakfast."

Tucker slowly rolled a chin side to side and as his eyelids blinked open with a soft grunt. A set of four limbs lifted and wiggled in the air, falling back down onto the soft mattress with a set of individual loud thumps. His eyeballs stared up at the bright lighted ceiling and then closed the eyelids from the bright day. Gerrit exhaled with a huff of frustration. Mary Margaret stared with a smile at Tucker. Trinity stared at the nose profile of Mary Margaret in confusion and fury.

Trinity's Stan jabbed a finger and a sneer at Tucker. "Every stinking Saturday morning, he's drunk, like this, Gerrit." Mary Margaret learned that Jocelyn's Stan was named Gerrit.

"Call me a second limo! Then I'll haul his ass to the limo, Hudson. Get all the other beaus back home to the Rebel Den." Gerrit reached over and lifted up the wet pink tinted bed sheet while looking with a pair of trained eyeballs for any type of external body injury on his friend Tucker.

"Tuck is naked underneath that bed sheet. The other beaus are gone inside the first limo. There's a second limo waiting for us. I'm riding with you, so we can talk to Tuck away from the other guys." Trinity's Stan was really named Hudson, exhaling with a huff of frustration.

"Fine! Get and gather his gear, too." Gerrit jerked the pink bed sheet from the mattress and then wrapped the naked penis on Tucker while exposing Tucker's naked collar bone and chest to the air waves and the eyeballs, squatting down and shoved Tucker onto the shoulder in a fireman's carry as it was the easiest way to distribute the weight of a 250-pound male. "Fuck!" He slowly back stepped from the bed mattress with a heavy grunt and then more slowly turned to face the open archway and the two females. Mary Margaret squatted down to the floor and grabbed up, handing the small bag to Hudson that held the personal clothes of Tucker which was the same ritual for the last eight Saturdays also. Trinity and Jocelyn back stepped from the open archway and led down the steps. Hudson swung around and followed behind Gerrit with Tucker on top of the shoulders. Gerrit exited the room and slowly moved down the staircase, heading towards the front porch with the awaiting limousine.

Front porch setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunlight

Gerrit continued move ahead on top of the wooden planks, around the building corner and passed the array windows on the belle parlor room and turned, strolling down each step with a semi-conscious Tucker against the limousine. Hudson ran ahead, down the steps, and swung around in front of the limousine, stretching out both arms and stopped the inertia of Gerrit with the teen on top of the collar bone. Gerrit slammed into the frontal body of Hudson in front of the limousine with a loud grunt. He and Hudson leaned down and stretched Tucker across the long bench seat inside limousine. Hudson scooted across the long bench and stood upright on the opposite side door at the limousine.

Gerrit stood upright with a deep sigh and spun around, moving back up the steps with a worried brow to face Jocelyn. She reached over and folded the bathrobe over the pajamas with a worried brow. He stopped and stood in place of her, leaning over, kissing her lips with precious love, pulling back with a sweet smile.

Jocelyn whispered with a worried brow into his nose bridge. "I need to speak with you in private, Gerrit."

"It cannot be now. I gotta a problem with Tuck that needs attending to this morn. He doesn't usually get wasted on cans of beer. This is so strange." Gerrit turned with a worried brow to see Tucker inside the open limo door while pondering the medical problem of his friend within the active neurons.

She whispered with a smile into his cheekbone. "I can ride in the limo..."

"That's not a good idea at the moment."

"I can run my car over to Rebel Den and then I meet you for lunch." Jocelyn smiled.

He swung a stern face to see her smile, "That is not a good idea either at the moment, Jo doll! I'm like the pack leader of the wolves. When there's a problem, I handle it. I need to handle Tuck and find out what in the fuck's wrong with him."

She faked a smile. "I understand. Well then, we'll meet for lunch and supper. Why don't we go out on the town into Birmingham for...?"

He shook a balding skull with a worried brow at her, "Naw, Jo doll! But I do need your help here. Where is his belle, that cute petite girl named Mary Margaret?" He turned and scanned the front porch for the petite belle and returned back to see Jocelyn.

"Alright! She is probably inside her private bedroom. She is really shy."

"I need for you to play the role of a police detective and find out Tuck's routine with his belle. See if he exhibits any other weird habits or some odd words with her? Interrogative her good, Jo doll! Since, she is the only one that sees him between six pm to six am."

She gasped. "Do you suspect Mary Margaret of something odd like something?"

"Naw! I am curious like a cat, since Tuck might be having an allergic reaction to her flora perfume or some other sweet or bitter potted flowers or other smelly fragrance inside her private bedroom. Tuck looks more like he is stoned on marijuana pot. Does she smoke marijuana pot? Or can she access the drug?"

She shook her curls with a stern face, "Absoultootly not! I would swear on a stack of Bibles that Mary Margaret's straight-laced with flowing silk fabric down to her ankle bones."

"That's good to hear. I trust the source." He leaned over and kissed her, pulling back with a smile. "I want you to write down all her verbal statements on a sheet of paper in front of the other belles. When a person is innocent, they repeat the truth over and over again all the time. But when a person is guilty, they mess up their same story with little bites and bits of datum that's missed or added. If she is interviewed with the other belles, then she can bore them to death at breakfast and at lunch too."

"I understand," Jocelyn nodded with the legal understanding and the smart order from Gerrit.

"And ask her the same questions at the lunch meal too? See if she answers exactly the same way? And do note any incongruence in her story line, Jo doll!"

"I will. How do and when will you get my report to you on Mary Margaret?"

He smiled with a whisper. "This is too important to wait for next week, since I'm the wolf leader. So, me and all the other beaus will come back here for suppertime. Then I can read you report, interrogate Mary Margaret for myself, since Tuck will be awake and sober. I will get his story and then compare to the little belle and hopefully find some common clues. Then, we can talk," he leaned over and kissed her lips, pulling back with a smile. "Okay." Jocelyn leaned over and hugged his body, pulling with a smile of her loving feelings. Hudson hugged and back stepped from Trinity with a smile, spinning around and dashed around, stopping and slid into the rear bench seat with Gerrit. The rear limousine door closed with a good wave from the two men. The limousine slowly steered ahead and then disappeared through the gate. The doors of the gates stayed open without a reason.

On the front porch, Trinity moved ahead with a stern face from the windows of the belle parlor and stopped to stare at the open gates while missing Hudson, standing beside Jocelyn, wearing a yellow pajamas robe over her nakedness. "This isn't a good timing, Jocelyn. I don't understand Tucker's behavior. He comes here sober and then doesn't wake from his stupid drunkenness. I'm a little concerned for Mary Margaret. Actually, I'm really relieved that she hasn't been harmed. I think we should reject Tucker's invitation for next Friday along with the rest of the Fridays for Mary Margaret's safety."

She stared at the open gates also with a stern face "Gerrit says the opposite from you. He says that Tucker doesn't get drunk from beer, but he suspects that Tucker is being drugged, maybe by Mary Margaret."

She stared at the open gates with a sour frown. "That's impossible, Jocelyn. Mary Margaret doesn't harm a housefly. Now, if Chloe's name was mentioned in that same sentence," giggling. "I'd concur with that wild ass conclusion."

Jocelyn turned with a worried brow to see the nose profile of Trinity. "Gerrit wants me to inquire from Mary Margaret her side of Tucker's drunkenness story. I believe that to be a reasonable request. She has not contributed at the breakfast table to our discussion."

Trinity turned with a sour frown and jabbed a manicured fingernail into the nose bridge of Jocelyn. "Be careful here, honeybee! You have not contributed on the past eight Saturday mornings either, because I only know why. You were with Gerrit for the entire weekend, for the past eight weekends having fun fucking him, while I'm left in charge of the whining bitches," exhaling.

"Emma leaves on Saturday morning..."

"Emma leaves on Saturday morning after being served breakfast to meet her parents for that social thingy." Trinity nodded with a sour frown. "However, you leave on Friday night right after your fuck fest."

"I am guilty as claimed but I don't awaken to a zombie beau, who is most likely being drugged with something thing by someone."

Trinity shook her curls with the sour frown. "That is a very strong accusation, Jocelyn. Mary Margaret has never posed any danger to us or the beaus. I don't believe that horse crap."

"Ah! But Mary Margaret is very intelligent. Her brilliant parents are physicians. She might, just guessing here, could have picked up some innocent but minor illegal doctoring skills which might, just guessing here, could be experimenting on Tucker."

Trinity exhaled, "Hmm! She is a smartie and a smartass with that goody angel innocence face. Okay. I agree that she could have acquired some illegal doctoring skills from her physician parents. But why and what for?"

"Mary Margaret resisted our cause, our sisterhood from the first. Maybe, she is seeking some devilette revenge on us by using it on Tucker."

"Hmm! That's a very good point. She could be doing that. Do we ask her that direct guilty question inside your private chamber suite?"

"Yes and no. We slowly and brilliantly interrogate her at the breakfast table with the help of the other belles. Hell! They're more curious than we are."

Trinity exhaled, "Hmm! She has avoided all together sharing her fucking fairy tale story of Tucker, while the other belles almost exaggerate to the point of me hurling a gallon of puke green vomit. And if Chloe starts in with her fifth orgasm of the night, before the turn of..."

She lifted up and flipped down a hand into the air with a smile. "Forget Chloe! She bullshits with the best bitches on planet Earth. However, we have two problems to take care of as soon as possible. Or we all will crash and burn like a rocket space."

"Agreed," Trinity nodded. "And how are you going to explain your belle absenteeism from the Saturday morning fuck club."

"Fuck club! That's good." Jocelyn laughed with a nod.

"It is Bethel's branding, since she likes to lead off the fucking discussion every damn Saturday morning, whilest I try to choke down my cold scramble eggs." Trinity exhaled.

She nodded with a smile. "I have a brilliant plan. So just watch me lead the other belles with sugared sweet tea, honey child," she spun around and veered back towards her private bedroom suite on the other side of the building with a smile.

Trinity continued to stand and pointed at the Dogtrot hallway with a sour frown. "We still eat breakfast, lunch, and supper meals inside the dining room, Jocelyn."

Jocelyn moved ahead with a smile. "I need a pit-stop and get props for my Hollywood Oscar film winning performance at the breakfast table, sweetheart," she turned the building corner and dashed towards her private bedroom. Trinity spun around and followed behind Jocelyn with a puzzled brow.

08:16 a.m.

Dining room setting

Trinity and Jocelyn had quickly revisited the private bedroom suite of Jocelyn, returning back down the staircase, around the building corner and arrived inside the Dogtrot Hallway.

Trinity led Jocelyn through the open archway of the dining room and turned to face the wall of long food table, stopping and stood in front of the first food table. She reached out and grabbed an empty plate, side stepping down the wall and loaded an array of breakfast food items onto the eating place with a smile.

Jocelyn duplicated Trinity's movements and stopped, standing next to Trinity at the end of the table with a loaded plate of food, placing a buttered buttermilk biscuit on the very top of a tall food pile and slowly swung around to follow behind Trinity, slowly strolling in a pair of bedroom slippers towards a rounded breakfast table.

On the opposite of the side of the table, Bethel sat inside a padded chair and looked up with a sour frown to see Jocelyn while continuing the story. "We were grooving in a fast paced rhythm. I was thumping up and down like a kangaroo. Up. Down. Up. Down. Then, I upped so high that my flower missed his stinger when I landed down on the right side of the bed in total shock. Stan shot his sperm two feet into the air. It was a beauty sight. We laughed and laughed, until we cried, and then calmed down. Then we went into sequence number three and then number four..."

Trinity slowly spun around and moved ahead, stopping and scooted down into the chair behind the table, placing the cloth napkin on top of the robe, stabbing the food items in silence.

Jocelyn stopped and leaned over, placing the plate on top of the table, pulling out and slid down into the padded chair, turning to scan all the girls inside the room with a confused brow. "Where's Chloe?"

Zoey sat next to Jocelyn and turned with a sour frown to see the nose profile of Jocelyn without chewing the food. "Where have you been hiding out, girl best?" She lifted and sipped, swallowing the beverage with a smile.

"Chloe is always later like a whore-princess or something." Tyleigh mouth spat out a set of used food particles over the plate and the tablecloth with a sour frown to Jocelyn.

Zoey continued to smile at the nose profile of Jocelyn. "Why have you been missing from our morning Fuck Club, Jocelyn?"

"Tell us your fucking tale, Jocelyn!" Naomi stared with a smile at Jocelyn also.

Bethel frowned at Jocelyn. "I didn't wanna hear her fucking story. But I do wanna hear the fucking reason for missing eight Saturdays in a row. Huh, Jo dog? Could it be? There is something more important going on than attending our weekly breakfast meeting."

"Bethel!" Trinity looked up with an angry brow from the food plate to see Bethel.

"Me, too," Zoey continued to smile at the nose profile of Jocelyn.

"Zoey!" Trinity turned and frowned at Zoey.

"I heard tell that you left out from Antebellum House every Saturday morning." Bethel hissed with fury.

Jocelyn nodded with a smile. "Yes, I do," she looked down and stabbed the food item, chewing with a smile as the other girls gasped with alarm.

"I heard tell that you leave out from Antebellum House with your beau Stan," Bethel growled.

She swallowed the food with a smile. "Yes, I do," Jocelyn looked down and stabbed the food time, chewing with a grin as the other girls gasped with alarm.

"What of it? Emma has missed every consecutive seven Saturday mornings in a row, too." Tyleigh turned and frowned at the nose profile of Emma.

"Emma attends a social function with her mom and her dad every Saturday morning, after her breakfast with each one of you." Emma defended her own person like a true lawyer with a nod, eating and chewing the food with a grin.

"Why are you inquiring or interrogating me, Bethel?" Jocelyn looked up with a smile to see Bethel.

"Why are you not denying, Jocelyn?" Bethel smirked.

Jocelyn smiled with a nod, "Yes, I leave every morning in one of the many rented limos and then ride into the metro city of Birmingham." She ate and chewed the food item with a grin.

Bethel frowned. "Why, Jocelyn?"

Jocelyn swallowed the food item with a smile at Bethel while placing a hand down into the pocket of the bathrobe, slowly lifting up and released a wad of green paper. The paper flew and scatted around the wooden table. She smiled. "Our collection is cash. I go to the bank every Saturday morning to deposit that weekly cash." Bethel stood upright from the chair and reached over the table, grabbing and scooped up all the individual money bills into both breasts. She sat back down and silently counted all the monies for verification of Jocelyn's story. Jocelyn chewed and swallowed the food with a smile. "I receive cash. I have set up a bank account for the cash in the name of Antebellum House. Since cash is recorded and monitored by the US Federal Government through a government agency which is known as the IRS."

Bethel nodded with a stern face at the pile of cash. "I counted out the money amount of 5,250 dollars and no cents. It has been verified with the correct amount from the collection of the beaus last night," she started to spread and lay out the money in a set of vertical rows consisting of twenties, fifties, and hundred dollar bills for all eyeballs.

Jocelyn ate and chewed, swallowing the food with a smile to each girl. "The IRS revenue code 18, section number 1956 states that a single monetary transaction dumped into a financial institution of cash valued at $10,000 or more is a single transaction. The terms monetary transaction and financial institution mean a deposit, a withdrawal, a transfer from an interstate, or a set of foreign commerce funds by a monetary instrument, that's me, into a financial institution. This is a financial transaction, by me. Thus, all the monies are recorded and sent electronically to the IRS for monitoring, not on me."

"Jocelyn is a smartie." Trinity nodded with a smile.

"Jocelyn is a smartass," Bethel continued to fiddle with a money rows and laughed with the other belles, except for Trinity and Jocelyn.

Jocelyn smiled. "I am required to deposit the monies as cash. Since, I didn't steal the cash from a bank or my daddy's wall safe. Next, I place all the cash into our bank account for Antebellum House. The bank reports the monetary fees to the IRS while makes me a busy little bee. Buzz! Buzz!" Bethel finished stacking the money and looked up with a growl at Jocelyn, since there was a lot more secret information to that simple fairy tale. Jocelyn ate, chewed, and swallowed the food time with a grin. "How is the fucking action going with each belle?" She spooned the food item and ate, chewing with a set of elegantly southern manners while pulling out a small paper notepad and a blue ink pen out from the bathrobe pocket, sitting the two items beside her plate. She reached down and flipped open the vertical flap of the tiny notepad, swallowing the food in silence.

"Fantastic." Tyleigh smiled.

Spring smiled, "Awe..."

"...some," Autumn smiled and turned to feed Spring a spoonful of food as the other girls chuckled.

"Great." Naomi stared with a smile at the hair roots of Jocelyn, who started to write down a set of words with the blue ink pen inside the little note pad.

"Happy." Zoey stared at the hair roots of Jocelyn also.

"What are you doing, Jocelyn," Bethel stared with a sour frown at the note paper and the pen in the hand of Jocelyn.

Emma stared with a smile at Jocelyn, who scribbles down the words on a next page of paper inside the notebook, "Wonderful."

"Alright," Mary Margaret attacked the hard shell of a soft boiled egg with all fingers. The stubborn chicken egg would not yield its delicious white skin. She also noted Jocelyn, who was writing a set of printed words in blue tinted ink inside a pad of paper with a little concern. Her beau Tucker has been drugged and dragged out from her bed chamber for the past eight Saturday mornings, without any type of explanation or demand. But, this eighth morning, Gerrit, who was the wolf leader, did not look happy at Tucker as he quickly cut back a pair of eyelids to see Mary Margaret while fuming with a pair of parted lips with purpose and doubt.

"Alright!" Jocelyn looked down with a puzzled brow to see Mary Margaret. "Is that the best performance you get from your beau, Mary Margaret?"

"It is probably the best sex performance that tiny Mary Margaret gives out. Am I right, girl best?" Naomi turned and winked at Mary Margaret. "I'll trade you my cowboy for your bronzed sun-god."

"What?" Bethel dropped her mouth open.

Naomi winked for a second time at Mary Margaret. "Or better yet, you send your bronzed sun-god over when you're done on next Friday evening. Then, I can test out that 'alright' expression."

"Naomi is a true whore." Zoey smiled with a nod.

Jocelyn frowned down at the white tinted middle part of the hair on Mary Margaret hair, since Mary Margaret continue to fight with the hard-boiled egg shell. Jocelyn exhaled. "Alright, the word seems to be a weak performance on someone's part. Do you care to share any sexual problems with your beau around the table? The other belles could offer some sisterly advice, Mary Margaret."

"Fuck you, Jocelyn!" Bethel frowned at Jocelyn. "Why are you being nosey, Jocelyn? What is your paper game here?"

Jocelyn looked down with a smile at the paper and wiggled the ink pen in the air. "I was asked to provide a few sweet or sour notes about our Fuck Fest. What is your personal comment, Bethel?"

"For you to fuck off, Jocelyn! You ain't been present for the past eight weeks in the Fuck Club. Then, you come in here today barking orders like a mama dog at me and then ripping on tiny Mary Margaret's good southern manners." Bethel sneered.

"Yeah, Jocelyn!" Zoey sneered.

"I follow the rules like you, Bethel." Jocelyn looked down and wrote the single-word remarks coming from the belles. She wrote the word, alright, next to the name of Mary Margaret which appeared in a set of big and bold blue capital letters for Gerrit's inspection. "And I'm being a good belle providing a simple request. What is your lovely or nasty comment, Bethel?"

"Fuck off." Bethel looked down with a snarl and a sour frown at the plate of food.

Jocelyn smiled with a nod and wrote down the word next to Bethel's name. "Alright! I will write that remark down by your name, Bethel. But you should expect a question or two from..."

"Gerrit, why is he the big man around here at Antebellum House? He ain't no belle. And he is not a student at Burn U either." Bethel frowned.

Jocelyn looked up with a stern face to see each belle. "I'd remind each one here that this is a business transaction. The beaus are the clients and we are the..."

"Whores! I know that, since I lost my virginity too. We all know that Jocelyn. You don't have to come in here and remind us of our goal, saving Antebellum House with money. My mom would be ashamed of me." Emma lifted up and sipped, swallowing the beverage.

"I don't understand, Jocelyn. My beau, he is cute and sweet and nice to me on Friday night. He even wants to see me on Saturday night, Sunday night, and the rest of the nights of the week." Naomi smiled.

"My beau asks about more time with me on Saturday night, too. Why can't they come on Saturday night, also, Jocelyn?" Zoey smiled.

"Because, Jo thinks that she is our belle boss, but she ain't." Bethel smirked.

Jocelyn showed a stern face and lifted a palm with the dangling ink pen. "Okay. I'm not the belle boss over each one of you. But I have the right connection with the beau boss, whose name is Gerrit. Gerrit has inquired to see to monitor if there is any tiny dissatisfaction from us. Are there any issues with you regarding your selected beau?" She turned and stared at the black colored hair roots of Mary Margaret. "That's all I'm asking about here."

Mary Margaret continued to peck at the boiled egg with all fingers without looking at Jocelyn.

"Naw," Naomi smiled.

"No," Zoey smiled.

"Not," Spring smiled.

"...us," Autumn grinned.

"No," Emma grinned.

"Naw," Trinity said with a stern and watched each girl.

Bethel frowned. "Hmm! A set of research studies have proven that females are the ones satisfied with their mates. It is the male that looks to roam when not completely fulfilled. So it makes me ponder, if Gerrit is searching for another filly in the meadows, since he ain't full satisfied with his selected belle."

Mary Margaret popped open the egg with a giggle and then at the meat, since she would see every evening. Both Jocelyn and Gerrit escaped together inside the limousine from Antebellum House while heading to their usual place at Rebel House. Bethel was jealous over the young love birds.

Jocelyn stood upright with a sour frown and a yell at Bethel. "Bullshit!" The other girls laughed.

Naomi grinned. "It is cowboy shit. Am I right, Jocelyn? I guess you can't really satisfy big boy Gerrit, even if you are fucking him two nights per week."

"Shut it, Naomi!" Jocelyn snarled.

"O. I believe that she is sensitive," Zoey giggled.

Naomi smiled. "She is insensitive. I do believe is the aft description. I would like to try...naw...taste on Gerrit, too, darling."

"Fuck you, Naomi!" Jocelyn tossed both hands into the air and forgot about her police detective assignment from Gerrit, since she was defending her man Gerrit against all the other vicious vamps at Antebellum House.

Bethel smiled. "Well now, I guess that we understand the reason for the nasty belle inquisition."

"Sit down, Jocelyn." Trinity reached over with a stern face and pulled down on the robe sleeve of Jocelyn. Jocelyn sat back down with a sneer at Bethel. Trinity exhaled. "Now, we have cleared the discussion of belle dissatisfaction from Antebellum House. But, I want to share that I have been informed with the unpleasant knowledge that one of the beaus is not happy. We are the whores. We need the money to save our house. So let me hear any negative comments that you want to share with the class! Let us start with Bethel!"

"Fuck you, Trinity and Jocelyn." Bethel sneered. "I'm perfect. My beau is perfect. We are perfect together. As a matter of fact, I heard those exact words every Friday evening and Saturday morning. So, find another tree to piss on, puppy doggie!"

Naomi smiled. "I have heard the very same words as Bethel coming from my beau, too."

"Me," Spring smiled.

"...too," Autumn smiled who same mental thoughts about their shared beau named Stan.

Zoey frowned. "Tell us the complaint or identify the complainette, Trinity. Let's end this mind game, Jocelyn. Or tattle tale to us which belle doesn't enjoy fucking their beau? Since, they're all cute, to boot."

"That's not a word, Zoey, complainette?" Trinity frowned at Zoey.

"Yeah, it is the female version for a complainer." Zoey giggled.

"We're all novices at fucking a guy, Jocelyn." Tyleigh frowned at Trinity.

Bethel turned and gasped at her friend. "Tyleigh, I can't believe that you don't enjoy fucking your beau."

"How many masturbation sessions do you need, girlfriend?" Naomi giggled.

Zoey smiled. "It's easy, Tyleigh. Open your legs and close your eyes."

Bethel smiled. "Is that your fucking advice for love-making with a beau, Zoey?"

Naomi nodded with a smile, "That same method works for me."

"Do you have a complaint with me, Trinity?" Emma looked down with a stern face the tiny screen on the mobile telephone while waiting and watching for the text message that would come from her parents to meet at the charity event in Birmingham this morning. "Because, I need to go and meet my parents."

"Your cell didn't ding." Zoey frowned.

Emma nodded at the tiny screen with a smile. "I know. My mom sometimes forgets to plug the recharge cord into her cell phone. Geez! She still mentally lives in the 1980s when there were only landlines, not mobile telephones."

Bethel smiled, "Where are you going today, Emma?"

"There is a picnic in the park for children." Emma reached down with a stern face and typed on the tiny keyboard a text to her parents.

"No. I do not have a complaint with you, Emma. You're excused from the breakfast table." Trinity smiled at Emma and took charge as the belle boss. Emma stood upright from the chair and back stepped from the table, spinning around and watched the tiny screen for a return text message from her parents.

"I'm excused, too." Bethel stood upright from the chair with a smile and sat back down into the padded chair. "But I'm staying here, since I wanna hear the hot juicy gossip."

"You're sick both mentally and socially, Bethel." Zoey frowned.

"Thank you!" Bethel smiled with a nod.

"Fess up! Which belle sucks at fucking?" Zoey smiled.

"Not," Spring grinned.

"....me." Autumn giggled.

"No." Tyleigh shook her curls with a smile.

Naomi smiled, "Me, either."

Bethel turned and scanned each belle, "Nope!"

"I'm great. Go and ask my date!" Zoey giggled. Mary Margaret shook her curls in silence and chewed on the boiled egg parts.

"Who's left?" Naomi turned with a puzzled brow and scanned the table.

"Who's absent?" Bethel turned with a puzzled brow and scanned the table also.

"It's Chloe." Zoey turned and gasped at each girl.

Tyleigh shook her curls with a puzzled brow, "No way, girl best! She is one of the best whore-belles among us."

"I question that since she is not present among us." Zoey frowned.

Bethel grinned. "Chloe is sleeping off both the sex and the beer. She likes to drink alcohol."

"How do you know that, Bethel? Because we don't share that shared information, girl best." Naomi frowned.

Bethel looked down with a stern face at the dirty plate and up to see each girl. "I...I ran into her when I ran down here for some extra bottles of beer for my beau inside the kitchen."

Trinity jabbed a finger and sour frown at Bethel. "So, you are the mysterious kitchen thief. The staff was questioning me, Bethel. Geez! Next time, you need to request a larger order, before my ass gets burned for a third time. Where is Chloe?" She turned to see the Dogtrot hallway with a sour frown. "She is getting the same lecture from me."

"Call her on the cell!" Zoey smiled.

"I don't bring my cell to breakfast table, Zoey. Do you?" Naomi frowned.

"O!" Zoey smiled.

Emma appeared inside the archway and stumbled inside the room in a pair of expensive designer heels, moving back towards the dining room with an open mouth of spit and drool, looking gray-ashen complexion in the face. She stumbled and stopped between Trinity and Jocelyn with a whisper and a worried brow. "O my gawd! Oh, my gawd! Chloe is not moving. She...she is dead."

Naomi smiled, "Chloe is dead to the world. She always enjoys her Fuck Fest way too much along with her way too much fucking fairy tales. Do you really believe that she can fuck by standing on her head, Zoey?"

Emma exhaled. "No! Chloe is not asleep. Well, she is permanently asleep. Chloe is dead like a door nail. And there is a puddle of red blood like all over her and the bed spread. That is not her monthly period red blood puddle, either."

Zoey stood upright from the chair with shock and intrigue. "O my gawd! Let's go and see Chloe."

Tyleigh continued to sit with a smile. "Chloe is faking it. She likes to truly entertain us every Saturday morn with something new. This is her new trick like an old whore, ya'll."

Jocelyn shook her curls and continued to write down each verbal remark from each girl on the top of the notepad. "Emma, do not tattle! Since I will allow your beau to beat your ass for a fibbing tonight," she was going to provide all the bell secrets to Gerrit upon his return visit to Antebellum House.

Bethel stood upright from the chair with a gasp and mentally pondered the medical condition of Chloe's mind and body, picking up on that cue from Jocelyn, "Tonight, why are the beaus returning tonight, Jocelyn?" She back stepped from the table and side stepped, moving ahead towards the open archway that led into the Dogtrot hallway.

Zoey stood upright from the chair and back stepped from the table, following beside Bethel with a smile. "The beaus are coming back to visit us tonight, but this is Saturday night, not Friday."

"Why are all the beaus coming back to visit with us, tonight, Jocelyn?" Naomi stood upright from the chair and back stepped from the table, following behind Bethel and Zoey.

Jocelyn stood upright with a smile from the chair and placed the paper notepad and the ink pen down into the pocket for more spy notes, after visiting inside Chloe's bedroom, back stepping from the table, side stepping and spun around with a smile to see the rear bathrobe of each girl and the open archway of the dining room. "They wanna give us more money, so we can provide more sex," giggling.

Spring and her twin sister Autumn moved ahead arm-in-arm towards the archways. Spring smiled, "I'm...."

"...happy," Autumn smiled.

Each female exited out from the dining room with a smile, strolled down the Dogtrot hallway, swung onto the front porch, strolling in front of the open funny window curtains of the belle parlor room. All eyeballs turned and scanned the interior of the parlor room while searching for a floating formation of a she-ghost, since the staircase was really haunted with a set of supernatural beings. Each female passed the parlor room and paced ahead, turning the corner, moving down the side of the building and swung onto the grand staircase, advancing up the steps to Chloe's bedroom.

Emma led the group of females from the dining room and finally up the elegant staircase, stopping and stood in front of a partially open archway, pointing between the cracks of the door and the door frame in silence. Then, she slowly shoved the heavy door opened and disappearing into the room. Bethel, Zoey, Emma climbed up the staircase in silence and followed Emma through the open door. The bedroom of Chloe faced in green rolling hills of the valley which was below the room of Zoey room.

A few minutes early, Emma had quietly knocked on the wooden door while checking on the absent Chloe from the breakfast table and then she had entered into the quiet room with curiosity. She had found poor Chloe, wearing a set of bull-frog eyeballs and a red bloody body. Next, Emma had back stepped from the bed frame, slamming the door open with an ass, running away from the dead body. She had trotted straight down the belle staircase onto the floor without a she-ghost attack. Maybe, one of the she-ghosts had attacked Emma, but she had been too scared to notice any frosty chilly finger pads.

Then, she had dashed into the dining room, crying to Jocelyn about poor dead Chloe.

Private bedroom of Chloe

The other pair of colorful fuzzy bed slippers from the remaining females entered through the open archway and stopped, forming a semi-circle around the dragging exposed pink satin bed sheets on the bed mattress. A set of worried brows stared at the twisted body dead Chloe, who was obviously not moving or breathing.

Chloe rested flat on a back spine. Her face stared up at the ceiling like asleep. She was completed naked with a pair of eyelashes shut. Her right arm was bent backward at the elbow crook, tilting in the letter shape of 'L' and her left arm displayed in the shape of the letter 'V.' Both of her legs were bent sideways at each kneecap while pointing at one of the side walls. Her naked feet touched at each heel and sole like a weird-ass ballerina dance in death. Finally, there was a white piece of notebook paper that had been directly stabbed into the heart of Chloe on the left side.

"O my gawd!" Naomi back stepped from the bed frame with a scream and covered the mouth with both hands in fear and worry, staring at dead Chloe.

Zoey continued to stare at Chloe and leaned over, tenderly hugging Naomi into a chest without moving away from the dead body of Chloe on top of the bed mattress.

Spring stared with a gasp at Chloe, "She's..."

"...dead." Autumn stared with a nod at Chloe and hugged her twin sister with sadness.

Emma stared at the Chloe and waved a hand at the bed with a worried brow. "Don't touch it!"

Bethel stared with a pair of watery eyelashes and lots of fluttering butterflies inside a stomach, softly saying. "Don't touch her. That is our belle-friend Chloe."

Emma stared at Chloe with a stern face. "Don't touch her!"

"There's a note in her chest." Tyleigh twisted a pair of eyeballs to silently read the American words.

"Call the police!" Naomi stared at Chloe with a stern face and continued to hug Zoey.

Zoey stared at the note with a gasp. "The note appears to be written in red colored blood that comes from her body, too."

"The note is attached to her chest." Bethel stared with a stern face at the gross sight.

Emma bent down at both kneecaps and as her pair of eyeballs was even with the bloody notepaper and the knife while observing the murder scene. "The note has been stabbed directly into her chest and attached by a steak knife which probably came from our kitchen here at Antebellum House."

"Emma murdered Chloe." Zoey turned a pair of wet eyeballs to see the rear skull of Emma. Emma shook her curls in silence and continued to stare at the murder scene of dead Chloe.

"Shut up, Zoey!" Bethel continued to stare at dead Chloe.

"Call the police, right now!" Naomi wore a stern and continued to cuddle with Zoey.

Spring stared with a sad face at Chloe, "Read..."

"...the note." Autumn stared with a sad face at the dead body.

Bethel read out loud the note. "Whore House, not Antebellum House," she turned with a gasp to see the nose profile of Mary Margaret. "These are Mary Margaret's exact words."

"No," Mary Margaret stared with a stern face at the bloody dead body of Chloe.

"Yes." Bethel sneered at Mary Margaret.

"Mary Margaret murdered Chloe." Zoey turned with a pair of wet tears to the nose profile of Mary Margaret.

"No, that is not correct, belles." Emma stood upright and continued to stare at the dead body of Chloe as all the eyeballs stared at the back spine of Emma.

Bethel nodded with a stern face at the nose profile of Mary Margaret. "I heard them from her lips. Mary Margaret had created the same set of insulting words right after Jocelyn had proposed to sell our virginity for money to save Antebellum House. Who else would know that phrase but the killer of little Chloe?" All eyeballs turned to see Mary Margaret. Mary Margaret continued to stare at dead body of Chloe in silence.

"My dad is a criminal lawyer, who defends good criminals that happen to be in the wrong place. I am going to be a lawyer too," Emma back stepped from the bed mattress and spun around, moving behind the back spine of each girl inside the semi-circle with a stern face while studying the dead body Chloe and stopped directly behind the rear skull of Mary Margaret. Emma was taller and looked over the hair roots of Mary Margaret at Chloe, reaching down and gently grabbed, lifting the right hand of Mary Margaret into the air. She touched each one of the manicured fingernails of Mary Margaret with a smile. "Her hands are too small. Her weight is too light. The killer had strength within one or both hands as to violently plummet a five inched steak knife directly into a beating heart organ, whilest Chloe struggled for her life." Each girl gasped in alarm.

"Emma did it." Zoey turned and stared at dead Chloe.

"Shut up, Zoey!" Bethel turned and stared at Emma.

Zoey stared at Chloe. "Emma knows how Chloe died. She is confessing to us right here inside Chloe's bedroom in great disgusting death details. She did it. She is bigger and taller than light weight Mary Margaret, too."

"And I'm a lot smarter than you, dumb-belles." Emma released the hand of Mary Margaret and scooted around the rest the semi-circle of females with a stern face and stared at the dead body of Chloe.

Bethel turned with a stern face to see dead Chloe. "Chloe could have been given a batch of illegal drugs by her particular beau and then died of a drug overdose. Then her beau left for the evening with some of the other beaus, not realizing Chloe had succumbed to a wrongful drug dosage."

Emma stopped with a stern face and stood in front of the bed mattress while pointing at the dead body. "I disagree. He left from her room and left poor Chloe tied up with the extended rope of the leather whip. That sex toy must belong to Chloe. I believe that she was definitely murdered in cold-blood, since the killer had bothered with kindness to close her pair of black eyelashes. A person dies with the eyeballs open."

Bethel stared with a sad face at poor Chloe. "I agree that Chloe was murdered. So, Miss-smartass- criminal-lawyer-to-be, who did the dirty work on poor Chloe?"

"Mary Margaret got her beau to do the dirty deed on poor Chloe." Zoey turned and sneered at the nose profile of Mary Margaret.

"No," Mary Margaret stared with a stern face at poor dead Chloe.

"Mary Margaret lies." Zoey snarled.

Emma stared with a stern face and studied the body of dead Chloe. "How did you come to that conclusion, Zoey?"

Zoey smiled. "How many body positions did you fuck with your beau, Mary Margaret?"

"Two." Mary Margaret stared with a stern face at poor dead Chloe.

Zoey smiled. "How many times does he ejaculate into your flower, Mary Margaret?"

"Once," Mary Margaret stared with a stern face at poor dead Chloe.

Zoey sneered. "Bullshit! Each of one of our beaus is better than an individual paid and professional gigolo. Each male can bounce and pop three or four times during the night, before passing out from love exhaustion without excessive beer drinking," she turned and smiled at Naomi. "How many times does your beau ejaculate into your flower, Naomi?"

"Three." Naomi turned and stared with a puzzled brow at the nose profile of Mary Margaret.

"Bethel?" Zoey turned and smiled at Bethel.

"Four." Bethel turned and stared with a puzzled brow at the nose profile of Mary Margaret.

"Tyleigh?" Zoey turned and smiled at Tyleigh.

"Three." Tyleigh turned and stared with a puzzled brow at the nose profile of Mary Margaret.

Zoey turned and smiled at the nose profile of Mary Margaret. "See? I told you. Mary Margaret lies. And I bet she and her beau are in this murder 'wild thing' together. Why else would Jocelyn miss her fucking fun sex time weekend with big man Gerrit to both intimidate and interrogate Mary Margaret on a pretty Saturday morning right in front of us at breakfast time?"

Naomi sneered. "Ask her the real question, Zoey? Why did you kill poor Chloe, Mary Margaret? I can answer that one for Mary Margaret who didn't want to sell off her virginity to save Antebellum House, our home. Mary Margaret was the only belle that fought like a wild cat over that brave decision."

Emma shook her curls and cut both eyelashes to see Mary Margaret. The good-looking beau of Mary Margaret was also a second gay-guy like her gay-beau. So Mary Margaret was acting meek and coil to cover up an embarrassing situation of a non-fucking and fucked up evening. Emma turned and laughed at Zoey and Naomi. "Both of you read way too many murder mysteries, Zoey and Naomi."

"I don't read murder mystery novels." Naomi turned and frowned at Emma.

Zoey turned and snarled at Emma. "I don't either."

"I have concluded my point exactly," Emma nodded with a grin to Naomi and Zoey.

"What are we going to do, Jocelyn? You're our belle-boss." Emma continued to spin around with a worried brow and stood in front of Jocelyn. All eyeballs turned and stared to see both Jocelyn and Trinity. The two females leaned over and wrapped into each other arms with a stern face like a love hug.

"Jocelyn is gay." Zoey turned and stared at the huddle of Trinity and Jocelyn.

"What?" Emma continued to stare with a gasp at Jocelyn and Trinity, who continued to hug like a pair of old lovers. Jocelyn sobbed with a set of tears and nose snot that streamed down the face. Emma frowned with puzzlement and confusion.

Zoey giggled. "Jocelyn cuddles into Trinity's arms. They are both belle lesbians."

Naomi frowned and shoved Zoey from a body. "Grow up, Zoey! This is the twenty first century. A girl or a guy can express their sexy freedom without any persecution from dumbass belles like you, Zoey."

Zoey back stepped with a grin and halted in place between the bed mattress and Naomi, turning to giggle at Naomi. "You're a lesbian, too, Naomi."

Naomi shook her curls with a sour frown, "No, I am not."

Bethel smiled with a nod. "I believe that Zoey is speaking the truth interpretation correctly which explains why Gerrit is seeking a new belle inside his Rebel Den, since Jocelyn can't keep the man happy."

"I'm pregnant." Jocelyn sobbed with tears inside the huddle with Trinity.

Zoey gasped with a worried brow, "O my gawd! What are you going to do with the new baby, Jocelyn?"

"She is going to birth it, dumbass Zoey. The babe comes from our vagina." Trinity sneered inside the huddle with Jocelyn.

Bethel exhaled with a sour frown. "No, Trinity! Zoey is referring the decision to abort or to develop the fetus, which is a female option."

"I do believe that your assumed lesbian rumors are invalid, Zoey." Naomi smiled.

Tyleigh gasped with a worried brow. "Are you keeping the baby, Jocelyn?"

"Does Gerrit know about baby, Jocelyn?" Emma frowned with concern.

"A," Spring continued to hug her twin sister with a smile.

"...baby," Autumn smiled at Jocelyn.

"You forgot to eat that abortion pill, didn't ya Jocelyn? I ate mine, because I do not want a baby." Tyleigh shook her curls and crossed both arms with a sour frown.

Bethel pointed to the dead body with a stern face, "Hey, belles! What are we going to do about Chloe? She is dead. Jocelyn is a second bitch with a much smaller problem."

Jocelyn wiped off her tears with a puff, "This is not a much small problem. I'm going to have a baby." Trinity continued to hug Jocelyn for both support and comfort.

"It is your small problem, not my problem, whore-bitch." Bethel smiled at Jocelyn's misery.

Mary Margaret turned with a stern face and stared at Trinity and Jocelyn. "We need to call the police authorities here to our house. They need to find out and investigate Chloe's true murderer."

Bethel exhaled at the dead body. "No! We can't call the police. They would investigate each one of us and then interrogate each beau. Then each beau would confess about all the cash money coming directly to us. Then the authorities will arrest each belle and then arrest each beau for both prostitution and murder." Each girl nodded in silent agreement.

Emma turned with a smile to see each girl. "No! That is not correct. There is no based for prostitution here. Each belle and beau is of the legal age which is over eighteen years old."

"Not," Spring turned and frowned to Emma.

"...me," Autumn nodded.

Emma gasped. "You are not eighteen years old."

"Next," Spring smiled.

"...week," Autumn smiled.

Zoey turned and gasped to Emma. "Jeezus..."

"...can't help us now. We're all in this murder thing together." Bethel turned and nodded to each girl.

Zoey turned and nodded to Trinity and Jocelyn, "Gawd! Bethel is right. What are we doing to do, Jocelyn? We can't call the police and report a cold-blooded murder."

Emma looked down with a puff and a stern face to see her bedroom slippers and then returned back to see each girl. "No. We can't call the police. So we are going to find the killer ourselves."

"No! I don't want to meet a cold-blooded murderer. He might kill me." Naomi shook her curl in both fear and fright.

"How are we going to find the killer of Chloe, Emma? We don't have any leads just a dead body of poor Chloe." Bethel turned and stared at poor dead Chloe.

"And a dead body will start to stink worse than all of Naomi's farts, without a proper embalming for a proper burial." Zoey giggled with a grin.

"We need to call and tell her parents also." Naomi exhaled with worry.

Zoey frowned. "No! We need to find her killer and then we get him to confess to her cold-blooded murder. Then we call her parents and the police. The end!"

Bethel nodded with a stern face. "It's obvious! One of the beaus is a cold-blooded killer but which one. And it ain't my beau, ya'll. I fuck that boy into total exhaustion every Friday night into Saturday morning."

"Me, either," Zoey nodded with a smile.

Emma exhaled with a stern face. "Stop the mewing, kittens! Jocelyn, can you compose your expanding baby body for two fucking seconds as our group leader?" Jocelyn turned and nodded with a stern face in silence. Emma said. "Good! We need a pow-wow to share all the vitally important information about each beau."

"It is crystal clear to me, Emma. The beau of Chloe is the killer here." Zoey nodded.

Bethel turned and smirked to Jocelyn. "I disagree, since Gerrit and a couple of the other beaus always steal away at midnight along with queen-whore Jocelyn."

"Girl best, you been spending all your weekend times bedding Gerrit at the Rebel Den." Naomi frowned.

Bethel smiled. "Gerrit and Jocelyn have been bedding together at the Rebel Den for the past seven weekends. Am I right, Jocelyn?"

"Stop the mewing, kittens!" Emma turned and frowned at each girl.

Zoey sniggered with a smile. "Is that a new kitty-cat phrase, Emma?"

"What is your ugly and useless point, Bethel?" Mary Margaret turned and frowned at Bethel.

Bethel smiled. "I see stuff very late at night. Some of the other beaus like to perform a ghost-walk around Antebellum House, without their belle. But I don't follow or spy."

Mary Margaret frowned. "Why is that, Bethel?"

"Who is that, Bethel?" Trinity turned and stared at Bethel.

Spring smiled. "Stan wants a new bottle of beer."

"My Stan wants two new bottles of beer." Naomi smiled.

"My Stan wants three new bottles of beer." Zoey, smiles.

"My Stan wants more new bottles of beer." Tyleigh smiled.

Emma exhaled. "Okay, belles! We still got us a big dead mystery. Since some of the beaus are allowed to leave the flock with permission that's means our list of suspects just increased to everyone."

"My Gerrit is not on the list of suspects." Jocelyn sobbed with tears of her situation and the dead body of Chloe.

"Who is inside the limo with you and Gerrit, Jocelyn?" Emma turned and nodded to Jocelyn.

Jocelyn wiped off the tears with a stern face. "It is me, Gerrit, and Doss who always ride back to Rebel Den in one limo all together. Doss is Chloe's beau."

Naomi tossed both arms into the air with a smile. "Yay! Doss did it. We found the killer beau named Doss."

Emma narrowed the eyelashes at Jocelyn. "We are not supposed to ask or know a given name of each beau that was your order, belle-boss."

Bethel sneered. "Stow it, lawyer-to-be, Emma! Jocelyn negotiated the awesome Fuck Fest. She's cool in my play book! And she had to greet and meet all the beau candidates who finally come here and choose a belle."

"Yeah, she did. And she has picked a killer among all the beaus." Zoey snarled at Jocelyn.

"What was your impression of Doss?" Emma frowned.

Jocelyn wiped the tears and regained her composure with a deep sigh as the belle boss. "Doss was a real asshole inside the limo with me and Gerrit. That was why Doss had left with us every midnight."

"See? I'm correct. Doss did it. He is the killer beau of poor Chloe." Naomi tossed both hands into the air with a smile and then dropped them down, slapping the legs of the bathrobe with a nod.

Jocelyn continued to hug Trinity for support. "That is not right, Naomi. I meant to explain. Asshole Doss first fucked Chloe and then he met another girl at midnight inside his private Rebel Den."

"O," Naomi exhaled.

"So, we're back at square one." Zoey turned and stared at poor dead Chloe.

Mary Margaret shuffled the pair of slippers side to side and stared at poor dead Chloe. "I do not believe that we are back at square one."

Bethel turned and stared with a nod at poor dead Chloe. "Yeah, we are back at square one while questioning everyone and everything. When I trotted around Antebellum House with my beau, since we had shared and drunk all the bottles of old beer, I never saw the cute beau of Mary Margaret who would have been wondering lost in the hallway like a lost puppy. What is his name, darling?"

"Tuck." Trinity turned and stared at the nose profile of Mary Margaret.

Mary Margaret smirked at the dead body. "He doesn't like to be called Tuck, only Tucker. And I'm smarter than all of you, since I had arranged for a set of additional cans of beer inside my little fridge, without interpreting our love fest."

Naomi giggled. "She can't say the nasty word, fuck. Yell it to the heavens, Mary Margaret! Fuck. Fuck. Fuck..."

"Shut it, Naomi!" Jocelyn turned and frowned at Naomi. "So, you didn't believe that Tucker murdered Chloe."

"No. He is always with me until eight in the morning." Mary Margaret continued to smirk at the dead body without revealing her true secret.

Jocelyn exhaled with a nod. "I believe you, Mary Margaret. Tucker seems to never want to leave your bed, not even at eight in the morning." The other girls gasped in alarm. Jocelyn said. "So, Tucker passes out from drinking all the bottles of beer."

Mary Margaret continued to smirk at the dead body. "Yes."

"How many bottles does the boy inhale during the night?" Tyleigh frowned at the nose profile of Mary Margaret.

Mary Margaret exhaled with a stern face at the dead body. "He drinks twelve beer cans before midnight and then nighty-night to me."

"He drinks a total of twelve cans of beer within a six-hour period of time. He is lucky to be breathing by midnight which is more than one beer per hour." Zoey gasped.

"It's dark. Maybe, it just looks like Tucker is consuming two beers. I...I get carried away with our love making," Mary Margaret shook her curls with a stern face at the dead body.

"Fucking," Zoey laughed at prim and proper Mary Margaret.

Naomi shook her curls with a worried brow. "Tucker is an alcoholic, doll. She needs a new beau, Jocelyn."

Zoey laughed. "She can have Doss, since he is available."

"Gawd! You're fuckingly mental sick, Zoey." Tyleigh frowned.

Emma said. "Hmm! Depending on the healthy body size of the beau, one beer stays in his biological system for about one hour. The liver breaks down about one beer per hour. So, after about twelve hours, Tucker would still have one or two beers inside the body while still relaxing his brain cells and floating around in his blood stream." Mary Margaret nodded with a stern face at the dead body while accepting the awesome medical explanation from smart Emma, since Mary Margaret was too nervous to think of all the good answers coming from nosy Jocelyn and smart-mouthed Zoey.

Jocelyn narrowed the eyelashes at Mary Margaret. "That's very danger for Tucker, Mary Margaret. You should have known best, since both your parents are medical physicians."

Bethel sneered. "Let her be, Jocelyn! Our baby lamb is holding up her part of the bargain and collecting her share of the money to save Antebellum House. It is Tucker, who is the alcoholic here during the Fuck Fest. I bet that his dad is an alcoholic too. Alcoholism is a disease that runs in a biological family. So, we can strike both Tucker and Gerrit off the murder list, belles. Tucker is too drunk to kill, while Gerrit is too love-sick to care."

Trinity sneered. "You're mean, Bethel."

Bethel laughed. "Yeah, I am. And I ain't preg-nancy either. What other belle can vouch hundred percent for her beau? We need to quickly narrow the list down to one suspect, the killer." Silence invaded the bedroom air waves for a few seconds as a pair of eyeballs turned to stare at each other.

Mary Margaret cleared a throat and stared with a stern face at the dead body. "I know the killer beau of poor Chloe."

"Who?" Emma turned and gasped at Mary Margaret.

Peyton giggled with a grin. "It is Stan."

Emma turned and frowned at Peyton. "No ding-dong belle! All the beaus are code named 'Stan, the man' to protect the innocent dumb-belles like Peyton from finding out their real identities. Just in case, Peyton also gets preg-nancy like our dumbass belle-boss, Jocelyn," giggling.

"Shut up, Emma!" Trinity sneered.

Mary Margaret shuffled a pair of bedroom slippers side to side with a stern face at the dead body. "The mysterious landowner wants to raise the legal contract lease on Antebellum House for more money while we are working very hard to raise the funds by the deadline of December the thirty-first with two more months to go."

"She's right." Trinity nodded with a smile.

"How is it that we know that she is right, Trinity?" Zoey frowned at Mary Margaret with suspicion.

Mary Margaret exhaled. "Whore House, not Antebellum House! The bloody murder note on poor Chloe's chest has been stabbed directly into a heart for our eyeballs to see and our neurons to ponder. The mysterious landowner is afraid that we will win. Then, he can't retake his land property. The land really does belong to the past which each one of our moms and the present which is each one of us, and to the future which is each one of our daughters."

"I agree with Mary Margaret's theory. So, tell, belle! Who is the landowner?" Bethel nodded with a smile.

Mary Margaret frowned at the dead body of Chloe. "I am sorry. I do not know that answer. Jocelyn, do you know any more details of the financial money request that was presented by the mysterious landowner?"

Zoey frowned. "That makes no sense, Mary Margaret. The landowner is probably old and gray like my grandpa."

Jocelyn gasped. "No. He is the landowner's grandson. That makes perfect sense to me now. The grandson would be our age about twenty-something which is the age of the all the beaus at Rebel Den."

"Right, Jocelyn! How do we find out who is the landowner's grandson?" Naomi nodded with a smile.

Emma smiled. "We inquire. I talk all the time to my beau after our Fuck Fest. We exchange a set of passionate words. So, our new assignment is to figure out whose granddaddy owns all the land that lies underneath the granite foundation of Antebellum House. And this belle assignment should be really easy and simple, since most of the beaus like fucking and drinking and talking all night long."

"And we can record their personal private confession into a mobile telephone and the button on the recording videotape. Then we have found, identified, and convicted the murderer of poor Chloe." Bethel turned and stared at poor dead Chloe.

Naomi turned and stared a poor dead Chloe. "And what about the body of poor dead Chloe? She can't live inside her bedroom during lunch or supper or next Friday night. She will stink up the room, the hallway, the staircase, the garconniere..."

Jocelyn smiled. "Good news! The beaus are coming back to us tonight. Lots of guys wanted to see their gal, so Gerrit agreed that each beau can come back and play on Saturday night, too. So, we find out which beau owns the land underneath our cowgirl boots."

"Doesn't Gerrit know that answer, Jocelyn?" Emma turned and frown to Jocelyn.

Jocelyn turned and stared at Trinity with worry. "I would say, maybe or maybe not. But I'll inquire with him about that. He is a fair and just man, who is becoming a future lawyer too. But, each one of you still should ask those two important posed questions to your beau between the fucking and drinking. I bet someone has the answer that we seek for poor Chloe's revenge."

Bethel nodded with a smile. "Okay. We have a plan that covers and tries to identify the landowner. What about the dead body of poor Chloe?"

Mary Margaret stared with a stern face at poor dead Chloe. "We store Chloe in one of the deep freezers which is down inside the old fashioned root cellar, where the staff stores all the frozen animal meats. We need to seriously preserve her body, because she...she is stiff right now. Rigor mortis has stiffened all her muscle tissues. It won't be too long, before she smells..."

"She smells, now." Bethel reached up and touched, holding the two nostrils coming from the tart odor of dead body.

"Yes. She will smell up the room worse when the sun hits the glass windows." Mary Margaret nodded with a stern face at poor dead Chloe.

"Shit! Do something, Jocelyn!" Zoey turned and frowned to Jocelyn.

Jocelyn exhaled with a nod. "Mary Margaret and Naomi, go down to the root cellar and move the meat, and find us an empty freezer, while we lift and tote Chloe down the staircase."

Zoey pointed with a sour frown at poor dead Chloe, "I'm not touching that."

"We don't have time for debating, Zoey." Bethel stared with a sad face at poor dead Chloe.

"I wanna go and clean out the freezer of animal meats." Zoey whined with a sour frown.

Jocelyn sneered. "No, Zoey. We need every pair of hands and shuffling feet. Chloe weighs about hundred pounds which is a lot of dead..."

Naomi frowned. "Jocelyn!"

Jocelyn back stepped from the hug of Trinity and spin around, staring with a stern face at poor dead Chloe. "I am sorry. A dead body contains a lot of weight for two or three person to lift and carry from point A to point B. Get going now, Mary Margaret and Naomi!"

"I'll take Mary Margaret's place." Zoey whined with a sour frown.

"We need all the taller and stronger belles to load and tote the body of Chloe. Mary Margaret is too delicate and tiny for lifting a..." exhaling. "Go and get going now, Mary Margaret and Naomi!" Mary Margaret and Naomi spun around and dashed out the bedroom door in silence, moving don the staircase. Jocelyn exhaled. "Now, we have to balance and distribute all the body weight evenly. Or it might drop down onto the floor."

"Jocelyn!" Zoey frowned.

"Shut up, Zoey!" Bethel nodded. "Listen to Jocelyn! She's right. I suggest place me at the skull with Tyleigh at the feet, since we are the biggest, boldest, and beautifulness of the belles at Antebellum House. We can balance the weight vertically. Are you okay with that idea, Tyleigh?"

"No." Tyleigh looked with a stern face down at poor dead Chloe and shook her curls.

Bethel smiled with a nod. "Good! You're honest. Now, Spring, Autumn, and Emma position your body and grab with your ten fingers onto the right shoulder, the right arm, and the right leg. Then, Trinity, Jocelyn, Zoey pose and grab the left shoulder, the left arm, and the left leg of Chloe. Go and get in positions, belles!" Each girl scooted around each other and the bed mattress, posing in front of a limb on poor dead Chloe in silent with a set of heavy pants of fright and worry, except for Zoey and Bethel.

Zoey refused to move and crossed both arms over the chest with a sour frown. "No."

Bethel reached over with a growl and shoved Zoey, moving and halted both of them into the required belle position in front of the bed mattress closer to Chloe. "Now, we fold both the linen sheets and the bedspread over Chloe while will contain all the wet blood inside the cloth as best we can. Then, we all rush back up the stairs and clean up any splattered blood stains with a set of towels from each one of our bathrooms. Then, we dump all clothing including the red blood soiled towels and our sweaty and stinky pajamas plus house slippers into a single grave inside the cemetery which is located on the outskirts of the Antebellum House that is near the pink dome. Get it? Got it! Good!" She reached down and touched, ripping up the linen sheets from the top of the bed mattress and tossed it over the dead face of Chloe. Each girl duplicated the motion of Bethel in silence. Then, the set of pink tinted bed linens and the entire pink tinted bedspread covered the entire body of Chloe like a pink shrine. Bethel stared down at the pink pile of bed linens with a stern face with a deep sigh. "Okay! Let's do this."

"No." Zoey shook her curls with a sour frown.

Bethel shuffled both hands underneath the skull of dead Chloe that was hidden inside the pink tinted bed linens. "Position both your hands underneath your assigned limb. Now, grab it firmly with a cupped hand all ten fingers. Now, we will lift it on the count of three. One. Two. Three." Each girl shuffled both hands underneath the appropriate limb and lifted the limb into the air, making the pink pile of Chloe float into the air like magic. Bethel exhaled with the heavy body in the air. "Thank goodness! There was not a set of four bed posts between us and Chloe." Each girl slowly moved ahead towards the open archway and continued to hold onto the appropriate limb through the bed linens with both hands. Some of the girls had to climb across the naked bed mattress and landed on top of the floor while slowly advancing towards the open archway

Trinity grunted with the heavy dead weight of dead Chloe. "We should pray over it."

Tyleigh grunted from the heavy dead weight between both cupped arms while moving backward out from the bedroom towards the open archway. "That is a wonderful gesture, Trinity. I will start first. Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for this beautiful day and this beautiful person..."

Then each pair of silent and bloody bed slippers shuffled out the open archway and turned, slowing moving down the elegant staircase, landing on top of the ground floor, and finally slowly advanced into the bright yellow sunlight of a new day.

05:51p.m.

Front porch location

Cold temperatures with parted clouds of sunshine

Jocelyn had allowed all the females to watch and wait for the designated beau while rocking an antebellum dress inside one of the rocking chairs on top of the front porch within the cool evening. Each mind was heated with a set of inquiring questions and a batch of unknown facts that referenced an unknown murderer who had visited Antebellum House.

One at a time, the same black tinted limousine had slowed from the open gates and then halted in front of the brick steps at Antebellum House while revealing a smiling beau. Then, one at a time, each girl had disappeared from the front porch with their beau, except for Trinity and Jocelyn, who impatiently watched and waited for their beau.

A beautiful white horse emerged and galloped full speed coming from the open gates, instead of the usual black tinted limousine. The horse steered its four hoofs and stopped in front of the front porch, creating a tornado of white dust. Hudson lifted up a smile and a torso from the saddle to stare at Trinity, sliding off the mare, landing on top of the vanilla sidewalk and glided up short steps into her smiling face.

Trinity stood upright from the rocking chair and cuddles into his open arms with a grin and a giggle, "Hudson."

Hudson leaned down and kissed her lips, pulling back with a smile and a whisper. "I'm kidnapping and taking you from the house and to the dome. We fly like the wind tonight."

Trinity back stepped in a pair of summer sandals from both his arms as the electric blue antebellum round skirt bloomed around his jeans. She frowned. "We are riding on top of a horse. We are going to the ride to the dome. Why are we doing that?"

Hudson leaned over and cuddled her into a chest with a whisper from the eardrums and eyeballs of spying Jocelyn, who eagerly waited for Gerrit to show up inside the last limousine. He smiled. "Yeah, the dome is a decoration and a symbol and a ritual here at Antebellum House with its pink tint glowing beautifully like a cute girl that I love."

"Do you really love me, Hudson?" Trinity smiled.

He smiled. "Shore, darling! I fall in love with you from the first time my eyes met your pretty face and your pretty ass," he reached down and slapped the rear of dress without hitting her ass inside the thick dress.

"Hudson," she blushed in a pink tone of embarrassment.

He back stepped and spun them around to face the horse, shuffling ahead over the porch and down the brick steps, landing on top of the sidewalk and moved ahead, stopping in front of the horse. The horse had been trained not to move with the words from the master. She kicked off both her sandals onto the sidewalk. He reached over and touched her waistline, lifting Trinity into the air. "Get up behind the saddle, darling!" She landed a naked foot into side stirrup of the saddle and then tossed a leg over the horse, since she was cowgirl knowing how to ride and handle a horse also. The horse came from the Antebellum Stables which was a gently quarter horse mare for a set of fast speeds. Trinity twisted around and landed back behind the saddle on top of rump of the horse while leaving the saddle for Hudson. A saddle was too small for two adults unless the two individuals were children. He reached up and climbed up and over into the saddle while positioning in front with a smile. She reached down and wrapped both her arms around his fit waistline, leaning a cheekbone into his back spine with a smile. Hudson reached down and grabbed the horse reins with a smile. "Hold tight, babe! We fly like the wind to the dome. Gitty up, pony!" He kicked both stirrups into the plump belly of the mare with a yell. Then, the three of them rode off into the bright shiny sun towards the west. Nighttime would fall around six thirty which was about the supper time when the meal would be served to all the male and females.

On the front porch, Jocelyn continued to rock inside the chair with a smile and stared at the romantic photograph of Hudson and Trinity. The long dress train magically lifted up from the rump of a galloping horse while they headed into the sunset. Then she exhaled with worry and cut both eyelashes at the motion on top of the road. A slow moving black tinted limousine was crawling through the open gate and finally halted in front of the porch. She stood upright from the chair without moving ahead.

The limousine door opened and revealed tall Gerrit, who moved up the steps with a smile at his girl. Jocelyn ran ahead from the rocking chair and into both his opens arms, cuddling and giggling into his chest. "Jo doll," Gerrit leaned down and kissed her lips, pulling back with a smile.

"Gerrit," she smiled.

"Did you interview that little belle Mary Margaret, Jo doll?" He twisted them to face the front porch and the row of windows inside the belle parlor, moving over the floor. He wanted to talk in private, without being heard by the other males and females.

She cuddled into his chair and held the notepad without showing Gerrit the results, until they were inside her private chamber. "Yes. I have written down all the remarks coming from the other belles as well as covering my spying. But Gerrit, I don't think Mary Margaret did anything wrong. She told us that Tucker drinks twelve cans of beer between the six hours of six pm to midnight, making two beers per hour. And all the cans of beer make him both drunk and sleepy and not abusive to tiny Mary Margaret. She weighs no more than a bumblebee."

He leaned down and kissed the top of her red tinted hair roots as he was taller with a sour frown. "Jo doll, that's nothing for a big guy like Tuck. He and the rest of the beaus can consume four or more per hour at the Den for fucking rowdy fun, after our classes to reduce and induce stress."

She frowned. "O. But, Mary Margaret claims that Tuck passes out after consuming all the beer into total unconsciousness."

They rounded the building corner and swiftly strolled towards the elegant staircase.

"Naw, Jo doll! I have seen Tuck drink way more beer per hour, sometimes six or more. He doesn't pass out but tosses up the nice supper meal that had been prepared by our friendly and highly paid house staff, sometimes over the flooring, his shirt, and his cowboy boots like a true Bama redneck. That's when I whip his ass for being a messy jerk at Rebel Den. We are men now, not a bunch of silly teen boys inside the church parking lot after midnight while chasing the lonely bat inside the bell tower. So, that argumentative point is mute to me. She says that Tuck passes out from drinking only the beer or after they drink and fuck and then passes out from exhaustion. What are her exact words, Jo doll? Did you write down her exact words?"

She cleared a throat with worry "Gerrit, I need to talk to you about another problem here at Antebellum House."

They turned to face the open archway and climbed up the staircase in silence.

Gerrit reached over and touched, man-lifting her tiny waistline in the air inside the long dress while he ran them quickly up the stairs, since her bedroom was located at the very top bedroom suite inside the belle garconniere. He wanted to quickly solve the mystery behind the drugged state of Tucker before suppertime, so he could enjoy the homemade meal in peace with his girl. He stopped and landed both her sandals on top of the steps, reaching out and grabbed the door knob, swinging open the door into her private bedroom with a smile in silence.

Private bedroom of Jocelyn with beau Gerrit

Jocelyn moved ahead first and nervously tapped the fingers on the paper notepad, stopping a few feet into the room, spinning around in front of the bed mattress with a worried brow in silence.

He entered behind her back spine and kicked the door shut with a boot heel, stopping and stood in front of her with a stern face. "I talked with Tuck. He does not remember anything after he and she gets naked on top of the bed mattress. That is very odd, strange, and damn right intriguing to my brain cells. What do you think is happening here, Jo doll?" Gerrit reached out and accepted the tiny paper notepad with understanding. Jocelyn had followed his instructions while writing down all the verbal comments coming from Mary Margaret in front of the other females as a set of eye witnesses.

Jocelyn anxiously shuffled side to side in the long dress with a worried brow in front of the bed mattress. "Gerrit, I have another matter that needs your immediate attention. Can we discuss that one first?"

He stood in place and silently read the sentences of short words in the color of blue ink pen down to the end and then started at the first page all over again while concentrating on any subtle hint that might prove the little female of some silly mischief. He frowned down at the paper. "And Tuck does not remember fucking his little belle either. I find that very odd and damn right interesting. What do you think is happening here, Jo doll?" He looked up with a smile to see Jocelyn. She continued to shuffle side to side in front of the bed in a pink and black ruffled ball gown. He spun around and placed the tiny paper notepad on top of the entertainment center, moving ahead to the wall corner, squatting down and grabbed, lifting the settee up into the air. He spun around with settee above the hair roots and shuffled back to her, stopping and placed the settee between her and entertainment center with a loud bang.

Jocelyn continued to pace and wring both hands with nervousness with a worried brow. "Gerrit, I need to talk to you about another personal matter."

Gerrit back stepped from the settee and Jocelyn and stopped, leaning against the entertainment center, reaching over and studied the paper notebook again with a smile. "Sit, girl! I need to absorb these police detective notes that you brilliantly collected for me on the little belle."

Jocelyn continued to pace side to side and wring both hands with nervousness. "Gerrit, you and I really need to talk."

He stopped reading and looked up with a smile and a snigger to see her, sliding the notepad back on top of the hard surface of the entertainment table and glided to her with a grin. "You need to sit and rest your feet, darling. Take off your heeled shoes, Jo doll!" He reached out and gently led her down to the settee. She sat down with a worried brow. He reached down and lifted up the dress hem from the floor, reaching out and lifted her leg into the air, tenderly removing the sandal from her naked foot, gently rubbing her foot with a smile.

Jocelyn looked down with a worried brow to see his hand and her foot. "Gerrit, I need to tell you something really important."

He released the leg and reached out, removing her other sandal with a smile, gently rubbing her other naked foot, looking up with a wink to see her worried brow. "You're pregnant. I know the secret of the 'something really important tale.'" He released her naked foot and leaned over, kissing her forehead, pulling back with a smile.

She gasped. "How do you know that?"

He continued to kneel on top of the floor like he was going to propose marriage. He reached up and collected both her hand while caressing them within his pair of bigger hands with a smile into her shocked face. "I'm a guy, Jo doll. I've fucked thousands of whores, but, that's all done with. Okay. I promise. Well, one of them bitches liked to fuck on her bleeding time. Some guys like that. I don't messy, stinky, sticky, icky..."

"How do you know about our baby?"

He grunted with a grin. "We have fucked every weekend for the past eight weeks, Jo doll. One weekend, you have crossed me with your bleeding time, but none did. Zero. Nada. Then, the first tattle-tail sign to me was your pair of big breasts which was getting heavily engorged," he reached down and pinched one of her breasts inside the dress with a wink to her. "That's the baby's milk. I wanna suck your tits after you feed the baby. I bet that's a unique erotic arousal. Then we can fuck, while the baby's sleep. Yeah!"

She frowned in shock and fear. "Gerrit, you and I are going to be parents."

Gerrit reached down and rubbed both her hands, leaning over and kisses her lips, smiling. "I'm so happy. I'm going to be a daddy. My parents will be thrilled for the both us. You're folks, too."

"Gerrit, you and I and a baby..."

"Yeah, Jo doll! Well, I guess I'll continue to call you, Jo doll. So I'll call the baby, baby doll. How's that? It's cute, right? Gawd! I hope that we have a little pinky-pink girl like you. I love you, Jo doll."

She frowned. "Gerrit, my future college graduation is coming up..."

"You will graduate in the month of May like you have planned with me. The baby will be due in..."

"My future plan is working in a paid job with my paid college education."

"Naw. I work as a lawyer while joining my dad's law firm, right out of school. You are the mom spending all your time with our precious baby along with my mom and your mom. They will be good grandmas. Gawd! Let's call my parents right now."

"No!"

He smiled with a nod. "That is a good point, Jo doll! We'll surprise them. Tell them in person! We can leave here right after I talk to Mary Margaret. Then, we need to get you a diamond ring, a big one to show my folks. Since, we are getting married this spring, before we both graduate. How is that plan, darling? I love you, Jo doll."

She looked down with a stern face at her hands and then into his smile. "I'm so sorry. I didn't plan for this to happen."

He chuckled. "I did. I planned this. Now, you get to marry me."

She gasped. "What is meant that you have planned this? How could you have planned this? How could you known that I would have gotten pregnant?"

He smiled. "You're a virgin, Jo doll. I pumped you full of my manly sperm four times on our first night of fucking. Hell! That didn't count on the weekend, when I fucked you off and on throughout the lazy days and cool nights inside the Rebel House. Manly sperm lasts three whole day and nights, darling. Think about it, Jo doll! Your flower contained my badass boys for five full days, before they all died. Then, we started the fucking process all over again on Friday night. You were bound to get pregnant. It was on the first night. We can tell our kid our passionate love story, so she doesn't act like a whore and get pregnant on her first date. Then I would have to kill the fucking bastard." Jocelyn burst into tears of worry. He leaned down and touched her breasts with a smile. "What's wrong, Jo doll?"

She said between the sobs and the tears. "I forget to eat the morning after pill. I caused all of this."

He smiled. "Naw. I kidnapped you from the Antebellum House, so you won't eat that damn abortion pill that night. Don't you remember? When I had to leave, I seduced you into coming with me. Then, we fucked in the limo, then in the yard, then in the swimming pool..."

She sniffed up the snot back into the nostrils. "Yeah."

"You forgot all about that damn pill. You're right. The pill really works good. Then you won't be carrying our child. I'm so sorry for tricking you, but I truly love you. I truly want you. Now, I have truly got you, babe," he leaned over and kissed her crying lips, pulling back with a smile.

The tears rolled down each of her cheekbones and as she meekly said, "Yeah."

"Are you mad at me, Jo doll?"

"Yeah."

"Ah! I hope that's not for long, because you love me too. Am I right?"

"Yeah."

"That's my tough ass girl." Gerrit leaned over and hugged her with a smile, stroking her long hair with happiness of his true love and his true future.

The door opened with a loud bang. Gerrit and Jocelyn stood upright in shock from the settee and spun around to see commotion.

Tucker had kicked the door inward with a boot toe and was dragging the arm of Mary Margaret with a growl. Her body was folded down while trying to break away from his manly gripe. He pulled Mary Margaret into the bedroom with a sneer and held a small object in the air with a sour frown. "I found it. The little bitch drugged me with a needle."

"What is this?" Gerrit focused both eyeballs and numerous neurons on a single object with curiosity.

Jocelyn pointed with a gasp at the needle. "That...that is a cross stitch needle."

Tucker jerked her closer to a body and raised the fingers with a second object and a sneer to Gerrit. "The needle was housed inside this cache. The cache was sewn onto the side of her bed mattress. Now, I'm the laughing stock of the beaus, Gerrit."

"I savaged and saved my virginity for my future husband. I am proud I did that. Let go of me, sir!" Mary Margaret wiggled side to side and tried to escape from his manly grip on her forearm while kicking a sandal into his cowboy boot.

He jerked her in front of a body and leaned over her hair roots with a snarl. "Bitch, I'm going to fuck your eyeballs out of your skull and then bang your head against the floor while offering a bleeding for shitting on my nuts..."

Jocelyn raised both fists and dashed ahead with a sneer towards Tucker. "Gerrit, you stop him! Or I will."

Gerrit reached out and cuddled Jocelyn into a chest with love and protection, saying with a smile. "Stay calm, Jo doll! Tuck, sit your ass down on that settee, son. I'm bigger and meaner than you every fucking day of week, including Leap Day. And you will not ever harm her or any other female whilest around me. Do you hear me, boy?" He separated from Jocelyn and reached out, grabbing and shoved Tucker away from the two females and down onto the settee as the wolf leader of the den. Tucker slid down onto the settee with a sneer at Gerrit and then Mary Margaret. Gerrit continued to stand and slammed a hand on top of the collar bone of Tucker with a growl. "Speak!"

"Yeah," Tucker looked down with an angry face at the boot toes.

"Good! I am the wolf-leader. You obey me or fight me. But either way, I win," Gerrit spun around with a smile and cuddled Jocelyn with a whsiper. "Jo doll, leave us for a while. I will straighten out the beau."

"No. Mary Margaret is my responsibility." Jocelyn stood beside Gerrit with a stern face and in front of Mary Margaret.

Gerrit shook a skull with a grin, "Naw! She is my responsibility along with Tucker and you. I'm working up a healthy appetite. Please go and check on the supper meal for us like a good future spouse," he turned and smiled at Mary Margaret. "I'm always eager to hear a good medical yarn, especially when it was successfully implemented. I just want an explanation that's all," he swung back and leaned over, kissing her cheekbone, pulling back with a smile. "I love you, Jo doll. Go on and check on supper for us! I will tell you later what all happened in here."

Jocelyn nodded with a smile to Gerrit and swung around with a smile to face the closed door, exiting her bedroom to check on the supper meal for all the females and males.

Gerrit turned and narrowed both eyelids at Tucker, who continued to snort with a set of inflamed nostrils at Mary Margaret. Mary Margaret shuffled away from Tucker and stopped, scooting closing to Gerrit for protection.

Gerrit reached over and pulled Mary Margaret into a body, leading her towards end of the bed mattress, reaching down and lifted her into the air, sitting her on top of the red tinted velveteen bedcover. He moved sideways and reached out, grabbing the student chair, rolling it backward and halted, posing the chair between them like a sloppy triangle with a smile, "Now!"

Tucker snorted with a sour frown at Mary Margaret.

Gerrit held a palm in the air with a smile. "Hold up!" He back stepped from the student chair and spun around to face the closed, exiting out the room and loudly stomped down the staircase and then silence. Then, Gerrit nosily tromped back up the stair and entered back into the bedroom, slapping the door shut with a boot heel and a chuckle and stopped. He slid down into the chair and shook a balding skull, rolling the chair back and forth while controlling the waves of movement with both the boot heels with a grin to see Tucker and then Mary Margaret. "Now, can you tell me this? Who in the hell really believes that three fucking she-ghosts haunt the belle's staircase?"

"Fuck you, Gerrit!" Tucker started to stand upright and stopped while recalling the warning, since Gerrit was the leader of all the beaus.

Gerrit waved a hand and a smile at Tucker. "Okay. Okay. Wrong answer, Tuck! Now, I want you to count to the number ten beginning with the number one real slow and silence your tiger growling, boy. This ain't a football game," he clapped for full attention and looked at Mary Margaret. "Okay. Let's try this again, little one. How did you drug Tuck, Mary Margaret? What did you do to poor Tuck every Friday night when both of you were alone inside your bedroom, darling? Where did you get the sleeping potion? Did the medication come from your parents? Since, they are both physicians. And let us thank Almighty God above that you didn't kill the boy, because I'd be pretty shitting mad right now, girl."

06:39 p.m.

Red and yellow tinted sunset

Cool temperatures and parted clouds

Loveless Mountain location

Cliff setting with Trinity and Hudson

On top of the cliff, they were alone. Trinity had redressed back into the long gown and reached up, placing both hands in a face while crying from all the exhaustive, useless, and abusive emotions. Her emotions bombarded inside a mental mind, onto a physical body, and inside a troubled soul.

Hudson stood upright and dressed a naked body with the blue jeans and the shirt, after finishing the sex act on top of the naked cliff surface while staring down at the tears from Trinity with a puzzled brow, "Why in the world are you crying, Trinity? Gawd! I didn't think that I was that bad tonight. I guess I could've been better. I'm sorry."

She shook her curls and continued to hide a face of tears between the hands. "It is not you, Hudson. It is me. Well, it is not me. It is Jocelyn," she looked up with a worried brow and a set of crying tears to see Hudson. "She is pregnant."

Hudson secured the belt buckle with a puzzled brow at Trinity. "Jocelyn carries Gerrit's child. Did she tell Gerrit about the baby yet?"

She shook her curls and continued to sit on top of the cool flat tabletop pink dome rock. "No. It is her baby. It is her choice."

He squatted down and sat in front of her with a puzzled brow, "It is her choice," he shook a skull, "No ma'am! This is their baby. Gerrit needs to know that he is going to be a daddy. How far along is the development of the fetus?"

"Jocelyn might not..."

".... keep the fetus. Do you mean to tattle that Jocelyn might perform a...you know?" He gasped with a worried brow. "That has to be the most vicious vile decision in the universe, Trinity. And I plan to do something about it." He stood upright with a stern face and reached down, assisting her to stand in front of him with a smile.

"What do you plan to do? You can't do anything about the fetus. I can't do anything about the fetus. Gerrit can't do anything about the fetus. The growing fetus is only Jocelyn's decision."

He shook a bald skull with a sour frown. "No! This is their baby. Don't you know who we are, Trinity?"

"Your name is Hudson." She smiled with a smile.

He shook a bald skull and parked both hands on the waistline with a sour frown, "Jeezus! Don't you know who I am, Trinity?"

"A boy," she giggled with a grin while feeling silly love and lust with her cowboy.

He exhaled, "Naw, babe! Didn't you know why your dad sent to you here to Antebellum House?"

She rolled the eyeballs and then stared at him with a sour frown. "Yeah, he sent me here to make my life miserable."

He shook a bald skull and extended both arms even with the hard surface with a huff. "Trinity, you are a blood blue princess from a good family...

"Please do not remind me! I am the princess who never could get a date."

"I beg your pardon."

She exhaled with a nod. "I come from a rich family. So what? I can't have a little fun and do some things by myself. I always am accompanied by a chaperone like Miss Deborah or Miss Somebody Else."

He frowned with confusion. "What does that statement mean? That is not a bad thing, sweetheart. Our world, this world is not a very good place to live and thrive in at the moment."

She crossed both arms with a sour frown. "I'm not a child, Hudson."

He chuckled. "You are imitating one and very well, honey. Yes, you have a chaperone. All the girls at Antebellum House are required to have a chaperone which has existed for decades and decades..."

"I know that, too. The chaperone concept has existed at Antebellum House, since the year 1814..."

"Do you remember the significance of the year 1814?" He crossed both arms with a nod."

In the year 1814, there was an international war between the United States and Great Britain."

"In which, that war brought a group of foreign male fighting soldiers for a second time upon American soil. Look! You dad wants his princess safe and..."

"...and guarded, too. From who or what am I to be safe and guarded, Hudson? There is peace time here in the USA. There is not a war here in the great state of Alabama or within the USA either."

He shook a bald skull with a chuckle at her true girly innocence. "Trinity, do you not get it here at Antebellum House?"

She frowned. "What am I supposed to get here at Antebellum House?"

He moved ahead and cuddled her with a smile. "Do you not know the purpose of Antebellum House?"

"Antebellum House was built in the year 1814, before Alabama became a state within the USA." Hudson leaned over and kissed her lips, pulling back with a smile. "My mom attended Antebellum House and then graduated from Burn U like me."

She frowned, "I don't know that. Why would you mom come here to Antebellum House?"

He back stepped with a chuckle and shook a bald skull her. "Geez, Trinity! Do you not know about Antebellum House?"

She frowned. "No. I apparently do not know something else about Antebellum House. What am I supposed to know, Hudson?"

"The real reason, your dad sent his princess here to meet her prince."

She giggled with a nod, "I am supposed to meet you. How is that even possible?"

He nodded with a smile. "My mom at your same age was like you, Trinity."

She back stepped away from him and parked both hands on the waistline with a sour frown. "I don't understand. How is your mom like me, Hudson? I don't know your mom. What are you talking about, Hudson?"

He smiled. "My mom is a southern belle too."

"A southern belle is just a nickname for a southern girl, Hudson. Every female is called a southern belle that lives here within one of the southern states," she turned and viewed the approaching sunset of pink, yellow, and red colors, looking back at his smile with puzzlement.

He smiled at her belle beauty and childish ignorance. "No. A southern belle is a status. Lucky for all the gals at Antebellum House, that the other beaus and I saved each one of your cute asses."

She gasped. "You and the other beaus saved each of us. What in the hell does that mean, Hudson? You saved us from what exactly. What was going to happen to each one of us?"

He chuckled, "The other beaus and I saved you from the other redneck predators, since you're my little pumpkin." He moved ahead and stopped, wrapping both arms around her, leaning over and kissed her lips, pulling back with a smile. "It was clever raising all that money for your charity project while initiating the beau-belle introduction cycle in the month of August here at Antebellum House."

She back stepped from his warm hug with a puzzled brow. "I don't understand. What are you talking about, Hudson? What charity project?"

He laughed. "Stephan can't decide which twin he likes better."

"Who is Stephan?" She frowned with confusion.

He laughed. "He is the beau of the twins, who are named Autumn and Spring. Stephan is thinking about relocating to the US State of Utah and becoming a Mormon worshipper, so he can have two wives."

"I don't understand. Stephan, he wants to have two wives. He wants to marry both the twins Autumn and Spring," she frowned with puzzlement.

He moved ahead and hugged her with a smile. "Some of the old-fashioned Mormon men have more than one wife."

"I know what a Mormon is. Why does Stephan want to marry both Spring and Autumn?"

"He can't pick which twin for his wife."

"What wife? What are you talking about, Hudson?"

Hudson back stepped with a puzzled brow and a sigh. "We all come from the same House, Trinity. You are called, the Antebellum House, while we are called, the Rebel Den. But, we all are alike but live off the Burn U campus."

"No. All the girls made up a sorority house."

He stomped a boot heel into the rock with a smile and a chuckle. "No. You ain't a sorority, babe. You are a society of pretty belles and rebel beaus. My mom met my dad right here on top of this pink rock like us."

She frowned. "Your mom and you dad met here like us. What does that mean, Hudson?"

He frowned. "Girl, what in tarnation are you confused about here, Trinity? I am talking about a marriage of future mates with a set of future children and a future of old age together which is me and you foreverly," he moved ahead and kissed her lips, pulling back with a smile.

She whispered into his eardrum, "But I am still confused. What are you talking about marriage?"

He back stepped with a puzzled brow. "Why are you confused, Trinity?"

"Jocelyn set up this deal with all of the beaus."

He frowned with confusion. "What deal are you referencing with Jocelyn? O. You are referencing the charity ball on the first night that we met where I paid the thousand dollars. That was brilliantly clever of Jocelyn, too."

She gasped. "Did you really pay one thousand dollars for me on the first night of our fucking?"

He smiled. "I would have paid more, if Jocelyn had asked me."

She gasped with a worried brow, "You would have paid more. Why would you have paid more for me? Why does that mean, Hudson?"

"Jocelyn says that you were raising money to buy a pair of shoes for each school kid in the foreign country of Panama, so each little child can go to school."

She gasped. "And you believed her and her story."

He smiled, "Hell yeah! Why should I not believe her, Trinity?"

"What else did Jocelyn ask of each beau?"

He looked down with a smile to see the boot toes and up to see her pretty face, "Pretty simple! I was to donor all the money and then picked out a belle that I liked."

She gasped. "I don't understand. What for? Why would you do that? Please start from the very beginning, Hudson. How do you know Jocelyn?"

"I know her, her dad, your dad..."

"I don't know your dad. How do you know my dad, Hudson?"

He exhaled. "Trinity, I know your dad, since my family does business with your dad's business company. I also know each belle and their family tree limb mostly through the economic commerce here in Bama."

She raised both palms and shook her curls with a sour frown. "Wait. Wait. Wait. How do know my dad? I do not know of you, Hudson."

He nodded with a smile. "Yeah, that's right!"

"No, that is all wrong! Why have we never socialized at all these numerous charity events, Hudson?"

He grinned with a nod. "First off, you are too young. Second off, I am older than you. I'm twenty-four years old and will graduate law school next May."

She shook her curls and palms with a sour frown. "Wait. Wait. Wait. I don't understand, Hudson."

He smiled. "You keep repeating that phase."

She parked both hands on the waistline with a sour frown. "How do you know Jocelyn, her parents, my parents but not me? Is a scam of some type here?"

He back stepped with a puzzled brow from her in shock and surprise. "What are you talking about? Is this a scan?"

She frowned. "Or maybe, is this a scheme of some type here?"

He frowned. "What are you talking about a scheme of some type here?"

"Tell me! How did you meet Jocelyn and when did you meet her?"

He smiled. "Well, Jocelyn, the other beaus and I had a late lunch on Sunday afternoon in August..."

"In the month of August, that was our first day of college school."

He nodded with a smile. "That is correct. We all were informed about the parents of Miss Deborah as they had become very ill. She had to leave Antebellum House for a spell until the Thanksgiving holiday and then she would return back to the House and to all the females."

"And what else transpired at the lunch meeting without me?"

"And we ended the meeting. Our parents went home."

She gasped in alarm. "My biological parents and the other parents from the other belles were with all of you beaus at the Rebel Den location?"

He smiled. "Jocelyn explained that the upcoming charity ball which would cost one thousand dollars per beau to a visit a belle only on Friday night. Did you not know that all of this was approved by your folks?"

She gasped. "And what happened on Friday night, the first Friday night?"

He chuckled. "Didn't you remember our first Friday night together, muffin? Maybe, I can remind you again, before we ride the horse back to the House for suppertime and before sunset breaks for a quick..."

"No," she back stepped away from his open arms with a puff of angry. "I want to know the logistics of the first Friday night of the charity ball event that Jocelyn explained to you and my parents."

He looked down with a stern face at the pink stone and up to see her pinky colored stony expression. "Each beau drove a personal vehicle and arrived in front of the closed gate. Shit! We had to pay an additional thousand-dollar fee before that asshole driver opened the rented limousine door. I paid and then rode inside the rear of the limo and arrived there in front of the Dogtrot Hallway all alone. Then, I was escorted by Jocelyn and stopped, standing inside the archway of the ballroom where I selected you, Trinity," Hudson moved ahead and hugged her body with a smile.

She back stepped with a sour frown away from him, "Why did you select me? I don't understand, Hudson."

He smiled. "You keep repeating that phrase, honey. Jocelyn brought and presented a set of paper dossiers that showed each belle to Rebel Den on that hot August afternoon at lunchtime. We were served fried chicken..."

You had a paper folder on each one of us."

"The colored folder contained recent pictures, stats of height, weight, and other vital important belle stuff. I read your American History Paper on Susan B. Anthony. It was very good. I see why you received the first place award in the Jefferson County Social Studies Fair."

She stomped a sandal and yelled at the pretty sunset, "You received a copy of my social studies paper. I wrote that paper last fall in high school."

He nodded with smile, "Yeah."

"I don't understand, Hudson."

He frowned. "You keep repeating that same phrase, baby."

"Yes, I do keep repeating the same phrase, since I am missing the big pic here."

He moved ahead and hugged her, pulling back with a big grin. "The big pic, you are mine," he leaned over and kissed her lips, pulling back with a smile. "I selected you from all the paper dossiers. I admit that it was a fun way to find a mate."

She back pedaled with a gasp from him. "You selected me as your mate. I'm not your mate."

"You are." He nodded with a smile.

She frowned, "I am not your mate, Hudson. You are not my mate either. Do you what to hear my story of Jocelyn's demon tale?"

He moved ahead and wrapped both arms around her, lowering them down onto the pink rock coated dome, cuddling her with a whisper and a smile. "Shore, darling! As long as, you hug my neck, talk softly, and flirt heavy," he leaned over and kisses her cheekbone, pulling back with a smile.

She exhaled. "Jocelyn priced each belle based on our physical attributes. I was priced at two hundred dollars. But you told me that you paid one thousand dollars to fuck me."

He smiled. "Yes sir. All the beaus paid one thousand bucks to fuck their chosen beautiful southern belle."

"That is one thousand dollars' time twelve belles is..."

"Stephens paid two thousand dollars for the twins, since he was totally befuddled with their southern ways."

"So, thirteen thousand dollars was paid per Friday night for each beauty belle."

"Yes sir! Thirteen thousand dollars can buy lots of shoes for the poor kids in Panama," he smiled.

"This is the beginning of the month of August."

"The seventeenth of August, what a night to remember. We have to come out here to recall our togetherness underneath the sun light, next year."

"Yeah! So, the house of the belles has accumulated for the past eight Friday evenings thirteen thousand dollars or 104,000 dollars."

"Yeah, that is lots of shoes for the poor kids. We need to leave and get back to House, sweetie."

"When do you stop paying for me, Hudson?"

Hudson stood upright from the hard rock and leaned down, helping her to stand with a smile. "I don't stop paying my money for a charity. Each beau is very rich. It's time for supper. I'm hungry and then our fun bedtime ritual. Each beau tosses a pot of money out the front door for a good cause like Almighty God says."

She cuddled into his chest with a puzzled brow, "But?"

"But what, babe?"

"You paid Jocelyn to fuck me."

"Naw, girl! I wrote a check to Antebellum House for one thousand dollars and then I gave it to your gate keeper, whoever that son of bitch was inside the limo."

"You just admitted that you paid one thousand dollars per Jocelyn's order to sleep with me every Friday night, since August."

He back stepped from her and lifted both palms into the air with a worried brow. "Whoa, honey! Do you believe that I would pay money to someone to fuck a girl? I can have any female I want in Bama."

"We all don't live here in Alabama, Hudson."

He nodded with a smile. "Of course, each one of us lives here in Bama, sugar. Only a Bama belle is housed at Antebellum House and is raised to be a good girl only for a beau from the Rebel Den."

She gasped. "What?"

He rolled the eyeballs and returned with a smile to see her. "Do you really think? I can't believe this. Do you actually believe that I had paid to fuck you for sex? That's against the law, Trinity. I should know, since I am going to be a lawyer. Shit, sweetie! That would make you a whore."

"I...."

"Is that why you were crying? Do you think that you are a whore because we had fucked? I selected you. You selected me. We selected and sexed each other for fun and forever."

"I..."

He cuddled her with a smile and a whisper. "Fuck that bitch, Jocelyn! She lied to you, darling."

She sobbed with tears while hearing the truth from Hudson, "I'm so sorry. I didn't simply understand. I was wrong, all wrong."

"Now, you tell me what Jocelyn tattled to you, before I beat her ass black and blue."

"Gerrit?"

He chuckled. "Gerrit will beat her ass black and blue for honestly lying. That's the first command of a Southern rouge."

"Miss Deborah told us that we were leaving permanently from Antebellum House. So, Jocelyn hatched and scratched a plot to raise monies to keep our House on the Burn U campus. She priced each belle with a service charge. I'm two hundred dollars. She is three hundred dollars. The twins are five hundred dollars-a-piece."

He hugged her with a worried brow, "What else did she do or say?"

"We practiced our beauty skills and each received an abortion pill to eat on Saturday morning for...you know. Then, on Friday night, you paid the set monies to Jocelyn at the breezeway, after arriving inside the limo coming from the gate house. Then, each belle sat down inside a solo loveseat, while a beau appeared inside the doorway. You picked me and then we fucked that night."

He exhaled. "What else did Jocelyn say or do?"

"The money of sixty-three thousand dollars would be all collected which represented 5,250 dollars per belle for fuck work coming from a total of ten Friday nights."

He frowned. "Sixty-three thousand dollars, where did that figure come from, honey?"

"Jocelyn said that the money amount of sixty-three thousand dollars was needed to be paid to keep from tearing down our historical Antebellum House."

"What the fuck?" Hudson back stepped from her with a sour frown.

She nodded. "The landowner and the university are negotiating for the land but haven't reached an agreement. Then, on the thirty-first of December, we will lose our House."

He smiled. "The payment is sixty-three hundred thousand dollars. Someone missed a zero, not sixty-three thousand dollars, doll."

"What?" Trinity narrowed both eyelashes at him.

He slapped a chest with a smile. "The landowner is my great-great-great-granddaddy. He purchased thousands upon thousands of wild wood acres, right before the American Civil War. Then, he donated a plot of land to the university to build Antebellum House for his virgin daughter to attend college and live by all the southern belle rules. The last belle rule, a southern belle marries a southern gentleman, not a redneck rouge. Then, the southern couple marry and raised a proper family and such like stuff, darling."

She frowned. "I didn't hear live happily after ever."

"What? You don't believe me."

"I don't understand, Hudson."

He frowned with puzzlement. "You keep repeating these words, darling."

"My dad didn't tell me any of this stuff. Why didn't my dad tell me some of this stuff, Hudson?"

"Why would he? He trusts you to obey him to act like a southern belle, not a..." He gasped. "Do I have to keep the storytelling the same fairy tale over and over again like a toddler?" He chuckled. "You are a cute but dumb-belle. Man! I hope our son takes after me," laughing.

Trinity back stepped from him in fury, "Hell no! I just learned the truth, boy."

He smiled, "Hell yeah! I learned the scam."

She looked down with a worried brow to see the dress, then the rock, then the sunset, and finally to see him. "I'm so sorry, Hudson. There is more to the truth."

He exhaled. "There is more to the truth. I can't image how much more to the truth."

"Chloe is dead."

He dropped open a mouth in shock. "You are shitting on me."

She nodded with a stern face. "We found her dead inside her bed this morning when she didn't show up for breakfast."

He gasped. "Wait! Today? You found her dead this fucking morning. What did the police say? When were you interviewed? You should have called your dad and have gotten a lawyer. Why didn't you do that? Wait! Why wasn't one of the beaus interviewed this morning?"

She exhaled. "Well, we didn't call the police, yet."

He frowned. "You do not call the police yet. Why not? What did you do instead? Wait! Where is dead belle Chloe? Is her dead body still inside her bedroom? Because, her bedroom is going to smell all the way up into heaven," laughing.

"Her room doesn't stink, since her body is inside the freezer of the basement."

He gasped. "What for? Why did you do that? Why didn't you report her death immediate to the local law authorities? Are you a gawd damn crazy girl, Trinity?"

She parked both hands on the waistline with a sour frown. "Because, the other belles are trying to find out the murdering killer first, we are hundred percent certain and positive that the landowner had murdered poor Chloe inside her bed last night in cold-blood."

He slapped the chest with a gasp. "I'm the landowner."

"What!" She back stepped from her and moved towards the edge of the pink dome in both fright and fear.

He extended both arms towards the landscape with a smile. "My great-great-granddaddy owned all this land."

She back stepped with a gasp further away from him in total fear. "You murdered Chloe."

He rolled both eyeballs and looked down at the pink stone of the cliff, then the dull sunset, and finally into her pink tinted cheekbones of fear, slowly moving ahead towards her with a sour frown. "Jeezus fucking Christ! Use your brain and think for a moment, Trinity! I have been fucking you every single Friday evening. Then I go back to my home like all the other beaus and leave out from Antebellum House. We all go back to our Rebel Den. You and I have been together every single second of the night. Why would I murder that bitch? She has got a foul mouth for a little cunt but is harmless like a house fly."

She back stepped away from an advancing Hudson with a worried brow of fear and a yell. "A beau murdered Chloe while leaving her stone cold dead inside her messed up bed mattress, right after they fucked."

He reached up and wiped off a sweaty face with both hands, dropping the hands and looked at her with a stern face and a nod. "And you immediately thought of me. I'm the first suspect..."

"Nonsense! You are the mysterious landowner underneath the foundation of Antebellum House. You just admitted the truth of your hidden mystery person. And I didn't know all the other valuable datum in which you and the other beaus know. We have theorized that the landowner killed Chloe. We found a bloody note stabbed directly into a right breast through the center of her heart. The note read: Whore house, not Antebellum House."

Hudson back stepped with a sour frown from her and shook a bald skull. "Gawd damn! If that ain't a fucking-ass true statement which describes a new batch of bitches at Antebellum House," he laughed with a nod at her shaky body and crying face of fear and fright and worry.

Trinity moved ahead from the ledge of the table top pink dome towards him while screaming in fury, waving both arms in the air. "Don't you dare talk to me like that, Hudson!"

He back stepped from her with a laugh and a nod. "Gawd damn! You are a whore, girl."

She stopped and stood upright a little taller, reaching down and gathered the dress hemline, strolling closer to him with a fake smile and a worried heart. "I'm a belle."

He slapped a chest and pointed to the skyline with a sour frown. "Then, you think that I fucked you for money. Now, you think that I murdered for fun. So, you think this too. I'm out of here, sweetheart."

She dropped open a mouth and scooted with worry towards his tallness. "Hudson!"

He side stepped from her advancing body and moved sideways towards the edge of the pink rock, tossing both arms into the air with a smile. "I am so happy that I have learned of your true belle inners and your false bitch intentions," he pivoted towards the side edge of the rock to face the naturally formed set of steps with a sneer, "Fucking whore!" He dashed across the pinky-red sandstone with a sour frown.

Trinity gasped in alarm and stared at his back spine with worry. "Hudson, please, I'm so sorry," she jerked the hemline of the dress up and exposed both naked kneecaps with a yell of worry. "Hudson!" She dashed across the hard surface after him with worry. Hudson swiftly climbed down the set of rock-covered steps and left the feet of the rock dome, moving ahead into the darkness of the early evening in silence. "Hudson!" She yelled into the night air gracefully glided down the homemade stairwell on a pair of dancing sandals while scouting both eyeballs throughout the landscape in panic without seeing Hudson, landing at the next to last step with a stiletto tap, instead of a heel and lost balance. She dropped forward and landed on the wet grass.

A wet face of tear hit the soft puddle of green grass and as she felt the cutting rose thorns on both cheekbones and heard the loud rip of fabric gown somewhere at the waistline. She landed on top of the wet grass with sobs of tears and sniffs of snot and red blood back up into the nostrils with worry. She coughed from the itchy combination and twisted a body upright into a pretzel, crossing both legs underneath the ball gown while reaching up and wiped off the red mucus from the nose with the hemline of the dress train.

Trinity leaned down and crawled over the dirt ground on a set of manicured fingernails and a pair of sandaled toes away from the rock staircase into the clearing, slowly standing upright on both kneecaps and jerked the abundant fabric out from each leg. She turned and searched an empty field of dull green grass, an array of dark colored wild flowers, a grove of tall shadowy tress, and the rows of short black fruit bushes as each nature plant shined through the newly raised sunset. She did not see Hudson, but the grazing horse over the open meadow. She whispered for her eardrums only. "Where did he go?"

She slowly stood upright with difficult of the long gown in a loud huff and then slowly strolled ahead with more difficulty in the long gown towards the mare that wore the saddle while brushing off the hot sweat and the strands of loose hair from an injured and bloody face. She stopped and stood in front of the horse, leaning a sweaty forehead on the stomach of the mare while regretting what she has done...naw...what she had become. She exhaled with a puff of strength and gathered her courage to fight for her rights as a belle, roughly mounting the horse and readied for her next encounter with her formal boyfriend Hudson at supper table this evening.

07:47 p.m.

Cool temperatures with parted clouds without stars

Antebellum House location

Cottage interior setting

The tall male hauled an injured and screaming Trinity by the arm towards one of the tiny pink colored wooden cottages which was located directly behind the back yard of Antebellum House. She had recalled from the first day at the orientation session that the single row of cute and tiny pink colored wooden cottages was forbidden to visit for some reason. However, the tall and dark skinned unknown male did not know that information and did not seem to care while shoving Trinity by the arm towards the last cottage,

The cottage was designed in a perfect square shaped with a flat front porch of white wooden planks with four single wooden post of pink tint. Each side wall was made of pink painted wooden planks that surrounded the entire cottage without a window opening to see the skyline and the sunlight for some reason. The front door was composed of metal and painted in white hue.

Trinity held the end of dirty dress hem in the air and bounced along the manicured grass, encountering the tall male inside the horse stables when she had trotted the mare back into the barn stall for the supper meal. The tall male wore an expensive dark gray wool business jacket and a pair of matching trousers with a red colored bowtie, who was an average height with a tone of dark skin, a head of brown colored hair, and a clean shaven face. Trinity remembered his facial features and his body frame for the upcoming police report inside the police department to the local authorities with the small city of Leed within the US State of Alabama.

The tall male stopped and stood in front of the white metal door, reaching down to the knob and opened up the door, pitching Trinity into a small room. The cottage was a single room that measured fifty feet across by fifty feet wide, and ten feet in height.

Trinity immediately recognized all of the beaus from the Rebel Den who was dressed in jackets and the other belles from the Antebellum House, who were dressed in the long skirts plus Hudson.

Hudson dashed ahead and grabbed, cuddling Trinity into a chest, back stepping away from the tall and dark skinned unknown male into the crowded forward wall that held the other beaus and belles.

A second tall and dark skinned male wore a dark gray business suit, a red colored bowtie, a head of brown cropped short colored hair, a tone of dark tinted skin, and a full brown colored beard standing upright between the door frame and the wall with a smile at each beau and belle. "Please do not move."

The same tall and dark skinned unknown male stopped and stood in front of the closing front door beside a set of five other unknown and standing upright tall and dark skinned men and females in silence, staring at each belle and beau. They all were dressed in a gray business suit. Each man wore a pair of trousers. Each woman displayed a knee-length skirt. Each person smiled with a set of good teeth and held upright a hand gun in each folded fist in silence.

Stephan cuddled with both Spring and Autumn into a chest with a sneer at each unknown male and female on the entrance wall. "We ain't armed in here, bubba."

The second tall and dark skinned male between the doorway and the side wall smiled at Stephan. "I do not care."

Trinity leaned over and whisper with a worried brow into the cheekbone of Hudson. "What's going on here, Hudson?"

Hudson whispered back with a stern face at each unknown male and female. "I don't know, Trinity. But you are safe with me. So we do what they want. I jogged back to Antebellum House into the dining room. I found them. They were holding the other group of male beaus and female belles as a group of hostages. I think this might be a kidnapping. And all the bastards and bastardettes have picked the right set of kids to kidnap, since each pair of parents is a wealthy billionaire," he leaned over and gently kissed her cheekbone, pulling back with a smile. "Don't worry! Our parents will give all their billionaires for us, bratty kids. Just do what they want! And we will be safe and fine, darling."

Trinity giggled with a grin. "I like to read all the e-novels with the adventures of The Quartet, Tom by Ela. I like Tom Sawyer the best. Who do you like of the men of the Quartet?"

He smiled. "Austin Berrington, who shoots first and asks the questions never," he softly chuckled into her face.

She smiled. "I thought you would like Tom the best. He is a lawyer like you."

He grinned. "Austin is a lawyer and the boss of the Quartet. I am going to be like him, one day."

She exhaled with a whisper into his face. "I'm so sorry, Hudson."

Hudson hugged her with a whisper and a smile of love and protection. "I'm sorry for yelling at your pretty face. I love you, too, Trinity."

She whispered. "I love you, too, Hudson."

The second tall and dark skinned unknown male between the door way and the side wall smiled at each belle and beau. "I am conducting a business transaction that is incomplete with each one of your parents. I would like for you to meet all of my business associates," he pointed to wall that held the line of seven men and females, who all wore a gray business suit and held a set of twin black colored hand guns.

Gerrit cuddled Jocelyn with love and protection and said with a sneer to the leader of the unknown kidnapper, "Business assholes with their asshole guns."

The second tall and dark skinned unknown male between the door way and the side wall continued to smile at each belle and beau. "There are six business associates holding and aiming a set of twin hand pistols at your heart. So, let us conduct and finish our business transaction, since I have other appointments to keep."

Gerrit turned and snarled at the beau, who stood tall among the wall of six kidnappers. "We suspected you of something evil, sir. Your spy, who is named Doss, is also the cold-blooded murderer of the little belle named Chloe."

Stephan growled at the leader, who beside the wall of six kidnappers. "I know chicken shit Doss by name and sight. When I am free and my belles are safe, I will get to know you better asswipe Doss. But who are you, leader asshole?"

The tall and dark skinned unknown male between the door way and the side wall continued to smile at each belle and beau. "I am Brone."

Hudson gasped in alarm and nodded with a stern face, pointing at Brone. "I know that name, since it is very unique. He started the proxy fight for the land with my dad and the university. Gawd dawn! This is all about the land. Well, hell! Take all the fucking land. I can speak for my father right now. I will personally ride with you to the court house while we wait for my dad to sign over the deed and end all this mess. You will release the belles first. Then, you take me and we can all go to the court house right now."

Gerrit sneered at Brone with a nod. "I'm coming along with you, Hudson, for your safety."

"Thanks, Gerrit!" Hudson nodded with a smile at Brone.

"I'll go with you, too, Hudson." Trinity sneered at Brone to protect her boyfriend Hudson.

Hudson whispered into her face. "No. I want you safe and sound here at Antebellum House. Gerrit will come and watch over me. Then this mess will end once and forever."

Brone smiled at Hudson. "You are incorrect, young sir. This is not about the land."

Hudson frowned. "What is this mess about, sir?"

Brone smiled. "I am not a southern gentleman as I unhappily report. This matter involves all of you including your parents also."

Bethel shifted side to side inside the arms of her beau and stumbled backward into the wall, swinging a puzzled brow down to see the object on top of the crowded floor, recognizing it instantly. She squatted down and reached out, turning over the wet pink tinted bedspread to see poor dead Chloe, who had been magically retrieved and toted out from the freezer unit that has been located down inside the basement root cellar inside Antebellum House. She gasped with alarm at the blue tinted face, "Poor Chloe! She is here inside the cottage with us," she turned and sneered at Brone with a sour frown. "You're a stupid cunt, Mr. Brone. Her biological parents are not going to pay for a dead belle body, asshole."

Peyton released her beau and swung around to the wall, looking down to see a blue tinted folded up bed cover with curiosity against the wall, squatting down to the floor and reached out, lifting up the blue colored bedcover with a gasp of alarm, "Mom! Mom! This is my mom," she reached out and touched the blue face with a gasp, flicking a hand back into the air with a yell. "This is my mom. My mom is dead, ya'll. This is my mom and she is dead," she burst into sobs and tears of sadness and worry.

Gerrit gasped in alarm. "Why is your mom here, Peyton? Why is your mom, Peyton?" He released Jocelyn and spun around to see the wall behind his back spine. The bottom of the floor next to wall was covered in an array of long pieces of colored folded bedcovers. Jocelyn spun around and squatted beside Gerrit. He reached out and touched the black colored bedspread in front of his boot toes, lifting up the soft bedspread with a gasp, "Dad!" He reached down and touched blue face with a loud voice. "Dad, can you hear me? It's Gerrit, your boy," he turned and nodded to Jocelyn. "My dad is dead, too," he spun around with a sneer to see Brone and stood upright with a growl. "Ya fucking son of a bitch..." All the twin guns turned and pointed directly at Gerrit while keeping the young adult in place.

Brone smiled at each belle and beau. "I am that and more. However, I am willing to settle this matter with..." he exhaled. "How do you say it here in the US State of Alabama? Ya'll are the remaining child from a pair of deceased parents here inside this tiny cottage on estate grounds of Antebellum House."

Hudson stood upright and spun around with a sneer to see Brone, after finding and viewing both the blue tinted faces of his dead mom and dad inside an individual wrapped colorful bedcover also, "Hell naw! I'll settle for your skull driven through a steel pike in my dad's corn field while pestering each one of the black tinted squawking crows during the night and the day, asshole, for murdering my parents in cold blood. You're dead, bitch." Three of the six hand guns turned and pointed directly at Hudson while keeping the young adult at bay and in place.

"I am very glad that we have reached a verbal agreement of death. Thank you very much, ya'll." Brone crossed both arms over a pressed and ironed white dress shirt with a smile and a nod. Then, the seven men and women discharged an array of straight bullets coming from a set of twin hand guns into each chest cavity, then each heart organ, and then each skull craniums of each belle and beau while ensuring an instant death of each child like the pair of deceased biological parents.

Hudson surrounded both arms and his body around Trinity while protecting her from the array of firing bullets as each red fire sliced into his sporting jacket and decorated the fabric strands with his red blood. He dropped down and fell over to the side of the floor in silent death.

Dead Hudson exposed the face and both breasts of Trinity. Each firing bullet rippled and ripped through her rib cage, then her heart, then her right shoulder, and then into her crying face. She dropped down and fell on top of Hudson in screaming death.

Gerrit slid Jocelyn behind a back spine while protecting her and their unborn fetus with his giant tallness as a steady fierce stream of heated ammunition bullet shredded his chest, his heart, and then finally his face. He dropped down and fell forward in silent death.

Each flying bullet ate away at the chest cavity, the heart organ, and finally the face of Jocelyn. She dropped down and fell backward against the set of horizontal logs of colored bedcovers that was really the body of each parent and hit a back spine into the wall in screaming death.

Each beau covered his belle in love and protection as each hot and heated bullet chewed up and chomped away at the pink tissue which exposed all the white bone marrow, and finally spilled out an array of red blood proteins over each long skirt gown, pair of blue jeans, pair of cowboy boots, each bloody face, and each bleeding heart organ. Then the array of flying bullets finally stopped after each magazine had emptied into silence.

Brone stood in place between the doorway and the side wall, blinking both eyelids, seeing life hearing silence, and smelling blood. Each one of the business associates watched and waited for any slow sign of life coming from any one of the young beaus and beaus. Brone smiled. "Spread out and check for a sign of life and then extinguishes it immediately!"

"Yes sir." One of the unnamed females, wearing a gray skirt and a pair of expensive designer heels, shifted ahead to the first victim, stopped and squatted down, checking the body for movement and then the neck pulse with a set of two finger pads for life.

On the wall, Brone stared with a smile at each dead body. "Bury all the dead bodies in the old gravesite on the south slope of the mountain."

One of the tall and dark skinned unknown males continued to check the next dead body for a sigh of life with a sneer. "Someone might accidently poke around here inside the row of cottages, Brone. Let me chain them and drown them down in the Tennessee River. Then, the school catfish can eat all the body parts," he leaned down and performed a wet mouth spat down on each dead body and a nasty sneer. "The nasty catfish is a redneck delicacy here in the South. The catfish is a scum-eating scavenger within the fresh river water which tastes like cow shit."

Brone continued to stand against the wall and stared at each body with a smile, crossing both arms over the dress shirt. "Salt water shrimp is also scum-eating scavenger within the ocean waters where some people like to dine on the delicate white juicy meat. The gravesite is really a graveyard for all the dead animals, such like, the horses for riding, the cows for eating, and the cats for Halloween treats. No one will venture to the lot, since it looks like a scary Hollywood theatre prop set. Because all the hired staff, which are really my hired staff, was told to dump all the dead animal caucus down on the ground and then toss shoveled red clay dirt over the poor dead animal while allowing the body maggots to eat away both the flesh and the bone."

The same tall and dark skinned male stood upright from the dead teen female and moved ahead to the next dead teen male, stopping and squatted down, reaching out with a naked hand, checking for a sign of life with a sour frown. "This USA country is despicable while treating all of God's creatures like shit. I will thoroughly enjoy plowing each sorry Alabama ass down into the ground and then covering a sweet face with tons of red clay dirt while thousands of maggot fest for the rest of the year. How certain are you that all the law authorities will not investigate our little swimming blood pool party here at Antebellum House, Brone?" He turned and scanned each wall that was covered in red blood as the blood shined brightly against the beige paint coming from the vicious shooting gallery of each dead redneck male and female on top of the cottage floor.

Brone looked down with a smile at each dead body on the floor. "Each billionaire family, who possess billions of US dollars with billions of free time minutes, is enjoying a lavish hot vacation spot around the world. One is in Switzerland while snow skiing. One is in Italy while poker gambling. One is in Spain while boat sailing. And there are twenty billionaires are someplace else but here in Alabama. Alas! A dangerous adventure becomes a dangerous ending for a few privileged billionaires in Alabama, USA. Maybe, they should have stuck with the set of the safer farm chores."

"What about this tiny shed that contains smears of dried blood stains?" The same tall and lean male pointed at each bloody wall with a worried brow.

Brone continued to smile down at each dead teenager around the room. "This is termed appropriately a cottage which is empty of an expensive art piece but simply is decorated in Alabama style with a set of common fixtures, such like, a single table, two chairs, no windows, a few reading books, and a set of eight place setting for eating dishes for food. This is a living resident for one of many service staffers who is on paid leave vacation from their work job by me. So, the air is heated in August. The woodlands are dry. A fire is most common in the middle of a woodland dry and brown forest, without proper water facilities. Burn it down to the ground!"

The same tall and lean male stood upright and spun around with a puzzled brow, moving back to Brone as his team mates continued to check for life signs among the dead bodies inside the cottage. He stopped and scooted around, standing against the wall, staring at each dead body with a whisper into the eardrum of Brone. "I don't understand you, Brone. You did this to capture an ancient historical building surrounded by miles of cotton bales for the land value."

Brone looked down with a smile at the other business partners, who was not cleaning up the dead bodies. "You do not and will never understand me. The land is owned by Antebellum House which is surrounded by the miles of crop lands and the pink quartz mountain dome. The entire real estate property is supervised by a group of investors, if you will. They send their children here to earn and to learn about their fated destiny on planet Earth."

He stared with a whisper and a confused brow at the nose profile of Brone. "I don't understand you, Brone. You did this for the other dead people's wealth of billions and billions of dollars. You are a billionaire also. I recognize that you are the current legal attorney on the Last Will and Testimony for each dead person within the individual billionaire family unit."

Brone continued to smile at each dead body on the floor. "You do not and will never understand me. Their personal money heritance goes directly to Antebellum House which includes every single penny, dime, and nickel, not to me."

"I am still not clear with your logic, Brone. Antebellum House will close, once the real paid house staffers return back from their posh vacation while finding that all the students are not coming back ever to complete the rest of the academic studies here at the college environment."

Brone continued to smile down at each dead body. "You do not and will never understand me. This will get their undivided attention."

He frowned at the nose profile of Brone. "What undivided attention are you referencing, Brone?"

Brone continued to smile down at each dead body. "You do not and will never understand me. But please make certain that Doss is covered with the moist red clay dirt first."

He whispered with a smile. "Yes sir!" The same tall and lean male moved ahead with a grin and advanced towards the back spine of Doss, reaching up and slamming a hand on top of the collar of the young man.

Doss spun around with a smile to see the enemy.
Sunday, October 8th

Town of Greenville within US State of Alabama

(Three miles, north, from Huntsville)

Soybean field location

Interior farm tractor setting

07:06 pm

Hot temperatures with clear night sky and bright stars

"Abby Gail," he whispered and then tenderly bit her earlobe, moving his warm lips down to her jugular vein, licking her neck. She giggled. He moved his lips down to her naked collar bone, kissing the bone gently, grazing his dusted black whiskers against her jaw line so gently. She giggled. He breathed in her sweet breath from her parted lips, hearing a country song within the audio speakers of the farm tractor.

The mobile telephone rang with a classical scale of musical notes. She pushed him off and reached down, grabbing, cramming her mobile telephone into the eardrum with a southern twang and a smile. "Abby Gail gives you permission to speak, honey." He hung over her breasts and watched her evil smile in silence. She paused and listened to the female on the other end of the telephone connection. "Coming! Hold her there! Blindfold her pupils and tie the satin around her wrists, just to be mean." She disconnected the conversation with an evil laugh and pockets the mobile telephone back down into the blue jeans, shoving him against the bucket seat inside the farm tractor, twisting sideways and stands upright on top of the tractor floor. She pointed down to the steering wheel column with a wicked grin. "Move this contraption, sweetie! I have to skedaddle to my new appointment in thirty minutes, boy."

The boy was six feet and four inches with a tall mesomorph frame and still growing, turning fifteen years old last week, attending high school in the rural farm town of Greenville within Madison County. He was a sophomore with his girlfriend Abby Gail playing a defensive lineman on the high school football team. He twisted sideways off the chair and stands upright, parking both index fingers inside the belt loop of the leather belt, staring at her smirk without smiling and a growl. "Abby Gail," he did not shift towards the tractor seat.

"Cody Mack, move this tractor, now, sugar. I'll be back later in the evening for your good-night kiss," she stands upright on her tippy toes and gently kisses his lips, pulling back with a wicked grin and a wink.

Cody exhaled with a huff of frustration and scooted down into the leather seat, cranking the engine into power with the highlights burning bright, shifting the gears and drove the tractor back home towards the storage barn with sour frown, "I'd ask where you're going. But I already know my answer. I'll mention this once more for your pierced earlobes, Abby Gail. I do not want you initialing Dana Jo, tonight, in your dumb and stupid club. It nothing short of trouble..."

"Whoa, cowboy! Now, you say a quick pray for wanding me that curse, before I get tar and feathered and covered in double-trouble," she leaned over and sweet breathed into his cheekbone with a sour frown. Cody narrowed the eyelids on the dark path between the two fields of growing brown colored soybean crop. Abby Gail pointed down to the floor, since her mom had taught that finger pointing at people was both wrong and rude. She ordered with a sneer. "Pray, Cody Mack, right now!"

He mumbled a wet of words in silent with a whisper. "Amen."

Abby Gail leaned over and hugged his skull with a smile, keeping away from the rotating wheel, leaning into his eardrum with a giggle. "Darling, don't rattle the rafters during a tornado watch. This is for fun for me. Dana Jo expects it. She's part of my girls, now. It's a tradition for all the new majorettes right before one of our football games to exhibit and demonstrate her devotion to our Greenville High twirling society. Annette's sister started the ritual many, many moons ago."

"And her sister is married with three kids many, many moons ago," he drove with a sour frown the tractor down the semi-dark path which he knew better than the palm of his right hand. "Do I need to remind you that a southern belle smiles, drinks sweet tea, and has a genuine polite attitude towards her mama, her daddy, her family members, and her friends?" The tractor pounces side to side over the rough pathway at the highest speed towards the storage barn.

"I'm friendly to my mama, my daddy, and you, darling," she smiled with a giggle.

He slowed the speed and stopped, parking the tractor inside the storage barn, cutting off the headlights and the engine, turning with a sour frown to see her smile.

Abby Gail reached up and fingered the pearl necklace around the throat that all southern belles wore for beauty. Her shear blouse displayed a black tinted bra over a pair of shorty-short white walking shorts. Her right cowgirl boot beat a steady rhyme of impatience inside her head.

He exhaled with a huff of annoyance. "A southern belle is nicely presentable at all times. She does not wear to revealing clothes with a set of pearls and a pair of cowgirl boots. I might suggest a nice jacket over your sheer blouse, Abby Gail."

She scooted out and stood upright on the floor with an evil, "Gimme a hug, cowboy!"

He slid out and stood upright with a huff, leaning over and tenderly hugs her, not pleased with her dumb-belle attitude for the evening with a sissy whisper. "Abby Gail..."

She pulled back from the hug with a giggle and flung a hand at the closed door. "Open the door lickety split, for me, Cody Mack!"

He spun around and slowly strutted ahead, kicking open the old door, jumping into the air and landed on bent kneecaps on top of the thick hay floor. Abby Gail moved ahead and stopped, posing with a giggle inside the tractor door archway. He pivoted and bowed both arms, extending into the air for her to jump. She leaped into the air from the lip of the door and landed inside his biceps with a giggle of fun. He leaned over and cuddled her, kissing her blonde colored hair roots. She wiggled side to side against his teenly body parts. He chuckled with delight. She pulled back with a smile and swung out the purse from a collar bone, flipping it open, looking for the item.

He stood tall over her five feet and six inches with a smile down at her blonde colored hair roots. "Be careful, Abby Gail. Call me, if something..."

"...happens. You don't possess a cell phone, Cody Mack. You're the only teen on the entire planet that doesn't own a mobile telephone. Make your mama buy you a phone right now?" She searched for the item inside the purse with a snarl, finding the item, lifting it into the air with a smile.

He exhaled. "We have debated this cold topic, until the ground froze on last February. I don't need one. And you don't need this." He reached out and whipped the unlit cigarette from her hand, turning and flicked it with two fingers out the barn door and across the barn yard for the fire ants to consume. Cody turns with a sour frown and a matching tone to see his girl. "I have asked you repeatedly to stop smoking the cigarettes. I do not like the taste or the smell."

She smirked. "I didn't have one, today. I didn't smoke for you, darling. It's just a fun habit. I can stop at any time. Let's not argue. Okay, darling?" She leaned over and tickled his chest. He chuckled, gently slapping down a pair of girly hands from the shirt. She pulled back her hand with a giggle. He exhaled with a puff of annoyance. "Have a good evening, Abby Gail! See you at school tomorrow morn." He leaned down and kissed her lips, noting the truth, since her breath doesn't taste like a nasty cigarette. He cuddled her and slowly turned, strolling out the barn door and across the barn yard towards her car and stopped, standing at the driver's door. They kissed lips and parted, wearing a grin goofy of love at each other. He leaned over and grabbed the door handle, opening the car door like a southern gentleman as he was taught by his mom. She slid in and started the cold engine with a smile. He closed the door. She jerked the gear into reverse, slowly backing out of the gravel driveway and spun the car towards her house. She rolled down the window, waving a hand with a smile of good bye.

He waves a hand and a smile to his girl for the last time, spinning around and strutted towards his house with mystery. The house lights burned brightly against a dark night sky inside the kitchen, the dining room, and the living room. He stomped ahead up the front porch steps and heard a yell of male angry and a scream of female panic, grabbing the door knob.

Kitchen room setting

Warm temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Cody rushed through the archway of the front door and dashed passed the living room then the laundry room and into the kitchen space. A set of busted stoneware was scattered across the tile. He stomped through the dangerous mess and stopped, standing inside the archway, staring at his parents. His dad stood upright and leaned against a side wall, staring down at his wife on the floor. His mom rested on a left side over the floor, still. His heart collapsed and folded with fear, dumping it down into his stomach. He quickly raced and slide over the floor on both kneecaps near a black bruised and red bleeding pretty face of his mom, extending out a set of two shaky fingers onto her swan neck. Cody deeply pressed down against her pulse into the hollow of her throat, feeling nothing. He swiftly shifted a shaky hand over and down onto her hidden heart organ underneath the bloody blouse, pressing deeply a palm into the blood, feeling nothing.

Cody swung an angry face with a growl at his father with a yell of fury. "You die now!" He leaped upright from the bloody floor and pumped both fists into the air, striking nothing due to a pair of blurry eyeballs. A random flying fist slammed into the hard jaw line. His dad hit the wall and double whipped a face back in range of Cody's fists. He knocked a left hook into the soft flesh of the right cheekbone of his father, slicing into the tender skin, leaking with a batch of red blood over the knuckles. His dad folded to the right, stumbling and tumbling towards an overturned chair, bleeding and breathing red blood protein down from two nose holes, a right eardrum, and a pair of busted pink lips over the bloody kitchen tiles. Cody spun around and strutted towards the overturned chair to finish the deadly job, when four hands touched, grabbed, and jerked on Cody away from his father. Cody fought within the two strong arms and four hands, trying to dance towards the overturned chair to kill his father.

"Calm down, son!" The male with a tongue of bad breathed down the sweaty neck of Cody. The sheriff of Madison County struggled to hold onto Cody's tallness and meanness. "Move Willie Dean into the police car, read him his rights, and then take him down into my jail cell. Call the doc, too!" The sheriff bad breathed down the sweaty neck of Cody with a deep sigh. "I'm sorry, Cody. We were in route. Your mama called 911 on the telephone landline," he turned and stared down the dead woman. His eyeballs exploded into wet hot tears and as his neurons registered a double tragedy. His dad killed his mom. The sheriff reached up and patted Cody on the collar bone with a stern timber. "Show me your hand, son." Cody did not respond, staring down at dead mom on the floor that was covered in a white sheet which had been provided by the sheriff deputies. The sheriff said, "Gimme your hand, son." Cody still did not respond, looking down as the paramedic personnel move the dead body of his mom up from the bloody floor and over onto a rolling gurney. The sheriff grabs and lifts the hand, pouring the medical alcohol straight down from the bottle over the bloody and injured hand of Cody, preventing an infection of the exposed wounds from busting the face of Cody's father. Cody did not flinch from the painful sting, since he was numb and dumb from a double tragedy of losing both his parents in one night. The sheriff exhaled. "You can come..."

"Cody..." A new face appeared and stood inside the kitchen archway with a sour frown. "Boy," a tenor voice echoed from a tall man as the male read a paper folder between his fat fingers, shaking a balding skull, advancing to Cody with a stern face and a serious tone. "I'm sending ya to..."

"...his grandma's house," nodded the sheriff.

The male stopped and stood in front of Cody and the sheriff with a stern face and a serious tone. "Naw, you can't. You're a big fellow, son. How tall are you without your boots?"

"Tall," the sheriff smiled and answered the posed question for Cody. The fifteen-year-old teenager filled both biceps of the sheriff, leaning his numbness of shock and pity into the chest of the sheriff, sobbing with tears over the loss of his mom.

The deputy stood next to the sheriff and read from his mobile telephone with a smile. "Cody is six feet and four inches based on his latest medical examination, right before the first football game, Your Honor."

"And growing," nodded the sheriff.

The judge narrowed both eyelids at Cody with a stern face and a serious tone. "Yes, I can see that. You just turned fifteen years old and still got some growing up to do. Grandma doesn't wanna you yet," he exhaled with a huff of frustration and looked down at the paper folder, reading the legal document, translating to all eardrums including Cody. "The bad news, Willie Dean's pressing charges against you for beating his face," he chuckled. "The worse bad news, Willie Dean is liquidating the house and the farm land, giving it to your neighbor..."

"But," the sheriff frowned with confusion at the bald spots on the hair roots of the judge.

The judge read the paper folder with a stern face. "The better news, Willie Dean will be charged with...you know. You won't have to see him again. I promise you, son. The best news, you are going to a reform school, instead of a jail cell, son. Based on Willie Dean's injuries and your downright bad attitude, I, as judge, jury, and executor of you could try your ass as an adult, since you are so close to the legal age of eighteen. Instead, you are going to the town of Ettaville. Have you heard of Ettaville, son?"

"Naw, Judge," the sheriff exhaled a huff of confusion, since Cody was still standing numb and dumb with his tears of sadness for his dead mom between the biceps of the tall sheriff.

The judge looked up with a smile to see the blonde hair roots of Cody. "Ettaville is a lovely city. It's located south of here, but near the metro city of Huntsville with lots of horse pastures and crop fields. Ya'll like it there, son. It's a work farm. You go to both work and school, so you can graduate from high school with a diploma and then attend one of many state universities at the legal age of eighteen years old, Mr. Cody. And there in Ettaville, you can beat up on some these hard tree trunks, instead of soft fleshy faces," he thumbed back over a collar bone with a stern face. "Take the boy into my personal sedan. He goes to Ettaville, tonight."

"Yes sir," the sheriff firmed shoved Cody around the judge and out the house door into the night air of the front porch towards the sedan as Cody slowly moved without words, only a face of tears and a heart of sadness.

The judge slowly pivoted around and moved behind the back spines of the sheriff and Cody with a stern face, strolling through the house and out the front door into the night air towards his personal sedan. He stopped and stood, opening the door, scooting down into the driver's seat, grabbing the steering wheel and cranked the warm engine.

The sheriff and Cody stopped and stood in front of the passenger door. The sheriff grabbed the door knob and jerked open the door, shoving Cody inside the nice luxurious leather seat. Cody slid down and sat inside the seat without yelling, wearing a face of tears and a heart of sadness about the dead of his mom. The passenger door slammed shut. The sheriff back stepped from the moving car and watched a sad Cody through the car window. Cody continued to stare down at the clean floor mats, thinking about the death of his mom. The sedan slowly backed out of the gravel driveway and spun around towards the north direction, leaving the farm town of Greenville within the US State of Alabama, driving to Ettaville which is eleven miles due east like the rising son.
Two years later

Present day and place

Saturday May 1st

City of Ironside within the US State of Alabama

(72 miles, south, from Ettaville)

Warm temperatures with parted clouds of bright sunshine

12:06 pm

St. James Baptist Church

Interior auditorium setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

One of the double entrance doors opened and revealed the pretty sunlight.

He entered into the room without an introduction.

The massive doors slowly closed and blocked out the bright sunshine.

He moved ahead and flipped up the black visor for sight on the motorcycle helmet with a left hand, casually strolling into an empty church auditorium, passing the fourth wooden pew up from the closed entrance doors. All the church pews were nicely decorated with a single cluster bomb of pretty yellow colored gladiolus, pink tinted dahlia, and purple toned lilac flowers which were held tightly together by a set of long yellow colored satin ribbons.

One the right side of the gun, a finger selected the full-auto fire setting in the middle of the lever. He reached over and inserted the ammunition loading a magazine with seventy-five rounds of bullets, pulling back and released a charging handle. He lifted upright near a chest a pair of two AK-47 assault weapons both cupped hands as his boot heels marked a set of red tinted clay dirt prints onto a new white runner, ending at the church altar.

Normally, a bride and a groom stood together and faced the church altar during a marriage ceremony, exchanging their loving wedding vows. Currently, the music played a sweet melody from the organist, practicing the selection of the numerous pieces of the wedding music.

He gently pulled back a trigger finger in both the full-automatic rifles. A bullet quickly discharged automatically, cycling a fresh round into the chamber, until the magazine was exhausted. As each bullet traveled through the barrel, the shell ejected out from the bolt carrier, spending another round then chambered a new bullet, when the recoil spring pushed it forward.

The photographer was busy with her hired job with a back spine and an ass to the killer fiddling with a three-legged tripod with a swaying camera for the future happy-ever-after wedding album.

He aimed the first shot at the first person to the right within his eyesight a nameless blonde, who stand beside the nameless photographer first and then the second shot killed the nameless black haired photographer. The third shot murdered a nameless gray-haired organist, who continued to sit behind the piano, playing the loud wedding march. Then, the rest of the bullets escaped from the twin guns and killed in order Wharton then Amanda, then Allison, then Oscar, then Foster, and finally Amy.

Each dying victim bleed red stains all over the side walls, the white carpet, and six of ten wooden steps that created the beautiful altar staircase.

No one was left standing at the altar as they said.

He stood in place with a smile inside a black helmet and holstered both weapons back inside the pockets of the oversized black tinted motorcycle jacket, surveying the auditorium. Clear!

He removed the helmet and shook off wet sweat from a bald skull, advancing towards the body and stopped, leaning down and tugged on the morning jacket of dead Oscar. He flipped open the bloody jacket and pulled out a nicely sealed vanilla colored envelope without the red stains, muttering a prayer of thanks and stood upright with a smile, observing his magnificent handiwork.

He exhaled with a puff of work and swiftly pivoted around, strutting towards one of the entrance doors of the church and covered a sweaty face with the helmet, before exiting into a bright sunny baby blue sky of Alabama.

Inside the semi-dark archway of the fellowship hall, she stared into a newly red-painted but lifeless auditorium, seeing everything, noting anything. She spun around with a blank face to the right and slowly strolled back through the fellowship hall that was used for all type of social functions at the church.

Today, the auditorium and the fellowship hall had been nicely decorated for an early evening wedding celebration of a future newly married young couple.

She slowly strolled with a blank face by individual table with a white tiered bridal cake underneath a yellow tinted linen cloth, not stopping at the groom table with a two-tiered chocolate cake either. She strolled by eight rows of white linen covered long tables for the expecting wedding guests of a private reception inside the fellowship hall for a lunch meal.

She stopped and stood in front of the side wall with a single door, reaching out with a gloved hand and twisted the door knob of an exit door. The door opened. She moved ahead into the parking lot of St. James Baptist Church with a blank face without smiling.

Outdoors sidewalk setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunlight

The black asphalt had absorbed the bright sun and the hot heat of a fast warm morning in the month of May in the small city of Ironside within the US State of Alabama.

Her periwinkle sandals assaulted the heated ray without pain, cutting through the hard pavement and onto a vanilla-colored sidewalk which paralleled the parking lot of the church. At the city street corner of Gold and Grant Road, she swirled an ankle-length dress hem to the right, cutting sharply before accidentally hitting an active city street curb. She moved ahead at a steady but slow pace in her bridesmaid periwinkle tinted dress, carrying a yellow rose bouquet inside her periwinkle tinted gloved hands like she had rehearsed four times last night. She had pranced a pair of spiked heels up and down the carpet of the church under the verbal instructions of the happy bride.

She strolled ahead four city blocks, passing a grassy dog-and-child playground park on the left. On the right, she strolled by Mr. and Mrs. Hagan's house, a red brown brick with a three-foot fence and a matching brick mailbox. On the left side, she passed Mr. and Mrs. Miller's house and then the elderly widowed Mrs. Nelson's home. She sharply turned to the right and stopped, standing in front of a red bricked structure with a set of four columns on the front porch.

She paced straight ahead and hit the front porch, turning to the right, strolling down the private vanilla-tinted sidewalk of her home and turned to the left, standing in front of the pair of nicely clean French doors.

She sidestepped to the left and bowed her curls at a swan statue, grabbing an extra house key out from one of the folded concrete wings which was behind the webbed feet. She stood upright with a blank face and sidestepped to the right, standing in front of the pair of French doors, reaching out and inserted the house key into the lock, twisting with a dull click. The door opened.

She entered her house, dragging the dress hem over the rough patio and then the smooth tile with a blank face.

The door automatically closed behind her dress hem.

Roger Park Stadium

City of Hooverville within the US State of Alabama

(18 miles, southeast, from Ironside)

Hot temperatures with parted clouds and sunny

12:32 pm

Baseball field setting

The park used to be the home of the Birmingham Duke Baseball team in the year 1988. The Dukes had played their first game at Roger Park on April 18, 1988 against the Greenville Braves.

The Roger Park stadium held seats for 10,800 people, consisting of 3,202 box seats, and 7,598 general admission chairs which had been built at a cost of fourteen million dollars. The stadium featured ten luxury stadium suites and a large banquet room that overlooked the third base line. There were two barbeque picnic facilities and two full-sized double decker press boxes for all sporting fun and competitive sports events. The stadium hosted all types of events either on the green grass, in red clay dirt or on top of bald spots when it rained during the calendar year.

The stadium held high school and college football and baseball games, musical concerts, fun circuses, high school marching band competitions, and delicious food festivals accompanying the fun events. The parking lot could hold 3,000 individual cars.

Today, there were thirty-six assorted colorful and different types of vehicles inside a parking spot. Eighteen of the thirty six vehicles belonged to the profession working staff of the US Marshal Branch office in metro city Birmingham within the US State of Alabama.

The umpire tossed an arm into the air with a stern face, looking at the rear skull of the batter, "Strike!"

The catcher was a tall and athletic-built male of thirty something years old with a head of blonde hair, a tone of slightly dark skin, and a pair of green eyes, catching the flying baseball, squatting down behind the batter and home plate.

The batter was an older female of sixty something with a tone of dark skin, a ponytail of long black hair and slender body frame. She tossed the baseball bat down into the dirt and swung around with fighting fury and a distorted face to see the umpire, waving both arms with a shout. "No strike!"

He smirked with a smile, "Ball!" The umpire was fifty something year old with a head of gray hair, a tone of pale skin, a pair of brown eyes and of average height and weight. He had known and trusted the batter for thirteen years of his professional career, changing his umpire decision for his shit and giggles. His eyeballs darts to the young pitcher who turned and spat out a cheek-full of raw tobacco salvia from an open mouth for the kid's shit and giggles.

It had not rained in ninety-two days inside Birmingham and all the surrounding towns. The weather was hot, breaching into the mid-nineties until around Halloween time, when the Gulf Stream changed the wind pattern from the sizzling summertime heat into the arctic wintertime coolness in less than twenty-four hours.

The batter shook a cap with a sneer and danced side to side with more fighting fury at the umpire, "No ball!"

A second male possessed average height, average weight, a head of brown hair, a face of brown whiskers, a tone of dark tinted skin, a pair of brown eyes, jogging ahead towards the home plate coming from first base, picking up the young pitcher at the elevated red clay pitcher's mound.

They both trotted and stopped in front of home plate and the back spine of the fighting batter with a set of smiles.

The pitcher turned and smiled at the nose profile of the first baseman, pissing off the fighting batter, "Hawk, is the pitch a strike or a ball? What do you think?"

"Error," the batter stopped the dance and parked both hands over a hips, sneering in the face of the umpire.

Hawk, the first baseman continued to grin at the back spine of the batter. "There's no hit on error, Mink. You didn't even reach first base yet."

The batter spun around with a sneer to see the young pitcher. "Because of a pitcher mistake, it is a pitch error," she jabbed a finger with a growl at the young pitcher.

He shook a blonde skull and turned, mouth spitting another ugly the juicy brown tobacco stain on top of the poor pretty red clay, turning back with a silly smirk to see Mink, "Geez!" The pitcher turned and smiled to Hawk, pointing at the upset batter. "Did you think Mink ever played Little League Baseball at the age of eleven years old?"

"Spit out the chewing raw tobacco minerals, Cody." The umpire frowned with annoyance at the young pitcher during the fun-time business baseball game.

"Guess not." Hawk chuckled at Cody's ugly but true remark, since females did not play on a Little League Baseball team in elementary school.

"Hawk, Hawk," a pretty female known only to Hawk with a chest of big breasts inside a tiny shirt stood upright with a scream and flirting eyeballs underneath a baseball cap inside the front row of stadium seats. Hawk turned and waved back with a smile and wiggled the fingers like a little child to a blonde, a brunette, and a red headed female. All the girls waved back with a giggle for a second flirty communication to Hawk.

Cody reached up and scratched a sweaty forehead, turning with a puzzled brow, looking at the row of screaming lovely ladies inside the stadium. "Hawk, this ain't no da..."

"No cussing, Cody!" The umpire frowned with annoyance the young teen-ass pitcher.

Cody continued to stare at each pretty female inside the front row of the stadium seats that screamed out loud the name of Hawk, "Dang dating service for your sexy girlfriends. It's our annual social event. The invitation only stated one guest per employee, not one sorority per player..."

"Stuff it, Cody!" Hawk waved and smiled at each female again. They had been invited to the baseball game to cheer him on for fun, making the young teen-ass pitcher jealous, to boot. And it was working beautifully.

The umpire raised a palm with a smile to see each sweaty face. "Okay, okay, it is catcher interference. Go back to first base, Hawk. Get back on top of the pitcher's mound, Cody. And the batter needs to stand in front of home plate," he swung around and leaned down, wiping off the stray clay dirt particles from the marble plating with a sweaty smile, standing upright with a gasp.

"Hey! I didn't touch the bat or the batter." Tate stands upright with a sour frown and rips off the face mask. "Illegal call, fart baseman and..."

"I'm the ump," the umpire grinned at the catcher.

Cody tossed the ball up and down in the air with a smirk to see the back spine of the umpire and the angry face of the catcher. "Did you really mean to use that particular word, Tate?"

"Yeah, the fart baseman," Tate yelled with a sneer into the face of the umpire.

"Live with it, catcher. Play ball!" The umpire, Rob McDonald swung around the catcher with a chuckle and moved back, standing behind the ass of the catcher.

Rob McDonald was the director of the North Alabama region United States (US) Marshal Service division which was housed in downtown Birmingham. He was a stocky man of five feet and six inches, fifty something years old with a head of gray white hair and happily married to his wife Sheila for twenty-nine years with a pair of two smart and successful children and four beautiful grandchildren who all lived within Jefferson County.

His office staffed sixteen deputies within the US Marshal core that were smart and bright men and women, not including a young smartass kid who was marked at the tender age of seventeen years old as a new deputy-in-training.

Today, the office was celebrating twenty years of US Federal Service in the US State of Alabama with a food picnic for the family unit, amusement games for the kids, and a friendly game of competition for anyone who was interested in playing sports. However, the friendly family game had turned into an ego contest of single male bucks, trying to vie for the title of "total dork" in front of the young female does who were watching the male testosterone fly around and out of the ballpark.

Rob lifted and waved both hands for the visual continuous of the non-fun competitive game with a stern face in silence.

The US Marshal Service was one of the oldest law enforcement agencies within the US Federal Government. The office was created by the First US Congress under the Judiciary Act of 1789 as ordered by President George Washington to US Attorney General Edmund Randolph.

The US Marshal Service was part of the Executive Branch of US Government and the arm of the US Federal courts. The job responsibility of each US Marshal Deputy protected the court officers, the court buildings, and the effective operations of the judiciary system. The Marshal Service assisted with such, court security, prisoner transportation, serving arrest warrants and seeking out any and all fugitives. The USMS empowered a staff of deputies to execute all lawful percepts and command all necessary assistance in the execution of duty appointed by the Federal court system.

"Rob," the secretary jogged ahead to the home plate coming from the dugout with a shout, extending his mobile telephone to her boss with a stern face. Rob turned with a puzzled brow and accepted the mobile telephone, lifting into an eardrum and listened to the male at the other end of the connection, removing the devise and disconnected the call. He pocketed his mobile telephone and leaned down with a stern face and whisper to the secretary. She nodded in silence and spun around, jogging ahead back towards the dugout to talk with the other deputies.

Rob whistled for attention and lifted both arms into the air with a stern face, motioning to the scout team of deputies, back pedaling from home plate into the side wall of the dugout in silence. Cody, Hawk, Tate, and Mink raced ahead and formed a tight huddle around Rob in silence. The other deputies jogged out from the dugout to take over all the fun positions of the catcher, the pitcher, the umpire, and the first baseman, continuing the fun day of the celebration. Rob said with a stern face to each team member. "We've been called to a homicide." The replacement umpire stopped and stood next to Rob with a smile. Rob removed the baseball vest and the face gear, handing off the baseball items to the replacement umpire.

"A homicide is handled by the nice and competence boys and girls at the metro Birmingham police department." Cody tossed the ball up and down into the air as the replacement pitcher caught it with a grin. The replacement pitcher quickly spun around from Cody with a laugh and tossed the ball up and down in the air, slowly moving towards the pitcher's mound. Cody turned and smiled at all fourteen of Hawk's girlfriends with a hand wave.

Rob exhaled with a puff of duty and scanned each face. "Not today! It's a VIP in our district the state of Alabama. The governor of Alabama is dead along with his entire family. Game over!"

"In Birmingham?" Cody spun around with a gasp to see Rob.

Mink looked down at her dirty sneakers and back to see Rob, pulling out her mobile telephone the rear jeans pocket with a stern face. "His daughter is...was getting married later this afternoon," she punched out the familiar number for official US Marshal police information at the office where a skeleton crew sat and waited for such an emergency on a fun day of celebration.

"O boy!" Hawk shook a baseball cap with a stern face at Rob.

"O boy is right. We change our sweaty baseball clothes into the USMS gear and then move out. Mink, Hawk, and Cody come with me," ordered Rob.

"I wanna drive the truck." Cody turned and waved at the row of older and pretty girls.

"Naw, Cody!" Hawk reached out and dragged Cody by the arm, shoving the young kid towards the direction of the pickup truck of Rob.

Rob reached out and pulled Tate into a sweaty face with a smile. "Tate, get Antonio to finish our fun for the evening and apology," he turned and smiled at the row of screaming female. "If any the lovely maiden comes looking for me," he chuckled with Tate, since all the pretty gals belonged exclusively to Hawkins, the local farm play boy from the farm town of Blountsville within the US State of Alabama. He turned back and said with a stern face to Tate. "Then, get you and your recon team back to our mother base, monitor the situation, updating us with information, while we scout out the situation in Ironside which is about eighteen miles southwest of here."

Tate nodded with a stern face. "Yes sir," he about faced and swiftly jogged towards the dugout, wrapping up the fun baseball game for a new tragic murder investigation within the city of Birmingham.

"Hey, Tate!" Hawk shoved Cody towards the pickup truck and stopped, spinning around with a smile. Tate swung around and jogged back to Hawk with a stern face, stopping and stood in front of his co-worker. Hawk leaned over with a grin and a whisper into the sweaty nose bridge of Tate, pulling back with a nod and a chuckle.

Tate spun around with a smile to see the line-up of jiggling pretty girls, who continued to scream and hand wave at Hawk. Tate turned around with a smile. "You owe me big time on this one." He slammed a hand into the sweaty shirt of Hawk as both males chuckled with delight.

"Love to," Hawk spun around and jogged with a smile towards the truck.

The other deputies jogged behind the back spines of Rob and Mink. Mink listened to her mobile telephone for the new information. Rob jogged beside Mink with a stern face. "Mink, please update us."

She cleared a throat and slowed the pace, walking towards the truck. "I talked to the preacher at St. James Church. He found all the dead bodies around 14:29 hours. The Ashmore wedding party was scheduled for a round of blissful picture taking, before the blissful ceremony, cutting out some lag time from the church altar to the dinner reception." She stopped and stood behind the tail gate of the truck with a confused brow, looking down at the mobile telephone for any

"The groom was there with the bridal party, too." Cody stopped and stood next to Mink and behind the tail gate of the truck with a puzzled brow, wiping off a sweaty face and arms.

"Strangely enough! The entire wedding party includes the dead bride, the dead groom, and all the dead Ashmore party," she continued to stare down at the mobile telephone for new information from the crew at the US marshal office.

"Was the dead groom's family unit there also?" Cody reached over and grabbed the handle, dropping down the tail gate of the pickup truck. Rob leaned over and grabbed, dragging four packs of USMS gear, lining each one on top of hot metal in silence.

"No. The dead groom's family was not there with the dead bridal party. The dead also included one wedding photographer plus her assistant and one church organist," Mink reached out and left the mobile telephone on top of the tail gate, leaning down and grabbed a pack, dressing in the USMA gears in silence.

"Tough break!" Cody grabbed a pack of USMS gear and dressed, slamming the body vest into position over a chest.

Hawk stopped and stood behind the tail gate, reaching out and grabbed the last pack, dressing in the USMS gear in silence.

Rob tossed a black shirt over a naked chest, a pair of black sweat pants over the dirty baseball shorts and then switched out his sneakers for a pair of clean cowboy boots. He tossed a gray colored vest over the black tinted shirt which was embossed with the white words on the front chest and the rear shoulder blades: US Marshal.

They all finished changing into the official USMS gear for a) protection of the murder site without the infamous Alabama red clay contaminating the scene, and b) the FBI agents did not start shooting the US Marshal with a US Federal government issued hand weapon.

Rob reached inside the side wall of the truck bed and grabbed, passing out a hand gun from the stocked and stored gun safe for this type of emergency, since the day's fun for a dedicated annual employee picnic had become a dictated day of work.

Interior truck cab setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with natural sunshine

12:52 pm

Cody and Hawk crawled into the rear bench seat in silence. Mink slid inside and occupied the passenger seat, reaching down and pulled out the laptop from a cloth bag on top of the floor mats into her lap. She lifted the lid and typed, searching for the newest data coming from the US Marshal branch office in Birmingham in silence. Rob started the cold engine, allowing it too warm, staring at the city street for on-coming traffic in silence.

"Professional hit, do you think, boss?" Hawk settled into the rear bench seat next to Cody with a stern face and whipped out his mobile telephone, typing and searching for the newest data feeds coming from the skeleton crew at the US Marshal Office in downtown Birmingham also.

Rob drove the truck with a sigh onto the roadway. "I would think by the sound of the assassination murder, maybe. But why place a professional hit on a simple governor from a simple state of Alabama?" He drove with a stern face at regular speed onto the expressway, leading towards Ironside, a twenty-minute drive from the Roger Park baseball stadium in Hoovertown.

Mink read out loud from the laptop with a stern face. "The USMS staff has talked with the FBI. There are currently no death threats on Governor Ashmore. Period! He is...was only a simple governor from a simple Alabama," she looked down a pair of dirty cowgirl boot toes, pondering a long work night. She will need to contact her sister to care for their elderly mama, tonight. Mink had three grown children and eight wonderful grandchildren.

Mink was the oldest professional deputy within the US Marshal field office in Birmingham, transferring as a young police officer from the Birmingham police department at the age of twenty-five years old. That was thirty-six years old ago. She will be sixty-one years old, this year. She whispered for her eardrums only, "It is time to retire from this working job."

She should be the US marshal in Birmingham, giving the orders to Rob, instead of Rob giving out his commands to her, who was five years her senior. However, raising three boys, a successful divorce, and an ailing parent had prevented her step ladder track to become the boss man at the US Marshal Service.

There was only twenty-four hours in a day. When you worked ten hours per day for your pay, your personal life and pleasurable sleep ate up the other fourteen. She was not jealous of Rob, since he was a good competent leader coming into the office five years after her reign as a pretend princess, when her first babe came into the world.

Rob encouraged Mink to go back to college at night, taking a set of evening classes. She did and graduated with a master's degree in computer science, arming her with a laptop, instead of a shotgun. She giggled at the Rob's words: simple Alabama.

The great US State of Alabama was not a threat to anyone. As a matter of fact, nothing happened in the great US State of Alabama but an occasion silly fist fight between a pair of two rednecks at the local football game.

However, Alabama had its share of violence like the rest of the USA, especially with the metro city of Birmingham ranked five of ten of the most violence towns within the USA. The robbers, the murderers, and the thieves kept the local police units busy during the night and day, not her.

Mink had three more weeks of profession work at her current job and then full retirement with a set of paid benefits, spending her remaining days with her grandchildren and free nights with her mom.

Her mom suffered from a debilitating rheumatoid arthritis illness, requiring a permanent caretaker for her meal times, her bath time, and the overall protection of her fragile elderly folded biological body. Mink felt sad that her lovely mom could not take care of herself anymore. Her biological sister had too many obligations with her work, her divorce, her children, her grandchildren, her house, and her everything else. So, Mink will be able to take over that duty permanently in two weeks, six days. She looked down with a smile to see the watch with a whisper for her eardrums only. "Eleven hours, twenty-six minutes, and four seconds," she softly giggled at the silly mental thinking and turned her eyelashes back to the laptop.

Rob drove with a stern face on Interstate 65, heading west towards the second expressway Interstate 59. "This to me sounds more like a personal matter on the governor, himself. I bet the Ashmore family just got in the way of the murderer, unfortunately."

Cody whipped out his mobile telephone and typed a text back to one of Hawk's girlfriend in secret. Hawk would kick his ass for playing for fun with the sexy adult female, when Cody retrieved an email address from her sexy smile during the baseball half-time break. He smiled down at the sexy text from the female, "Maybe, the groom? None of his folks were there at the picture ceremony."

"Could be a good second assumption?" Rob drove the truck with a nod at the young teen-ass excellent assumption.

Cody looked up with a sneer to see the rear skull of Rob. "Second? Man, it is first like me." He was very close to eighteen years and was classified as a highly supervised teen-in-need. He was six feet and seven inches in height with a batch of dirty shaggy blonde hair draping down over one aquamarine-colored left iris, not the other brown-colored right iris on a peach-pale face. His face held last week's black rough scruff, encompassing a pair of nostril holes and around two apple cheekbones, going down into a throat. That will never be shaved, until both Hawk and Tate tossed his ass down into the dirt and cut off the ugly black cat whiskers with a very sharp razor blade maybe with some cheek blood, but it will be Cody's.
Three years ago...

Cody had found his mom murdered in cold-blood by his dad at the age of fifteen years old and then rammed a couple of folded fists into the face of his dad for pure killing fury during his sophomore year in high school.

The on-site local judge had come to the house and sentenced Cody to live at a work farm in Ettaville for both discipline and duty of a young mischievous teen-ass.

Cody had lived and worked on the work farm for one year and six months planting corn, wheat, and cotton crops, attending and graduating high school and then completed college with an engineering degree at the age of seventeen and one-half years, classifying him as a genius teen smartass.

The US State of Alabama juvenile department was concerned about releasing a young genius smartass into the world without proper parental support, so they had enlisted Cody in the service of the US Marshal Service as a new junior deputy-in-training under the watchful eyeballs of Rob McDonald.
Present day and place

Saturday, May 1st

01:04 pm

City of Birmingham

Hot sizzling temperatures and bright sunlight

Truck ride on Interstate 59

with Rob, Cody, Mink, and Hawk

At the legal age of eighteen years in another three months, Cody had the option of staying with the US Marshal Office becoming a full deputy or venturing his neurons into a new field of study. In the meantime, Rob watched...naw...adjusted Cody's teen-ass behavior like a proud father-figure along with the assistance of another wild-ass deputy Hawkins who was known as "Hawk."

Hawk leaned over to see Cody's mobile telephone with a sour frown. "Shut," he gasped. "Kid, delete that text right now, before I beat your butthole for playing with my snow bunny," he sat back with a chuckle at the kid's nasty tenacity.

Brynard Hawkins was the second son of Luke Hawkins of Blountville, a small farm town fifteen miles north of metro city Birmingham. However, world history had proven over time that the second born child received nothing in terms of property or money assets for making a living or providing for a future.

Luke Hawkins proved to be no different, since his first born son was inheriting the profitable cotton plantation, after high school graduation.

Brynard Hawkins like a smart and wise hawk decided to join the local police department, becoming a deputy sheriff on the night time shift, going to college during the daylights hours. He graduated with an accounting degree and then was invited by Rob to join the Birmingham field office of the US Marshal Office. Of course, Hawk wisely accepted the prime offer.

Inside the rear seat of the pickup truck, Cody chuckled at a silly brutal threat of five feet, seven inches of Hawk, trying to beat the shit out of an ass. He quickly transferred the four sexy text messages for a future eye-viewing later in the evening and away from Hawk's eyeballs with an evil snigger.

Mink sent a text to her sister, explaining the reason for working late at the office tonight, saying out loud to all eardrums of the newest information. "The FBI is in the process of communicating with the church staff, the family cousins, the local neighbors, the wedding planner, the cater company, and all other relative persons of interest way too many names to rattle off, before we reach the church grounds."

Hawk typed a text to one of his many girls with a smile. "Why are we being called into this 'fruit loop bowl of nuts,' boss man," he planned a late-night date with the hot chick from the baseball game.

"How many times does a simple governor get assassinated in simple Alabama?" Cody looked down with a chuckle and typed on the mobile telephone.

Mink read from the laptop for all eardrums. "Newly promoted Governor Holland has called forth the Alabama National Guard to guard the church, the manicured landscape grounds, and the parking lot. The FBI is to investigate the cold-blooded murder. The Homeland security office is to search for a terrorist plot. Us, little girls and boys, are to clean up, and the local police department gets to take all the good PR credit."

"As usual," Cody silently read the newest text from Hawk's snow bunny with a smile.

Hawk continued to type on the mobile telephone with a laugh. "I enjoy working with all those competent..."

"What?" Cody typed another nasty text to the snow bunny with a smile. "Did you really mean to use that particular word, Hawk?"

Hawk typed a text on the mobile telephone with a grin, "I enjoy working with all those competent US Federal government agencies. Who's really in charge here, boss man?"

"Did you really mean to ask that particular question, Hawk?" Cody grinned at the text from the snow bunny.

"Governor Holland." Rob drove with a puff of frustration. "Look, scout team! First rule, our newly pledged governor has spoken. Second rule, we obey our newly pledged governor's orders. Third, we let all the incompetent US Federal Government agencies do the work," he pulled the truck off the interstate to the right and stopped at the red traffic light.

"Until, we're needed by our newly pledged governor," Hawk smiled down at the phone.

"Hawk goes to the head of the class." Rob drove and turned onto Grant Road, stopping, parking along the walking sidewalk, since all the other law enforcement vehicles had occupied all the parked spaces inside and around the church. "Get out, folks!"

The scout team of US Deputy Marshals was Rob's superstars.

On the first day of employment, they had figured out the bad villain, stopping him in all places inside a roaming riverboat. The entertainment riverboat was heading down the Tennessee River from the city of Decatur for a fresh water ride without blowing up the Wheeler Dam in Muscle Shoals.

Cody happened to be from the metro city of Huntsville, recognizing an isolated patch of radiated yellow grassy weeds inside the bad guy's vehicle. The yellow grassy weeds grew only on the landscape property of TVA (Tennessee Valley Authority), where the local nuclear plant was based.

Mink had used her supernatural computer skills, tracking the bad villain, leading to a pair of two radiation foot prints along the river bank towards the entertainment riverboat, where Hawk had engaged the bad villain.

Hawk overwhelmed with a pair of two brute fists, a pair of speedy cowboy boots, and two-finger rooster pecking eye gouging for a final defeat. FBI special agent Belfort had taken the first bullet for in the leg for Rob, making him the hero of the day.

City of Ironside

(18 miles southwest, from Hooverville)

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

1:39 pm

St. James Baptist Church location

Interior auditorium setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Rob opened the door, sliding out and slammed it show, swinging around to see the scout team with a stern face. "Show me, your guns and your cells."

Each team member held up a mobile telephone in a right hand and an issued weapon in the left. The new US Marshal Deputy was armed with a mobile telephone of technology and a hand gun for fighting.

Rob pivoted around and led his deputies down the open road of Goldmar Street, crossing at the street intersection to Brad Drive, marching over the sidewalk. The three city streets in Ironside were blocked north to south by the Alabama National Guardsmen with a loaded weapon between a set of numerous neon orange tinted barricades, stating in big letters of black colors: No Admittance.

The media circus of newspapers, television, and radio reporters and photographers were tightly huddled into a set of click groups while videotaping, interviewing, and snapping pictures of green and yellow autumn tinted trees, flowering colorful bushes, and the numerous law enforcement personnel, who were walking, talking and standing upright around the tall red bricked St. James Baptist Church.

They strutted towards the church veranda, seeing the guarded double-door entrance point of the auditorium, wearing a set of individual US Marshal official vest and body gear, but the FBI point man still lifted a palm with a stern face, stopping the scout team. Rob stopped and stood in front of the FBI male, presenting the official picture identification and validated his deputies with a head nod in silence.

The FBI nodded a baseball cap and handed a paper folder with the recent gathered police information to Rob. Rob accepted the paper with a nod of silence. Then the FBI male cleared the US Marshal scout team for entrance inside the church auditorium.

The large auditorium smelled like a garden of fresh cut flowers, marking the crime scene most usual. Ropes of police yellow tinted tape outlined the crime murder scene forming an octagon-shaped around the church altar and the dead victims. Within in the octagon space, all the pretty wedding decorations had been viciously ripped off from each pew, showing a set of torn and dangling remnants of struggled and stranded flower petals and plant stems, drifting underneath each church pew, coming from foot and body wind storm.

The first paired deputies, Cody strutted ahead into the room beside Hawk on top of the yellow police paper and turned, snapping a set of tiny electronic pictures inside his mobile telephone as part of the new technology law enforcement procedure with a puzzled brow. "This is so odd. I smell. I smell..."

"Gladiolus and..." Mink slowly strolled behind the back spines of Cody and Hawk, moving on top of the police paper, turning side to side, clicking digital photographs with her mobile telephone.

"Lilac," Cody continued to move towards the crime scene and turned, studying each empty pew, the dirty wedding runner, the church altar, and the dead bodies with a stern face and a pair of naked eyeballs, occasionally clicking a photograph with the mobile telephone.

Mink continued to click the photographs with a stern face. "Bouquets of flowers are draped at the end of each pew. The fresh smell is actually lovely that is encountering my two nose holes within a grotesque murder sight into my eyes," she frowned with disgust at the ugly mess.

Rob advanced ahead and pulled up beside Mink, handing her the paper folder with the names of the dead victims and a short summary of the viciously crime collected by the FBI. She stopped the click of the photographs with the mobile telephone and reached over, accepting the paper folder with a free hand, slowly pacing towards the crime scene, reading the information.

"Lovely, not!" Hawk moved ahead towards the crime scene with a frown of disgust, absorbing the sick outcome of a crazy murderer, loading the mobile telephone with a set of more bloody and gross pictures.

Rob picked up the pace and scooted around Cody and Hawk, moving down a bloody and dirty wedding runner that was covered with the police yellow runner with a stern face. "The FBI has bagged and cleaned the crime area of loose evidence and materials. This white church runner for a bridal walk is marked with red circles around a set of particular red clay boot prints. The runner will be retrieved for forensics analysis in a few more minutes, so snap a pic with your neurons and you cell phones for future referencing as we assist the FBI, the CIA, the DIA, the HAS, and all the other capital letters with the crime of the century in our great US State of Alabama," he turned and snapped pictures with his mobile telephone. "The FBI has grabbed all the flowers and movable possessions from each victim. Everything is in a bag inside a stationary van or headed to the FBI crime laboratory for both chemical and bio-chemical analysis and processing. Mink is absorbing the facts from a very thin paper vanilla colored folder and then will pass to Hawk next."

Rob, Mink, Cody, and Hawk stopped and stood in front of the police yellow tape, studying each dead body.

Inside the roped off police tape, a team of FBI technicians continued to the process of videotaping, bagging, and photographing each victim, outlining each victim inside a red colored marked space.

The dead organist was hidden behind a massive black baby grand piano as another team of FBI forensic experts work that death space of red wet and dried blood. The skull and the body of the dead blonde faced down onto the red colored carpet which used to be stark white tints.

The dead body of Governor Wharton Ashmore was folded sideways over the wooden floor on the side right of the photographer's camera tripod. Mrs. Allison Ashmore dropped down in death on top of her husband, staring up at the ceiling. Foster Gordon, the dead groom fell down into a spread-eagle pose onto a face and a stomach on top of the wooden floor.

Amy, the bride was draped over the body of the groom on a left side. Her eyeballs stared inside the church altar.

Oscar was crumbled onto a left side on top of his wife Amanda as she continued to stare up into the ceiling or maybe heaven.

Cody studied each dead body with a stern face. "Mikhail Kalashnikov was a tank commander during World War Two, who invented the AK-47 assault rifle. Then, he died a poor rat as a homeless starving mouse who also was forced to leave his motherland Russia like a thief from some jealous IRS assholes that wanted him to pay his share of his motherland Russia income taxes," laughing

Mink studied each dead body with a sour frown. "Thanks, Cody."

"I made up that last part." Cody turned and winked at the nose profile of Mink.

"We know that, Cody." Mink studied the crime scene with a slight smirk.

Hawk studied each dead body with a stern face. "A Russian Saiga AK-47 rifle with a pistol grip on a side-folding stock by the way is usually an imported hunting style rifle semi-auto, coming from motherland Russia."

Cody lifted and snapped more bloody pictures into his mobile telephone with a smile. "An AK-47 can be stripped down in less than a minute and cleaned out by a nine-year-old child, since there are only eight moving parts and wonderfully skill of cheap-ass reproductions all over the world."

"AK-47 wet work, I agree with Hawk and Cody." Rob stood at the end of the row next to Mink and turned, scanning the messy crime scene.

"Because, Cody Mack did it," Hawk snapped more pictures with a snigger and a smile.

Cody continued to snap the pictures with a smile. "Yeah, I did it. Doggie-do do..."

"Jeezus, please call DHR right now!" Hawk enjoyed teasing the mischievous but magnificent teen-ass as he referenced the Department of Human Resources (DHR) for an abused child by an abused guardian within the state of Alabama.

"DHR doesn't talk to the Lord, only lawyers." Mink enjoyed taunting Hawk, who enjoyed teasing the kid too much. She served as both the mother and the co-worker to the young teen-ass upon learning all about Cody Mack on his arrival day into the US Marshal Office as the new junior deputy-in-training.

Cody had lost both his parents during a violent domestic physical altercation on a hot humid August night. His dad was sentenced to die by death from a single needle inject next year that had ordered by the US State of Alabama Justice Department on a first degree cold-blooded murder charge of killing the mom of Cody and his wife.

Cody continued to snap the pictures with a smile. "There are estimated to be seventy-five million AK-47s built and brought in the world, since the invention in the year 1945. It weights seven point seven pounds in a single hand, coming prettily in either silver or black light alloy with a thirty-five inched fixed wooden stock. The barrel length is sixteen point three inches long. The ammo weights one point one pounds with a rate of fire at one hundred rounds per minute in fully-automatic."

Rob grinned down at each dead body. "Finally, Cody says something useful to the investigation," he enjoyed teasing the kid, who had been academically and mentally measured with an IQ of 180 which was badly coupled with a maturity level of a four-year-old child.

"Me, too," Mink snapped the pictures of the dead bodies with a smile.

"Me, three," Hawk back stepped from the crime scene with a smile and swung around to see the wedding runner, slowly strolling ahead and moved towards the double doors. Rob pivoted around to observe Hawk in silence. He stood in place and pointed to the evidence with a stern face. "The killer's short rifle holds one hundred rounds of bullets with a folding receiver."

Cody spun around and stared at back spine of Hawk with a smile. "The muzzle velocity is 2,350 feet per second."

"Another useful tidbit of AK gun trifle, Cody," Hawk stopped with a stern face and pointed down at the white runner, standing on top of the police yellow runner without contaminating the murder scene. "This is one thousand feet from the church altar right here. Hmm! The killer's red clay boot prints were barely inside the church lobby space, when he lovely killed all the Ashmore clan," he looked down at the white runner and then the church altar, pondering the killer's mental thoughts and the deadly physical actions.

"Fourteen point nine feet iron sight," Cody stood in place and studied part of the white bridal runner that ran towards the church altar with a smile.

"Thanks, Cody." Rob moved ahead and slowly strolled in the same foot prints as Hawk, studying the white bridal running, confirming Hawk's discovery.

Cody moved ahead behind the back spine of Mink, carefully stomping back over the dirty police yellow runner, studying the white bridal runner with a smile. "The big AK letters stand for Avtomat Kalashnikova or in a cute Russia slang as Kalash."

"Bless you, my child," Mink slowly strolled behind the back spine of Rob and studied the white bridal runner while moving over the police yellow runner.

Cody smiled. "After six decades, the AK model remains the most widely used and popular assault rifle on planet Earth, because of durability, low cost, and ease of use, as well as, being manufactured in many, many, many foreign countries. The USA is our home, since another country ain't our home, so it is the foreign part of my structure American sentence. Why do we say the terms English sentence or English word when we are Americans and not the English Great Britons? Why don't we use and say the American sentence or the American word?" He studied the red clay boot prints.

Hawk reached the entrance doors and stopped in place, studying the white bridal runner and the distance of the church alter where all the dead bodies rested in blood and peace in silence.

"I do believe that you have stumbled upon a new high school assignment for the night, Cody." Rob studied the white bridal runner and moved towards the entrance doors, stopping behind the back spine of Hawk with a smile. Mink stopped and stood behind the back spine of Rob in silence.

Cody studied the auditorium and stopped, standing beside the back spine of Mink, Rob, and Hawk with a smile. "The many, many, many foreign countries, like Albania, Armenia, Azerbaijan, Bangladesh, Bulgaria, China, Cuba, East Germany, Egypt, Finland, Hungary, India, Iran, Iraq, Israel, Italy, Poland, South Africa, Sudan, Ukraine, Vietnam, Venezuela..."

Hawk continued to study the white runner and the dead bodies near the church altar with a; smile. "What no USA representation of fraud, greed, or corruption? Well, shut my mouth, honey child!"

Cody studied the runner and then the church altar with the dead bodies with a smile. "The AK is the most commonly smuggled small arm weapon which is sold to directly to governments, rebels, criminals, and civilians..."

"...including rednecks," Hawk studied the dead bodies and then the front door with a grin.

Cody softly cheered with a smile under the watchful eyeballs of Rob, "Yeehaw!"

"Not yee-haw, Cody, dear. It is, Bama rednecks," Mink giggled.

Rob smiled. "Mink wants to take away our US Second Amendment inside the US Constitution."

"Not today, Mink." Hawk smiled.

Cody grinned. "The cheap-ass production of an AK-47 allows it to be priced between thirty to one hundred and twenty dollars, US. But prices have dropped due to massive illegal counterfeiting," chuckling with the others.

"Thirty bucks for an illegal assault rifle. Jeezus, Cody, please go and find me about three dozen. Okay, cub?" Rob smiled for fun.

"In the foreign country of Kenya, an AK-47 weapon costs a set of four cows, which is slightly down from a set of nine cows, five years ago." Cody recalled the world history lecture from high school. He remembered every line that he read from every academic textbook and the illegal downloads of illegal nasty articles.

Hawk chuckled. "Keep up the good shit work, Cody," he looked with a smile to see the gray head of Rob. "Does he ever shut the fuck up, boss man?"

Cody smiled. "The flag of Mozambique uses the AK-47 as its emblem after the rebel leaders gained power by blood and bullets."

Hawk chuckled. "Glorious."

"Gorius," Cody laughed.

"Gorius, that ain't a word, man." Hawk scratched a nose and continued to study the murder scene.

Cody grinned down at the runner. "The coats of arms in the foreign countries of Zimbabwe and East Timor both use the AK-47 gun as a flag symbol too."

Mink lifted the mobile telephone and took more pictures of the white bridal runner. "The USA regards the AK-47 as the weapon of choice of insurgents, gangsters, and terrorists..."

"...or just crazy people in general," Rob nodded with a stern face. "Everyone, turn away and moved back to the dead bodies. I have finished my analysis of the white bridal runner."

"Right on, Rob!" Hawk spun around and waited for Cody to lead back down the police runner towards the rear wall of the church altar.

Cody swung around and slowly strutted over the police runner back towards the church altar and the dead bodies with a smile. "One time, a musician converted an AK into a guitar which now hangs on the wall in the United Nations."

"Now, that's a way to enforce foreign diplomatic peace talks." Mink spun around with a smile and slowly followed behind the back spine of Cody. Cody stopped and stood in front of the police tape. Mink stopped and stood beside Cody.

Rob pulled up beside Mink and studied the dead bodies.

Hawk swiftly strutted to the row of the scout team and stopped, standing next to Rob place with a chuckle. "Talk about overkill of rapid firing! I see two assault rifles, dotting both the folks and the walls, ya'll. My smart neurons estimate that there are almost two hundred rounds here. I will repeat two hundred bullets over here," he turned to the side and moved ahead, squatting down on top of the protective police plastic, not touching the peppered wall, seeing all the bullet holes.

"Geez, you believe that there are two hundred bullets here at the murder scene," Rob turned and scanned the side wall with Hawk then dead bodies, and finally the numerous sets of red clay boot prints on top of the white bridal paper runner. The runner was twisted like the killer for firing so many rounds of an AK-47 at the poor innocent victims inside the church auditorium on the wedding day of Amy Ashmore.

Mink exhaled with a puff of worry and studied each dead body. "Lordy, the victims didn't have a chance to even breathe a last breath."

Cody turned with a smile to see the wall where Hawk was squatting. "The chamber is chromium-plated which increases the life parts of the AK by resisting corrosion and wear. This is important, since most military production ammunition contain potassium chlorate inside the primers. Once fired, the chemical elements convert to corrosive and hygroscopic potassium chloride which requires cleaning which is sorta like wiping your asshole clean, after shitting to prevent foul-smelling into others' nostrils..."

"Cody Mack, the needle on your nasty meter shows red for the day, buddy." Rob turned and frowned at the nose profile of the smartass teen.

Cody smiled at Rob, since Mink stood between him and the boss man. "And the AK makes the chrome plating a common element on all modern military weapons. The stock fold is twenty-five point four inches in length."

"Enough, Cody!" Rob turned to the side with a sour frown and moved ahead to the wall, stopping, standing over the hair roots of Hawk with a sour frown, verifying the count of two hundred bullet holes on the side wall with a pair or naked eyeballs and a mind of swift neurons.

"It sounds like a pop-pop-pop, a distinctive disturbing noise within your sensitive eardrums." Cody turned to the side and scooted around Mink with a snigger and stopped, standing behind Rob, studying the bullet holes on the wall too.

"Like pop, pop popping popcorn." Mink turned to the side and smiled with her special sound of an AK-47, moving ahead to the wall of bullets too.

Rob exhaled with a sour frown at the wall of bullet holes. "Yummy."

"I pop." Cody chuckled at the wall of bullet holes.

Hawk frowned at the wall of bullet holes, "Really, Cody?"

Cody lifted and snapped pictures with his mobile telephone at the bullet holes over the walls with a smile, "Really, bubba! I'm Swedish. As a Swedish young boy, one in ten Swedish big boys enjoy fucking up to six hours of daily porn."

Hawk frowned at the wall of bullets. "Shit, naw."

Cody grinned at the wall of bullets. "Shit, yeah! I'm proud to be one of them that enjoy porn on a daily basis."

"Shut up, Cody." Rob lifted and snapped pictures with his mobile telephone at the wall with a fatherly tone.

Mink stopped and stood between Cody and Rob with a smile. "How old is Cody Mack?"

"Underage," Rob frowned at the wall.

"Who's in charge of Cody Mack?" Mink lifted and snapped more photographs with her mobile telephone.

"Ronald McDonald." Rob frowned at the wall.

"I don't know a Ronald McDonald, but I do know a Rob McDonald," she smiled.

Cody snapped more pictures with a chuckle. "The same Swedish boys are like me, missing school, pumping iron, chewing tobacco products, and fucking girls and keeping their lives real. And in the same survey, fifty percent of girls look, do, and enjoy porn, as well."

Hawk turned and smiled at the Cody. "God bless me! Where do I find me some Swedish girls, Cody?"

"In Sweden, dumbass," Cody chuckled. Hawk returned back to the wall with a sour frown in silence.

Mink snapped the pictures with a smile. "Each girl has a pair of beautiful mint green eyes, a head of pretty curly red hair, a tone of smooth pinky-pink skin on her hidden tushie with a baby doll rounded face and a set of hot pink lips."

"What are you, Hawk?" Cody sniggered at the wall.

"American," Hawk smiled at the wall.

Mink smiled. "What's your ancestry, Rob?"

"Asshole," Rob snorted with a laugh at the wall.

Hawk chuckled with a nod at the wall of bullets, "Cody's too."

Cody chuckled, "Whoa, now! I didn't know that was an ancestral category."

Mink smiled. "I didn't know both blondes and baldies were in the same asshole ancestry database, Rob."

Cody possessed a set of pretty locks of curly blonde hair, riding on top of his broad shoulder blades, covering both of his dumbo earlobes.

Rob was going bald fast with thirteen or fourteen wimpy gray strands that covered the crown of his skull as an elderly mature husband, father, and grandfather. He nodded at the wall of bullets. "The asshole ancestry consists of many types of skull colors, including bald, blondes, brunettes, black, and red heads, skin tones of pale, yellow, black, brown, pink, and..."

"Blue," Cody sniggered at the wall.

"A blue asshole?" Mink smiled at the reference. "A blue dead body, its life is sucked out of the pinky-beige to dark brown skin and then turns a color of pretty purplish-blue hours after eternal death."

"However, I didn't hear the skin color of mink." Cody spun around with a smile to see Mink, who substituted as his pseudo-mom. Mink wore a pretty dark color skin tone of black mink when it was compared to his real mom, who was painted in pale rabbit white. He winked with a grin at Mink. "I guess these folks are just a set of sweet-holes."

***

A mink has a long sleek body and is two feet in long with a set of short stubby legs of webbed feet, a long neck, a set of small ears and two eyeballs, and a long thick tail. One-third of the mink length is its tail with an array of brown tinted strands among the black and white fur around its chin. The fur is very soft and very thick and is covered in oily guard hairs, making the animal's coat waterproof.

Mink oil was used in medical products, cosmetics, and waterproof animal leather.

On the local work farm in Ettaville, the farmers and jailed students lived off the land, the lake, and the livestock, consisting of cows, horses, goats, chickens, pigs, and other wildlife scattered around the 350-acre farmland.

A mink was a dark colored semi-aquatic carnivorous mammal of the family Mustelidae, a weasel. The fur of a mink was highly prized for its use in coats during the cold weather snow and ice wintertime.

In ancient times of the USA, the pioneers hunted the mink mammal for clothing.

Modern day farmers raised the mink on farms for money profit.
Twenty-one months earlier

Rural town of Ettaville within the US State of Alabama

Work farm environment setting

On the work farm, where Cody lived for one year and six months with three families of minks, the farmers would trap and kill the feral weasels to control the family nests from eating all the pond fish in the lakes and fruit berries inside the lush green woodlands.

A mink was a night-time animal that was active during the twilight of dawn or the dull light of dusk, living inside a forested area near the rivers, the lakes, the ponds, or the marshes. It was carnivore animal, eating muskrats, rabbits, mice, chipmunks, fish, snakes, frogs, and birds. It killed its prey by biting with vampire teeth into the neck muscle. A female mink produced three to six kittens inside a fur-lined ground level nest. The babies were weaned at six weeks old but stayed with their mama for five months and then were turned-out as an adult hunter.

The mink swam around the water for food hunting, diving down for a fish supper as deep as sixteen feet. Like the land-locked pretty black and white skunk, the ugly-faced mink-weasel released and viciously spray either a Bama redneck or a coon dog with a foul-smelling liquid golden tinted color.

The aim of the mink was lousier than a three-year-old toddler with a real pump action shotgun, since the body marked the nesting territory with an ugly scent, warning off future invaders from its home den. A mink den was located along a lake bed or a hollow log or an abandoned muskrat den. Its nomadic flaw, the mink kittens left the home den and then the set of mink parents sold their home den, moving to another one.

***

Eighteen months earlier

Forestland setting

Cold temperatures with bright sunshine

A cool day afternoon in November, three coon dogs and Cody were hunting along the lake bed and then stumbled upon an ugly sight. A big smelly tomcat had been viciously killed by a ghostly-vampire. Cody saw a set of four tooth marks that were displayed on the neck of the tomcat.

The tomcat was lying beautifully on its side inside the yellow dying grass of late autumn.

The dogs barked and found a second feline female cat and then a third feline with the same set of four fang marks. Chucks of feline meat were missing from its sliced belly. The dogs barked for a second time, alerting Cody of a new discovery.

Cody stood and dashed ahead, seeing to a smelly fish. It rested outside the lake water among the yellowish-green weeds then a second fish, and then a third fish, a beautifully colored metallic gold netted with black stripes. Each fish was slashed at the tail as its dried red blood colored the patch of pretty yellow wildflowers.

Then, the three dogs successfully tracked a scent of fresh blood from six more fish killings, totaling nine dead fish.

Cody saw a row of sun-frying golden scales in the bright light from a twilight hunt. He gently turned the fish over and over with a boot toe, examining the body, finding chewed out parts from the belly with a set of four sharp fangs.

Yet, the pond fink had only eaten three mouthfuls of the delicious raw fish and then freely left the physical evidence behind for a very stranger Mother Nature purpose.

Cody pondered the physical fish parts and fish predator, concluding that a fox or a coyote did not swim. And the carp school lived deep down inside the lake water, requiring the pond fink to dive into the cold water for its prey.

The carnivore fink had engaged in surplus killings based on the number of dead fish and numerous bites of meat probably to store a sufficient food closet for its wintertime hibernation, since the weather was about to change into snow and ice in the month of December.

This pond fink had leaped from the lake bank and dove down into the deep water, capturing and dragging a heavy fish up into the air surface, swimming with its prey right back to the muddy bank for a quick gobble of supper.

Cody gathered one of the carps for physical evidence and strutted back to the work farm to report the findings. He learned about a group of animal-lovers, who had broken into a nearby mink fur farm, freeing the mammals. But Cody also had learned from each native farmer that the mammal mink fur had been given another earned nickname, which was a "killing machine."

The mammal mink used a mouth of sharp teeth, a pair of two webbed feet, and a long lean body for both swimming and diving at the defenseless tiny colorful fishies into the local lakes. With snake-features of a sneaky serpent, the mink poached and hunt all the cute little defenseless rabbits within the woodlands.

A Bama resident was not allowed to hunt mink with a dog, since the dog could become sprayed first and then second, it might only wound the mammal, so the redneck hunter was required for the job.

When Cody returned back to the work farm, the farmer educated Cody on the fine points of a successful mink capture: Bait a cage with smelly meat, trap the fink, and then shoot it dead. The end!

Cody rigged a mink trap with smelly bait and tromped back to the scene of the mink crime, placing the trap near the lake with a piece of stinky fresh fish. Then, he stomped back home for suppertime.

***

Next day...

Lake water pond setting

Cold temperatures with bright sunshine

Cody stomped out to the lake for a second day. The mink trap had been sprung. He exhaled with a huff of nervousness and slowly moved ahead towards the sprung trap, gently placing a shotgun at his side, kneeling down on the ground and opened the cage door.

He reached inside and touched the strands of silky hair of the mink, feeling the softness, mentally thinking of his precious mom. He wished that he could have touch her smooth pale face again, desiring to give the precious gift of his love and devoted respect to his dead mother.

He slowly dragged out the dead animal from the open cage by its long tail, making up one-third of its long lean body, recognizing the sex organs as a male.

The mammal had mercifully died from sucking the blood and eating on the poisoned fish meat which had been baited inside the mink prison. When an automatically rigged door shut closed after a tiny manual trigger activated the door which had been designed by Cody. The fish meat was secretly doctored with a poison dosage by one of the work farm veterinarians for a humanity kill which was requested by Cody.

Cody could shoot, spit, and saddle like any other true Bama cowboy but killing a defenseless mammal with a hand pistol while it was trapped inside a cage. It gnawed his guts into girly hair ribbons.

He sat back on the hard ground and cuddled the dead daddy mink into a chest, patting the soft fur, thinking of his own dead dad too. He sobbed with a set of deep emotional feelings, wiping off the two eye sockets and the runny nose, until the sun bounced down into a pink and yellow set ending the day.

He whipped the accumulated crusted snot from a face, after placing the five dead minks inside a soft cloth bag and slowly moved back to the pickup truck and then drove back towards the farm house.

For sixteen months of the required jailed time, the continuous schooling, the on-going weasel hunting, and all the academic studies, he had learned. When a mink was happy, it purred like a kitty cat.

Cody had never seen a happy mink.

***

Five months earlier...

City of Birmingham within the US State of Alabama

First day employment for Cody

US Marshal Branch office location

Cold temperatures with parted clouds of gray sky of wintertime

On the first day of professional work under the watchful supervision of Rob McDonald and a happy hug from Shirley Purcell, the nice behavior had activated an old mental memory of her smooth silky skin and warm motherly touch, causing Cody to think of his dead mom.

He had smiled inside her warm hug with a set of sissy sobs and sucky tears. "Mink coat..."

His fatherly guardian, the professional employer, and his academic monitor nodded with a chuckle at the sucky teen behavior of Cody. Then Rob had chopped off the two-word extension and renamed Shirley with a new name Mink, making the young teen feel accepted into the new home environment.

A mink coat was colored in black with strong highlights of brown hairs that was smooth and soft to the touch like Shirley's skin to Cody.

Fur was the oldest form of clothing in the world. When the first cave man and woman or Homo neanderthalenisis tromped a pair of naked feet out from a summertime yellow wildflower scene and into a wintertime snow and ice covered land. It forced each hominid to hunt and don a set of dead animal skins for heat and comfort, the first usage of animal fur.

Also, a mink coat represented glamour and sophistication like Shirley to Cody.
Present day and place

Saturday May 1st

City of Irondale

Church auditorium location

Auditorium interior setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

01:42 pm

Each US Marshal deputy back stepped from the wall and shuffled back, huddling in front of the police tape for a second time, discussing the murders.

"Dang right, Cody!" Mink turned and smiled to Rob.

"I learned something new today at school, mama." Hawk continued to study the entrance doors, the white bridal runner, the rear church altar, and then each dead body.

Cody smiled at Mink. "The projectile weight is one hundred and twenty-two grams of pure shitting power."

"I'd say that they each received significant wounding effects of tissue damage as in dead, Cody." Mink frowned with a nod.

"However, if the projectile which is the bullet exits the body, then it produces a relatively minor wound," Cody smiled.

Hawk frowned. "Shut up, Cody."

"What is a relatively minor wound?" Mink frowned at Cody.

Cody frowned with a nod. "I just told ya'll. Geez! Please, open your eardrums. The bullet exiting a body produces a relatively minor wound..."

".... which continues to a relatively major wound of dead from an exploded shot," Hawk turned and winked with a smile at the teen. "Right, Cody?"

Cody gasped. "Hawk's a..."

"Don't, boy!" Hawk shook a skull at Cody.

".... a..." Cody smiled.

Hawk shook a skull with a sour frown, "No, hoss!"

".... a smartass," chuckled Cody.

"Shut up, Cody." Hawk frowned.

Rob exhaled, "Back to business!"

"Berrington," Cody shouted with a smiled.

Hawk dropped open and shut a mouth. "Right, Berrington! Cody, you're not supposed..."

Rob said. "I can see that most of the bodies have four or five shots, going directly into the heart organ or around the chest, hitting one or both lungs for an extra measurement of death on departure."

"A very good shooter," Hawk turned and nodded to the entrance doors.

"He or she didn't hit a face, either." Mink nodded to Rob.

Cody will never forget his heartfelt touch and personal face of death on his mom, exhaling with a puff of sadness and looked at Mink. "He wants us to see his personal and his private massacre of the entire Ashmore family wedding party."

"Live debates?" Rob turned and nodded to each member, starting his unorthodox cold wash session of the accumulated exchanged criminal facts which was always conducted at the crime scene. He records all verbal comments on his mobile telephone.

The FBI was the head US Federal government agency, securing the murder site. The FBI also allowed any other US Federal government agencies to view privately the entire crime scene, compiling and gathering any additional valuable forensics information, sharing with all the involved agencies.

This tragic murder involved a public civil servant which was Alabama's first family Governor and Mrs. Ashmore and all their biological children plus martial spouses.

The entire crime scene will be collected then carted and stored inside a few secret crime labs in Alabama for testing, retesting, analysis, re-analysis, and final secret results. Then, the entire crime scene will be scrubbed clean and shiny by the US Federal Government, before reporting to the American public.

Mink turned with a stern face and nodded to Rob. "The bodies do not display multiple wounds to the head, only the heart."

"Heartbroken," Cody reached up and placed a hand over his heart with a nod.

Hawk reached over and slammed Cody on the collar bone with a sour frown. "Shut up, Cody."

"No execution-style shooting," Mink frowned.

Hawk scooted around Rob and shook a skull, moving ahead and stopped, standing upright right next to the killer's exact red clay covered boot prints with a stern face, facing the scout team and the dead bodies inside the crime scene. "My first impression of this mess would be something like this. If I hold both hands parallel to the wedding runner, imitating all my ten fingers and two hands like a pair of hand guns, my index finger represents the barrel and my folded hand the hilt with a thumb up for the eye sight, then I slightly shuffle my hands up and down, motioning them like a firearm at the dead bodies. It looks like a gunfight at the OK Corral." He slightly shuffled both arms up and down with the audio sound of a stern face, "Bang. Bang. Bang..."

"We live in the south, cowboy." Mink turned and frowned at the hand movement of Hawk.

Rob turned and studied Hawk then the layout of the dead bodies, and finally back to Hawk for a second time with a puzzled brow. "Explain that thing you just did with your hands, again, Hawk?"

His arms stayed outstretched like a set of two separate hand guns and as he said with a stern face. "See how the bodies are angled funny? Oscar is on top of his wife Amanda..."

Cody spun around and studied the death screen with a nod. "The murderous coward shot first the photographer assistant in the back."

Hawk raised an index finger like a hand gun. "Correct, mate! Picture this! To me, it looks like the gunman took out the organist and then he..."

"He?" Mink turned and frowned at Hawk.

Hawk shifted both index fingers up and down like shooting a gun. "He, as in male, from my observed but still working-ass out murderer theory, killed the organist first and then the photographer, who didn't have chance in hell. Then, he killed the governor and then his wife, and then Amanda. He swiftly reloads a second magazine, since there are 200 pot holes of bullets, decorating the tan colored wall. He quickly rotates the AK-47, back targeting to Allison and then..."

Cody studied the bodies and walls. "Yeah, I see the complete picture, now, Hawk. He rotates the killing machine from the left to the right like reading a murder novel," then he extends both hands in a gun position near a chest and fired a set of fake bullets at the dead bodies, too.

"O no! You just don't do and say that, Cody." Mink turned and frowned at the blonde hairy skull of Cody.

Cody swayed side to side with both raised hands, pretending to be the killing machine with the bang sounds.

"Cody has shit his white lace panties, again. Rob, change the baby's diapers please, since the dookie's affecting his mouth." Hawk shuffled both hands with a snigger and fired a set of fake bullets at the dead bodies again, too.

"Sorry. It just slipped out that way." Cody continued to shuffle both hands and fire a set of fake bullets at each dead body.

"What type of gun would do that fire from to the left to the right, without stopping?" Rob ignored the bantering of his employee and studied both the walls and dead bodies.

Mink turned and nodded with a stern face to see Rob. "He used a silencer. No one claims to have heard an explosive noise from the outlaying neighbors."

Cody continued to shuffle both hands and fired a set of fire bullets. "Does that mean the killer is left-handed?"

"Or right-handed," Mink said.

"Or both left and right handed?" Hawk said.

Silence invaded the church auditorium.

All eyeballs turned and cut to each face about that unbelievable murder theory.

Rob spun around and stared with a stern face at the double entrance doors. "Where's the governor's security chief for Ashmore?"

One of the double doors opened and admitted by the sunshine.

"Right here," the male was a tall with a business suit with a tone of dark skin and advanced ahead into the room, standing in front of Hawk.

Rob reached out and accepted an extended hand of the governor's security chief, "Howdy?"

The male performed and released the hand shake with a stern face. "I'm Gerando Kemp. To address your question and heightened concern first, this is Alabama with two guards for the governor and no guards for the lieutenant governor," nodding.

He swung around with a stern face to the back spine of Rob and the face of Gerando. "I'll be pissed off, too."

Mink leaned over and pinched his arm with a whisper. "Hush, Cody!"

Gerando exhaled. "Second, Governor Ashmore had instructed his underpaid and well-trained body guard protection to stay inside his privately owned residence in the city of Mountain Stream during the quickie morning session of a few wedding photos. The rehearsal dinner was last night which actually lasted after midnight for both the guests and the wedding party. We all slept late into the morning today with permission from Governor Ashmore. The body guard protection was also assisting the local police unit in checking any last minute wedding guests for the gigantic blow-out evening wedding receptions. That's plural, too. In essence, Ashmore signed his own death warrant, a foolish choice," he shook a skull and viewed the circle of dead bodies in the front of the church altar.

"More like a foolish chance, this happened at all," nodded Rob.

Cody nodded. "I agree with Rob. This is the great State of Alabama where nothing happens here..."

"...except, my chosen college football team wins the National Football Championship, again. Burn U!" Hawk spun around and moved ahead over the police protective plastic towards the dead bodies with a smile.

"That was the previously last year, good buddy," Cody nodded with a chuckle at Hawk.

"This year, watch me and Bam U dance a jig on top of all your tomato plants, Cody," Hawk chuckled with Cody.

Rob frowned, "Hawk!"

Mink nodded with a stern face at Hawk, "Let us go back to our working-out theory 101! Hawk, please enlighten Mr. Kemp about our killing chat-chit." She turned and faced the dead bodies behind the police tape, forming a new row of investigators.

"O no! You just had to say it. Don't you, Mink?" Cody spun around beside Mink with a chuckle. Hawk stood next to Cody. Gerando stood between Hawk and Rob. They all stared at the dead bodies with a stern face.

Hawk lifted and pointed both hands like a set of twin guns at the church altar. "My theory is the shooter used two guns."

"No way, buddy!" Cody shook his curls with a stern face at the dead bodies. "That theory is flying towards a foul ball."

"Off track, Hawk," Mink shook a ponytail and continued to stare down at the dead bodies.

Rob nodded with a stern face and stared at the dead bodies. "On base, I like the theory of two guns. I think it's plausible." He passed the paper folder to Hawk for examination.

Hawk accepted the paper folder and pointed down at the crime scene with one pretend hand gun in the shape of a hand. "The way the bodies fall is proof of my kill theory. If Amanda was shot first, starting from the left to right kill theory, then Oscar would lay on his left side or his back spine, instead of his right side. With a second gun, the rotation angle would motion like a western movie with the hero..."

".... or villain," Cody frowned at each dead body.

Rob nodded. "Okay. The villain attacks the victims all the same time, even in a Hollywood movie film."

FBI agent Gerando nodded at each dead body with a stern face. "Hmm, that is a pretty good theory going there, Hawk."

Hawk opened the flap and reviewed the paper folder with a stern face. "So, we can work that angle, implying the shooter is male..."

"Not female?" Gerando turned and frowned at the nose profile of Hawk.

Rob smiled. "Mink, can you shoot with a left hand, without handing the pistol with both fisted fists?"

"After three beers and like Annie Oakley, I shore can do that great feat, boss man. And I promise you. I won't hit nothin' but my cowgirl boots. I was properly police trained to shoot a hand pistol with both cupped hands and a pair of bent kneecaps for balance. Upon hearing Hawk's working out theory, I can't shoot two guns with a single trigger finger without missing my intended marks or a moving body. That's coming from a female." Mink nodded with a stern face at the dead bodies.

"And this is coming from a very competence female with a firearm," Rob nodded at the dead bodies.

Gerando said. "So far, the profile is male with shooting knowledge of double fire arms and strong hands with a set of arm muscles."

Hawk pointed with a stern face to each dead body, "...five...six, there are six of them."

Mink pointed at each dead body. "No, Hawk. There are seven victims. You forget to include the poor lady organist."

"I meant to clarify that there are six members in the immediate Ashmore family inside this paper folder from the FBI." Hawk turned and faced Gerando. "Is this file update?"

"Absolutely," Gerando turned and nodded to the paper folder in the hand of Hawk.

Hawk turned and pointed to each victim. "Wharton, his wife Allison, the first born daughter Amanda is married to Oscar. His second daughter Amy was going to marry, this afternoon. So, where is the third biological daughter?"

"Third daughter?" Rob scanned each dead body.

"The third biological daughter is named Amber. Amber Ashmore. And she's missing from the crime scene." Hawk turned with a worried brow to see the nose profile of Rob.

Cody tossed both hands into the air with a loud snigger at each body. "Wow! We solved the murder mystery. The daughter killed everyone. Good job, Hawkins, old buddy! That was fast. And we're good," he reached over and fist bumped with Rob with a chuckle. Mink reached over and slapped Cody on the bicep with a sour frown in silence. Cody chuckled again.

"Is Amber still hidden inside the interior of the church or outside among the oak trees and fruit bushes of the church grounds?" Rob turned with a stern face to see Gerando.

Gerando shook a skull and looked down with a worried brow to see the boot toes. "The church, the lawn grounds, the bottom level basement, and the parking lot are empty of pedestrians, neighbors, church staff, family members, and guests. The only occupants are located here inside the auditorium, where the wedding was taking place today. Amber should sadly be right here among the dead," he looked up with a puzzled brow and scanned each dead body again.

"What about the small chapel on the east side of the church?" Mink asked.

Gerando nodded. "The small east chapel is empty and clean of dust, dirt, and danger."

Rob frowned. "Where is Amber?"

"Does she live out of the state of Alabama?" Mink inquired.

Hawk looked down and flipped through the paper folder. "No. She is a native living here in Birmingham."

"You know this from personal experience, Hawk?" Cody smiled.

"No. Amber's the pretty one and not married, yet," smiled Hawk.

"The lady's man," chuckled Cody.

"Here, here!" Hawk leaned over with a smile and a whisper to Cody.

"Do you know her, Hawk?" Rob turned and frowned at the nose profile of Hawk.

"No sir." Hawk continued to stare down the paper folder.

Mink exhaled. "If Amber lives here, is missing here, then has she's been kidnapped from the wedding scene by the gunman? He wants a money ransom, too."

Gerando shook a skull with a stern face. "The collected evidence, so far, didn't suggest a struggle or a fight with the gunman for any of the poor victims. We didn't find any leading notes, stationary, or letters of forgiveness of a ransom note for a missing daughter, either. Honestly, that novice concept hasn't occurred to any US Federal agents here on site. Since, this mess on the floor represented everyone that was located on the church grounds at the time based on preacher-man Brother Langford's first encounter with the wedding party, before the photographer showed up for the photo session. Currently he is outside with the FBI, covering the lawn grounds for any new clues."

Cody nodded. "If she is not a victim, then she is the killer..."

"Hush, Cody," Mink leaned over with a whisper into the cheekbone of the teen.

Hawk shook a skull. "I disagree. I didn't think so. We determined that the shooter was a male with both sight and strength for performing with two separate hand weapons. I'm not changing my working out murder theory."

Mink asked. "What about the television announcement?"

Rob said. "The US Marshal Office will announce a new member to the list of wanted fugitives. He is described as five feet and six inches and weighs 125 pounds. He has a bald head and a pair of brown eyes. If you have any information about this fugitive, call us. All tips are anonymous and there are rewards available."

Cody said with a smile. "If she is not the killer, then she is a witness..."

"Witness?" Rob nodded with a smile. "That is an excellent point, Cody. We need to find her, stat."

"If she saw this mess, Amber must be hiding, maybe somewhere inside the church." Hawk looked up and scanned each wall with a worried brow.

Mink frowned with worry. "Then Amber is traumatized, frightened, or injured, maybe needing medical treatment also."

"All of the above, deputies," Rob nodded with a stern face.

Cody exhaled. "Why didn't the preacher-man mention that Amber was missing from the wedding party to the FBI?"

Mink remembered the information from the paper folder with a soft voice. "The organist was his wife."

"O boy!" Hawk moaned.

Gerando looked down with a stern face and read his mobile telephone. "I know the address on Amber Ashmore. She doesn't live at the governor's mansion in Montgomery or use the main family residence in Mountain Stream. She lives right here in Ironside on Goldmar Drive."

Rob gasped. "Goldmar Drive, that's the next intersected street from the church."

"This way!" Gerando spun around first to face the double entrance doors and swiftly led the group of US Marshal deputies down the yellow tinted police protection plastic. "Her house is around the corner. Follow me, deputies!"

02:19 pm

Home location Amber Ashmore

Hot temperatures with parted clouds of bright sunshine

Back yard patio setting

The city of Ironside within the US State of Alabama is located in Jefferson County which is five miles east of metro city Birmingham and 134 miles west of metro city Atlanta within n the US State of Georgia.

Ironside has a population of 9,813 folks.

The city has been incorporated on October 19, 1887 and had been named after a steel furnace production plant which was located within the city limits. The furnace had been first known as the Cahaba Iron Works by the employed people, but the local folks had nicknamed it Ironside.

The first United States post office had been established in Ironside on June 3, 1872. The geographical city is between the city of Homewood and the community township of Mountain Stream inside the Birmingham metro area.

The nearby tourist attractions include the Southern Museum of Flight, the Birmingham Zoo, the Birmingham Museum of Art, the Sloss Furnaces National Historic Landmark, the Oak Mountain State Park, Ironside Municipal Park, and Ellard Park. There was the Ironside Shopping Center for shopping merchandise and the Birmingham Botanical Gardens for smelling flowers.

The city of Ironside hosts an annual Whistle Stop Festival where you can always purchase various handmade items of wooden whistles.

***

Rob, Cody, Hawk, and Mink followed behind the back spine of Gerando, racing out the front doors of the church. They moved down the sidewalk, looking for the house number. The team collected two more FBI agents, strutting down the sidewalk behind them.

The FBI agents were performing an interview process with the local neighbors for any eyewitnesses of the crime.

Gerando turned and dashed towards the front door of the correct house as the team stopped and huddled underneath the front porch of Amber's house. Gerando reached over and twisted the door knob with a stern face, "Locked."

"We need to get inside like now." Cody studied the closed front door and then all the closed windows.

"We all scout around the back patio first. Let's ensure there has not been a break-in into the house or an unexpected guest has not arrived inside," ordered Rob.

The team of deputies and agents drew out a hand gun and scattered around different sections of the house.

Hawk led and turned down the east corner of the house, dancing on a pair of bent kneecaps, aiming the gun first at the grass and then at any surprisingly slight frightened movement. He saw the manicured lawn of the neighbor and the numerous FBI agents, who continued to search the affluent neighborhood for more clues of the vicious cold-blooded murders. Hawk scanned a well-groomed lawn, a row of fresh ground flowers, a set of trimmed bush hedge, and a grove of tall maple trees that blocked the nosy neighbors and the peeking toms from the outside patio.

Amber liked her privacy, living as a chic city slicker.

Hawk turned the corner and met the team of FBI agents as both scooted and stood on top of the yellow colored brick patio. He saw a small kidney-shaped garden swimming pool with the deepest water depth of four feet, not much bigger than a hot tub. The pool was used for show, rather than sport. There was one lounge chair for a single girl. He smiled with delight. She's single.

Hawk and Cody advanced towards a set of rear doors, surveying the back yard for any new people or animals. Clear.

"No show of forced entry." Hawk stopped and stood in front of the French doors with a stern face.

"Looks clear from our end, too," the FBI agent moved around the opposite side of the house. Rob and Gerando moved and stood behind the back spines of Hawk and Cody.

They all stared at the pretty set of French door in silence.

"Pick the lock, anyone?" Rob frowned.

Cody stepped forward with a smile and exhibited one of his special talents, pulling out an array of special instruments from a body vest, stopping in front of the door knob.

"Are we breaking and entering, without permission?" Gerando asked.

"No time for debating. We have to find Amber Ashmore or..." Rob exhaled. "And I don't wanna write a memo explaining the busted down front door to her Homeowners Association," he chuckled with the others.

Cody leaned over and popped open the lock bolt, easing the door open with a gentle touch and a grin.

Rob exhaled. "You are too comfortable with that smirk, Cody."

"Your order, boss man," Cody entered first and held the gun ready to kill from a surprise attack of either Amber or another invader, sliding over and squatted down on the side of entrance wall in silence.

Living room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Hawk entered second and sidestepped to the right side of the entrance wall inside the living room, scanning the space and motioned for Rob and the other company to advance one-at-a-time into the living room. He shuffled down low to the tile in a crouched position, leaning against the wall and the bookcase without visually seeing the entire space.

Rob, Cody, Gerando, the two FBI agents squatted down after crossing the door frame, lining the entrance wall, watching Hawk.

His eyeballs and a face eased around the corner of the bookcase, scanning the room. A female in front of the long windows underneath a set of low hanging green fern plants was parallel to the bookcase, sitting in the center of a white long sofa that was covered with bright pink and red roses which was attached to dark green plant stems that were sewn into the fabric.

Hawk stood upright and held a gun in front of a chest, side stepping against the entrance wall, hiding, watching her movement on top of the long sofa. Nothing! He sidestepped in front of the bookcase in plain view, watching her motion. Nothing! He sidestepped beside the sofa in her eyesight and watched her body for movement. Nothing! He paced forward near her left side and watched her face for motion. Nothing! He slid in front of her face.

The female totally ignored Hawk with the hand gun.

He stood upright in confusion and stared at her, hand motioning to Rob and the other company to advance into the room.

Rob stood upright and marched ahead with the other US Marshal deputies and the FBI agents behind as each law enforcement officer scattered to search the remaining rooms, the cabinets, and the closets for another guest or stranger. He stopped and stood beside Hawk, staring at the female with a puzzled brow, holding the hand gun at her toes.

She prettily sat straight and tall against the cushion of the long sofa. Her feet were firmly planted down on the tile. She wore the same periwinkle blue colored bridesmaid gown like her other dead sister. A small nosegay of tightly curled yellow rosebuds was held in both gloved hands. Her arms were covered in satin gloves, going passed the elbows. Her auburn wavy hair draped down towards a waist and around the neck. She wore a matching sapphire necklace like her dead sister.

Amber did not speak, move, or react to Hawk. Hawk stood directly in front of her with the hand gun drawn down at her toes also. She quietly sat and stared ahead at the far wall, blinking both eyelashes with a biological automatic reflex. Hawk lowered the gun down to the floor and turned with a puzzled brow to see the nose profile of Rob in silence. The other deputies and FBI agents scouted around the home for evidence and any secret company that might be hiding and waiting upstairs inside a private bedroom.

Rob continued to stare with puzzlement at Amber. Hawk turned with a stern face to see the dark foyer of the entrance doors. Cody slowly moved down the staircase with a stern face, after investigating each bedroom. Mink exited from the kitchen space. FBI agent Gerando and the two FBI agents advanced and stood beside Rob. Mink and Cody advanced and stood on the other side Hawk.

All eyeballs stared and studied the lonely bridesmaid on top of the long sofa.

Rob lowered the weapon down to the floor with a stern face. "Are you Amber Ashmore?"

"Yeah," Cody gently lifted and waved in the air a framed picture that matched her features. "Here, I found a photograph of her and her dead daddy Governor Ashmore from a guest bedroom."

Gerando turned and slapped Rob on the collar bone with a smile. "Congratulations, US Marshal on your find of Amber Ashmore. My work is completed here, ladies and gentlemen. I must scoot to service our new governor of Alabama. I believe your judge likes to express, your witness," chuckling. The US Marshal Office reports to the justice system of the USA, making all the federal judges a supervisor.

"Thanks, Gerando." Rob extended a handshake with a smile and a nod. Gerando spun around with the exits Amber Ashmore's house.

Gerando shook the hand with Rob with a grin. "This is your possession, Marshal. I will inform my new boss of your pretty discovery," he spun around with the two other FBI agents, advancing towards the closed front door of the house. "We'll be in touch, Rob."

Rob nodded with a stern face. "So, will we?"

The front door opened and revealed the bright sunshine and hot air. The FBI agents exited the house into the sunshine. The door closed with a loud boom.

Cody stared with a stern face at Amber. "I got another working-ass out theory."

"Yes." Rob turned and stared with a stern face at Amber.

Cody pointed at her. "If we're going on the assumption that she is a witness, then maybe she saw her family in the state of dead, after the shooter shot and killed them. Then she just zoned out of time and space from the immediately bloody trauma. So, we are here chasing a wild goose thing, not the real racehorse."

"That's a fresh point of view, Cody. We could be witnessing severe clinical trauma from Amber." Rob nodded with a stern face at Amber. "But for now, let's try and talk to the girl. Mink, could you please do the honor?"

Mink nodded with a stern face. "Yes sir," she stored the weapon inside the gun hostler and removed the FBI body vest, dropping the vest down onto the floor, appearing like an elderly grandmother rather than an eager police officer of the law.

Rob, Cody, and Hawk back pedaled away from Amber and Mink towards the beverage bar and all bar stools, eagerly watching the motherly action of Mink and sat inside a bar stool.

"Miss Ashmore," Mink advanced ahead and kneeled down over the floor with a soft timber with a smile. "My name is Mink like the fur coat." She stared at Amber, not touching the young girl. "Miss Ashmore, I'm Mink. May I call you, Amber?"

Amber did not speak, move, or act. She blinks open and shut both eyelashes, staring at the far wall of beige paint, holding the bridesmaid nosegay between her gloved hands.

Mink smiled. "Amber, did you see Amy, today?"

Amber blinked open and shut the eyelashes, staring at the far wall of beige paint, holding the nosegay between the gloves with a soft timber. "Amy is getting married, today."

"Yes, Amy..." Mink smiled with a nod.

Amber stared at the far wall and held the flowers with a soft timber without moving from the long sofa. "Amy is getting married, today."

Mink nodded with a smile. "That's right. Amy..."

"Amy is getting married, today." Amber continued to stare at the far wall, holding the pretty nosegay within the gloved hands, not moving an arm, a leg, a foot, or a head.

Mink exhaled with a puff of worry and turned to see Rob. He motioned to come to the beverage bar for a private conversation. Mink stood upright and spun around with a worried brow, moved ahead and stopped, standing between Rob, Cody, and Hawk for a committee meeting.

"Zombie princess mode," Cody chuckled.

"Shut up, Cody." Mink frowned.

"She is experiencing some type of post-traumatic syndrome, after seeing the deaths of her family members." Rob nodded.

"Without a doubt, Amber did witness something terrible with her family members." Mink exhaled.

Amber stared at the far wall, holding the flowers between the gloves, repeating with a soft voice. "Amy is getting married, today."

"Can you switch the channel?" Cody chuckled.

Hawk reached over and slapped Cody on the bicep with a sour frown. The teen chuckled again.

"Shut up, Cody." Rob frowned at Amber.

Amber stared at the far wall, holding the flowers, repeating with a soft voice. "Amy is getting married, today."

Cody chuckled. "Mink gets zombie princess duty, tonight."

Rob stared with a worried brow at Amber. "Mink does not. She has got too much computer work to do."

"What?" Cody turned and gasped at Mink.

Hawk chuckled. "Wow! Don't you wish that you got that master's degree in computer technology, now, Cody?"

"What computer work?" Cody frowned. He possessed an engineering degree from Birmingham University and could tap dance on a computer keyboard, too.

"Mink is using the computer track down the unknown shooter," Rob smiled.

Cody whined with a huff. "We don't have a good description of the unknown shooter, Rob."

Rob smiled with a nod. "That's why Mink has too much computer work to do. This babysitting assignment falls to," he turned and winked at the teen. "Cody, since he's being an obtuse ass from last week to the start of this week."

"It's Saturday, the end of this week," Cody whined with a sour frown at Rob.

"Exactly," Rob turned and smiled to Mink.

"Hey! The new week doesn't start until tomorrow on Sunday, the Lord's Day," Cody whined with a sour frown for a second time.

"Shush it, Cody!" Mink turned and smiled at Cody.

"I nominate that the shortest straw wins the Dipshit Deputy Challenge," Cody turned and nodded with an evil grin to Rob and then Hawk. Rob nodded with a grin. Hawk scratched a forehead and stared at Amber on top of the sofa.

Amber stared at the far wall and held the flowers with a soft timber without moving from the long sofa. "Amy is getting married, today."

"I gotta call my sister. Please, excuse me." Mink back stepped and shuffled ahead into the kitchen for a private family conversation, whipping out her mobile telephone and punched the icon face with a stern face.

"Shore, Mink." Rob nodded.

Hawk stared with a stern face at Amber. "I don't know. The fairy princess is..."

"Come on, Hawk. You got one-third of a chance of losing." Cody wiggled both eyebrows with a laugh and did not want to babysit the adult female during the night.

"Or winning," grinned Rob.

Hawk exhaled. "The US Marshal primary job is to protect a witness for the judiciary branch of the US Federal government. This girl probably has seen the shooter, probably needs somebody protection, and probably requires both hours of mental and physical non-sleeping supervision, during the early evening and late night. So Cody gets an equal chance of bumping off the genius and handsome team leader assignment by harassing him with the stupid silly childish short straw contest of the infamous Dipshit Deputy-do Challenge," he turned and winked at Cody. "I'm in."

Robs slid off the bar stool and spun around, advancing into the kitchen for the items with a chuckle and a grin, disappearing from the eyesight of Hawk and Cody. He ran a fair and just shop, allowing the deputies to pick and choose the case while the eager deputy learned and participated in different ways, contributing to a team approach.

Hawk liked operating in a team approach. However, this solo eye witness will be the sole responsibility of the team leader from this day forward, until the case is completely solved with assistance from the other US Federal government agencies, including the FBI, CIA, HSA, and other capital letters of the alphabet. There had been a direct kill-assassination of a US public civil servant, the governor of the Alabama, thus the entire process of finding the shooter, bringing him to trial, and then convicting him could take months.

The short straw contest was a tradition rather than a challenge.

If a selected team leader did not want the presented job, then he called the words, deputy-do challenge. Any and all active deputies could play in the challenge with a chance of not-winning the pole position of team leader, just remaining one of the team members. Thus, the challenging team leader became "the dipshit" when "the deputy" lost his own vocal call in the pretend mind game.

Rob exited the kitchen and returned back to beverage bar with Mink, stopping and stood in front of the Hawk and Cody with a nod. Mink smiled with a giggle. "The Dipshit Deputy-do Challenge. Awe, I love my Cody-cub."

Rob toted a batch of plastic straws, after cutting them into three straight vertical lines with his pocket knife, representing the challenger weapons. He raised the three straws in a hand for each deputy to select, knowing the short one.

Rob liked the Dipshit Deputy-do Challenge, building character and competition while keeping Cody and Hawk both out of major or minor trouble.

Cody reached out and grabbed the middle straw with a grin. The length of the plastic straw was a good pull, since the long plastic might allow him to bow out of this assignment, serving as a team member, not a team leader.

Hawk exhaled and stared at Amber. His eyeballs returned and looked at the straws in Rob's cupped hand. He reached and retrieved one of the straws, raising the tiny object with a sour frown. His co-workers chuckled around him.

Cody reached out and slapped Hawk on the collar bone with a smile. "Congrats, buddy."

"Shut up, Cody." Hawk turned with a puff of annoyance and tossed the shortest straw down into a wastebasket behind the mini-bar. "Okay. I am the permanent team leader, trying to find the shooter which can only be answered by miss pretty Amber Ashmore," he stood upright from the stool and advanced ahead towards Amber with a smile, unzipping the body vest and un-latched the gun hostler from a chest. He stopped and leaned down, placing each item near the wall beside the sofa and squatted down in front of Amber with a stern face.

Rob said. "Mink, please take my truck and get all gear for video recording and arrange to have Cody and Hawk personal vehicles come here and some clean clothes brought out from their individual apartments for our lifetime duration, until the shooter is found."

"Sure, Rob." Mink spun around and advanced with a swift pace to face the front door, using Rob's truck for her new assignment.

Cody shook a finger with a chuckle at the face of Hawk. "No outs, Hawk."

The front door opened. Mink exited the house. The door closed out the sunshine and heat.

Hawk smiled in front of Amber. "Find the thermostat turn up the air to eighty-five degrees."

"Shore thing, Hawk," Rob scooted off the stool and spun around, looking for the room thermostat on the far wall with a smile.

Cody frowned at the back spine of Rob. "What the dang for? We'll all burn up inside the cool house. The weather is one hundred and ninety degrees of sizzling heatness outside the cool air conditioned house, Hawk."

Hawk smiled at Amber. "First, you address me as boss man, and second, she needs to rest, maybe a quiet nap would re-boot her mental systems back into function mode."

"I like your plan, Hawk." Rob reached out and lifted the needle higher inside the thermostat. "The warm air will make her tired, and sleepy, relax her locked brain cells. When she awakes, Amber might just remember the entire sequence of gun shooting bloody events, helping us solve this little problem, quickly."

"Sleeping away her troubles, huh?" Cody removed his gear and his gun, readying to sweat.

"Amy is getting married, today." Amber stared at the far wall and held the flowers without moving.

"Something like that!" Hawk smiled at Amber.

"Geez! You sound like Austin Berrington." Cody rolled eyeballs and stared at the back spine of Hawk.

"Who?" Rob returned back and sat down on the stool, watching the back spine of Hawk.

"Hawk's hero." Cody sat on the stool with a laugh and watched the back spine of Hawk at the female sweet thing.

Hawk smiled at Amber. "Naw. A new thriller e-book called The Quartet, Austin by Ela that I found on the internet. It..." he swung around and narrowed his eyelids at the teen. "Cody, that e-novel has murder, sex, and curse words which is too complicated for your little fragile teen mind. Hell in the fuck did you get a hold of that particular novel, without the permission of a grown-up over the age of eighteen, boy?"

"Back to the zombie princess," Cody pointed Amber with a chuckle.

"Teen nerf, go and find us up some food and drinks while I doeth my thingeth with the cute fairy princess." Hawk swung around with a smile to see Amber.

Cody slid off the stool with a laugh. "I bet you one hundred...naw...two hundred bucks that you can't make the fairy princess talk, Hawk," he turned and moved towards the archway with a laugh. "Talk, Hawk. That rhymes. Talk, Hawk. Talk, Hawk. Talk..." he entered and disappeared into the kitchen.

"I'm boss and I'm cute. She can't resist my southern charms, boy-redneck." Hawk stared into her pretty face, recognizing her from various television programs, local newspapers, and local magazines.

Amber was the quiet sister of the Ashmore family, if possible. Her older sister Amanda was married to an attorney, who lived in Montgomery, the state capital. The coupled did not have any children which was a blessing in this bloody murder case.

Hawk cringed with pain and sadness, thinking that the little ones might have been orphaned or directly killed from this sick tragedy.

Amanda enjoyed the media television spotlight with her popular husband as they attended numerous social charity balls and political events throughout Alabama. She favored the middle sister Amy with a head of red tinted hair, a tone of pale tinted skin, a tall body with a nice curvy girly figure.

Amy, the middle child was getting married today to an investment broker, who resided in Mobile. She had attended the public politically and social events with her dad, the newly deceased Governor Wharton Ashmore and his wife and her mother Allison Ashmore.

The governor was into his second year of the governorship.

Amy attended numerous social events with her parents, traveling around the state, appearing, and speaking in small towns for social events. She had campaigned for her dad too. After Wharton won the governor race, she virtual disappeared from the television limelight.

Mink was working the computers databases of the FBI, the CIA, and the HAS, collecting data on all social, financial, medical, and economic about the Ashmore family.

At the moment, Hawk didn't recall if Amber was in college, worked, or married. Based on a single lonely lounge chair at the pool and a clean sparkling house, he guessed she was single. There was not a third dead male, representing one more groomsmen on the floor as her wedding escort.

Amber wasn't bringing a social date to the wedding.

Hawk smiled at her while hearing.

"Amy is getting married, today." Amber stared at the far wall of beige paint and held the flowers in a pair of gloved hands without moving.

She looked like a real princess in the periwinkle colored plantation ball gown. The long white gloves covered her arms. A sparkling sapphire necklace encircled around her neck. Amber came from a pretty world of class and etiquette. Even in the tanked economy of the US, the first class ruled with a set of social banquets, a closet of designer clothes, a lot of fast imported cars, and other luxurious material possessions while the unemployed people watched their miserable world fall apart.

Hawk was not mad or jealousy at people with millions of dollars in the bank. Life was a struggle to be free and provide for yourself and your family as stated in The Holy Bible by Almighty God. However, he did slightly question the big disparity between the social classes of rich and poor. Some were doing well. Some were not doing well. The not-doing-well-folks seemed to be treated unfairly to working or unemployed families, who needed money to pay for simple things, such as, food, heat, gas, and shelter.

Hawk did not know the personal financial numbers for the Ashmore real estate properties in Birmingham and Montgomery, but he was quite certain that her house was paid. The lawn was nicely manicured by a professional landscaper and the interior was cleanly mopped by a maid service, since Amber had inherited money, probably from her dad.

Hawk was a boy who came from a rural farm of hay, cotton, soybeans, cows, and whatever else. His dad planted to make a living for a family of four in the country hills of Alabama. Hawk was raised like a pig in the town of Blountsville which was known for the living and breathing 2,735 rednecks.

The farm had started out belonging to his great-great grandfather, giving it to his first born son Nate Hawkins. Nate had passed the farm to his first born son Samuel, bypassing the first born daughter Samantha.

His aunt Samantha had married another farmer in Blountsville down the road.

His grandfather Samuel left the farm to his son Luke, Hawk's dad.

His father Luke signed the farm over to his first born son Joseph.

Brynard was the second born son of Luke, without luck and with the nicknamed "Hawk."

Hawk also understood and respected the old southern tradition. The first born got everything, such as, the real estate, the first car, the biggest money allowance, and all the good opportunities. The second born had to fin for his or her selfie. If you happened to be the third or fourth born child, then there was nothing left in the pissing pot.

His bother Joseph was two years older and thirty years old and married at age twenty-two years to his high school sweetheart Wanda. They welcomed a son last year, who would be the new heir to the Hawkins cotton farm in Blountsville.

Hawk was not mad or jealous of his brother. Joseph inherited four bedrooms on the ranch house which was off the main road of Hawkins farm. During the hectic harvesting, Hawk pitched in with two hands and two boot toes, helping out on the massive farm. He had realized at a young age that Joseph would inherit the crops, the cows, and the chewed cull.

Hawk was a bright kid working a full-time job, studying for an accounting degree at Birmingham University, after graduating high school as opposed to his brother Joseph.

His brother Joseph took full responsibility of the farm at the age of twelve, baling hay and driving the old pickup truck with their dad, feeding the beef cows. He elected to rule the farm, not college, spending the sunrises, learning the water irrigation, the pest control system, and the soil temperatures for both the cows and crops.

However, Hawk got to chase down the set of bad guys, ruining their nasty American dream.
Five months earlier

First day of work

Huntsville, Alabama

Tennessee River location

On the first reported professional word for Cody, a loco nut had stolen a lunchbox-sized case of radioactive platinum from the active Nuclear Plant in Huntsville. Every state and federal government agency had been called into the search by plane, train, and copter, participating in the state-wide manhunt door-to-door foot search, looking to catch and apprehension the male.

Cody, Mink, and Rob had quickly been introduced at the start of a fast hot-wash inside the US Marshal Office and then assigned a stake out scout task for their first assignment of the working day. They had traveled fast in one mini-van to Decatur, lounging at a Decatur Inn as the boys and the girls had planned and then executed the play game with the other law enforcement agencies.

Cody had recognized the geographical spot from the outer space satellite photograph, living his past short teen life in the Huntsville area.

The photograph had been taken on the Tennessee River against a line of trees in the fresh water on the riverbank, not on a grassy meadow land.

Off duty deputy sheriff Hawk from Blountsville had been fishing from the bank river, enjoying a short vacation on the Tennessee River in Huntsville, when he had spotted the law enforcement action. He had not owned a fishing boat, so he had stolen one and then conned the two FBI agents to jump aboard.

Captain Hawk had driven the speed boat, crisscrossing the water, looking for the male. Hawk communicated by two-way radio on the speed boat with Mink, who relayed a tracking pattern of little tiny dots of semi-lighted prints in the red clay around the picture's sight.

On boots, the deputies of the US Marshal office had discovered a floating entertainment riverboat which was docked at the Decatur Marina that was heading out for a grand party tour of Wheeler Dam.

Hawk had sailed the speed boat toward the river dock and then had winked and sweet-talked the young female attendant into letting the men go on the sightseeing tour, without the required expensively purchased money tickets, promising a dinner and a dance with her, after the tourist-tour.

As the FBI team had searched each occupied guest cabin, finding the unknown male.

Mink had expertly pinpointed a set of tiny pink dots of radioactive remnants within the personal clothes of the male inside his hidden underwear.

As the single chase and fist fights had ensued from the cabin, down the hallway, and onto the open boar deck, Belfort had received a flesh burn from the male's firing hand gun. He had dropped his ass down the boat deck, out of commission.

Rob had assisted, instructed, and guided the paid passengers out of the dining room into the hallway, and off the docked riverboat. And Cody had searched high and low for the radioactive lunchbox. Hawk had greeted the male face-to-face hacking and whacking two fists, ten knuckles, fingers, and two legs for a final battle.

Hawk 1. Nut 0.

The team of young deputies had saved the day, the riverboat, and the dam. As usual, they accepted their thanks with pats on the back and a paycheck, two weeks later.

After the criminal male had been was caught, booked, and sentenced for jail, Rob had invited Hawk to celebrate at the Styx Restaurant near his home of Gardenville, the outer city limits of Birmingham. Rob had sat on the opposite side of the diner booth, sipping on the sweet tea with lemon and offered Hawk a permanent position as one of the numerous US Marshal deputy positions within the Birmingham office.

Hawk had accepted without restraints or reservations, since all Bama boys and some girls knew how to shoot, ride, spit, and holler from birth.
Present day and place

Saturday May 1st

02:46 pm

City of Ironside

Home location Amber Ashmore

Living room interior setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Hawk just got to do all that for pay bringing his mental mind back and stared at Amber.

She possessed the mutated red gene from the Ashmore trait in her hair, a softer color of light auburn with highlighted golden strands, shimmering in the sunlight. The color probably assisted with her proper name Amber. Her skin tone was not pale or pink-colored like most red heads but bronze with strikes of golden glows like the mineral amber. She probably got the skin color from her ability to suntan by the pool in the single pool chair.

Amber continued to stare at the far wall of beige paint and hold the flowers within a pair of gloves, without moving. "Amy is getting married, today."

Her eyes were light brown with a touch of gold specs like amber, too. Amber was named correctly. Her hair, skin, and eyes, all matched the color of amber. Her name and coloring wasn't the only feature that differed from her other two biological sisters.

Her older sister, Amanda was short, appearing around five feet and three inches with a set of sexy curves like her mother Allison.

Hawk softly chuckled, "Too short."

Her other sister, Amy was tall and large for a queen-sized girl from one of her grandparents.

Hawk frowned, "Too tall."

Amber was a little above average height at five feet and eight inches with a slender body, having no trouble to touch the floor with the shoes, leaning a back spine into the thick padded white fabric cushion. Her neck was long and elegant with a pair of taunt lean muscular arms.

Hawk smiled with a whisper, "Just right." He kneeled down on the tile, holding a hand on top of the sofa armrest, steadying a body. He was average height and slender from his hard work and sweat of farm life helping Joseph, when he wasn't playing a police officer for US Marshal Office of Birmingham.

He wiped a face, not knowing what to say as a professional psychologist rather than a confidential redneck.

Amber needed some guidance and helped with what she had or hadn't witnessed at the church. Thus, the agents needed some guidance and help bringing that crazy nutty guy in for his American justice.

"My name's Hawk," he smiled at her amber colored eyes.

"Amy is getting married, today." Amber blinked open and shut her eyelashes at the far wall of beige paint and held the flowers between the gloves, without moving from the sofa.

He smiled with a whisper. "That's great. Your name is..."

"Amy is getting married, today." Amber repeated without moving.

Hawk swung around with a smile to see Cody, who ate lunch. Cody ate and chewed with a pair of parted lips, since the teen-ass ate twenty-four hours, seven days per week. He sat at the beverage bar watching, without aiding.

Hawk spun back around to see her. "Do you want a cold beverage, Amber?"

"Amy is getting married, today." Amber repeated, without moving from the sofa.

Hawk spun around to see Cody. Cody chewed and waved a free hand to proceed with the questioning of the eye witness. Hawk swung around with a sigh and stared at her. "Allow me to fill in the blanks. Okay? Your name is Amber."

"Amy is getting married, today." Amber repeated without moving.

The door opened and showed the sunshine and heat vapors. Mink appeared and stood inside the foyer with a stern face, dropping a set of gear and bags.

Rob flew down the staircase and stopped, standing in the middle of the room, motioning for a meeting. Hawk stood upright with a sigh and spun around, moving ahead, stopping and formed a small huddle with a sitting Cody, a standing Mink, and a lecturing Rob.

Rob said. "The three-bedrooms and two-bathrooms house is empty, quiet, and very clean. Whoever is her maid service, I'm jealous."

"Well, that means she's single." Cody winked with a smile at Hawk.

Mink frowned. "Is that important, Cody?"

"Probably for Hawk, it is." Cody ate and chewed with an audio set of bad southern manners.

"The electronic alarm system is deactivated." Rob said. "She turned it off in her zombieness state."

Mink said. "Typical post trauma, her daily day and night time routine doesn't alter, only her current perception of a single bloody tragic event of losing her entire biological family unit."

"Agreed," Rob nodded. "She possesses a very good alarm system. The wiring is embedded into both the metal screens and metal door frames. The paid alarm company is hot-wired to both the police and the local fire fighter and rescue station."

"Excellent." Mink nodded.

"Are you fretting over my safety, boss man? Awe, so sweet!" Cody smiled with food between his teeth.

Rob smiled. "Naw! Unless, you make Hawk mad and he shoots you dead, then Hawk gets impeached and Mink is in charge."

"Alright, I'm in charge next after the funeral of Cody." Mink smiled with a nod.

"Not yet, Cody is still alive and making a mess over the floor, his hands, and his lips." Hawk smiled as the team leader.

Rob said. "Here's the overall surveillance plan. Set up eight hours shifts, one in bed, one with her, and one walking around everywhere outside, inside, anywhere. Mink will set up tape and record all communication devises, including the telephones, computers, and her."

Cody turned and stared at Amber. "Her?"

"We're going to record Amber's nonsensical verbal comments," ordered Rob.

"Is that legal, boss man?" Mink frowned.

Rob nodded. "I'm making it legal. I'm getting a federal judge and the permission from the new governor of Alabama to grant me the permanent guardian custody, until Amber recovers from her zombie princess state. I fear that Amber might say something that we'll miss as hard evidence for this weird-ball assassin case. We can analyze her verbal statements and body language, each night for any mental progression."

"For how long?" Mink turned and stared at Amber with a long term duty.

"And if she doesn't get out of her zombie state?" Hawk turned and stared Amber with concern.

Rob viewed each deputy with a stern face. "We try our way first, before the US Federal court gets involved."

"Her family?" Mink turned and frowned to Rob.

"All dead!" Hawk turned and frowned to Mink.

"Are the other living blood family members going to object to your plan as the permanent guardian?" Mink frowned.

Rob turned and stared with a stern face at Amber. "At this point in time, she is a federally protected witness and the only one, who can tell us what really happened to her dead family."

"ID the gunman," chewed Cody.

"All of the above and beyond..." Rob nodded.

The front door cracked open and revealed the bright sunshine and heated air. A team of audio boys and girls strolled into the foyer room and scattered, stopping and worked to set up all the audio and video (AV) equipment on eye witness Amber on top of the long sofa. They knew their jobs, setting up a set of tripods of camcorders, audio tape records, and other metal and electronic equipment throughout different directional angles, covering the rectangular living room space. All the camera lenses tilted, focused, and pointed on Amber Ashmore, who sat prettily on top of the long sofa.

Amber blinked open and shut both eyelashes at the far wall of beige paint and held a bouquet of flowers between a pair of gloved hands, without moving. "Amy is getting married, today."

The audio and visual (AV) team leader stood upright from the floor and leaned down, wiggling a long black cable across the tile floor in front of the four deputies towards an electrical outlet. He stopped and plugged in the prong, standing upright and spun around with a sour frown to see Rob. "Has anyone bothered to mention to you that the air conditioning is out? It's hot inside here. I'm sweating." The deputies smiled with a soft chuckle.

Rob pointed to Hawk with a grin. "You can complain to the boss man, right over here."

Hawk turned and waved with a smile to the rotating camera lenses on the side wall.

The AV team leader shook a cap with a laugh and moved towards Amber, stopping and adjusted the tripod stand and then the microphone volume with a stern face. "Testing one, two, three!" He looked at each co-worker and held a thumb up signal of good sound. Each co-worker nodded in silence and spun around, leaving the house.

Amber blinked open and shut both eyelashes at the far wall of beige paint and held a bouquet of flowers between a pair of gloved hands, without moving. "Amy is getting married, today."

The AV team leader spun around and shuffled to the row of deputies with a smile at Cody. "Cody won the short straw contest."

"What? How did he know?" Cody smiled with a set of food particles inside the teeth, closing the lips and munched on the food.

"It's written all over your face, Cody." Mink sipped the beverage.

"What's written all over my face, Mink?" Cody smiled with more food particles and then chewed.

The AV team leader looked back over a collar bone to see Amber and back to see Cody with a grin. "Your food covered smile, the numerous animal grunts, and the ease of victory. You're not the team leader for this new Marshal assignment. So, that could only mean that Hawk lost the Dipshit Deputy-do Challenge," he chuckled with a wink at Hawk.

Rob smiled with a nod. "He's good."

"He's great." Cody smiled with a set of food particles, closing the lips and munched the food.

The AV team leader leaned over and grabbed one of Cody's sandwiches, tossing a free hand, back stepping from the huddle of deputies, spinning around, munching on the food in silence and left the house with a chuckle.

"Great is left to be seen. Did you get her file, Mink?" Rob turned and stared at Mink.

"Thanks, AV team leader!" Hawk turned with a smile and watched the back spine of the AV team leader dash out the door. The door closed shut and blocked the sunrays.

She nodded. "Here, you go, Rob," she handed a thin paper folder. "That's all the available data from all sources, including CIA, DIA, FBI, HSA, and all the other mixed capital letters of the USA," giggling.

"You said that in alphabetic order, Mink." Cody laughed.

Rob looked down with a stern face to review the folder. "I really wanted more information. She hasn't said anything but..."

"Amy is getting married, today." Amber repeated, without moving from the sofa.

Cody laughed, "Right on cue, Rob! How did you do that magic trick?"

"Hawk does the magic tricks around here, not I." Rob read the paper folder.

"I hope that's figuratively, Hawk," Mink smiled.

Hawk smiled. "My magic, I upped the body temperature in the room. I thought that she might get sleepy and tired for a short nap. The sleep rest might revive her old memory cells."

"Excellent plan, Hawk! If she would ever take a catnap? She seemed stressed and anxious to my old gray matter." Rob continued to read the folder.

The mobile telephone sang a jazz song of saxophone notes. Mink reached down into the blue jeans and whipped out her mobile telephone, reading with the latest information from the FBI agency with a stern face. "Boss man, we need a quickie conference."

"Use the kitchen," Rob thumbed back over a collar bone with a stern face. Mink spun around with a nod in silence and led Hawk and Cody. Rob slid off the stool and spun around, following behind the back spine of Mink.

03:38 pm

Kitchen room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Mink entered the kitchen and stopped, pulling out the chair underneath the breakfast table, sitting inside the chair and continued to read her mobile telephone. "This is just in. There are multiply house fires and total destruction at Amanda's home in Montgomery and Oscar's house in Mobile in the southern part of Alabama near the Gulf of Mexico."

Cody pulled out the chair and sat down with a gasp, placing a plate of sandwiches onto the table surface, "No way!"

Hawk pulled out a chair and sat down next to Cody with a sigh, "O boy!"

"What does it this mean?" Cody turned and frowned at the nose profile of Rob.

Rob shook a gray haired skull at each face and pulled out a chair, sitting next to Mink, slapping the paper folder over the table surface and looked at each face. "Covering up some physical criminal evidence, I'd guess. Was the FBI able to recover any items from their homes?"

"The FBI is relaying that answer to me over the email system, right this minute. Email is great." Mink read the broken text messages out loud. "And the answer is no. Firefighters have responded to both fireball blazes. But the houses were too engulfed in full pretty yellow, red, and blue flames. The firefighters have performed with some heavenly miracles, keeping the flames from spreading to their neighbor's manicured green colored lawns. It's hot in dog days of August with no rain fall here, in Birmingham, Montgomery, and Mobile cities, also."

Cody reached down and lifted, eating and chewed more food. "A fire starts quickly and ends never."

Hawk exhaled, "O boy."

Mink continued to read the texts on her mobile telephone out loud. "The FBI is still emailing me. Let's see! The FBI had raided the governor's mansion immediately after the announcement of the murder, before some bureaucrat tried to cover up an assassination or the assassination. They retrieved three plastic boxes of Governor Ashmore's personal bank financial records and income statements for the past six years, before his stunt in the governor's office, and after his first two years. Whoa! The final conclusion is that Governor Ashmore was almost broke. He currently has four dollars and seventy-three cents in a checking bank account at Third National Alabama Bank."

"He owns a business." Rob turned and scanned the clean kitchen counter inside Amber's house.

"He sold the business in the month February of this year along with emptying out a saving account, cashing out his pension fund, a set of an IRA accounts, and some blue blood stocks tha are listed in some elite top one hundred companies. All gone! All cashed out!" Mink looked up with a nod to see each face.

Hawk turned and stared through the open archway of the kitchen into the living room, where Amber sat on top of a sofa in shock. "Yeah, Governor Ashmore needed some fast cash for a particular fast reason, which we might never know about or learn. But I bet Amber knows for shore."

Rob turned and stared at the open archway without seeing Amber but hearing her faint words that she repeated over and over again. "That offers a twist on her mental illness."

Cody turned and swallowed the food, staring at the open archway. "It does at that, ya'll."

"Why was Wharton murdered, if he's poor? Except, maybe, he was being blackmailed." Hawk turned and nodded back to Rob.

"He can't be blackmailed without any more monies than four dollars in a bank account." Mink shook her long black colored ponytail.

Cody turned and winked at Rob. "That's why all his monies are missing from all his bank accounts, making him poor."

"Good point, Cody." Rob nodded with a stern face.

"Does an Alabama governor need money? Maybe, he just moved it to another investment account? I am an accounting major with an accounting degree from the local university. He can move monies around at anytime and anywhere without the interference of nobody," Hawk nodded.

Mink frowned. "But where, Hawk, to Switzerland or to a bank inside the Caiman Islands of Bahamas? Let's of rich people do that. But Governor Ashmore is required to file an Alabama State government and US Federal government income tax form for all collected and recorded revenues, including his salary of sixty-eight thousand dollars and some odd cents."

"Right, Mink," Rob nodded.

Mink exhaled. "And as an Alabama governor he has the use of the mansion for free, the bullet proof limos for free, the security for free. Everything is free to him for at least four years, in which he has served two of the four years as the Alabama governor. I do believe his personal bank account would be over flowing into a second FDIC bank account of an additional one hundred thousand dollars, making his new net worth about two hundred thousand dollars. He doesn't need any of his money to pay for stuff."

Rob looked down with a stern face to read the paper folder. "Deceased Governor Ashmore has a personal residential house inside the city of Mountain Stream, which is part of the metro city Birmingham district."

Mink reached over and snatched the paper folder that came from the US Marshal and FBI data computers when she gathered clothing for Cody and Hawk, reading out loud more information for all eardrums. "The FBI mentioned that Governor Ashmore paid all his bills for the month, on time. I bet not with a very low almost non-existence Third National Alabama Bank account. Banks only pay invoices with money, at least mine does. The joint account of Amanda and Oscar, and Amy's personal Third National Alabama Bank accounts are nearly at zero point zero dollars, too." She turned the page. "And Foster Gordon shows a balance of ten dollars and twenty-three cents inside his bank account at Third National Alabama Bank. However, the Ashmore family member paid all their monthly living invoices on time and was left with no nickels for a movie and a bag of popcorn," she looked up with a confused brow to see Rob. "This is really weird, Rob."

Cody chewed and swallowed the food with a stern face. "Oscar was an attorney." He ate and chewed the food.

Hawk nodded. "By paper name only, he attended all the governor functions with Wharton while utilizing the mansion, the limos, the security, too. And he lived in a big house in Montgomery."

"We paid for that, too." Cody frowned.

Rob nodded. "We should not be paying for Foster Gordon's personal property. Let the FBI check on that."

He chewed and swallowed the food with a stern face. "Who paid for the Amy's wedding?" Cody ate and chewed the food.

Rob nodded. "That is a very good question, Cody. Weddings are very, very expensive."

Hawk frowned. "The taxpayers did."

Mink shook her ponytail, "No way! This isn't the foreign country of Great Britain and the Ashmore family is not the royal family of Alabama. Alabamians do not pay for the governor or a daughter of the governor wedding ceremony. Someone else did that with some big bucks. The church was covered in expensive floral arrangements of purple, yellow, and white flowers."

"Let the FBI figure that out." Rob stole and silently read the paper folder from Mink.

"Who benefits if the Governor Ashmore dies?" Hawk nodded.

The mobile telephone sung with a new jazzy musical tone. "The FBI just answered your prayers, Hawk. Hold on!" Ming reached over and grabbed, reading the broken texts on her mobile telephone and then thumb-typed with more questions. "They quickly analyzed the Last Will and Testimony of Wharton. So far, Governor Ashmore left all his possession, in order, his wife first and then the rest of the assets and liabilities will be shared equally among the third daughters second."

He chewed and swallowed the food with a nod, "That's normal." Cody reached over and grabbed, sipping the cold beverage.

"Now, there is nothing left to share with his dead daughters. Hmm! And how convenient that is all goes to Amber?" Rob turned and stared at the open archway with a puzzled brow.

Mink reviewed the texts on the mobile telephone. "The land can be sold."

Rob shook a skull with a stern face, staring down at his hands on top of the table surface. "No. That is part of the fixed assets along with a house. Right, Hawk?"

Hawk nodded, "Definitely! What about the governor's life insurance policy?"

The mobile telephone sung in a jazz notes. Mink read out loud the text on the mobile telephone. "The FBI just addressed that mystery question, too. Governor Ashmore had a life insurance policy on him person, his wife Amanda, and his single daughter Amy..."

Rob stared out the open archway with a puzzled brow. "Is Amber's name on that list?"

Mink scanned all the text messages for a second time with a puzzled brow. "I don't see her name listed here from the FBI information."

Hawk said. "I don't hear her name mentioned, either."

Rob exhaled. "Neither, did I?"

Hawk said. "Governor Ashmore cashed out all the monetary funds, all at the same time, including the stocks and the pension account. He must have been getting blackmailed by some he knew."

Rob nodded, "Agreed. I bet the FBI is thinking the very same thing, buddy. Let these boys and girls investigate that blackmail angle. Is there anything else to tell at our breakfast club, Mink?"

The mobile telephone sung in a jazz notes. Mink read out loud the newest text. "Yes. Amanda let the house insurance lapse on her home. Her homestead was not covered to replace one single brick with gooey white mortar."

Cody chewed and swallowed the food with a sour frown. "That's weird."

Hawk exhaled. "This entire conversation is weird."

Rob frowned. "What happens when you run out of money and abandoned your home and then there is a blazing fire? The fire happens to inflame and burn two of out of four private Ashmore homes."

"Bizarre." Cody nodded.

"What about their outstanding money debts on the monthly living invoices like water, sewer, electricity, Mink?" Hawk said.

The mobile telephone sung in a jazz song. Mink read out loud the new string of texts on her mobile telephone. "Amazing, you and the FBI are on the same brain frequency, Hawk. No mortgage notes. No car notes. No credit card invoices. Each family unit only received a monthly invoice for the electricity, the paid television, the internet connection services, the landline service, and the mobile telephone service, and some minor purchased services like numerous newspaper and magazine subscriptions. All the monthly bills were paid on time without money in an individual bank account. How in the hell do you perform that heavenly miracle? Because, I wanna use one or two of them too," She looked up with a smile to see each face. Hawk nodded with a grin at the same mental thought to Mink in silence.

Rob said. "What kind of car did Amy Ashmore drive?"

Mink looked down at the paper folder, reading out loud for all eardrums. "Her car is this year's model, a new sleek white utility sport vehicle."

Hawk frowned. "Who paid for it?"

"The FBI can work on that blackmail angle too. What type of car does Amber drive?" Rob nodded.

"I'll go and look." Hawk scooted back from the table and stood, spinning around and faced the single door, where the garage space stood which was a usual design inside an American home. He slammed and opened the door at the same time, rushing into the cool garage space, disappearing into the darkness.

"It sounds to me like the entire Ashmore family units have a nice secret benefactor," Mink turned and frowned to Rob.

"Maybe a rich uncle type," Cody stared at the open garage door, where Hawk investigated the car.

Rob nodded with a confused brow. "Could be? Have the other Ashmore extended family members been noticed by the police rather than by the television reporters?"

Hawk emerged back into the kitchen and dashed ahead, scooting around the table, sitting back down inside his warm chair with a smile and a nod. "Amber drives a nice damn foreign little two-seater sports car which is silver tinted with a hard top and a transmission stick. The car has 4,756 miles. It is last year's model."

Rob turned and stared at the paper folder. "What is the analysis of Amber's money financial statements?"

Mink looked down with a stern face at the mobile telephone. "There are no attached financial statements inside the paper folder. And I have posed that particular question to the US Marshal office for an answer as well. The FBI is investigating the same issue and told me to hold."

Hawk stared at the garage door with a smile. "I bet my entire paycheck that Amber doesn't owe a dime on that last year's model car."

"Well, I think we can presume the gunman had a valid M.O." Cody nodded with a smile.

Rob turned and frowned at Cody. "What's the M.O., Cody?"

Cody smiled with a nod. "The secret benefactor is paying for all the Ashmore's expensive toys and monthly bills. He must've gotten tired of the mind game. So, he eliminated the fluffy players in the poker game," chuckling.

"A new working-ass out theory," Hawk turned and smiled to Cody.

Rob nodded. "The working-ass theory is the only one making sense at the moment, too. Good job, Cody. So, mama, daddy, and the sisters and the two husbands are all dead. Who benefits in the poker game, now?"

Cody turned and stared at the open archway. "Amber."

Hawk shook a skull. "Don't jump to a wrong conclusion, Cody. She definitely saw something terrible with her eyeballs inside the church auditorium, this afternoon which makes her like a living vegetable that can talk."

"What about the empty bank accounts of her immediate blood relatives?" Mink said.

"She must be blackmailing her own family. So she is the benefactor that we're seeking." Cody nodded.

Mink turned and scanned the kitchen with a stern face. "Amber possesses a nice house, a newer car, a maid service, a lawn care, and she is very young. She is twenty-eight less than thirty years old. How many single girls own a house at twenty-eight years of age, without some type of financial assistance?"

Hawk nodded. "Amber was a member of the wedding party. Does that sound like she was blackmailing her family? They invited her to the wedding."

Cody chuckled. "Maybe, the other Ashmore family members paid to eliminate her as the blackmailer. But, the shooter got the wrong text pic inside his cell phone."

"Ugh, Cody! You get a spanking for that one, son." Mink frowned at him.

Hawk shook a skull with a chuckle. "So she got the upper hand. Cody, your imagination is beyond abnormal."

"Thanks." Cody smiled with a laugh.

Rob chuckled. "Whoa the galloping horses! We are definitely writing science fiction here."

"So, Amber saw what she had planned and executed and then went into total traumatic shock, buddy. Wake up, ya'll. She did it. She is the murderer of her own kin folks. All the physical hard criminal evidence links to the missing monies, the bank accounts, the insurance policies, the cars, the houses. Everything finger points to Amber." Cody nodded.

"I'll wait for judgment from the FBI, her defensive attorney, and the courtroom trial." Hawk smiled.

Mink smiled. "We can help the FBI by finding her bank accounts and records. There's a den across from the dining room. Maybe, she keeps her financial statements and invoices here inside her home as a good bookkeeper."

Rob nodded. "Good idea! Go and look, Mink. Bring back anything that might answer all those posed questions plus the ones we ain't thought of, yet." Mink stood upright from the chair and spun around, exiting the kitchen. Rob slapped the table with a nod. "Summarize, ya'll? What do we don't and do have?"

Hawk exhaled, "Nothing! A batch of empty bank accounts, two house fires, seven dead people and..."

Cody nodded. "No witness, no gunman, and no weapon."

Mink entered the room and rattled the pages of papers with a smile, stopping and stood beside her chair, looking at Rob, "This is unbelievable, Rob. I found all her bank statements and Amber is rich."

Hawk extended a hand with a stern face to Mink. "Let's see."

"Give the bank statements to the accountant, please, Mink," Rob nodded.

Mink turned and handed the stack of papers to Hawk. Hawk accepted and dropped the stack of papers in front his face, reviewing the number with a smile. "O boy! This is a private portfolio cash investment account. It shows that Amber is worth over seventy-four million dollars."

Rob dropped open and shut a mouth. "Are you certain, Hawk?"

Hawk flipped each page with a nod, "Absolutely certain! She is very, very rich. She could buy anything that she ever wants, desires, or dreams."

Cody exhaled with a nod. "She's a thief."

The mobile telephone sung in a jazz notes "Hush, Cody." Mink looked down with a sour frown at her mobile telephone, reading out loud the string of new texts. "The FBI has emailed. Hawk is correct. Amber indeed is a multi-millionaire with her own set of assets that are fully paid by her own monies. The FBI texts to me that she took charge of her own bank accounts at the legal age of eighteen while investing heavily in the stock market. Amber is a financial genius, raising her personal capital cash investments over two hundred percent, last year."

"Does Foster Gordon, the dead groom, fit into the Amber's financial money mix?" Rob nodded.

Mink read out lout the new text. "He was Amber's stock broker, but she steered her own stock funds. Amber has numerous personal bank accounts of money throughout the state of Alabama, in particular in the cities of both Montgomery and Mobile."

Hawk said. "The FDCI only covers one bank account at a time up towards two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. So, it makes sense that she has numerous bank accounts, used for numerous mysterious purposes. She might have a slush fund to pay for example for her electricity and telephone invoices in a simple checking account while the other seventy-four million dollars sits cozy inside a mixed investment portfolio, collecting more money interest."

"How much dollars and cents interest from her personal bank account on a total financial amount of seventy-four million dollars, Hawk?" Rob said.

Hawk swiftly calculated the math number in his mind in silence with a smile to Rob. "At the current rate of three point eight percent, it would be about two point eight million dollars and some change."

"I can live on that." Cody smiled with a nod.

"Amber most likely does live on that also. That is why her investment portfolio is massive." Hawk nodded.

Rob said. "The money is accounted for. What about Amber's professional work record or citizenship award?"

The mobile telephone sung in a jazz notes. Mink read out the new string of text messages. "The FBI just checked. She's a model citizen. She pays her state and federal income taxes, personal invoices, and donors her money to the local churches and some social charities. She doesn't work but volunteers at the church, where we just left. No parking tickets or speeding citations or disturbing of peace violations. This young adult is clean and a good role model for Cody," giggling.

Rob turned and nodded to Cody. "What do you think, now, Cody?"

Cody shook his curls with a puzzled brow. "Something's fishy here. I don't know what. But, something is stinking up the left side on the Tennessee River water bank."

Rob nodded with a stern face. "I agree with Cody. Something's rotten in Denmark. And I don't mean Denmark, the foreign country. What do you think, Mink?"

Mink exhaled. "She is faking it, isn't she?"

Cody nodded. "She's a fake and a felony."

"Hush, Cody." Hawk frowned. "Amber isn't faking it. I can feel it. I determine it to be some type of schizoid personality trait from a trauma. That girl is truly traumatized. She's in a deep trauma shock with symptoms of stunned, dazed, and numbed from a psychological association with al her dead family murders. It's a defense mechanism, protecting her psyche from the full impact of the trauma, until she can better prepare to assimilate the tragedy into her mental mind."

Rob said. "She repeats that statement."

"Amy is getting married, today," a set of faint words echoed into the kitchen air waves, where Amber sat on top of a sofa inside the living room.

Hawk said. "Her repetitive words suggest her inability to deal with the current situation and ultimately with a complete tragedy. She has lost her entire family in one afternoon."

Rob turned and nodded to Mink. "What do we do, Mink?"

Mink exhaled. "Amber has regressed to a passive state of mind, where help from any individual isn't welcomed. I believe that she should eye view the crime scene again. Maybe, she would pick up a hint. One, her family is really dead. And two, she might could manifest the face of the shooter for us."

"And if Amber continues to mumble only that one single repetitive sentence structure?" Cody frowned.

Hawk frowned with worry. "You can't send her to the state of Alabama mental ward. She's our prime witness, Rob."

Rob nodded. "I understand that, Hawk. She could be in danger for herself. I must think of her safety, as well as, we are her protectors. What if she turns on you, anyone of you?"

"We are watching her twenty four hours per day and seven days for any slow movements or quick changes?" Hawk nodded.

"I realized why you suggested turning the heat up, so she can sleep. But Amber is fully conscious enough to resist the temptation of rest." Rob said.

Hawk smiled. "That's a good sign. She thinks. She sees. She feels."

Cody shook his curls. "Wrong, Hawk! She is manipulating her own subconscious on a sub-conscious level. I am concerned that Amber can be dangerous to us all," nodding.

"Let the record state that I don't agree." Hawk frowned.

Rob exhaled. "I know that I'm making a rash decision now. I'll call the FBI to escort Amber back to the church. So, she can review the crime scene, again. In the meantime, Hawk can personally watch over her and wait for me and Mink to return."

"She is a witness to a horrendous crime." Hawk frowned with concern at Rob.

Rob nodded with a stern face to Hawk. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Rob, I'll get my gear and then drive my car over to church to wait for and escort the FBI here to Amber's residence." Mink stood upright from the chair and spun around to face the door, moving towards the archway.

"Very good, Mink," Rob and Hawk continued to perform a stare-down with each other. Rob stood upright from the chair and back stepped, spinning around to face the door, moving towards the archway with a stern face.

03:57 pm

Living room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Hawk stood upright and scooted the chair from an ass with a grunt, swinging around to face the door, dashing around Rob and entered the living room.

Amber blinked open and shut both eyelashes at the far wall of beige paint and held a bouquet of flowers between a pair of gloved hands, without moving. "Amy is getting married, today."

Amber was not dangerous, only scared. Hawk wanted to help her, approaching the sofa, sitting on the sofa with her. Maybe, if Amber recognized another warm body next to her, then she would react and woke up from a terrible daydream. Hawk desired to touch her hand or her soft pink colored cheekbone as he was taught from the numerous first aid medical lessons, not to scare the patient in this case, the witness. He turned and viewed his co-workers. They had stopped, kneeling down, gathering all the gear to leave Amber's house for the church.

Cody sat down at the beverage bar, waiting and watching him and her.

Hawk turned and exhaled to see the cheekbone of girl. "Amber."

Amber blinked open and shut both eyelashes at the far wall of beige paint and held a bouquet of flowers between a pair of gloved hands, without moving. "Amy is getting married, today."

Hawk leaned over and whispered with a smile into her cheekbone. "You are very pretty. I like your dress."

Amber blinked open and shut both eyelashes at the far wall of beige paint and held a bouquet of flowers between a pair of gloved hands, without moving. "My dress is sapphire blue." Hawk turned and gasped to see his co-workers. They stop working and stood upright, spinning around to see Hawk. Cody gave a thumbs-up signal with a nod. Mink gasped with a smile. Rob flung a hand for another quick face conference. Hawk slid off the sofa and stood upright, dashing to the huddle of deputies. Amber said. "My dress is sapphire blue."

Hawk stopped and stood inside a tight huddle with a smile in silence. Rob smiled with a nod to Hawk. "What did you do, Hawk?"

Hawk shrugged a shoulder with a grin. "I really don't know. I told her that she was pretty. I mentioned that I liked her dress. Then Amber changed the single repetitive sentence structure for some reason."

Cody smiled with a nod. "She is responding to your sexy husky voice, Hawk. Try something else different!"

Hawk looked back over a collar bone to see Amber as he was filled with excitement and nervousness. "What do I say next? Does anyone have another suggestion?"

Rob shoved Hawk back towards the girl with a smile and a nod. "You're doing a great job. Go back and perform another miracle, Hawk."

Hawk spun around with a smile and slowly strutted ahead, sitting down on the edge of the sofa with Amber. His new question had gotten a new reaction. So maybe, a new question might get another new reaction. "You are pretty Amber. Do you want a cold drink?"

"My dress is sapphire blue." Amber blinked open and shut both eyelashes at the far wall of beige paint and held a bouquet of flowers between a pair of gloved hands, without moving.

He frowned and then smiled. "Amber, I like your blue dress and your white gloves."

Amber blinked open and shut both eyelashes at the far wall of beige paint and held a bouquet of flowers between a pair of gloved hands, without moving. "My gloves are long and white." Hawk slid off the sofa and swirled around in a tight circle, stopping and smiling at his co-workers. They raised both arms with a nod and a smile in silence to Hawk. Amber was talking and telling more about her physical appearance, saying out loud on top of the sofa. "My gloves are long and white."

Hawk spun around and sat down beside her face without shaking the cushions on the sofa, leaning over into her cheekbone with a smile and a whisper. "Amber..."

Amber blinked open and shut both eyelashes at the far wall of beige paint and held a bouquet of flowers between a pair of gloved hands, without moving. "My gloves are long and white."

Hawk smiled at her nose profile. "Amber, your dress is pretty. I like your shoes."

Amber blinked open and shut both eyelashes at the far wall of beige paint and held a bouquet of flowers between a pair of gloved hands, without moving. "My shoes are blue with bows."

Hawk smiled with a whisper into her cheekbone, "Amber."

"My shoes are blue with bows."

04:16 pm

Foyer entrance setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

The door opened with bright sunshine.

"Sir?" US Deputy Marshal Tate entered the front door and spun around, feeling the shove a small person on his ass, holing upright both palms with a stern face. He blocked the archway of the front door and stopped the stranger, who was trying to advance inside the front door of Amber Ashmore's house, without permission.

"Out of my way, sir! Where's Amber? I demand to see Amber," an unknown short fat male yelled in a sissy timber and wiggled side to side inside the open archway.

Hawk stood upright and raced towards an invisible edge of the foyer space, standing in a row with Cody, Rob, and Mink, before the loud mouth and rude male appeared inside the living room while frightening the eye witness into silent submission.

A second male who was tall and younger dashed around the short male and Deputy Tate and encountered the muscle line of deputies first, whipping a large body to the right. Then the bodyguard launched and hit the side naked wall with a loud thump, without a piece of furniture, coming from a two-handed toss of Hawk with a growl. Then a second young tall male dashed around the short male and was grabbed, launching and hit the other naked wall with a loud thud. Rob, Mink, and Cody continued to hold and form a straight line to protect Amber while taking another hit.

Cody reached out and grabbed a third tall younger male with a head lock using his quick biceps, holding the man in place. The man coughed and gagged with sweat and fury, wiggling side to side, without breaking free from tall and meaner Cody.

Hawk raised both palms with a sneer and halted the short fat male in a dark gray suit and a yellow necktie from advancing towards Amber. Mink grabbed and held a hand gun at the short and fat male with a growl of protection over helpless Amber.

Rob sidestepped and looked down with a frown at the balding skull of elderly short male with a sneer, "Who are you, sir?"

The short fat male ignored Rob and the row of deputies, directly staring between the elbows with a stern face and a yell at Amber. "Amber, what's wrong with you, girl? Snap out of it, young lady. You're acting like a child. Get over here, now. We're leaving. Listen to me and get up from that sofa...."

Rob sneered down at the balding skull of the short male. "Sir, you are harassing a witness and..."

"Don't you know recognize my face, son?" The short fat male continued to stare at Amber.

Rob shook a skull with a stern face, "No sir. I do not."

The short fat male looked up with a smirk to see Rob. "I am Congressman Davidson Ashmore. I am her uncle. I demand to talk to my niece. I demand that you remove both your hands from me, before I sue you for the harassment of a popular and respected Alabama public civil servant."

Rob nodded with a stern face. "That's great, sir. But, at the moment, Miss Ashmore is a witness to the..."

Davidson looked down with a gasp and stared between the elbows of the deputies at Amber. "Are you telling me that Amber saw the killer of my brother Wharton?"

Rob nodded. "Miss Ashmore has witnessed something terrible, sir."

Davidson dropped open and shut a mouth. "What did she see? Why isn't Amber in the hospital or at the police station?"

Rob exhaled. "She is not in a very good talking mood at the moment, sir."

Davidson smiled at Amber. "I can make her talk. She's play acting to get attention. She did this actress-act all the time as a little girl. You must tell her what to do. Or she doesn't obey."

Rob frowned. "Sir, Miss Ashmore is not allowed to discuss any events."

Davidson looked up with a stunned back to see Rob. "You're joking. I'm her uncle. Enough of this silly nonsense! I demand to talk to Amber."

Rob shook a skull, "That is not possible, sir."

He sneered. "I'm Congressman Davidson Ashmore of the sixth district. I pay your salary that comes from my personal Federal US income taxes, US Marshal."

Rob smiled. "Only, if you actually write the check to the US Internal Revenue Service, sir."

Davidson snarled, "How dare you insult me, son? I'll have your badge for that impetus."

Rob grinned with a nod. "For the record Congressman Ashmore, you are not my congressman. I live in district seven, not six. So, I did not vote for your asset. Furthermore, I wrote a check to pay my own state of Alabama income taxes, which means I do pay for your useful state of Alabama public civil servant governmental duties. Therefore, your professional state of Alabama public civil servant duty is not required here at the moment with your niece. Since, you, Congressmen Ashmore are interfering with my public civil servant duty as a US Marshal from the Birmingham field office. You need to leave, sir."

Davidson lifted and jabbed a finger into the stern face of Rob with a sneer. "Leave! I have never been treated like such white trash before in my long tenured years as a devoted and dedicated public servant of the great state of Alabama. I'm reporting you to the FBI."

Rob smiled. "I report directly to the Executive Branch of the US Federal Government, Congressman Ashmore. That would be the President of the United States, sir. You are very welcome to file a complaint with my employer. That's your right as a US citizen."

Davidson exhaled. "I'm enacting those US citizen rights. Yes, sir. Let it be verbal stated, I have demanded to talk my niece named Amber Ashmore. And I have been inequitably denied."

Rob lifted and pointed at the mounted black box in the corner wall with a smile and a nod, "Yes sir. Your vocal statement has been inequitably recorded, too. See? There is an electronic devise in the sky, over the land, and on the table stand. We have state-of-the-art technology for helping us protect the only eye witnesses in this serious federal case of the US Judicial System, Congressman Davidson Ashmore, district sixth..."

Davidson dropped open and shut a mouth, spinning around with a puzzled brow to see the mounted black box with a set of flashing colored lights. "You...you are...you're recording me in here inside Amber's house. I mean this...this entire vocal discussion."

Rob nodded with a grin. "Sir, all audio and visual has been noted and has been recorded for everyone's welfare and safety of their persons here inside the living room of Amber's home."

Davidson spun around with a sour frown and a sneer to see Rob. "I'm leaving, but I'll return with my lawyer to see Amber for obstructing my right as her blood-uncle."

"That's your legal right, sir." Rob looked up with a nod to see Tate, who stood in front of the door with a stern face. "Please see to a respected personal service escort of Congressman Ashmore's welfare and his safety towards his public civil servant vehicle, Deputy Tate."

"Yes sir." Tate holstered the gun with a nod and a fake smile.

The set of personal body guards for Congressman Ashmore stood upright from the floor with a set of grunts and bruises, filing one-at-a-time out the open door in silence.

"O boy," Hawk felt Cody move ahead from the lineup of deputies towards Davidson.

Cody strutted ahead with a hand and a smile to Davidson like a good friend, "Hey sir! I'm Cody. I would like nothing better than to educate you on the US Marshal Service," he reached out and grabbed the arm, swinging Davidson towards the front door with a smile. "The US Marshal Service is the oldest law enforcement agency in the land. The land of the USA signed into action, the gun action that is, by the Judiciary Act in the year 1789. The USMS is the abbreviation. There are ninety-four US Marshals and over 4,000 deputy marshals. We assist with court security and prisoner transport..."

Hawk smiled with a nod at the back spine of Cody and Davidson. "Good job, Cody! Kill him with datum," he chuckled with Rob and Mink.

Cody swiftly shuffled the short man into the dark foyer and rambled down into the balding skull of Davidson. "Our duties encompass virtually everything from the few federal courts to the many federal laws to tons of federal fugitives. Do you know any federal fugitives, sir?"

"Absolutely not," Davidson frowned.

Cody smiled, "Too bad! Since, we are trained to track, hunt, and kill them on sight, sir."

Davidson turned and looked up with a confused brow to see Cody. "I certainly do not know any federal fugitives, young man...uh...young boy? How old are you, son?"

Cody chuckled. "It is one of the largest government agencies like the FBI and the ATF. A long time ago in the wild wilder western part of America, the US Marshal persons made their mark or their grave markers, if you will, in the lawless cowboy and cowgirl frontier towns in the great states of Texas and New Mexico and all the way to Califor...nee...a. They shot and killed all these bloody killing murderous outlaws that roamed the bread wheat plains, the yellow corn fields, and the massive crowded stinky ass buffalo pastures. They were welcomed in both safety and stability into the growing villages that comprised a group of true blooded Americans like me and you, Congressman."

Davidson frowned. "I have a college degree, young person."

Cody pulled Davidson towards the front door and away from Amber with a smile. "Each deputy receives a silver tinted star-shaped badge that symbolizes the white-hat goody good guys like you see on the Hollywood film movies. Do you want to see my badge, sir?" He reached over and pulled out his badge with a smile. "See? It's shiny silver. When a marshal like me needed some extra gun-power, not weapons, but men, he formed a posse and deputized all the local rednecks. Hey! We do that still today. We will form a posse and then deputized both male and female rednecks. Do you know any female rednecks, sir?"

Davidson shook a balding skull with a stern face. "I certainly do not, young man."

Cody smiled, "Too bad! They could join our posse while looking for the fellow that killed your brother."

Rob chuckled at the back spines of Cody and Davidson. "Go and get Cody, Mink."

Mink stared with a smile at the back spines of Cody and Davidson. They exited into the bright sunshine and left Amber's house. She grinned, "Naw. He's having some redneck fun entertaining and entertainingly funning Mr. Congressman at the moment."

04:44 pm

Living room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Hawk spun around with a worried brow to see Amber. She had not moved or spoken the new repeating single sentence structure during the vocal interruption. He dashed ahead and kneeled in front of her with a worried brow. "Miss Amber, do you want some water?"

"Tate, follow me!" Rob turned and moved ahead, stopping in front of the video camera, open the side panel. He pulled out the recording cartridge, since Rob didn't want the video evidence of both Cody and Hawk showed as his deputies hackled and laughed at the silly childish behavior of the congressman in front of a federal jury.

"Sir," Tate stood behind Rob with a stern face.

Rob spun around with a wink and held upright the tiny cylinder. "Store this tape for safe keeping."

Tate reached out and grabbed, hiding the tiny cylinder within the jacket.

Rob held upright an empty hand with a smile. "Gimme a new roll for the next talking session with Amber."

"Yes sir." Tate squatted down and fetched, handing a new cylinder to Rob, standing upright and spun around to face the open door. He heard the impromptu speech of Davidson for the numerous television cameras and reporters. He patted a pocket with secret film and exited the house, trotting towards his pickup truck for storage the cylinder for safekeeping.

In front of the manicured lawn, Davidson stood in the grass with raised arms and a frown. "Those are the worst of the worse. This level of violence is intolerable inside the small town of Ironside but have no fear, citizens. I am working with the national law enforcement officers to do anything and everything we can to provide all type of manpower in assisting with the local, state, and federal authorities, finding the murderer of my brother and his family." The neighbors and busybodies clapped and cheered for Congressman Davidson. He smiled with a nod. "The united front of law men and women will work together to locate and prosecute this heartless cold-blooded murderer of my entire family. And I want to thank each and every one of you for your help and effect making Ironside the safest place on planet Earth, which is my home town and voting district six..."

Rob gently closed the front door with a sour frown, hoping for some good luck and lots of assurance that Congressman Ashmore would not interfere with the murder investigation and the murder witness, again. He will present that video tape to the local federal judge and get a restraining order against Amber's uncle. He spun around and stared at Amber on the sofa, wondering if she heard the threatening conversation by her uncle. He pondered what Davidson wanted with Amber and how he would make her talk about the bloody murders.

This murder investigation was complicated, complex, and confusing with a successful assassin of an entire biological family unit.

The door opened. Cody entered the foyer and slammed the door with a set of bad manners of a southern redneck, instead of a southern gentleman with a boot heel, wearing a goofy grin, bouncing back to his happy duty for the day.

He turned and sat back down at the bar stool, staring at the Amber. "Back to work, Hawk."

"Yes sir." Hawk smiled at her. "Amber, I like your hair." Amber did not speak or move. Hawk looked back over a collar bone to see Cody and Rob without a hand signal or a word of advice.

Mink sat on top of the bar stool and turned with a smile to see the nose profile of Cody. "Was Congressman Ashmore going home?"

Cody shrugged a shoulder and stared at Amber. "The man was in a hurry to go somewhere."

Rob frowned. "He needs to hurry and arrange all the funerals of his dead relatives. Amber isn't in any state of mind to perform that function." He decided that Davidson was not going to intimidate Amber in her own home residence and wondered if Davidson knew that she was a multi-millionaire too which brought about a new twist and a new angle into this multiple mystery murder case.

Hawk turned around with a smile to see her. "Amber, I like your dress." Amber did not speak or move, staring at the far wall, holding the nosegay in a lap between a pair of white elbow length gloves. Hawk exhaled with a worried brow. "She's upset." He stood upright and slowly spun around, moving back towards the beverage bar with a heavy heart.

"Time to call the medical professionals, I'm afraid. Her mental capacity is beyond our deputy capacity, Rob." Mink stared with a worried brow at Amber.

Rob nodded with a stern face at Amber. "This is actually good news. She does comprehend her current environment. Therefore, she does have the ability to react to a new environment."

Hawk frowned. "What are you saying, Rob? I completely disagree with you, Mink. The koo-koo physician can't have her for any wild weird-ass experiments inside his medical lab." He turned with a worried brow to see Amber. "She is sensitive and upset. She needs to stay in her own home. She's going to recover from this mess."

"Agree, here." Cody stared with a smile and a nod at Amber.

"You thought that she was the killer last hour ago." Rob frowned at Amber.

Cody nodded at Amber. "I place my bet on her blood-uncle."

"I do, too." Hawk stared with a worried brow at her.

Rob exhaled. "I don't like the male, either. But, he is her relative and apparently the only living one for the time being. Go back and try to get her to talk, once again, about her dress or Amy's wedding, Hawk!"

Hawk spun around with a worried brow and a sigh. "Yeah, I'll try really hard." Her uncle was troubling for both Hawk and Amber as he pondered what question to ask while getting her to open back up without saying the repetitive statement. Hawk stopped and spun around, sitting down on top of the sofa with a gentle motion. He had made a lot of progress, since early afternoon, until her bozo uncle had ruined the momentum. He exhaled and started the momentum over, turning to see the electronic recording equipment on top of the mounted free stand. He heard the whining and humming of gears inside the audio and video cassette that recorded his movements and his words, since the room was totally a peace in the universe. Hawk turned and leaned over with a smile into her nose profile, smelling her perfume of roses and vanilla spice. "Amy is getting married, today."

Hawk smiled. "Your dress is sapphire blue."

Amber stared without a smile at him. "Yes. My dress is sapphire blue."

Rob, Mink, and Cody stood upright from the chairs as some of the stools hit the beverage counter. They stopped and stood upright in front of Hawk and Amber.

"Your gloves are long and white." Hawk smiled.

Amber smiled at Hawk. "Yes. My gloves are long and white."

"Your shoes are blue with bows." Hawk smiled with a nod.

"Yes. My shoes are blue with bows." Amber smiled at Hawk.

Rob leaned down and whispered into the eardrum of Hawk. Hawk smiled. "Tell me about the gunman?"

Amber blinked open and shut both eyelashes, removing the smile to Hawk "Yes. He was average height about five feet..."

Cody and Mink pulled out an ink pen and paper from a vest, slamming down an ass onto the hard floor, taking down hand written notes like a secretary. They wrote down each detailed data from her eyewitness account while her every word and hand movement was video recorded. But, the first eyeball impression always helped with the initial murder investigation.

Hawk was not writing but observing with his eyeballs and her neurons her slow and fast motions. Amber was calm. Her voice was steady, narrating a story. Hawk reached over and touched her right gloved hand which was wet from the humidity in the air, after ordering off the air conditioning cool waves.

Her face was peppered with a set of tiny water droplets of sweat. Her eyes blinked alert and as her mental mind clicked with mental activity. She said, "...eight inches tall, wearing the color of black from head to toe. He was slender from the look of his outer attire. His clothes were designed in the style of a motorcycle thick leather jacket, a pair of matching black leather pants, and a set of black heavy boots. He wore a black helmet, removing for it a short moment, before placing it back over his head. He held a bald head with a wide forehead, a pale complexion, clean shaven with a heart-shaped face, hook nose, small cheekbones, and small little eyes and big ears. He entered from the front door, holding two guns in each hand. He fired at Mrs. Langford, sitting at the organ's bench seat first and then the photographer and then Daddy and then Amanda and then Mama and then Amy and then Oscar and then finally at Foster. They all fell onto the floor like a set of dominos. I could not see them moving behind the flowers," she sobbed without tears.

Hawk whispered. "You were not with the wedding party. Where did you hide, Amber?"

Amber stared at Hawk. "Mama told me to fetch Amy's banquet from the kitchen for the wedding pictures. I held the bridal bouquet, standing in the dark hallway as he moved in front of my eyesight. The noise sounded like a set of little firecrackers. I was confused. Then, I get scared. I thought he was part of the wedding party. Then I didn't recognize him from the rehearsal dinner, last night. I did not..." she stopped speaking and looked down with a blank face to stare at the nosegay between the white colored gloves, swiftly releasing the bouquet. The flower bouquet tumbled down and fell onto her dress and then the floor. She batted both eyelashes and leaned over, fainting into Hawk. Hawk caught her with both arms.

"You did good job, Hawk." Rob smiled with a nod.

Hawk cuddled Amber with a smile. "She did a better job, Rob."

Rob turned and smiled to Mink. "Amber did a great job. Get that detail to a sketcher for a black and white drawing and then to the FBI wire! Let's see if they can ID this guy, Mink. Go and tell the media folks that the US Marshal Office announces a new member to the list of wanted fugitives. He is described as five feet and eight inches, bald, and pale skin. If you have any information about this fugitive, call us. All tips are anonymous and there are rewards available," nodding. Mink stood upright from the floor and spun around, dashing towards the front door and exited Amber's home for the office. Rob turned and smiled to hawk. "Take her upstairs for rest. She deserves that cat nap, now."

"Yes sir." Hawk stood upright and cuddled Amber into his chest, slowly strolling across the room, climbing up the staircase for her afternoon rest.

Rob turned and smiled to Cody. "Cody, please find and lower the air conditioning needle down to fifty dang degrees."

"No prob!" Cody wiped the sweat from a face and spun around with a chuckle to see the air conditioning thermostat.
Sunday May 2nd

12:03 am

Home location Amber Ashmore

Staircase and living room setting

Cool temperatures with bright stars of nighttime

She moved down the staircase on a pair of bare feet and dressed in a yellow sundress, wearing a ponytail with a puffy red colored face, carefully surveying the darkened living room and scouted for the new visitors. She possessed perfect night vision inside her house while knowing every square inch of the palace.

She heard an assortment of loud snoring, coming from one of the two law enforcement officers that suggested a male as she moved beside the occupied guest bedroom. The door was partly opened for an emergency or an attack on the sleeping men. However, her new roomies were sound asleep in comfort on top of the thick cozy mattresses.

She stood upright on top of the tile and hugged the bar counter with a hand. Amber didn't want to wake her new company to alertness, since she really didn't feel like chit-chatting or busy bee socializing at the moment, either.

She was a little hungry and a lot of sad, bumping into the ceramic planter that contained the bundles of white gladiolus for Amy's wedding. Her eyeballs re-focused on the bright white flowers and as she sobbed with a tight throat.

This was the new day of no hope for her.

Every bump, lump, and rump was going to remind her of that awful event yesterday at the church.

She stood upright and bowed a chin, sobbing with tears, wiping the mucus from a runny nose. She hoped that the maid service had purchased plenty of tissue boxes for the day and night tears.

Hawk possessed acute eye vision, not necessary from his nickname just a set of good old fashioned family DNA genes. His dad had never worn a pair of eyeglasses while reading the Sunday newspaper, until the cancer cell started eating away the biological body and turned his father into a bag of skinny bones.

Hawk rested across the long sofa and pretended sleep, seeing a tiny figure with tiny movement on top of the second level staircase as the bright moonlight hit the wooden banister. He flinched with tense and then relaxed, seeing a dark shadow cross into a shining light, presenting amber golden hair strand inside a ponytail.

Amber had awakened from her cat nap which lasted for ten hours.

The house was quiet.

Rob and Cody slept. Cody could slumber peacefully through a tornado or a hurricane or an earthquake or a combination of the three Mother Nature events.

Hawk had hit the sack on top of the long sofa as the watch dog, after he had placed Amber on top of her mattress for the early morning watch, easily falling asleep from a rush, a ruse, and a ran while analyzing the cold-blooded murder assassination crime scene. He rested soundly on top of the sofa, until Cody had pitched a glass of ice cold water into the face of Hawk for an immediately wake-up call to duty. Just wait! Hawk will get Cody back at the most inconvenience time for that vicious harassment.

Inside the living room, Hawk watched Amber pause at the end of the beverage bar, looking down at something on the floor. He did not move or breathe, not desiring to give the girl another heart attack on top of her old heart being broken, when she learned of the bad news.

The entire Ashmore family was playing inside heaven, instead of on planet Earth.

He noticed the movement.

Her shoulder drooped. Her hands shook in the air. Her head dropped down into a chest with tears of sadness.

This was a good start for the healing process. The act of death was hard for all living creatures, underneath God's protection. Death was a part of life. Life was a part of death. You could not stop life or death but only endure it to the best of your spiritual abilities.

She scooted around the flower planter and moved ahead into the kitchen for a meal from both hunger and thirst.

He slowly slid of the sofa and knelt down on the floor, slowly standing upright. She probably could use some friendliness support, not a lecture of life and death.

12:11 am

Kitchen interior setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Amber slid through the door and stopped, reaching out, flipping o the lights while not wanting to eat in the dark. She moved ahead and stopped, staring at the breakfast table, pondering her life, without her family. She turned and surveyed the spotless kitchen counters with a smile. Her uninvited guests were neat and polite with a set of good southern manners as they were taught by a mama. That was a nice gesture.

She always heard stories about law enforcement personnel visiting other people's homes during times of crisis and chaos. She must've have gotten lucky with this group of males. Thinking about the un-invited guests seemed to take her fragile mind for a millisecond off the old blood-stained torn memories of dead family members.

Amber turned and shuffled towards the refrigerator, not craving a particular food or beverage item. She stopped and opened the door, allowing a cool breeze to hit her swollen face.

She had awoken about twenty minutes on top of the bedcover of her mattress, wearing the bridesmaid gown with pair of long gloves. The gem necklace was cutting off the air to her esophagus. She bolted upright in the bed, feeling disoriented, dazed, and dizzy. She blinked open and shut the eyelashes a few times and as her eyes adjusted to the nighttime view.

She surveyed a dark room and white light from a bright moon that flowed gently down into the air waves over the wooden floor. Her brain cells kicked into motion. She was at home. It was nighttime, the opposite part of the afternoon day of the wedding picture taking event. She cried and allowed the tears to flow down in the still cold air and ruin the bridesmaid's dress.

An expensive satin strapless plantation ball gown with a set of three layers of white crinoline that scratched her naked legs which was to be worn for Amy's wedding.

Someone had placed Amber on top of the bedcovers with a blanket over her gown and her body. Her sandals were sitting side by side on the floor beside the bedpost. Someone had taken great care in making sure she was warm and secure and protected.

After the tears stopped and started to dry, she felt hungry and extremely thirsty. She changed out of the tight gown into a summer dress, hoping she could secretly enter the kitchen for a midnight snack.

Amber realized the new day was going to be busy and filled with nosy questions, probably with no answers. She did not even know why, who, what, where, or how things had transpired yesterday at the church altar.

Inside the kitchen, she reached out and selected the carton of sweet milk. The cold milk would settle her roaring stomach from hungry and haunting pains, bombarding her body and her mind with more sleep also. She back stepped and spun around to face the wooden cabinet, reaching out and opened the cabinet door, selecting a water goblet for drink and a ceramic bowl for food which would satisfy her growling belly.

Amber was not required to turn on an appliance like the oven for cooking or a microwave for fixing a meal, since she did not need to cook her meals. The paid maid service performed these required domestic services at her house each week. They had cleaned, polished, and worked at her dad's house too.

Amber stared down into the empty bowl with sobs and tears. Her dad, her mom, her sister Amanda, her brother-in-law Oscar, her baby sitter Amy, and her other brother-in-law Foster did not exist anymore. They were gone. Poof! Here one minute and then gone the next. Just like a nasty annoying tiny black housefly that fluttered around the room, then pop, it was gone from its life in a splatter of tiny blood on the wall, where it sadly left evidence of its only total existence.

Each one of her family member now was a set of spatters of dried blood proteins on top of the white carpet and the polished wooden planks on the church altar of St James Baptist Church in Ironside.

She reached out and held the goblet and the bowl with sobs and tears of sadness.

Hawk slowly moved away from the sofa and followed the light beams of the moon, not wanting to trip or fall carelessly over something which might startle Amber into screaming.

First, Rob will awaken and get mad at Amber for interrupting his beauty sleep. Second, the snoring young deputy-in-training will advance down the staircase with a hand gun drawn and ready for a shoot-out, standing out in a set of his colorful underwear.

Hawk remembered Cody liked wearing the set of pretty yellow and green cartoon character boxers.

Amber will probably faint into his arms, making that mental thought very pleasant.

Inside the living room, Hawk slowly moved towards the kitchen lights.

Inside the kitchen, Amber exhaled to remove all the numerous bad memories that she could and side stepped towards the food pantry, opening the door of the pantry. She reached in and retrieved the cereal box and continued toss out these terrible bloody visions that were floating inside her head. She side stepped back in front of the bowl and poured out the cereal, filling it up and over the rim of the ceramic edge, carelessly sloshing the cold milk over the rice dots like a mindless zombie.

Physics ensured each rice filled tiny dot musically snapped, crackled, and popped from the heavy flow of milk, drowning out the hollow geometric shapes. The cereal symphony immediately reminded her of a familiar odd sound heard within both eardrums, yesterday.

Hawk heard the light tinkling of glass and china since she was eating. He felt a little hungry also making up the lame excuse for being inside the kitchen at the same time with Amber.

She didn't see his dark silhouette over the long sofa as she traveled quietly through the room for food.

He walks into a bright room and squint both eyelids, adjusting to the overhead lights. Amber stood in front of the kitchen counter, staring down at the overflowing bowl of cereal and milk.

Yesterday, Amber heard the sound of a sweet musical tenor telling her to tattle about the gunman with a pair of tender expressive hazel eyes that were hidden underneath his curly red locks. His red hair framed a square strong jaw line with a set of soft pink lips on a pale face, smiling at her imagination.

"Amber," the same tenor sounded throughout the quiet room of the kitchen.

Amber turned with a stern face to see her imagination alive in the male. "Yes."

Hawk shuffled on a pair of socks towards the kitchen counter and stopped. Her eye sockets were swollen. Her lips chapped raw from crying. He smiled. "I was hungry, thirsty."

"You? I...you...I remember you." Amber blinked open and shut the eyelashes, shifting her mental thoughts. She recalled him. He sat beside her on the sofa as she was living outside her body like she wasn't there inside the living room of her house. The sensations were hard to describe to her common senses, not her heart. His hand reached over and touched her glove, making her feel welcomed and secured. That was the emotion.

He nodded with a smile. "That's a good sign. You're probably remembering a lot of images." Hawk moved ahead and stopped, reaching above her and fetched a bowl and a tumbler glass for a quick bit of cereal and company with Amber for a few moments. He rested the bowl and the glass over the counter, reaching over and retrieved the towels, mopping up her overflowing cereal.

She grabbed the bowl and the tumble and slowly spun around, moving ahead towards the breakfast table. "I guess, so," she pulled out the chair and sat down, spooning the cereal.

"The name's Hawk." He quickly poured out the milk into the glass tumbler and the same cereal food into an empty bowl, grabbing the dishes and spun around with a smile, grabbing the opposite chair at the breakfast table with her.

Amber giggled with a smile and held the spoon of cereal. "Is your named like the bird hawk?"

"Hawkins is my last name. Everyone shortened it as I grew up in the family and at school. The nickname kinda stuck."

"Very nice to meet you, Hawk. I just wish under more amiable circumstances," she ate and chewed with a stern face. He scooped up the food and ate, staring at her face. She was eating which was another good sign of a healthy sub-conscious and on-going mental thought process.

He chewed and swallowed with a stern face. "You didn't have to talk to me about your experience. I noted that you were up and walking around. I didn't want to scare you."

Amber chewed and swallowed the food with a stern face. "Thanks," she spooned more food and ate, chewing.

"I must tell you that later today at around eight o'clock or so this morning. There will be lots of law people who are coming over to your house. They will have a table of catered breakfast with trays of scrambled eggs, bacons stripes, and hot buttered biscuits, all southern style," smiled Hawk. Amber chewed and swallowed with a smile, scooping up more food and ate. He smiled. "Then starting around nine o'clock, we are having a big pow-wow. You guessed it and you will be the guest of honor."

Amber chewed and swallowed the food with a sigh. "Yes. I expected that much," she spooned more food and ate, chewing.

"Let's see. The pow-wow will consist of my boss Rob, my buddies Cody and Shirley, the local representatives from the FBI office, the Homeland Security office, and your dad's bodyguard service. Your dad was governor." She chewed with a nod. He exhaled. "And there's your uncle Congressman..." She rolled her eyeballs and stared back at Hawk. He chuckled. "The politician status of your father explains the Secret Service presence inside the pow-wow meeting. Then there will be the local police, who will need some more information in tracking and locating the shooter," he spooned another bite of the cereal and chewed.

"Do I need a lawyer?"

He chewed and swallowed the food with a smile. "I wouldn't think so."

"Is Davidson going to be here in the pow-wow also?"

"No. He made a terrible scene, yesterday. Did you happen to see it?" She shook a ponytail. He smiled at her cute gesture. "That's okay. He and it were really ugly. But we caught it on live video tape for prosperity and reviewing over and over, again," he laughed as she giggled. He exhaled. "Alas! He called my boss man Rob something unmentionable and then mentioned something about the funeral arrangements."

She chewed and swallowed with a sigh. "Is that task falling to me?"

"Actually, Davidson is taking care of your...family. But he does need to speak with you for ten minutes today, if you're feeling up to seeing him."

"No problem. Davidson only speaks to me usually for five minutes. So, this should be interesting from my point of view today." She finished the food and the beverage, standing upright from the chair, holding the dirty dishes with a slight smile. "I feel much better."

"You're looking much better too. You got some more pretty color in your rosy cheeks," he winked with a smile.

She smiled at him. "Thank you, Hawk. Your words really are helping me adjust to this... situation. I'll return for some more beauty sleep, since I'm the guest of honor later today. I want to look my best or at least close to it for the honored committee members in less than eight hours," she slowly swung around to face the kitchen sink and moved ahead, stopping and placed the dirty dishes into the sink. She slowly spun around to face the door, waving a hand and a smile to Hawk at the breakfast table.

He waved and watched her disappear into the darkness with a smile, looking down to finish the bowl of food. He stood upright from the chair and back stepped, scooting around the table, standing in front of the kitchen sink, working to rinse off the dirty dishes. He loaded the used food dishes down into the dishwasher. Amber had a paid maid service to care for her domestic needs, where she probably never dirtied her manicured hands by loading a dishwasher with smelly food covered dishes. Hawk closed the dishwasher door and spun around with a soft hum and a smile, moving towards the archway and stopped, reaching out and flipped off the kitchen lights. He slowly spun around and carefully moved around each kitchen windows, observing the dark outer grounds.

The city of Ironside was quiet and dark along an empty city street. Cody and Rob slept upstairs inside each guest bedroom, working around the clock as a pair of body guard protection for Amber.

He slid the tiny flashlight out from the vest and slowly spun around, moving out the kitchen space and scouted each dark room on the ground floor for any slight movement or bright distractions.

Clear!

Hawk returned back into the living room and sat down on top of the long sofa, gently reaching out and placed the flashlight down on top of the tile for an easy reach with a left hand, double-checking the hostler on the side table, removing the gun and rested it on the top of the side table for an easy hand reach with a right shooting hand. He gently sprawled out his average-ness onto the pink and red rose fabric white sofa, spreading a heavy white cotton blanket over a body, snoozing on the long furniture, the remaining early morning hours.

Hawk needed his beauty sleep too, preparing for the big committee meeting that was planned at nine o'clock this morning, closing both eyelids with a deep sigh of exhaustion.

09:13 am

Dining room location

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Amber was taking her sweet tea time getting prepared mentally, spiritually, or physically for the official murder conference with the law enforcement officers inside the spacious dining room.

A long rectangular room was located on the northern side of her house which was parallel to the swimming pool and the manicured lawn of green carpet. The dark wooden dining room table contrasted greatly with the bright white walls and the matching thick carpet, creating an ancient world history medieval-feeling environment inside the medium sized room.

Inside the dining room, Rob looked over a back spine to see the pretty white carpet. The carpet held an array of colorfully splattered ugly red clay boot prints, coming from all the law enforcement team. He had ordered a set of white runners to cover the dirty red stained carpet and promised to get Amber's maid service to clean the area, after the police interview. Obviously, the dining room was not used for any purpose, but pretty decoration.

The parameter of the dining room stretched up into a twelve-foot ceiling and then spread lengthwise towards thirty feet, measuring from the white wooden door frame towards the side parallel walls. The north wall contained a set of low glass windows which oddly overlooked the swimming hole.

Yesterday, the male deputies had dubbed the built-in pool a swimming hole, after Amber had crashed a body into Hawk. He had carried Amber up into the bedroom for rest when Cody and Tate had stripped down to the underwear and dangled a set of swollen and tired footies down into the pool underneath a hot melting sun. The water rose to the height of four feet and three inches at the deepest depth. The deputies had fun splashing around the patio, tossing water balls at each other, until Rob called for suppertime.

The dining room was thirty feet in depth, holding a thirty-foot dining table which was made of a rough hand-sanded black bamboo wood. The dining room table consisted of four individual planks that had been smashed together by mouth spit and rusty nails. There was an extra five feet moving body space without bumping a hip bone into a sharp corner of the dining room table while stomping a pair of boots onto the white runner.

Rob sat on one of the side of the dining room table which was devoid of built-in wooden cabinets and art paintings. The end wall contained a built-in wooden shelf, going from end to end which was covered in smooth glass, displaying a set of twenty-four pieces of pretty dull yellow and bright red flowered-pattern bone china that was edged in a circle of silver. There were numerous beverage and refreshment items which were composed of silver, ceramics or glass materials.

Rob had positioned the team of audio and video (AV) personnel and all the recording equipment inside the wall corner which was far away from the delicate glass as the camera lens pointed towards the middle dining room chair for the guest of honor Amber.

The other end of the dining room table held numerous persons which included FBI Special Agent Belfort in a center chair. On the right side of Belfort, there was the Homeland security person, a state of Alabama Secret Service person, a state of Alabama Public Health psychologist, and the police captain of Ironside. On the opposite side of Belfort, there was an empty chair for Amber. On the right side of the empty chair, there sat Rob, Cody, and the mayor of Irondale. Filling out the left side of Belfort, Mink and her laptop computer sat down while taking notes, an Alabama Senator of Montgomery, a US IRS agent, a CIA agent, and an Alabama Congressman of Montgomery, who was not her uncle Davidson Ashmore.

The AV crew finished the introductions and the strawberry pasties during breakfast, strolling back into the interrogation/dining room for the guest of honor questioning. However, Amber was still missing after five and then ten and finally fifteen minutes of nine o'clock.

Rob leaned over the empty chair with a stern face and a whisper into the nose profile of Hawk. "Are you certain that she heard you this morning about the pow-wow invitation, Hawk?"

He leaned over the empty chair with a fake smile and a whisper into the face of Rob, staring at the opposite side of the dining room table. "Yeah, I told you before. I informed her this morning when we chatted, after midnight. I knocked on her door at eight forty-five am per your instructions. She didn't answer the knock by opening the bedroom door, but she called out between the wood that she was coming right down. Do you want me to run up the stairs again?"

Rob clenched the teeth, dealing with the impossible law enforcement officers, the rude politicians, and the crabby sheriff deputies within his line of work sometimes on an hourly basis was bad, but the worst aggravation was any disquiet and displaced key eye witness. He could not order or boss Amber around for her silly girl misbehaving. She had witnessed a terrible horrendous event, watching all her family parish, before her eyes. She didn't need any more harassment or lecturing from Rob. At the same time, Rob needed her presence to continue the murder investigation, so he could get these bozos out of her house and then the killer captured, ensuring her safety and protection. He will send Hawk upstairs again to find the fairy princess with a fake smile and a whisper, "Go!"

Hawk scooted back the chair while shifting the noisy paper runner, trying to be discreet as all eyeballs turned and fell onto his distorted face. He stood upright from the chair and spun around to face the open archway, moving ahead.

Amber appeared and blocked the open archway with a smile at Hawk. She was dressed in a pretty candy pink sundress that was accented with a big tie bow across her breasts with a set of two thick straps of pink satin ribbon that was attached to the dress around her naked collar bone. The sundress ended above her knees and a pair of suntanned legs. She wore a pair of pink heeled sandals, showing off her yellow tinted painted toenails underneath a set of little tiny pink bows. Hawk smiled at her adorable-ness. She didn't wear any cosmetic makeup, only a smug of pink lip stick across her smile. He smelled her perfume of soft carnation corsages and extended a forearm as her escort and personal protection. She accepted the forearm with a sweet whisper, "Thank you."

Hawk back stepped from the archway and swung around, leading her towards the assigned chair, pulling it out like a true southern gentleman. She sat down with a stern face and scanned each face of the interrogation committee inside her dining room table.

Belfort cleared a throat as the monitor of the murder interrogation. "Good morning, Miss Ashmore. I am Belfort. I and my company here want to express our sincere sympathies to you regarding your father and immediate family members."

Amber bowed a chin with a stern face, "Thank you, very much."

Belfort said with a stern face to Amber. "I am from the FBI field office which is located in downtown Birmingham. To save time, I will not introduce everyone presence, but I will tell you that this group is represented by the FBI, Homeland security, the Irondale police department, both Alabama legislatures, and the IRS," he thumbed back over a collar bone to the AV crew inside the wall corner. "This formal interview is being both recorded and taped mainly for investigational purposes for apprehending the person, who committed this awful crime. Why don't you begin with the wedding rehearsal dinner, Miss Ashmore?"

Amber looked down at the sweating pitcher of water with ice cubes that was covered in an array of sweaty droplets as each sweaty droplet bombarded the wood table surface. She didn't want any food to eat this morning at eight o'clock as she was too nervous about the numerous questions from the law enforcement officers, since her dad was the governor of Alabama. She felt sad and mad without knowing what she could do to find her family's murderer. Amber will try to address all the questions to the best of her knowledge. She blinked open and shut both eyelashes and tried to recall the specific event from three days ago. She sat upright straight and tall like her mom had taught inside the dining room chair and placed a set of manicured finger nails down inside a lap like her mom had taught too, exhibiting her good well-mannered southern belle behavior. Hawk reached over and gently touched, squeezing her hand underneath the table without a smile and in silence.

Amber said with a stern face. "Amy, she is the middle child of my family. I am the baby. Amanda and Amy are the older children. The wedding party consisted of Amy, Foster, Amanda, Oscar, my dad, my mom, and me. We met at the church at four o'clock before the dinner, avoiding the traffic flow out of downtown Birmingham. My dad's bodyguards were with him." She turned and smiled at Gerando, her dad's secret service man, "Hi, Gerando." Gerando sat at the end of the dining room table with a nod to Amber. She turned and stared at Belfort. "We quickly walked down a pretend aisle, where Amy wanted us to stand in the wedding ceremony."

A middle-aged female next to Belfort with a head of grayish-black colored hair stared with a stern face and a nod to Amber. "Jean Appleton, I am from the NSA. May I interrupt you, Miss Ashmore?"

"Of course, Miss Appleton," Amber turned and smiled at her.

Appleton said. "Did the organist or her husband, the preacher meet you at the church?"

"No. Brother and Mrs. Langford were not part of the wedding rehearsal or the dinner. Brother Langford does not approve of alcohol. So, he did not plan to attend the dinner at Michael's..."

"Which Michael's, was it the location at the River Shopping Galleria or the city of Hometown?" Appleton looked down with a stern face and wrote her noted down on the paper notebook.

Amber said. "The rehearsal dinner was located at a restaurant inside the River Shopping Galleria."

The police captain of Ironside smiled. "The restaurant is known for its original steer butt steak."

"What does a butt steak taste like?" Appleton turned and frowned at the police captain.

The police captain chuckled with a nod. "Delicious. Butt steak is the hand cut steak from the beef tenderloin, a very tender steak with a bold taste. I believe the best flavor of all the beef steaks."

The mayor of Ironside smiled with a nod. "It runs from the neck of the steer down to its rump. The sirloin section is called the butt steak or tenderloin."

Hawk nodded with a smile to the police captain. "After the steer is slaughtered, the carcass is split lengthwise down the backbone. The boneless top sirloin is known as butt steak. Sirloin steak is a multi-muscled cut of beef that is naturally lean meat which has a full bold, beefy flavor. The cuts tend to be chewier and tastes better marinated and grilled."

"Beef people over there," the Alabama Senator pointed with a smile at Hawk.

The mayor Ironside smiled at Hawk. "It comes from the Hereford beef."

The local farm boy of Blountsville, Hawk smiled with a nod. "The Hereford steers are the icon of the beef cattle industry which was founded some two and one-half centuries ago as a product of necessity. The success of Hereford cattle in the US State of Texas saw the entire disappearance of the longhorn cattle as a major range breed for meat production. The Hereford cows are seen everywhere inside any wooden railing or behind a bob-wired fence. You can recognize them by the dark brown coat and white face characteristic."

"Thank you!" Belfort frowned at Hawk and then Amber. "Please continue, Miss Ashmore."

Amber said. "We wrapped up the wedding rehearsal at approximately four fifteen or twenty..."

"Are you always so precise with the time elements, Miss Ashmore?" Belfort smiled.

Amber nodded. "Yes. It is a vicious habit of time consciousness when I'm really bored. The limousines carted us to Michael's for dinner."

"You must have been fashionable late traveling from Ironside south to Hoovertown." Appleton looked up with a stern face to see Amber.

Amber said. "You're precise yourself, Miss Appleton. My dad enjoyed being late for every event that he attended within his life, probably his own birth. I would have to look that one up. So, he could become the center of the attention from the moment when he walked into a room. We arrived at five thirty or abouts. Actually, we made good time in the limos with traffic flowing in the opposite direction of the work day," she exhaled and reached out, touching the wet glass tumbler of cold ice water, lifting and sipped the cool water. She placed the tumbler back down onto the table surface with a stern face to Belfort. "There were forty-two people present and accounted for at the dinner, including close friends, stray relatives, political opponents, and other players along with some local city folks. I stayed until ten thirty pm. I believe Gerando can vouch for me when I left. I realize that the body guards are notorious for dealing details of people's lives around a governor."

Appleton said. "May I interrupt again, Miss Ashmore? Your family members were present. What about your uncle Congressman Davidson Ashmore?"

Amber said. "Yes. Davidson and his wife Judy and the three annoying brats were there too. Dave, David, and Dale are quite the cartoon characters. Davidson and Judy spoil them rotten with numerous toys while disregarding firm discipline and proper duty of five-year-old aged young boys. They were running around the table, tripping over their growing feet and annoying me more than any other family members. Since, I was ordered to handle the children, not a pleasant experience."

Belfort said. "Miss Ashmore, were the boys in the wedding?"

Amber said. "No. Amy had received both smarts and experience from Amanda's wedding. Amy elected to eliminate the two footed little beasties from the start. They weren't in the wedding party or at the wedding either. They were going to be babysat at a local hotel around the corner with their paid nanny for the afternoon event and then invited to the wedding dinner and dance, after singing the 'I do.'"

"Wasn't there a little flower girl?" Appleton said.

Amber said. "No. I don't have little nieces or first girl cousins, only the beasty boys."

Belfort said. "You sound like you don't like the boys."

Amber frowned. "No. I do not."

Belfort said. "Let me ask? Do Congressman Davidson and his family visit you at your home?"

Amber frowned. "No. They do not. I returned home at eleven o'clock and four minutes. I had arranged for my personal vehicle to be parked at the restaurant for the rehearsal dinner. Therefore, I drove my own vehicle home allowing for an easy escape route of a boring party for the night. The traffic was light. I do enjoy driving passed the speed limit in my sports car," she giggled. "When I left, the people and party were blasting the doors off the frames with music, dancing, and drinking. Gerando can attest to my observations. I retired to bed mostly from the stress of the day's event. The day before had been that awful bridesmaids' luncheon with all of Amy's snobby sorority sisters who were pitied with the royal arrogant maidens, coming from the State Capital from my dad's Alabama public servant office staff. It was an entertaining scene for twenty-seven women of false eyelashes and painted red lips, spitting and clawing figuratively like a litter of kitty cats at each other. I have strayed from the original question. The next day, it was the actually the wedding ceremony. I awoke at eight o'clock and eight minutes am which is my usual getting-up hour for my day's activities. This particular day was different. I was summoned to my dad's house in Mountain Stream at eight o'clock and ten minutes am for a conference meeting. I drove to the house and waited with anticipation of the intriguing newscast. Amy had decided that the wedding party would get a set of early wedding pictures at noon, dressed in our nasty blue peacockie costumes..."

"Miss Ashmore, you sound surprised at that decision." Belfort wrote down her words on top of the paper notebook with an ink pen.

Amber nodded, "Very surprised! I wasn't expecting for all of us to meet at the church, before the actual wedding. Usually, the pics are taken, after the wedding. I learned that Foster, the groom would be there with Amy, the bride. It was just odd to me."

Appleton said, "And it was a surprise too."

Belfort said. "Please, allow me to make a clear assumption here. You were not included on the planning end of your sister's wedding. I want to clarify in terms of the wedding process, such as, the selection of the church, the flowers, the bridesmaid's dress, etc. I thought all sisters enjoyed the pomp and circumstances of the lifetime event."

"I can follow your mental thought processes, Mr. Belfort. The answer is no. I wasn't included. I elected to stay outside the entire planning process for my own sanity." Amber smiled.

Belfort nodded. "I can see your mental logic here. The wedding picture taking event had changed the time into early in the morning. Did your sister express why a sudden impromptu decision?"

"No. I was told simply to be there at noon in my costume gown. Before going to the church, I rambled around the house, tidying up phone calls and checking emails. I exercised and swim laps in the pool, drying out my body in the bright hot sunshine," Amber turned and smiled at the nose profile of Hawk, looking back at Belfort with a stern face.

"You exercised. Do you run outside your home inside the streets of Ironside?" Belfort asked.

Amber smiled at Belfort. "No. I have a small room with a set of free weights and a long bar for some simple ballet moves. I'm not a very good ballerina, but ballet is a wonderful form of body toning. I work out about three times per week for my health and stress factor. I can show you the room, if you would like," she turned and smiled a Hawk. He smiled back.

Belfort shook a skull and took down her words on the paper notebook. "That will not be necessary, Miss Ashmore."

"After a good sweat and strong smell, I bathed changing into that costume." Amber smiled at Hawk.

Appleton said to Amber. "Please, forgive the interruption, again, Miss Ashmore. But, you do not seem happy about Amy getting married."

Amber turned and said with a stern face to Appleton. "You miss understand, ma'am. I was thrilled Amy was getting married. I wasn't thrilled about being in the wedding. I personally asked to sit in the audience like a guest. I was ordered as a bridesmaid, since my dad is...was the governor."

Belfort said. "The stress, you are referring is the media reporters."

Amber nodded. "Media, the photographers and the reporters, this is a wedding for the governor's daughter with big massive media event plus mega doses of stress."

Belfort nodded. "We understand. Please continue, Miss Ashmore."

Amber exhaled with a puff of annoyance with the interrogation session and reached down, lifting and sipped on the sweaty glass of cold water, replacing it back down over the table, staring with a stern face at Belfort. "I changed into that uncomfortable gown with the three itchy crinolines. You haven't lived until you can't touch your toes in a formal antebellum dress."

"Miss Ashmore, please forgive my interruption, again." Appleton said. "I realize that we are getting to the meat as they say of your story. But I have some more personal questions that I would like to pursue, if you don't object."

Amber grinned with a giggle. "Not at all, that's why I here. You can ask me any question you would like."

Appleton smiled. "Excellent! For the record, I have Miss Amber Ashmore's permission to ask any question as needed. So, I turn to the FBI agent, who is hosting our committee. I would like permission to direct a question at a more personal nature, just for ten minutes, no more."

Belfort turned and narrowed both eyelids at Appleton, making the other occupants rustle inside a chair. "Let the recording state that FBI agent Belfort accepts the re-direction of a few personal questions for Miss Amber Ashmore. You may begin, Miss Appleton. Let me remind you that I am timing the ten-minute limit."

"Yes sir." Appleton smiled. "Miss Ashmore, I have drawn a rough sketch made of the letter X which represents the wedding party. You can see on my paper pad. The bride Amy and the groom Foster. The matron of honor was your sister Amanda who was escorted by her husband Oscar. Was there a best man?"

Amber turned and stared with a stern face at the poor sketch. "Oscar was best man."

Appleton turned and marked a tick on the paper with a nod. "That is interesting. How did he become the best man? Do you happen to know the story behind that event?"

Amber blinked open and shut both eyelashes with a stern face. "Amanda and Amy are very close. Amanda was six years older than I while Amy was five years. They attended the same high school and college together with the same set of social friends. Foster knew Oscar. Oscar knew Foster. I do not any additional data to share with you. Sorry!"

Appleton asked. "Did you not socialize with your biological sisters?"

Amber said. "Six years is a big number difference. Amanda was heavy into dating Oscar. Oscar is older by four years Amanda's junior. And he was heavy into his law career. My dad started out as the mayor of Irondale and then moved into a circle of political mavericks and finally ended up inside the governor's chair in Montgomery."

The mayor of Ironside smiled with a nod. "I believe that there was some talk of a presidential career move for Governor Ashmore."

Amber dropped open and shut a mouth. "Yes."

"Back to the wedding scene, Amy didn't assign any more groomsmen for her wedding party for escorts of little old ladies into the church pews." Appleton asked.

Amber said. "No. There's only the two of them. Oscar and Foster had sibling brothers and sisters that I met once or twice. The most recent visitation was at the rehearsal dinner which was very brief. And Amy elected not to have additional bridesmaids or groomsmen."

Appleton smiled. "You weren't going to be escorted down the aisle after the official wedding ceremony."

Amber giggled with a nod. "I was the odd man out as they could say."

Appleton inquired. "The wedding party consisted of the bride, the groom, the three bridesmaids, and two groomsmen, not a flower girl or a ring bearer. Was there going to be a musical singer for any church songs? Or maybe, was there a lovely scripture reading from the Holy Bible by a stranger or family member?"

Amber smiled. "No. This was a true southern type quickie wedding. The bride and groom marched down the white runner with a bridal song. They said: I do and I do. Then he kissed the new wife and left as the newest wife and husband couple towards an expensive and elaborate wedding reception."

"How many guests were invited for the blessed event?" Appleton inquired.

Amber said. "There were one thousand invitations sent out...."

Appleton dropped open and shut a mouth. "One thousand invites equaled two thousand people..."

"...or more," Belfort said.

The police captain of Ironside smiled with a nod. "The church auditorium could hold four thousand based on Brother Langford's data."

Belfort frowned. "But, the private cozy small chapel which was located on the eastern side of the big four thousand seat church auditorium was decorated with flowers too."

Amber frowned with annoyance. "O. I'm supposed to explain that also to ya'll."

Belfort smiled. "That would be a big help, Miss Ashmore."

Amber nodded. "The one thousand invitations were actually congregated into 4,352 people..."

"...at the church," frowned Belfort.

Amber said. "No. You do not understand. Amy planned for a big wedding, but my dad planned the multiple wedding receptions. There were three separate wedding receptions. The first one was at the church fellowship hall for a round of special friends and family members. The second one was planned at the Ironside Inn ballroom which was down the street from the church for two thousand people. And a third wedding reception was planned at the Ironside Hotel for the remaining two thousand smelly and heated bodies. Amy and Foster would rotate around the three different receptions, partying for the rest of the night until the wee morning hours."

"You don't approve of dinner and dancing." Appleton smirked.

Amber exhaled. "It was Amy's wedding for just more television media to follow her, Foster, Amanda, Oscar, my mom, and dad's face while socializing around the city of Ironside. That's all."

"You were not part of a rotating wedding reception, I take it." Belfort smirked.

Amber said. "I agreed to be in the wedding and attend the first toast at the church for my new family member and then eat a butter frosted white and red covered single piece of wedding cake. Then I was out of there."

Appleton smiled. "Do you not like weddings, Miss Ashmore?"

Amber said. "The two other weddings, where I had participated before as a bridesmaid, was very stressful. And please, do forgive the term. It was a whirlwind of drama, not much fun for the poor side characters."

Belfort inquired. "You didn't bring a date for some fun and dancing at one of the receptions, maybe at the Ironside Hotel. They have a very good band for nightly entertainment."

Amber cut her eyelashes to Hawk with a smirk. "I'm not currently dating at the moment." Hawk turned and looked down with a smirk at his hands.

"Is you reason the mass media reporters, perhaps?" Appleton smirked.

Amber turned and smiled at Appleton. "There are lots of different reasons, perhaps."

"Thank you, Miss Appleton. Your three minutes has expired." Belfort smiled at Amber. "Miss Ashmore, do you require a break?"

Amber shook her curls, "No sir."

Belfort smiled, "Excellent. We have exhausted the trips and travels from Thursday morning to Friday night. Finally, we have arrived at the moment of high noon on Saturday the day of Amy's wedding. Miss Ashmore, could you please relay step by step the events of the moment?"

Amber dropped a chin down into her chest with a sigh, blinking both eyelashes at Belfort. "I walked from my house which is three blocks from the church into the small chapel. Amy, Foster, my mom, my dad, Oscar, and Amanda were there standing and discussing who was going to stand next to the bride. I entered through the back entrance of church and then walked through the music hallway, sliding into the fellowship hall, where the tables were set up for the wedding reception. I followed the narrow corridor to the side door of the small chapel."

Belfort frowned, "There is a side door into the small chapel."

Amber said. "The chapel has a main entrance, coming from the eastern side off the street for parishioners to enter the contemporary services on Sunday mornings, Sunday nights, and Wednesday evenings. Normally, the side door is locked and sealed all the other times. This time, it was opened by Brother Langford for the wedding party. Amy and her parents came through the city street entrance doors. I came from the back parking lot which is diagonal from my residence. I stepped out of the dark hallway into the bright overhead natural lighting from the sunny day inside the archway of the church auditorium, sorta blinded from the sun. I stopped and heard the voice of my mom. She yelled for me to collect Amy's banquet inside the kitchen counter. So, I turned back around and head back into the reception area with the cakes and food trays. I had seen the bridal bouquet on the first table as I passed from the side door. I didn't realize it was Amy's. I thought it was part of the total yellow and blue decoration."

Belfort asked. "Why did your mother say the kitchen, instead of the table?"

Amber shrugged. "My mom probably thought I would understand. The reception area is connected to the kitchen space for serving meals and refreshments for events. I did understand, once I noted the flowers on the table."

Belfort nodded. "Please continue, Miss Ashmore."

Amber said. "I could hear their voices arguing about the set up pose of the wedding pictures. Amy is so bossy, sometimes. This was her wedding. She should allow people to stand where she wanted them. Then I remembered the voices stopped. I turned sharply to the left standing not inside the doorway, but a foot from the door frame. I saw the gunman walk pass the fourth pew which was decorated with the bundle of flowers from my garden. He was covered in head to toe in black, leather black. I immediately thought of him as a motorcycle dude and wondered whose friend he was. The man pulled out two weapons from the pockets of the heavy thick solid black jacket. One gun for each black gloved hand with a round tipped silencer. I had seen one of those before used by the security personnel.

"He fired the left gun first. The bullet hit the side of Mrs. Langford's head. She fell onto the floor with thudding sound. The next sounds were like little firecrackers, moving fast and swift in the air waves. I saw the photographer land on her face as the bullet entered the back of her head. The gunman shot Amanda, who was on the left of altar and then my dad and then Oscar and then my mom and then Amy and finally Foster. I could only see the tops of everyone's head where I stood. Then I didn't see anyone's head anymore. I stared at the gunman in silence. I was too scared to cry out or react or fight or flee. He stood upright and holstered twin weapons back into the jacket on each side with each hand. He removed the black motorcycle helmet with both his empty hands. He was tall about five feet and eight inches with a slender built based on the bulky jacket and a pair of long leather pants. His head was bald. His face was clean shaven. His nose was hooked. His eyes were small. His cheekbones were dots of bones. His forehead was wide. His head was heart shaped with a set of big ears. He was pale. He reminded me of a bald eagle with a set of small round eyes and a pointy bleak without white feathers. He leaned down and then straightened back up."

Belfort gasped. "The murdered leaned down, which person, Amber?"

"I..."

"Was it over your dad?"

Amber shook her curls. "No. He moved closer to my side of the room."

Belfort reached over and stole the sketch from Appleton, sliding it towards Amber, fingering each person. "Look at this sketch. This is where all the bodies laid. Who could he have leaned over too?"

Amber looked down with a stern face and studied the simple drawing of squared boxes with names of her relatives and position of their deaths on the altar floor at the church, pointing at the box with a nod. "I believe that it was either Oscar or Amanda. The gunman leaned over one of their bodies for two seconds, not any more time. Then, he stood and pivoted with a twirl, marching back down the white runner and out the door, leaving the church."

Belfort asked. "What did you do next, Miss Ashmore?"

She said. "I turned to my left. I strolled down the hallway towards the reception area and placed Amy's bouquet back onto the table, where I found it. I walked out the door across the parking lot and into my house, using the side entrance with the key underneath the swan water fountain. I walked to the sofa, sitting, and waiting for Amy to come and get me for the wedding."

Tate pointed with a stern face at Amber. "She had experienced post-traumatic shock syndrome. Basically, her brain shuts down without accessing or absorbing the stimuli that she had eye witnessed with the two eyeballs. Its defensive mechanism is built into our cellubrium for surviving trauma and deep embedded tragedy."

Belfort asked. "Why did you put Amy's flowers back on the table?"

Amber exhaled. "That was where I had found them."

Tate nodded. "Miss Ashmore was desperately trying to assimilate the data that she had seen inside her consciousness. But her sub-conscious mind was rejecting the information. Her act to replace or put back the flowers back on the table represented the purging of all the new stimuli from her brain cells. It doesn't work like that."

Belfort turned and frowned at Tate. "Why didn't she run at or from the gunman?"

Tate said. "This is called a self-preservation instinct which is used by both animals and mammals alike. Her sub-conscious could not process the stimuli but could recognize danger, harm, or maybe death of her biological life form, if she had reacted to the delicate situation. Opossums and some insects stand in silence when they're being threatened or attacked. People are unpredictable life forms. Amber's personality nature is to stay..."

"...sit and heel..." the police captain laughed with the others. "Thank goodness! She's not a police officer."

Belfort said. "Let's break for fifteen minutes before continuing with more questions."

All the people stood upright from the chair and turned, muttering to each face or into a mobile telephone, swinging around, leaving the dining room.

Hawk stood upright from the chair and leaned down, assisting Amber to stand. She stood and smiled at Hawk. He turned and escorted, patting her arm with a smile, moving out the dining room for a break also.

Amber moved through the floor and released the hand of Hawk, ascending up the staircase into her room for the break time.

Hawk moved backward with a smile and sat down into one of the empty bar stools. His co-workers Cody, Mink, Tate, and Rob occupied the other stools and sipped on cold beverages.

Cody shook his curls with a sour frown down at the floor. "Does not look good?"

"It looks okay." Hawk continued to watch the top of the staircase for Amber.

"She appears on the outside to possess a diva attitude about everything, including the family." Mink stared out the window at the lovely flower garden and bright rays of sunshine over the manicured lawn.

"Part of the fairy princess package," Tate chuckled and then sipped the beverages, scanning the living room.

"I don't think so." Hawk exhaled and continued to watch for Amber on top of the upper floor of the house.

Cody sipped the beverage and swallowed with a stern face. "Did she act like the arrogant heiress at the breakfast club early this am, Hawk?"

Hawk shook a skull and reached down on the bar surface, touching the beverage from Cody. "No. She was very polite, well, she was hungry. I did most of the talking."

Mink turned and frowned at the nose profile of Tate. "Why is she acting normal, today, Tate? She was a pixie yesterday with her one sentence grammar structure."

Tate sipped and swallowed the liquid with a nod. "She was in shock, traumatized. You can't shock a person out of a profound emotional state like melancholy, madness, or even a blissness of love."

Cody chuckled and raised the beverage. "I can shock you out of blissness. Is that a fucking word, Tate?"

Mink turned and slapped the arm of Cody with a stern face. "Hush, Cody."

Tate sipped and swallowed the beverage with a nod. "Try to understand, psychosis is a generic psychiatric term for a mental state of mind in which thought and perception are impaired. For example, acute, chronic, alcoholic, senile, or toxic, Amber suffered a semi-psychosis, not a full one. Different parts of her personality were fragmented, hence the saying of the same phrase over and over again. Her brain cells were not connected to each other resulting in a state of internal chaos with her emotions, feels, perceptions..."

Cody nodded. "She was schizoid..."

Tate said. "Amber was disordered, not schizophrenic. She sounded quite coherent and appeared normal..."

Cody chuckled. "Except for the repeating chorus like in a rock and roll song, without the guitar and drum solo..."

Mink turned and reached out, slapping the arm of Cody with a stern face for a second time. "Hush, Cody!"

Tate said. "Cody is correct, sorta. Her healthy parts of her personality were fragmented. Fragment means to break or detach. During her RMO sleep patterns, her personality reattached. But the nerves, blood, and the enzymes continued to flow and govern the gray matter."

Cody sipped and swallowed the liquid with a stern face. "Is she going to defrag later today? These were the first set of murder based questions. The harder ones are next."

Tate said. "I predict not. Amber is a very strong-willed and strong-minded being. She will do well, not becoming defragged like Cody has created."

Cody smiled. "What's your interpretation, boss man?"

Rob sipped and swallowed the liquid with a nod. "She was cool like a cucumber throughout the interrogation. She didn't whine, cry, or pout. She has guts and gravel. That's for certain. Did she kill her own people? I'm not going to stick the poker inside that fire."

"Ah, now! You got to play the game with your little Indians, chief. Or we're going to dethrone your assets," Cody laughed with the others. Rob shook a skull.

Amber strolled down the steps with a smile and a nod to Hawk. He slid off the bar stool with a grin and parking both hands on his hips. She stopped and stood in front of him with a smile. She had re-applied her perfume. His nostrils smelled her fresh odor of flowers and as he extended an arm. She reached out and cuddled into the arm of Hawk.

They slowed moved ahead towards the dining room while whispering with smiles into each other's face.

11:01 am

Dining room location

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Hawk, Amber, and the deputies entered and occupied each assigned chair while missing the AV technicians and other interviewers. Amber turned with a confused brow and scanned the empty table and Hawk. "Are we finished for the day?"

Hawk turned and shook a skull to Amber. "I'm afraid not. Belfort is the monitor of this event. We gotta wait for a little bit. We can sit and talk thou. Are you hungry, thirsty?"

"No." Amber shook her curls and then looked down with a worried brow at her manicured hands. She could go anywhere without a deputy following behind her, realizing that she might not go anywhere inside the city without permission. She saw the killer and was an eye witness in danger. She exhaled with shivers in nervousness and looked up with a stern face to see the side wall that held the decorative plates.

Cody sat down inside Rob's dining room chair and lifted up, rubbing all fingers over the rough wooden table with a smile. "The pigment and figures of the dining table is unique. Is it walnut?"

Amber turned and smiled at the nose profile of Cody. "It's rosewood actually."

Cody stood upright and leaned down, shoving the table with both muscular arms for strength and durability with a loud grunt, "Strong and tough like me."

Tate entered the room and stood behind Cody, reaching down and slapped the collar bone on Cody with a laugh and a smile, "Let's toss Cody onto the wood and see who breaks first," he chuckled with the other deputies.

Amber giggled with a grin. "I'm afraid that Deputy Cody won't last long. This table is not only an ancient piece of wood bark. It was built and bolted around the year 1468 around the time of the legendary King Arthur and his knights of the round table."

Cody stood upright and rubbed both hands over the rough wood with a confused brow. "So, the table used to be squared."

"Rectangle, as they say." Amber smiled. "This piece of history is true and hard and tough like a US Marshal, maybe," she turned and winked with a smile to Hawk. He chuckled.

Cody back stepped and side stepped, scooting around the edge of the table with a puzzled brow. "How do you know the history of your table, Miss Amber?"

Amber nodded with a smile. "Sir Thomas Malory wrote the tale of King Arthur around the year 1469. The royal family, as told by the antique dealer, was fond of the legend and constructed this wooden table for the breakfast cubby and then it eventually landed inside Windsor Castle."

Cody turned and gasped to Amber, "Queen Elizabeth of the Windsor Castle..."

Amber nodded with a grin. "Correct, Deputy Cody! The English castle of the royals over there and over the pond water as we Americans say. The old English castles and older stuffy English nobles are filled to the gills with antique furniture and whatnot's. Us serfs or commoners or working folks like to purchase and collect. I guess acting act a noble fantasy."

Hawk frowned at Amber. "Are you a collector of medieval furniture, Amber?"

Amber said. "No. The table belonged to Amanda. I believe that Amanda didn't want it and passed it to me."

"The thing doesn't fit into the room." Cody extended both arms and measured the edges of the dining room to the side wall.

Amber grinned. "I agree. I had the space of the dining room reshaped to accommodate the size and length. I'm not really a decorator. I just told her to paint the walls white and add the white carpeting. If you can't decorate, then contrast everything. One of the decorators had quoted to me," giggling.

Cody reached out and rubbed the chair with a smile. "This is one of the real Ming dynasty style chairs, which is not complimentary of the rogue table."

Amber nodded with a smile, "Excellent point, Deputy Cody! Your house must be well appointed with good taste. Another long story, I will deluge with the shortened version. My mom had the chairs and the table built for one of many parties then one of her snobby guests didn't like the feel of the chair. So, the poor chairs got abandoned and given to me. Thus, I gave them a home. I admit that I like the design."

Cody reached over and rubbed the table, moving around the edge of the wood. "You could customize a table for the Ming dang chairs."

Amber nodded with a grin. "Yes, I could. I thought long and hard about that idea. Actually, I believed the room held the chairs, before the table was adopted by me also. I just joined the two together into this room."

Cody looked down with a stern face at the thick carpet. "It doesn't seem to be used much with the white carpet."

Amber turned and smiled to Hawk, "Alas, no. I don't really like entertaining. It would help if I had people to entertain with my furniture. However, it is a nice room with a nice view of the swimming hole."

Cody completed the walk around the dining room table and rubbed the wood with a smile, stopping and stood in front of the wall of glass which was a built-in book shelf, "Gotcha."

"When I think about the pool, it truly is more like a hole that the landscape decorator dug down into the ground to disguise the patch of green grass over the septic tank." Amber smiled.

Cody spun around the small space with a grin to see Amber. "I enjoyed the pool, yesterday. The chairs and table does look funny with the built-in wall shelves."

Amber smiled with a nod. "Ah. The shelves were here first. They will stay until I sell the house. Have you noted the numerous contents inside the shelves, Deputy Cody?"

He swung around with a smile and pointed to the object through the glass door on the built-in wall unit. "A silver drinking mug..."

"Open the glass." Amber nodded. "That is not just a silver drinking mug," Cody opened the door and reached inside, grabbing and held the mug in the air near his eyeballs. She said. "That mug was created in the year 1762 by the famous colonial patriot and silversmith Paul Revere. It was the rage for the time."

Cody raised the mug towards the lips with a grin. "Can you drink from it?"

She grinned, "Definitely."

Rob entered the room and stood behind Amber, staring with a sour frown at the back spine of Cody, who held a silver mug. "Return the mug to its home, now, Cody. We will not try that technique, ever. Please, don't give Cody ideas. He implements them immediately with a set of bad outcomes."

Amber laughed with a nod. "I'll remember that. No, Deputy Cody. Please, don't drink from the silver. You might get sick or something."

Cody studied the mug. "How much is the antique mug worth?"

Amber exhaled. "I would guess about three thousand dollars. The silver inlay is more valuable than that actually mug artifact."

Cody returned the mug and reached over, lifting a new object into the air and towards his smile. "Is that a ceramic vase or something?"

She nodded. "That is a stoneware white water cooler in pretty blue spotted flowers that was fired around the 1830s from a furnace in Bennington, Vermont. The little tiny round things are ceramic cups which are decorated with an array of tiny baby blue flowers that came with the water cooler."

Cody returned the object with a nod. "Cool, man."

Hawk turned and frowned at the nose profile of Amber. "I thought you didn't collect antiques."

She turned and nodded to Hawk. "I do not. This pair came from Amy's china cabinet when she redecorated her dining room in warm tones of beige and green, not blue and white."

Cody pointed at the new object with a grin. "And the glass bottle with the distinctive diamond and daisy pattern, that's an original Henry William Stiegel."

She turned and smiled at the back spine of Cody. "You possess a very good eye, Deputy..."

Hawk leaned over and whispered into her eardrum. "Call him, Cody. Call me, anytime."

Amber giggled with a smile at the back spine of Cody. "The hand blown molded glass was created in the year 1845 in the country of Germany. Amanda didn't like the purple hue. She was looking for red instead. The little critter came to live with me."

Cody exhaled with a huff of confusion and continued to study the art collection behind the glass window with a nod. "You possess some pricey antique items inside your collection. I see some polished gems. Is that a sapphire stone in shiny purple?"

She nodded with a smile. "Yes, it is part of the crown. The best piece of my antique collection is the chalice of Antioch that is decorated in Egyptian curved gold figures that are inlayed with a silver lining."

Cody pointed with a smile to the chalice, "Priceless."

"I guess." Amber exhaled. "My dad had acquired the cup at a private auction, before he became governor. He didn't want it inside his private residence in Mountain Stream where it could be exposed to the elements or thieves without leaving an army of security guards. I adopted it for the time being. I'm always at home and I don't enjoy traveling. It is safe here."

Belfort led the other interviewers back into the dining room and sat back down into an assigned chair with a stern face, turning to see each ass or face. "Everyone grab a seat or your posted seat, before we had adjoined. We need to continue. Miss Ashmore, could you be kind enough to indulge us, again?"

Amber turned with a stern face and a nod to see Belfort, "Yes sir." The rest of the guest settled back down into the chair. Then the room was quiet.

Belfort cleared a throat for attention. "Miss Ashmore, is this a pretty good sketch of the gunman?" He slid to her a drawing in charcoal of a face.

Amber accepted and studied the face, sliding it back with a stern face to Belfort. "Yes."

Belfort turned and nodded to the male. "Art, you have questions for Miss Ashmore. You are next."

Art nodded to Belfort and then turned to see Amber with a stern face. "Miss Ashmore, I am Art Lopez from the IRS field office here in Birmingham. We have been scrutinizing all the financial records of the Ashmore family for the past year, so far. I do not know how to approach this subject with dignity, except to blurt it out into the open. But, your father Governor Ashmore was financial broke. His personal and private bank account at Third National Alabama Bank held four dollars and seventy-three cents."

Amber giggled with a grin. "He didn't get his allowance for the week. Huh?" Silence invaded the dining room air waves.

Art cleared a throat. "Both your father and mother exhausted, used, and cashed-out all monetary accounts consisting of saving accounts, stock deeds, life insurance policies, and both IRA funds. His estate at this moment consists of the private residential house in Mountain Stream and the land asset under the foundation floor. Did you know about this financial data, Miss Ashmore?"

"Yes." Amber nodded.

Appleton frowned. "Please elaborate more with your curt answer, Miss Ashmore?"

Belfort said. "Miss Appleton, please allow Art to finish his fact findings. Then we can chat about the missing accounts."

Art tapped on top of the paper with a stern face. "The IRS and the FBI have probed into the estates of Amanda and Oscar Ashmore, also. The joint checking account contains one dollar and twenty-one cents for the final bank balance. The previous investments of various hedge funds have been exhausted or cash-out as well. Interesting enough! The monies were withdrawal at the very same time period of the monetary reference with your father. All that is left between the married couples is the joint ownership of the private residential house and land asset."

Belfort said. "That isn't left anymore. Miss Ashmore has anyone told you that Amanda's house in Montgomery burned to the ground yesterday, after the shooting."

Amber dropped open and shut a mouth. "Was anyone hurt or harmed from the fire? Amanda wasn't home. She doesn't have pets. Thank goodness. I didn't know. I'm glad Amanda didn't see that, either. She loved that house."

Art said. "Foster Gordon, who was going to marry your sister Amy, held ten dollars and thirty-six cents inside his bank checking account. All his investments were liquidated last year which was the same time period as the other monetary accounts, except of course his private residential house and land assets in Mobile."

Belfort said. "Foster's house was burnt, also, yesterday."

Art said. "Miss Ashmore, I must inform you that for the pass twenty-four hours, the IRS has been deeply probing into your financial records, too. You are a very, very rich woman. Your portfolio contains a little over seventy million dollars which is held in numerous interest bearing trust funds that are located at the local branch of the Third National Alabama Bank in Birmingham. Would this all be correct?" All eyeballs turned and stared at Amber.

Amber tucked down a chin, a habit when she was nervous or embarrassed. She softly said, "Yes."

Art exhaled with a smile. "I am very proud to report that you pay your state of Alabama and US Federal income taxes each year, without a timely delay or a monetary penalty. For these curious parties, Miss Ashmore uses the IRS to calculate her taxes for accuracy, as well as, payment of her taxes owed to Uncle Sam. Bravo, Miss Ashmore! However, the most interesting item of your financial records show the use of the selected money management department at Third National Alabama Bank. For those of us, working stiffs, who do not employ a money management company, this is a fee for service provided by banks across the US for handling monies for people who do not want to fool around with paying their own expenses each month, or do travel extensively without the use US Post Office for mail delivery. The money management company writes the checks for all monetary invoices from the estate bank account, taking great care of documenting the paperwork for the client in case of fraud or misappropriation of monies. This service is utilized more by millionaires than regular bank account holders. Miss Ashmore has been a client for the past five years. Is that right, Miss Ashmore?" She nodded in silence. Art said. "Please, allow me to list her assets for all eardrums: the private residential house and land, the sports car, the furnishings inside the house, the electronics, and the personal clothes along with ten platinum credit cards with various limits from a low amount of ten thousand to one hundred thousand dollars. Currently, each credit cards show a zero dollar balance. I would expect no least from an elegant lady like Miss Ashmore with simple tastes raised properly in the great state of Alabama...."

"You're pushing my wrong buttons, Art." Belfort frowned.

Art smiled at Amber, "Very well! Her assets are limited and her liabilities are zero. She does not hold any loans, notes, or mortgages as stated by her financial records. However, it has come to my attention through the cooperation of the Third National Alabama Bank that your personal bank account pays for your monthly bills, consisting of the electricity from power company, the telephone landline service which is combined with a package of internet service, mobile phone plans, and paid television and satellite services, water cooler delivery, soda vending machines, a maid service, a carpet cleaning service, a garden and landscaping service, a window cleaning services, a food home delivery service, a car wash and detail home service, a book of the month club, and numerous other listed services," grinning.

"Miss Ashmore, may I see your mobile phone, please?" Belfort extended a palm with a nod.

Hawk turned and scanned the window then her and finally Belfort. "Miss Ashmore doesn't have dish satellite...."

"Or a soda vending machine, there is not one located in a basement, Amber." Cody frowned.

Hawk turned and frowned at the nose profile of Cody. "The house doesn't have a basement, Cody."

Cody smiled with a nod. "So that explains the missing soda machine," snickering.

Belfort asked. "Miss Ashmore, can you explain the numerous payments of the numerous monthly services which are missing from your house for all of us?"

Amber turned and scanned each face with a puzzled brow. "I do not possess a mobile telephone, sir. I pay all the monthly services for my dad, my mom, my sister Amanda, her husband Oscar, my other sister Amy, and her future husband Foster."

Cody gasped. "What for, girl?"

Belfort smiled. "Tell us what happened, Miss Ashmore?"

Amber exhaled with a puff of embarrassment and turned, scanning with a stern brow to see each face and finally back to Belfort. "Foster is a stock broker and a part time idiot. He talked everyone including my dad and my mom into investing into this new break-through science company which was located in Huntsville. Huntsville is the space shuttle and military defense weapons capital of the USA. All great scientific and technological minds live and work there, since the 1960s, a good track record and all that vibrato."

Appleton smiled with a nod at Amber. "You were not sold, Miss Ashmore."

She shook her curls. "No. I do not invest any of my monies into a failed fledgling company. I received some bad vibes from the awesome sale pitch of awful Foster. He said that the company needed a fresh source of cash, capital, and clients, and then the company folded, taking all of the Ashmore's fortune with it. The money fortune was not vast. Governor Ashmore, my dad was worth about five million dollars. My sister Amy had one million dollars. My other sister Amanda coupled with Oscar held one point five million dollars. It is a pile of nice bucks, if you did not want to work for the rest of your life like Amy and Amanda wanted to do."

Appleton asked. "Where did your money come from an inheritance?"

Amber nodded. "Yes. My Grandmother Ashmore saved all her pennies and nickels and had a wicked sense of humor. She left inside her Last Will and Testimony all her estate to be liquidated and the money split between her sons Wharton and Davidson, and her cute three granddaughters that she couldn't ever see grow up. The granddaughters were only walking toddlers with a set of stinky diapers at the time. The money invested over time grew to one million dollars for each daughter. At eighteen years old, I received my bank account and then rolled over into my name and my person for legal purposes," she cleared a throat of tears.

Belfort said. "You felt obligated to help your family from the bad investment into the fledging company in Huntsville."

Amber shook her curls. "No. I felt both harassed and blackmailed."

Cody leaned over and whispered into the cheekbone of Hawk. "Those are not good words to say at the moment." Hawk reached over and patted the hand of Amber underneath the table for support with a stern face in silence.

Art frowned with confusion. "Amber, when did the bankruptcy occur for your father? I can't find any record of debt."

She said. "My dad called a meeting with his biological family unit. He told all of us the money situation. He was going to file for bankruptcy. It was pity party. I was the one that got pitted like an olive."

Art frowned with puzzlement. "You agreed to pay all their on-going monthly expenses..."

"Until Amy and Amanda could find a pair of paying work jobs, so they could get personal loans to cover their individual outstanding debts. I didn't want my parents to declare bankruptcy. My dad was an Alabama senator then..."

Belfort nodded. "The appearance wouldn't have been bad for his political image..."

"Bad for him, his family, and his Alabama," Amber giggled with a nod. "So, I footed the bill for six months. I called a meeting expressing my desire to end the drought, demanding Amy and Amanda got a job to pay their expenses..."

Belfort nodded. "Your father..."

She exhaled. "They were my father and my mother. I didn't have the heart to order them to pay me back or stop the management company from writing the checks. They had to eat and bathe."

Art frowned. "After six months, your sisters didn't have a job."

Amber giggled with a nod. "Only more debts, I am a slow learner. More importantly, I trusted my money management company. They are good. They pay all invoices that I instruct on time, without question or harassment towards the business vendors. While I was paying on both Amy and Amanda's credit card bills, the girls were maximizing out the limits of the plastic by buying clothes, shoes, and whatever. I took me six months to figure that out," she shook her curls.

Cody leaned over the wood and Hawk to see the nose profile of Amber. "Wow. Are they really your evil step-sisters?" He sat back with a sour frown, shaking his curls at the greed of money.

Belfort said. "You didn't enjoy going on shopping sprees with your sisters."

"I...I learned. I readied another meeting with the family, planning to cut off the credit cards. I actually cut them up, so the evil step-sisters couldn't use them," Amber giggled with a nod.

Cody nodded with a smile, "Good for you, Amber."

She said. "At the family meeting, I initialed the tables that were turned back on me. Amanda announced her love and betrothal to Oscar. He was secured as a husband for her and her future. She didn't need a job, but she held her own debts, which he would pay."

Belfort nodded. "You paid for the wedding."

She exhaled with a nod. "Yes, my dad couldn't. He was so embarrassed. I was heartbroken over his embarrassment. I secretly met with him, without Amy and Amanda. My mom knew but she pretended to ignore the situation. I paid for everything that Amanda and Oscar wanted...."

Appleton nodded with a smile. "I remembered that wedding. It was grand affair for a senator's daughter. The television stations played it for weeks."

Amber giggled with a nod, "Yeah. Tell me about it!"

Belfort frowned. "You paid for the wedding...."

"...the honeymoon, the house, the cars, the boat, the newlyweds," she nodded.

Art frowned. "Why didn't you say no?"

She turned and nodded to Art. "My dad asked me. I couldn't turn my daddy down."

Belfort said. "Senator Ashmore announced his bid for governorship at that time, after his daughter's wedding. You paid for his political governor's campaign with private funding from your personal bank account. Art, did you investigate Governor Ashmore's political campaign?"

Art turned and frowned at the nose profile of Belfort. "No. He had only been in public office for less his four-year governorship. That event usually comes after they leave the public office," he turned and nodded to Amber. "However, I do recall scanning the monies of his campaign. There were only one or two names."

Appleton turned and frowned at the nose profile of Art. "Do you remember Amber's name?"

Belfort frowned. "Art, didn't you think that odd?"

Art shrugged a shoulder with a stern face. "What oddity? This is Alabama, where a small town senator becomes governor. No. I might have seen her name, but she was listed as a family member. She was paying with her personal check for all campaign expenses."

Belfort said to Art. "Summary form, please! Amber pays for the family monthly expenses, instead of declaring bankruptcy. Amber pays for Amanda's wedding and thereafter. Amber pays for the governorship. Amber pays for Amy's wedding with no thereafter happiness," he turned and stared at Amber. "Why did you continue to pay the monthly expenses?"

Art turned and smiled at Amber. "They found out about your awesome seventy plus million dollar bank account. Didn't they?"

Amber looked down to see the sweaty water glass with a stern face. "My dad guessed. He never asked..."

"Only begged, borrowed, and stole, isn't that the old expression?" Art nodded with a grin.

Belfort said. "Amber, how did you become so rich?"

Appleton sneered, "Miss Ashmore, why are you not upset about each cold-blooded murder on your parents, your blood-kin sisters, and both of your two brothers-in-law? I would expect crying, weeping, and all that. They were your biological family members, only."

Amber turned and stared at Appleton. "Yes. I saw the real family. They loved money more than each other. They made that decision over me. I feel sad that I will never see them, again. They are gone..."

Art nodded. "They are in a better place in heaven."

Amber said. "I don't believe that they're in heaven."

Art nodded. "Amber is right. That greedy lot is burning their food down in hell."

Amber said. "No. I don't believe that they are in heaven or hell, because I don't believe in heaven or hell."

Belfort gasped. "You believe in Almighty God and his son Jesus Christ."

Amber frowned, "No."

Hawk squeezed her hand and frowned at her nose profile, "Why do you not believe in Almighty God and his son Jesus Christ, Amber?"

Rob frowned, "Hawk!"

Amber looked down at the sweaty glass. "When we die, we are gone and never to return back here or anywhere else."

Art asked. "Amber, where do you get your millions?"

Amber exhaled with a puff of annoyance and looked up with a stern face to see Art. "I was left one million dollars by my Grandmother Ashmore. I lived at home with my parents, while I attended college..."

Belfort asked. "Did you receive an academic scholarship?"

She exhaled. "No. I'm not book smart but studious by studying my lessons and working my assignments. I was in a sorority. I performed on a dance team in basketball. I enjoyed college, following far away from the twin footprints of Amy and Amanda. Both attended there with me. Amy was four years older and Amanda six years older. And both were still there, partying on campus. I decided to live at home, where it was quiet. I spend time studying finance, acquiring a major, five years later. I, also, enjoyed the concept of the stock market. I was fascinated how stocks rose and fell and could create an investor large some of monies within a day like magic. Of course, it wasn't magic. It was skill and luck. I played around with the penny stocks..."

Belfort frowned. "At eighteen years of age?"

She smiled. "You can do lots of stuff legally at the age of eighteen but not drink alcohol. I don't drink alcohol. I don't like the taste, but I'm not offended by people who consumed within reason. I invested in and out with the small time penny stocks, establishing a pattern and learning my way around the interactive stock market. When I become bolder, I contacted an investment company in New York buying one thousand dollars of shares into some active top one hundred blue blood established companies and another set of one thousands dollar shares into some new start-up companies. That really is how I begot my seventy million dollars."

Appleton frowned. "You got lucky?"

She smiled. "No. You're wrong. I actively worked the stock market and researched all the companies that I invested in every day and monitored my stocks every hour of the day. Thank you, internet! When I diversified my portfolio into major and minor companies, I could switch and move stocks around with ease. I lost money. I gained money. At all times, the stocks remained in the stock market, not a bank account. Once I had acquired about two million dollars in worthy stocks, I jerked the money out, paid my dues to Uncle Sam, and then invested half of it for more fortune. I kept doing that technique, making money, placing half in the bank, and half for investments. I did well. I finally was satisfied, when I reached fifty million dollars. I stopped. I ripped all my money out from the stocks and turned to conservative bonds and IRA accounts at the local bank. I allowed the Third National Alabama Bank to manage my personal investment portfolio. They are very good, making my money grow without me worrying about the details. That's how I got rich."

Appleton smirked. "You didn't share your riches with the family."

Amber smiled, "No."

Belfort frowned. "You didn't boast or brag to anyone."

She frowned. "No."

Belfort nodded. "I am definitely convinced that you are the one in danger, now. And I believe the gunman was after you, Miss Ashmore."

Rob frowned at Belfort, sitting next to Cody. "There is no physical or verbal evidence which points to that fact, sir."

Belfort turned and frowned to Rob. "Her family is dead with no one to watch over her. Two of her family residential houses have been burned down to the ashes. Does this not relay a serious deadly message, a message of both of worry and concern? You're next, Amber."

She shook her curls, "No."

Belfort turned and frowned to Amber. "You must face this fact, Amber. You are a millionaire living by yourself, without a body guard like a set of Hollywood movie stars have. You're very rich, Amber. You need one or two body guards for your safety."

"No. I live in a safe town. No one knows about my millions but my family."

Belfort said. "Amber, we don't have any significant leads on the gunman. To be quite honest, we all were wondering about your tall tale of a bald young man that looks like an eagle..."

"Ah," She laughed. "It was my sour attitude that I presented in regard to my loving biological family."

Appleton nodded. "That mental thought had crossed each thinking mind."

Belfort exhaled. "Who benefits from the deaths?"

She said. "I do. My dad set that particular death provision inside each Last Will and Testimony paperwork of each family member just in case something had happened, hoping that I could recoup some of my monies. You can check. I'm the benefactor in all the legal forms, before their deaths. I have copies, if you want to pursue them."

Art turned and scanned each face. "We each have our own copies of the Last Will and Testimony inside your individual folder. You can read all the papers at suppertime. If Amber dies, then the Davidson's annoying brats gets the monies."

She giggled with a smile. "They're untamed and wild like bear cubs, but I love them in my own way. I have a streak like my Grandmother Ashmore. I left a few million dollars for both Amy and Amanda, if they had outlived me. The bulk of my wealth goes to the boys at the age of eighteen."

Mink appeared and stood inside the open archway, staring with a stern face to the blonde hairy skull of Amber. "Miss Ashmore, Congressman Davidson is here. He would like to speak with you in private, please."

Amber looked down with a sour frown at the sweaty water glass and finally at Belfort. "Thank you. I must see my uncle." Belfort nodded in silence. She stood upright from the chair and turned, exiting the dining room.

12:04 pm

Living room location

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Amber marched across the tile and stood in front of Davidson, without a smile inside the open living room. Davidson was here for her money, as usual. She motioned and spun around, leading into the side door of the den space which was away from the dining room, stopping and stood in front of the sofa without viewing him. "How much is the cremations?"

Den setting

Davidson followed her ass through the archway and spun around, gently closing the door with a huff, swing around and moved ahead, standing behind her back spine with a puff a growl. "Young lady, I am going to bury the bodies in coffins, not ashes."

She spun around with a nod and a giggle to see her uncle. "Fine and dandy, you pay for it, Davidson. I agreed with Daddy for cremations. It's cheaper than..."

He leaned into her face with a sneer of annoyance. "Young lady, I do not like your sour puss tone. Your entire biological family is dead, permanently. You should show a great deal of respect for both your mama and daddy. May God rest their souls!"

"Your God created my greedy family. They are dead. Gone. Poof. No more. And I'm lucky that I wasn't with them."

"God saved you, young lady." He sneered.

She giggled with a nod. "Luck saved me. That's all great good luck. I'm the lucky duck of the family, not the black sheep like everyone likes...liked to gossip behind my ass and my set of closed doors. How much for the family sized cremations?"

He back stepped with a sad face and a nod. "I, only, ask this once."

She exhaled with a sour frown. "Davidson, you ask for a lot of little things only once then twice, then thrice..."

He frowned. "I do not like that you reference me by my Christian name, young miss."

She giggled with a grin. "Do you have another first name? No. How much money do you need to burn...?"

"Six bodies, it will be twelve thousand dollars per casket. About eighty thousand dollars should cover it plus the pretty casket and grounds flowers at the church and the cemetery..."

"Here is a one hundred thousand dollar check. Don't enjoy it!" Amber scribbled the numbers and ripped off the paper, handing a personal check to him with a sour frown. He accepted the check with a smile and spun around, moving towards the closed door. She exhaled with a puff of annoyance and said to his back spine. "Mama and Daddy are dead. I do not expect to see you anymore. Don't call. Don't write. Don't email me. Don't text. I don't want you to come over for Christmas, evening dinner, or the Fourth of July fireworks. Do you understand, Davidson?"

He swung around with a tired and defeated face. "Yes, Amber. I understand you. Enjoy your life!" Davidson spun around and swiftly exited the den and her house with a smile.

"I will." Amber moved ahead through the open archway and slammed the den door with a loud bang behind a fanny while removing the old memories and the old enemies.

Living room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Amber moved ahead from the closed door into the living room space towards Hawk with a stern face. He moved to meet her with a worried brow. "Are you okay?" He stopped and stood in front of her nose bridge, admiring her guts and gravel attitude towards handling her personal life, if only she believed in Almighty God and Brother Jesus like Hawk.

She exhaled with a nod and a tight smile to Hawk. "Yes. Thank you for asking."

Belfort moved from the dining room and stopped, standing next to her nose profile. "I believe that we have one more matter to discuss. The last item is the family funeral."

She exhaled. "Davidson is making the arrangements. I'm not involved."

Belfort frowned. "Aren't you going to attend the funerals of your parents?"

"No. I don't believe in heaven or hell. I find the ritual useless and depressing. The bodies were to be cremated as requested by my dad. Davidson wishes for caskets, instead of ashes. I granted his request by giving him a big fat money check for the cost of the funeral."

Belfort frowned. "I think you should attend, Amber."

She exhaled with a stern face. "I do not believe this your concern, Belfort."

Belfort frowned. "Miss Ashmore, what would the people of the Alabama perceive?"

She grinned. "I don't give a hooty tooty about the public image of Alabamians or my dead and gone family members..."

Rob moved ahead and joined the tight huddle, standing next to Hawk with a smile and a nod to Amber. "And, I am relieved, too. We do not have to handle security for Amber at the funeral site. Good choice!" Hawk turned and frowned at the nose profile of Rob.

Belfort extended a hand to Amber and then Rob, shaking each hand with a smile. "Then, the interview has concluded. I leave the squad of the US Marshals in charge of your security. I have a gunman to track down. This is goodbye for the day, Miss Ashmore," he moved ahead and followed the rest of the committee member, leaving her residential home.

Hawk turned and smiled at Rob. "What is the next step, boss man?"

"It is the swimming hole, since it is ninety degrees and sizzling hot outside." Cody scooted around them and turned, running up the staircase to change out of the blue jeans and sports jacket for the pool water.

"Milady," Hawk extended an arm to her for an escort up the staircase to change clothes for some fun outdoors. Amber accepted his arm with a smile.

Then they slowly moved up the staircase with a set of whispers and smiles.

10:03 pm

Swimming pool and patio setting

Hot temperatures with starry night sky

The deputies had enjoyed a day of sun and water while protecting Amber from the mysterious murderer of her family members.

The sunrise ended a pretty heated day in Alabama and released a full moon for the evening. The weather is a balmy seventy degrees ten at night.

Amber and Hawk rested on top of an individual lounge chairs side by side, staring into the bright stars, listening to the yard wildlife. The frogs croaked. The birds sung. The crickets serenaded the night. The two adults chatted about minor topics as the rest of the deputies settled down for the evening shifts and sleep patterns.

Hawk stared into the bright stars and wiped off a sweaty forehead from the heated humidity. "The air is still heated and hot."

She stared at the bright stars too. "I like hot weather. I feel warm and toasty." Amber rolled to the side to see his nose profile.

He stared at the stars. "I sweat like a pig and get thirsty a lot."

"There is an assortment of cold beverages in the kitchen."

"The view of the bright stars is lovely at night."

She giggled with a smile at his nose profile. "Lovely? That's a strange word for a guy."

He turned and winked at her. "Lovely is great word for a guy. Like you're lovely..."

"Thanks." Amber giggled with a smile at the cute handsome male.

"Girls are lovely. Female cows are lovely. Baby kittens are lovely."

"Baby kittens are cute and precious."

He turned and scanned the manicured lawn with a puzzled brow and then her face. "I don't see any animals. Do you like pets?"

"I have cared for dogs, cats, puppies, and kittens. Amanda gave me her puppy, when she turned big and clumsy. I took her to training school for dogs. I carried her into the hospital for terminal children to pet and play with."

"That's so nice."

"One of the families really enjoyed Marble."

"You named the dog, Marble."

"Amanda did. It stuck and the dog was registered. Marble and the child really loved each other. I gave the family the dog as a pet and paid for the vet bills and pet food for the rest of the life of the dog."

"Is Marble and the child happy?"

"I don't know."

He frowned. "Are you going to find out?"

"I don't want to know. It's too difficult to see the family and their sadness. The child wasn't very healthy. He might not have lived passed from this world during the summertime. I enjoy helping out, when I can."

"You help people all the time it sounds like."

"I give back to the community." Amber exhaled. "That's such a cliché. I'm embarrassed to say it. At the same time, it sums of my feelings."

"...and your kindness..."

"Are you going to get another pet?"

"I, maybe..."

"Amber, you are a very nice person. You are really amazing to me. You give without questioning why or how. You show so much compassion and strength for a young woman."

"Thank you. Your words are really sweet and smoothing."

"I wanted to ask you something."

"What, Hawk?"

"I was wondering."

"What is it, Hawk?"

"Well, I was thinking."

"What were you thinking, Hawk?"

"I hope..."

Cody slammed into the lounge chair, almost knocking Hawk out of the furniture. Hawk grabbed each side of the chair with a sour frown and a yell. "Cody?"

Cody dropped down with a snicker and crawled forward on both kneecaps between Hawk and Amber with a smile. "A US deputy marshal carries a semi-automatic weapon along with a backup hand gun. I got a twelve-gauge shotgun in my truck. Do you wanna see my shotgun, Amber?"

The door opened in silence. Tate exited the house and moved head, stopping and stood over the dirty blonde colored hair roots of the young teen with a stern face. "Cody?"

"What?" Cody smiled at Amber.

"Come inside for your nap, boy." Tate sneered.

Cody laughed. "He's joking. The pickup truck holds all the deputy equipment, consisting of vests, shotguns, shields, batting rams, assault rifles..."

Tate exhaled. "Cody?"

Cody smiled at Amber. She could not see the face of Tate, since it was darkness over the patio and yard. He nodded with a grin. "You must possess a bachelor degree and work experience of three or more years at a local or state police department to be a..."

Tate growled. "Cody, it is time for your bath, boy."

"Shut up, Tate! Also, you must pass a written test, an oral interview, a background investigation, a medical exam, a drug test, and a fitness test in total tests, before you can be selected as a US deputy marshal, so we can guard prisoners, some pretty prisoners, too."

Tate growled. "Cody, it is time for your supper, son," then he reached down and grabbing each collar bone, jerking the teen upright from the patio with a snarl.

Cody lifted upright into the air with a yell. "Shut it! Ugh!"

Tate chuckled. "Excuse him, Miss Amber! It is time for your bath, your supper and then your nap, little boy," he pulled Cody by the neck muscles into the house as Hawk and Amber chuckled.

Amber smiled. "Were you going to ask me something, Hawk?"

Hawk grinned with a nod. "The crew wants a plasma television." She sat upright and tumbled off the lounge chair. He reached out and caught her body before she hit the patio bricks, pulling amber into his chest, sharing the chair. She giggled with a smile. He chuckled. "Whoa, little lady, these cheap chairs are like riding on top of a roller coaster."

She smiled, "I guess."

He smiled. "I didn't mean to surprise you. You are so stable and steady, when it comes to the unexpected."

"I guess."

"The crew has to be here to protect you and all that, so we thought a television plasma screen would be a nice consolation prize for our hard work."

She exhaled with a smile. "Alright, you can have a television plasma screen. I didn't know the models, very well."

"Cody does. He can get it and set it up and all that."

She frowned. "Don't you need the television digital service or a satellite to operate the plasma monitor?"

"See? You know more than you realize. Yes. The television plasma needs a source of channels to work properly with one telephone call to the digital television service company which are paying for now."

"O."

"That'll work just great."

"And I'll give Cody cash. Is that okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah, cash is great. He can get the television plasma and set up the cabling and other stuff. You're a nice eye witness, Amber."

She turned and frowned at the moon. "Thanks, Hawk. I really appreciate the compliment."

He hugged her with a smile and a whisper. "Can I ask you something else?"

She turned and smiled into his face. "What other electronic gadget do you require for the television plasma?"

"I don't require any more material values. I'm going to church tomorrow..."

"No."

"Why aren't you a believer in Almighty God and Brother Jesus Christ?" She turned and stared at the swimming pool. He exhaled. "Amber, I really would like to know."

"That is a personal request, not a material one..."

He nodded. "This is my point of starting the conversation with you, Amber. You're the epitome of a Christian, Amber. You give with your heart and your money in ways some prosperous people don't. You supported your family members in crisis and beyond. I don't know many people who would tolerate greedy behavior and wanton desires for two years without rudely halting the process."

She stared at the swimming pool. "Epitome, that is a person who is representative of the perfect example. That is not me, Hawk."

He smiled. "What is you, Amber? You helped your family out of love or out of pity."

"I helped with a little of both. You only live once in life. I have the means to help people in bad situation to live their life in a better way. I'm supposed to do that."

"Amber, that is a Christian faith, the life line of the Christian faith. So, your behavior is so opposite of an atheist..."

She stared at the swimming pool. "Atheism is one that denies or disbelieves in the existence of God or a super being which was first found in the year 1566 in England..."

"You read a lot of historical books."

"I find that I have lots of time on my hands. My family wasn't a priority for a long time. I just seemed to think outside the box or outside the political circle. My dad loved the politics and atmosphere with my mom, who dragged around the three daughters. We are the three pretty golden trophies that get him elected. My dad started as mayor of Ironside."

"So, this is your roots. This is home."

"I guess. I went to the Ironside schools while my dad pursed his political career. He received monies from his mother, my Grandmother Ashmore. She was the wealthy benefactor in the family. She loved her two sons to the point of spoiling them. Davidson and Wharton were lucky that she was a good mother and provided for them from birth to death."

"I'm not a psychiatrist. But you might need to talk to Tate. He got a psychology degree..."

"I'm fine. I like talking to you better than him."

"I'm a great listener. Keep talking."

"Wharton was elected as a city councilman at the age of eighteen with the financial assistance of his mom, of course. She didn't have political aspirations but loved her son. He was the youngest elected mayor at the age of twenty-one years old, after graduating Burn U, serving for four years and then another term of four years."

"What was his platform?"

"His platform was a scandal-free politician."

"Ah. The bankruptcy would have tainted that image."

"Good point. In the world of adultery and corruption, bad money handling would rank number three. The House of Representatives of the Alabama Congress, he was twenty-nine years old and represented our district for three terms of four years. Then my dad got elected into the Alabama State Senate with the other twenty-four senators for one term. He was fifty years old. He held the US senator seat for two and half terms or five years, until becoming the governor of the Alabama."

"You're good in math."

She frowned. "Is this my group therapy?"

"I like to think of it as your private therapy. When your dad was the US senator, did you live in Washington DC or here in Bama?"

"I have always lived in Ironside since I was raised into a teenager by my uncle Davidson."

"Ah. The congressman is rude. And your disrespect towards the ill-bred man is apparent now."

"I guess so. I resented him telling me what to do while my parents were traveling around the state for people votes or political parties."

"You were the good little girl and stayed home and studied your books, not the notorious cliff notes summaries."

She giggled. "You're good."

He smiled. "You are so predictable, Amber."

"Am I?"

"Yes, you are very predictable."

"Is that good?"

"That's great in my book."

"What else is great in your book? Tell me about your background?"

"Later, I promise. Did your uncle Davidson became Daddy dearest?"

"He was okay. He was strict with older pairs of sisters like Amy and Amanda. When Amanda turned eighteen, she got to escape into the real world with her inheritance. The money gave her freedom to do anything she wanted. I saw that. And then, she was followed by Amy, another year later. I felt back then that I was stuck at home for the long haul. With my dad continued to climb the political ladder, Davidson didn't need a third daughter, who was running amuck under the cherry trees."

"You were the good one."

"I was the last of the silver prize trophies. I was always on an airplane going something to meet my parents at some political function, event, or party. I grew tired to the fake people and the fake causes. I wanted to stay home and read my books, watch the television screen, and have a gang of friends."

"I'm sorry, Amber."

"Don't be. It's not your life that was shuffled back and forth. I listened to the kids in divorce talk about how rough it was being carted to and from one parent to another. I had both my parents. They just didn't live in the city of my birth, but somewhere in the state of Alabama."

"When you turned eighteen, you could've run away like Amanda and Amy?"

She exhaled. "I guess that I could have ran away to a college dormitory room or rented an apartment. But I stayed in the house that my dad had abandoned, when he won US Senator seat, caring for the animals, looking after the family heirlooms possessions. I started college, studying and playing the stock market."

"Was the stock market your only friend?"

"The stock market was like a fugitive. It was up, down, side to side. You didn't know what you would find the next day, a good stock or a bad stock," she laughed. "Yes, it was a friend, sorta."

"What about social flesh and blood friends?"

"Amanda and Amy had those. They came around the house for free food and to swim when it was hot, to hang out and watch television at night for fun. I wasn't impressed. I ended up in my room studying the stock market as they invaded the living room. That all stopped when Davidson dropped by one night, shockingly unexpectedly. I was happy for once to see his sour puss facial expression," she giggled. "Amanda and Amy were mad. They left and never returned back into their father's house, except for the special occasions."

"You left out a special occasion."

She frowned. "I didn't think so. There was school, college, the Washington DC townhouse, the Ironside house, the Davidson home, Thanksgiving holiday, Easter church, Christmas holiday, Fourth of July fireworks, which is very special day for America. Which one did I miss?"

"You missed the church preaching and socializing with all the church friends."

"O."

"O. What does that mean?"

"I did not go to church."

"During Sunday morning for preaching service..."

"No."

He smiled. "How about attending the church's singing choir or a delicious plate at the church supper dinner or a volunteer to watch some of the bratty kids?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"No one took me."

"Why not, Amber?"

"As a little girl, my dad traveled on Sunday to his destination for Monday morning. Sunday was hard when my dad left to go someplace, since I couldn't go to the city or didn't want to go to the city. I didn't see my parents for hours, sometimes, not until past midnight for a simple hug and a kiss. The evenings were long. On Sundays, I was so depressed and upset that I stayed in my room reading, or studying, or crying, or thinking."

"Did you pray?"

"Did I pray to what? A super being lives in outer space, where it is cold and dark."

"Did you pray to Almighty God or Brother Jesus Christ for comfort?"

"No."

"Were you not taught the little kid pray which prays like this? I lay me down to sleep..."

"No."

"Did you sing little kid Bible songs which sings like this? Jesus loves me..."

"No."

He exhaled. "Golly gee, molly! You were so deprived as little girl. I can teach you some prayers and songs."

She frowned. "Why, Hawk?"

"Because, the words and lyrics are comforting in a time of need from pain and suffering..."

"I'm not suffering."

"You lost your entire biological family, Amber. I don't understand how you are dealing with this, without going crazy."

"My family is..."

"Is what?"

"My childhood was different from the norm."

"How was it different you had a mom and dad and sister?"

"I...it was duty, not love that I received from my family members. It was a duty to be good; a duty to act nice, a duty to give to the community like my dad had taught me over the years."

"Amber, wow! Your dad instilled some goods rules but for all the wrong reasons. I can't believe you don't go to church. Have you ever been baptized?"

"No."

"Lookie. Tomorrow is Sunday. We can go my church in Blountsville which is close to here. You'll like the sings, the preachers, the little kids..."

"I am the key eye witness. You are the protection thing to me. That's why you're here."

He nodded with a grin. "I will get Rob's permission. He goes to church, too. He will say, yeah."

"I think you should..."

"I should what?"

"You should ask me, if I want to go to church, Hawk."

Hawk gasped. "I'm so sorry, Amber. You're absolutely right. What you like to go to church with me?"

"No," she pulled away from his heated hug and stood upright from the lounge chair, spinning around towards the closed door of the house with a stern face.

The lounge chair tumbled side to side from Amber's movement as Hawk steadied the sides of the chair with a body back into balance and then stood upright with a puzzled brow, spinning around to see the back spine of Amber. She entered the house and slammed the patio door with a loud bang. He whispered with a smile, "I didn't use the right word choice but that's okay. There is always tomorrow and the next day and the next," he squatted down and retrieved both pairs of shoes, his and her, standing upright with a smile and a whisper, slowly advancing towards the closed door of the house. "She does not understand the relationship of Almighty God, Brother Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit, because she had not been taught to love and honor Him. I have been, thou. We are both lucky. I am here to protect her as the key eyewitness for the US Federal government and Almighty God," he stopped and reached out, touching the door knob.

The door opened.

Hawk entered the cool air conditioned house with a smile for sleep and his turn as the watch dog over Amber Ashmore.
Monday May 3rd

City of Hooverville within the US State of Alabama

(Eight miles, northeast, from Ironside)

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

02:03 pm

Apartment building location

Living room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

The door opened in silence.

The motorcycle black leather clad male entered inside the unlocked apartment without a fist knock, since he was expected. He stopped and stood in front of the chair inside the small and cramped living room with a smile at her. "We have a problem."

The body was tall and slender female with a head of short black hair, a pair of green eyes, and a tone of pale skin, sitting inside the oversized chair, staring at him with a laugh and a grin. "This ain't no television commercial for a Hollywood movie film, dude. How many times does that catch phrase translate into trouble?"

"I guess the noun problem gave you a hint. Huh, Sheba or Shelby? I never can remember which one is your fake name," he laughed.

"Unlucky for me! You're bald, since it is Sheba," she laughed.

He reached up and rubbed the bald skull with a wink, "I am at that."

"I was referring to the pronoun, we." She winked.

He extended the envelope to her with a smile. "There wasn't a large monetary paper check on your boy like he told...we," chuckling.

Sheba accepted the envelope with a gasp and ripped open the paper, searching an empty pocket. "Did you check all his pockets?"

He nodded. "He was the one that was sporting a tux at the time with all pocket empty but one."

"That girl lied to him," she growled.

"The girl's dead. She can't lie anymore, if that is a consolation prize for your effort," he chuckled.

She torn the envelope into two pieces and flamed it with the cigarette lighter, watching it burn. "Actually, the girl's alive and breathing."

He sneered. "I killed all the females posing for wedding pictures at the church."

"She was missing which is lucky for the both of us," Sheba winked.

He growled. "I kill her."

She shook her short curls with a smile. "I would rather that you wound her for the next round. She does have the check," she tossed the newspaper towards him.

He caught it and studied the newspaper article with a stern face. "The murdered Ashmore family included the newly elected Governor Wharton. The entire editorial talked about the Ashmore family and their social and cultural background. The front page shows a smiling picture of the young adult named Amber Ashmore, the only surviving member of the massacre. She's pretty. Can I keep her?"

She frowned. "You're sick, Samson."

He rattled the newspaper with a smile. "She's pretty and probably rich based on your sketchy details of this bombed job."

She sneered. "I don't want the rich girl. I want the rich check. She must've kept both of these checks for herself for some reason. I don't get it." Sheba stared with a stern face at the far wall.

He back stepped and sat down inside the oversized chair, tapping the newspaper on a kneecap, staring with a smile at her. "Tell me the story, Sheba? Why is she involved with at all? I understand that Amber Ashmore doesn't run around with her biological family members, before their unexpected timely deaths."

She pointed to the open kitchen space with a smile. "Take off your jacket, grab a beer, and pull a chair, Samson. Let me tell my tale! You're not going to believe me."

Samson stood upright and ripped off the black leather jacket, resting it on the edge of the chair, turning and moved ahead into the small open kitchen space towards the refrigerator. He stopped and opened the door, reaching inside for a beer, screwing the lid off and gulped a big swallow. He spun around and kicked the door shut with a smile, moving back and sat back down into the chair on the opposite side of Sheba with a smile. "Begin, please!"

She smiled. "Foster Gordon is a stock broker, who's broke."

He laughed. "Foster enjoyed the races of ponies and doggies too much on the sly."

"No. He was not a very good investor. He was so-so. He had better days earlier in his career. Stocks are only part of the game for investors. Getting lots of diverse investors gets you more commissions and a bigger pot of the monies. Foster didn't have many clients, only a hand full."

"She was his client..."

"No."

"Says here inside the newspaper, she was his future sister-in-law."

"Bingo. Foster was my supervisor..."

"You were going to get promoted."

"Investment companies only promote based on money, not merit."

"Sorry."

"It is for me and you, both. Foster was my boss. As my boss, he liked to delegate domestic tasks to his employees, since he didn't have time to bother with the tasks. This particular day, I had been summoned by the boss for another one of his boring tasks. I patiently waited outside his office..."

"Professional etiquette, I'm impressed, Sheba."

"I learned it the hard way. Anyways, I stood outside in the hallway like an idiot while my boss yelped on the phone like a teenager with raging hormones to his girlfriend, who was actually his fiancé."

"Ease dropping, while you wait."

"He called me from my desk. Let me defend myself here. Anyways, I was standing there. His door is wide open. I'm parked at the wooden frame between the door and the wall. I could hear the entire and complete conversation. Foster repeated the words: five million dollars. I perked up. Did he fall over a new client with big bucks?"

He sipped and swallowed the beer with a grin and a nod, "A prize possession..."

She smirked. "In the investment company, it is the goose that landed the golden egg and a five million dollar check, the difference between buying a compact cheap-ass car versus an expensive sports car. Anyways, Foster catch me a live one. I continued to listen, hoping to hear a name or two, so I could call and chat, dropping Foster's name as a reference. Foster became so engrossed into the conversation that he was repeating all the facts back to his girlfriend named Amy. First, they were getting married in two weeks. Second, Amanda's birthday was the next day with a big surprise birthday bash. Third, Daddy was giving both Amy and Amanda gifts made of a single check of five million dollars each for presents."

"Five million dollar checks mean two checks for two kids or ten million dollars. Didn't know the governor of Alabama was that rich?"

"Believe me! I was standing there thinking the same mental thought, when Foster answered the questions and provided the solution to my monetary problems. He told Amy to get the checks as two cashier's checks."

He sipped and swallowed the beer with a smile. "Cashier's check! Don't thieves use them?"

"No, Samson! A cashier's check is a bank check..."

"Bank is not a good word when you're stealing cash..."

"It is different from the check that you write from a personal bank account. A cashier's check is accepted for almost ninety-nine point ninety-nine percent transactions, because it provides a guarantee of payment to the receiver of the check which would be...we," she smiled. "A cashier's cash is unique in that the funds are not drawn out from your personal bank account. You withdraw funds from your personal account first and then pay the funds to the bank to create a cashier's check, which is not really traceable. The money funds are drawn on the bank, not your personal account."

"We still can get caught."

"Foster told his bride to get the five million dollar in a cashier's check. He was thinking the same thing. Dump the money down in an offshore account and let the Feds finds him, keeping all the cash, without paying income taxes to Uncle Sam."

"We can do the same thing."

"I have my special contacts on standby in the Cayman."

He sneered. "Cayman Islands are far, far away from me or we here in Bama."

"The Cayman Islands are a British overseas territory which is located in the western Caribbean Sea. The land comprises the three islands of Grand Cayman, Cayman Brac, and Little Cayman..."

He chuckled. "I am hearing some dang original names for the Cayman isles down there."

She rolled both eyeballs and stared back at him with a stern face. "Whatever. You can open a bank account in the Cayman National Corporation, a financial service for local and international clients for thirty years with the touch of a finger by the internet without leaving your house or your motorcycle or your apartment," she smiled. "The bank offers asset protection on all offshore bank accounts, private Swiss bank accounts, and a wealth management plan for your big bundle of monies. That girl has both the cashier's checks that we want. She's probably scared, since the US Marshal Deputies are protecting her. She doesn't even know who killed her family. The good part is no one knows why. That's the best mystery of all. The stupid television media, newspapers, reports, and trash tabloids are having a field day, guessing and printing that a bizarre zealot occult organization that fucked up the kidnapping foiled plot and then committed the massive murders into a holy church. It's almost to be much fun to stop the silly speculation, running wild boars through the precious potato patch during a famine."

He sipped and swallowed the beer with a smirk. "You're a former farm girl, Sheba."

She exhaled. "From my former past, a very long time ago," she pointed at the newspaper with a nod and a stern face. "That girl is involved in giving and moving the ten million. She's rich, too. I had to do some searching, chatting among my peers, especially at the bank..."

He shook his bald skull with a stern face. "That was not smart, Sheba. Someone is going to report you to someone else, who going to investigate..."

She shook her curls with a smile. "No. After the killing fields inside the church, every person is absolutely curious about the who, why, and what happened to the governor's first family. My telephone calls were gossip more than anything else. I finally reached a guy, who came from my company, long time out. He's one of the top brokers for the Third National Alabama Bank investment division. He knows that girl. She has her trust fund at the bank. She's worth seventy-four million dollars."

He whistled with a nod. "Seventy-four million dollars, shouldn't we ask for more money?"

She frowned. "Don't get greedy, Samson. We don't need more than ten million split in half while living on a beautiful Caribbean island for the rest of my days. It's cheap down there. Five million goes a long, long way, babe. How does that sound? Call Gus!"

He burped with a smile. "Drunk and disorderly Gus..."

"That same drunk and disorderly Gus, I have a job for him. Since, he never completes his task as a total idiot which fits into my perfect plan."

He exhaled. "I can see through your perfect plan, Sheba. Amber Ashmore is scared and confused about her family, her pretty face, and her life. You plan to add more stress and distress by having Gus fire at the massive Ashmore funeral. Are you a mad woman? Yeah! You are a mad woman," he stood upright and shook his bald skull. "I want..."

She pointed down at the chair with a grin. "Sit, please. Hear me out. The funeral is Tuesday afternoon at the massive grave site for the deceased Ashmore folks. Amber will be there, sitting beside her uncle, a congressman in the Alabama government. She is the only one left within the Ashmore family. The television reporters, photographers, and camera crew will be filming and recording on her. Gus will be there with his gun..."

"If he kills her, we don't get the money."

"Has Gus every performed his duty with accuracy or competence for me? For you? For anyone?" Sheba mouth spat out the salvia with a laugh over the floor with a smile. "No! He is the decoy that the US Marshals are looking, tracking, and can find," she chuckled. "Scout out a site for Gus somewhere in the outline of the woodland forest trees, where his drunker self can't be seen by the office of US Marshal deputies. Set him up with a gun, any weapon with do. I'm not a weapons expert. Gus only has to shoot the weapon into the ground, making a big booming sound, not hit her either, since we both want the ten million dollars."

He gasped. "What? Don't hit her with the bullet? I was thinking a nice arm wound would change her mind..."

She frowned. "You're on the right track here with me, Samson. You see that's the scary part that I was referencing. I want to scare Amber Ashmore into handing over the two checks of ten million dollars to us without showing a violent encounter or another death."

"Wait a minute. Your theory is based on Amber, not telling the US Marshals about the ten million dollar in two cashier's checks. Why would she hide that data from them?"

She shook her curls with a smile. "To honor her dead family, her dead father was governor. If it was leaked he was being blackmailed or harassed, then the name Ashmore would be mud for the rest of her life. Even here in the good old South we respect family names, dead and alive," chuckling.

He frowned. "Some families don't care about that their named reputations."

She smiled. "Some old southern families like Amber will and do. She was paying for all her family's home expenses for the past two years from her personal bank account. The governor was broke with no money inside his personal bank account. Some type of poor investment that Foster engineered that want sour and south. You see standing inside the wall corner, all these months outside his private office door is good for being bad for we," she winked at him.

He sipped and swallowed the beer with a smile. "You never acted on that VIP information, Sheba. Doesn't sound like you?"

"I didn't realize how rich Amber Ashmore was. I would've done something earlier."

"Gus just shoots his gun. Is there any direction desired, excluding Amber?"

"Near the casket would be good, but we can't count on him, getting anything right."

"Gus will be arrested quicker than a rattlesnake strike and then hauled in for questioning by the big time FBI boys and girls, and then..."

"Gus will cry like a baby. He's always been no good at any job as an alcoholic."

He sneered. "Gus is going to remember me."

She flipped a hand. "O, please! On what day? Would that been ground hog's day in February of 1999? Gus can't remember his name half the time or his address most of the time. That's why he sleeps at the corner grocery store on the long wooden bench and carries a weapon with him."

He frowned. "Gus is loaded."

She nodded. "Every day, he shows me the hand gun as I walk to work. It scared the hairs off my legs. He was joshing and joking with me of course for fun. But yeah, Gus is loaded both mentally and physically."

He looked down with a stern face to see the floor and then back to her. "Gus really needs to be hospitalized for mental illness."

She smiled. "We're doing the world or at least the city of Birmingham a great big favor, removing a dangerous and harmful creature from the busy city streets."

He whispered. "I guess."

She smiled. "Draw him into the forest with many pints of whiskey bottles, a torn ratty blanket, and leave a couple of his specific type of hand guns from his little shack. It's across the corner grocery store, so set him up in there, tonight. He sleeps during the evening and awakes, during working hours for fun to torment of the working class," she laughed. "Then, Gus is permanently gone from the wooden bench, while replacing we," she winked. "And I wanna see you, not as the motorcycle hottie with the bald head. That's the description printed inside the newspaper from the US Marshals. Ditch the bike..."

"It's stolen."

"Good! Get a tan, use the spray-on stuff, get some fake eye glasses and grow some hair, not a wig. That's too swiftly sudden of a change within your neighbors and co-workers' eyeballs. Let your facial hair grow out stubby and rough looking."

"How are you going to get the two checks of ten million dollars?"

She smiled. "The beautiful part, I'm going to call her on the phone, pretending to be the bank manager and ask her kindly to mail the two five million checks back to me."

He hooted and shook his bald skull. "You are one crazy loco female. She'll never do it."

She pointed to the window with a nod. "First, her family is killed in a wild shooting spree. Her life is chaos. Second, her life is threatened at a very public place, the grave site. O. I think Miss Amber will get the subtle message softly bombarded into her brain cells. She'll send me the checks," she laughed with him.
Tuesday May 4th

Warm temperatures with parted clouds and bright sunshine

09:09 am

Home location Amber Ashmore

Kitchen interior setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Mink rushed into the kitchen with a smile and stopped, standing in front of the breakfast table to see each face. "We found a lead. The cashier at the Dee Dee's Hamburgers fast food restaurant down the street recognized the motorcycle dude, thought he was cute. He was inside drinking a soda near the beverage stand, before loading back onto his cycle."

Hawk looked up and closed both eyelids to the ceiling. "Thank you, Almighty God."

Amber turned with a sour frown to scan each faces around the breakfast table. "You sound and look very relieved."

Rob nodded. "Up until this lead, no one really believed your version of the story, Miss Ashmore."

Amber gasped. "You assumed it was a fairy tale."

Tate nodded with a stern face. "You must admit. Your entrance yesterday was a little abnormal. Think of the fairy story of Cinderella. She married the rich prince, becoming a princess and then by the kindness of heart, she took care of her evil step-sisters and step-mother. You fit that picture perfectly then. After your interview in a criminal investigation, you have a beef with your entire biological family. Next thing, they are all dead, especially the dead ones, who were sucking you dry of your monies."

Cody chuckled. "Vampires bats suck your blood dry, not...."

Mink reached out and slapped the collar bone of Cody. "Hush, Cody."

Amber nodded. "I guess it does look bad. I described the event, without emotion."

Tate chuckled. "Too much hostile emotion with the vague description of a faceless gunman with two guns, Hollywood can't write that great storyline."

Amber frowned. "I'm flattered that my fairy tale was original. Now, there's proof of a faceless motorcycle dude."

Mink smiled. "The FBI agency is interviewing people that are located at all the vendor businesses, going up and down the city street of the church now and around Dee Dee's Hamburgers. This means, he is still alive and around those parts or he lives somewhere around here."

Amber shook her curls. "I don't think so. I grew up in this neighborhood as a child. I would remember someone like him riding a motorcycle dressed in leather. No proper parent would allow their children or their teenage near a man like that without calling the mayor the police captain for an investigation."

"I disagree, Amber. You spent your teenager years in Mountain Stream a lot changes when you're older like your immediate perception of life. Now, this man is IDed with the locals. He might come looking for you."

Hawk frowned. "I don't see how. And I don't see the why. The FBI has done an exhaustive search on Foster's and Oscar's lives, since birth. They were descent guys, not counting the laziness. Taking money to pay for their fun, without working for it, that's glutton or sloth..."

Cody chewed. "Glutton is eating too much."

Hawk smiled. "No. Gluttony is a desire to consume more than that which one requires like money. Money is the root of all evil. Gluttony is defined for excessive acting and drinking. The seven deadly sins are wrath, greed, sloth, pride, lust, envy, and gluttony. Sloth is wasting time, due to lack of use, concerning a person, place, thing, skill, or ideal to support your existence. Both Oscar and Foster was a pair of sluggard lazy males..."

"Agreed." Rob turned and stared at Hawk. "We are moving on to the business at hand, protecting Amber and catching the bad guy. The FBI interviews have been completed for the nice guys, the nice girls, and the nice governmental officials, including the church leaders, any political opponents of Governor Ashmore, corporate heads, and most of the public at large. There had been no death threats, death notes, death emails, and death phone calls. There had been no claims of acknowledgment of any a-political or b-political organizations. I find this all normal."

Hawk frowned. "I find this all odd. We're back at square one. Amber, do you have an opinion?"

Amber chewed and swallowed the food with a stern face. "No."

Tate smiled. "How are you feeling?"

Amber frowned. "Stupid."

Cody chewed and swallowed the food with a smile "Don't be sad. Be sadder, saddee, saddest..."

Mink reached over with a sour frown and slapped Cody on the bicep. "Hush, Cody."

01:04 pm

House location, Pilkerton Family

(Across the lawn from Amber)

Private bedroom window setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

He heard the mobile telephone ring and then the connection with a smile into the speaker. "Sheba."

He paused and listened to Sheba on the other end of the mobile telephone connection.

"Glad to hear my voice? Did you like your new mobile telephone with the cool expensive earphones? I stole it for my fun last night and then snuck into your apartment for a quick Santa Clause delivery. Nothing stomps a police investigation quicker than some stolen expensive merchandise from a neighbor on the other side of Ironside," the bald male laughed. "And I hoped you got Foster's top management position by now. I know you can't talk being part of the three thousand plus crying and sobbing folks, attending the Ashmore funerals. I'll here at the house on Groovy Street, calling on the landline..."

Pause.

"Grossy Street, that is correct. I like my pronunciation better, dear. The Pilkertons were very nice and pleasant to me, allowing me to occupy one of the bedrooms for my spying gig, after I loaded their bodies into the food freezer. Ya gotta love southern people and the big deep wide food freezers for packaged meats and homemade ice cream," he sniggered. "Since, you can't even grunt loud enough for me to hear you, I will keep talking. I didn't call for being social either. I located at the street corner view of the house, right behind Amber's backyard. The US Marshals are outside on the patio deck, cooking hotdogs. It looks like a sweet sixteen party. It's very strange to me, since I got the television plasma plugged in and watching the live burial, also. I can see Davidson, sitting next to her," he stared out the window with a pair of binoculars.

Pause.

He turned and stared at the television screen with a puzzled brow. "I am tattle-tailing to you. This is indeed odd stuff. I can't see you on the tube. You must be in the very, very back of the crowd for a fast escape. It's a hot day around ninety-two degrees. Are you sweating bullets or water?" He turned and stared at the house with a smile. "I am watching Amber's house. The deputies are moving in and out of the house," he gasped. "She's here. Amber is here at her house," he turned and stared at the television screen, narrowing his eyelids at the other Amber Ashmore on the screen.

The other Amber Ashmore wore a black colored floppy hat that hid a face, except for a long red hair over the black colored jacket.

The bald man exhaled with confusion and turned, staring out the window at the rear outside patio of Amber's house. "Wait a minute! Amber is here, but I can see her plain as day there at the funeral too. She is actually flirting using her hands, fingers, and hair with one of the FBI agents. This is really weird, Sheba. That is her, the long auburn hair, the long tanned legs, the slender body," he turned and stared at the television screen with a puzzled brow. "That girl is a fake, probably to lure our gunman out into the open. You're brilliant, Sheba. I give you all the credit, babe. Gus will shoot the bullet and then it'll fun to watch the panic from both home fronts," he laughed and stared at the patio. "Hey! The deputy doggies here just hurried into the house. I guess they wanna see the fireworks too. Gotta go, honey! Call me when you got at a safe distance."

01:12 pm

Home location Amber Ashmore

Living room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

"Guys!" Rob stood inside the open archway with a stern face. Cody stood over the grill and cooked the food. "Gallop in here right now. Hurry, hurry up," he swung around and moved back into the cool air conditioned living room.

Cody, Tate, and Hawk swept back inside the house and sat inside assorted living room pieces with Rob, Mink, and Amber, watching the program transmission on the new big plasma television, blaring with loud noise.

Amber frowned. "This the funeral services for my family."

Tate frowned at plasma screen. "I thought that the bodies were going to be cremated per the Last Will and Testimony."

Amber exhaled. "Davidson wanted caskets, not ashes per his request. I gave him a check for all the coffins and flowers."

Cody stood upright and pointed at the plasma. "What's that?"

Tate stood upright ant pointed at the plasma. "Who is that?"

Hawk studied the plasma and then Amber, who sat beside him on the sofa. He turned and looked at the screen and then Amber for a second time, noting her pair of long tanned legs and her long auburn hair. He turned and studied the female, who sat in the chair next to Davidson at the funeral with a pair of long tanned legs and a set of long auburn hair underneath a floppy hat also. "Her face is hidden underneath her black hat. Amber?" Hawk stood upright and pointed to the television plasma. "Stand up, Amber!" Amber stood upright from the sofa in silence. Hawk turned and studied the features of Amber with a puzzled brow. "I see a pair of long tanned legs coming from underneath her dress and a strand of long auburn hair coming from underneath her hat like Amber Ashmore. But Amber is standing right here with us."

Tate turned and frowned to Rob. "What's Davidson doing at the funeral?"

Rob stood upright and shook a skull, moving ahead and stopped, standing in front of the telephone landline on top of the bar counter. He lifted the receiver and dialed the familiar telephone number, waiting for the connection with a smile. "Belfort."

He paused and listened to Belfort on the other end of the telephone connection.

He turned and smiled at the television plasma. "Yes, we are all viewing the Ashmore funeral now on the television plasma."

Pause.

"You need to get your boys and girls over there to that girl in the black colored floppy hat with a set of long auburn hair."

Pause.

"That girl is not Amber Ashmore."

Pause.

Rob laughed with a nod. "You've been had, man. The real Amber Ashmore is with us and sitting inside her house under our great deputy protection, not your dupery guarding," smiling.

Pause.

"Yes sir. That fake Amber girl is in danger from someone. And arrest Davidson for something..."

Pause.

Rob laughed with a nod. "No harm is done, Belfort. The girl is pretending to be Amber, which she is not..."

A loud bang echoed out from the television plasma.

Rob gasped. "A gun shot, a single bullet just came from the outer limits of the graveyard, near the woodlands. Get him and her away! Out Rob!" He disconnected from Belfort and slammed the telephone onto the landline, dashing to stand in a row with Tate, Mink, Cody, Hawk, and Amber around the plasma, watching the chaos grow worse.

Cody cut off the audio volume of the television, watching the action in silence.

People run overturning the metal chairs, knocking down all flower stands, huddling around the children from fear and fright. People hit other folks while hustling out of range of the single gunman. The television screen became covered with the uniforms and rifles of the Alabama National Guardsmen, huddling protectively around Congressman Davidson, the fake Amber, the wife of Davidson, and other Ashmore children.

The FBI agents wore a jacket with the words written on a back spine to identify FBI. They run across the graveyard with a gun near a nose profile, searching for the single gunman.

The security team for the governor huddled around the current Governor Holland, blocking his view from the television camera.

The television camera swung to the right and then to the left, following around the scattered groups of FBI agents, who were probing and poking between the trees limbs and the low plant bushes in the direction of the shooting bullet. Then, the agents found the solo male.

The male was hauled upright by an arm out of the shade woodlands and then placed in a sitting pose onto the manicured lawn of the cemetery. The high powered camera lens recorded the live action capture of the gunman, without the audio volume of the television screen.

Rob raised a fist with a smile. "Belfort got him."

Hawk frowned with worry. "I hope so."

Cody turned and frowned at Hawk. "You don't seem certain, Hawk."

Hawk stared at plasma screen. "I want a verbal confession and a matching weapon. He looks old and could be another nut job in the making for fame and fortune. Can we sit in on the interrogation?"

Rob back stepped from the row of standing people with a smile and spun around, moving back to the landline telephone. "Amber does. After they book and print him, we'll all travel down to the FBI security jail cells. The place is located downtown. You'll be safe, Amber. I'm making the arrangements now. The sooner this is done, the sooner we leave Amber's house with the murderer caught and captured."

Hawk leaned over and hugged Amber with a smile. "Everyone will be okay. Then, we can have some fun go fishing and roll skating, maybe have a new adventure or two." She nodded with a smile.

01:37 pm

House location, Pilkerton Family

Private bedroom setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

He stood in front of the glass window, staring at the empty patio of Amber's house, saying with a puzzled brow on the telephone landline. "Sheba, can you talk?"

Pause.

He chuckled. "Ah. You are inside the car, a good safe place for both thunderstorm lightning strikes and stray flying bullets."

Pause.

"It is a 'no go' on your idea, but I got a better one."

Pause.

"Mr. Pilkerton likes his gun collection, a lot consisting of an array of various shotguns, hand pistols with fresh unopened boxes of ammo. Based on the numerous hanging picture frames, inside his man-cave den, he hunts both bucks and does in the deep southern Alabama woodlands."

Pause.

"A 'no go' on your solo thought, too. I don't think you should try calling Amber and requesting the money. It's obvious this was a fake play and the US Marshals won the game, today."

Pause.

"I agree. Amber is scared, but she ain't running. As long as, the deputies have the home field advantage Amber's going nowhere."

Pause.

"Thank you. I'm smart like you. My plan will evacuate all the deputy doggies onto higher ground for us, so to speak. I need you at the Interstate 20 and Interstate 59 junction which is off exit 261, park inside the lumber business parking lot, near the roadway. Get out of the car and watch for three black painted and dark window tinted US Federal Government issued four-door vehicles. You can't miss them, since you watch television like me. The three vehicles will head west on I-20 and then split into three separate pathways at the interchange junction of I-65 and I-20, trying to confuse or defuse us. One will go north on Interstate 65. The second one will go south on Interstate 65. The third one will go west, continuing on I-20. Stand by on the cell! I'm parking my truck on the opposite street corner away from Amber's house, spying on which vehicle she enters. I can pace them from there."

Pause.

"I'm going to mount and tilt the shotgun aiming at the roof tiles of Amber's house with one good noisy blast. Amber will hide under the bed, until she's dragged out by a ponytail and then stuffed inside one of the three governmental vehicles. The deputy doggies will be implementing an emergency plan to run their scared eye witness to the next safe house."

Pause.

"This is country Alabama, not New York City. They won't come into the metro city with all the great open spaces of farmland around the outskirts of Birmingham, hiding out there within the open plain and in plain sight of me..."

Pause.

"I don't know which farm they house their eye witnesses for safekeeping. Once I find the rural hideout, we can get the girl and then the money. And I can rid the world of some rabid deputy doggies. I'll contact you, after I find the farm. Chow!" He dropped the receiver down from a gloved hand onto the telephone with a smile.

01:47 pm

Home location Amber Ashmore

Living room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Rob nodded with a stern face on the telephone landline with the FBI agent.

The others watched the television as the FBI vehicle escorted the gunman towards vehicle which will go to the downtown office for questioning.

Rob said on the phone, covering the receiver with a hand. "Our FBI contact says the male is named Gus Brewster, a homeless, penniless alcoholic..."

Cody hooked up the US Marshal electronic connection into the FBI satellite, following the procession of the FBI vehicles, looking at set of blue colored dots on the television plasma. The electronic connection provided audio processing the gunman arrest and incarnation, not showing his nose profile.

Rob said on the phone, covering the receiver with a hand. "The FBI is grueling and grilling Mr. Gus Brewster. The male does not seem to mentally understand what he had done, why he was in the woods, where he was at, how his gun misfired. Belfort and all the FBI agents are frustrated with the lack of evidence and now the lack of knowledge of the wedding killing spree and a mysterious drunkard, who wandered into the woodlands, right at the time of the funerals. I do..."

A loud sound cracked across the rooftop of Amber's house. Some of the roof tiles exploded with a set of loud booms. Each face dropped down and landed over the tile floor without blood.

Hawk leaned over and landed on top of Amber for protection, drawing out his hand gun above her skull. Amber sobbed with tears of fears.

Rob sat back on both kneecaps and turned, staring out at the windows. There wasn't any broken glass. He ordered. "The single shot hit the roof tile and then exploded. I don't hear any more gun fire. Stay down, Amber!"

Hawk whispered with a stern face into her ear. "Don't move. I'm right here." She shivered from fear.

Mink continued to rest over the floor with a stern face. "Gus isn't the shooter from the church."

Rob leaned over and grabbed the pair of binoculars from his gear pack, surveying the lawns, the trees, and the windows of the houses, which was located behind her house. He gasped. "I see it. There is one open rear window on a house which is at a diagonal corner from us. I don't see a shooter. I don't see a gun. Wait! I see a shadow. Stay put! I'm calling the FBI to investigate that house. Tate, call up the cars for a parade route from Ironside towards our hideout."

Tate turned and crawled into the kitchen for safety, pulling out a mobile telephone, making the telephone call.

Rob said. "Mink, go and get a bag of clothes for Amber. Amber, we're moving you to a safer locate out of Ironside and Birmingham. Hawk, stay and cover Amber until all the vehicles arrive. Cody, follow me into the kitchen and away from the glass windows." Rob turned and grabbed this gear pack, crawling over the tile floor and into the kitchen, standing upright, moving towards the breakfast table. He pulled out the chair and sat down with a sigh of excitement, pulling out the laptop from the pack, lifting the lid, typing on the keyboard with a stern face.

Tate spun around with a stern face and moved ahead, sliding down into a chair in front of the Rob. "The cars are on the way in about ten more minutes."

Cody crawled through the archway and stood upright with a loud whistle, moving ahead and sat down in a chair next to Rob around the breakfast table in silence.

Rob typed with a nod. "Good work, Tate. There will be three cars. There are six of us. Two people go into each car. Mink and me. Cody and Amber. Tate and Hawk." Hawk and Amber crawled over the tile floor and slowly stood upright, moving ahead towards the breakfast table, stopping and staring at the Rob with a stern face in silence.

Tate turned and frowned at Cody. "I don't think Cody should be the escort of Amber. He's only a child."

Rob stopped the key strokes and spun the laptop around for all eyeballs. "We are 5.7 miles from the I-20 and I-65 interchange junction. The expressway goes in four different directions of north, south, west, and east. We come from the east. Therefore, the real shooter will figure that Amber will not be heading back east for any logical reason, while escaping her prison. Mink and me will go south on I-65 into downtown Birmingham. Tate and Hawk will go north on I-65 towards Gardenville. Cody and Amber will continue west down I-20. Then, Cody will car race his black tinted bullet protected vehicle, exiting off number 124 from the I-20, hop onto Highway 78, going south, and then exit off and get back onto the I-20 heading east. The shooter will miss your brilliant car race performance. He is not driving a motorcycle either, probably a sports car or a pickup truck. The shooter will have to travel down three miles, before turning around and getting back onto I-20.

"Tate, you and Hawk go and get off at exit 259 on I-65. You get right back onto the I-65 driving south then veer onto I-20, heading east at the exchange. Cody will fly pass you, so just wait for the shooter to catch up. When he stalls a couple of yards behind your car, you and Hawk exit into downtown Birmingham. Then, you drive along the one-way streets, losing or annoying the bastard. I don't care. Cody should have enough time sailing down I-20 and away from the shooter and towards Amber's house and then Cody goes to the grocery store down the street from her house. I stashed a silver sports car for you and Amber," he slid over the wood surface a pair of car keys with a smile. "Cody will drive to Hawk's farm and hide Amber inside the cottage, our new secret hideaway. The sports car has a locator bot which has been programmed, just start driving towards the cottage. No one knows the correct geographical directions but Hawk and the locator bot. We'll follow Hawk there later tonight, after we take the shooter and his friends for a joy ride around the confusing one-way streets in downtown Birmingham," Rob stood upright from the chair with the other deputies and leaned over, fist-bumping with a nod a chuckle to each co-worker.

The mobile telephone rang with a Christmas song. Tate looked down with a smile to see the new text on his mobile telephone. "The caravan is here."

Mink crawled over the tile with a small bag and stood upright inside the archway with a stern face and a nod. "She's packed."

Rob pointed to Mink with a smile. "Mink's with me. Cody, go with Amber. Ya'll crouch and run into the middle car just like a freaking Hollywood movie. Me and Mink go in the first car with our guns drawn for the dog and pony show..."

"The shooter will kill Amber," Mink frowned with worry.

Rob back stepped from the table and turned, moving towards the archway with a laugh and a nod. "The shooter plans his attack on the road, a convenience car accident, not remembering his youthful days of illegal car racing. We got us a teen-ass racer that likes speed and more speed. Right, Cody?"

Cody back stepped from the table and spun around in a completed circle, lifting both arms into the air with a hoot and a smile, stopping with a wink. "Speed and more speed..."

Rob moved ahead and reached over, slapping the collar bone of Cody with a laugh, "Enough, Cody! Don't get seasick before your grand automobile performance," he smiled and led all the deputies into the living room, exiting the house and into each vehicle for the ride to the new hideout.

10:08 pm

City of Morrison within the US State of Alabama

(28 miles, north, from Irondale)

Warm temperatures with bright stars of nighttime

Hawkins Farms

Cottage location

Living room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

The cottage was square shaped with an even flat porch and a set of two separate windows in-between a single door. Amber continued to stare out the window, sobbing with tears. "I hear the assassin. Go and protect me, Cody!"

"Naw," Cody closed his eyelids and wiggled an ass down into a comfortable pose on top of the lumpy sofa. Amber and Cody were positioned in a set of living room furniture flush against the forward wall which was opposite from the wall with the single door and a set of windows.

Amber was folded in the wall corner inside the ugly loveseat with the blanket over her, staring out with sobs and tears into the darkness. "I hear the assassin. Go and protect me, Cody."

"Naw."

"I hear the assassin. Go and protect me, Cody."

"Fine," Cody exhaled with a puff of annoyance and scooted off the sofa, standing upright to face the front door, moving ahead and stopped, leaning into the metal door, listening to the wildness sounds with a stern face. "Crickets sing with the rear of their hairy legs..."

She continued to stare through the window into the darkness with sobs and tears of fright. "I hear the assassin. He's outside. I hear his footballs of his boots. Go and protect me, Cody. Where's Hawk? Where's Rob? Where's your killing weapon to protect me?"

Cody continued to lean into the metal door with a stern face, hearing the wildlife sounds. "Bull frogs croak a love song to their ladies plus the crickets sing with the rear of their hairy legs..."

She continued to wipe off the tears of fear. "I hear the assassin. Go and protect me, Cody."

"Fuck! You know if the assassin comes inside here, then I can't protect your a..."

"I hear the assassin. Go and protect me, Cody."

Cody stood upright and reached down, slamming open the door. He moved ahead and stood a few inches from the archway as the door slammed into his ass. He parked both boot toes on top of the front porch, closing both eyelids. His eardrums heard the sounds of the wildlife around the surrounding woodland and fields, including crickets, bull frogs, birds, squirrels, owls, cats, dogs, and coyotes. He back stepped into the door as the door slammed into the wall with a loud thud.

He entered backward inside the single room of the cottage, spinning around to face her with a sour frown. Amber continued to fold inside the loveseat with a set of blue jay birds that were flying over the tan fabric of the living room furniture. He exhaled with a huff of frustration. "Coyotes kills does, the female deer girls. A deer squeaks like a baby piglet when viciously eaten. Snakes eat mice in silence, but cows moo. Horses neigh. Dogs bark. Cats meow. Birds chirp and E..I..E..I. Go to bed, Miss Ashmore!" He exhaled with a huff of frustration.

She sneered and stared into the darkness through the front window. "You're a bastard, Deputy Cody."

He moved ahead towards the sofa with a smile and a chuckle. "O! You learned that solo concept in first grade at Ironside elementary school along with the sounds of the farm animals, too. E..I..E..I. Ho, ho, ho. And I win again." Cody slid down with a snigger and dumped down onto the lumpy soft fabric, flinging a body onto the clean fabric on a back spine, closing both eyelids with a smirk.

She gasped with fear and pointed at the window of darkness. "Cody, I see a set of headlights from a car coming towards the cottage through the window."

"Shit!" He scooted upright and drew out the hand gun near a nose profile with a sneer. "Get up and go hide back into the far storage room. I'm slipping out the rear door, sneaking up on the guy. Go hide. Don't worry, Amber. You're safe and secure here with me," he heard. Amber slid off the chair with sobs and ran down the empty hallway on a pair of bare feet, slamming the door shut.

He stood in place and narrowed both eyelids at the shiny set of bright whitish colored car lights and then car lights disappeared from his eye view. He sweated with a set of swear words and spun around, dashing ahead down an empty semi-dark hallway, cutting the eyeballs side to side, advancing towards a rear door. He passed a clean kitchen on the right, a den room on the right, a bathroom room on the right, and then a closed door, stopping in front of the metal. He reached and almost touched the door knob, recalling another room on the right, since the tiny cottage possessed one bedroom, one bathroom, and one bitch. He exhaled with a huff of worry and touched, rattling the door knob. Locked.

The locked rear door led out into the back yard of the small cottage.

A few hours ago, both Amber and Cody had arrived at dusk, not getting a good eye search of the surrounding crop and pasture fields, but Hawk had stressed that the farm cottage was safe with the new hideout.

"Shit!" Cody whispered with worry and turned, dashing around the circular hallway, seeing no other door knobs, door archways, or another rear back door exits and arrived back inside the rectangular living room that was painted in beige tone. He stopped and scratched the facial scruff, looking down with a worried brow at the empty hallway, "Double shit here! The hallway is a rounded square like a maze to nowhere," he swung around to face the single front door which was the only entrance and exit point of the cottage with a confused brow and a whisper. "Triple crap here! The frontal attack it is, boy."

Cody looked down and slapped the lever, double-checking the magazine, locking it back in place of the hand gun, lifting the weapon near a sneer, reaching out and grabbed the door knob. He eased the door open and cautiously scanned the front lawn without a flood light, feeling nervous but calmly found no visual sign of heated set of car headlights or sounds of a moving vehicle. He side stepped from the side of the front door and scooted around the wall of the front porch, standing upright and hid beside one of two tall columns, scouting miles of dark fields with white cotton bolls, seeing nothing.

Cody exhaled with worry and swiftly spun around on top of the concrete porch, staring at the side yard to see shadows of the tall trees, the short plant bushes and the side of the cottage. He back stepped with a gasp from the column, "The cottage has four solid built concrete walls without a side window."

The front porch of the farm cottage was decorated with two columns on each side, holding up the tin roof and tall bricks of red clay. The outside cottage wooden trimming was painted in stark white color like a homestead for a newly married couple. There was a single door and a single window, creating a D-shaped layout. The living room, the kitchen, the first bedroom, the single bathroom, all the room are curved and curled around like the letter D with a single narrow hallway that circled around the floor. He whispered, "Weird ass."

Cody heard a new sound, not related to the native wildlife, coming from a right and dropped down, falling down to the dirt, squatting near the front porch. He crouched down on bent kneecaps, crawling low underneath the tree limbs of pine, oak, and maple trees to name a few of the native tree trunks in Alabama, listening to the odd sound.

The direction of the snap of the twin quickly changed heading west away from the cottage, moving towards the main ranch house of the Hawkins farm.

Cody closed both eyelids and concentrated on the soft sounds. His nostrils smelled the pine from the trees and absorbed the songs of Mother Nature, singing in piccolo, flute, bass, and baritone musical notes when a very distinct tenor echoed among the trees, his human prey.

He blinked open both eyelids and adjusted to night time of black shadows and puddles of yellow moon light that fluttering danced through the tree branches and as he lost himself in the cool fresh inviting woodland of nature.

Mother Nature was not prejudice or picky. She did not accept the US dollars for a cunning blackmail job or a vicious revenge plot against her native wildlife animals. Animal survival was based on the combination of the single fittest creature brain, brawn, and brass within the clan or the herd or the pack or the flock, thus the weak always eaten by the strong. Then, the stronger creatures lived and procreated the life cycle with another generation of stronger creatures. Then, the cycle continued as the sun rose and then sun set, ending the day.

Almighty God's creatures, who possessed none to one brain, fucked up an individual biological chemical with a set of jumbled murderous emotions and a damn Free Will thing, will do the stupidest things to God's other creatures which are known as humans.

Cody exhaled with a huff of worry and scouted the darkness, hearing a soft snap of a single twig. The assassin had changed the foot path, moving closer to Cody. Cody held a breath and folded a body, scooting ahead with a stern face with the gun through the wet leaves, stopping and hid behind a fat tree, closing both eyelids and listened with both eardrums. Each soft snap of a single twig shifted away from Cody and advanced back towards the cottage and then the snap sound shuffled away from the cottage.

Cody spun around from the fat tree and crouched down at both kneecaps, slowly moving back towards the front porch of the cottage, slowly strolling over the flat porch and stopped. He knelt down below the front window and slowly rose up a skull to eye level, peeking through the glass window with a soft gasp, dropping the hand gun near a kneecap.

Inside the single living room, Rob stood upright inside the empty hallway, pointing at the wall with a yell and a sour frown. "Cody! Where is Cody? Where is that boy? Find that kid, now!"

Tate shook a skull and reached over, wrapping an arm around his elderly mama, leaning down with a smile and a whisper into the face of his elderly daddy. More of his family members surrounded Tate inside a tight huddle.

Amber stood upright in the middle of a huddle of Mink, her two adult daughters, her elderly mother plus her biological sister and three young children.

Hawk stood upright inside a huddle of his elderly parents plus his biological brother, sister-in-law with four children.

Looking really weird ass, Amber wore a stupid crown that came from Miss Starlit Pageant on top of her red colored hair roots looking like an American princess. The deep blue sapphire gem stone twinkled underneath the artificial lights inside the half-moon shaped crown.

Cody had remembered seeing the same silver rhinestone crown which sparkled on top of Amber's skull displayed the other priceless antiques through the glass pane of built-in cabinet inside the dining room during the Ashmore murder investigation ta Amber's house. Then, the next day, the silver rhinestone crown had disappeared from the cabinet shelf when Cody took a turn to survey the interior and exterior of Amber's house as a new deputy-in-training.

Now, the same crown had reappeared here inside the cottage on the Hawkins farm on top of Amber's red colored hair roots, looking pretty but weird ass.

Rob strutted around and around each huddle of families with a sour frown and a yell, tossing both arms without a hand gun, "I want someone to find Cody, right now. Where is..."

Cody heard a new set of faint voices that came around the outside of the cottage near the rear, sliding down from the window glass, dropping down over the concrete porch and scooted away from the porch. He stood upright on both kneecaps and crouched down, dashing further backward from the front porch and the manicured the lawn into the darkness, hitting a ground of loose gravel and then hard cold metal.

The metal tractor stood inside the gravel driveway in the butthole path of Cody.

His body dropped down and fell over the cool gravel, rolling sideways and stopped underneath the high underbelly of the farm tractor, watching the activity through the open window inside the small cottage and the open front porch for a set of new strangers.

A group of dark shadows stood upright in the manicured grass, whispering to each other, back stepping from the cottage and spun around, walking back into the darkness.

Cody frowned with puzzlement at the moving dark shadows and surveyed the cottage, narrowing both eyelids, searching for the dark shadows and lifted a body up from the gravel.

Someone hit him with a tire iron.

Well, it felt like a tire iron. Part of the underbelly axle frame from the tractor belly fell down onto both back of both his legs, knocking a set of black bruises and red open cuts on a face and both naked arms, coming from tons of little tiny rough sharp gravel pebbles over his body. He tried to shuffle both legs in the air with a grunt and freed a left leg upright, kicking at the rear metal axle with a boot heel. Then, the solid engine of the old farm tractor dropped down in front of Cody. The loud bomb explosion inside the cottage blinded both eyelids and deafened both eardrums.

He fell back down onto the ground of loose sharp pebbles, covering a face with both bloody arms with a frightened pant, coming from the bright light and colorful fiery fire, feeling the heat around the engine hood with a sigh. He removed both arms and tried to stand but could not with the heavy axle metal part on top of one leg and back of a back spine. He strained with faint pants then loud grunts, hearing a set of faint sirens of the numerous emergency vehicles, finally falling back down into the sharp tiny pebbles in total exhaustion, seeing the fiery flames on the sides of the burning cottage.

The heated flame was pretty and deadly that had killing everyone inside.

No man, woman, or child could have probably survived inside the interior of the cottage. Each human body would be only parts of red blood, white bone fragments, and pink organ tissues that had been glued and stuck to each four walls of concrete.

He grunted with sobs of sadness and rested directly underneath the underbelly of the farm tractor, trying to roll sideway free of the axle metal when the engine hood cracked and broke apart from the heat and dropped down, bending at a folded angle, pressing the metal frame down over the entrapped teen body. His skull slightly tapped upward into the lowered hard metal.

Then, Cody passed out into darkness.

Hawkins Farms

Dirt road setting

(one mile, south, from cottage)

Warm temperatures with starry night sky

The male was tall with a tone of dark tinted skin, a head of brown colored hair and clean shaven, a brown colored shirt with a pair of new blue jeans, and a pair of polished cowboy boots. He stood beside the open door of the sports car, hearing a faint set of emergency sirens in the far distance. He slid down with a sneer into the seat next to a second male, who sat inside the passenger seat.

The second male turned and stared at the nose profile of the passenger. "Brone, your theory sucked on a carton of rotten eggs. The girl has died. So, you finally cooked the goose."

Brone possessed was a tall male with a head of cropped brown colored hair, a face of brown colored beard, and a tone of dark tinted skin, wearing a smile and watched through the pair of binoculars in the distance. The cottage burned in tall colored flames that came through the safety of the bullet proof wind shield and side windows of the specifically designed sports car.

The bomb explosion had killed all of the occupants inside the tiny cottage. The spreading tall plumes of fire will burn the surrounding fields, the crops, the barns, the animals, and finally the ranch house, where the other bodies were dead on the floor.

Brone sneered through the pair of binoculars. "No. The goose is alive, not cooked."
Four weeks later...

Thursday July 29th

08:03 am

Hot temperatures with parted clouds of sunshine

City of Huntsville within the US State of Alabama

(94 miles, north, from Morrison)

Von Brown Center building location

Conference room number one setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Cody was a tall and athletic seventeen-year-old teenager with a head of cropped blonde hair and a jaw line with black facial whiskers, and a pair of aqua irises. He had survived the bomb explosion on the Hawkins farm and was fresh out of the psychiatrist chair, a requirement of the US Marshal Office for any type of deadly dangerous disaster. He felt both happy and sad but ready to press on with his new assignment and his new supervisor in the new metro city of Huntsville.

Huntsville was the second largest city in the state of Alabama with a population of over 600,000. The area was famous for the Apollo spaceship design and development during the 1970s and the current war-killing missile design of present day. The city was located in the northern portion of Alabama with rolling hills, deep green valleys, and a flowing fresh water river. The fresh water river ran from east to west, covering the entire state within numerous counties. Huntsville also produced bales of white colored cotton bolls and black colored computer chips, a vital part of Alabama's thriving finances within a US tanked economy.

He didn't drive his personal pickup truck to arrive in Huntsville. He flew on an airplane from Birmingham and then lounged inside a limousine with a set of new wardrobe. He kept his old pair of polished cowboy boots thou for the new top secret mission.

Cody pressed down the golden colored US military uniform jacket and moved ahead through the open archway, stopping and stood inside the room.

The room was a square classroom style with a set of four dull white walls without a viewing window of trees and grass and sky. There was a teacher desk without a chair, a book, or a teacher. There were four metal chairs in front of a small writing table without a pull-out cabinet drawer. Four males were present inside the room and wore a different colored US military uniform too.

He moved ahead with a silly hand and a smile towards the lonely empty metal chair and writing desk. "Hey, ya'll! I'm Cody."

The solider was a tall and athletic male with a jaw line with red colored facial whiskers, a head of cropped brown hair, a pair of topaz eyes, and a tone of pale tinted skin. He slapped a chest with a grin, sitting behind the writing desk. "I'm Air Force named Fucner, Rector Fucner..."

The male inside the wheelchair in the rear of the room laughed with a smile. "Fuck, is that really your name, son?"

"Fucner, Rector Fucner," he spun around with a chuckle and a smile inside the chair to see the solider in the wheelchair. "Yeah, that's really my real name."

The solider extended a hand with a smile and a nod. "Fuck! I wanna shake your hand, son. Your daddy must've loved the shit of you, boy, naming you so grand and fine of a fucking legend of sexual maleness."

Fucner stood upright from the metal chair with a grin and moved ahead, stopping and stood in front of the wheelchair, extending a hand shake with a nod to the soldier. "Thank you kindly! Who are you, sir? When I marry and have a baby girl, I'm going to name her, Fucque Fucner," he laughed with the other soldiers.

The solider inside the wheelchair had a blond ponytail, a jaw line with blonde facial whiskers, a pair of brown eyes and a tone of pale tinted skin, shaking a hand with a laugh, "Activate Coast Guard, the lover of females, O'Hanlon Kirkwood at her service," he winked. "O'honey. O'honey," he chuckled with the other soldiers inside the room.

Cody sat down and spun around with a smile inside the hard chair to see the new set of co-workers with a smile and a nod in silence.

Fucner back stepped from Kirkwood and spun around, moving ahead towards the chair and stopped, standing behind a hairy rear of the skull of the young male. He reached down and slapped the collar bone of the young male inside the chair. They both faced the front of the room. Fucner smiled, "And, you are, young sir?"

The person was a short and skinny male with a head of brown colored hair, a face of clean shaven, a pair of brown colored eyes, and a tone of pale tinted skin. He cleared a throat and said to the front of the wall. "I represent the Marine Core. I am Alvin Rupert Zorach. I am eighteen years old from the great State of Mississippi. I am the son of billionaire cattle rancher. I currently serve as a lowly private for the US military for the public relations division. My internal ambition is to become the governor of Mississippi. I am starting my profession career off with a bang, too. I co-saved a team of Navy Seals trapped in a valley in Afghan..."

Fucner back stepped from the young male with a laugh and sat down inside his assigned chair with a puzzled brow at the rear skull of Alvin. "Co-saved? Is that fucking kin to words, such like, co-author, co-star, coaster...?"

Kirkwood laughed with a nod. "Co-saved, is that a fucking American word, son?"

Cody laughed with a nod. "Co-saved, is that an officially fucking military action verb, solider?"

Fucner laughed. "So, that makes Alvin a co-hero, right? Right!"

Kirkwood frowned. "You co-saved a team of Navy Seals. How tall are you, teen-boy?"

Alvin stood upright from the chair with a smile and spun around to face the other soldiers with a nod. "I am five feet and three inches..."

Fucner stood upright from the chair and slapped the chest, showing off his height compared to the short male. "He's co-tall, as well, as co-hero, when he co-saved the seven feet 'nastier than Texas rattlers' Navy Seals." He laughed with the other soldiers and then turned pointing at the quite solider. "Who are you, sir?"

The tall and slender male with a head of blonde colored hair, a face of blonde facial whiskers, a tone of pale tinted skin, and pair of green eyes turned with a stern face to see Fucner, "Islander."

Fucner nodded with a smile. "Excellent! So, someone tell me this! Why are we all present here in Huntsville, Alabama today?"

08:31 am

City of Alburville

(four miles, east, from Birmingham)

Resident home location

Living room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

The mother was a tall and pretty female with a head of short black hair, a pair of blue eyeballs, and a tone of pale skin. She entered the house from the outdoors into the living room and waved the letter envelope near a smile, stopping and stood beside the nose profile of her daughter at the dining room table. "It's here. It came. I am so excited. Here it is."

The daughter was a tall and pretty teenager with a slender body, a head of long black colored hair, a pair of green eyeballs, and a tone of pale tinted skin. She chewed and swallowed the food at the table, looking down to see the new text on her mobile telephone. "What's here?"

"This envelope contains your personal invitation letter into the Miss Starlit pageant. Registration..."

The daughter continued to type a text on her mobile telephone with a sour frown at the tiny screen. "Mom, you said that I didn't have to do those anymore. And I said that I didn't want to do those anymore."

Her mother ripped and opened the envelope with a smile, looking at the letter. "One more, this one is the big granddaddy long legs spider of the spider family. Did you that they are the biggest bug in the world?"

The daughter read the new text with a smile on the mobile phone. "A wolf spider living in the dense and cool woodlands of Mississippi can wrestle, toss, and blood suck a mature Chihuahua, Mom. They're the biggest darnest ugliest things in the South. You promised last month was the last beauty pageant for my bones, Mom."

Her mother smiled and waved the letter. "Darling, just one more pageant, that's it forever. You'll have all the money needed for your entire entrance into college from your freshman year until you receive your doctoral in engineering, working for the rest of life on easy street rather than struggling like me and your father paycheck by paycheck and then paying the minimum on the credit cards month by month and not ever getting ahead..."

The daughter exhaled with a sigh and looked up with a smile to see her mother, "Thanks for loving and helping and guiding me to the right stuff, Mom. I really love you."

Her mother smiled. "Let's get your there and ready. Registration starts at nine am. Then, the interviews begin at ten am. During the day, there is the dance practice for the musical song. Tomorrow is swimsuit and evening gown competition. The day after tomorrow, is the crowning of you as Miss Starlit of Alabama, darling. I'm so excited," she spun around with a smile and a hum and moved ahead towards the kitchen, working on the gathering the dress and the items for the pageant.

09:01 am

Hot temperatures with parted clouds of sunshine

Von Brown Center building location

1st floor level

Conference room number one setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

The door opened and revealed a tall male inside the archway.

He was a tall and slender with a face of gray facial whiskers, a head of black-grayish colored hair, a tone of dark tinted skin, leaning into a walking cane and appeared fifty something years old. He slowly limped into the semi-naked room and stared out the forward window, looking at two mature fifty-year-old tall shade trees. It was the home to a nest of flying mama and daddy red birds. He stopped and stood beside the single office desk with a sour frown and sniffed the air waves, "Smoke?"

Fucner laughed, "Fire."

Cody nodded with a grin, "Where there is smoke, there is fire?" He chuckled with the other soldiers.

He limped ahead on the walking cane towards the captured audience of new assholes and stopped, standing beside the office desk. He rolled backward the office chair away from table lip without sitting. The chair hit the wall. He stood in place of the rolling chair and placed the arms of paper folders on top of the table surface, scanning each unfamiliar male but a slightly recognized face that came from a personnel dossier where the billionaire host of the Miss Starlit Pageant had provided. He stopped and stared at the asshole with a lighted stinky cigar. The asshole also held a small tumbler of alcohol. He leaned into the table surface and lifted up, pointing the walking cane at the posted green colored sign in the wall corner. "Do you not see the 'no smoking' sign that is posted on the walls throughout the facility, solider?"

Cody laughed. "He can't read."

"The room smells good to me," chuckled Fucner.

Cody laughed. "He can't write either."

"Looks good to me," chuckles Fucner.

Skippy frowned with annoyance at the male with the cigar, "Are you on meds, solider?"

O'Hanlon reached up and touched, pulling out the lighted cigar with two fingers, not burning the tender pads with a sour frown. "One, you ain't my sweet ass grayed haired southern mama. Two, this is my fucking hourly medication for everything. Three, I follow only my own gawd damn commands when I feel like following my own gawd damn commands," he inserted the cigar back into an open mouth and slammed the lips shut, inhaling a big gulp, exhaling with a big round puff of smoke circles for drama with a grin.

Cody laughed with a nod, "He can't curse either."

The male exhaled with a huff of annoyance and leaned onto the walking cane with a fake smile to each solider. "Good morning. I'm leader. I got three questions for you. Who in the hell is gay?" He did not see a visual hand and felt relief for the moment, until the truth tripped over his polished cowboy boot toes. Then, he would kick the asshole off the judge panel. He heard the chuckling and said with a stern face. "When was the last time you got fucked? I am not interested in any dates, hours, or the number of whores?"

Fucner tossed an arm with a smile and a nod "Last night."

O'Hanlon nodded with a grin, "This morning..."

Cody spun around with a chuckle to see O'Hanlon. "Bullshit, O'honey!"

Islander did not answer the question.

The male nodded with a smile to each soldier. "My third and final question has parts A and B. Part A, tell me something about true yourself? So, I can verify inside my flimsy paper folder eliminating your ass as a serious terrorist. Part B, what proper noun not inappropriate verb do you want me to reference as your name? While I'm commanding you here since I'm the leader."

Fucner chuckled. "Do you always speak in fucking full twelfth grade Miss Smith's English literature sentences like the dead and buried ancient William Shakespeare?"

Alvin stood upright from the chair, not very tall, and cleared a throat. "I represent the Marine Core. I am Alvin Rupert Zorach. I am eighteen years old from the great State of Mississippi. I am the son of billionaire cattle rancher. I currently serve as a lowly private for the US military for the public relations division. My internal ambition is to become the governor of Mississippi. I am starting my profession career off with a bang. I co-saved a team of Navy Seals trapped in a valley in Afghan. Thank you, sir," he continued to stand at attention. The leader nodded with a stern face in silence to Alvin.

O'Hanlon reached down and banged a hand onto the side of the wheelchair, puffing out streams of smoke in circles. "O'Hanlon Kirkwood, Coast Guard disabled with both legs and left arm, smokes cigars and drinks whiskey all the damn time and sweet talks girls into fucking me over and over again. Gemini is my astrological sign that represents the twins doing twin things with my ring of sex slaves. They yell out during sex: O honey, O honey, you're great," he chuckled with the other soldiers.

Alvin exhaled with a huff of annoyance. "You are nothing, but an O'hick lick."

O'Hanlon frowned at the rear skull of Alvin. "My Irish surname is both precious and honored, my 'ill little turd it' hick person from Mississippi."

Cody turned around again and pointed to O'Hanlon with a smile and a nod. "That's very clever. Illiterate, ill little turd it. I'll chop it down to "turd it' for fun if I was you, Mississippian man."

Alvin stared at the leader with a growl. "I am beginning to sharpen my knife for some kidney pie, O'hick lick?"

O'Hanlon reached down into the trousers and then lifted up into the air a wicked hunting knife with a sneer, twirling the knife in the air. "Man, I never sharpen my weapon when I got the bicep to bisect in one sucker punch into Bambi meat, ill little turd it."

Fucner chuckled. "I am the hero of the Army, sir. I am Fucner, Rector Fucner. I am a fucking great lover, too, because I love making fucking love to any female that I can find. I have a fucking lover on my right and another fucking lover on my left..."

Cody turned and laughed at Fucner and then looked back at the leader. "Bullshit, Fucner! My addictions are games and beer. I didn't have sex slaves as an addiction like O'honey. Sex is a hobby, not addiction, man."

The leader lifted and tapped the cane over the hard surface of the empty office desk for attention with a stern face. "I am Skippy, the brain, the professor, the Rhodes Scholar, the jet fighter pilot, the Tennessee redneck. I am very pleased to meet each of you, especially pleased to learn of O'Hanlon's addictions, hobbies, and introducing his new job, a Miss Starlit pageant judge."

O'Hanlon smiled with a nod, "Yeehaw!"

Skippy nodded with a smile. "My rules are as follows. We ditch the military fatigues during the low key beauty competition, wearing a set of proper blue jeans and a cotton shirt without the profanity on the chest. Or I'll drop your ass on the tile and rip the imported cotton fabrics off your back spine..."

Fucner tossed both hands with a laugh. "Ow! That sounds fucking freaky to me. I'm willing to get it to go. Do fucking me first, Skippy."

Skippy said with a stern face. "Does every soldier understand my command? Excellent," grinning.

Cody chuckled. "The cute girls like their country boys with a set of camouflage clothes and a southern deep draw."

Skippy exhaled. "Your job today is to visually view each contestant as they appear on the television plasma which is behind my ass," he reached over and pressed the button on the remote control device. A television plasma black tinted screen dropped down from the top of the ceiling and covered the naked white wall. He said. "This is one of many conference rooms inside the conference center which is owned by the city of Huntsville. The center is currently not really used, since the building of the newly finished Von Brown Conference Center. Therefore, we are being housed here to work. We represent the US military during the pageant activities. This is the international portion of the Starlit Pageant, because the owner of the Starlit Pageant moved it from the city of London within the country of England for money purposes..."

"The entire world revolves around money." Cody nodded with a smile. "But we're some of the judges here, so we all vote for Miss USA to win the pageant. USA. USA," he lifted both arms into the air with a smile and a cheer.

Skippy reached over and grabbed, lifting up the stack of thin paper folders with a stern face. "Thanks for your input, Cody. This paper folder contains one sheet of paper with all the countries in the world. There are hundred and six girls. You as the judge will select the top fifteen females that you believe should win Miss Starlit who will be crowned within two days from now. Cody, please hand out the paper and an ink pen." Cody scooted from the chair and dashed ahead, snatching the folder, looking inside while slowly watching around and passed out each paper and an ink pen in silence. Skippy smiled. "Please, only select the whole number of fifteen, not fourteen, not eighteen, not ten. You can doodle on the back of the paper for your top number of girls and then mark with a big blue letter X for the fifteen females. This is the first stage, interviewing. Tomorrow, the second stage is wiggling their assets in swim suits and evening gowns. The final night on Wednesday is the crowning. We will dress in our US Federal Government issued military uniform sitting behind the first row of judges. This pageant is televised all over the world, so be good on Wednesday evening. The specific ugly reason, we are all housed inside a dark room, inside a darker building is because of a couple of naughty ass soldiers. And it ain't me or Islander," he chuckled with the other soldiers.

Fucner stood upright from the chair and spun around, slapping his chest with a smile in silence, sitting down with a grin.

Skippy laughed. "The interview process will last for four hours..."

Cody handed the last paper and ink pen to quiet Islander and spun around, moving with a chuckle back to his assigned seat. "That's only one minute and twenty-two seconds of interview time for each," he slid down into the chair and placed the paper in top of the hard surface twirling the ink pen inside a hand.

Fucner tapped on the paper with a nod and a smile. "Girls gossip and talk faster than a blinking eyelash, Cody. That's plenty of time to separate the girl from the woman, the innocent from the sexy, the princess from the queen," he grunted with the other soldiers.

Skippy nodded. "Fucner gave the command. Watch the television screen and select your favorite fifteen..."

O'Hanlon looked down with a sour frown at the empty paper and back up to see the black colored television screen. "How's we supposed to grade the girls?"

Cody lifted and rattled the empty paper near a smile, staring at the television screen. "I use the Goody to Baddy chart with a high grade of five stars for a quick slick interview response, sweet smile, and proper southern belle manners. No hanging boogers or stained tobacco teeth," chuckling.

Fucner laughed with a nod at the powered down television screen, "Pretty good method, Cody! I pick Miss USA and the other fourteen biggest tits on the screen..."

Cody looked down with a confused brow at the paper. "I see only the names of the typed printed countries in the world. There ain't any stats of breast cups on the form, Fucner."

"Kid, I don't need numbers when I got eyeballs," Fucner touched the nose with a laugh.

Cody looked up with a smile to see Skippy. "How many pageants have you judged, Skippy? What is your standard grading method of beauty queens, sir?"

Skippy smiled. "This is my first and only one, Cody. I use the cow grading system as I am a cow farmer in the great State of Tennessee. A grading system is valuable in the cow industry. It's provides a common language with seeing the steer. There are three frame sizes and three muscle thicknesses," he chuckled with the other soldiers. "Large, medium, and small are the nine possible combinations which allows me to weed out for ugliness, improper habits, or unkindness. A large frame cow is ugly, tall, and long boned with no fat. A medium frame cow is moderate in height and ugliness. And a small frame cow is short and ugly. As a cow grows tall, its appearance changes like their ears decrease in size in relation to their head for telling the truth. Otherwise, the big ears are untrustworthy. The muzzle becomes wider like the nose, growing long and sharp like a blood-sucking vampire bat. The head becomes longer in relation to its fat ass, bringing out hostile intentions. And the tail increases in length for fibbing with a prominent eye twitch or two. The degree of muscle thickness is directly related to unkindness. A thick muscle is full in arms, back, waist and legs, highly unkindness," he winked with a chuckle at Cody. "A moderate muscle is narrower in forearm and ass which is an okay unkindness. A small muscle is a dairy cow which is very sweet and kind to all. The end!"

O'Hanlon coughed with a grin. "I give all the girls ten stars. Then I minus a star for one of the following ugly features, if she got a red nose like me and Rudolph the reindeer, I minus one star..."

Cody chuckled. "Your red nose is called rosacea, O'honey. It is caused by a set of red patches on the sensitive skin of the face. Sometime, there might be a set of thick bumps which is a condition called rhinophyma. Rosacea is more common in males than female while genetics play a role, also. You can go and get a doc treatment of burning lasers for the medical condition."

Fucner turned and frowned at the nose profile of Cody. "Who's the smartass?"

"Cody Mack, seventeen years old," Skippy nodded with a grin at the young teen.

O'Hanlon laughed. "If she got a canker sore like me, I minus one star..."

Cody chuckled at the screen. "A canker sore is a small painless ulcer inside the mouth which is called an aphthous ulcer also. They are not caused by a virus, but poor food choices. You should think about changing your diet to more fruits and vegetables, O'honey," smiling.

O'Hanlon smiled. "If she sweats like me, I minus one star..."

Cody nodded. "Excessive sweating is called hyperhidrosis which occurs on the palms, the soles of the foot, and underneath your armpits. A doctor can treat you with an aluminum chloride antiperspirants, oral medications, or mild electrical currents."

"O'honey has had too much mild electrical currents running wild and free through his brain cells already," Fucner chuckled.

O'Hanlon stuck out a tongue and wiggled it, "If she gots a black tongue..."

"Ugh! Put it away before I vomit up my scrambled eggs." Fucner turned and winked to Cody.

Cody spun around with a chuckle to see Kirkwood. "A black hairy tongue is made of tiny little bumps that grown long on top of your tongue instead of shedding. Then a set of bacteria grows on top of that which creates the black nasty gross color. Poor oral hygiene, smoking, radiation therapy, and medications can create that medical condition. Brush your teeth and tongue, O'honey!" He turned back around and winked to Fucner. Fucner shook a skull with a laugh.

O'Hanlon replaced the cigar into the mouth and huffed, forming a ring of white smoke. "And if she got a pair of coonie eyes, picks her boogers, sticks her finger into the ear, yawns, burps, hiccups or eye twitches, then three stars come off."

Skippy nodded with a smile. "Thank you for that wonderful creative grading system, O'Hanlon."

O'Hanlon nodded with a smile. "Welcome, sir."

The television screen blinked into life. The male host with black hair and pale skin on the television screen smiled into the camera lenses. The screen panned from the announcer to the first female. The female was tall with a tone of dark tinted skin, a head of dark long colored hair, and a pair of big breasts. She sat down in the chair with a smile beside the host "I am Miss Etitrea. I hail from the country of Africa, a waitress. But I am studying pre law..."

O'Hanlon smiled with a nod, looking down to write on the paper, "Ten stars."

Fucner smiled with a nod. "She is my number two. Since, Miss USA is number one always and forever in my book, heart, lap, and dick..."

"Quiet, soldier," Skippy back stepped from the table and sat down inside the rolling chair, leaning over the table with the paper, marking down his choice of each girl too with a smile.

The first girl stood upright from the chair and smiled into the camera lenses in silence, turning and moved ahead, disappearing from the television screen. The second female appeared. She was short with a tone of olive tinted skin, a head of dark colored hair, and a pair of small breasts, moving down the runaway and sit next to the host with a smile. "I am Miss Bishkek from the country of China. I attend college on scholarship funding while I study in pre-medicine..."

O'Hanlon smiled. "Ten stars minus two. She sweats like me and got some eye twitches like me, too."

Fucner smiled. "Not on my naughty list..."

The second girl stood upright from the chair and smiled into the camera lenses in silence, turning and moved ahead, disappearing from the television screen. The third female appeared. She was tall with a tone of pale tinted skin, a head of long blonde colored hair and a pair of small breasts, moving down the runaway and sat next to the host with a smile into the camera lenses. "Hello! I am Miss Andorra from the country of France. I am a dancer during the nights and a student of engineering during the days..."

"Adorable darling, number three." Fucner looked down with a smile and marked the form with the blue ink pen with a chuckle.

Cody turned and frowned at the nose profile of Fucner. "She ain't got any big pair of tits."

Fucner turned and wiggled the eyebrows at Cody. "Yes, she's got a pretty face and a French accent."

O'Hanlon smiled. "Ten stars, no minuses."

The third girl stood upright from the chair and smiled into the camera lenses in silence, turning and moved ahead, disappearing from the television screen. The fourth female appeared. She was tall with a tone of pale tinted skin, a head of dark colored hair, and a pair of small breasts, moving down the runaway and sat next to the host with a smile into the camera lenses, "I am Miss Holy See..."

"Holy shit! What country is Holy See at on the world map?" Cody frowned at the screen and whipped out his mobile telephone with Fucner and Islander.

O'Hanlon smiled with a nod at the screen and the girl. "Ten stars, no minuses."

Cody exhaled. "Holy See is a township of the Vatican in Rome, Italy," he looked up with a puzzled brow at the television screen. "What is she doing here in a beauty contest with these other girls?"

Skippy nodded with a smile. "She is a representative of the Rome, Italy."

Fucner frowned at the screen and the girl. "She is a representative of the Vatican. I didn't know the Pope had his own set of girls," he turned and laughed at the nose profile of Cody.

The fourth girl stood upright from the chair and smiled into the camera lenses in silence, turning and moved ahead, disappearing from the television screen. The fifth female appeared. She was tall with a tone of pale tinted skin, a head of long blonde colored hair and a pair of big breast, moving down the runaway and sat next to the host with a smile into the camera lenses. "I am Miss Liechtenstein from the country of Switzerland. I am a computer nerd that plays the piano."

O'Hanlon smiled with a nod and looked down looked down to mark the paper, "Ten stars, no minuses."

Cody turned and frowned at Fucner in silence. Fucner shook a skull with a laugh at the amusing new job.

01:13 pm

Hot temperatures and windy with parted clouds of sun

Unnamed white painted building

211 Clinton Avenue location

Conference room thirteen setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

The limousine slowed and then stopped in front of the white building. The chauffeur scooted out the seat and opened the rear door for the passenger.

He scooted out from the limousine rear seat and moved ahead to the closed door, standing in front of the set of double doors of glass and looked up to see the flat roof top of the one-story building, scratching an ass inside the military trousers. Cody turned and stared at red colored taillights of the limousine that drove away from the building and then onto the empty roadway. "Shit! This ain't my luxurious hotel," he looked down with a puzzled brow and read out loud the piece of wrinkled paper, "211 Clinton Avenue," he looked up with a puzzled brow and read the address of letters that were nailed into the red bricked building. "211 Clinton Avenue," he exhaled with a nod. "Okay. I have got the right address, the wrong hotel," he turned and stared at the empty roadway. The limousine was gone. He turned and stared at the closed door with a stern face. "Okay, Captain Skippy, sir! But I carry concealed and ready to defend my ass, buddy," he reached out with a sigh and grabbed, twisting the knob of the door.

The door opened.

Cody entered through the archway and read the letter again, stating a new assignment, following the directions. The directions led down a long semi-dark and empty hallway into the conference room number thirteen. He slowly paced down the dull light colored paint that reflected off the dark hallway walls that came from the sunny front doors of glass. The overhead lights held a set of burnt out bulbs which slightly illuminated some light from the dirty ceiling panels.

Cody reached down and gently outlined the hand gun inside the shoulder hostler with a right shooting hand for a fucking surprise attack, not being the assigned luxury hotel with a worried brow and a whisper, "This is really weird-ass funny." He passed a series of closed doors on each side wall and then saw a single beam of light coming from an open archway.

01:19 pm

Open archway setting

Cody stopped and turned, standing inside the archway. The room was rectangular shape. He grinned with a chuckle at the occupants. "Hey, man!"

The room was rectangular shaped without a single viewing window. A round conference table decorated the middle of the room with a set of numerous ugly orange and brown colored padded office chairs. The walls were newly painted stark white that reflected the bright overhead lights.

Cody blinked the eyelids, adjusting to the bright room. "What in the fuck is going on here, Fucner? Islander?"

Fucner sat in a chair at the long conference table, playing on his mobile telephone, smiling down at the latest text from the new hot girl. "Damn if I know any fucking thing, kid! My limo driver didn't spit in my face but drove right here then left my ass standing in the wind, without a pair of shades," he laughed with Cody and Islander.

Islander sat in a chair also near the end of the table, scanning the room, Fucner and then Cody without speaking. He exhibited the same behavior in the conference room inside the Von Brown Center as a pageant judge.

Skippy came from behind and shoved Cody into the new conference room, moving ahead down the front wall towards the opposite side of the conference table without the walking cane. He stopped and turned, standing in front of Fucner and Islander, placing his walking cane on top of the table with a smile, "Come inside and a have a sit, Cody! Welcome, gentlemen! You are in the right spot, if you're wondering. The Von Brown Center is a multi-purpose facility which is equipped to accommodate major events from a musical concert to any type of sporting event. There are the south, north, and east exhibition halls, a theater playhouse, a concert hall, and the sporting arena. We are located off site in one of the ancient conference rooms from about 1970s for a very specific purpose. I am a fake like you too. However, I am really named Admiral Skippy Lawson of the US Navy. You are really named Cody Mack, Rector Fucner, and Islander Sloan. Each one of you had served at an agency of the US Federal government on yesterday. Today, you are assigned to me. The purpose will be revealed and very valuable that I promise. Before I state our main objective, I would like you to close your eyes including Fucner." Fucner closed the eyelids. Skippy said without the closed eyelids and scanned each face with a stern brow. "I would like you to narrate your last mission assignment for each one of your new fellow co-workers in any form or fashion you see appropriately. Yes, I do have a purpose here. Who wants to tell us their demon tail, first?"

Cody cleared a throat with a set of closed eyelids. "I am not a soldier in the Air Force military. I work for the US Marshal Office before showing up here in the northern metro city of Huntsville. The US Marshal Office's purpose is to guard the judicial representatives. I was guarding the only surviving person from the Ashmore family mass murders within the city of Ironside, when there was an assassination attempt on the guarded person. The guarded person was moved to a safe house. When I heard the snaps of twigs outside the safe house, I decided to hide and then scare the bastard, who was threatening the girl. I was underneath the farm tractor, after hearing the noise outside the safe house which was a small cottage. However, the bastard was a gang of bastards and then the ground shook. Then, the tractor shook over my body and dropped down a series of heavy metal parts over both my legs which trapped me. Then, I saw the small cottage explode into fire and flame. I passed out. The end."

Skippy said, "Good, Cody."

Islander exhaled with a huff of sadness. "I work for the FDA office in metro city of Birmingham. I was on a cold killer case of murdered children. I was at outside the FBI biological center when a bomb took out the entire complex that included my FDA partner and...and others."

Fucner exhaled with a set of closed eyelids. "I work for the IRS in B'ham too which seems to be a common geographical city here. I was guarding a girl, who had embezzled money from one of the local hospitals. The safe house cabin blew up into gray ashes and red colored cinders, without me. I was outside and inside my truck, getting a damn paper letter, surviving the sizzling heat bomb."

Skippy nodded. "I work for the DIA, the Defense Intelligence Agency, and I am on assignment to investigate some art thieves here in Bama. I was inside a cavern on a river, when the scientific team was killed by a group of terrorists..."

"Terrorists!" Cody opened the eyelids and stared at Skippy.

Fucner opened the eyelids and dropped open a mouth at Skippy, "There are a set of terrorists in Bama."

Islander opened the eyelids with a gasp to see Skippy. "A terrorist cell is located here in Alabama."

Skippy sat down with a nod and a stern face to each male. "Yes, I believe so. Do me another favor? I have the answer, but I need confirmation from each one of you. What was your last pretty image of your guarded marker right before the explosion?"

Cody turned with a puzzled brow and stared at the wall and then back to Skippy. "Amber was wearing that silly big pretty crown."

Islander turned and stared at Cody, dropping open a mouth. "Tatiana was wearing her crown, too."

Fucner turned and stared at Cody and then Skippy. "Yes, I saw a crown too that came from the Miss Starlit..."

"Yes," Skippy nodded. "I believe that the terrorist cell is targeting the Miss Starlit pageant," he slammed the stack of paper folders on top of the table surface that came from a hidden briefcase underneath the table. "Over the past ten years, various Miss Starlit winners have died or maybe have been murdered within each participating foreign country as of last week. A foreign country treats a murder definitely different than here within the US. Last week, you three eye witnessed three separate winners, who all had died from some type of explosive blast like a bomb. The bomb killed everyone within the vacancy, except for you. So, you're a batch of lucky bastards. That's all I can say, hay," chuckling.

Cody frowned. "So, I supposed to die in the explosion, too."

Skippy nodded. "Yes. So, what is the common factor between you, three boys?"

Fucner nodded. "We each saw a tiara from the winner of the Miss Starlit pageant."

Skippy pointed Fucner with a smile. "Bingo. Fucner is a dog today. Someone is killing off the contestants for fun or money or both. So, we're going to track down his ass and kiss the bastard goodbye. We start right now tonight. Each one takes an eight-hour shift to watch the girls..."

Fucner smiled. "I can watch naked or clothed beauties for twenty-four hours."

Skippy chuckled. "Fucner gets the midnight shift."

Fucner stood and then twirled in a circle with a smile and a singing voice. "Yippy! Yummy! Yay! Girls, girls, girls, I love admiring beautiful girls. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I love fucking beautiful girls...more...more...more..."

Skippy frowned. "Shut up and sit down, solider! The second job is working the contestants with a set of background checks, criminal checks, financial checks, former lovers, current boyfriends, and lesbian relationships, if it exists. Each girl has to be investigated at hundred percent. Someone works with SUSY-Q."

Islander lifted a palm in silence for the new assignment.

Skippy turned and nodded to Islander. "Islander is the man for the paperwork trail. My theory, one of the contestants is jealous and is killing all the girls for revenge. Or one of the losing contestants is more jealous and is killing all the girls. Either way, we got a jealous bitch out there. We have to identify and stop her, before they crown the winner in two short days. Our job begins now, gentleman. We work all day and night with a quick soapy shower. I hate the smell of monkey buttholes. Quick meals, your individual hotel suite has a generous supply of food and deodorant. I mean it about the monkey butthole smells."

Islander nodded. "What about the two other true soldiers, who are judges?"

Skippy nodded. "They have legitimate roles within the pageant as a real judge. We are the backup and good looking American four warriors to find the killer and save the gawd damn world of beauties. This is an International Miss Starlit pageant, not an American one. The American one is later this year. We concentrate solely on our foreign visitors. Someone is planning a little firework explosion the night of the pageant at the winner or during one of the practices, maybe. I doubt it will be during the competition practice. The pageant direction has secured every exit, corner, and dark wall with his security people. So, we are here to find and stop the killer..."

"Or we don't get paid," laughed Fucner.

Islander frowned. "And if we don't, sir?"

Skippy nodded. "The pattern of the killer is to seek out and kill the winner, so we have a chance to tag and bag her, even after the pageant. But it could be too late as you have experienced. To complete my demon tale, I get hit by a flying bullet and saved by my body armor and then fell down into the river on top of a floating platoon boat. I swiftly floated away downstream, while the terrorists killed everyone inside the cavern. When I investigated, I too found a former Miss Starlit winner among the group of the dead. I, too, survived by God's grace and damn luck. Our mission is to save the Miss Starlit pageant. We all have been independently employed by the billionaire, who owns the pageant. These world-wide beauty contests are extremely money profitable. Now, if you want to back out, you can. However, I do believe each one of you is on medical leave from your employer. And I have some more badder news. Your employer the US Federal Government is not restating active duty for your old jobs. Your trusting co-workers are afraid of your current mental condition. Therefore, I accept you and your medical condition for this job. You will be rewarded very, very well. So well, you could retire and start a second career move," he smiled. "Do I have any rejects?"

"No sir," Islander said.

Fucner nodded, "Naw."

"I stay." Cody smiled.

Skippy nodded. "Excellent! I have my good team. This is a mission. The other two US military soldiers are real and really the pageant judges. On the final night of the pageant, we will be acting like a team of security guards that will scout out and around the auditorium and then back stage with the girls. Based on our current information, which is not much, one of the girls might be the murderer. The other winner from one of the other foreign countries throughout the world died the next day, after winning the pageant. Therefore, the contest was terminated there. The owner who is American has moved the international competition here in Huntsville mainly to catch and stop the killer. We possess all the sophisticated technological facilities and cameras and microphones, riding up every asshole in all fifty countries. Excuse the pun!" He chuckles with the others.

Fucner reached up and rubbed a tense neck with a frown. "The VBC is a great big structure for four little men," he chuckled. "Excuse the pun! I think we need more soldiers, sir."

"SUSY-Q," Skippy yelled with a smile.

A shadow appeared and stood inside the archway. Skippy turned and pointed to the shadow. A female shaped robot was tall and silver tinted with a pair of two arms, a pair of two legs, a television square shaped head on a girly metal body of 36, 24, 38 measurements. SUSY-Q blinked with yellow and blue lines on the television head and droned with speech with a female soprano voice. "Good afternoon, gentlemen! I have prepared nourishment inside the lunchroom for your pleasure, before our mission begins."

Skippy smiled at the robot. "SUSY-Q, the letters stand for Systemic oUter space SYnchronization cutie. Yeah! Try and find these five letters acronyms in those words. She is our internal spy and prime resource, scouting every single electronic component at the VBC, around the VBC, above the VBC, and under the VBC. She has ears and eyes that come from all the outer space satellites and the approval of the US Federal government. She is a reject from NSI, the National Space Institution, where her circuits started costing them more than one billion dollars-per-day. She is our newest team member. She is a robot of slick sliver parts and components with zillions of neurons."

Cody stood upright from the chair and pointed with a smile at SUSY-Q. "She is the biggest and prettiest piece of computer architecture that I've ever seen. In the computer world, you have a hardware piece like your laptop and a software portion like your email app. The two work together for you to speak to the world with your fingers. In the business world, there are many computers that connect many applications to run a business enterprise. In the computer architecture world, when the computer and the application marry, they are called a process. Then, a process turns into zillion processes, which is a computer communication system. Her communication system is an infrastructure of invisible space, time, and data where messages or data or symbols or math passes the datum to you, me, him, her, and the other unfriendly or friendly users. A computer is nothing but a finite set of step-by-step internal typed instructions within that slightly rectangular machine on your desk called an algorithm. An algorithm is a quantitative measurement in terms of mathematical sequences, when all the sequences work faster than solar flares, shooting from the solar sun. You as the user can communicate with the entire world within milliseconds or less time. She interacts with other computers using zillions of algorithms in a sequential load beside a parallel load of specific electronic commands in synchronization. She is the link so to speak..."

Fucner turned and frowned at the side view tallness of Cody. "How many cells is inside your brain, boy?"

Cody scooted around the table and moved ahead with a smile to SUSY-Q. "The average brain holds 100 billion cells. Each brain cell connects to tens of thousands of other brain cells or neurons. The neurons are separated by tiny synapses. When a signal from the brain, such-like, a movement, a thought, a memory, a sensation, or a feeling reaches the end of the nerve fiber, it releases neurotransmitters which cross over to the synapses and then into the other neuron. Brain cells live the longest within the body. Some parts of the brain grow new neurons as we grow older. The brain is still a marvel and mystery to scientists and physicians..."

"You're a marvel and a mystery, son," Skippy shook a skull with a laugh.

Islander turned and chuckled at the back spine of Cody, "Because, he's got two hundred billion cells."

Cody stopped and stood beside the robot, leaning over with a smile and hugged the robot with metal love. "I love you, SUSY-Q," he pulled back and touched her metal body with a smile and a nod. "She is soft and shiny with a pair of two slender arms, a pair of slender hands, and a set of four slender fingers too. She has a pair of long legs that are shaped like a female. But she needs some clothes though. A southern belle shouldn't be caught with her panties down," he chuckled with the others.

"How old is he?" Fucner jabbed a finger at the ass of Cody near the robot.

Skippy smiled at the nose profile and the teen-ass behavior of Cody. "Seventeen-year-old Cody Mack, I'm glad you approve of SUSY-Q. The current task is to investigate each participate in the pageant, find the killer, and kill her. No body parts or pieces, please! Once we find her, we eliminate her. You will find that your individual bank account has a great big new money balance for this specific task. I hope no one has problem, killing in cold blood today or tonight or tomorrow."

Fucner reached down into the sports jacket and whipped out the mobile telephone, thumbing the keys for the bank account funds with a smile, "Naw. I like to kill terrorists and assholes that piss good folks off their rocking chairs," he smiled at the money inside his personal bank account.

Cody nodded at SUSY-Q, "Me, too!" Islander nodded in silence.

Skippy clapped with a smile, "Good. I need a body to work with SUSY-Q, bleeding over the hard copy folders in the next room and the electronic ones with her."

Islander turned and frowned at the nose profile of Skippy. "Sir, I'm not the leader. But, each girl was interviewed and investigated. Or she would not be here today. These pageants examine every detail of the female's life private, professional and public."

Skippy turned and nodded to Islander. "Yes, they do. And we do, too, since we're better investigators and are looking for something that someone missed."

Islander lifted a palm with a nod. "I'll do the paper work tracing and trailing, sir." Skippy nodded to Islander in silence.

Cody pulled back with a frown and stood beside SUSY-Q like a girlfriend. "So, I guess we don't get to play with the girls."

Skippy nodded with a smile to each face. "Your wish comes true. We are going to eat lunch, brunch, supper, and dinner with the girls flirting, giggling, and drinking soda, not alcohol. There are numerous events that require the judge's attention, selecting the proper Miss Starlit."

Cody frowned, "But, we're fake."

"But, we're fun, too." Fucner laughed.

Skippy stood upright from the chair and grabbed the walking cane with a smile. "But, we are finding a killer, also. That means interaction with the killer and the innocent girls. Okay. Stand and smooth your jackets and feathers, boys! We leave in the limo for lunch. Sorry, Islander! You get to eat alone with SUSY-Q."

Islander continued to sit with a grin. "Not a problem! I work best with a cold heart and a piece of cool metal."

Skippy nodded with a smile. "We work all day and all night on this paid assignment. After dinner with the girls, we meet right here for observations, comments, opinions, and reports. Get cracking, boys!"

Each one stood upright from the table and moved ahead to the archway, exiting the conference room with a set of chuckles and grins.

10:28 pm

Hot temperatures with bright moonlight and stars

Unnamed white painted building

211 Clinton Avenue location

Conference room thirteen setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Cody appeared and stood inside the archway with a smile and a bottle of beer. Fucner sat at the table and frowned at Cody. "How old are you, kid?"

"Old," Cody sipped and swallowed the beer and then burped.

"Suck down the beer! Or give it to me, Cody. I'm too old for some jail time." Skippy turned and frowned at the teen and then back to Islander. "What have you found, Islander?" Cody entered the room and continued to sip the beer with a soft burp, sitting on the head of the table to hear the shared information in silence.

Islander sat on the far end of the table with a stern face to each soldier. "You can call me, Is. Miss Madagascar is the fourth cousin, twice removed of Miss Malagasy. Miss Kurunegala is a millionaire. Miss Dorchester is a dork, who robbed a liquor store at the age of sixteen, twice. There's nothing here, almost all of the girls come from good families. All the girls want to improve their lives from their current shitty status inside their country shitty country. All the girls worked really hard on their talents and their brains to get here into the Miss Starlit show. I don't see any type of variance within the personal files, sir."

Skippy nodded. "Please, investigate all the judges and the owner and his company next. I don't think we'll find anything there, but I don't want to overlook any tiny snow fakes," chuckling.

Fucner stood upright from the chair and slapped a chest with a smile. "You better start with me first. I have a mile of awards from certificates, ribbons, medals, trophies in sports and academics, being a scholar..."

SUSY-Q stood upright between the door and the side wall as the television square-shaped head lighted up in the colors of purpled and orange and droned in a female timber for all eardrums. "Fucner, Rector, he graduated from Birmingham University with a GPA of 2.03."

Cody turned and smiled at Fucner, "On a 3.0 scale, that's a low B letter grade, man."

The robot droned. "On the 4.0 scale at Birmingham University, that is a very poor C letter grade, Mr. Fucner."

Fucner turned with a sour frown and pointed to the robot. "Look. I got a big brain, making me smarter than you, you..."

Cody chuckled. "Actually, a big brain does not possess bigger complex mental thoughts or thinking processes. A good example, the caveman possessed some big ole gray matter along with bigger body parts than Fucner. As humans, we have evolved from the cavemen species into more cranial space, which is used for complex stuff like language, thinking, and memory, except for Fucner," he chuckled with Skippy and Islander. "When Albert Einstein died in the year 1955, they saved his brain. Scientists discovered that his brain matter was smaller than average but his parietal lobes were fifteen percent wider than normal. The parietal lobes link math abilities in the brain cells. The average brain weights three pounds..."

"The size of my dick," grinned Fucner.

Islander winked at Skippy. "Mine, too, man!"

Cody smiled. "We are the smartass creatures with a small brain. A sperm whale brain weighs seventeen pounds. An elephant brain is ten pounds. An owl brain weighs .005 pounds. A bull frog brain is one-tenth of .005 pounds."

Islander turned and smiled at the teen. "Cody, his parietal lobes are twenty-five percent wider than normal including Fucner's dick," he laughed with the others but Fucner.

"Thanks." Cody nodded. "Researchers have found the more you use your brain, the stronger it gets. You need to exercise by learning new skills or doing mental tasks, connecting the 100 billion brain cells, making you..."

"Long and hard," grinned Fucner, "Yeah! Both in my mind and my dick proportions," he chuckled with Skippy and Islander.

Cody laughed. "A good night's sleep allows your brain to store memories like driving a car and playing an instrument. A single night of sleep activity processes and stores all of our daily activities into a set of permanent memories. Your brain weighs two percent of your body mass, but it uses twenty-five percent of your body energy. The brain cells are always active, even sleeping."

Islander laughed. "Sleep more, Fucner! Eat less, Fucner!"

Cody nodded. "Meditation might help to improve your IQ, Fucner..."

"Teen-ass," Fucner stood upright from the chair with a growl at little teen-ass.

Skippy smiled. "Sit down, Fucner!"

Cody smiled. "Scientific studies have showed that a Buddhist monk who meditates have a big increase in brain concentration and decision making. And in the Bible, you are supposed to meditate too. Then, maybe Almighty God gives you a burst of more neurons..."

"I'll bust your nose, kid," sneered Fucner.

Skippy chuckled. "Calm down, Fucner! Cody is correct and cordial to entertain our cranial activity for the day, while we permanently store this memory tonight during our sleepy time."

Islander laughed. "I'll start with Fucner while getting the insignificant minor fake judges out of my head lights on tomorrow morning."
Friday July 30th

10:24 pm

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Unnamed white painted building

211 Clinton Avenue location

Conference room thirteen setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Fucner and Cody slapped each other on the back with a chuckle and entered the room.

Skippy sat inside the chair with a smile and watched the pair. "Do you have some fun today, gentlemen?"

Islander tapped on the paper folder with a sour frown. "They had too much fun today."

Fucner lifted both hands into the air with a smile. "Did you see the ass on Miss..."

SUSY-Q entered the room and toted a tray of food. The robot possessed a short blue dress of fabric with the correct measurement for a girly metal body of 36, 24, 38 and stopped, standing between two empty chairs, leaning over the hard surface and slid the tray of food onto the conference table in silence. She stood upright in place while waiting for the next order to obey from one of the team members. Cody took the chair at the head of the table. Fucner scooted around SUSY-Q and sat down into the chair with a grin at the robot. Skippy nodded to Cody and then Islander in silence.

Islander said. "Each girl is cleaner than a pair of angel wings. Each one is a good citizen just wanting to be Miss Starlit, save the planet, and feed all the children, and have a baby with a famous football quarterback..."

Fucner laughed. "Fuck! You're lying."

Islander said. "SUSY-Q verified all the data. I couldn't find one demerit on any one individual beauty pageant contestant, skipper."

Skippy nodded, "Lay off, Fucner! The pageant conducts had conducted its own investigation also, since one or all of the sponsors would have sued or worse stopped providing free stuff to the pageant. The pageant direction is very, very thorough and caution as well."

Fucner frowned. "You sound like the winner has been picked..." Silence invaded the room. Fucner gasped. "You sound like the winner of the Miss Starlit has been selected, skipper." Skippy nodded in silence. Fucner frowned. "Bullshit! This is a rigged pageant."

Skippy nodded. "No, the pageant director picks the most desirable and smartest and beautifuliest from all the girls with the most innocent background, not tainting the pageant's image or insulting the public's perception," grinning.

Cody laughed. "Spell that word, beautifuliest, for me, skipper," he chuckled, "B...e...a..."

Fucner exhaled. "Then the angle of killing the contestants is mute, they're all innocent and good..."

Skippy said. "The billionaire, his friends, and his employees are the next investigation along with all the sponsors who are associated with all the silver steel plated paper clips and cheap ass toilet paper. Islander will do that, too, today. Time for the interviewing each girl! Fucner and Cody, you go and man your individual station above the catwalk, overlooking the audience, watch each girl for any strange or weird behavior. Then, write her country name down. Is and SUSY-Q will double check her background and then give to the FBI for further criminal and non-criminal investigation. I will be spying and observing each judge for some weird-ass comments or behavior too. Is and SUSY-Q will double check the judges' backgrounds for any suspicious event, also."

Islander shook a skull with a stern face, "Nothing. Nada. Don't bother. All the judges are nice people with a nicer big bank account. I don't find any dirty laundry hanging down from a pair of nostrils or coming down a shitty butthole, skipper."

Skippy nodded. "Okay! So, we have checked everyone's butthole twice for a nasty Santa. So, that means the killer will do something during the pageant in front of the pretend television cameras and non-rolling video tapes inside the VBC. The billionaire owner does not want to be taped. Tomorrow is the pageant. We sit behind the last row within the celebrity judge box while looking good, being quiet, and keeping our ears open and eyes blinking. Do not embarrass me, Cody!"

"Me!" Cody turned and winked to Fucner.

Skipper frowned at Fucner, "Fucner!"

Fucner pointed with a smile at Cody, "Him? The kid will do it with his kiddie way. I'm a good boy," nodding.

Cody reached over and grabbed, tossing the pencil at nose profile of Fucner with an exact hit. "That is bullshit with a flock of big ugly flies."

Skippy nodded. "The winner has been selected. Each one of you look good and wipe your mouths from drooling, occasionally."

"I can do that," laughed Cody.
Saturday July 31st

City of Huntsville within the US State of Alabama

(90 miles, south, from Birmingham)

Hot temperatures with parted clouds of sunshine

04:03 pm

Unnamed white painted building

211 Clinton Avenue location

Classroom setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Each fake judge sat inside of one of writing tables inside the conference room within the 211 Clinton Avenue building location. Skippy sat at the teacher desk and sipped on a cold beverage with a smile. Cody appeared and stood inside the archway, scanning the room, holding a beer. "Where's O'honey?"

Skippy stood upright from the chair and moved ahead to each desk, handing a sheet piece of paper to each judge with a smile. "He's sick. I gave my permission to go home and rest," he moved back and sat down in the chair at the office desk with a smile. "Please, sit and suck down that beer that Fucner give you, Cody. Fucner, do not indulge the minor teen! Okay. I have a fun task while we wait for our début presentation at the Miss Starlit pageant, this evening. The show will begin in about one hour. I promise we will be finished by then."

Cody moved ahead and sat down at the desk, looking down with a smile, reading out loud the form with a chuckle. "What the fuck's this? Do you have extra nipples? Naw, hell," he laughed with the others.

Skippy smiled with a nod. "In keeping with good humor and poor taste, would you care to show me your only two nipples on your teen chest, Cody?"

Fucner frowned. "Why in the hell would Cody do that? I won't do that for a billion ducks or bucks or does or..."

"This..." Skippy tapped the eraser pencil on top of the paper with a smile. "This is a fun and creative exercise to blow off time, before we ride to the more exciting girly show."

Cody shook his curls with a smile. "That is not good enough, skipper. What do I get for showing my nakedness?"

"Money," Skipper nodded with a smile.

"I got money," Cody shook his curls with a laugh and a grin.

"A date with the newly crowned Miss Starlit," Skippy nodded with a grin.

Fucner shook a skull with a sour frown, "Stop bull shitting the teen-ass, skipper. No one knows the winner of the pageant tonight! Unless..."

"Unless, you are me," Skippy nodded with a grin. "I know the winner. She is Miss Andorra..."

Fucner gasped with parted lips, "The pretty French girl."

"The pretty French girl," Skippy nodded with a grin. "If you win my silly little game, I promise an evening with the new Miss Starlit at eleven o'clock until sunrise tomorrow morning inside her private hotel room. But, you gotta leave her at five in the morning."

Cody flipped a hand with a grin. "Fuck, naw! I don't believe him."

Fucner stood upright from the chair and ripped of the military jacket with a smile and a nod. "I do wanna a piece of that fine ass."

Cody turned and gasped at semi-naked Fucner. "What...what the hell are you doing, Fucner?"

Fucner removed his shirt with a grin and a nod in silence to Skippy. Skippy chuckled with Islander. Alvin swung around inside the chair to see Fucner with a sour face.

Skippy pointed with a chuckle at Fucner. "I do believe Rector wants the late evening through sun rise with Miss Andorra..."

"Ah naw!" Cody stood upright from the chair with a smile and ripped off the US military jacket and then the shirt, exposing a naked chest with a nod. "She ain't no set of big tits, Fucner. You said that you liked a pair of big breasts. Your top fifteen were the big tits of each international girl."

Fucner stood upright in fine semi-nakedness and flexed a pair of biceps with a smile in silence. Islander and Skippy laughed. Fucner grinned. "She has got a tight ass and pretty in her face and her tallness. She's taller than Alvin."

"I wanna to fuck her." Cody frowned.

"I wanna fuck her, too. So, the best man wins the prize, teen-ass Cody," Fucner reached down and fiddled with each nipple on the chest, "One. Two. I got two nipples. See? I don't have any more. I got question one correct."

Skippy nodded with a smile and wrote down with the pencil on top of the piece of paper. "Okay. Fucner won the first question."

Cody parted the lips. "What the fuck? I stripped naked too. See? My two nipples, not many, or extra or three or four," he fondled each nipple with a sissy giggle and a grin.

Skippy lifted the pencil into the air. "I have two challengers."

Fucner moved ahead and stopped, standing over the young male, kicking a boot toe at the stationary desk. "Get your ass up, Alvin! Be a man and play the manly game too," he turned and grinned at Islander. "Islander is too proper to participate in a redneck reindeer game." Islander turned and smiled at Fucner in silence.

Cody danced both hips side to side in a standing position with a smile. "I got some additional information, skipper. Additional information should count towards the winner of each posed question, too."

"Ah naw! Ah naw, now!" Fucner reached down into the jacket for his mobile telephone and whipped it into a face. He typed on the tiny screen for more bonus information also, since the teen-ass was too smart for his dull neurons.

Cody leaned down with a grin and whipped out his mobile telephone also, accessing the internet in silence. The room was invaded with silence. Islander sat the desk with a chuckle and a wink at Skippy. Skippy tapped on the paper with the pencil eraser with a chuckle at Islander.

Alvin exhaled with a sour frown and watched the television monitor with wiggling lines of silver and black static until time to leave for the pageant.

Cody read out loud from the mobile telephone with a smile. "Some folks have more than two nipples. One percent of females have more than one nipple. Two percent of males have more than two nipples. That's twice, not nice," he chuckled. "The extra nipple is smaller than the regular one, showing up on the shoulders or legs like a wart or mold," he turned and smiled at Fucner, narrowing the eyelids. "Fuck! Fucner has got a black colored mole on his chest or three nipples on his chest."

Islander tossed both arms into the air with a laugh. "Shit! Cody wins it all," he chuckled with Cody and Skippy.

Fucner read the mobile telephone with a growl. "I don't got no black colored mole on my chest, mole-turd."

Cody looked down with a laugh and read loud out his mobile telephone. "The extra nipples can form on the forehead or a foot for a fucking ugly girl or a nasty guy. I win, because I do not have a fucking extra nipple on my face or my chest like fucking ass mole decorated Fucner."

Skippy nodded with a smile at both soldiers. "Cody is still the winner."

Fucner lifted a palm with a chuckle and read out loud the information on the mobile telephone for all eardrums. "Hold the judgment, skipper! The areola or the dark skin around your nipple can possess a few small hairs. If the hair bothers her licking motion, then clip them with a pair of small scissors. Don't pluck or shave the hairs! Or it will cause ingrown hairs or infection around your nipples," chuckling.

Skippy nodded with a laugh. "I redact. Fucner is the new winner."

Cody shook his curls with a laugh. "Ah naw! I got a better info-sex advice. Nipple orgasms, playing with your nipples, will fire up the nerves inside the areola, creating some great self-fucking excitement."

Skippy nodded with a laugh. "Cody is the new winner."

Alvin chuckled at the television screen of wiggling silver and black lines. "A breast is an organ with the sole purpose of producing milk for a baby, rednecks. A female has lobules inside her breast that carries the milk to the nipple. Note: Males don't have lobules or breastfeed any baby creature. When are we leaving for the pageant, Skippy?"

Skippy pointed with a chuckle at the young male. "Alvin is the new winner."

"Hell no!" Fucner shook a skull. "I got an outstanding one. A female breast weighs between five and seven pounds..."

"My dick weighs twelve ounces," smiled Islander. "I think Fuck-it means to use the tiny measurement of ounces, not pounds."

"Fuck you, Is!" Fucner frowns. "A female breast full of milk weights seventeen ounces over one pound," he smiled. "Jeezus, I wanna suck on a pregnant beauty queen's tits."

"They don't exist in this or any other beauty pageant, Fucner." Islander laughed. "The girls are single and non-pregnant as stated by the contest rules, dumbass," he chuckled with Cody.

Skippy pointed with a laugh at the young male. "Alvin is still the winner."

Cody tossed an arm, holding the mobile telephone with the other hand, frowning with frustration. "Naw! Sagging tits are the result of getting old. As your breast tissue ages, it loses firmness and elasticity making them twin babies droop down to the floor, mama," he reached over and fist bumped with Fucner.

"The winners are both Cody and Fucner." Skippy nodded with a laugh.

Alvin smiled at the wiggling lines of the television screen. "Females are not happy with their breast tissues. Breast augmentation is the number one cosmetic surgical procedure in the US. Breast implants have increased by thirty-seven percent. Breast lifts have grown by seventy percent, since last year."

Cody chuckled with a nod. "I love any size of tits big, small, tiny, medium."

Skippy chuckled. "Cody wins question number one."

Fucner frowned. "Fuck it," he leaned over the desk and read out loud the next typed question from the piece of paper with a smile. "Is it normal for my penis to hang to one side?" he laughed with the others and wiped the eyes with tears of humor, turning to smile at Cody. "What side does your dick hang, boy?" He reached down and unzipped the trousers, dropping the pants down to the ankles.

Cody reached down and unzipped the trousers, bending down at the kneecaps and then peeked inside the underwear briefs with a smile. "My penis is shriveled up like a dead worm now. Let's see. My right testicle is a little bigger than the left. The left ball hangs a little lower than the right one."

"Ah shit! I'm normal, too," Islander was standing upright and bend both kneecaps, shaking his legs, peeking down into the underwear briefs with a laugh for fun. His trousers were unzipped at the waistline but not dropped down to the ankles like Cody and Fucner.

Fucner bend both kneecaps and shook both legs, peeking down into the underwear briefs with a smile. "I am beautiful, babe. I hang so pretty and pink to the right, to the left, to the right, to the left..."

Skippy nodded with a laugh. "It is a three-way tie for question number two."

Islander stood upright and zipped the trousers, leaning over and read out loud the third question from the single piece of paper with a laugh. "When did you have your first erection, Fucner?"

Fucner tossed both arms in the air and rotated both hips, looking down at his penis. "I'm having one right now with all this dirty sex talk like when I was nine years old with Mary Lou Gordon on the third grade playground behind the well-water house. The two of us roamed four hands inside our underwear," he turned and winked to Cody. "Top that hot shot!"

Skippy chuckled. "You're a slow sucker, Fucner. The answer is at the age of twelve months or one-year-old."

Fucner turned and gasped at Skippy. "What the fuck? I jacked off at one-year-old in my mama's hands. That's just wrong. So wrong. So wrong. So wrong..."

Cody read out loud from the mobile telephone. "A baby male is born with a full erection. You can see them on the ultrasound screen inside the mother's womb. Yeehaw! I'm a male stud at gestation. A male baby can erect during a diaper change too," he laughed with the others.

Skippy nodded with a laugh. "Cody wins the third question."

Cody continued to read out loud from the mobile telephone. "The average length of an erect penis is seven to nine inches."

Islander smiled. "Cody got the right mathematical measure. Fucner dreams in his nasty imagination and then says nasty shit like his dick might come and appear in Titan god portions on planet Earth."

Cody smiled. "A lot of guys like Fucner think they're smaller than normal."

"Fuck it, Cody!" Fucner turned and growled at the nose profile of the teenager.

"Calm down, Fucner!" Skippy laughed.

Cody read out loud from the phone with a chuckle. "The viewing angle from above, below, or sideways tells everything. If you look down at your erected dick, then it looks stubby and smaller than Fucner's," he chuckled with the others. Fucner sneered. Cody grinned. "When a male has an obsession of smallness, it is called penile dysmorphic disorder. It is similar to when a girl thinks she looks fat, she becomes anorexia."

Islander leaned down in the underwear briefs with the trousers don at the ankles, reading out loud the next question from the single piece of paper with a smile. "How long does your penis erection last, Fucner?"

Fucner stood upright in the boxer briefs with the trousers down at the ankles, looking up with a smile to see the ceiling and then Islander. "About three hours and twenty minutes..."

"Only, if a spider bites his dick, then it gets a fang or two stuck into the outer skin," Cody turned and chuckled at the nose profile of Fucner.

"A cold shower can reduce the swelling, sir." Islander turned and laughed at the nose profile of Fucner.

"Or you can climb the staircase and then draw the blood away from your erected penis, boy." Skippy winked with a chuckle.

Fucner wiggled the shoe over the floor with a chuckle. "The bigger a male's feet, the longer the dick. How big is your foot, without the boot toe, Cody?"

Cody chuckled, "Wrong, dude! The size of your dick has no direct relationship to the size of your foot, your hand, a single finger, your nose, or a snotty booger, Fucner. If you are overweight, then you cannot see your dick when it is hidden by the fat of your beer belly."

Islander read out from the mobile telephone with the internet information. "So, if you wanna make your dick look bigger, then you should lose some weight or get some immediate medical surgery, Fucner. A single surgery procedure makes your penis longer, thicker, and juicy," he chuckled with the others.

Skippy laughed with a nod. "Is wins the question."

Fucner turned and pointed with a sour frown at Islander. "Ah naw! Is ain't even almost naked like me and Cody. Take off your pants, Is!"

Islander turned and smiled with a sissy girly tone to see Fucner. "I am not that kind of girl, sir," he winked at Cody. "Hit me up tomorrow, Cody! You're cute as a bug compared to the thirty something mushy marshmallow man."

Fucner frowned, "Mushy marshmallow man!? I have ten erections when I sleep and dream about fucking numerous pretty chicks."

Islander leaned over the desk and read out loud the next question with a laugh. "Do you masturbate?"

Fucner nodded with a smile. "Every time, I see a female while easing out that great big pain, sir."

"Cold shower would help that problem too." Islander laughed.

Skippy nodded with a smile to Fucner. "And you can walk up the stairs also."

Alvin smiled. "Masturbation is not a healthy motion for your penis and your tiny sperms, gentlemen. Intercourse allows the semen to flood voluminous with healthy sperm during vigorous sex acts which comes from the Medical Journal of Science, Issue number fourteen, page number thirty-two..."

"Fuck!" Fucner laughed at the brown colored rear hairy skull of Alvin. "Who the hell talks like that with the fancy word, intercourse? Men have sex with sexy girls, doing sexy acts..."

"Okay. Okay. Settle down. Shut up," Skippy chuckled. "This is the last question."

"Who is winning the fuck last night date with the French girl? The answer is me," Cody reached up and slapped a naked chest with a smile.

Skippy nodded with a smile to each face. "You are all tied, so far. So listen up, very carefully. Who has a set of goose bumps on the shaft of your penis or one or both of your hairy balls?"

Cody looked down with a smile and peeked at his hairy balls. "I do."

Fucner looked down into the boxer briefs with a grin and peeked down at his penis and his hairy balls, "Me, too."

Islander views his penis, smiling. "I do not. The tiny bumps are rings of pimples or ingrown hairs. Lots of males have them like these two unsanitary boys on my right. If you possess goose bumps around the head of the penis, it is called the pearly penile papules or PPP," he chuckled with the others.

Fucner danced side to side in the boxer underwear with a laugh, "PPP, too."

Cody danced side to side in the yellow colored cartoon character brief underwear with a laugh and a smile, "PPP to you."

Fucner danced side to side with a clap and a smile, "PPP to UUU, too."

Cody danced and clapped with a laugh, "PPP to UUU too and DDD too, too."

Skippy chuckled with a smile. "Do you have goose bumps on your dick, Alvin?"

Alvin smiled at Skippy. "No."

Fucner leaned over with a chuckle and a whisper into the cheekbone of Cody. "Is the young man with a sissy name a homo in disgust and disguise?"

Cody frowned. "I..."

Alvin smiled at Skippy. "Did you know that babies are born without kneecaps? The babe inside the womb has a kneecap of cartilage that becomes bony later in life. On a girl, the kneecaps become boney at the age of three years old. On a boy, it is at the age of four years old. There is a great big distinction between a boy and a girl from the birth conception created by Almighty God."

Islander did not dance but smiled at Skippy. "A dog has two kneecaps which are located in the hind legs. Like humans, dogs can have a set of knee problems too. A dog can tear the tissue that supports the kneecap by jumping off the sofa with a bad landing."

Skippy stood upright and bounced on both kneecaps with a sigh. "Protect your knees by warming up stretches or walking before a sports game. If the large muscle in the front of the thigh is tight, then the kneecap gets pushed up against the thighbone. Tight muscles force your muscles to work harder and cause great pain."

Fucner stopped the dance with a confused brow. "O skipper, what are you doing walking around without the walking cane?"

Skippy smiled. "Sometimes, my old kneecaps pop or crack. My old ligaments tighten when I move..."

The television screen blinked into life. The real pageant judge named O'Hanlon sat and smiled inside the wheelchair on top of the pageant stage beside the standing young girl.

The young girl reached over and placed a sparkling tiara on top of the blonde hair of the young child as the audience stood upright from the seats and clapped with loud cheers. The blonde headed child waved both hands with a smile of excitement as the first princess of the night in the Miss Starlit Pageant.

Cody stopped the dance and frowned at the television screen. "Hey! There's a kid on the pageant stage of the VBC. Why is there a kid there on top of the stage? I thought that the competition was only for the adult international sexy girls. That is not an adult beauty queen, but a child princess at age seven. Why is there a seven years old in a beauty pageant?"

"A southern belle requirement, her mama shoves the tiny kid into the pageant after she shits out the first turd inside the set of dirty diapers which mama quickly cleans out before the crowning event, making the kid pretty and precious. This is a beauty competition from ages three too twenty-three-year-old pretty and precious females," Alvin smiled at the television screen.

Cody looked down with a puzzled brow at the mobile telephone, reading out loud the new information for all eardrums, "Children! The Starlit Princess is for little baby girls from ages one-year-old to seventeen years old."

Skippy moved ahead and stopped, standing in front Alvin with a smirk, whipping out the hand pistol, aiming it at the nose bridge on the face of Alvin. "There is a diamond between the curved wires of metal, sitting on the first winner of the Miss Starlit pageant. You missed an opportunity of a life time, jewelry thief. No fucking matter! You can fuckingly steal anything and everything inside one of Alabama's bestest prisons, if you live long enough to steal."

Cody moved ahead with a gasp at the television screen. "O gawd, the tiara is the trigger mechanism. The radiating metal flakes inside the crown hair band are capturing the electronic particle beams from O'Hanlon's electronic wheelchair. His chair is composed to tiny electronic impulses that are bombarding the air waves which are invisible to a naked eye," he stopped and stood in place, pointing at the screen. "Toss up the electronic grid of the VBC, SUSY-Q!" A red colored grid displayed over the television screen of the live people of the pageant. He gasped. "See the red waves drift down from the ceiling? My gawd, the bombs are housed on the ceiling and underneath the floor of the VBC. See? The red wave pattern drifts down from the ceiling and up from the floor when the blue and red collide. Boom!"

Fucner lifted and kissed the mobile telephone to a face, hearing the ringing tone of the head of the FBI leader.

On the television screen, the sparkling tiara exploded into the air. Her two eyeballs fly into the different and soared into two different directions throughout the air waves while an array of numerous individual tiny and large chucks of her head skull launched into the air and then fell down onto the stage. The upright body of the seven-year-old girl wobbled side to side and then fell forward down into the audience as a series of explosions sounded and produced an array of colorful fires.

Around the edge of the wall, all the exit doors slammed shut with a set of deep thuds as the audience and the contestants scream with fear while trapped inside with the heated fires. Then the television turned into a set of wiggling silver and gray static lines.

Cody dropped open a mouth. "Shit!"

Fucner dropped open a mouth. "Fuck!"

Islander dropped his mouth open, "Damn!"

Alvin sat inside the chair with a smile. "I'm a judge and a soldier. Do you remember, Skippy?"

Skippy smiled with a nod and pointed the cold barrel at the face of Alvin. "I'm the military solider who carry around a live weapon. Get up, son!"

Alvin smiled inside the chair. "I like it right here, sir."

Cody reached down and pulled up the trousers, zipping the pants and moved ahead standing beside the rear skull of Alvin with a sneer.

Skippy frowned down at Alvin. "Don't kill him, Cody!"

Cody reached down and slapped both hands onto the collar bone of Alvin with a growl. "I ain't going to kill the bastard. I'm going to stretch his gawd damn neck. Do you wanna be six feet and four inches? Right, shorty?"

Fucner lifted up and zipped the trousers, dashing around and stood on the other side of Alvin, shaking the chair. "Get up, kid!"

Skippy sneered at Alvin. "Do not harm him, Fucner!"

Fucner growled. "I only wanna see him die and then descend into hell."

Islander zipped up the trousers with a growl and moved ahead, stopping and stood beside Cody. "I wanna give a nose bleed and then a bloody beating following, skipper."

Alvin slowly stood upright from the chair and held upright both arms, swinging around with a wink to see the other soldier, turning a grin to see Fucner. "Rector Fucner, I bet no one teased you. Or if they did you then you beat the shit out of them. Or did you fuck his dick?"

Fucner dropped open a mouth. "I ain't gay."

Islander nodded with a smile. "Alvin is gay."

Alvin mouth spat the saliva over the lips with fury. "I am not gay. I am a man."

Skippy reached over and held a flat palm over the brown colored hair roots of Alvin with a smile and a nod. "Yes, he is the right height," he reached down and grabbed, entwining the fingers around one of the raised palm of Alvin with a mile. "Yes, he has the right grip," he leaned over and smiled into the lips of Alvin. "Yes, he has the right smell. Dorothy wanted revenge for not winning Miss Starlit with envy when her pretty friend Amber defeated the bitch both fair and square. Let's see. What are the seven deadly sins? Lust, avarice, envy, pride, sloth, gluttony and wrath..."

"You represent as pride." Islander frowned with annoyance at Alvin.

"Dorothy's envy worked better than her monetary compensation. The hidden bomb inside the cavern left nothing but more ribbed and ribbon body parts, paying for her sex change operation," Skippy smiled.

Alvin spun around with a sneer to face Skippy. "Every gender reassignment costs money, lots of money as one hundred thousand US dollars not counting the physical deformations that needed correcting. The medical problems that needed serviced and the many patient visits to the team of US physicians plus the rental apartment and a private nurse to care for a disabled gal. But it was all worth it, the new me."

Fucner reached out with a smile and shoved Alvin on the shoulder. "How big is your dick, girlfriend?"

Alvin turned and smiled at Fucner. "It is big enough to fuck your asshole, boyfriend!"

"So, you adopted a Yankee accent from a Southern twang. You colored your brunette to dirty blonde. You had salon tanned your body from bright pale to light bronze and even added a pair of colored eye contacts of blue to cover your once pretty hazel pupils. But, you cannot change your height," Skippy nodded with a stern face.

Cody lifted both hands and slapped the back spine of Alvin with a growl. "A steel rod up the spine will do the trick, buddy. Lemme me add them suckers without any type of pain-killing anesthesia. I will grow you up to my height, if you don't mind, Dr. Skippy," he leaned over with a grin and fist bumped with a chuckle to Fucner.

Fucner turned and frowned at Islander. "How did you know, Is?"

"If it walks and talks like a duck, it must be a girl," Cody chuckled.

Islander smirked with a nod. "You should have gotten some acting lessons, instead of voice lessons, Dorothy. Men strut. Girls priss. Alvin acted more like a sissy high school girl rather than a hot sexy female which I did fuck last night."

"So, you cannot change the weight, either. Dorothy was five feet and three inches and already on the slender side. With the direct substitution of male hormones, burning all the womanly fat away, it made her skinner like a puppy runt within the dog litter," Skippy chuckled.

"Can take the woman out the bod but not the woman out of the man," chuckled Cody.

Skipper sneered, "Take SUSY-Q! Go and see if you can help any of the victims at the VBC, boys. I'm stay here with the girl-man."

The overhead lights flecked off and then the building shook side to side. The explosion rocked the building and then the overhead lights turned white and black. Fucner lost balance and hit Islander and then they both slammed into the side wall and landed down on top of each other over the floor with a set of loud grunts.

Alvin dropped down and fell onto the floor, swiftly turning and crawled towards the open door as he has planned and prepared.

Skippy stumbled backward from Alvin and fell against the edge of the office desk, hitting a back spine on top of the hard surface and bounced upright, standing with a grunt. He wobbled side to side in pain, shaking a dizzy head to see and to think. The overhead lights brightened again as the building stopped shaking. Cody, Islander, and Fucner slowly stood upright from the floor, wobbling side to side.

Skippy cleared the blurry eye vision and turned, chasing after Alvin, moving through the open archway with a dizzy head and a yell. "Go and get to the VBC! Help anyone there! I'm running down Alvin." Alvin stood upright and turned, dashing down an empty hallway, skipping over the large and small pieces of broken ceiling plaster over the floor.

Fucner slowly moved out the open archway and wiped blood from the bitten lip with a sneer, exiting the conference room.

Islander moved ahead and wiped off the dust from a face, jogging out the open door with a stern face. "Alvin can't escape from the building through the rear doors. The doors are locked and maybe permanently damaged from the earthquake of the bomb explosion at the VBC campus. Let's go! I'm driving the team and the pickup truck towards the VBC campus to assist, if possible."

Cody moved ahead in pain and wiped off the blood from a face. "The old building structure is both a tornado evacuation site and a radiation bunker for a nuclear blast and another emergency center for a disaster with modern day equipment. We are lucky!" He jogged forward and exited the conference room, following behind the ass of Fucner.

Lunch room interior setting

Man-made cold air temperatures

and semi-dark empty environment

Skippy turned and ran down the dirty hallway, leaping over object, chasing down Alvin into the lunchroom. The overhead lights blinked into darkness and then into an array of dull light inside the hallway and the other room. Skippy slammed forward into the rotating lunchroom door with a face and ricocheted backward in a folded body, lifting and grabbed a bloody nose with both hands and a soft moan, falling down over the floor with a loud grunt. The door swung backward and forward from a tall and heavy impact of the human body.

Inside the semi-dark lunchroom, Alvin stood in front of the rotating door with a grin and spun around, dashing ahead and deeper into the darkness of the lunch room. Then, he stopped and stumbled down over the floor, avoiding a collision with the rolling table that flew in front of his foot path, landing on top of the hard floor with a loud grunt. The rolling table continued the same pathway and hit the far wall with a booming sound.

Inside the darken hallway, Skippy slowly stood upright from the floor with a sideways wobble and slowly limped through the rotating door with a grunt, seeing a rolling table. The moving table was heading towards him. He stumbled to the side and hit the wall, falling down over the floor in dizziness on top of a chest. The table continued the motion and hit the forward wall with a loud crash, stopping in place. Skippy looked up with a pair of blurry eyeball through the darkness and saw two figures.

The two figures stood upright and faced each other in the middle of the semi-dark lunchroom. Alvin stared down with a slight smirk at black colored hair roots of the short male.

The short male looked down with a smirk and pointed down at the kneecap of Alvin, saying with a sissy tenor. "Your kneecap is called the patella, a small bone in front of your knee. There are four separate bones that come together at the knee, the thighbone, the shinbone, the calf bone, and the kneecap. It connects the muscles to the bone and other muscles by ligaments. As you bend and straighten your leg, your kneecap gets pulled up and down. Your knees are the largest joints in the body. Each time you walk, the force of your two knees is six times greater than your weight. Being overweight increases the stress on your knees, thus this is not good. Take a knee, boy!" He raised a kneecap and kicked Alvin within the guts of stomach with a loud grunt. Alvin bent forward without falling down onto the floor with a huff of sour air. The short male sneered down over the brown colored hair roots of Alvin. "That is called a quarterback kneel which happens within the game of football to protect the football as the clock runs out of time to win the event game. You did not win the game for me, Alvin."

Alvin moaned in pain and held both hands over the injured guts with a sissy whine, "Brone."

Brone leaned down and slammed the nail hammer head into the right kneecap of Alvin. Alvin dropped down and landed on top of the floor on a back spine in screams of pain. Brone leaned over Alvin with a smile in the darkness. The white of his teeth shined in the blackness of the dark room. He leaned down and slammed the nail hammer head into the non-injured kneecap of Alvin with a growl. "Does your knee pop all the time? If your knee hurts when it pops, then you need to see a physician immediately." Alvin cuddled both busted kneecaps with a loud scream and sobs of fear.

Skippy watched the vile torment of Alvin and as he rested on top of the dirty floor out of sight but not hearing range.

Brone leaned over the folded body of Alvin with a smile. "Maybe, you should work in a job that reduces the swelling around the kneecap like a pilot or a nurse. A plumber is the worse worker for getting an inflamed sac around the kneecap. A flower gardener has this problem, such as, a wrestler, a football, a basketball player. You're too short for a basketball player, Alvin," he chuckled. "Maybe, in your next job, you can wear a set of protective gear on both your knees like a pair of kneepads. Or you can visit with an orthopedic surgeon for your blown kneecap. The currently licensed orthopedic surgeons perform more than 600,000 knee replacement surgeries per year. The number is expected to grow to three million by the year 2030," he stood upright with a smile and whipped out a hand pistol with a smile to Alvin. "However, you will not live to see the year 2030," exhaling. "I will miss you, shebo." He fired a single bullet from a gun with a silencer into the pumping heart of Alvin. The folded body curled and then slumped to the side onto the hard tile, quiet and still. Brone back stepped and spun around to face the rotating door with a smile, moving ahead and veered to the side wall, stopping and stood over Skippy.

Skippy lifted both palms in self-defense, as best as, he could see within the darkness of the lunchroom. His nose and lips bleed over the floor from a bruised face.

Brone smiled with a set of shiny teeth within the semi-dark lunchroom. "Today is not your day to die, sir. Enjoy your evening," he back stepped and spun around to face the rotating door, exiting out the lunchroom.

Skippy slumped down over the floor and closed the eyelids, hearing the distance. A set of loud emergency sirens on top of all the emergency vehicles rolled down the roadway on the busy city street.
Monday August 2nd

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

09:01 am

Unnamed white painted building

211 Clinton Avenue location

Conference room thirteen setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Cody appeared and stood inside the archway, holding the cold bottle of beer. "Good morning, guys!"

He sat at the conference table, "In the morning, Cody?" Fucner looked up with a frown to see Cody.

Islander sat at the end of the conference room table with a smile and a nod to Cody. "Is it a good morning? Are we still employed by Skippy and his secret sugar mama? I like being a FDA agent but this secret spy stuff is funner along with my new big bank account. I can get used to this type of butt-thinking and babysitting work," he leaned over and fist bumped with Fucner.

Fucner turned with a smile and ordered to the stationary robot inside wall corner between the door frame and the wall. "SUSY-Q, can you round up some hungry men a pot of coffee and an array of breakfast items from cereal to muffins. Thank you, honey!"

The robot droned in a female soprano. "Yes sir, Mr. Fucner!"

She spun around and moved ahead, leaving the conference room.

Fucner exhaled at the empty archway. "Why does she call Is, Mr. Islander; Cody, Mr. Cody; Skippy, Captain Skippy, and then me, Mr. Fucner, not Mr. Rector."

Islander laughed with a nod. "Someone enjoys fucking your ass, Fucner, and has a set of excellent computer hacker skills which might could be similar to young teen-ass Cody,"

"Wait, SUSY-Q!" Cody moved ahead and stopped, placing the bottle of cold beer on top of the conference table, back stepping and spun around with a smile, moving back to the robot. He ripped off the first of three oversized T-shirts and stopped, standing in front of the robot, lifting and shifting the shirt over her naked smooth metal body with a sour frown. "She can't be roaming around in naked metal," he reached down and pulled off the belt, lifting and bucked it around her waist, wiggling both palms in the air with a nod and a grin. "Now, SUSY-cutie is a decent sweet southern belle. You can leave for the food trays, now, darling."

The robot droned in a female soprano on the television squared head of wiggling red and purple lines. "Thank you, Mr. Cody," then it moved ahead and turned, strolling out the conference room towards the kitchen with the new command from Fucner.

Cody back stepped and spun around, moving towards an empty chair next to Fucner as they all laughed with the amusing event.

Islander continued to sit and tapped on top of the paper folder at the table, waiting for the others to sit down, exhaling with a sigh of intrigue and said to the nose profile of Cody and Fucner. "I have found more information on Brone or Brone Angel. I'm not joking about the celestial name either. His name is registered as an illegal alien in the great State of Alabama right here within the city of Huntsville. Brone is an independent vendor under the company name of Heavenly Incorporated," he moaned with the others. "He has created a website where an average citizen in the USA or anyone living on planet Earth can measure the invisible outer space pings or OSP from the outer space radiation that bombards the human body during the day or the night. The website is updated in real time, every minute of the day or night."

SUSY-Q entered the conference room and held a tray of food items, stopping and stood over the conference table, sliding the tray in front of Fucner. Each male stood or leaned over and gather both a beverages and a plate of food items, sitting back down.

Islander chewed and mouth spat food particles over the plate and the table. "SUSY-Q, please access the web site which is called Heavenly Incorporated and then read us out loud all the contents," he chewed and swallowed the food with a smile, diving into the muffin and ate.

SUSY-Q slowly turned and projected a colored image on the white paint of the side wall, droning in a female timber. "I am displaying the web site with blue, yellow, and green cosmic clouds and the words in white which read Heavenly Incorporated in the middle of the viewing screen on the white wall. Heavenly Incorporated has created a website where an average citizen in the USA or anyone living on planet Earth can measure the invisible outer space pings or OSP from the outer space radiation that bombards the human body during the day or the night. The website is updated in real time, every minute of the day or night.

"Outer space radiation comes down from outer limits of space. The outer space radiation comes down from outer space by gravity and then swirls around a human body, whizzing by and pinging against the delicate human epidermis, not like a dust storm. The outer space radiation particles are invisible..."

Fucner mouth spat food particles with laugh over the plate and the table. "The robot likes the website too."

SUSY-Q droned in a female timber. "The outer space radiation exposure is not like a tiny stone pebble or a speck of dirt but a great risk to the human body. The human body receives tons of ions of radiation dots that do not bounce off the human epidermis. The ions zing through the human body, leaving a trace of damage to your individual DNA strands. The ions of radiation are composed of tiny bits and pieces of atoms that flung off from the aftermath of supernovas which is composed of proton atoms of hydrogen. These ion particles travel around your galaxy at the speed of light and then hit your body..."

"Enough with outer space, SUSY-Q!" Cody swallowed the food with a smile. "Thanks! Do you have any more information about the website?"

SUSY-Q droned in a female timber. "The OSP devise is a sophisticated ionized particle collector. One unit of an absorbed dose of ionized radiation particles is equal to one milli-rad. The normal set of background radiation particles within the United States of America or the world varies from 50 to 200 millirads which depends upon the city or country where you reside..."

Fucner pointed to the picture of the devise on the painted wall of white with a laugh. "It is a one dollar and twenty-nine cents nail brush. My dad used one to clean the dirt out from his nails, after plowing the back forty acres of cotton..."

SUSY-Q droned in a female timber. "One unit of an absorbed dose of ionized radiation particles is equal to one milli-rad. The normal set of background radiation particles within the United States of America or the world vary from 50 to 200 millirads which depends upon the city or country where you reside. A typical medical chest radiology X-ray is eight millirads. A typical hip medical radiological X-ray is 20 millirads. A typical medical cat scanning of the head is less than one millirads..."

"Because, humans ain't got no brain matter to scan, anyways," Fucner chewed the food and stared at the stark white paint wall that held the electronic website of the Heavenly Incorporated.

SUSY-Q droned in the female timber. "A typical medical cat scanning of the abdomen is 3.5 millirads. A typical medical radiology scan of 100 millirads during pregnancy will lead to the death of the embryo..."

Cody chewed and swallowed the food, exhaling with a nod. "We got it, SUSY-Q. Thanks! Skip the milli-rad counts. What else is there?"

SUSY-Q droned in the female timber. "A human body can absorb 360 millirads during a solar year and be considered safe and sound on planet Earth. I am displaying the attached OSP detector map for the world." The wall changed and then showed the countries in the world with a set of round red colored dots with a math number in yellow tint. The robot droned. "The red colored dot stands over your city or your country and then translates into the number of deadly radioactive ions above and beyond the safety level possible for human survival. If your OSP pings are higher than 360 within your designated city or your country, you should consider with concern and move to another lower radiation level on planet Earth..."

Cody chewed and swallowed the food with a confused brow at the world electronic map on the white painted wall. "Why does the city of Austin in the US State of Texas have a measurement of nine pings of OSP?"

SUSY-Q droned in a female timber. "The University of Texas inside the city of Austin operates a nuclear reactor for research purposes on the academic campus which is among a population of 1.7 million people..."

Cody mouth spat out the used food particles. "Wait a minute! The university inside the city of Austin has a live and breathing nuclear reactor..."

SUSY-Q droned in a female timber. "One of the first experiences of nuclear blasting and radiation fallout was located on a remote island within the South Pacific which was called Bikini Island, where the hydrogen bomb was exploded. The island was vacated by all the living and breathing inhabitants. Then, the USA blew a big hole within the center of it and then turned an island into an atoll."

Islander chuckled with a nod at the website. "The entire shoreline of the west coast of the USA is another time bomb, waiting and watching to explode, when the constant Jet Stream blows up and then down radiation particles from the meltdown of the Fukushima Nuclear Plant. Did you know that the Fukushima foreign government has created an electronic track map of the radiation particles that are heading straight to the US State of California?"

Fucner chewed and swallowed the food with a sour frown, staring at the electronic map on the wall. "The elevation of land affects the distribution of the radioisotopes which in turn will affect the entire world supply of viable crops and then our food chain. Think about that one, people?"

Cody frowned at the electronic map on the wall. "Wait a minute!" He reached down and pulled out the mobile telephone, typing on the tiny screen.

Fucner mouth spat more food particles with a laugh at the electronic map on the wall, "His favored phrase for the morning."

Islander chewed and swallowed the food with a stern face. "This is all bullshit. I learned in my seventh grade physical science class that planet Earth has a defense mechanism which protects us, earthlings on top of the Bama soil from any invisible impacting radiation ions. Earth's magnetic field pushes away the particles or blocks them from coming into our atmosphere."

SUSY-Q droned in a female timber. "When the outer space radiation ions collide into the human body, the atoms break apart and expose more radiation energy. As each ion collides and then break the atom, the radiation ion become more dangerous to the human body. The ions do not stop coming..."

Cody pointed with a confused brow at the electronic map on the white painted wall. "The OSP ping map is nothing but a set of present nuclear sites of radiation monitoring the radiation stations throughout the USA. And environmental radiation comes from two sources, the earth's crust, the air waves, and outer space..."

"That's three sources, redneck," laughed Fucner.

SUSY-Q droned in a female timber. "The best example of radiation risk is during space flights into outer space. When an astronaut is exposed to 15 millirads, he develops cataracts, which are permanent changes within the lenses of the human eyeball..."

"Cut that shit off, SUSY-Q," frowned Fucner. "Thanks for your information. Bye, bye, SUSY-Q." SUSY-Q spun around and faced the open archway in silence with a set with wiggling lines of silver static on her television head, slowly marching ahead and exited the conference room to store outside inside the dark hallway until her services were needed.

Islander shook a skull with a sigh. "What a joke?" He sipped the coffee.

Fucner laughed, "A heavenly joke..."

Skippy appeared and stood inside the archway with a loud grunt.

Islander turned and smiled at Skippy, "Morning, skipper! How ya feeling today?"

Skippy limped inside on the walking cane with a loud grunt and a sour frown. "You shouldn't ever fool Mother Nature, ya know?" he exhaled with a sigh of pain.

Fucner smiled with a nod. "Is that walking cane real this time?"

Skippy limped to the table and stopping, standing and pulled out the chair, sitting down with a deep huff of pain and a sour frown. "Yeah, I need it for today," he grunted with a grin, reaching over and prepared a plate of food and a cup of coffee with another grunt. "Thanks for breakfast! I need that too," he sat back with a sigh and ate the plate of food, chewing.

Islander sipped and swallowed the beverage with a smile. "Why did Brone save you or not save you, skipper?"

Skippy chewed and swallowed the food with a nod, tapping on the coffee cup with a stern face. "I owe each one of you an explanation. Well, it is a reading from Alvin's personal diary," he reached down with a loud grunt of pain and pulled out a paper folder from the briefcase, sitting upright and gently slapped the folder on top of the hard surface with a huff of concern, looking at each face. "I do not know why he kept me alive. Maybe, it was for revenge or some money ransom for a raining day." He reached down and flipped open the paper folder, reading out loud from the torn page of Alvin's personal diary. "Brone commanded me to cooperate as he was impressed with the damn batch of lucky Bama boys. Each one of them somehow survived the encounter with Brone's arranged accidents," he looked up with a stern face to see each shocked face with a nod and looked back down and read out loud. "The US Federal Government agency called the Internal Revenue Service. The IRS agency came to the rescue finding the wrong criminal, capturing the wrong criminal, hiding the wrong criminal, and then covering up the right criminal's boot toes, a brilliant plan from the get-go with the exception of one heated body. IRS agent Rector Fucner was leaning inside his pickup truck when the inner guts of the cabin violently imploded, shredding all the other heated and trapped bodies into lawn mulch. Moody remembered to bring the portable bomb but forget the mobile phone and then meshed his fingers into the bomb's remote control accidentally, before exiting out from the cabin. Moody was a true dumbass to the end. I told Brone as much but Brone needed the gem stone from the Starlit beauty crown. Good thing, semi-precious metals are indestructible.

"Cody Mack lost his way out from the single farm cottage towards his pickup truck, missing the final fireworks of the burnt body parts, too." Skippy looked up with a sad face to see Islander. "Tatiana, your daddy, and the other unlucky FBI agents were in the wrong place at the wrong time, Is. Your best friend saved your life, thou." Islander nodded in silence with a stern face.

Cody turned and frowned at the nose profile of Islander. "Who's your best friend, Is? Did he survive, too? Where he is?"

Islander stared with a blank face at the white painted wall. "My dog Lester must've smelled the explosive chemicals that drifted out from the building and through the air waves, when he was outside peeing. He blocked the front doors from me and then the front doors exploded over him. Lester covered me. He saved my life. Then I lived thirteen months wetting the hospital bed and pissing inside the nasty rehab ward on the nasty girl with a crooked nose."

Skippy grunted with a stern face to see each male. "I do work for the US military and as a spy for the USA, when necessary. I was working on an international jewelry ring. Gem stones had been stolen for the past two years throughout the continents of Europe and Asia, which was being tracked to an archeology team, who was headed by Dorothy and who was highly suspicious of USA treason. My job was to prove it. So, you guessed right, I failed. I tried to sex fuck Alvin when she was female Dorothy, two years ago. She was a lesbian when we entered the cave together, where she supposedly died and then reemerged as Alvin, after her sex change operation. Yes, I knew of Brone too, before the deadly murder. He killed in cold blood with a hand gun in front of my eyeballs Dorothy or Alvin or the man-woman thing that died on the floor, last night. I didn't recognize Alvin until it was too late also. Alvin came up as a classified red flag in my face during my personal investigation.

"A classified military officer does not go beauty pageants or appear on television programs. Period! SUSY-Q had one hell of time, not finding out about Alvin too. I did some telephone calls, not finding out about Alvin, also. I called the Mississippi governor, not finding out about Alvin. I called the pageant direction, not finding out about Alvin, either. The pageant billionaire and director both accepted his demon tale on face value with a set of dangling colorful medals on the military jacket, a nice smile, and nicely parted hair. Then I ordered Islander to miss lunch with the beauty babes..."

Islander turned and stared at each face. "I investigated every living and breathing life form under our asses that was connected with the Miss Starlit pageant, but the war warriors. O'Hanlon was the real thing even I couldn't deny his glory and his pain," exhaling with sadness of his death at the pageant stage, last night.

Skippy exhaled with a huff of sadness and a sour frown. "Yes, our US Federal government figured it all out right after the Ashmore funerals, then I used each one of you plus me..."

Cody exhaled with a huff of angry. "I'm been played."

Fucner frowned with fury. "We all have been played, Cody."

Islander exhaled with a huff of worry and nodded to the nose profiles of Cody and Fucner. "I don't like being played by either party, but I don't like criminals inside my playground with me. I'll gladly be played again, if I can save more Americans."

"Fucking hell!" Cody nodded with a full mouth of food and tossed the fork into the air.

Fucner nodded with a stern face to Skippy. "I love America, too."

Skippy nodded with a stern face to each male. "Dorothy simply, she wanted revenge payback for losing the Miss Starlit beauty contest and she recognized me while she was working for Brone. I thought wrong-o. I thought isolating Alvin from the pageant girls would save the beauty pageant show. A bomb is set by remote control devise. He was here with us that night. He had the remote control devise on his body somewhere," he shook a skull. "I didn't connect the invisible electromagnetic currents inside the wheelchair rotors that were flinging out a set of tiny sparks into the air waves, where the infused wiring made of the silver part of the crown's structure."

Cody exhaled. "No one knew the information, skipper. No one figured it out until last night. These jewelry thieves are one pretty techo savvy engineers using the best state of the art equipment. We should call in help from the other branches of the government," he chewed the food.

Islander shook a skull with a sad face. "I am so sorry, ya'll. I figured all this mess out, too late. It was staring me in the face, but I missed it..."

Skippy shook a bruised face. "No, you did not, Is. We were hired as a special team for a special purpose by the pageant billionaire owner of the Miss Starlit contest. Shit! Even the set of highly paid private dicks by the pageant management missed the intrinsic detailed information. Now, they are dead with their master. God bless them all in heaven!"

Cody turned and frowned at Islander. "What information, Is?"

Islander exhaled with a puff of frustration. "Close your eyes or open your eyes! But I want to think backward in time. 'Miss Starlit of whatever' receives a big title and a big crown. Seven inches tall and four inches in width made of cheap rhinestones. However, someone stole the three crowns from our murdered winners for some fucking ass reason. Amber was a winner years ago in high school. This pageant has been going on for decades with girls from ages three to twenty-three years old. Tatianna," he exhaled. "I went to high school and pharmacy school with her. Her tiara contained an emerald stone. This bastard is wicked as hell. He has no rhyme or reason for a motive of killing. The stones inside the previous three murdered winners are valuable stones of emerald, ruby, and sapphire.

"The international winner was supposed to have received a diamond, a real big one. A diamond is one of the hardest minerals to kill on planet Earth. Brone is collecting all the precious gem stones for free within his private dick-ass collection. I know why too. I researched along with SUSY-Q every contestant, every judge, every crew member, and every sponsor, and even the billionaire, and his employees. But, I missed the one staring in my eyeballs. The crown holds a gem stone. Some are usually a cheaply crafted diamond-type fake rhinestone. The jewelry maker created the first gem stone for the Miss Starlit crown, a great big emerald. Back then seventy years ago, products were big and beautiful. Workmanship met something more than dollar bills, based on real values of pride..."

"Pride is a sin in the Bible." Cody nodded with a stern face.

Fucner turned and frowned at Cody, "Uh! I am not touching that one, boy."

"It is." Cody nodded.

Islander nodded. "The jewelry maker was named Brone Wehrme. He resided in Austria, a long, long time ago. He hand-cut and hand-crafted each stone and then his son took over the jewelry making business. So, I'm theorizing here that the gem stones from seventy years ago had been stolen or accidentally placed into a tiara. Then, the stone and tiara was purchased and shipped to wherever, world. One of the present day sons is chasing down these particular expensive and ancient gem stones. Based on the cold blue blood value from my internal and external resources, the stones are worth billions, not millions, the new value of greed."

Skippy nodded with a stern face. "Good job, Is! We found a connection of the dead winners and their beauty crowns. Cody told me that he noticed Amber's tiara went missing from her dining room cabinet, before the bullet hit the house. The ruse worked perfectly. Amber and the team of protective US Marshals fled the safety of the house into a rural country side farm cottage, where Brone surrounded the house and then killed everyone, but Cody. To me, this is making more sense, coming from the thievery angle, then a sore loser female with a big nose and a bigger chip on her shoulder, who sexed changed into a male. The firework funeral last night was not a simply jealous girl, who got second place, not first. The bombs were strategically placed, making and taking the entire structure collapse upon itself within minutes. No one survived. The pageant billionaire is being sued from his asshole up to his esophagus. He won't be a billionaire, anymore. To work, we're still on the case..."

"Wait!" Fucner frowned. "The pageant billionaire won't have money to pay us, so we can continue to work on this case."

Islander nodded, "Right! Because, the pageant billionaire is dead, too."

Skippy nodded with a smile. "You received a new financial installment at midnight, last night. The murder case is still being investigated. Or you can walk away. You have been paid for your work to date."

Fucner grinned. "Are there more installments as we get closer to solving the murder case and killing the murderer?"

Skippy nodded with a smile. "Yes, there is more money and blood. But I get to assassin bastard Brone, once we capture him."

Cody frowned. "I want his foot."

Fucner smiled. "I want his dick."

Islander smiled. "I want his face."

"There're plenty of body parts to jerk off and pass around," Skippy laughed with the others. "Excellent! What's the next step?"

Fucner smiled. "A jewelry thief goes for the next set of shiny stones, so we tarry to the next Miss Starlit Pageant. Where is it?"

Islander frowned. "In fucking hell, dumbass Fucner, the Miss Starlit Pageant has been cancelled, foreverly. Everyone and his mama are suing the pageant billionaire for wrongful deaths of thousands and thousands of dead cold body parts. Remember, last night? So, the jewelry thief has no more leads like us."

Cody tossed both hands into the air. "Then, the murder is closed."

Skippy shook a skull. "I don't believe in my heart that is so. There is something we are missing. The something is me. I survived the male name Brone. He killed Alvin but threatened me as I was very close to his person. Yeah, he was a fuzzy blurry figure of darkness within my dizzy concession last night. I slammed into a damn rotating lunchroom door and then saw some of Brone, who was having fun tormenting Alvin to death. And then I passed out cold on the colder floor. I awoke inside a hospital and was released this morning at five. Anyways, this man named Brone has stolen four great big precious gem stones, a ruby, a sapphire, a diamond, and an emerald. I believe he wants to sale the four stones to a private collector, probably another billionaire. These bastards have nothing else to do with their monies but spend it on shit, when the people go hungry and dead of disease. Therefore, Brone needs another target. So, where would the location of another nice collection of gem stones?"

Cody frowned. "Hell, if I know..."

Fucner reached over and grabbed the mobile telephone with a smile typing on tiny keyboard. "Hell, if I can find out..." Islander and Skippy reached over and grabbed the mobile telephone too as they searched for an answer also. Fucner nodded to the screen of the grin. "Use the two nouns, murders and gemstones. I've already found on the internet, a newspaper article of a murdered man for a bag of diamonds, in Kenya, four years ago."

Islander read out loud from the mobile telephone. "I found another murdered male for a bag of diamonds, three years ago, in Africa."

Skippy shouted out loud and looked down with a stern face on the mobile telephone. "SUSY-Q, stand on the opposite side of the room and shine your computer information onto the white wall behind me. Please access all internet hits for the noun combination of murders and gemstones. Start with your first access hit and then scroll the information down the wall, every three seconds."

SUSY-Q entered the room and stood inside the archway, droning in a female timber. "Yes sir!" She continued to wear the shirt from Cody and the leather belt. Islander looked up and winked to Cody. Cody looked up and turned with a wink with Fucner. SUSY-Q moved ahead and turned, parking in front of the white painted wall as her television lights brightened on the white paint then a set of first set of jumbled sentences appeared over the white paint.

Islander looked up with a confused brow to study the white wall with the sentences. "I'm getting about the same internet results. There are numerous murdered people over diamonds in both the countries of Africa and Great Britain. Africa is the holding company for mining the diamonds. Great Britain is the miner dealer for distributing the cut diamonds."

Cody read out loud the mobile telephone with stern face. "I see a police arrest made over a murder of the UK gem stone expert, in Kenya, two years ago."

Fucner looked up with a confused brow at the white wall of sentences that came from the television head of SUSY-Q, seeing the same hits on the mobile telephone. "I don't think this is a good method of pursuing Brone."

Islander looked down with a stern face and typed on the tiny keyboard, reading out loud the information for all eardrums. "I found an interesting combination of gem stones and murders. A Saudi Arabic male was murdered over a blue diamond, fourteen years ago. Could there be a different murder for a different gem stone? Do you think the internet could tell us if there are murders are related to other kinds of gem stones?"

Fucner read out loud the information in the incorrect manner with a chuckle. "Yeah, in the foreign country of India, Gopally Harry Jerry was murdered over an emerald gem stone, five years ago."

Cody tossed an arm into the air with a nod and read out loud on the mobile telephone. "Since 4th BC, diamonds had been discovered at an old Indian work site of Arthasastra. Then, each raw diamond rock was traded and even taxed by the tax collectors within the country of India. When you can't buy or sale gem stone, thievery becomes very popular, since the ancient year of 3,000 BC." He dropped the arm and looked up with a stern face to see Skippy. "This is not the right method for finding Brone. I agree with Fucner."

Fucner read out loud from the mobile telephone with a stern face. "I found something interesting. In Sanskrit, a Turkish sultan was murdered in the ancient year of 1513 AD for a triplet ruby. That is a ruby gem that is three times its normal size. What is the normal size for a ruby? This brings us a good question to me. Are these really stones?"

Islander shook an arm and a skull. "Wait a minute! We are going about this all wrong. The pageant billionaire has possession of all the gem stones, so the jewelry thief will be robbing him next. This is our clue and our next target."

Skippy frowned. "Good luck to the jewelry thief and us! Lawyers are invading and staying inside the pageant billionaire mansion as we ponder here inside the damaged work building. Nothing is getting in or out of that house until the year 2051. While the office of lawyers makes millions of dollars in legal fees, until his billions are all gone."

Fucner nodded. "I concur with that scenario."

Cody frowned. "Madagascar, there was a gem stone robbery and murder in the country of Madagascar. One of the beauty contestants was from the country of Madagascar," nodding.

"So?" Fucner frowned.

Cody exhaled. "I find this a weird coincidence along with the weirder representative from Holy See, the holy city of the entire world. I believe this is a clue."

Islander nodded. "I believe Cody is right. Do you know why, gentlemen?" Cody laughed. Fucner frowned. Islander smiled. "A set of fucking clueless perverts, both of you were present at the swimsuit and evening gown competition yesterday. You saw the girls singing and two-stepping some really funny dance moves..."

Fucner frowned. "So!"

Islander laughed. "You didn't bother looking above their breasts, Fucner."

Fucner laughed, "Naw. What's up there to stare at, Is?"

Skippy slapped the table with a laugh. "A chin, a nose, a forehead and a tiara, Is is correct. During the evening gown competition, each girl wore their crown. The native tiara came from their native country which was given to them for winning their native country's title."

Islander turned and smiled at the back spine of the robot. "SUSY-Q, please replace the current wall of sentences and show a colorful picture of Miss Madagascar during the evening gown competition on the wall." The wall of words was replaced with a short girl who wore a yellow evening gown and a tall crown of silver with a blue stone.

Cody smiled at the wall with the girl. "Wow! Show the next girl, SUSY-cutie. Miss Yemen has a blue stone inside her native crown, too. And then continue to show the next girl, until I say stop, SUSY-cutie." The robot displayed each photograph for five seconds on the wall. Cody pointed at the picture. "Miss Benin is wearing a blue stone inside her native crown, too. Miss Oman is wearing a blue stone inside her native crown, too. Miss Algeria is wearing a blue stone inside her native crown, too. Miss Estonia is wearing a blue stone inside her native crown, too."

Islander frowned at the wall with each girl picture. "There are not in alphabetic order either. SUSY-Q, please go back to the first photography of Miss Madagascar and identify the blue stone in her tiara?"

The wall turned into the dull white paint. SUSY-Q displayed the first colored picture back onto the wall and then flipped through the next one, droning in a female timber. "Miss Madagascar is wearing a blue lapis lazuli stone inside the crown. Miss Yemen is wearing a blue spinel inside the crown. Miss Oman is wearing a blue tanzanite inside the crown. Miss Algeria is wearing a blue anhydrite..."

"Blue. Blue." Cody nodded with a grin. "The gem stones of spinel and tanzanite come in varied colors besides blue, so true blue is the true answer here," he looked down with a smile and typed on the mobile telephone.

Furner frowned at the wall and then the hair roots of Cody. "It's a blue stone."

Islander smiled with a nod. "Ah! I see Cody's connection. SUSY-Q, is one of the beauty contestants wearing specifically a blue sapphire in her tiara from last night?"

SUSY-Q droned in female timber. "No, Mr. Islander."

Cody looked up with a smile to each face. "See? I'm right. Amber's tiara contained the only blue sapphire that Brone wanted and stolen when he murdered her and her family unit and all my friends at the US Marshal Office. The pageant billionaire didn't buy a repeat any of the earth's nature semi-precious gem stones for the winners of the pageant, because each stone is unique. And I agree with the gathered historical information and brilliant assessment from Is. Each stone came from the old man Brone from many, many decades ago. His son is stealing them back by murdering anyone who gets in the way."

Fucner frowned. "I don't know, kid. How many different varieties of natural gemstones are there in the world, SUSY-Q?"

SUSY-Q droned in a female timber. "There are two hundred different varieties of natural gemstones."

Fucner nodded. "How many world countries are represented at the Miss International Starlit pageant last night, before the fireworks, SUSY-Q?"

The robot droned in a female timber and faced the wall. "There were 196 countries from the world that were present at the Miss International Starlit pageant last night, before all were killed in the bomb explosion."

Islander turned and smile at Fucner. "The four missing gem stones would be a ruby, a sapphire, an emerald, and a diamond which was supposed to go to the dead winner. The kid's right again. Give it up while you're ahead, Fucner!"

Cody pointed to the ceiling with a stern face and then the wall with the girl picture with a nod. "He's looking for it. I can't believe this. Brone is looking for the Ring of King Solomon. The gem stone ring of King Solomon is one of the most mysterious artifacts of the world. The relic has been mentioned for thousands of years in books and by mouth which is also called the Ring of the Fisherman, the Seal of Solomon, and the Ring of Aandaleeb. It's a very powerful weapon, warding off evil spirits, casting away demons, and saving mankind for salvation to...to enter heaven. It's a large oval shape of blue stone..."

"One," Fucner frowned. "I don't believe ya, Cody. Two, you're full of shit, kid. Three, that blue stone in her crown is too big for any ring setting. Four, there are other colored stones besides blue for stealing by a jewelry thief than a set of matching blue colored. Five, that blue stone would fit inside a crown or a broach only. Did King Solomon wear a set of lady's broaches underneath his silk robes?" He laughed with Islander.

Cody frowned. "The Ring of King Solomon is a lost artifact like...like the Ark of the Covenant like...like the Ark boat of Noah, the breastplate of Aaron, and...and like the lost treasure of the kingdom of Tyre..."

Fucner laughed. "And all is lost like the lost civilization of Atlantis. Anyone with a set of tits or wits among their genes would have to not fucking guess by now that Noah's Ark is deep shit below planet Earth underneath a dome of hard rock bed which was 5,000 years ago. A place where no man will ever go, so man hitched a ride a star ship into outer space instead," chuckling.

Cody looked down with a stern face and typed on the mobile telephone. "We're looking for a smaller piece of stone."

Skippy shook a skull with a stern face and type on the mobile telephone. "A jewelry thief does want to steal gem stones. Miss Starlit had two hundred gem stones in one single spot. This is a brilliant plan that successfully worked along with committing mass murders in one evening. Okay. The good old internet tells me. The top ten gem stones to purchase or steal include a blue sapphire, an orange topaz, a pink tourmaline, a purple amethyst, a red ruby, a golden citrine, a red spinel, a smoky quartz, a red garnet, and a blue lapis lazuli."

Cody looked up with a worried brow to each male. "Brone is looking for the Ring of King Solomon. Here in Huntsville for one evening, there is an assortment of the world's greatest collection of blue stones on top of every beauty contestant's hair roots. One of them has to be it. Once Brone figures out which one, he'll mold himself another Ring of King Solomon."

Islander smiled. "Okay, Cody! I believe your working theory. So tell me which blue stone is it? Or could it be? Do you have an inkling?"

"No. But I got a tinkling," Fucner stood upright with a smile and back stepped from the table, turning to face the open archway and exited the room.

Islander turned and frowned at the ass of Fucner. "Is there some scholar who knows any ancient Bible theories regarding the Ring of King Solomon that we can add to our team, skipper?"

Skippy exhaled with a huff of frustration. "Cody, I like your theory, too. SUSY-Q, take all the colored photographs of all the Miss International Starlit Pageant contestants and then compare to the completed listing of every gem stones from A to Z on planet Earth with each contestant's individual picture. And then tell me what is missing? Thank you! Once we prove it, how do we keep from getting locked up the closest mental institution?" Fucner returned into the room with a smile and moved ahead towards the chair.

SUSY-Q continued to stand in front of the wall and removed the colorful picture. Then the wall turned back into dull white paint again. The robot droned in a female timber. "Thank you, Captain Skippy. Your request is being processed which will take approximately eighteen hours, thirty-two minutes, and seven seconds."

Islander grinned. "There's one here in B'ham."

Fucner stopped and slid back down into the same chair with a sour frown to Islander. "Shut the fuck up, Is!"

Islander nodded with a smile. "I know the answers. Brone is a son of a jeweler, fact one. Fact two, he is a jeweler who stole the gem stones. Fact three, he is a murderer. I wanna remind everyone. Fact four, we go back to the exploded building and shift through the pink tissues, red dried blood, and broken white bones for the two hundred gems stones. If all the tiaras with the blue stones are missing, then Cody is right. Brone is re-creating the Ring of King Solomon for his evil purpose. The end!"

Skippy frowned. "I don't like your gross vivid description, but I do like your idea. I need to make future plans with the lawyers of the pageant billionaire, before we descend upon the dead body parts..."

"Call up the FBI, skipper," frowned Islander.

Skippy nodded. "The billionaire died in the explosion, too. His lawyers are lawyered up, having secured everything and anything for their future profits at the damaged building, the estate house, and the business. If any of the gem stones survived the fires, the explosions, and Brone, they would have them locked away inside a steel safe behind the kitchen refrigerator."

Fucner reached over with a smile and grabbed the mobile telephone, typing on the screen. "Good! We don't have to visit the scattered body parts inside the bombed building. I don't like blood and guts and dust bunnies," chuckling.

Islander looked down with a smile and typed on the screen of the mobile telephone for new information. "Cody, we can do some legwork while we wait on SUSY-Q output results..."

"Hey!" Fucner frowned down at the screen of the phone and looked up to see Cody. "The Ring of King Solomon is a signal ring. That means it is a ring that is worn on the longest finger middle for shooting a bird or stamping a mess of black heated tar onto hard copy papers, without magical powers."

Cody grinned. "Moses didn't have toilet paper to shit on each turd or wipe his ass, Fucner. He wrote on a set of two rough stone tablets like the Ten Commandments per the Bible. Scholars believed that the two tables were ten words, literally. The Hebrew people didn't have a written language either. They used some ancient set of hieroglyphics symbols similar to the Egyptian culture. Each symbol represented a set of instructions, such like, pray to God, shit in the ditch, bathe in the ocean. That's why God commissioned priests to write the Bible. O. King Solomon used a cylinder ring which looked like your grandmomma's rolling pin for making her homemade buttermilk biscuit dough, dork. The cylinder ring was the famous Jewish star symbol rolled on a piece of tiny white linen for any and all official kingly documents, if ever was needed. The ancient Romans wore the first known hand rings. A hand ring was enclosed in the earth mineral of iron which could be forged and molded, since its hardness is beyond all expression..."

"So is my dick during a full erection, kid," chuckled Fucner.

"Excellent working theory, my young sir," she appeared and stood inside archway, holding an old fashioned worn brown colored leather briefcase and a smile. The female was tall and slender with a head of shoulder length dirty blonde colored hair, a tone of pale tinted skin, and a pair of hazel colored eyes. She entered the room and stopped, standing over the blackish gray hair roots of Skippy. The other soldiers stood upright from the chair for a southern belle with a greeting nod in silence and then sat back down.

Skippy did not stand and patted the empty chair beside him with a smile. "Gentlemen, please meet our newest valuable member to join our little gang. May I present Yorkie? She holds a post-doctoral degree in radiation biology and bone and is my personal physician, a medical licensed radiologist," he turned and winked at her.

"Hi, ya'll!" Yorkie slid down into the empty chair with a smile at each face, dropping the briefcase at the feet. "I'm not an oncologist treating cancer patients for tumors. I work for the US Federal Government with some of the newest novel radiation technologist in the areas of high dose-rate and low dose-rate intensity modulated radiation therapy, a mouth full. I know. Alright! Let's get started. I'm here on loan, so we make the most of my time, boys."

"Boys?" Fucner laughed.

Yorkie reached over with a smile and patted the arm of Skippy. "I have some additional information to share. When Skippy survived a direct gun assault inside a cliff cave on top of a river in south Alabama, it was accidental. The ring leader Dorothy, aka Alvin, was second runner up to Amber Ashmore in the Miss Starlit Pageant, many years ago. There wasn't one single gem stone hidden inside the walls or on the bodies of the shredded flesh. The White House experts, too many for me to credit, found a patch of tiny shards composed of petrified wood, only. The petrified wood was tested and found to be radiated. Yes, outer space and man-made radiation travels as rays, waves, or energetic particles through air, water, or solid objects. Specifically, gamma rays will penetrate paper, skin, wood, and other substances, including the individual clay bricks of your residential family house plus all the building materials. We're doused with radiation every day. Ionizing radiation is widely used in industry and medicine present in plastics, wood, water, and your human body. Except, this piece of wood is radiated at .000006 millirads. Does everyone understand a milli-rad?"

Cody smiled. "A unit measure of a single dosage of any type of radiation, whether man-made or outer space."

Yorkie leaned down and rattled the lip of the briefcase, lifting and held two objects near her smile. "This is a Geiger counter," she lowered and slid both objects to Fucner with a smile. "Please scan the tiny piece of petrified wood with the Geiger counter, sir."

Fucner reached out and grabbed, scanning the wood chunk with the machine, looking at the screen. "It read .000002 millirads, almost nothing," he slid the items back to Yorkie with a nod.

Cody laughed. "SUSY-Q, please show me television channel number 9999 on the white paint."

Fucner looked up with a confused brow to see the ceiling and back to see Cody. "There ain't no television channel for 9999, unless you're calling up your outer space friends on planet Mars," he laughed with the others. The wall changed into a set of silver and gray lines of static.

Cody pointed at the wall with a smile. "My earthling friend, that there is silver and gray snow which comes from television channel 9999. One percent of snow is background outer space radiation that falls down from the big bang theory that credited and created our universe. This is the birth pain of the universe by Almighty God's hand. I don't know why folks get upset about science and God. They are both the one and the same."

Yorkie smiled with a nod, "That is an excellent presentation, Cody. Back to the petrified wood, some of the radiation particles have leaked and traveled up into our atmosphere. SUSY-Q, please show us the current radiation dots of .000002 millirads around the world." The wall turned into an electronic map of the United States. There were a set of tiny red dots that covered ninety-nine percent of the USA. Yorkie spun around inside the chair and pointed the electronic map on the wall with a stern face. "You can see micro millirads are everywhere around us, on top of us, and surrounding us. SUSY-Q, please eliminate all the nuclear plant sites and then show us the current radiation dots of .000002 millirads." The map of the USA changed into a set of tiny pockets of red in certain geographical points. Yorkie said. "You are seeing the remnants of tiny radiation dots which can be measured by the outer space satellites," she spun around inside the chair and faced each male with a nod. "Now, the mysterious begins. What do gem stones and petrified wood have in common?" silence invaded the room. She smiled. "I am asking the question, gentlemen."

Skippy chuckled. "To the cell phones, guys," he looked down with a smile at the mobile telephone, typing into the tiny keyboard.

Yorkie smiled, "I would suggest to type in your cell phone search, wood and gems."

Islander smiled at Yorkie. "Too easy and too common, the answer is a jewelry box. My mama had one for many decades. Both items of wood and gems were contained within," nodding.

Cody looked down with a stern face and read out loud the new information on the mobile telephone. "Wow! That's a toughie. I see jewelry pieces like necklaces, earrings, rings, bracelets. No other common items. SUSY-Q, we need some help here. What does petrified wood and polished gems have in common, a common factor?"

SUSY-Q droned in a female timber. "Let me compute the request, Mr. Cody."

Islander looked down with a stern face and read out loud the new information on the mobile telephone. "I see handcrafted fashion jewelry, pendants of combined wood and gems. There's intriguing petrified wood and wood fossils created into healing stone."

Fucner frowned down at the tiny screen of the mobile telephone. "I see petrified wood sap. What fucking sap would get a piece of petrified wood sap?" He laughed with the others.

Cody frowned down at the tiny screen of the mobile telephone. "Amber is petrified wood resin. When hardened, it becomes the gem stone of amber for sale."

Fucner lifted and raised the mobile telephone near a smile. "Here's a picture of a fossilized wood gemstone for sale for one hundred fifty dollars or a picture of a pendant for fifty dollars or a sphere for one hundred twenty-five dollars without state and local taxes, ya'll. A petrified wood mosaic, wood tiles, wood limb slices. Yeah, baby! Look at this monster petrified wood tree trunk, the size of a mature oak tree. I want one for Christmas, daddy," laughing.

Islander frowned down at the tiny screen on the mobile telephone. "The Ming dynasty era produced a mixture of gold and wood products in furniture. Could gem stones be hidden within the wood too?"

Skippy smiled down at the tiny screen on the mobile telephone. "Most of the pictures are precious rock gems embedded between trunks of wood."

Islander frowned down at the tiny screen on the mobile telephone. "There is a golden and wood abacus from the foreign country of China. Gold and wooden statues from ancient times in Africa or Sumer or Babylonia or whatever..."

He looked up with a laugh to see each face. "You are pissing up the wrong tree. It is gems and wood, not gold and wood," chuckling.

Cody looked up with a sigh to see each face. "I have found here on the cell. The four major gem stones are diamonds, sapphires, emeralds and rubies which are the four most expensive and valuable to mankind. It's valuable to kings too. Royal coffins are covered in them. Kings are buried in them. Does the wood and gems have to been embedded into the design or product? Could the wood and gems be separate, not necessary combined in a necklace or a furniture piece?"

Islander frowned down at the screen of the mobile telephone and then to each face. "I found photographs of jewelry items being used as a healing stone for the body and mind. How is a piece of wood a healing stone?"

Cody smiled. "The stone is made of Earth. Earth is part of Almighty God's property. Almighty God heals the Earth, when destroyed by assholes like Fucner. Then, the Earth provides healing to God's children..."

"A cycle of nothing," laughed Fucner.

SUSY-Q replaced the picture with a new mage on the wall with a drone, "Here is the picture of the Ark of the Covenant."

Yorkie looked up with a smile to see each face. "The White House believes that Brone is looking for the broken chunks of the Ark of the Covenant or some smaller pieces of the Ark..."

"Naw," Fucner shook a skull and the hands with the mobile telephone with a stern face. "I'm sorry, pretty doctor. I'm a badass and an asshole. I don't believe this crap. I do believe in Almighty God and Brother Jesus and like my new bank account, but your story is running on corn fumes or maybe outer space farts. I do believe that I need some more hard evidence other than a mass murderer who is looking for a biblical artifact that fucking no man or monster on Earth has stomped on especially here in Alabama. The end!"

Islander frowned. "Why are you referencing the White House contact as opposed to the US Government contact, Yorkie?"

Yorkie nodded with a grin. "My boss is the President of the United States. My orders come directly from the President of the United States. My information exchange is only with the President of the United States."

Fucner pointed with a smile down to the mobile telephone. "And you tell Mr. President of the United States thank you for my six figured bank account. It'll not go to waste," nodding.

Cody nodded with a smile. "I can help the pretty doctor prove her valid point. The Ark of Convent is the one of the world's most fascinating biblical mysteries. In the Holy Bible of the Old Testament on top of Mount Sinai around 1250 BC, Almighty God inscribed the Ten Commandments on a set of two stone tablets. Moses built under God's instructions a wooden crate covered in melted down jewelry of gold. God got pissed off at His children, again. The Israelites and the Ark of the Covenant was toted around for forty long years for their personal punishment by God, wandering the desert. Then, they stopped wandering. The Israelites built and placed inside the temple the Ark of the Covenant. They called it, the Temple of King Solomon. For 200 years, Israel lived in peace with victory against its enemies. Then, they lost the battle with the Philistines, where the Ark was taken and treated, like a trophy. Several unnatural disasters befell upon their city, one being the bubonic plague with an invasion of mice."

Fucner laughed. "There were plenty of hungry cats in Egypt. The Philistines should've rented some or catnipped some," he chuckled without the others.

Yorkie looked down with a stern face to see the tiny screen of the mobile telephone. "At the Battle of Absalom in the year 962 BC, King David won the Ark back and then placed it inside the Temple of Solomon in Jerusalem. In the year 587 BC, the Babylonians led by King Nebuchadnezzar captured the city of Jerusalem along with taking possession of the Ark and all the precious treasures..."

Fucner leaned over and elbowed Islander with a wink and a smile, looking at each face. "A world history lesson here King Darius lost control of his kingdom, because he wanted to raise taxes, after spending all his money on his thousands of wives and concubines. Geez! He had some biblical fun. He had a thousand nights of fun. How many years is a thousand days? Wished, I had a personal temple and a thousand whores, I could really have some fun too. He invited on Saturday nights about 50,000 people, where they would gather and pass around the incense which contained cannabis or modern day pot inside his royal palace. Then on Sunday morning, they awoke to hungry pains of food," chuckling. "Solomon's grandson messed around with way too much pot and girls, losing to Nebuchadnezzar in the year 586 BC. Now that is the more accurate description of your history lesson for the day, children. Darius' derriere was exiled from Jerusalem too. Then, the Babylonians destroyed Jerusalem, toting off the Ark. Bye-bye, ya'll!" he wiggled both eyebrows with a chuckle.

Yorkie looked up with a grin to see each face. "King Nebuchadnezzar received a set of bad dreams but never returned back the Ark to King Darius. In the year 150 BC, the re-built second Temple of Solomon was invaded by Alexander the Great, who stole the treasure. However, the Ark of the Covenant was never seen or heard from again since the thievery of 586 BC. It has been cited in the Old Testament but can't be found, not one tiny splinted wood."

Fucner chuckled, "God should've built an alarm system."

Skippy said. "Wait! I got something to add. In the second Book of Maccabebebees, chapters two through four, verse ten, Almighty God ordered the Ark which was buried inside a cave on Mount Nebo in the country of Jordan within the city of Zion. Currently, the Zionists claim it holds the Ark under guard and foot inside a deep cave."

Fucner looked down with a smile face to see the mobile telephone. "Albert Einstein described insanity as doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results."

Islander read out loud the information on the mobile telephone. "The country of South Africa has it buried down in a deep cave in the Durnghe Mountains, their spirit home," he looked up with a smile to see each face.

Cody read out loud from the mobile telephone with the internet information. "The country of France claimed the Ark was taken to Chartres Cathedral by the Knights Templar but removed during World War One and far away from dictator Hitler."

Fucner smiled. "Every fucking person in the world knows that the Ark is sealed inside a wooden crate with the number 84 inside a warehouse at Area 51 within the US State of Nevada which is right beside the frozen body of the outer space green alien guy. And Brother Ezekiel was the musical band Journey's first musical fan, describing the fiery wheel in the sky," he laughed with the others. "And now, I have addressed the finale question for the starved and stupid readers of the world. Yeah! Can I leave and spend my money, before I pay fifty percent in taxes for doing nothing, skipper?"

Yorkie read out loud from the mobile telephone with the internet information. "The Ark of the Covenant was held inside King Solomon's temple that housed the Ten Commandments along with other treasures in the Land of Israel..."

Fucner chuckled with a musical hum. "Is that related to the land of Dixie or the land of cotton? I wished I were in the land of cotton look away...look away...look away Dixie land," humming with a smile.

Islander turned and winked with a smile. "Or the Landscape of the Lost, it was an old kiddie television program with a set of big cute colorful dinosaurs."

Fucner laughed. "T-rex moved it to Japan, where he and Godzilla protect it by shitting over the God's gold with their dump of radiation turds."

Islander wiped off the tears with a laugh. "That explains the massive weird-ass radiation waves over the entire country of Japan, causing the nuclear plant explosion."

Skippy frowned with puzzlement. "Why is the Ark of the Covenant radiated?"

Fucner raised and dropped the palm with a laugh. "God's mad. No wait! I know. It is God's method of speaking to His children from his voice box like a great big cell phone, since He gave all his science brains to mankind. He needed to get everyone attention for a certain period of time, before releasing the children into the wild," he chuckled with the others.

Cody turned and frowned at the nose profile of Fucner. "Can he take his money and please leave right now?"

Fucner raised and dropped the palm with a laugh, "Time out! All these historical fairy tales don't matter. Wood is wood. Wood turns into sawdust over years, decades, and centuries. The Ark is in heaven like the Bible tells. We all believe in the Bible. Right? Right! Amen," smiling.

Cody smiled. "The Ark is made of acacia wood. There are 1,300 species of the wood where 960 species come from the countries of Australia, Europe, Asia, Africa, and the US State of California. Looks like a piece of plain old light brown trunk of a maple tree. The branches are used as fodder which is animal feed for agricultural foodstuff for cows, goats, sheep, horses, chickens, and pigs. The wood is water-seasoned for tool handles and lumber for boats," he turned and wiggled the eyebrows to each face.

Islander smiled, "Cody's smart."

Fucner turned and frowned at the teen-ass. "God's smarter than Cody."

Cody smiled. "The Ark is not located inside a musky cave or underneath a dry desert or on top of a snowy mountain but along a river bed. No one can find the thing, since it is buried underneath gallons of water which is probably fresh water, coming directly from the feeder system of the Jordan River. A river is fresh water, not salt water."

Yorkie exhaled with a nod. "Let's start all over again with the factual information from the Bible story. The Babylonians removed all the precious treasure inside Solomon's Temple, before destroying the temple. The Ark of the Covenant is three feet long and two feet wide. Gold is a very heavy and hardy earth element. The Ark of the Covenant is a holy relic, blessed, and forbidden by God to be physically touched by man. Wooden staves were speared through a set of rings on the Ark in order for it to be carried by man. The Ark contained the mercy seat of God between the two cherubs. After the Babylonians abandoned Israel, the Jewish people built a second temple on the highest peak of the highest mountain to be close to God and accept God's help in defending the newly built temple while praying for the Ark of the Covenant to come back to them with the Ten Commandments, their promise of salvation."

Fucner frowned. "Hold up! I read, too. The Ark of the Covenant was a wooden box covered in gold mineral. We all know what happens to wood after a long, long, long time. It rots into sawdust. The end!"

Yorkie reached out and grabbed, lifting the object near a smile. "During the smelting process of gold onto wood, you create a new product, somewhat petrified permanently with engrained bits of gold nuggets. The gold will collect and retain radiation bits foreverly."

Fucner smiled with a nod to Yorkie. "You got me there, babe. Except, it says it right here on the tiny screen of my cell phone, once I turn it sideways. In the Book of Revelations, Chapter 11, Verse 19, 'the Ark went up into heaven with God and then his son Jesus will return with Him and bring it back down to planet Earth during the Second Coming..."

Islander lifted and dropped a palm with a stern face. "The internet source says the present location of the Ark of the Covenant is in present day Jordan. The children of Israel knew that King Nebuchadnezzar was going to attend through the oracle of whatever. The precious treasure, including the Ark, was secretly moved to Mesopotamia in the Persian Empire, during Queen Esther's reign with her husband what's his name. Queen Esther and her empire extended from Israel all the way to the Indus River. Wow! This statement means the Ark is still intact with the gold and treasures of King Solomon, somewhere on planet Earth. Right? Right!"

Yorkie nodded. "King Solomon and Queen Bathsheba had their fling. Then, the queen went back home to Ethiopia. The country of Ethiopia has an uninterrupted chain of historical events for the past 3,000 years. The Ethiopian Church is one the oldest temples in the world built for her child, the son of King Solomon and Queen Bathsheba. Many scholars believe the Ark of the Covenant is living in Ethiopia, based on the frequency of dead bodies. The bodies once guarded the completely boarded up doors and windows of the church, due to the emitting radiation from the Ark. Each solider feels it is a holy prison sentence to guard the church. The guard is never allowed to leave his guard post inside the fence around the building. The Ethiopian government claims the Ark is there, but no one is allowed to see it."

Fucner frowned. "I highly recommend to the President of the USA. We send all them fucking-ass crazy motherfucker zealots that are gathered from around the world and then dumped them down into the foreign country of Ethiopia. Let each one of them guard the fucking radiated Holy wood that comes from Almighty God. It'll solve a mess of worldly problems for everybody and God," he chuckles with the others and then motor boats the lips. "And I wanna add. Naw. I can guarantee that neither Adolph fucking Hitler, nor the president of the fucking United States of America, nor the radiated church of Ethiopia has abused that poor broken wooden box with or without its golden skin. The Holy Bible says in the Book of Revelation..."

"We heard you the first time, Fucner." Islander turned and frowned at Fucner.

Fucner chuckled. "The Bible says that Almighty God created the heavens and the earth. Where did God live before the heavens? Okay. I don't know either. The Bible says that planet was formed out of water and by water. The same waters deluged and destroyed earth, when God got pissed off at His children. Man! The local law enforcement authorities slap a loving mother in a jail cell for whipping her bratty kid with a belt for stealing and eating his sister's chocolate donut. Good thing that God promised not to visit here ever again, sending down His son first to reprimand His naughty children. God's one smart cookie," he laughed with the others. He smiled. "God says that present heaven and earth are reserved for fire and ungodly destruction on Judgment Day. Specifically, God describes the heavens will disappear with a roar. The elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth will be bare, not there. This comes from Second Peter Chapter 3 and Verse 10," he turned and scanned each face. "I don't know about ya'll. But, that ungodly destruction phrase coming from a powerful God-entity is a little bit scary within my shivering body and sharp brain cells. What do you think, Cody?"

Skippy looked down with a stern face and read out loud from the mobile telephone with the new information. "In this internet article, there is a rumor that six knights from Great Britain who dug up a treasure from the ruins of King Solomon's temple. They ran away to the country of Switzerland and started the first banking system and then created an army called the Templar Knights. Finally, all the knights were killed by the Roman Pope. So, the knights found some pieces of the Ark, wood and gold. Gold can be melted into pieces of fragments. They couldn't just show up with a box-like gold object and then the entire world would know their secret. The ark pieces are hidden in the Vatican too. Coincidentally, in the Miss Starlit Pageant, there was a girl from Holy See, the headquarters of the Vatican."

Islander lifted up the tiny screen of the mobile telephone near a smile. "Here is the picture of a Syrian priest who sits at a long ugly wooden table inside the monastery library. There is a wall of cubbyholes which are filled with tons of handwritten ancient scrolls. Maybe, the Ark is inside a cubby hole behind the monk's ass..."

"O yeah!" Fucner turned with a smile to scan each face. "Who makes up this crap? O. I know. You type the book, buy the book, make the money, and then type another second book to make more money. Now, if the Ark of the Covenant still existed, then it had been founded by purpose or accident. And then, every fucking big and tiny nation would be fighting with shotguns and battling with blood over who really owns it as their property first has a right to the treasure second. People fight over territory. People fight over property. People fight over money. People fight over sex. Mankind and womankind, they are a bunch of greedy selfish kids. Since you, me, and God know this too. O," he turned and frowned at the nose profile of Cody. "Cody, quit agreeing with the pretty adult female. She's the skipper's fuck and you're a minor child at seventeen years old." He laughed with the others.

Yorkie turned and smiled with a nod at Fucner. "I like him. And he's right, Cody."

Skippy looked down with a smile at the mobile telephone and read out loud the new information to all eardrums. "This article states that the King Solomon's temple treasures were captured by Emperor Titus and then brought back to Rome, Italy, where it was melted down. Only gold or silver is melted down. You don't melt down gem stones. The melted down treasure was made into scared decorations for the Temple of Jupiter, a popular pagan worshipping place in Ancient Rome."

Yorkie smiled with a nod, "This is excellent timing, sir. I believe that we have our first solid clue. SUSY-Q, show us the radiation spikes at the Vatican in Rome, Italy!"

SUSY-Q continued to face the wall and droned in a female timber and displayed a new image on the white paint. "The latitude is 41 degrees and 54 minutes north and the longitude is 12 degree and 30 minutes east. These are the remaining white limestone foundation stones of the Temple of Jupiter in Rome, Italy. In Ancient Rome, the temple provided assemblies and displayed numerous altars, statues, and victory trophies of the people. There are also underground chambers underneath the damaged building materials which are unsuitable for display, such-like, ancient human and animal offerings."

Yorkie turned and smiled at the electronic image on the wall. "The electronic map shows the colors of red, blue, yellow, white and black. The red dots are indicators of heat. The pink spots within the heat are the radiation signature of any radiated metal object which is about three feet underground. As the satellite beams goes deeper, it will be harder to distinguish between regular old earth radiation from a set of man-made radiation fragments."

Cody frowned at the new electronic image on the forward white painted wall. "It is too, too small! What is the measurement of the single tiny pink spot, SUSY-Q?"

SUSY-Q droned in a female timber and stared at the wall. "The pink radiation signature is .000007 millirads."

Islander frowned at the same wall too. "Not much of the ark is left intact."

Cody shook his curls. "I believe that is too small for a piece of the ark which probably cannot be retrieved by us or Brone."

Yorkie nodded. "Brone came to the same conclusion as us, so we keep searching too for the exact spot."

"So, we get to scrap my personal free trip to Rome, Italy, this year," laughed Fucner.

Cody clapped and then pointed with a smile at the forward white painted wall with the electronic image from SUSY-Q. "This is a good start. We still have the technology to find a single radiation pocket of a gold nugget anywhere in the world. The ark is a piece of radiated material. What do we do with a tub or a tanker of radiated materials? We bury them under the sea ocean, in the back yard, and on top of a mountain range. Snow covers radiation and then lights it up for all eyeballs to see. There is a Mormon story of Joseph Smith. He found some golden tablets and then it was misplaced. He also claimed to see visible floating spirits. Radiation poisoning will create an illusion or an image of a person or a group of people within the human mind and then you die. I don't believe that story relates here, but I wanted to tell it," he looked down with a smile to read the mobile telephone with Islander, Yorkie, and Skippy.

Fucner turned with a sour frown and scanned at the various hair roots of each team member. Everyone had looked down and stared into an individual mobile telephone. He smiled at each set different type of colored hair roots. "When I die, everything goes on and on without me, since the beginning of God's creation. This is for a purpose."

Yorkie continued to stare down with a smile at the mobile telephone. "I agree with Cody. We start from the top, again. Alright! I have searched and read every article on the internet, regarding the Ark of the Covenant. Every resource says the same thing over and over again. The biblical Ark is currently located at St. Mary's Chapel in the city Axum within the foreign country of Ethiopia, under the guard and the protection of the priesthood. Scientists have confirmed that there are radioactive waves that are being emitted out from the little chapel the boarded window panes. So the Ark is here. Some of the priests do exhibit a clinical presentation of radiation sickness over time and then die from those medical symptoms," she looked up with a smile to see the colored hair roots each team member.

"There is a cure for clinical radiation sickness. A 'do not enter' sign on the front of the church," Fucner looked up with a wink to flirt with cute Yorkie with a smile.

Cody looked up with a smile and turned to see each person. "The Ark is radiated, since the Bible tells me so. A pocket of radiation is a specific spot where the radiation is highly concentrated. The high concentration is found around a metal object. The Earth metal designed containers made by mankind stores the radiation waves much longer and stays foreverly. A very good example, on the west coast of North American, a team of scientists have found that there is ten times a set of highly concentrations of radiation over the entire Pacific basin, since the beginning of time. To add to that horror, there is nuclear plant fallout also. A team of scientists throughout the world vocally claims that the foreign Fukushima nuclear plant accident which expelled a team of radiation molecules down into ocean waters would get diluted by the ocean currents, the sea salts, and the other weather earth elements. However, the US Federal Government has confirmed that there is a stream of highly concentrated radiation traveling towards the west coast of North American."

Fucner frowned with worry. "That's awful for me!"

Cody grinned, "And it is awfully good for our search too. SUSY-Q, bring up the Fukushima government tracking map, please!" The white painted wall, without a single piece of art work, changed into the colors of massive blue and tiny yellow. Cody pointed at the electronic new map with a smile. "The blue color is the Pacific Ocean water. The yellow tinted radiation line comes off the shoreline of foreign Fukushima nuclear plant which is located right off the Pacific Ocean. The yellow tinted plume crosses over the ocean waves in a nearly straight line towards the North America coastline. So far, the air currents are negative for radiation spikes on the radar. The ocean water streams are negative for radiation spikes on the radar too. But, you can see that the yellow tinted plume is shaped like a feather, where the set of light ocean breeze winds blows a steady stream of yellow tinted radiation waves in our fucking direction towards the great state of California. The time scale of the radiation wave will reach the west coast of America is 3.9 years. The half-life of cesium-137 radiation compound lives so long that it will produce more internal tissue, internal organ, and skin damage to a human than any other animals. So far, the tuna fish off the coasts of both the state of California and the foreign country of Canada have tested positive for radiation tissues in ocean fishies. However, the deer mammals, the trout fish, and all the flying birds are testing negative, so far. Based on my swift scientific lecture, radiation can be traced in the water, too." He looked down with a stern face and tapped on the mobile telephone, waiting on screen change and then read out loud the new internet information to all eardrums. "I found this. Based on this internet article, Queen Bathsheba had a son by King Solomon. She didn't reside with King Solomon in the foreign country of Israel either. She lived in the country of Africa, her home country. So, if the Ark was missing from the Jerusalem temple and was not inside a mountain cave, then it had to be in another place. Right? Right! The Bible states that if one gets near the Ark, then they die. They died of radiation poisoning. This is all flowing nicely in the right direction, ya'll. The Ark went to the continent of Africa and stayed for centuries there, making people sick with the massive outpouring of radiation waves, most likely. I don't have any physical evidence, ya'll. Then, the smartass white folks started invading the country of Africa, captured, and sent all the poor African natives to work in the profitable cotton and sugar fields all over the world, including the Old South here in the USA. So, the smarter king of Africa sent the radiated Ark-in-a-box away, when all the slave ships invaded the continent of Africa. This is too simply, ya'll. We go and look up every single slavery ship from African with a final destination into the USA," he looked up with a nod to see each face.

Skippy looked down with a stern face and read out loud the mobile telephone with the new internet information also. "The slave ships were owned by the European banks, thus in turn were operated by a set of greedy boat privateers. For 300 years, the European countries forced the African natives onto a slave ship and then transported all of them across the Atlantic Ocean. The first European nation to engage in the slave trade was the country of Portugal in the 1400's. Captain John Hawkins made the first known English slaving voyage to the country of Africa in the year 1562 for Queen Elizabeth, the first of Great Britain. Hawkins captured over 1,200 African natives and sold all of them as a profitable money good item at a slave market in the Spanish colonies of the Americas, South and North. In the 245 years of slaving on slave ships between Hawkins' first voyage and the abolition of the Slave Trade in the year 1807, 10,000 voyages were launched towards the country of Africa for native as slaves. The first record of enslaved African natives within the British colony of Virginia was in the year 1619. Barbados became the first British settlement in the island of Caribbean in the year 1625 and then the British government took control of country of Jamaica in the year 1655."

Fucner looked down with a smile and read out loud on the mobile telephone the new information to all eardrums. "Hey! The oldest occupied city within the United States was established on September 8, 1565 in the city of St. Augustine within the US State of Florida which is built on top of an ancient Native American village..."

Cody turned and frowned at the brown colored hair roots of Fucner. "Do you ever follow instructions, Fucner?"

Islander looked down with a laugh and read out loud on the mobile telephone the new information to all eardrums. "Fucner didn't understand English or Spanish or French words. In the 1700s, the East India Company had a monopoly over the slave trade industry. The British and Dutch owned most of the slave ships. The US was third. The British slave ship owners became wealthy while never leaving their native country of England. This is a dead end. The British plantation owners got rich too with sets of unpaid workers that built the grand country estates of crops and livestock. The factories owners get rich by selling textiles to countries of Americas, Africa, and the West Indies. Glassware was needed to bottle the alcoholic rum. The British slave traders got rich by buying and selling all the enslaved African natives. The British bankers get rich with a set of financial interest fees on the borrowed money for long sea voyages to the country of Africa and then sea trip back home to England. Many land jobs came from the slave trade inside the hot non-air conditioned factories. In the city of Birmingham, within the country of England, there were 4,000 gun makers with 100,000 guns a year just for the slave ships and slave traders. Man! The entire industrial revolution was financed by the both sweat and blood of slaves. The biological families of slaves should sue the entire world for some financial and fun back pay," he looked up with a smile and a nod to each team member.

Fucner pointed down at the mobile telephone with a smile. "Some of the slave ship owners, not slave ship captains, came from Rhode Island, USA, where they made rum. The rum was used to trade for the slaves. Ho. Ho. Ho. And a bottle of rum," he chuckled. "O. That's where the old song comes from, a bottle of rum on the run of a ship..."

Cody frowned. "Shut up, Fucner!"

Skippy looked up with a nod to Islander. "We will help them deal with that later, Is. What else have you found for the internet assignment, Fucner?"

Yorkie looked down with a stern face and read out loud on the mobile telephone with the internet information to all eardrums. "Slaves were documented as a legal property of each ship owner which was housed as cargo. They rested horizontally on top of a long set of wooden shelves and then stacked on top of each other like a set of dried dishes. Food was scarce and disease was rampant with smallpox, dysentery. Dead or dying slaves were thrown overboard, sometimes still alive..."

"Stop!" Cody exhaled with a confused brow. "This is a set of excellent information but too much information. We are tracking down a particular slave ship that purchased a boat full of African native slaves and the Ark of the Covenant..."

"You're making an awful big fat assumption here, Cody," Yorkie looked up with a puzzled brow to see Cody.

Fucner laughed. "The root word of assumption is an ass of Cody," he looked down with a smile and tapped on the tiny screen of the mobile telephone for more fun.

Cody shook his curls. "Follow my logic here for the moment! I have a brilliant point for us to uncover. We are interested in the first township of the British colony of Jamestown within the country of Virginia which was established in the year 1607."

Islander lifted a palm with a smile and read out loud on the mobile telephone the new information for all eardrums. "I got it here for eardrums and neurons. The colony of Jamestown within the country of Virginia, in the year 1607, was called the New World, where people came to escape religious persecution. The people were similar to the Pilgrims, who were the founders of the city of Plymouth within the modern day US State of Massachusetts, who arrived in the year 1620. In both the American colonies of Virginia and Massachusetts, the colonists survived and flourished on corn that came from the Native American Indians. By the year 1620, Virginia tobacco was king and George was queen," chuckling. "By the year 1770, two million people lived and worked within the thirteen North American colonies which were owned by Great Britain. The slave trade started in the 1400s but didn't invade Jamestown until 1620..."

Fucner continued to stare with a stern face and read out loud the new information on the mobile telephone. "A ferocious-looking fellow with a scourge of many twisted curls in his hair, the slave was sold to me for 1,000 dollars or pounds or..."

Yorkie looked down with a stern face to read out the information on the mobile telephone. "I found something. In the year 1729, the slave ships delivered 563 slaves into the thirteen Britain colonies in America and then increased the delivery to an average of 20,000 slaves in the mid-1750s and finally to 45,000 slaves-per-year, during the last decade. There were 11,000 ships used for slave trade between the years 1698 and 1807. Slaves were also transferred to the Caribbean islands of Jamaica, Barbados, and Trinidad to work on all the sugar plantations and to the West Indies and the Americas," she exhaled down at the tiny screen of the mobile telephone. "This is an impossible task."

Skippy continued to stare with a stern face at the tiny screen and read out the new information from the mobile telephone. "A typical slave ship had three masts, each carried one large sail. The underside of the ship was made of elm planks that had been sealed with pitch tar as protection against the sea worms of warm tropical ocean waters of the Atlantic Ocean. The slave ship had a sharp bow, a set of raised floors with numerous hidden compartments, holding slaves, guns, cooper, iron rods, and dishes. There were eighteen guns to defend against the attack of sea pirates. Black Bart Roberts was kidnapped, as a boy, from a slave ship by a gang of sea pirates in the year 1719 and then started off his infamous career of sea pirating on all the ocean ships."

Yorkie continued to stare down with a stern face and read out loud the new information on the mobile telephone. "This is important here. Sickness was always present among the slaves, on and off the ships, and the non-slaves who lived on the lands. Land residents, including Englishmen, Native Americans, and the slaves died of tuberculosis, pneumonia, influenza, plague, measles, scarlet fever, smallpox, and malaria from a direct hand and eye and nose contact of the diseased individual. Some of the sicker slaves possessed one of different type of fevers, such like, a general fever, a malignant fever, a nervous fever, or yellow fever. Respiratory illnesses included inflammation of lungs, consumption, and then declined down into death. Gastrointestinal diseases included blood dysentery, diarrhea, and worms. In addition, there were deaths by drowning suicide when the slave escaped and then jumped over the protective side netting for catching both fish and slaves, landing in the rough ocean waves. In the year 1789, slave trader William Wilberforce said that twelve percent of all slaves died in transport, four percent died on Atlantic shores before the money profit sale, and one third died acclimating into the America soil which carried a fifty percent mortality of death or life. So sad!"

Fucner looked up with a smile and a nod to see each set of different colored hair roots, where each team member worked on the assignment, but Fucner. "And let us not forget this, my new friendlies with God! A day is like a thousand years and a thousand years are like a day to Him..."

"Shut it, Fucner!" Cody continued to stare down with a stern face at the screen of the mobile telephone and tapped on the tiny keyboard for new information.

Skippy looked up with a sour frown to see Rector. "You are not participating, Fucner."

"Naw, I am not," Fucner chuckled with a nod at Skippy.

Cody continued to stare down with a stern face at the screen of the mobile telephone and read out loud the newest information to all eardrums. "The slaves were branded. The slaves were branded. Maybe, a specific brand could lead us to the next clue, where one of the slave ships sailed from Africa to America. It says here that the slaves were all branded under a breast or on an arm which would have been burnt and branded the external skin with a red-hot iron."

Yorkie continued to stare down with a stern face at the screen of the mobile telephone and read out loud the newest information to all eardrums. "This is unique here. He writes in his personal journal in the year 1829. The ship sailed off the African coast, in the early morning, before the morning food meal. It was a very pleasant morning, without the usual exposures to the infective squad of biting mosquitoes which caused both malaria and yellow fever. The sea crew deaths, within the forty men crew, began very early which was one hour into our ocean trip in open sea. The sea waters were calm and placid with a favorable wind towards the America. The sea crew deaths peaked on the nineteenth day into the sea voyage from sixteen deaths out of forty men crew. I, the medical physician of the salve ship, was dealing with the deaths, an overwhelming challenge, without identifying a root cause of the infectious disease. I noted there was no contaminated water supply or foul air from rotten food. My medicine chest included Peruvian bark for malaria fever and other light fine powders, including rhubarb. The medicine chest also contained opium for pain. Epsom salts, gentian root, and cream of tartar, liquids of antimonial wine, and castor oil. Large numbers of bilious and purging pills. All the internal medicines were lettered for easy recognition. The external preparations included beeswax, simple ointments, extract of lead, red precipitate, and ten pounds of flowers of sulphur. For the treatment of blisters, there were plasters. All the glasses of external medicines were numbered for easy recognition. The medicine chest came with full instructions on how to treat the patient with what remedy, in case of my inconvenience.

"In my years of surgery practice, I had found a number of medical remedies very effective in saving the slave life, such like, the Peruvian bark for malaria, and the opium for pain relief. I had been led towards a hidden secret enclosure by the cabin boy, who had mumbled the word barracoon. I found with both horror and delight upon entering the small enclosed ship cabin and the slave. The dark skinned male was laid outstretched in perfect comfort inside a tiny private room, like a prince of royalty. The patient was dressed in a tiny brown colored loincloth, without his customary wrist bone and ankle bone nasty and rusty steel chains. He was not strapped down by a neck yolk either inside the inner narrow ship cabin. He was burned throughout his naked body. However, there had been no fires or fiery explosions on board the slave ship, within my excellent hearing and perfect eye vision. My blood ran cold with fear.

"The male slave was very ill with some type of catching disease. The sizzling heat from the body was different, like he was burning and suffocating all at the same time. His body stench was not unbearable from his deposited feces waste on the floor. However, the overall body stench of odor was very mild, which left me very puzzled. Our galleon was a medium-sized slaver, carrying 139 slaves, 72 males, and 60 females, and seven children. The slaves were shackled two-by-two at both the wrist bones and ankle bones. The low horizontal wooden beam above the deck was four and a half feet space, where the slave spent sixteen hours out of twenty hours of day without standing upright. Usually, a trailing single lifeboat would carry all the sick slaves behind the bow of the slave ship. However, this was not the case, today. The enclosed cabin room smelled of tobacco smoke, since it was a useful aroma over the continuous unbearable mouth and nose green tinted vomit and the anal feces of a chained slave.

"I wonder if one of the ship mates had become quite violent and then burned his cigar onto the skin of the poor chap as the young male slave was covered in a series of tiny red tinted blisters from a mysterious burn. His lips were raw and chapped too. From my closer inspection, I inferred that the slave had been forced fed to ensure good health to work in one of the numerous cotton fields within American colony of Georgia. His face was pox with a set of tiny red tinted blisters, too. I gingerly reached over and punched his naked arm with my forefinger. He did not response. I gingerly moved up and punched his cheekbone with my forefinger. He did not response. I gingerly moved down and punched his naked chest with my forefinger. He did not response. I leaned into his nostril, barely feeling a warm breath of life and hearing a cheery exhale, when I saw the ugly abrasion on his naked arm. I gingerly reached out and stoked the skin surface with my forefinger while feeling no raised red tiny blister but a raised mark. The raised mark on the naked arm skin felt like a single lettering of the Braille language that came from a blind man's learning book. The male slave had apparently scraped his arm upon a rough surface long before entering the slave ship. The raised mark was old and settled and did not seem related to the current bout of semi-circled set of tiny red tinted blisters and an overall over heated body on the external skin surface.

"I sprinkled the very effective Spanish fly assortment of mashed body parts over each raw heated surface skin of the slave male, pressing them well in with a finger and then observed with my medical trained eyes. The slave male did not response. Against an overwhelming onslaught of red tinted blistered raw boils, I could not fathom the unfamiliar disease or the brutal impact on the poor soul, when the closed door parted.

"The captain looked both sullen and silent down at the slave male over the small cot. Then the captain of the slave ship dismissed my medical services with a slight nod, staring down at the red colored male slave. I turned and left the barracoon, when I bumped into the first mate along the narrow walls of the tight sea corridor. A chap named Jonathan Richardson, his father was a formal sailor from the country of England too. He offered his usual smirk as a good sign of friendship and then tarried ahead into the tiny cabin towards the barracoon also.

"I had grown friendly with the first mate, since our sleeping hammocks swayed side by side over the rows of young slave boys from Africa. We were their unofficial guardians on their maiden voyage to the America. I stood upright in place and watched Jonathan enter the tiny ship cabin and attend to the barracoon and then turned for the internal stairs. I scrambled onto the deck to taste the luxury of fresh air and fresh drinking water from the terrible ordeal with the barracoon. I saw the first mate, climbing onto the deck and then scattered in a panic towards the cargo hold where numerous items of sugar, spices, pottery, and other tangible items were stored," she looked up with a gasp to see Skippy and then the reset of the worried faces. "This is called radiation poison and the effects on a delicate human body, including a series of tiny red tinted blisters and burn marks. The male slave must have carried the Ark on board this slave ship, as part of his royal task from the African king of the land. There is no doubt in my mind as a medical physician."

Cody looked up with a nod and a smile to see each team member. "We've found, verified, and confirmed a case of radiation poisoning on a slave ship that had departed from the country of Africa while sailing over the Atlantic Ocean waters towards the American colony of Georgia in the year. What is the year? Don't matter! Yee-haw! Now, we look up all the retired and wealthy slave ship captains, who took up residence in a colony of America. Don't bother locating or searching for any retired slave captain within the other thirteen colonies of Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Connecticut, Rhode Island, North Carolina, South Carolina, Virginia, Maryland, Delaware, New..."

Yorkie frowned at Cody. "No, the captain only commanded orders to each ship mate. The first mate was like the vice president of a company seeing to the captain's orders. We should investigate the first mate of the story, Cody. The first mate saw the burnt body and then probably find and then saw the Ark down inside the cargo hold, if the physician's personal journal could be assumed valid and accurate. The first mate Jonathan probably squatted down, touched and then opened up the wooden crate with kitty cat curiosity while exposing a face and a torso with the free flowing set of radiation particles, too. The first mate would have died next in the radiation line of deaths. Look up a first mate named Jonathan Richardson in the year 1829." Silence invaded the quiet room as everyone looked down and then performed a thumb type on the mobile telephone.

Fucner continued to stare down at the screen of the mobile telephone and read out loud the newest information to all eardrums. "I've only found a dead Jonathan Richardson, in England, from the year 1915, and one in prison, and one in business, and one in..."

"We need much more information, Cody." Islander continued to stare down with a stern face at the screen of the mobile telephone and read out loud the newest information to all eardrums

Skippy looked up with a puzzled brow to see the different types of colored hair roots as each team member was tapping onto the mobile telephone. "The captain didn't see the Ark. If the first mate saw the ark and got exposed, then he traveled back home to his native country of England, as cited in the physician's personal journal. He probably died on-board the slave ship and then his lifeless and non-breathing body was thrown overboard for the pod of hunger sharks which was common during early sea trips. Or he got really sick with the set of ugly red blisters and then he was tossed over the bow of the slave ship like one of the poor slaves from Africa. Back then, a dead body wasn't taken back home to the native country, since the captain and the ship crew were afraid of some type of nasty body or lung contamination of an unknown germ or virus. The dead body was disposed of very quickly in the sea," nodding.

Cody looked up from the mobile telephone screen with a sour frown and a huff of disappointment. "We're so close here, ya'll. This is so frustrating. Brone is on his way to collect the gold from the hidden Ark of the Covenant right now, this minute."

Islander looked up from the screen oft eh mobile telephone and scanned each team member with worried brow and a nod. "I agree. You need to alert all the numerous USA nuclear plants for a terrorist invasion. Okay! That sounded stupid coming from my lips too," exhaling.

Skippy nodded with a stern face to each member. "It is an excellent idea, Is. Since the White House has done that already. Let's perform a swifter pace and try to figure out Brone's next plan here in the States before someone gets hurt or killed."

"Before, an entire city gets burned into a pile of ashes by Brone," Fucner nodded with a stern face.

Yorkie looked down with a stern face at the screen and read out from the mobile telephone. "I found something. In the year 1712, South Carolina was the first slave state that established a slave code for marking the slave with the appropriate owner. After the slave was brought from the auction block, the owner branded his property with his unique plantation identification mark, which was used in case of a runaway slave," she looked up with a smile to see the teen-ass male. "Cody is right! All the slaves were body marked, but it was after they all had arrived on land, not during the ship voyage. This statement actually validates that the series of tiny red blisters on the poor slave male on the slave ship had possessed a set of true symptoms and signs of deadly radiation poisoning. That was a good idea, Cody. I'm out of ideas now. Does anyone else have another suggestion?"

Cody exhaled with a nod to Yorkie, "Thanks, ma'am! What am I missing here? What avenue needs to be explored next?" Silence invaded the room.

Fucner looked down with a chuckle at the screen of the mobile telephone and read out loud the newest information to all eardrums. "The history of tattoos began over 5,000 years ago. Persian women tattooed their own breasts as a mark of an exotic beauty for capturing an alluring lover," laughing. "And I bet that hurt like hellish biting fanged hounds. I would never fuck a pissed off tattooed girl in the ancient civilization of Persia. In ancient worlds of Greece and Rome, both the slaves and the criminals were all tattooed. That's an excellent idea. Here, in America, every convicted criminal should be tattooed then shunned or shot or shooted on sight," he laughed with Islander. "Let's see. Celts, Asians, English knights all tattooed a body. So why in hell didn't they catch Hepatitis C and then die? The whole world population explosion thing would have never happened. Then the globe would occupy lesser folks of one billion mouths to feed, instead of seven billion..."

Islander reached up and grabbed, lifting his personal switchblade, clicking it open with a wink at the nose profile of Fucner. "Because, man, they used their own personal sharp blade to bleed on, not their buddy's," he laughed with Cody and Skippy.

Fucner frowned. "Whatever, Is!" He looked down with a sour frown to see and read out the screen of the mobile telephone. "Africans didn't tattoo. The Negro skin is too dark to tattoo. They did scarifications or scarring their skin. Dang! I thought piercing your nose holes hurt. For a good scarification, you lift the skin a little from the bone and then make a cut with a knife. Sand grains are rubbed into the open cut wound, making a raised scar into a unique pattern on the body. That's sick and hurts. The raised scarring felt like a Braille letter or a lettering pattern to a set of naked fingertips to an observer. A young royal prince or a princess would be scarred on the upper arm of the body, where the skin muscle was the toughest..."

"Braille?" Yorkie bounced up and down inside the chair, tossing a palm into the air with a smile and a cheer. "You mentioned a Braille lettering in that interact article, Fucner."

Skippy nodded with a smile at Fucner. "He mentioned a Braille lettering type on the outer skin of the slave male on the slave ship. Where is that medical surgeon's personal story on the slave ship with the sick male slave?"

"Looking!" Yorkie looked down with a smile and performed a thumb types on the mobile telephone, reading out loud the old information. "I'm bringing it up now. I gingerly moved down and punched his naked chest with my forefinger. He did not response. I leaned into his nostril, barely feeling a warm breath of life and hearing a cheery exhale, when I saw the ugly abrasion on his naked arm. I gingerly reached out and stoked the skin surface with my forefinger while feeling no raised red tiny blister but a raised mark. The raised mark on the naked arm skin felt like a single lettering of the Braille language that came from a blind man's learning book. The male slave had apparently scraped his arm upon a rough surface long before entering the slave ship. The raised mark was old and settled and did not seem related to the current bout of semi-circled set of tiny red tinted blisters and an overall over heated body on the external skin surface," she looked up with a nod and a smile to see each face. "The scarification was on the slave's arm. O my gawd! He was really a true royal prince of Africa," she turned and winked at Cody. "This is our proof, ya'll."

Fucner reached over with a laugh and slapped the bicep of Cody with a nod. "Good going, kid! The Ark of the Covenant left the country of Israel and then rode on a camel's ass into the country of Africa. The king or a nasty member of the royal family pondered both the ark and the prince off on a slave trader, probably for lots of shiny coinage from the white man. Money makes the world go round and round and round..."

Islander said. "Look up the death records..."

Skippy said. "Look up the vessel records in the year 1829. The captain had to identify the dead slave or face some hefty money fines from the US Federal Government, during this delicate era of slave trading. Or he would have been accused of neglect and then hanged for his crime."

Islander frowned. "Why didn't they just toss the body overboard? The historical sailing records told that method was used quite often with success, when a person was sick or dead."

Skippy grinned. "Ah! This tale is a little different. There's a surgeon from England writing down everything, like a spy or an ally. There's the loss of sixteen or more crewmen out of forty. That's about forty percent of his shipping crew. The US Federal Government, the crew families, and the ship-owner will want to know who and why. The captain was smart keeping the sick slave. The ill slave had carried a contagious disease on board the ship, killing half the crew. Therefore, the captain will be cleared of any wrong doings."

Cody nodded with a stern face. "The ill slave male died on-board the slave ship. Then he would have been properly buried..."

Islander frowned. "Why are there vessel records of slaving ship? I thought the ships were, like ghosts, stealing people then dropping them off during the night under the moon."

Skippy read out loud from the mobile telephone with the new internet information. "On March 2, 1807, the US Congress outlawed the African slave trade which became effective on January 1, 1808. However, the right to buy and sell slaves and to transport them from one slave state to another was still constitutional."

Fucner exhaled. "Within the past year, US Congress acts like the present day US Congress with scores of heated large fat-ass bodies of do nothings."

Cody read out loud the internet information coming from his mobile telephone. "Okay. Every captain master of a vessel that ships out with more than forty tons was required to file a manifest of the slave cargo, the port of departure, and the port of arrival for payment of port fees. The manifests are arranged chronologically, too. The captain's name, a description of each slave on the vessel including, name, age, sex, height, name of owner or shipper, and color..."

Yorkie nodded. "SUSY-Q, bring up each slave ship manifest for the year 1826, please."

Fucner frowned. "We don't know the name of the ship, or the name of captain, and the log wouldn't name the first mate, either. This won't help our search and it will take hours, days, nights, weekends, weeks, and months to..."

Skippy nodded. "We know. We're searching for a dead slave, without a name, but with a branding mark. Cody just told you that the ship had to give a detailed description of each slave as the cargo? SUSY-Q, can you search for the word, brand?"

SUSY-Q droned. "Processing, Captain Skippy."

Skippy nodded. "The captain would not have described the prince's mark as a tattoo or a scar which could have opened up some busy bodies questions about the slave's dead plus untimely deaths of his crew. A scar or tattoo might've warned the captain of the slave's virus or contamination medical condition which the captain totally ignored for money. So, the captain would have described the precise details of the slave, including his scar to distinguish the ugly red blisters, confirming that the slave was carrying a virus, which he really was. However, the captain would have used the common term of brand or branding, as if the slave was being transported from another slave state."

SUSY-Q droned. "I have found an entry with the phrase word, branded. The slave ship is named the 'Wild Dolphin' coming from the country of England, under the captain master of Tom Clarkson. There is a single entry with the word, branded. The passage reads as follows without the proper grammar. Negro, 40 years old, male, six feet tall, brown skin tone, branding on left arm. There is an additional captain's note. The slave body with the branding died on May 13, 1829 and was buried in the cemetery at Savannah, Georgia by the first mate of the 'Wild Dolphin.' Then Jonathan Richardson departed from the ship dock port in the colony of Georgia and withdrew his commission as the first mate of the 'Wild Dolphin' the next day. He set out for the US State of Alabama, near the small town Athens, the home of his family ancestry..."

The team members sounded with cheers and claps of smiles and head nods.

Islander smiled with a nod. "We found it. Jonny-boy got sick with radiation poisoning too. He quit his job and returned back home here to my favorite US State, Alabama. We're getting so close, ya'll."

"Too close to call or cough or get radiation sickness!" Fucner laughed with a nod. "So why did he get sick with radiation poisoning too? Why is the Ark of the Covenant radiated also? How did he get so swiftly sick with radiation fever blisters too? How did the ship crew get so sick, so fast, also? My understanding, radiation poison is a slow-poke burn."

Cody nodded with a smile. "Almighty God doesn't want anyone else to see or touch His Ark. The Ark is like His private cell phone up and into heaven for use, when Brother Jesus returns back down to shitty planet Earth, after the greedy earthlings trash the land, the streams, and the atmosphere. The Ark is radiated to keep us, dummies away and not to burn a piece of fragile human flesh and boil our blood proteins into a death day."

"The teen-ass should write a sloe of new science fiction novels for a daily living, instead of a soldier," Fucner laughed.

Yorkie nodded. "The Ark is a dense potent box of captured radiation. By touching the gold, which has radiation particles, you are immediately exposed and collected onto any part of your naked or clothed body. The radiation particles are absorbed directly into your sweat glands of your epidermis. If you open the box, then your eyeballs and your nose holes are exposed also while sucking up all the radiation particles in the air and then going down into your esophagus and your two healthy lungs. I'm guessing here. Each crew member got curious and then opened up the box for a quick look-see inside for a physical treasure trophy and then each one was exposed to radiation particles similar to first mate Jonathan and the poor sick male slave. There isn't a cure for radiation poisoning even in the twenty first century, much less in the nineteenth century. They did die mercifully fast."

Fucner frowned. "How in the fuck do you know that Richardson took the Ark with him? How in the fuck don't you know that it was buried with the dead prince-slave? How in the fuck don't you know that the slave ship captain or one of the other slave ship crewmen took the damn box and then buried it one of them in their personal individual death grave too?"

Islander pointed down with a stern face at the tiny screen of the mobile telephone. "The captain master of the 'Wild Dolphin' slave ship who was named Tom Clarkson died the next year in 1830, at his home estate in the city of Savannah within the US State of Georgia from a violent ailment," he looked up with a stern face and a nod to see each face. "The box, being opened and closed by the numerous curious slave ship crew mates, probably drifted the radiation particles from a body around the slave ship for three weeks. The average sea voyage was three to four weeks all alone and isolated with the wind blowing the radiation shit around and around inside that tiny inner cabin room. The walls had been radiated too. I bet each ship mate and all the other slaves died an early death, because of the Ark of the Covenant."

Fucner frowned. "We did a run on Jonathan Richardson's death. We didn't find his gravesite."

Yorkie frowned. "There are millions of dead people and millions of tomb stones in the hard ground throughout the world. The internet doesn't name every single person that died between the beginning of time and present day. We need to pinpoint his birth or his death here in Alabama. Where is the town Athens, Alabama?"

Cody looked down with a smile and read out loud from the tiny screen on the mobile telephone the newest internet information. "It's right around the corner of here in Huntsville. I used to live there, sorta. I'm more familiar with northern portion of Bama rather than metro city Birmingham, except the small town of Athens isn't near a river basin. Athens, Alabama was incorporated in November 19, 1818, the seat of Limestone County. There are thirty-nine square miles of land and 0.1 miles of water. See? There isn't a pond lake within the county geologic landscape to drop off and sink a heavy three-foot-long Ark of solid gold. The land elevation is 798 feet. The population is over 24,000 folks. It's the oldest incorporated city in Alabama."

Yorkie smiled. "We can access the Athens Cemetery and find out when Jonathan Richardson died."

Fucner shook a brown colored skull with a sour frown. "Naw! We found him already. He lived or died within the landscape of Athens. Pull up your radiation map and ping the city of Athens within the US State of Alabama, SUSY-Q! The cute and colorful electronic outer space map will pinpoint where the radiated copper scroll is located in Athens."

Cody frowned. "The city of Athens doesn't have a fresh lake pond that could be deep enough to drown and hid a heavy three feet golden colored radiated box."

Fucner smiled. "You're going on the ass-umption that the Ark is radiated underneath the water of a fresh pond, Cody. I said my peace. Now, zap the radiation chart on the white painted wall and find the damn pond in Athens. SUSY-Q, obey and do it!" SUSY-Q caused a set of colored lights to flick off and on from the belly of the machine and then showed a complete and colored radiation chart of the United States.

Fucner frowned. "Not that map! It shows all red warning dots of dangerous radiation. Let's do the..."

Yorkie smiled. "SUSY-Q, please, pinpoint the city of Savannah within the US State of Georgia." The wall changed and showed the new geographical map of the stated request. She said. "Let us address Fucner's question first. Remove all the radiation spikes from the earth soil and outer space and all the nuclear plant facilities, please." The electronic geographical map changed with a large reduction of red tinted dots. She said. "Enlarge the cemetery square, where the dead prince-slave and Captain Tom Clarkson are buried, please!" The electronic geographical map changed with a reduced number of red tinted dots. She smiled. "Tell me the math number of the single pink radiation spike, SUSY-Q!"

SUSY-Q droned at the wall. "The radiation spike is .00000001 millirads."

Yorkie nodded with a smile at the electronic map on the wall. "The dead do glow in the dark at very low levels. I conclude that the Ark of the Covenant was not buried with the prince-slave or Captain Tom Clarkson. Therefore, the only single conclusion, the Ark went with the first mate Jonathan Richardson of the Wild Dolphin. One reason, the first mate was probably sicker with more radiation poisoning. Second, all the slave ship crew members were devoted to a good captain, making them good money, especially during the slave trade era. Richardson would have carted off that weird looking golden tinted box with the weird contents to preserve his captain honor, like a good seaman. Three, Richardson was very sick during his land travels while heading back home to Alabama for rest and recuperation, not understanding the medical concept of radiation sickness. He wasn't thinking about the Ark but only getting home and getting better with his health. SUSY-Q, please, show us the Athens Cemetery!" The electronic geographic map shows the square area in pink. She frowned at the electronic image on the wall. "Hmm! I expected to see a set of higher pink spikes within a body of water..."

"There are not any fresh lakes in or around or surrounding the small town of Athens, Alabama. I just told ya'll that a few minutes ago," frowned Cody.

Yorkie frowned at the wall image. "The pink spike is almost the same measurement as the city of Savannah within the US State of Georgia."

Islander frowned at the wall image also. "Does a dead body give off radiation, Yorkie?"

Yorkie frowned at the image on the wall. "Not after death! SUSY-Q, please, pinpoint the grave site of Jonathan Richardson on the electronic wall map."

Fucner frowned at the image on the wall too. "How can SUSY-Q do that?"

Skippy smiled. "She accesses all the outer space satellites then scans in real time the geographical area..."

The belly of SUSY-Q swiftly flashed in a series of colored lights. Then wall image disappeared leaving the white painted wall as she droned to each pair of eardrums. "There is not a physical tombstone for the deceased person named Jonathan Richardson, Doctor Yorkie."

Yorkie frowned at the white paint on the all. "Hmm! There is not a high radiation spike or a body of water or a tombstone for Jonathan Richardson. SUSY-Q, check all the death record archives for deceased Jonathan Richardson."

The belly of SUSY-Q swiftly flashed in a series of colored lights. Then the radiation map on the image disappeared leaving the white painted wall as she droned to all the eardrums. "There is no mention of a deceased named Jonathan Richardson."

"I'm getting worried," smiled Cody.

"I'm getting nervous," smiled Islander.

"I'm getting thirsty," laughed Fucner.

Yorkie frowned at the white painted wall. "Hmm! SUSY-Q, is there another grave cemetery site within Limestone County? If so, please show the electronic physical map on the wall first, and then locate the tombstone of the deceased Jonathan Richardson second." The belly of SUSY-Q swiftly flashed in a series of colored lights. Then a new electronic geographical map appeared showing flat scattered pods of green grass and dull red dirt between each vertical shaped gray colored stone tombstone and as she droned for all eardrums. "The Legg Cemetery is located in the western part of Limestone County. There is no location of a tombstone for one, who is deceased Jonathan Richardson, Doctor Yorkie."

Cody nodded with a smile at the new wall map. "I think that we're getting closer, ya'll. SUSY-Q, check all the electronic historical files for one, who is deceased Jonathan Richardson," he laughed with Fucner and Islander.

"Good one!" Islander reached over and fist bumped with a smile to Cody.

The belly of SUSY-Q swiftly flashed in a series of colored lights without changing the electronic geographical map on the white painted wall that continued to show a scene of green tinted grass, red tinted dirt, and gray colored stone tombstones and as she droned for all eardrums. "There is not a name for one, who is deceased Jonathan Richardson, Mr. Cody."

Yorkie smiled at the same wall image. "SUSY-Q, search all available electronic historical archives for each individual name of one, who is deceased Jonathan and then the other one, who is deceased Richardson," she laughed with the others.

The belly of SUSY-Q swiftly flashed in a series of colored lights without changing the electronic geographical map on the white painted wall that continued to show a scene of green tinted grass, red tinted dirt, and gray colored stone tombstones and as she droned for all eardrums. "There is not an individual reference to either the singular proper name Jonathan or Richardson."

"Dead end!" Fucner tossed both arms into the air with a laugh and a nod.

Yorkie smiled at the same electronic image on the wall. "SUSY-Q, please send an electronic listing of every grave head stone name coming from the Legg Cemetery to all the team members on every mobile telephone."

Each mobile telephone sounded with a different set of musical tones as the same electronic report was downloaded into the memory of the phone. Fucner frowned down at the mobile telephone while trying to download all the new information. "My cell doesn't have that much space left..."

"It will after you purge out all the porn pics," Islander chucked with Cody.

Skippy frowned with annoyance. "Fucner, that cell phone is the property of the US Federal Government for business use, not personal use. You remove all your personal shit, tonight."

Yorkie looked down with a smile to see each team member while the information was downloading onto the mobile telephone. "SUSY-Q is too swift, ya'll. The gravesite listing is continuing to download now. I want everyone to review each name. I suspect that Jonathan Richardson might have died very quickly from radiation poisoning. Back then, in the year 1829, people were both stupid and superstitious. We have tracked him to here in Alabama. Therefore, Jonathan came home, not from war, and then died. The old country doctor would have found Jonathan dead in the bed or on top of the sofa and then would have pronounced him gone. The funeral was quick and fast to prevent a panic of an unknown illness within the eyeballs of the medical physician and the small tight net community.

"Mr. Richardson probably looked like a piece of good tasting pork rib, red, and gooey. That image would scare, even a modern day city physician. Based on my medical assumptions, Jonathan Richardson is buried somewhere here. The Legg Cemetery was the first burial plots in the small town of Athens without our great state of Alabama, before opening the present day Athens Cemetery. Now, the Legg Cemetery does not allow any more burials there anymore, since the 1970s. So God speed and good luck to us right now!" She exhaled with a nod to each face and then looked down with a stern face, typing on the keyboard, reading all the new information on the tiny screen of the mobile telephone. "Hmm! The graveyard listing is divided between white graves and black graves. I see the dates of a few deceased infants. One was five weeks old. There is a set of twins at two months and five days old. They all died in the year 1886. So, sad! Wow! This man belonged to Company 'B' of the 50th Alabama Infantry. William and David were biological brothers who were killed in front of the Ezra Church during the Battle of Atlanta, in the US State of Georgia, in July 1865. They were born in the month November of the year 1835. They were only thirty years old at death in the Civil War," she exhaled with a sad heart. "Unbelievable! As I see this graveyard listing of real people who lived really back then and each one had fought in a war and then died on top of American soil for a cause..."

Skippy looked down with an angry brow and continued to type on the tiny keyboard, silently reading the new information on the tiny screen of the mobile telephone also. "This is why we are finding and fighting evil USA villain Brone to keep our America Heritage alive and well and then pass our free country onto each one of our grandchildren."

Fucner frowned down at the tiny screen on the mobile telephone with the new information. "No Richardson."

Islander looked up with a stern face and a nod to see the blonde hair roots of Yorkie. "There's no Richardson. I agree with Fucner. I don't see the name, who is deceased Richardson, first or last on my graveyard listing."

Yorkie continued to type and silently read each line of the graveyard listing electronic report with a stern face on the tiny screen of the mobile telephone, "Alright! This method is working properly either. I'm not finished with my examination, ya'll. He has to be here somewhere," she looked up with a nod to see the rear metal back spine of the robot. "Please bring up the cemetery name listing onto the white paint of the forward wall in alphabetic order, if you can, SUSY-Q."

The front plasma based belly on SUSY-Q swiftly flashed in a series of colored lights. Then the wall image disappeared leaving the white painted wall as she droned to all the eardrums, "Processing, Doctor Yorkie." Then the electronic information shined in the color of rich black on the white wall showing an individual row that consisted of a last, a first name, and a set of numeric dates.

Yorkie studied the rows of information on the wall. "Please scroll down every five seconds to a new row, SUSY-Q."

The front plasma based belly on SUSY-Q swiftly flashed in a series of colored lights. Then each individual row slowly rolled upward on the white painted wall and as SUSY-Q droned. "Yes, Doctor Yorkie."

Ten minutes later

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Fucner rolled both eyeballs into his straight hairline, scratched the hair roots, and stood upright from the chair with an ugly yawn of boredom, slamming the chair away from both legs, swinging around to face the buffet table with a smile which consisted of numerous columns of cold and hot beverages and numerous trays of hot and cool food items. The other team members sat at the table and stared at the wall of rich black tinted electronic information with a stern face.

Yorkie stared at the wall of information and shook her curls with a confused brow. "I was so certain."

Islander stared at the wall of black tinted electronic information with a gasp. "Stop, SUSY-Q! This is an electronic file of the names, not a roster. Enlarge the bottom row of sentences, please, SUSY-Q." The bottom row of sentences in black letters appeared bigger on the white painted wall. Islander read out loud the electronic information for all eardrums. "The grave markers of number one through 855 do not appear within this text. The visual presentation is represented as individual flat head tombstone with the etched inscription which is embedded down into the ground soil. Well, that ends our electronic search inside the office. We are going to have to physical tour the Legg Cemetery with a pair of cowboy boots and a stick for all the snakes," he looked down with a stern face and typed on the keyboard of the mobile telephone for new information.

Fucner stood in front of the refreshment table and continued to load food items onto a tall pile plate of food with a stern face. "What kind of snakes live and thrill inside an ancient graveyard?"

"Eastern coral snake, cottonmouth, diamond back, rattler snake, all the snakes are all of the venomous kinds. Does that answer your query, Fucner?" Islander looked up from the mobile telephone with a smile and reached over, fist bumping with Cody as they both laughed.

"Fuck you, Is!" Fucner continued to load food items onto the pile of food with a sour frown in front of the refreshment table.

Yorkie shook her curls at the individual rows of black colored information on the white colored wall. "Not necessarily! SUSY-Q, could you please use your optic lenses and then scan the Legg Cemetery and then display each embedded flat head tombstone on the wall, one at a time, as you only find each grave death in the year 1829, only? Thank you!"

The belly of SUSY-Q swiftly flashed in a series of colored lights and the wall image disappeared leaving the white painted wall and as she droned for all eardrums. "Doctor Yorkie."

Fucner slowly swung around with the plate of food and returned back to the chair with a sour frown, sitting down and placed the plate of food on the table in front of a chest, reaching out and lifted, silently reading a batch of new text messages from an assortment of assorted females that he met inside the hotel lounge last night with a grin. "He ain't here. What's the next step, Doctor Yorkie? O. I know. We break for lunch."

"Lunch is on the wall, Fucner!" Cody stared down at the tiny screen of the mobile telephone with a laugh.

Fucner laughed down at the tiny screen of the mobile telephone and silently read each sexy text from each sexy girl with a grin. "That's only a snack. It's still morning time, so it my snack time. I wanna a real lunch with meat and potatoes and pecan pie for the mid-day meal."

Islander nodded with a smile at the white wall. "We go to the local courthouse and then search by hand each paper record inside the historical records room. There would be a listing of every death in the year 1829 plus the known ailment of death. Is that right, Yorkie?"

Yorkie nodded with a smile at the white wall. "Correct, Islander!" She exhaled with defeat. "Yes, I can do that part of the research with my free time."

Skippy turned and frowned at her nose profile. "How do you know about the location and the existence of the ancient and older Legg Cemetery as opposed to the new Athens Cemetery?"

Yorkie turned to see Skippy and lifted, wiggling the mobile telephone near a smile. "There is always an older shut-down cemetery within any type of ancient townships. Usually, the ancient and old cemetery was family owned while making money for the family coming from all the deceased bodies. And then finally, the local city government came in and purchased all the surrounding lands for a set of grave plots, where the poorer families could bury their dead kinfolks besides down in the unplowed farm lands. Or the local government would purchase plots of new land away from the ancient family own cemetery for numerous grave plots for the entire county. The old and ancient family owned cemetery was closed off mostly from the public's interest, while the local city government inherited the cost and maintenance of both the plots and the tombstones, both cheap and easy. I also accessed the internet information before, while the robot was processing my request. I wasn't certain but quite confident that there was a second grave site."

Cody looked down with a stern face and typed on the tiny keyboard of the mobile telephone, reading out loud the new information for all eardrums. "The Legg Cemetery is located in the western part of Limestone County. That is almost out of the city limits of Athens, if I remember correctly..."

She looked down with a stern face and typed on the tiny keyboard of the mobile telephone. "Actually, it is located inside a tiny township know called Tanner," she read out loud the new information from the mobile telephone for all eardrums. "Hmm! The first mayor of Athens was ironically named Sam Tanner. As the new mayor, Sam Tanner incorporated all of the western part of the Limestone Country directly into the Athens city limits. The Tennessee River lies along the southwestern edge in both Morgan and Limestone countries..."

The belly of SUSY-Q swiftly flashed in a series of colored lights. Then, the wall changed into an electronic gray tinted picture with a flat headstone and exhibited a set of black tinted words that were surrounded by green tinted, tall weeds and red tinted dirt. The female voice from the robot droned for all eardrums. "The first flat and embedded tombstone with a deceased death in the year 1829 states the name Old Mack. The tombstone is chiseled with a single sentence of words and a single calendar date: He burnt inside his home. 20th February 1829."

Fucner looked up with a laugh to see the wall that showed the gray tombstone and the black colored sentence of words. "Is that a joke, or what? It ain't very funny, ya'll."

"No, it is not a joke." Yorkie looked up with a stern face to see the same wall image along with the other faces of the team. "During the early nineteenth century, the United States received thousands of immigrants coming from numerous foreign countries throughout the world. Some of the immigrants could not read or write their own given name. And some of the immigrants were alone while trying to make a pitiful living to support a biological family back home of their native country. Or some of the immigrants were running away from the scene of poverty and starvation and came to the new land of America for food and opportunity which might have been one of your great-great-great grandparents, by the way. Since, we are not the natives of North American continent. Each one of us comes from an immigrant family unit by boat, by train, by plane, and by foot. When a tragic accident occurred here on America soil, sometimes the local neighbors didn't know the dead immigrant personally or socially. I suspect that Old Mack might be a very good example of an immigrant, who couldn't speak English. The poor man died on a cold night here in Alabama, when the heated fireplace ashes caught on his wool blanket and then burned him into burning cinders. So sad! This is not our man. Please show us the next flat tombstone, SUSY-Q!"

The belly of SUSY-Q swiftly flashed in a series of colored lights. Then the wall changed into a second electronic gray tinted picture with a flat headstone and exhibited a set of black colored words that were surrounded by green tinted, tall weeds and red tinted dirt. The robot droned for all eardrums. "The second tombstone with a death deceased person in the year 1820 states the name Old Pete. The tombstone is chiseled with a single sentence and a single calendar date: He died under the plow. 10th August 1829."

Yorkie exhaled at the wall image. "No. Please show us the next tombstone, SUSY-Q!"

The belly of SUSY-Q swiftly flashed in a series of colored lights. Then the wall changed into a third electronic gray tinted picture with a flat headstone and exhibited a set of black tinted words which were surrounded by tall, green tinted weeds and red tinted dirt. The robot female voice droned for all eardrums. "The third tombstone with a death deceased person in the year 1820 states the name Old Red. The tombstone is chiseled with a single sentence and a single calendar date: He died red and juicy like a cooked beef rib. 22th May 1829."

Fucner laughed with a nod with the other team members. "What in the hell does that mean red and juicy like a cooked beef rib? Did the local folks bury their favorite pig after consumption?"

Yorkie giggled and then covered a mouth, wiping off the tears of laughter, staring at the wall image of the third tombstone. "I...I...we...found Jonathan Richardson. I was only joking about his body being covered in red and gooey burning liquid. This is our man here underneath the flat tombstone. Jonathan Richardson died in the tiny township of Tanner with the US State of Alabama on May 18, 1829."

Islander looked down with a stern face and typed on the keyboard, reading out loud the new information on tiny screen of the mobile telephone. "I can confirm that too. The rural farm town of Tanner is an unincorporated community among the tri-cities of Athens, Decatur, and Huntsville. It lies right on the banks of the Tennessee River. So the fresh water river is housing the golden box of the Ark of the Covenant that drowned in the water. This is it, ya'll. The tiny township of Tanner has humid sub-tropic climate also."

Fucner frowns. "The atmosphere weather is hot sizzling summertime temperatures here, so each body wear a tub of deodorant and a pair clean manly underwear."

Islander smiled with a yell and raised both arms into the air, "Yeehaw! Are we leaving for Tanner, Alabama, right now, skipper?"

Yorkie stared at the wall image with a stern face. "SUSY-Q, please bring up the colored radiation map for the metro city Huntsville within the US State of Alabama. Then, please remove from the radiation map the following objects, the outer space radiation spikes, the Huntsville nuclear plant radiation spikes, and then the entire planet earth radiation spikes for all the people, the animals, the land soil, the sea waters, and all the man-made machines within the cities of Athens, Decatur, and Huntsville. Then, I would like for you to display all the remaining tiny radiation spikes in the format of pink dots. Thank you, SUSY-Q!" The belly of SUSY-Q swiftly flashed in a series of colored lights. Then the wall changed into a tiny spot of pink hue on the new electron map of the USA on the white painted wall.

Skippy shook a skull with a smile at the new wall image, "Holy shit!"

"My mama!" Cody dropped open a mouth with a gasp.

"His mama," Islander pointed with a smile at Cody and stared at the new wall image.

"I can't believe that the spike is not colored in rich yellow butter, because it is yellow gold on the Ark of the Covenant. We are ridiculously wealthy rich, ya'll. Can I have one of the two wings from the cherubs, only one? I am right now placing my greedy request for a piece of the golden Ark. Please, could you ask Mr. President for me, Yorkie," Fucner nodded and clapped with a chuckle.

Yorkie smiled at the wall image. "SUSY-Q, please locate the single pink radiation spike."

The belly of SUSY-Q swiftly flashed in a series of colored lights. Then the wall enlarged to show a curvy plot of red tinted wet river bank behind a field of flat green colored tall weeds and grass, a blue colored sky overhead, and massive amount of blackish tinted water that splashed over the river bank and as she droned for all eardrums. "The geographical location of the single radiation spikes in pink dot is measured at North 34.67787 degree-latitude and West 86.99334 degree-longitude. The geographical location is named Swan Creek which is located inside Limestone County. The closest residential geographical landmark is 18936 Harris Road in the township of Tanner within the US State of Alabama. The only transportation mod to the specific location of Swan Creek is provided by water transport only. The single radiation spike of pink dot is emitting .0000813 millirads coming from underneath the fresh water of the Tennessee River, Doctor Yorkie."

Cody stood upright from the chair and danced side to side, clapping with a grin. Fucner followed the movement of Cody. They scooted and hip bumped and fist bumped with laughs and hoots of fun. Skippy laughed with Islander at the silly redneck dance of the two males.

Yorkie turned to smile at the two silly dancing males and then returned back to see the wall image with a stern face. "The White House believes it is a riddle which indicates the first explosion of a US nuclear plant, since Brone has identified every single nuclear monitoring station on his cute little electronic website map for the entire world to see. The website map actually shows the real the first projected target. Brone is stirring up major trouble within the American public and with the American politicians. However, which US nuclear plant is evil USA villain Brone going to blow up into the pieces of red fire and hot metal while stealing a sliver of the copper scroll underneath the Tennessee River remains a mystery to the government boys and girls?"

Fucner slid back down into the seat and grabbed the potato chips, tossing both arms into the air as the food items flew across the hard surface with a frown of fury. "Wait a fucking minute here! A human jewelry thief and a concrete nuclear plant have nothing in common, ya'll. What is really going on here that involves my ass, Skippy?"

Yorkie swung around with a nod and a stern face to see each team member. "The common denominator is only an illegal gang of zealous terrorists, who want to blow up our America home piece by piece and body by body, since they are really a set of crusaders of Almighty God."

Islander frowned. "What dumbass idiot invited all those illegal boys and girls into my home state of Alabama to terrorize citizens to death and burn the cotton fields down?"

Skippy smiled. "The dead and buried Governor Ashmore from the great State of Alabama receives that honor in which the zealot gang of illegal immigrants reciprocated back with an array of firing bullets."

Fucner shook a skull in frustration. "Fucking ass figures! Gawd damn fucking politicians ain't worth a damn ten percent copper penny..."

"The US Congress eliminated the copper mineral from every penny within the US currency system. It is only .001 percent of copper element and .9991 of something else. So, what does Brone want with a piece of melted down gold inside a busted box that was once the Ark of the Covenant where it is now dumped and drowned pieces of numerous petrified wood products underneath the water in the Tennessee River?"

Cody shook a skull. "I was proposing a theory, not the real answer. Brone can buy his own gold with his billions of dollars."

Islander shook a skull. "Brone cannot and will not within this world economy. He cannot sell that massive quantity of solid gold piece not without immediate suspicious and heavy questioning and not without the discovery of his secret identity as a jewelry thief, a mass murdered, a terrorist agent, an illegal alien, and whatever else the bastard is."

Cody nodded with a stern face. "Good point, Is."

Fucner grinned with a nod. "What about this Shego-dingo-mystery short male in the recorded video inside this building who murdered tiny Alvin-girl and who also beat the shit out of our skipper?" he chuckled with Cody and Islander.

Yorkie turned and nodded to Skippy. He nodded to her. Then Yorkie turned and stared at each team member. "Shego is the dead girlfriend, who is also named Sheba, who is both named a male Alvin and a female Dorothy. Yeah! It is really both confusing and complicated. Dorothy had a sex change operation into Alvin. The White House believes that original female Dorothy was one of his many girlfriends who were doing one of his many dangerous tasks here on USA soil and sky and sea. I agree with Skippy. Dorothy was seeking revenge, when she had recognized Skippy, accidentally of course, while Skippy was tailing her really lousy, of course..."

"Hey!" Skippy laughed.

Yorkie exhaled. "The pageant explosion was a ruse coming from Brone. He is really after all the copper scrolls inside a weather-beaten and drowned wooden chest underneath the water of the Tennessee River."

"Naw!" Islander frowned.

Skippy frowned, "Nope."

"Yeah," Cody raised both palms with a smile and a nod.

Fucner shook a skull. "O no! The kid raised his hand. He has got the right answer, again, teacher."

Cody smiled. "Hey! I read. The latest buzz, buzz from the busy bees, the Ten Commandments were imprinted upon two copper scrolls by God, not a set of rock stones. Some modern day scholar or a priest found a tiny piece of a mineral coated copper scroll which dated back about 3,000 years, even with the same time period of the stone tablets of the Ten Commandments and the Ark of the Covenant.

"In the Book of First King, Chapter 7 and verse14, 'He was the son of a widow of the tribe of Naptali and his father was a man of Tyre, a worker of bronze. He came to King Solomon and did his work on the temple.' The front porch of Solomon's Temple, the first temple of Jerusalem was designed with a set of two copper pillars, the tops in the shape of copper lilies. Eventually, the temple was built with an inner chamber holding the Ark of the Covenant. The lengthwise wall on the Jewish temple were decorated with twelve oxen, where three faced north. Three faced west. Three faced south, and three faced into the eastern sunrise. All rear parts were inward. The temple took thirteen years to complete. Solomon also built a residential house within the forest of Lebanon. Within the stated color hues from in the Bible, the Hebrew word nechosheth translates as bronze or copper. Copper was a metal highly prized for its strength and durability.

"In the Book of Genesis, Chapter 4 and verse 22, 'Zillah gave birth to Tubal Cain, the forger of bronze and iron.' The word bronze is symbolized by suffering and sacrifice. In the Book of Job 28:2, 'iron is taken from the dust. Copper is smelted from rock.' Gold is the first metal of the ancient days of Moses. Copper is the oldest work metal tools which is combined with some type of alloy. The word copper appears in the Book of Ezra, Chapter 8, verse 27, 'two copper eating utensils.' In the Book of Second Timothy, Chapter 4, verse 13, 'when you come, bring my cloak, my scrolls, especially the parchments. The coppersmith did me a great deal of harm.' Whatever that message is meant to reveal to the devious coppersmith? Anyways, there are two types of writing materials, a metal copper scroll or a paper parchment that was used by the Egyptian culture first. A coppersmith had the ability to write on top of a soft copper scroll. Copper was combined from two percent tin which produced bronze that was hard enough to be used for weapons, armor, utensils, scrolls, and sculptures. The entire small country of Cyprus was the major source of copper minerals in the Mediterranean. Copper is a reddish metal that can be easily shaped by hammering out the images, pictures, words, weapons, utensils, and then polishing it into a shining finished product. I offer my arguments."

Yorkie smiled with a nod. "All of Cody's words are both accepted and approved too."

Islander frowned with frustration. "This man, who is named Brone, is claiming ownership of the copper scrolls, because his 'great-to-whatever-power' grandfather that came from the ancient history of the real Bible was a worker of bronze too."

Fucner frowned. "First, Brone was stealing the ring of King Solomon and then the Ark of the Covenant from the country of Israel and now the copper scrollies from God. I'm getting really confused first and thirsty second. SUSY-Q, please bring me a tall cold mug of beer. Thank you!"

The belly of SUSY-Q swiftly flashed off leaving the wall in stark white paint and turned to face the open archway, strolling ahead in her robot feet and droned. "Yes, Mr. Fucner," she exited out the room.

Yorkie nodded with a stern face to each team member. "I believe the mystery man who is nicknamed Brone is deceiving everyone with his mentally sick games and all the physical murderous schemes. A piece of 3,000-year-old petrified wood exists somewhere. A sliver of copper scroll exists somewhere, too," she reached down below the table edge and rummaged around inside her open briefcase at the feet, sitting upright, lifting a tiny piece of black tinted wood near a smile to see each team member. "Rusting is a specific term for the corrosion of all iron compounds. Gold is the most inert and non-reactive of all the earth metals, since it will never rust in an oxygen atmosphere or in liquid solution. Copper and nickel do not rust either. Petrified wood does not rust either. But, all these earth minerals can absorb and hold radiation particles for millions of years. When you add the wood and the copper together, you get an Ark of the Covenant. When you mix a single international thief plus a gang of international terrorists, you get a land of Americans killed. You are my new team of saving free and brave Americans. And I'm trying to figure out which nuclear plant the terrorists will blow up first."

SUSY-Q returned back into the conference room and toted a large tray of beer mugs, stopping and stood between Islander and Fucner, leaning over and slid the new tray of cold mugs of beer over the hard surface for each occupant. She stood upright and back stepped from the conference room, stopping and stood at attention while waiting for another command. Fucner reached over with a grin and grabbed, snatching a cold mug of beer, leaning back, gently sipping with a loud slurp and swallowed with a loud groan.

Cody pointed to the white painted wall without an image with a stern face and a nod. "Brone answered that question for you, Yorkie. The metro city of Huntsville is the one number outer space pinging station within the world. It carries the highest number of red dots which number 420 on his web site. SUSY-Q, please bring up the Heavenly Incorporated web site that contained the USA electronic geographical map and then place back onto the white painted wall." The belly of SUSY-Q swiftly flashed in a series of colored lights. Then the wall showed a map of American with a set of red dots. He pointed at the map. "Thanks, SUSY-Q! Brone has already danced our radiation two-step using the same logical steps while pinpointing the Ark of the Covenant right here in Alabama underneath the Tennessee River also. However, he doesn't know the exact location like us, rednecks either. SUSY-Q, please show us the radiation map around the Huntsville nuclear plant only." The electronic geographical map enlarged to show a reduced number of red dots around the tall and white buildings. Cody grinned with a nod. "The nuclear plant pumps out tons of radiation ions which hits up into the clouds, over the dry land, and down into the fresh water. That is why the radiation map is useless as it all lighted in bright pink for radiation spikes. Brone can't figure out it either, except I bet he ain't no fisherman like me and my friend Brother Jesus. He is probably systematically scampering in a wet suit around the river banks with a Geiger counter looking for a radiation spike, hoping for some quick luck. Brone has been here in metro city Huntsville for three long hot days and two longer sizzling nights underneath our watchful eyeballs too. He has accomplished half of his primary goal. I translate for ya'll.

"Brone has figured out a 3,000-year-old remnant of the Ark of the Covenant hides inside the Tennessee River by using the outer space look and see radiation electronic map which we are viewing also. Two, he has been blowing people up from downtown Birmingham to uptown Huntsville while scaring all the shit turds out of every law enforcement officer between southern metro city Birmingham up towards the northern Tennessee state line while homing in on his primary target, the river bank. Three, he was brilliant setting up the pretend outer space ping website. Every scientist and redneck are outside on top of the manicured lawn or inside the cow pasture or on top of the smooth waves of the river with a newly purchased nail brusher while pinging a dick and then the sky for a set of pink colored radiation spikes with Brone as one of them.

"And everyone is not thinking about the nuclear plant but their own ass. Four, he is moving, probably right now. While, everyone is too mourning and too mad at the recent tragic deaths of all the pretty young and adult beauty contestants which is being televised all over the television stations, the daily newspapers, the worldwide internet, and every cell phones, not watching for Bone on a top of a single fishing boat in a wet suit with a Geiger counter."

"Yeah, I concur with Cody." Skippy slapped both hands over the edge of the table with a huff of worry. "We need to move out and roll over the land soil, right now, too."

Cody lifted both palms with a grin and a chuckle viewing each team member. "Ya corndogs, don't get it. Wait! I gotta share more new information."

Fucner chewed and swallowed the food with a sour frown. "You can give me the new information, right after I finish my beer," he sipped and swallowed the cold beer with an open mouth which sounded with a loud burp. "Good stuff!"

Cody smiled. "The Tennessee River was expanded from the God-made Cherokee River, when the land flooded from the average rain storms. So, the Tennessee River is a system of dams and locks operated by the TVA or Tennessee Valley Authority. The fresh water river controls the flood waters, feeds the fertile farmlands in the lower regions along the river banks, and offers boating recreational fun and fishing adventures for the locals. Because, the river is a dam..."

"Damn," Fucner mouth spat out all chewed up food particles over the plate and the table with a sour frown, "So, there is something else to go wrong, as usual. I'm on the losing basketball team. Brone is going to try to sabotage the damn dam," he chuckled with a nod.

Cody shook his curls with a smile. "Actually, Brone would be smarter to raise the water level way around the low lying creeks, particularly at the hidden location of Swan Creek. It would make our rescue of the gold extremely difficult. The average water level is sixteen feet which is a good home for snakes. Yeah, shit! You can't see your own four fingers in the shallow waters of the Tennessee River. It was made by man, not by God. The visibility is a negative ten or more. This is not the crystal clear ocean waters of the Pacific or the seaweed waters of the Gulf of Mexico or the cold waters of the Atlantic Ocean. The river is nothing but groves of chopped down oak tree stumps, coming from a swampy forest in the 1930s, before I was even birthed. One of us needs to travel to Marshall County to the city of Guntersville. Guntersville has a population of 8,000 people. Guntersville was founded by John Gunter, who was born in year 1765 and then died in the year 1835. He was the great-grandfather of the humorist Will Rogers. Every month in July, the town holds the Will Rogers Festival..."

"I be damned." Skippy nodded with a nod. "I didn't know that fact," laughing.

Cody reached up and lifted up the mobile telephone, typing onto the tiny keyboard, reading out the new information the tiny screen. "The city of Guntersville sits on top a 69,000-acre lake, the biggest lake in Alabama. Guntersville, Alabama is located at the southern point of the Tennessee River, where the Guntersville Dam was built by the TVA. One of us needs to ensure that Brone or one of Brone's crony does not come and sabotage that particular dam. This is a critical leak where flood waters would destroy the river town of Decatur and then increase the water level at the hidden pinged location of the golden pieces of the Ark at Swam Creek while drowning the persons in the process who will be looking for the gold. This is not going to be as easy as it sounds, lady and gentlemen."

Skippy nodded with a stern face. "Each one of us completely understands."

Islander exhaled. "Okay. We have solved the mysterious location of the Ark of the Covenant. So, let's talk about ending world hunger or setting up world peace. I wished life really worked like this. What about all the mysterious dead bodies from the Miss Starlit Pageant? How do they fit together?"

Cody tossed a palm into the air with a smile and a nod, "This is too perfect and too ingenious, ya'll. There is a scheduled TVA Scavenger Hunt which is being held on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday of this week along the Tennessee River with a set of nightly colorful and loud fireworks and numerous free picnic baskets and dozens of fishing rodeos with a paid prize money to commemorate the eighty birthday of the Tennessee Valley Authority partnership with all the US States bordering the river banks..."

"Fuck it, Cody!" Fucner gasped with alarm. "People and dogs are going to die from the flooding or Brone."

Skippy frowned, "Naw! We will be stopping it all. Where do we go to register for the fishing tournament, Cody?"

Cody smiled. "Folks will be camping, fishing, boating, swimming. We need a legal fishing permit. Fishing isn't allowed at the recreational sights with the boating and skiing. We can obtain a fishing permit from the Decatur City Hall, SUSY-Q."

The television-like head of SUSY-Q swiftly flashed in a series of colored lights while continuing to display the geographical map of the Huntsville nuclear plant on the white painted wall and as her voice droned in a female alto for all eardrums, "Processing your request, Mr. Cody."

Cody nodded with a smile. "Because, the Alabama park rangers love to harass folks about non-permits and sometimes dump your ass in jail for a day or two just for shit and giggles, since they can and they do."

Skippy clapped with a smile. "We need fishing boats, fishing gear, a car, and air transportation from the city of Huntsville down into the city of Decatur."

Islander pointed the side of the wall with a confused brow. "The city of Decatur is right up the road which is less than thirty minutes from here by a car ride, skipper."

Skippy shook a skull with a smile. "Naw! We will go as a gang of rich billionaires to blend into the fun festival. Brone won't be searching for a group of nicely dressed billionaires for a good time fishing expedition, who come out of town. Brone visited our secret location when he followed Alvin-Dorothy girl-man. We have to leave the town, literally. SUSY-Q, please arrange four first class seats for a flight outta Huntsville on Thursday morning at the earliest hour possible..."

"Processing, Captain Skippy," SUSY-Q droned and as the television-like head swiftly flashed in a series of colored lights while continuing to display the geographical map of the Huntsville nuclear plant on the white painted wall.

Skippy smiled. "We land in B'ham, get some new clothes, and then fly into a private air strip near Tanner. Then, we rent a chopper taking us to the hot spot of Swan Creek on the Tennessee River. We recover the copper scrolls and get out there. Brone will be too late. Then, we spend the rest of the festival, tracking down his ass at the birthday celebration. Yeehaw!"

Yorkie leaned down below the table edge and rummaged around down inside the briefcase again, sitting upright and leaned over the table, passing out a set of single sheet of paper to each team member with a stern face. "All the beauty contestants around the world, they were all the lost victims of Brone's plot, Islander. Everyone needs to sign this piece of paper, before going off and maybe getting killed. The paper is a legal document bequeathing all your assets back to the US Federal Government. At this moment, in your life, you do not have any surviving family members or kissing cousins, as we, Southerns like to proclaim a little too proudly and loudly. This is standard protocol in a dangerous situation, especially for American warriors like you. As a matter of fact, the bottom line reads in tiny letters, the survivors of your mission get your entire bank account plus assets minus the liabilities, since you didn't need it in heaven," smiling.

Cody reached over and grabbed, sliding the paper in front of a chest first, quickly reading and then signed the single sheet of paper and slid it back to Yorkie with a smile in silence. The other team members copied his movements and signed the single piece of paper, sliding it back to Yorkie in silence.

She accepted and reviewed each paper with a signature and a date. "I'll work with SUSY-Q to get the required fishing permit, the sea and land fishing gear, and each land, sea, and air transport for your trip to the town of Decatur. I will not be joining the billionaire boys. But I will be monitoring your progress for any type of emergency. I do have some long purse strings, if anything happens badly," she leaned down and grabbed up the briefcase from the floor with an armful of signature papers, standing upright with a smile to see each team member. "Chow, ya'll!"

Skippy stood upright with a smile and stared at the back spine of Yorkie with a smile. "Today is Monday. I'm ordering two days of vacation for us here in Huntsville. I'm helping get our gear and transports with Yorkie. We meet right back here at 211 Clinton Avenue and then take a rented limo to the airport and then board the rented jet plane on Thursday, at five o'clock. We fly back home to Birmingham. Then, a limo will come and pick you up at your personal residence at seven o'clock. The limo will travel to a smaller private air strip with an awaiting private jet plane. Then, we will re-board a second private rental jet and land in the city of Decatur around nine o'clock or something like that in the morning. Then, we accomplish our mission goal," he back stepped and continued to stare at the back spine of Yorkie, spinning around and rushed through the open archway with a chuckle.

Cody stood upright from the chair at the conference table with a clap and a smile. "Let's go gold prospecting, Bama style!"

Fucner stood upright from the chair at the conference table and tilted a skull back, downing the rest of the beer, dropping down a chin with a loud burp and a smile. "Let's go prospecting for babes, Bama style!" He patted a full belly with a grin.

Islander stood upright from the chair at the same conference room with a smile in silence.

The three men exited the conference room with a sound of chuckles and smiles for a free evening of fun in Huntsville, Alabama.
Thursday August 5th

City of Bessemer (20 miles south of Birmingham)

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

with four miles per hour winds

08:08am

Bessemer Private Airport location

Lounge room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Islander moved out from the small airport lounge of dull yellow hue in the small country town of Bessemer with a smile and a whistle, wearing a business suit and a necktie that came from his father. The suit was wool dark brown jacket and a pair of matching trousers that was paired with a set of brown old fashioned white and brown winged tipped shoes, a short sleeved brown and white plaid cotton shirt, and a brown and white poker dotted bowtie. His father had worn the same brown wool suit at the funeral of his wife of twenty-three years of marriage, after she had succumbed and died of a rare form of cancer. His father had accepted her untimely death with the passion, the grace, and the love of Almighty God while knowing that it had been her time to return back into heaven when all things did eventually.

His father didn't want the somber and sad set of events at the funeral. It was a party of food and beverages at the house without the dead bio-shell that didn't contain her spirit. And it was a celebration that her spirit was sent back inside heaven, not down here on shitty planet Erath with the rest of the stupid assholes. Some of the relatives and friends felt freaked out with the party. Some of the relatives and friends enjoyed the party. However, Almighty God decided when the earthly angel came back to home to heaven, not a terrorist or a murderer or a car accident. The vile and evil person or thing was the instrument of the destruction of the delicate bio-shell external flesh and blood body, not the internal invisible spiritual soul. A human soul could not be destroyed or misplaced unless the soul allowed that to happen without challenge.

Islander had duplicated the same celebration party when his father had swiftly and shockingly died during a surprise terrorist explosion inside the FBI Laboratory in downtown Birmingham within the US State of Alabama. He was shocked at first, since he had survived the terrible bomb blast while living inside a hospital room for thirty-two days of medical treatment. Then he was angry for losing the only other living relative of his person. Then he felt grateful to survive and continue working to find more bad guys that wanted to cause malice and harm to the good people of the world.

The airfield pavement was dull gray asphalt with a row of tall pine trees on one side of the airport and an active county roadway to residential houses and small businesses within the town of Bessemer on the opposite side. Fields of green grass, grazing black and white tinted beef cows and brown and black quarter horses were located behind the rows of pine trees. The airport building was one-story of dull beige paint that offered plenty of hot coffee and cold beverages inside the air-conditioned lounge. The shotguns, hand guns, the fishing gear, and the suitcase of new clothes were already boarded underneath the belly of the private business jet plane.

Islander and the two other team mates had lounged and chatted with a set of dirty jokes around a small table inside the small coffee shop while appearing like a group of rich vacationing businessmen, waiting for the privately rented business jet plane to fly back to the city of Huntsville on the secret mission that had been assigned by the White House.

Islander moved beside Cody, who wore a navy sports jacket and a pair of ripped and torn blue jeans of a young billionaire, since Cody was still a kid at the age of eighteen years old. Fucner in a tan business suit followed behind with a worried brow without holding the nervous stomach. Of course, Islander had noticed the nervous habit on Fucner and said with a smile, staring at the steps of the private jet. "Who gets motion sickness? Good. If you vomit up on my new cowboy boots, Fucner, I'll beat your ass into tomorrow," he climbed up the steps with a chuckle and a smile.

Cody followed behind Island with a chuckle, moving inside and sat down near a window, looking down with a smile to read out loud the new information on the mobile telephone. "There's a shooting range around Swan Creek which is off the country road named Harris Road. The shooting range distance is up to one hundred yards with four different range distances from twenty-five years or fifty years or one hundred yards, which were all side by side with a set of dividing barriers. There is a specific area for rifle shooting at a set of larger stationary clay targets at one hundred yards. This shooting range is operated by TVA which is located at the intersection of west of Highway 31 and Harris Road in the small township of Tanner. Mark it down on your wrist watch at 34 degrees and 40 minutes, 51.74 minutes north, and 86 degrees, 59 minutes, 20.97 minutes west in Tanner..."

Islander shook the crossed leg with a smile and a nod to Cody. "This is our short sweet plan. Since I'm the current field boss while Skippy is riding on a different private business jet plane flying towards Guntersville. We, three fly and land near the fishing pier in our helicopter, acting like some rich city bastards and then fly away quickly from Swan Creek with the treasure. No one will suspect at thing," he chuckled with Cody. The light weight plane rolled ahead with a rough taxi over the smooth pavement and then roared in take-off from the ground and into the air as the face of Fucner turned into bright green.

Islander turned and smiled at Fucner. "I became a pilot for both a private jet and a helicopter for my shitty fun and your amusing entertainment, when I didn't wanna attend my college courses. We're going to a small airstrip between the cities of Athens and Decatur which is located on Highway 31. The airstrip is called Pryor Field. Pryor Field is located at latitude 34 degrees, 39 hours, 14.600 minutes, and longitude of 86 degrees, 56 hours, 43.300 minutes west, since Cody likes playing on his cell phone way too much. We'll greet and meet the aviation manager, who will be very polite and helpful, escorting us into the lounge with food and beverages."

Fucner swallowed the bitter bile coming up an esophagus with a sour frown. "Put away your cell phone, Cody! Or ya'll get seasick from reading and flying..."

Cody looked down with a smile and continued to type on the tiny keyboard of the mobile telephone. "Naw! I don't get scared like you, Fucner," he chuckled with Islander. Fucner reached down and held the guts with a sour frown. Cody read out loud on the mobile telephone. "Pryor Field became operational on September 1942. One runway covers two hundred acres of land, publicly owned by the city of Decatur and open to the public for use like my free library card," he looked up with a nod and a chuckle to see Islander and the green face of Fucner. Fucner swiftly stood upright from the padded chair and spun around, dashing ahead towards the closed bathroom door. Cody chuckled. "Pryor Field is site number 00251. The traffic advisory frequency is 123.075 Hz. The land elevation is 592 feet high. Airspace determination is no objection. What's that mean, Is?"

Islander smiled. "You can go and land, without calling your mama."

Cody continued to read out loud the new information on the mobile telephone with a smile. "During a calendar year, the aviation station runs air taxi operations of 150,000 flights for civilian and 12,000 for military. Wow. The lighting schedule is dawn to dusk or sunrise to sunset. There is no customs airport entry and no commercial landing fees either. The station provides transient storage for the jets."

Islander nodded. "We stow the jet and then take the copter to Swan Creek."

Cody continued to read out loud the new information on the mobile telephone. "Pryor field can accommodate seventy-one single engine aircraft; twelve multi-engine aircraft; two helicopters on site, and on one operational glider," he looked up with a smile and a nod to see Islander. "Glider? Can we use a glider and then glider down into the river water at Swan Creek? That's both more quiet and fun."

Islander turned to face the window to see the blue sky, "Naw!"

Cody looked down with a smile and read out loud the new information on the mobile telephone. "There are twenty-five feet paved shoulders with soft grassy inlays, in case the pilot misses the runway," he looked up a laugh to the green face of Fucner. "Did you hear that one, Fucner?" Fucner returned back from the bathroom and sat back down, leaning over and held a head between both legs with a soft moan. Cody and Islander chuckled with a smile. Cody looked down with a smile to read out loud the new information from the mobile telephone to annoy Fucner and kill all the wasted air time on the flight. "The ID call number for Pryor Fields is 18/36. The runway can hold a single wheel of 35,000 pounds; a glider dual wheel of 55,000 pounds, a dual tandem wheel of 95,000 pounds. The runway is 6,107 feet in length and 100 feet in width. The runway surface type is asphalt which is in good condition and the surface treatment is plastic grooved to soak up all the rain drops from heaven," he turned to face the window with a chuckle. "Is it raining or not?"

Islander unbuckled the safety belt and stood upright with a smile, reaching over and touched the fishing clothes in the seat next to him. "Stood upright and change outta of the business suits and into all the fishing gear! We are rich businessmen coming down from B'ham to fish and see the sights," he started removing the business suit and quickly changed into the fishing gear.

Cody stood upright and exchanged the clothes for the new fishing gear in silence, sitting back down, typing on the mobile telephone.

Fucner slowly stood upright and slowly removed each piece of clothing with a loud burp of a nervous stomach, slowly dressing in all the fishing gear, sitting back down, holding a skull between both legs again.

Islander felt the drop in air pressure and heard the release of the landing gear, staring out the window, seeing the landscape with a smile. "Our trip was fast. The physical elevation at touchdown is zoned at 592 feet. As we land, it decreases to 588 feet like riding on top of a smooth roller coaster," he leaned over and fist bumped with Cody as they both turned with a set of laughter and stared down at the brown hair roots of Fucner. Fucner continued to hold a skull between the legs and on top of his dick while moaning with air sickness.

Cody leaned over and pressed a nose into the small round window. "Looks like someone imprinted the letter B two times with a gray ink pen onto the green grass. The black asphalt has faded in the bright sunlight between dirt red clay with a parking lot on the right for about ten trucks and a field of cotton on the left. Where's the control tower? So we don't collide with another smaller plane."

Islander looked out the window with a smile also, "None. The clear green lighted signal means: land at the airport. When the light is white, it means: a no-go. The direction wind indicator is yes and lighted. Traffic pattern is left. So we're coming from the right end of the street corner. We're landing, boys. Fucner, go and vomit in the bathroom, not on the copter. Do you hear me, son!" He leaned over with a laugh and fist bumped with Cody.

09:12 am.

Pryor Field location

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine and four mph winds

The plane smoothly landed as best as it could for small business jet and then rolled onto the runaway, smoothly taxing near the entrance doors of the short and squat building and halted underneath a metal tarp out of bright sunlight. A male stood in front of the entrance doors with a smile and a nod to the pilot and co-pilot.

Islander stood upright from the chair and moved ahead, stopping, standing in front of the closed door, pressing the lever. The hatchway opened as a small set of steps dropped down without hitting the pavement. Islander led the men down the stairs. An airport crew appeared and stood down on the ground in front of the open bin, unloading all the fishing gear, since Cody, Islander, and Fucner wore the fishing clothing like a set of carefree vacationing billionaires.

The unknown short, older, and dark skinned male moved ahead and extended a hand with a smile to Islander. Islander stopped and stood in place with a smile, reaching out and shook the hand with a nod. The unknown male smiled to Cody and Fucner also, "Howdy do there! Nice to meet ya'll! I'm your aviation manager of the airport. You can call me, Harold. It's a great day in Decatur, Alabama. Thanks for staying here for a spell. Ya'll have picked a good time to be here with the TVA Scavenger Hunt and all. The airport desk attendant can arrange any else you need, boys. Ben, he will motion for the pilot to taxi your private business jet into the covered hanger and then check all the instruments on the panel for any malfunctions which is all for free, of course. We fuel by truck at the price of six dollars and fifteen cents. We have hot showers inside the pilot's lounge and a snooze room to catnap for a while. We got a lunch meal which will be served at eleven o'clock on the dot. We are having beef and pork barbeque for ya'll, today."

Fucner gagged and then covered a mouth with a cough, swiftly dashed ahead by the male and entered through a set of open entrance doors that led into the single story air-conditioned building, looking for the bathroom again. Cody and Islander chuckled. Islander cleared a throat with a smile to the aviation manager. "No thanks for the lunch meal! Just top off the jet, Harold! We'll return in about four hours, sir. We chartered a helicopter, too. Is she ready to roll, sir?"

Harold looked down with a smile to read out loud the paper on top of the clipboard with a nod. "Yes, I see the charter for the helicopter, sir. You and your friends can board at any time," he looked up with a smile and a nod to see Islander and Cody, spinning around to face and enter through the same entrance doors, leading through the building with a yell. "There is not any type of security lines or long treks through us like a big commercial airport. You fly in, land, and then fly right out in minutes, hours, or the next day. You are located three miles, northeast, from the city of Decatur or five miles, northwest, towards the city of Athens. You are eleven miles west of the small town of Capshaw and thirteen miles north of the military base called Redstone Point. You looked dress for some fishing. This is a good day with the celebration of the TVA birthday party."

Islander moved beside Cody in silence without Fucner trailing behind. Harold turned and pointed to each wall of the building that held an array of glass windows with a smile. "Pryor Field holds three aircraft parking hangers, one passenger terminal with one soda machine and a lounge for school teachers and pilots, and your airsick business friend," he laughed with Cody and Islander. "There is a snooze room for the exhausted pilot, a public telephone, two restrooms, and a set of bathing showers. This flight station is called the North Alabama Aviation or the call sign to the pilots as Airnav."

Cody continued to move with Islander and behind Harold, leaning over with a stern face and a whisper into the cheekbone of Islander. "I know that we had to fax our flight plan to here to this flight station. But our private business jet took off from metro city of Birmingham with our leader Skippy and then the same private business jet came back to the same flight station of Pryor Field. Then, the same private business jet repeated the same flight procedure to the same flight station of Pryor Field. Ain't someone going to be suspicious of our arrival for a second time?"

"Naw," Islander moved ahead with Cody and whispered back with a smile into the cheekbone of Cody. "That private business jet is a rental that flies from B'ham to here all the time for the right price. It is a common commuter business jet. We look normal, except for fucking Fucner, who continues to gag and cough up the blueberry muffin from this morning."

Harold stopped and spun around with a smile, standing in front of single external door with a half window that led onto the side of the building for pickup vehicles, pointing around the room with a nod. "And finally, there is a popcorn stand available with hot and buttered popcorn for free, an aviation treasure. Our pristine building has the Wi-Fi free communication and a counter of computer laptops. The pilot lounge has a four computer laptops for teleconferencing to anyone in the world. Make yourself at home, gentlemen! Is there anything else that you need, sir? Islander shook a skull in silence. Harold extended a hand with a smile to Islander. Islander shook the hand with a nod in silence. Harold smiled. "I'll call your limo, sir. It will arrive right here at this exit point. Enjoy your fishing expedition, gentlemen. Thank you for visiting Airnav!" He swung around to face the door and exited the lounge.

Cody spun around and moved ahead, entering the bathroom. The door closed.

Then, the door opened. Fucner returned back from the bathroom still panting in an array of heavy air molecules after exiting from the smooth airplane ride of the private business jet and scooted around the living room sofa. He sat down and bent over while breathing gulps of fresh air with a slight headache, feeling better.

Cody returned back from the bathroom, moving ahead and stopped, standing in front of the popcorn machine, reaching out and grabbed an empty bag from the side slot, filling up a sack of hot buttered popcorn, eating and chewed with a set of mouth spit and food particles with a nod. "This facility is new, roomy, and clean. Man, that bathroom's spotless clean. I'm impressed. Southern hospitality is alive and well, in Tanner, Alabama. This spot is a pleasant stop..."

Islander continued to stand and pointed through the viewing window with a chuckle and a smile, "Lookie there through the great big large glass window! The limo for us, billionaires has finally arrived on time. The two charted helicopters are on the other side of the airplane hangar and away from the fixed aircraft. Grab your boots or in Fucner's case, your guts. We are flying to our fishing hole, boys," he leaned over and fisted bumped with Cody and they moved ahead with a roar of laughter. Fucner slowly stood upright with a loud groan and held the stomach, slowly moving ahead towards the exit door.

09:33 am

City of Tanner within the US State of Alabama

State Docks Road fishing pier

(3 miles north of Pryor Field)

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine and four mph winds

The helicopter which was piloted by Islander reduced speed and hovered in the air, slowly descending and landed down over the soil and away from the walking pier, a small fleet of fishing boats, and one single two-story brick building on top of the flat grass and near the bluish-green murky water of the Tennessee River. Cody, Islander, and Fucner grabbed the fishing gear from each seat first and then slowly exited from the helicopter, moving ahead down towards the fresh water river.

Fucner led the group of fake businessmen as his stomach had quit flip-flopping and then returned normal during and after the helicopter ride, turning to scan the landscape with a loud moan. "Man! This place ain't got nothing for the eyeballs or for fun. No boat docks. No fishing piers. No boat ramps. No sandy white shoreline. No pretty scenery. No river bridges. No street culverts. No boat marinas. No barge tug boat terminals. No mooring cells..."

"You're right, Fucner." Cody turned and smiled at the pretty landscape of Mother Nature without the invasion of the city life and the city slickers. "The entire Tennessee River watershed is divided into seven sections and overseen by the TVA. Thus, the river water is colored blackish-green. The grass is colored green like God intended. And this ain't one of them, Fucner."

The pier manager sat down inside a rocking chair on the covered front porch of the two-story brick coated building, waving with a smile, standing upright and moved ahead with a hand. "Ya'll don't look like a set of local boys!"

Cody moved ahead and stepped onto the front porch first with a hand to the male, shaking and releasing the hand with a smile, slapping a chest. "I am one, sir. I'm from Ettaville, a local redneck. I'm bringing my city buddies to see the sights and sounds of our smooth country living. We will be fishing around Swan Creek, where it will be nice and quiet from the ruckus of the noisy out of town visitors, celebrating TVA's birthday party."

The manager turned with a sour frown and scanned the docking pier with a crowd of families, pointing at the water. "You are right about that, boy. All these folks come from all over Bama to have some fun and spoil the fishing. All the fish got scared off and went home for the day," he turned and smiled to Cody. "Welcome to the Tennessee River, boys! The weather is a beauty for some daylight fishing, too. The river water provides largemouth bass, smallmouth bass near metro city Decatur waters upstream northwest and then downstream northeast into the Elk River which is near the city of Athens and catfish fishing, too. The Bama fisherman record holder is a 111-pound catfish. The bluegill and crappie grow exceptionally fast here along the river banks. The largemouth bass grows from twelve to fifteen inches. Do you need some baiting, son?"

Cody shook the fishing hat with a grin. "Naw, sir," he lifted up and shook the metal box. "My tackle box gots crank baits, Carolina rigs, and spinner baits," nodding.

The manager thumbed back over to the building with a nod. "The bait store gots some live night crawlers and frogs, if you wanna 'em."

Islander slightly shook the set of expensive fishing pole and the tackle box with a smile. "We have plenty of baiting and tackle, sir. But we are interested in renting two small fishing boats for our fun today."

The manager smiled with a nod. "I can do that for ya'll. Come this way, boys! I got a set of twins that are gassed and ready for some real fishermen," he moved ahead towards the end of the walking pier. "Now, ya'll be really carefully during your fishing adventure. The river waters rise right up into the tree roots, where it's dark and quiet, since snakes like dark and quiet, too. But you should be safe, if you stay away from the drowned tree roots. To your east, there lies the Wheeler Lake. It is seventy-four miles of a long channel of water, maintaining an average depth of sixteen feet which goes all the way up to the Guntersville Dam..."

Fucner leaned over with a stern face into the cheekbone of Islander. "That's deep enough for a scuba diver or two." Islander nodded with a stern face in silence.

11:31 am

Swan Creek of blackish-green fresh water

Hot temperatures with cool wind breeze and parted clouds of sunshine

Cody had paid and rented two slow moving fishing boats for the day from the fishing store at the walking pier. Islander had loaded with Cody into one. Fucner had loaded and steered the second one. Both boats swiftly steered and used a hand-held geographical device to find the hidden location of Swan Creek.

Fucner slowed the speed and cut off the engine as the boat slowly drifted towards the red tinted muddy river bank, narrowing both eyelids inside a pair of sunglasses with a yell at the second boat that showed the back spines of both Cody and Islander. "Swan Creek ain't nothing but low lying maple trees, knee-high grass weeds, and chunks of wet red clay. No docking pier. No pretty naked girls. No beer stands. Do you have the precise correct geographical location, Cody?"

Islander cut the engine and turned to scan the landscape with a worried brow as the second boat slowly drifted beside Fucner at the same muddy river bank. "This ain't a seaside villa in pretty Florida. You saw the electronic map on SUSY-Q. She is never wrong. And it looked like Brone is not here with us, either. That is very, very wrong."

Cody stood upright inside the boat and stripped off his fishing clothing revealing a dark tinted body wet suit for diving down into the river water with a stern face. "Thick stump flats, numerous seaweed beds, steep muddy river bank, and small low water creek channels are here. You right as usual, Fucner. This is an off-reservoir activity site that occurs along a perennial river or stream within the Tennessee River watershed."

The boat hit and stuck into the muddy river bank as Fucner jolted back and forth at the pilot chair, turning with a worried brow to see the dark murky water. "Are there perinea fishies that bite here, too?"

The second boat hit and stuck into the same muddy river bank next to Fucner. Cody sat down in the side chair and donned a pair of scuba flippers, an enclosed scuba helmet for air and communication, and a pair of gloves for protection, flipping up the plastic face mask with a wink and a smile to Islander, who sat across from Cody and dressed in the scuba gear also. "There are poisonous snakes that bite here, too."

Fucner spun around with a worried brow and shook both hands and a skull at Cody. "Ah shit! Why am I here again?"

Islander stood upright from the chair and reached over with a sour frown, grabbing from the chair and shoved the upright loaded rifle into the chest of Fucner with a sneer. "You are not here. You are watchdog, Fucner. Go and waste some ammo as the prime lookout, looking out for a wandering fishing boat or two that wanna come and kill us here at Swan Creek." Fucner ignored the rifle with the scope with a smile.

Cody reached down, grabbing and handed a new weapon to Islander with a smile. "This is your new best friend, a bang gun."

Fucner reached over and snatched the new weapon the hand of Cody, aiming and shoot the cold barrel into the grass without a flying bullet or a loud sound. He frowned "It's defective, Cody."

"It works," Cody reached over and snatched the bang gun from the hands of Fucner with a sneer. Islander extended the rifle with the scope to Fucner with a stern face. Cody reached out and handed the bang gun with a stern face to Islander. "It goes bang, bang underneath the water to keep the snakes from biting into your wet suit and then killing you dead. So, I don't have to drag your sorry dead ass up to the air surface for the thirteen-thousand-dollar external ugly steel coffin," he chuckled with Islander.

"I wanna be cremated, after I pass into heaven," Fucner stared at the new bang gun with a laugh and then looked over and pointed down into the water." What are we looking for here at Swan Creek, Cody?"

Islander exhaled with a huff of annoyance at Fucner who was not performing the dangerous dive with the venous snakes, examining the components of the bang gun for his body protection. "A sliver piece of gold from one of the two copper scrolls that God wrote and Moses toted which would be worth trillions of dollars."

Cody exhaled with a nod. "When you go prospecting for gold, you look for slow moving water that will help wash away any sediment. Phase one is seek. Look for a gravel pit of accumulated stone pebbles that surround any large non-moving object like a sea chest or a fallen boat engine motor. Rednecks get drunk out here and then race and then crash the fishing boat like a dry road automobile. There will be lots of shit that is stuck down into the bottom red mud bottom of the Tennessee River. The sediment bed will probably cover the thing with tons of red mud and wet dirt. We might need a crane or a fork lift to haul the damaged box of gold out of the rotten wooden chest from the depths of the sediment bedding, since it has been there, since the year 1931. Search every large object! The river is man-made, not God-made. The entire bottom is filled with debris from whacked off tree, including tree branches, wet leaves, big stumps, small rocks, and large boulders. The large boulders are grayish colored limestone boulders, when the government engineers blasted through the mountain range to run the river water through the existing low bottom Cherokee River, some eighty years ago."

Fucner looked over the lip of the boat into the murky water with a worried brow, holding the rifle with the scope. "Jeezus, this is going to take years to do. I vote that we attach a water-proof scope on SUSY-Q and let her go down and look underneath all the tree roots with the unfriendly and non-social venom snakes."

Cody exhaled. "Phase two is dig. We have to dug through the rocks, gravel, clay, and sediment from the location and then move it away from the box, keeping the sediment cloudless and below eyeball-visibility of a negative hundred. Phase three is removal. We have to remove all the big rocks that are gathered around the box of gold. Or we might have to lift the box with its new friends inside. Copper like gold forms an aggregate in quartz rocks and other earth minerals. So I bet that the box is covered in agate rocks and maybe fool's gold from the river."

Islander peeked over the lip of the boat down into the river with a worried brow, holding the bang weapon. "The water is very, very black and cloudy."

Cody raised a gloved finger with a nod. "First fucking rule, water snakes are ovoviviparous and should not be touched or captured. The water moccasin snake is a venomous species, belonging to the family Viperidae. The snake is a pit viper which is related to the rattlesnake and the copperhead."

Islander moaned with a nod. "Kissing cousins, I love it."

Cody said. "The average long is thirty inches. If you can't do math, then divide it by twelve inches. That is about two feet and half feet long, half of me. The baddie news, a water moccasin has been seen as long as six feet. That is almost all of me," laughing.

"Shit! Why did I volunteer?" Fucner continued to scan the water, the river banks, and finally Cody.

Cody nodded. "The water moccasin has dark colors of brown, black, and olive green to hide really well while looking...looks like the water in this dank muck of dark brown piss shit called a river. The belly is white. The head is flattened. And the snake's pupils are vertical patterned."

Islander chuckled with nervousness. "Not to be rude here, Cody! But, I don't wanna verify your colorful description and I possess a weapon, so just get to the good stuff and hurry, before I quit and go back home to B'ham."

Cody smiled. "The water moccasin likes swamps, rivers, irrigation ditches, rice fields, canals, and streams which we are disturbing in about two minutes or less."

Fucner tossed both hands into the air with a confused brow. "Wait! This is a recreational area with boats, Cody. If I was a snake, I wouldn't live here," chuckling.

Islander chuckled. "You are a different type of slimy sleazy swimming serpent, Fucner."

"The venom has the ability to destroy your red blood cells, making it a hemotoxin in your body. A bite injects the venom into a person's system. Then, you experience rapid swelling which leads to necrosis of the surrounding tissues..."

Fucner frowned. "Necrosis is?"

Cody nodded. "The bite is lethal. So, I say goodbye to you, now. Because, buddy, you'll die before some help arrives from the medical team with a band of super smart physicians."

Islander nodded with a grin. "Today is a good day to die."

Fucner looked up with a sour frown to scan the blue sky. "Bullshit. Why I did volunteer for this crap?"

Islander laughed. "The money, you got paid to get snake bit."

Cody chuckled. "My last tip of the day, the venom of a water moccasin is more potent than a copperhead but not as strong as a rattler. Happy boys and girls! Water moccasins hunt their food at night using a heat-sensing pit on a face to locate and zoom onto their daily meal. Your body has heat-seeking devises to zoom onto the snake, since we will be waking them up and looking like a big ass frog which is their favorite food."

"I require verification, Cody," Fucner laughed.

Cody said. "The snake will attack first and then bites down, if you try to resist."

Fucner frowned. "That makes no fucking ass sense, Cody. If I jerk my hand away from its mouth, it will bite me and then poison me with its venom."

Cody said. "If you try to resist, it will bite you, release you, and track you down for its meal, and then consume your ass. Are you happy, now, Fucner?"

Fucner frowned, "Naw."

Cody said. "A water moccasin swims with its head fully above the surface and one third of its body below, so watch your hair roots, except the smaller water snakes love the water. So, they swim with their bodies submerged."

Islander looked over with a worried brow to see muddy river bank, the dark water, the blue sky and finally to see Fucner. "Brother Jesus and Fucner, please pray for me, bro!"

Cody reached over and shoved a new object to Islander. "This is a diver watch, slightly modified with a tea tiny metal detector that looks for a metal object. Gold is easy to distinguish from rotten wood and fish guts. Extend your arm. Let the tiny beam scan into down the mud. The depth is only one foot but strong enough to pick up a tiny blink. It blinks, not beeps. We don't wanna attract any vile critters with the beeping sound. We are attracting them enough with our swimming bodies and try to glide more than swim. Got it, Is?"

Islander reached over and shoved with a stern face on the chest of Fucner. "Get going, Fucner! Watch for any patrolling boats or a protruding shot gun barrel at us while we dive underneath the water and then fuckingly fire back, before the bullet kills us. Got it, Fucner?" He turned and scanned the landscape. "Brone is here somewhere, too."

Fucner leaned down and cranked the engine backing the boat from the river bank, waving a hand with a smile, "Happy hunting, boys! I got my diver watch, too. I will blink it three times, if I see any trouble wandering towards your fishing vessel, after I shoot all the bastards for my shitty fun," he twisted the wheel and steered away from the other boat as his team members laughed with him.

Inside the second boat, Cody spun around and sat down on the edge of the boat lip, dropping down, falling backwards down into the fresh water and then he emerged above the water, swimming towards the lip of the boat and reached up, accepting the two bang guns. Islander reached over the lip of the boat and handed the two weapons to Cody, spinning around and sat back down on top of the lip, flipping a body off the boat backwards and down into the water without the bang gun. He emerged from the waves with a stern face inside the scuba helmet.

Cody said into the active helmet microphone, "Check."

Islander reached out and grabbed the second bang gun for body protection and said into the active helmet microphone, "Copy."

They both leaned over and dived down into the blackish green colored river water to explore the bottom of the Tennessee River at Swan Creek

Shooting range location

(one mile north of Swan Creek)

Fucner swiftly steered the small fishing boat towards the designated lookout point and drove into the shallow river red muddy bank along with the other boaters with a chuckle of fun. He jumped out from the boat with a belt of ammunition across the chest, a small travel bag of items, and the loaded rifle with a scope, landing in the shallow water, moving ahead onto the dry land of red clay and patches of green grass, toting the rifle across a shoulder like a true redneck with a chuckle.

He strolled up to a horizontal wooden stand that was draped in numerous big and small American flags and an array of red, white, and blue paper streamers and stopped, standing in front of the clerk, paying with a wad of cash money for three hours of shooting fun. He back stepped and spun around, moving ahead to the last rental gun cuddy that provided a clear view of the calm waters of the Tennessee River to spy on the spies and his team mates.

Gun cubby setting

Fucner entered the gun cubby and stopped, standing in front of a long wooden counter, placing the load rifle and the travel bag on top of the plain wooden counter with a smile, wearing the ammunition belt of shotgun bullets for fun and narrowed both eyelids at the range of shooting targets in the far distance of two hundred, two hundred twenty-five, and etc. He swung around to face the southeast direction with a pair of naked eyeballs, seeing miles of calm flat river water. Then, he swung around to face the southwest with a pair of naked eyeball, seeing the patch of low lying green tinted trees over near the water, where the second fishing boat floated alone and silent. Fucner looked down and unzipped the small travel bag with a smile, reaching down inside the darkness lifting up and wore a pair of binoculars, seeing an empty boat on top of the placid waters. So, Cody and Islander were still diving down and swimming with the venomous snakes, not him. He dropped down the pair of binoculars from the eyeballs onto the wooden counter next to the shotgun and turned to see first shooting target at two hundred feet, hearing the loud discharge of bullets coming from the other shooters inside another gun cubby. He lifted up and aimed the rifle at the first target, firing on shell from the shotgun.

The shooting range didn't have a rule about walking around with a loaded weapon at the targets, the trees, the birds, or the other rednecks.

He dropped the gun with a grin of the fun assignment and looked down to see the diver wrist watch. Clear.

Underneath or above the river water, Islander would touch and blink a signal on the shared computer of each diver watch, if there was trouble or the finally collection of the copper sliver.

Fucner swung around to face the water and used the scope of the rifle to survey the river water for any additional boats. Clear! He looked down to see the diver's wrist watch. Clear! He turned to face a new target, lifting up the rifle at the second target with a chuckle, looking down to see the diver watch. Clear. He turned to face the water and leaned down, looking through the scope to the placid water and the single boat. Clear! He turned to face the second target and aimed, firing at the target, swinging to face the water again with a smile and a chuckle. "Rinse and repeat!"

11:35 am

City of Guntersville

Hot temperatures with parted clouds of sunshine and four mph winds

Guntersville Dam location

Control room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Skippy moved behind the short male. The male possessed a head of grayish-brown cropped hair, a full facial beard, a pair of gray trousers, a blue shirt, and a pair of orange and red cowboy boots. The Guntersville dam control manager entered into the control room, where three of the four walls were covered in an array of vertical and horizontal colored buttons, protruded levers, and fancy steel covered gadgets, consisting of switches, buttons, levels, and three computer monitor screens with a set of wiggling colorful horizontal bars and vertical numeric values. The manager stopped and spun around, standing in the middle of the floor, extending both arms to each wall with a smile and a nod to see Skippy. Skippy stopped and stood in front of the male with a smile. The manger nodded with a grin. "TVA is owned by the US Federal Government which provides electricity power to nine million folks, in seven US States, with the primary purpose of water level flow control. The water level navigates the water for both recreational and fishing boaters and land management of the shoreline for residential, local, and state government economic development. The city of Decatur is the nuclear power plant for this region.

"Guntersville Dam is monitored twenty-four hours and seven days per week with staff around the clock. The TVA operates the Tennessee River and reservoir system by a measurement of the inflow of the combined rain fall and runoff, managing the flow of water, throughout the river system. On the wall here it displays the specific numeric value. These numbers keep the riverbed below the dam from drying out. A system computer, based on the water flow ensures the river downstream needs. The water flow enhances the boating levels, protects the aquatic foul, the year around navigation of a river along with feeding the water which is used at the Huntsville Nuclear Power Plant.

"The TVA drawdown of reservoirs is used to meet the constant downstream flow of the river. Guntersville Dam is a constant 594 feet. We can't and won't change that. The TVA system wide flow is measured and checked at Chattanooga, because it shows the best indication of the flow for the upper half of the Tennessee River system. There are ten reservoirs that drown the red clay, including Blue Ridge, Chatuge, Cherokee, Douglass, Fontana, Noteely, Hiwassee, Norris, South Holston, and Watauga. TVA will monitor and release enough water to provide a weekly average minimum flow, all the way towards the mountain town of Chattanooga within the US State of Tennessee. This is the dry season.

"The TVA planned to release additional water from the ten reservoirs, before the start of the festival. The water would have been released from the reservoir, since we had experienced some significant T-storm activity for the past two weeks. If the volume of water stored in the reservoir is below the minimum 25,000 cubic feet per second, then we release the water. If the volume of the water shed is above 29,000 feet, then we don't release the water. That's easy.

"The Guntersville Dam shows 23,000 cubic feet per second. That's a dam shame, too!" He chuckled. "I could press this green button. Boom! The flood gates open and spill water. The spillage footage for the Fontana Dam is one hour and seven minutes. For the Norris Dam, it's two hours and twenty-three minutes. In two hours, the spillage footage will cover 293,000 acres of land and 11,000 miles of shoreline. Are you impressed, young man?" Skippy nodded with a grin.

The manager turned and pointed the wall. "In the wintertime, when we receive the most rainfall, TVA lowers the flood storage reservoirs to hold the runoff produced by winter storms. When a storm hits, TVA holds the water back by reducing releases from the dams, where it rains allowing the water to naturally downstream along the river banks. When the rain stops and the danger of flooding is over, TVA lets the water out, while getting prepared for the next T-storm. In the summertime, when flooding is not a risk factor, TVA keeps the lakes levels high to support boating and recreational boating like for the current festival of the eighty birthday. The swollen reservoirs are used and released during the hot dry months by generating electricity to power the cool feeling air conditioners and supply water navigation from the US State of Kentucky over towards the eastern end of the US State of Tennessee.

"The reservoirs are lowered to winter flood level on January first, each year. If during the flood season the water shed drops below the minimum system flow requirement, then the TVA will set back and monitor the upstream water and release the storage reservoirs. As soon as, the downstream floodwaters begin to recede, the reservoirs are lowered at a controlled rate. Through the turbines, it is sometimes necessary to let the additional water flow through sluiceways or over spillways to speed up the drawdown and regain the flood water shed level needed for future rains storms. Today, the reservoirs are full due to the prolonged summertime T-storms for the last three months. We're busting at the seams as they say.

"But, we can't release the water and increase the level now with so many boaters, and swimmers, and water crafts that sailed over the Tennessee River for the TVA Scavenger Hunt. If we could, then the Kentucky reservoir releases first and then the Fontana Dam and then the Norris Damn, and then the Guntersville Dam, and then Wheeler Dam, and then all the way down to finally the Chickamauga Dam. There're been lots of rain for the past three months.

"But, the TVA says hold back the water, until the birthday party is done on Saturday, at midnight. The Tennessee River watershed is the rainiest in the US, with average of 50 inches per year, compliments of the Gulf of Mexico. The Gulf is a major source of moisture and subject to tornadoes and hurricanes from Florida, moving across the southeast portion of the panhandle. The months of December through May are the major flood season in the Tennessee Valley. The winter storms provide the most rainfall, being more numerous, lasting longer, and covering the larger land masses.

"Right now, with the rain runoff from the mountains of the French Broad and Hiwassee, the Tennessee River watersheds exceed eighty inches. The Holston River is at seventy inches. The average annual runoff, the amount of water that ends up in the river system, after it rains is about twenty-three inches or forty-four percent of the rainfall. The runoff, this winter, has been the heaviest for the past two years, because the vegetation is dormant and the ground is saturated with rain. As a result, if it rains again, there will be flooding at all fourteen tributary reservoirs, so right after the birthday party the watershed will be released feeding and flooding some of the low regions.

"Yeah! On Saturday, at midnight, the staff will issue a daily schedule of water releases. Then I will hit the button for each TVA dam, monitoring the rate and total quantity of water to be released to achieve the flood storage level, without spillages. The water schedules are developed, using advanced computer models more than 300 rainfall and stream-flow gauges and the newest high technological radar, taking into account the total amount of water stored in each reservoir and the time it takes to move water from the tributary reservoir to the main-river reservoir.

"A boat barge grounding is bad news, too. A barge grounding creates a series of massive surge waves some as high as fifty feet along the shorelines or into the boat docks plus some drowning water skiers, swimmers, and overturned larger yachts. Think it! The swimming pool level gots hit with a category five hurricane waters with massive levels of rain, that doesn't end for two hours. The recreation boats downstream will be wrecked, but more importantly, the cooling water for the nuclear power plants will back up like a toilet, when your turds are too big to go through the drainage hole.

"The nuclear power plant will activate its emergency protocols, but millions of people will lose power for the rest of the week or more. When the fourteen tributaries flood, the backwaters quickly pour fresh river water over the smaller creek banks, some of the smaller creeks that come quickly to mind are Limestone Creek in Athens and Swan Creek near Tanner. These creek floodwaters threaten houses on the property and causes road closures for cars. The low lying areas of Limestone County are particularly susceptible for flooding. But, we watch out for that really closely, too."

He pointed to the other side wall. "This is a map of the seven states in a background color of pale gray with a dark blue snaky line of the river. The dams are highlighted as neon green boxes, showing the flood minimum level in numbers. Wheeler Dam is 555.30. Guntersville Dam is 594.0. Chattanooga Dam is 414.3. The challenge here is always the uncertainty about the timing or volume of rain and runoff, that we get each month or tomorrow or the future tomorrows. In the mountain region, where snowmelt is the primary source of runoff, a precise measurement can be made with the depth and density of the snow then the reservoir water manager can prepare an estimated runoff, based on the spring thaw.

"Here, in Guntersville, the flood damage is reduced short-term based on the current weather patterns as it reactions to the T-storm rainfall, as it occurs. The object is to keep the reservoir at the present flood storage level of 594 feet to feed the main-river and to meet the downstream flow requirement, keeping the river bed from drying out. The number level 594 is the operating flow to keep the elevation for any anticipation rainfall, kinda like, keeping that extra one hundred dollars inside your checking, so you don't overdraw your bank account." He chuckled.

"The Kentucky Dam is twenty-two miles upstream from Tennessee River which joins the Ohio River at Paducah in Kentucky. The Kentucky reservoir is the largest capacity in the TVA system with four million acres-per-feet. That's enough to cover four million acres of land with one foot of water. It acts as a man-made levee by itself while protecting ten million acres of land in the US States of Kentucky, Missouri, Illinois, Arkansas, Alabama, Tennessee, and Louisiana. When the upper Mississippi River floods, the water is released from the Kentucky reservoir, then is discharged into the Tennessee River. The flood crest will advance into the Ohio and Mississippi River which is stored as water volume in Kentucky Dam. The dam holds back the water, during the flood season, the purpose of a dam." He laughed with Skippy.

The manager nodded. "After the flood crest has passed down the Mississippi River, the stored floodwaters are released as downstream water, which in turn, feeds the reservoirs that regulates the river and streams. There lots of streams and creeks used to feed the native wildlife and agricultural farm livestock. There's Bear creek, Cedar creek..."

"You have a good memory, sir," Skippy turned with a smile and scanned some the electronic and metal monitors on the side wall and returned back to see the manager.

The manager smiled with a nod. "You have to have great memory recall here to notice any type of flood control which could have occurred years or decades or a century ago. I remembered reading from this old set of dam control log books. The first recorded water flooding over the river banks was told at 14.8 feet in the year 1867. In the year 2003, the river flooded at 10.29 feet. It flooded at 9.07 feet in the year 1973 and flooded at 9.34 feet in the year 2004. The lowest water level recorded was in the year 1962 at negative ten feet. The flood categories consist of a major flood at 14 feet; a moderate flood at 12 feet, and flood stage is 10 feet. We are a little less than flood stage at 593.5 feet, since I had to..." he turned and frowned at the stranger inside the archway. "Who are you, miss?"

The tall female moved inside with a head of waistline brown tinted hair in a gray business suit with a gray bandanna over a mouth, a gray colored scarf over the throat, a pair of gray colored gloves on each hand, and a pair of long brown bangs over both eyelashes. She stopped a few feet from the open archway and stood in the middle of the room, turning to scan each wall of shiny and dull colored instruments. "I'm here to drown the fishies," she returned to see the manager with a chuckle behind the gray bandanna.

"Drown the fishies!" The dam manager frowned at the strange women. "Hey! You can't..."

She shifted the cloth bag over into the other gloved hand and side stepped, stopping and stood next to the side wall with a protruded flat counter that held different sizes and colors of instruments. She reached out and held a glove over a red colored button with a smirk inside the bandanna. "What will happen, if I touch this button?"

The dam manager turned with a stern face and stared at the button, where her glove hovered on top. He pointed at the red button with a firm tone. "The city of Decatur will flood, damaging the shoreline property, killing swimmers, and wrecking boaters. The last time the city of Decatur flooded was in the month of March in the year 1867. The water crested at fifty-eight feet, washing out the county roads, completely inundating some of the smaller towns."

The female smiled at the dam control manager inside the gray bandanna. "I do declare. There are no protective concrete levees."

The dam manager frowned at the unknown female. "Some of the rural country sides are composed only of farm villages. They depend upon the rain water and spillage to irrigate the land..."

"Let us give the farm crops more water, should we?" She nodded at him.

The manager shook both hands with worry of fear. "Don't touch that dial!"

The female smirked inside her bandanna, "How quaint?" Then, she reached down into the shoulder bag and touched, whipping out a hand gun and lifted it into the air, firing into the chest of the dam manager. He tumbled backward and hit the wall console, slowly dropping down, falling over the floor in blood and death, and exhaling a last breath.

She smiled inside the bandanna at the dead man. "That is not a very good set of profound last set of words, sir," she swung the smoking gun at Skippy and slapped down on the button.

Skippy laughed. "You're in the wrong place, sweetheart. This ain't the wild, wild west, darling, with your matching face bandanna and business suit, making you look like a funny cowgirl. This is the southern part of Alabama, where southern belles and beaus rule and reside."

The female smiled inside the bandanna at Skippy. "I'm in the correct spot, dear," laughing.

Skippy reached backward and touched, snatching the switchblade from rear pocket, leaning over and stabbed into the rib cage of the unknown female, quickly withdrawing it and then lifted a hand and stabbed the bloody blade it into her heart. She folded down with a grunt of pain and dropped down, falling onto the floor, bleeding over the clean tiles in shock and pain.

The overhead alarm sounded with an array of blinking lights on the wall of the instruments.

"O gawd," Skippy dropped open a mouth and stared at the red button and the television screens on the wall monitor.

The speaker box blasted the verbal warning inside the control room. "Alert: flooding waters, in the tributary of Marshall County, at Battle Creek, estimated time of one hour and twenty-three minutes."

Skippy bounced up and down with panic and pointed at the blinking lights with a loud shout out. "Hey! In here! Hey! Somebody come in and shut down the flood gears right now in here!" A second dam manager dashed into the room and stopped, standing and looked down at the shoes of the death female. Skippy pointed with a worried brow at each television monitor with a set of colorful wiggling lines and blinking red lights. "The dead female pressed that red button to flood the river. Stop the flooding of the Tennessee River, right now! People will drown and then die."

The second dam manager stared down at the bleeding female then the first manager, and finally at the television monitor with the wiggling lines, shaking a skull with a worried brow. "Don't think I can, mister. It's easier to spill the water, then to clean it up. Cleaning up the water, you leave behind pockets of water. I can start the process. But the flooding will not go away for days and nights. And anyways, the flood gates are made of concrete, not your mama's horse pasture fencing, sonny," he looked down with a gasp at the wiggling cloth bag in the hand of the dead female. "Why does that bag move with motion?" He dropped open a mouth. "Shit! Cottonmouth poisonous snakes are coming outta of that bag," he back stepped with a gasp from the bag.

The speaker box blasted the verbal warning inside the control room. "Alert: flooding waters, in the tributary of Marshall County, at Bengis Creek, estimated time of one hour and sixteen minutes."

Skippy reached over and touched, grabbing his pistol from the holster, aiming and fired at the first adult hissing snake that slithered out of the cloth bag with a forked tongue feeling the warm body. "I got them," he back stepped and climbed onto a tall stool inside the control room with a loud shout. "Get on the stool and find a switch to shut off the flooding, sir!" All eardrums heard a set of gun shots echo inside the far hallway.

The speaker box blasted the verbal warning inside the control room. "Alert: flooding waters, in the tributary of Marshall County, at Big Coon Creek, estimated time of one hour and two minutes."

The new female appeared and stood inside the archway with a smile, holding a hand gun, thumbing back over a collar bone. "I got another one who is dead and unconscious downstairs on the stairwell. Shit fire! They're snakes in here."

The speaker box blasted the verbal warning inside the control room. "Alert: flooding waters in the tributary of Marshall County, at Big Fiery Gizzard Creek, estimated time of fifty-four minutes and ten seconds."

Skippy yelled at new female, who appeared and stood inside archway. "Get us some shovels! There're a shitload of baby snakes, too," he jumped down and stomped on top of the first baby hissing snake with both boot heels and a loud growl.

Thirty minutes later

City of Tanner

(one-mile northwest from shooting range)

Gun shooting range location

Hot temperatures with clear sky of bright sunshine

The mobile telephone beeped with a new text message inside his back pocket as Fucner whipped it out and looked down with a confused brow to see the tiny screen of the mobile telephone, staring at the red colored type blinking words. Alert: flooding waters, in the tributary of Limestone County, at Swan Creek, estimated time of twenty-three minutes and four seconds.

"Shit," he looked up with a puzzled brow to see the smooth blue sky, the rough green waves of the river and in the far distance of wall of water. He swung back to see the tiny boat which was downriver of the approaching wall of river water. He lifted and looked through the scope of the rifle to see an empty fishing boat. "Shit," he shouldered both the rifle and the binoculars, racing ahead towards the fishing boat to warn Cody and Islander of the impeding flood which could drown and kill his new friends.

Underneath the water

Swan Creek location

Cold temperatures and murky environment

Cody swam ahead through the waters and swung the flashlight side to side when a kneecap banged into an exposed tree stump, tearing the rubber suit which was not important. His knee did not need to breathe air, only his pair of lungs which were protected by the diving suit.

Islander slowly drifted ahead through the muck of the mud and dark colored water, saying into the active helmet microphone. "Shit! It's dark down here. You're right, Cody. I see negative hundred percent visibility within both eyeballs."

Cody slowly worked both flippers and swam down towards the bottom mud then drifts his sideways body. He shines the small flashlight on each solid shadow. He says via the helmet microphone. "If I were a gold nugget, I would bury myself down into the mud, away from the fishes and the engine rotors," he swam by the large tree trunk. "Big tree trunk on left. Watch for snakes."

"Copy," Islander swam ahead through the muck of the mud and dark colored water, saying into the active helmet microphone. "I don't see any solid object right here. My wrist watch is not blinking either."

Cody drifted down to the bottom mud, flinging the flashlight side to side and as his arm was extended while looking for an object of shiny gold.

Islander swam ahead and hit the wiggling snake with the shot from the bang gun as more of its unfriendly buddies panicked with the bright flash and then escaped out from thick tree stump. The snakes surrounded the body of Islander. He jerked in slow motion both legs and the pair of flippers into a chest, watching the family of moms, dads, and babies scatter around the murky water, praying that he did not get bit. He would not feel the bite with a numb body from the cold water, until he was back on top of the surface. Then he would die, because the venom would attack the heart valve first, before he pulled off the scuba helmet.

All the snakes wiggled away from Islander to find a new interest.

Islander unfolded both legs and arms, stretching out a body, swimming towards a swirling set of water near another tree stump with a whisper for his eardrums only. "Sorry, guys! But God gave me domain here first. Enjoy your new home!" Cody had heard the fire of the gun bang with a hiss. "Snake dead," Islander swam ahead towards the swirling waters and said into the active the helmet microphone.

Cody continued to swim ahead and shined the flashlight, working both flippers with speed, traveling down into a valley of upright tree trunks. The river was man-made, consisting of numerous upright chopped down big trees that left upright and exposed big stumps that live and rot underneath the rolling quiet waves. He shined the light between the tree trunk side to side looking a snake while extending the diver wrist side to side, looking for a metal object and found nothing. He continued to swim towards the solid river bank when the diver watch blinked a faint blue dot, slowly swinging the diver watch side to side for more blinks, swimming towards the solid wall of mud and upright shadow of tree roots, watching for a snake.

The diver watch blinked a brighter blue dot. Cody slowed and then halted, standing upright within the smooth flow of fresh water, shifting the diver watch up and down at the wall of mud.

The wrist watch blinked a neon blue dot again. Cody continued to hold the upright position and reached out, shoving a glove into the mud, twisting a hand around the buried tree roots and the wall of stationary hard rock which were embedded into the muddy wall. The loose mud mixed with the water making the wall and water as one. Cody did not need his eyesight but his muscle strength. He wiggled a glove deeper down into the loosen mud, feeling a solid matter of semi-round rocks. Then, a hand hit something more flat shaped than rounded. Cody jerked out the rock from the muddy hole. The loose sediment swept back and forth, forming more cloudiness of mud and sand in the water.

He narrowed both eyelids inside the diver mask at a solid object in a glove within the view of cloudy water of floating mud with a smile. "Is, I found something. My diver watch is blinking like crazy. Please, go and get the portal fan for me!"

"Shore," Islander said into the active helmet microphone and swung around, swimming away from Cody and back towards the anchored fishing boat in silence.

Cody slowly pulled the object towards the chest and felt a bump on his back spine, spinning around in the water with a gasp at the tip of a fishing spear which was aimed at his heart. The upright unknown diver through the face mask waved a free hand for the object while reaching out and hugged the glove hand of Cody which was covered in solid mud. The male lifted up and touched the plastic face plate of Cody with the tip of the spear. Cody shook the mud from the object inside the gloved hand and slowly swung an arm towards the upright and unknown diver while seeing the snake.

The snake wiggled ahead and then wrapped its body around the extended glove, the arm, and the shiny object on Cody. The diver gasped in shock through the face mask and immediately swam backward from the open fangs of the cottonmouth snake.

Cody dropped the bang gun, since the shot was close enough to damage his arm. He reached out and slapped the snake silly with a free gloved hand. The snake became annoyed at Cody and then became more interested in the backwards swimming unknown diver, unwrapping form the arm of Cody and then charged the unknown diver. Cody cuddled the object into a chest which was composed of rotten slimy wood and a hard substance that was wrapped around the object, swiftly swimming ahead towards the deep valley of tree trunks.

Cody opened the lips to speak when his helmet rammed into one of the tree trunks. He ricocheted backward and then drifted sideways in the water as the mouth piece rattled out from the slot and then dropped further down inside the helmet. Cody exhaled with a puff of worry and heard a loud bang from an underwater pistol. He leaned down and kicked the flippers, swimming ahead towards the bottom of the fishing boat, seeing the body of Islander ahead of him.

Islander heard the underwater explosion too and raced ahead, flipping the pair of flippers through the river water for safety, swimming towards the bottom of the fishing boat.

Cody saw the bottom of a new rowboat that was anchored beside the fishing boat which meant that the team had a set of unwelcomed visitors.

Islander turned upward to swim and broke up into the air surface, climbing up and over into the boat, disappearing out of the river water.

Cody flipped the pair of flippers harder and faster towards the fishing boat and then turned upward, gliding a body up to the air surface. His mask emerged up from the water while breathing heavy for air and unlatched the helmet with a warning yell, lifting the arm with the object. "I got it! Fucner, take Is to the copter, right now. Something else is down there with me, not snakes, either. Another male with a spear gun..."

The unknown diver swam had killed the snake and then swiftly swam ahead towards Cody with a growl. Then the diver hit and wrapped both arms around the rotating flippers of Cody.

Cody floated above the air surface and reared back an arm, flinging the piece of rotten wood into the second fishing boat with Fucner. Islander jumped out from the small rowboat and landed hard onto the wooden floor of the fishing boat with Fucner. Fucner stood at the wheel and twisted the motor blades, flying away from the Cody, slanging sprays of water into the air and sailed towards the opposite side of the land.

In the water, Cody reached down and removed each flipper as the diver and both flippers descended down and fell away from Cody. He lifted and touched, climbing over the short lip of the new row boat. The unknown diver swam ahead and reached up, grabbing the air tank on the bac spine of Cody as Cody dropped back down into the water and spun around to see the diver, holding a gulp of air, slamming a gloved hand into the face mask of the unknown diver and shifted the mask on the diver enough for immediate water penetration. The river was fresh water but murky with bits of tree dust, fish guts, and red clay. The male released Cody and grabbed the mask for survival.

Cody spun around and swam up to the air surface, exhaling out the used air, breathing heavy gulps of fresh air and reached up, grabbing the edge of the lip of the boat. He climbed up and over the lip landing on the floor of the row boat with a gasp. He stood upright and stumbled on both kneecaps towards the pair of manual oars, "Shit!" He spun around and sat down, reaching out and grabbed each the paddle, leaning down, stroking the row boat towards the river bank and away from the unknown diver. The unknown diver emerged up from the water surface with a sneer and swiftly swam ahead towards the end of the row boat with Cody.

Cody was cold and tired from swimming down on the bottom of the mud, escaping from both the snakes and the unknown diver, fighting underneath the water and finally manually rowing the boat very slowly towards the river bank. The diver easily caught up with the row boat.

Cody stood upright and pulled out one of the oars, swinging the paddle down on top of the skull of the unknown diver. The diver dunked down into the water and swam ahead underneath the bottom of the row boat, emerging on the other side and reached up, touching the lip, trying to climb on-board the small boat.

Cody leaned down and paddled with the one and brute strength a little further through a river of rough waves as the unknown diver continued to climb over the lip and stopped in front of the tiny row boat while scooting away from the wavering paddle length. Cody stood upright with a wobble side to side and moved ahead towards the male in front of the boat, swinging the paddle side to side and then folded down at the fit waistline trying to balance his tallness inside the small boat without falling overboard.

The male ducked down and then rose up from the water, grabbing and climbed up and over the pointy lip of the boat, falling over and down onto the wet floor and slowly crawled towards Cody with a growl inside the busted face mask

Cody stood upright with a wobble and swung the single paddle with a wobble, missing the folded diver on the floor. He wobbled to the side and balanced his tallness in the air without falling out of the boat.

The male slowly crawled towards Cody and reached within arm span of Cody, slowly standing upright with wobble. Cody stood upright with a wobble and swung the paddle sideways again at the diver. The diver reached out and grabbed the end the paddle.

They jerked the paddle side to side with a set of loud grunts at each other, holding the single paddle in place, sliding side to side on the wet flooring of the boat as the river water rose with a roaring sound that echoed throughout the air waves.

They stopped fighting and held onto the single paddle. Cody spun a face with a gasp to see a wall of blackish green water that rolled underneath a flying helicopter. Both objects were coming directly towards the small boat. The wave of water hit first, splashing gallons of water over the lip of the boat while drowning both the ankles of each person in place. The male reached over with a laugh and slapped the paddle from the hands of Cody with a smirk.

Then the second wave of water hit and knocked both men down onto an ass inside the floor of the row boat. Cody fell backward and hit the rear seat. The male fell backward onto the front of the boat as a third wall of water completed covered both bodies. The row boat viciously tilted side to side without tipping over. Then, the helicopter hovered directly over the row boat.

Cody waved both arms in the air to signal Islander.

The helicopter tilted sideways and then lowered one of its landing skis down into the face of Cody. The hovering air winds spat out a set of large droplets of lake water in the face and on the helmet in blinding raindrops. Cody reached up with closed eyeballs and then felt, touched, and then grabbed onto the lowered landing ski, wrapping one bicep around the steel gear. The helicopter slowly ascended up into the air. Cody slowly emerged sideways like a parade float in the air and as his legs dropped downward with gravity towards the water. The helicopter tilted side to side from the extra weight, leaning in the opposite direction to compensate a balanced position while barely skimming the water surface. The diver struggled in the pool of river water inside the boat, reaching up and grabbed the opposite skis on the tilted helicopter like Cody.

The helicopter flew forward and away from the row boat with both men on each landing skis. The male was pulled out from the pool of water in the boat while hanging and latched onto the other landing gear on the opposite side of Cody.

Inside the cockpit, pilot Islander pressed the buttons with a sigh of worry, saying through the head phones. "Shit! The copter's too heavy. We're all going to crash back down into the water and drown and die. Get them both off the both skis, right now, Fucner!"

Fucner jumped from the rear bench seat and tumbled down, falling onto the floor and lost the hand gun, reaching out for the soaring weapon, when the helicopter slid sideways. The weapon slid down from the hand, over the floor, around Fucner, through the open hatch, and then down into the river water. Fucner reached out and grabbed both sides of the open hatch door, exhaling with fear while trying not to fall out of the helicopter.

Cody saw the weapon as it dropped down through the air waves and landed into the water while hanging onto the one of the landing skies, bleeding from a mouth and both hands. His body swung side to side as he gritted the teeth and bit the tongue, trying not to fall back down into the water. The mysterious diver also clung and hung onto the other landing gear of the helicopter.

Inside the cockpit, pilot Islander finally straightened up the helicopter and flew towards the river bank of grassy land, gliding the river bank and then the plot of soft grass as the machine wobbles side to side, making Fucner motion sick.

Cody couldn't continue to hang onto the landing skis with a set of bloody and bruised hands, slipping from the wet metal, releasing the gripe and fell down, landing over the hard ground, rolling over the hard soil. Then the diver also lost a hand gripe and dropped down some twenty feet, rolling over the hard soil ahead of Cody.

Islander tried to control the out of control wobbling helicopter, after the sudden ejection of the unbalanced weight as the machine flew side to side. Fucner leaned over hung a green colored face out over the hatch door, vomiting up green puke from the rough air ride.

Cody stopped rolling and rested on a stomach, spitting blood, panting for air molecules.

The diver rolled over and halted on a back spine with a loud grunt, slowly standing upright with a sneer, ripping off the upper portion of the wet suit, staring with fury at Cody in the far distance. He ran ahead towards Cody and tumbled forward, sliding over the dry grass, slapping the feet of Cody.

Cody flipped over and stood upright on both hands and kneecaps, viewing the diver. The diver was a tall and slender male with a tone of pale skin, a head of shoulder length brown hair, a full beard, a set of hair bangs over both eyelids, who started back into the eyeballs of Cody.

Cody continued to stare with a gasp at the unique body armor, a leather torso vest with a set of embedded gem stones that brightly shined within the sunlight.

The tall and lean unknown male reached down and pulled out a pistol with a grunt from underneath the dry vest and leaned down into the face of Cody with sour breath. "You are not the seventh son, even if you are born on the seventh day, of the seventh month. You and your people with drench and drown in blood, for all your crimes of evil. Your men and your appliances of war cannot contend with my victory. Fear me, my brethren, in the foggy fight, because its waves are strong. Its dangers are perilous. Its beast is terrible. Its winds are tempest..."

The helicopter appeared in the blue sky and flew up behind the male when a single bullet discharged from the frontal ship gun with a loud whamp in the air waves. The bullet hit five feet behind the male. The male grunted and side stepped from Cody, spinning around and ran into a thicket of lush green woodlands.

Cody fell backwards into the cold grass with a deep sigh, "Ah naw!"

Islander landed the helicopter down on top of the grass and away from the grounded Cody when Fucner tumbled forward out the open hatchway, falling down on both kneecaps onto the grass, still vomiting up the delicious lunch.
Friday August 6th

City of Huntsville within the US State of Alabama

Hot temperatures with parted clouds of sunshine and three mph winds

10:03 am

Unnamed white painted building

211 Clinton Avenue location

Conference room thirteen interior setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Down the long semi-dark hallway off one of the wings, Yorkie exhaled with a puff of worry and dressed in a set of the yellow colored rubberized and insolated personal protection gear, consisting of a long body gown, a face mask, and a pair of matching gloves. She stood in front of the double doors and tapped out a numeric code on the pair of locked doors. "I have found some strange and intriguing medical conditions on the men and women that you had hauled out from the wet Tennessee River in the city of Decatur and the dry hallways in the Guntersville Dam. I would like for you to act very serious and concerned first. Second, I would like to hear your giggles, after my shocking discovery." The door cracked opened and blew a swift breeze of fridge air into the face mask of Yorkie. She reached up and slammed the cold steel opened, moving inside with a stern face towards a horizontal row of naked tables. Each table contained a yellow colored bed sheet, where a naked person rested on top of the wooden dry surface.

Skippy moved inside and followed behind Yorkie with a sour frown, strolling into a long room which was really an ice cold freezer room that was used as a forensics laboratory. "I am very serious."

"We shall see," she stopped at the first table. Skippy stopped and stood beside her nose profile. She reached over and pulled back the sheet from a dead male cadaver on the first wooden long eating table, where the table had been captured from the dining room that no one used to eat a meal time. Skippy stared with a laugh down at the dead body. She frowned down at the dead body. "You didn't obey my order."

Skippy pointed the body part with a chuckle and a smile. "I'm sorry. It's raised up high like a stuff and stationary American flag."

She nodded with a stern face at the dead male. "The male cadaver dick is fully erected where it holds tons of blood too. I pieced the outer skin, when the blood practically fucked my glove. Dick has been erected, since the air transport dropped him and all the other dead bodies down here with me, which has been longer than five standard tick-tock hours. Do not touch it!"

He whipped both gloved hands near a smile. "I ain't touching nothing, doc. You know, female doctor, it is very natural for a male to awaken to a morning time wood. I personally perform three to five erections each night, when I dream of you, Yorkie, darling."

"Good one, Woody!" She giggled with a grin inside the face mask. "The male has a rare condition called priapism. If he was alive, he would need to visit his physician, immediately. He is not alive, but dead. Yes, I have a simple and complex explanation. The simple explanation, he could have eaten some erectile dysfunction drugs or suffered an injury or sucked down some potent medication or contracted a disease or been bitten by a spider. All of these events cause an erected dick usually on a live body. But I have more of my medical lecture. Let's move to the next stuff which is a female!" They back stepped and scooted around the first table, stopping and stood in side by side in front of the second table. She reached over and pulled off the yellow bed sheet from the dead person.

Skippy stared with a stern face through the face mask at the dead female. "No standing dick."

Yorkie frowned down at the dead female, "Dick head! Females don't possess dicks. You haven't been fucked in a while. Huh, Skippy, sweetie?"

"I might get lucky tonight. Right, darling?" He turned and winked at her nose profile inside the clear face mask, where she missed or ignored while staring down at the female dead body.

"Cody asked me first," she stared with a grin at the female dead body.

He parted the lips inside the mask. "Cody is seventeen years old..."

"I can be funny, too, today. Back to business..."

"Mangrove."

"Berrington," she smiled down at the female dead body. "I love Austin Berrington."

He pointed down with a loud growl at the female cadaver. "The female is..."

"Use your eyeballs and your neurons! Tell me what you see?"

"A pretty you," he turned and winked at her nose profile again while she stared down at the female cadaver.

She jabbed a finger with a sour frown at the female cadaver. "On her, this time..."

He turned with a smile and pointed down to the naked arm and then the naked leg of the female cadaver. "She has facial and chest hair like fucking male."

"Yes! Excess hair on the face and the body of a female is called hirsutism. It's both embarrassing and harmless for a normal girl. Hirsutism affects five percent of the female population, but she has exploded my medical chart to the moon. Excess female hair is caused by an excess of androgens or male hormones, which is the genetic PCOS or the polycystic ovary syndrome. However, in rare cases, excess female hair on the face and the body is caused by hormone-secreting tumors. This female could have a terminal disease and her symptoms are showing up right now all over her body. One reason, she was a devoted world terrorist wanting to blow up Americans, since she was dying anyways. I have to do more testing on that particular medical theory..."

He jabbed a finger with a puzzled brow at the naked hand and the naked foot of the female cadaver. "She has a set of webbed fingers and toes."

She nodded. "Syndactyly or webbed fingers, the medical condition occurs one in every 2,500 babies. A surgeon can separate all the webbed fingers and toes at born, if it is skin tissue that holds the digits together. Sometimes, the webbing is shared with the blood vessels and the bone marrow."

"How common is syndactyly in our four dead friends?"

She turned and winked at his nose profile when he turned and smiled at his girlfriend Yorkie. "Bravo, my prince charming! All four bodies exhibit syndactyly in both hands and feet. And I cannot explain, so don't ask me too."

He exhaled. "I was hoping to be inside this cold-ass freezing refrigerated room for less than ten minutes. I'm guessing wrong here. What is your next shocking scientific sadistic discovery?"

She reached over and grabbed a thick wooden spoon, slapping, and expanded the naked throat of the female cadaver apart with the wooden handle. "She has an Adam's apple. Some females do have them. The small, circular bump in front of the throat is the voice box or the larynx which grows during puberty. In males, the larynx grows bigger for physical visualization while making their voices deeper sounding in tone. Did this female talk to you?"

He nodded, "Yeah. She called me, darling, in a lovely baritone timber," laughing. "She entered the control room of the Guntersville Dam wearing a pair of leather hand gloves, a long pretty silk gray scarf around her throat, and a matching soft cotton bandanna around her lips. I completely understand her chosen fashion statement now. Being a male, I would have noted the facial hair around her mouth and her cheekbones and her protruded Adam's apple, giving away her secret plus IDing the bitch, soonest," chuckling.

She exhaled. "We have had enough fun with her. Let's move to another cadaver!"

He stared down at the female cadaver. "I don't see them."

She turned and frowned at the nose profile of Skipper. "See what?"

He pointed down into the hairy mouth of the female cadaver. "I don't see the cute hollows at her mouth..."

She exhaled. "O dimples," she back stepped and scooted around the second table, marching ahead to the third table in the horizontal row. "Dimples go away, as you age. The cute hollows in the baby's cheeks happen, where the muscles in the face intersect. Dimples change over time and disappear. The trait is hereditary. If you possess dimples, then your kids will also," she stopped and stood in front of the table, reaching out and pulled off the yellow tinted bed sheet, exposing the second female cadaver.

He followed behind and stopped, standing beside her without hugging Yorkie inside a contaminated room with a set of four dead bodies of contaminated germs. He grinned behind the face mask and stared down at the second female cadaver. "I learned something new today. Thanks, darling! Will I see you tonight, sweetheart?"

She smiled down at the second female cadaver. "I do sleep in the same bed but on the right side, when you snore too much," she pointed down at the dead body. "The second female, what do you see different from the first female?"

He stared with a stern face at the second female cadaver, "Yeah! She has an extra pinky finger on each hand along with a set of webbed fingers. And an extra pink toe on each foot along with her webbed toes. Motherfucker, this female is one ugly bitch."

She nodded. "Yes, I suspect that she is older than the first female, also. Polydactyly or extra fingers or toes are pretty common at birth, one out of 1,000 babies. You can see the extra fingers and toes are much smaller than the normal sized pinky finger. The extra fingers and extra toes usually do not possess bones, but these babies do along with blood and tissue. I am really bedazzled with the four dead humans. Almost like, each one was some type of evil and sick biological experiment that went badly medically wrong, since they were alive. Polydactyly is also a hereditary trait too."

"The extra fingers run in the family," he nodded. "Do you think the four dead individuals were related by blood with a series of ugly daddies and uglier mamas?"

"No, I do not. She has a set of extra nipples between her breasts and shoulder blades along with the two dead males, except this trait is common with the males also. A nipple for a male is usually mistaken for a mole or a wart. But, all four dead humans definitely have an extra nipple in the wrong body part."

"Weird!"

She exhaled, "Really weirder, too! I have more to show which is slightly hidden for your normal eye view. Did you see her up and close and personal?"

"Naw. During a murder-kill, you didn't look between the hairy eyebrows. You look at the hidden heart for the blood to start flowing out and flooding the floor which indicates a soon-to-be dead warm body," he chuckled.

She reached up and rammed the handle of the wooden spoon down into the open mouth and between the teeth, lowering down the bottom lip. "Interesting, this is a new description of murder. You are not going to believe the next medical miracle here..."

"Damn! She got bite!" He nodded with a chuckle.

She nodded with a worried brow at the second female cadaver. "Yes, she has a second row of toothies, not delivered by the hand of Tooth Fairy or the will of Almighty God. Usually, a first grader will present with a double row of teeth as their adult teeth shoot up from the healthy gums. Then all the baby teeth will fall out of place. Or a dentist will gently remove all the baby teeth from an elementary school student. This particular female and one of the males have two rows of teeth on the top and the bottom along the rim of the mouth. The second row of teeth is wickedly sharpened and fang-like for chewing on raw meat or something."

"They're something alright both the rows of teeth and the hairy females," he chuckled.

She widened the mouth of the female cadaver and probed the long handle of the wooden spoon deeper down into the open throat. "You won't know of this medical condition, but she is missing her uvula or her tissue flap. It is a tongue-like flap of tissue at the back of your throat which produces saliva like when we smell good tasting barbeque or Fucner drools over a beauty queen," giggling. "The tissue flap is only exhibited on a human maybe for keeping your throat from getting dry when scared or nervous. Anyway, she and all her dead friends are missing the tissue flap. And I don't know why or why not, so don't bother asking me again."

He laughed. "So, she traded a flap for a finger."

She back stepped and scooted around the third table and stood in front of the last table before lifting the yellow tinted bed sheet. Skippy stopped and stood beside her and in front of the table with a worried brow through the clear face mask, "Is it a male or female? I don't wanna be surprised here."

"Surprise!" She ripped the sheet from the body. "His dick is dramatically bent, while erected."

He nodded. "And I bet that hurts like hell, if alive."

She nodded. "This is a classic textbook picture of Peyronie's disease, causing the penis to bend sharply. Normally, a full erection will slight tilt the penis to the left or right. Look closer at his two balls! He got some type of scrotum rejuvenation, maybe, before his disease bent his treasure. His two balls are smooth, hairless with no wrinkles."

"Why would he do that?"

She exhaled. "There are expensive luxury spas that use a laser to remove unwanted hair, wrinkles on old balls, and any discoloration from a long teen-ass scar. I would guess that his male was grooming his person for another female for sex or a sexual ritual for a life time mate. I see a medical pattern here, Skippy. Look at this!"

He back stepped with a chuckle and lifted both gloves over a face mask with a smile, "Naw! I'm too afraid."

She dropped the wooden spoon onto the side of the long table and then reached over, grabbing a set of medical silver tinted tongs, leaning over the body and touching, opening up the sliced up epidermis skin line at the stomach area. "What do you see?"

He gasped with worry. "Am I really seeing, what I am really seeing?"

She nodded. "Yes, your eyesight is perfect like mine. You can live with one kidney. Some people are born with one kidney. The number one organ donation in the world is a kidney for transplantation to a friend, a family member, or a stranger. If one kidney is missing, damaged, or removed, then your other surviving kidney will grow larger, becoming nearly the size of two kidneys, doing the work of two, also. The function of the kidney is to filter your blood from bad stuff. Aspirin, ibuprofen, and naproxen can damage your kidneys. This might be one medical condition for this male, but I don't think so. Early kidney disease doesn't announce itself like a tumor or a bruise. The usual symptoms, you feel tired, experience muscle cramps, lose your appetite, exhibit swollen hands and feet, and your skin itches. When the kidneys stop working, your body fills up with wastes, fluids, and toxins, then you need the help of a machine to filter your blood from toxins and act like your kidney on a daily basis. Or you get a kidney transplant like this fellow had done. The kidneys are shaped like a bean which is the size of your fist. They are located at the bottom of the rib cage on either side of your spinal column."

He frowned. "The left kidney is shaped like a bean but physically different in the size of a pea from the right kidney. The right looks normal, to me, like the size of my fist. Is that humanly possible in a human being? Is that some type of unknown disease?"

She exhaled. "No. Almighty God created the kidney shape twice as nice and the same size and weight inside every single human body. The medical condition diabetes is unused blood sugar that can damage both your kidneys, one cause for the removal of your kidney. High blood pressure can hurt the small blood vessels in the kidneys too making it harder for the organ to function. This male had some type of kidney disease for a medical physician to remove his normal kidney. Except, this man's kidney was removed and then replaced with a smaller kidney which is highly unusual. This is a child's kidney, not another adult's. This is so weird and bedazzling all at the same time."

He frowned. "Was it passing some a set of bad kidney stones? I heard that they hurt like hell balls."

She said. "A set of kidney stones are formed from too much calcium in your urine. The stones reside in your kidney or travel down the urinary tract, where you can't urine them out of the body. Kidney stones come in different shapes and sizes from a tiny grain of sand to a pearl-sized to a rare golf-ball-sized. Dehydration or lack of water or fluids will damage the kidneys and cause kidney stones. However, I've never heard of kidney stones damaging the kidney, causing a removal like this one. Also, kidney stones are hereditary, too. I just don't know all the real medical answers to my medical curiosity. Your two kidneys are workhorses in the body. They remove waste, extra fluids, keep your salt and potassium level in check, keep your blood pressure normal, and make red blood cells. My concern or curiosity, on a daily basis, the kidneys sift through 200 quarts of blood or about a bathtub-sized load of blood and then excrete about two quarts of urine from the body. How in the hell did this male pee, shit, and function with a pea-sized kidney and a fist-sized kidney?"

"You say that a person only needs one kidney to live."

She pointed down at the male cadaver. "See that empty spot? It used to be the placement for the pancreas. The human pancreas is about six inches long and tadpole-shaped with a head, a body, and a tail. The organ sits inside the abdomen behind the stomach and in front of the spine. The pancreas breaks down fats and proteins for use inside your body and makes islets of Langerhans. Islets are tiny clusters of cells that make insulin, balancing out your blood sugar. Islets of Langerhans were described by the German pathologist Paul Langerhans in the year 1860. You can live without a pancreas meaning you are dependent on insulin shots to manage the hormones that control your blood sugar in the body. Then, the pancreas attacks itself, becoming blocked with the body's own enzymes. A self-destructive pancreas creates lots of trouble for the human body. One, when the pancreas enzymes build up, it causes acute pancreatitis. Acute pancreatitis can be treated in a hospital setting by IV fluids. Two, chronic pancreatitis is caused by genetics or cystic fibrosis or medications or alcohol drinking. Three, Type 1 diabetes occurs when the islets no longer make enough insulin. Then sometimes, when the diabetes is hard to control the patient receives a pancreas transplant. Finally, pancreatic cancer is rare with 2.8 percent of new cases. It is hard to identify and is the fourth leading cause cancer deaths in the US, mostly diagnosed in the elderly between ages 75 to 84 years old. I do not know why the pancreas was removed from each dead cadaver. But, the pancreas detects fructose, a natural sugar found in fruits and honey. So maybe, they were too sweet," giggling.

Skipper sneered. "They were too sour and mean and vile and..."

She pointed down at the male cadaver with the tongs. "The tiny vertical tissue of his appendix is missing too. It belongs, right there. The appendix doesn't perform a life-saving function like your lungs or heart. Over the years, a group of physicians have concluded that the appendix stores good bacteria, until needed for digesting food. Therefore, when the appendix is infected, it is removed. Except here, all four of the cadavers are without an appendix. I suspect the good bacteria get eaten up with some bad bacteria. Therefore, the organ had to be removed for continued health," exhaling. "I am almost finished here with my weird medical lecture. Do you see the triangle shaped organ? That's the liver."

He frowned. "I learned from my advanced biology class in college that the liver is shaped like a football, sorta wedge shaped. It weighs three pounds and is brownish pink, the largest organ in your body other than your skin..."

"Mangrove said that, too," Yorkie giggled. "The liver is all that and more. It is located on the right side of your body, underneath the rib cage. However, this liver is about one pound and pinkish-red and then pinkish-brown. It, too, is a child's liver that has been cut or damaged or something. The liver is the only organ that re-grows from damage or removal. People donate parts of their livers to family or friends, saving a life. Yeah! Some poor young child had donated to save this person, in the short term. The liver is important with many functions, such like, making bile for digestion of food, pumping energy and nutrients into the body, un-clotting your blood, removing toxins out of the blood, and so forth. Too much alcohol and acetaminophen can damage the liver, when used excessively. You develop liver disease, alcoholic hepatitis, and alcoholic cirrhosis. Stop taking it or not turning back!"

Skippy clapped the heavy gloves together with a nod and a stern face. "Wait. I have some more information to share with ya. Islander worked for the FBI. He was there outside with his dog, when the FBI Laboratory center imploded and then burned down to the ground from a hidden bomb, compliments of Brone. Islander was there, because he saw parts and pieces of dead humans, consisting of men, women, and children. On the day of the explosion, the FBI received three bodies of young healthy boys with a set of missing internal organs."

She gasped, "My gawd! This tiny baby kidney and matching baby liver could be one or two of the missing organs that had been discovered at the FBI Laboratory. I can't believe this or them. They destroyed the entire building with people inside to save this deep dark secret. I'm a physician. I am telling you. This is a child's kidney inside an adult male. Something more! I found inside the dead female. Her liver and kidney were smaller than normal also. Some of her internal organs had been removed and then replaced with other internal organs which didn't match in size or weight a regular female human but seemed to biological and chemical function. I can't explain that weird-ass theory either. The female was alive while talking and waving that gun in your face. I read your final report, too." She back stepped and scooted around the third table to the next naked wooden eating table, stopping and stood in the front of the table. She reached out and pulled back the bed sheet with a smile, "Cadaver dick, too! Lean down and smell his tongue..."

"Naw!" He followed behind her back spine and halted with a smile a few feet before the fourth table with the male cadaver. "Not for a one billion bucks, girl!"

"I have a very important point to show..."

"Naw!" He shook the helmet with the face mask and stared down with a sour frown at the male cadaver. "I will not do it for a one trillion bucks, girl. He's fucking dead, Yorkie."

She reached down and used the wooden spoon to open the mouth of the male cadaver, "Fine! He has a set of tonsil stones or tonsilloliths bumps, which are harmless. There are a set of tiny lumps that kiss his tonsils. The lumps are hard bumps of matter which leave a bad taste in your mouth that comes from gathered bacteria. All four of the cadavers have a set of tonsil stones. Did you notice their fingernails?"

He moved ahead and stood beside Yorkie, staring down with a stern face at the fingernails of the male cadaver, "Uh huh! Some pretty colors for nail polish selection, but I guess it's not really real girly nail polish. Females wear nail polish, too."

She pointed the wooden spoon with a stern face down at the cadaver hand. "Males do not wear colored green nail polish. The color is many germs of bacteria which are caused by a fungal infection. This is treatable by antibiotics. Fifty percent change within your normal nail color is caused by fungal infections. Yellow nails represent a fungus. Red or purple or black individual tone of color underneath the nails is an injury, where the blood has gathered under the nail bed."

He smiled down at the male cadaver. "Well, you've covered almost all the body parts of the human..."

"Not yet!"

He frowned with worry. "Not yet?"

She moved ahead towards to the fourth table and stopped, standing in front of the table, reaching out and flipped up the bed sheet. The sheet floated upward and then landed down onto the floor. The table showed a naked hairy female cadaver. Yorkie reached out towards the naked arm of the female cadaver. "Help me flip her over!"

He back stepped with a worried brow and lifted both gloves into the air, shaking the helmet, "Ah naw! I ain't touching that dead thing."

She lifted the arm and pointed the glove at the object on the ceiling. "Then draw down the meat hook for me!"

Skipper reached up and touching the cold metal, pulling on a smooth-feeling and nasty-looking steel devise that was shaped into two curved hooks down towards the table with the female cadaver. He attached two separate hooks down into a hole each side of piece of wood which rested underneath the female cadaver. Yorkie reached up and touched, grabbing a piece of twisted rope that was attached to a devise with the two meat hooks, gently pulling the rope down towards the floor. The piece of wood slowly lifted up into the air on one side of the table and away from Yorkie and Skippy. Then the female cadaver tilted with the piece of wood, sliding down and flipped over on a stomach with a loud thud over the naked eating table.

He gagged and then coughed clearing a throat, shaking the helmet in shock and pointed at the female cadaver, "Ah naw! Naw, now! That, right there, is a true joke for a poor old man..."

She gently lifted up the rope while allowing the piece of wood to slowly fall back down onto the naked wood with a loud boom while giggling down at the female cadaver with a nod. "I learned as a child in Sunday school class at church that a demon always wears a tail."

He jabbed a gloved finger at the object with a worried brow, "A tail! The female has a real tail, ugly, and brown covering her asshole, too."

She smiled. "A baby can be born with a tail which is really a set of extra spinal bones that grows longer than the regular spinal cord. This medical condition spinal bifida is the genetic explanation which is always easily removed by a surgeon at birth in the hospital room, except for our four dead friends."

"Dead people are not my friends." Skipper exhaled with a huff of worry. "So, what do we have here inside your pseudo-laboratory, Yorkie? Two females and two males, they are significantly modified from present day human beings, number one. Two females and two males, they morphed from yesterday into a set of four monsters, number two. I really don't believe in monsters, since eight years old when I shot the shotgun underneath my bed and killed the boogie man."

She exhaled with a puff of worry. "You are very, very close, Skippy. These four dead bodies were experiencing some type of dramatic strand of genetic mutations that were occurring all at the same time change within the single DNA blocking blocks of life which is really impossible from a medical point of view. When a person receives a sex change operation, the person is a still nice looking human being. These four dead persons are not nice looking or a human being. I need more blood, tissue, and skin laboratory tests. I would say that they are devolving back into a set of primitive cavemen and women humanoids species that existed some one million years ago. The extra facial hair on the female is in the wrong place along with the overly hairy males."

"His penis ain't covered in hair."

Yorkie smiled. "Yes, that is correct. Hair does not grow on the hand palms, the foot soles, your dick, or his penis, Skippy."

"That's good to know, when I got old and wrinkled," laughed Skippy.

She exhaled. "Four-legged animals display a full erection when mating. It is a natural instinct to produce a little baby animal while keeping the species viable. These two males were exhibiting the same primal instinct as they had been trying to revive some type of long lost man-kind species that went extinct before my birth and the birth of the dinosaurs."

Skipper laughed. "Is his gray matter missing?"

She frowned, "No, silly boy! I checked that, too. Their individual brain does control all the weird components inside each dead body, before your personal switchblade did some good destruction. The gray matter is really cell bodies of neurons in a thin outer layer of your brain. The white matter contains a series of nerve fibers that run messages or nerve impulses faster through the body like when physically wounded or emotionally scared. I can't run tests on dead matter, only live folks. These four dead bodies are truly monsters, not four humans. I ran a liver profile on each one of the four different sized baby livers while checking for an internal injury, a terminal disease, or a bacterial infection. Alcoholic cirrhosis is scarring of the liver tissue which is the worse of the liver diseases that results in Hepatitis B or C. However, I did not find anything visually or chemically on each dead human body.

"A liver disease is a silent killer with no warning signs for the sick person. If the liver is diseased, then the sick person would exhibit such like, swelling of the belly, a toilet of dark urine, and the yellowing of each eyeball and the outer skin. A yellow shade of skin is too much bilirubin in your blood stream. Bilirubin is a yellow pigment, when the red blood cells break down. The liver filters out the bilirubin, if not, you get yellow skin or jaundice. You can see that our four dead friends are not yellow, but a lovely olive colored with set of nice brown patches of hair that is growing everywhere.

"My medical summary, each baby child liver is healthy and growing which is really weird, too. This particular laboratory result makes me believe that the liver transplantation is very recent, maybe a year or less. However, something or some person has attacked numerous internal organs, tissues, and blood, and epidermis. I'm a physician. To me, it appears that there is some type of poison exchange with their normal blood. No. They are not true vampires either.

"If the world history book were true about vampires living with us since the 1600s, then humans would be permanently gone from planet Earth. Then, the flock of vampires with a set of wings will be sucking on green plants or the pale tinted throat of each other. There isn't enough blood from one dead human to feed one living vampire. So the mythological vampire theory sucks. So, the four dead humans are monsters," she reached down to the table and grabbed, lifting up a single sheet of paper into the helmet, reading out loud the content to Skippy.

"This is a blood type result for each dead person. I call it, Z-blood type. The human red blood cells are shaped like a disc which is rounded and smooth. In a human with sickle-cell disease, the red blood cells are sickle-shaped or crescent which lead to constant pain and an early death for the sick patient. The immunology condition of anemia is an abnormally low number of red blood cells in the blood stream. The cells are disc-shaped but rapidly burst open. The bursting of red blood cells causes both fatigue and breathlessness in the human body. My report show the Z-blood type come from all the four dead folks is square-shape..."

"Naw," he chuckled. "My mask is covering both my eardrums. I think that I heard a miscommunication for you, darling. There is no such thing as a square blood cell, since all blood cells are a round shape or a semi-round design. Is there, Yorkie?"

She continued to read out loud the paper report to Skippy. "I have never seen a square-shaped red colored blood cell in my medical professional career. Hmm! The kidneys produce and distribute all the red blood cells. Maybe, the squared-shaped red blood cells come from the abnormal combination of the tiny kidney of the child plus the adult kidney which is making an abnormal pairing. And all the red blood cells are bigger than mine and yours. Red blood cells carry oxygen to the tissues. Was she strong? Did you fight with her in a hand-to-hand combat mode?"

"Naw."

She stared with a nod at the female cadaver. "Good thing, darling! She would've kicked your ass back to the moon. These four dead humans are not human. Without further blood tests..."

"You got four dead bodies for lots of blood, skin, tissue, and organ tests..."

"I meant to say, that I have tested these four cave bears. I would like some more Neanderthals from Brone's bird flock for further testing and verification. I suspect that the entire army of Brone is composed of monsters like these four dead cadavers. He is doing some weird scientific experimentation. I don't have any more answers. But, I suspect that these people were dying of some type of terminal disease, so Brone was trying to save them in a unique application of alternative medical procedures. And I don't understand Brone's interest in the biblical Ark, the petrified wood piece, the entire site of every American nuclear power plant, the copper scrolls, the tiara gems stones, the...."

"Can we stop any more of these alive and breathing monsters in an army with an array of firing bullet or a big fat fire bomb where they have been created by madman scientist Brone?"

She frowned. "O. Lookie at that," Yorkie reached over and grabbed a pair of tweezers from the line of medical instruments on top of the table, leaning down with a stern face into the side of the skull and plucked out something from the male cadaver. She stood upright and lifted the pair of tweezers into the air, studying the object through the face mask.

He back stepped with a worried bro and shook both gloves with a sissy whine. "Jeezus, Yorkie! Don't touch it in my presence in here," he stared the object also. "What is that that thing which came from the earlobe of the female cadaver?"

She smiled at the object and twirled it around with the tweezers in the air. "It is a piece of human ear wax. Your ear canals clean themselves every time when you chew or move your jaw. You are helping the old ear wax wiggle out of your ear canal and into your ear opening. Then the wax dries and falls out from the earlobe. The outer third of your ear canal is a small tunnel. The skin inside your ear has special glands that make ear wax. The yellow, gooey wax inside your ears keeps them healthy. Earwax stops dust, dirt, bugs, and other crap from getting into your inner eardrum while protecting the ears from infection. Except, this particular extraction coming from the male cadaver is pure stark white color, hard as a rock, and a flaky condition on the piece of ear wax coming from her outer ear. This is the first sign of an infection inside the body. And I don't know, if we can stop the army of monsters, Skippy. But, I do know that I and the White House want Brone captured alive and breathing to answer all these scary puzzled questions." He nodded in silence and stared at the ear wax.
Saturday August 7th

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

10:10 a.m.

Unnamed white painted building

211 Clinton Avenue location

Conference room thirteen interior setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Cody, Skippy, Islander, Yorkie, and Fucner returned back and gathered inside the same building, where the team had first met during the Miss Starlit pageant in Huntsville which houses the hidden freezer morgue room off the side of the main hallway without the four cadavers.

Inside the same conference room, Cody sat inside the chair with a smile and a pair of blackened eye sockets, when his nose ran into the landing gear on the flying helicopter, Thursday afternoon, while escaping from the villain named Brone.

Islander sat with a smile next to Fucner and stared at the scuffed and bruised blue colored nose profile of Cody. "We removed you from the hospital bed when your fleet of assigned pretty registered nurses filed a multitude of sexual harassment charges with the human resource department at the hospital for groping each breast and pinching an ass..."

"Can a patient do that?" Fucner lifted the fork of food and then inserted into an open mouth with a chuckle, chewing the breakfast entree.

Islander smiled at the nose prolife of Cody. "Hell naw! A patient or physician or paid personnel can't do that to an employed nurse at any hospital within the USA."

Skipper sat on the opposite side of the table and lifted a fork of food, staring at the nose profile of Cody with a smile. "Well, you are looking better, Cody. Your eye sockets are only navy blue, instead of midnight black. And I'm very happy to report that there has not been a nuclear power plant threat or an active explosion which killed thousands of Americans. I guess we were wrong about Brone, attacking a nuclear power plant. I confess that I don't know what Brone is after or doing. So, tell us about Brone and Swan Creek, Cody!"

Cody slapped a chest with a nod. "He is short like...like, not like me. He was about five, three..."

Islander frowned. "Wait! Alvin was five feet and three inches short too. Did we kill the right Dorothy, skipper?"

Cody yelled, "SUSY-Q."

SUSY-Q appeared and stood in the archway and as her head blinked with a set of yellow and blue lines on the television-shaped head. Her voice droned with speech with a female soprano voice. "Good morning! I am present, Mr. Cody."

Cody stood upright with a laugh and moved ahead with a smile to the robot, stopping and stood beside the metal, roaming both hands over the entire metal body with a chuckle. "SUSY-Q, where did you get that cute pink two-piece bikini for your metal body?"

Skippy turned and frowned at Fucner. "I wonder too."

Fucner smiled with a nod at the robot. "She looks like a semi-sexy girl now. You need to reshape her square television monitor head into a curvy screen next. Then, she'll be a living circuit," he stabbed the food and lifted the food to the mouth, chewing.

Islander smiled with a nod Cody and SUSY-Q. "Stop finger fucking the robot, Cody! Geez! The boy's a pervert. When was the last time you got fucked by a real female babe with real breasts, Cody?"

Cody released both the hands from the metal and spun around, moving back to the table, sitting back down in the chair with a smile, "It's been awhile!" He lifted the fork and chewed the breakfast food.

Fucner chewed and swallowed the food with a grin and a nod to Cody. "Well then, I'll hook you up with one of my sexy curvy girls, tonight. Meet me at the hotel..."

"Cody is a teen at seventeen years old, Fucner," Skippy frowned.

Fucner chuckled. "Well then, I lied. Sorry, kid!" He lifted a forkful of food to the mouth and chewed with a grin.

"Fucking bitch one," Cody pointed the fork with a chuckle at Fucner. "Fucking bitch two is a tall male with a head of brown colored hair and a full brown matching beard, and a pair of brown eyes, too. He was wearing a brown leather vest too, since he likes the color of brown. I guess. He ripped off the wet suit, revealing an enclosed chest vest which was covered in a set of glittering clean gem stones, after not drowning in the river water flood that almost drowned the row boat," he lifted the forkful of food and chewed with a nod.

Yorkie frowned. "A chest vest of glittering gem stones, why would he show you that particular article of clothing, Cody?"

Skippy nodded. "And one of Brone's dead soldiers ambushed me there at the Guntersville Dam like we had predicted while they were simultaneously trying to rob the river bank at Swan Creek. This is really weird or on purpose. She was wearing a bandanna around her face like a western outlaw of days gone bye-bye. But, I guess those days are about to revived. Anyways, she killed the poor dam control manager in cold blood and then pressed the correct red colored button by good luck or by good knowledge while opening up all the flood gates of hell, as they say. The flood waters started rising like a batch of my grandmother's buttered biscuits, as they say, too. I'm glad that you only got a boat load of water, Cody, as they say. My understanding, lots of folks on the Tennessee River weren't as lucky. There were some people drownings, boat wreckages, shoreline property damage, and both sets of speed boats and people collisions that were really bad. The TVA birthday party turned into an emergency room reunion with wholesome families from all over northern Alabama, instead of a nuclear dead party. I'm glad that Brone didn't hurt you too badly, either, Cody."

Cody chewed and swallowed the food, pointing to Islander with a smile. "Thanks to Islander's quick draw and fast shooting while operating a rotator air craft," he reached over and fist bumped with Islander.

Skippy nodded. "Continue, Cody."

Cody chewed and swallowed the food with a stern face. "I conclude here that Brone was not interested in any of the American nuclear power plant facilities. He wanted our treasure, but he failed," he reached down into the short sleeved shirt pocket and pulled out an object near a smile. "The treasure is a nicely chiseled baby blue agate gem stone with a flat back for mounting onto something. I failed, too. I didn't find the copper scrolls, either. I guess that they are out there, somewhere. I don't have any more hints of its new location..."

"That's okay, Cody!" Yorkie looked up with a smile to see the gem stone in the hand of Cody. "For some reason, both unexplained and unknown, Brone was after that rock, not the nuclear plant in Decatur. What is the importance of that baby blue agate, Cody?"

Skippy frowned. "Wait! Let's verify first! Cody and I saw the same person named Brone, before we continue to postulate any more wild-ass theories about the Ark of the Covenant. SUSY-Q, please replay the murder scene in the lunchroom between the male named Brone and the second male named Alvin on the wall."

A female shaped robot appeared and stood inside the archway. She was tall and silver tinted with a pair of two arms, a pair of two legs, a television square shaped head on a girly metal body of 36, 24, 38 measurements. SUSY-Q blinked with a set of yellow and blue lines on the television head and droned with speech with a female soprano voice. "Yes, Mr. Skippy!" She moved ahead and then turned to face the wall, parking in front of the white painted wall as her television head of colored brightened on the white paint with a semi-dark recording that sounded with a set of jumbled sentences.

Skippy spun the chair around and pointed to the wall, describing the scene and action. "This was inside the lunchroom, where I was bleeding on the rotating door and then onto the floor. Brone and Alvin are both standing. Then, Brone kills Alvin's kneecap with the hammer. Alvin ain't standing anymore and squealing and squirming in tortured pain over the floor. I heard more the vocal ear-piercing yelling rather than seeing most of the physical action, since I had a head concession with a pair of blurry eyeballs. Alvin falls down onto the floor. Brone moves ahead and stands over Alvin. Brone is tall like Cody has described."

Fucner frowned at the electronic recording on the white painted wall. "Why can't I hear all the damn words, coming from the tall and slender man named Brone?"

Cody nodded at the electronic recording on the white painted wall. "It's dark..."

"Darkness has nothing to do with recording audio sounds and voices, dumb shit," Fucner laughed.

Islander laughed. "You're a dumb ass, Fucner. The building, like us, shook from the series of hidden bomb explosions inside the convention center which was three city streets away. Some of the mechanical recording parts were loosen or damaged inside the video recording box. Therefore, Cody is right, again. The malfunctioning video recorded didn't capture all the wording of Brone."

On the white painted wall, the recording displayed from the television-like head of SUSY-Q.

Brone squats down to the floor in front of Alvin with a smile. "...knee pop...knee hurts..." Then there is a vicious scream. He said. "...work in a job...pilot...inflamed sac...gardeners. You're too..."

Then, he grins with a chuckle. "...protective gear...with an orthopedic surgeon...ortho surgeons...surgeries. The number..."

Then, he stands upright from the floor and reaches over, whipping out a hand pistol from the side of the chest, pointing the cold barrel down at the face of Alvin. "...you will...I...miss...shebo..." He fires the gun.

Alvin slumps down and then dies on top of the dark floor in a puddle of blood.

Brone looks down with a smile at the dead body and then slowly back steps turning to face the door and Skippy. He moves ahead and stops standing over on the floor at Skippy.

Skippy rests over the floor and lifts both hands in fear and self-defense.

Brone smiles. "Today...not...die..." he back steps from Skippy and exits the dining room.

SUSY-Q cut off the recording video and stood in place when the wall appeared in white again.

"I miss shebo?" Cody frowned with puzzlement at the white wall.

Fucner frowned at the white wall also. "I will miss you, Shebo. Who is Shebo? I thought that we killed all the nasty females starting with the letter of 's' like Sheba, Shego, Shebo..."

Cody pointed at the wall with a smile, "Shebo. Shebo. Shebo is the answer. O my gawd. O my gawd. Don't you see it here?" He stood upright from the chair and twirled around in a circle, halting to see each team member. "O my gawd. O my gawd. O my gawd..."

Fucner stood upright from the chair and held the fork of dripping food, bowing at a fit waist, standing upright again with a laugh. "Thank you one and all for my IDs," he sat back down and turned with a smile to nod at Cody, holding the fork of food with a laugh, "What's troubling you, my son?"

Cody waved both arms with a smile to see each team member. "Shebo, the daughter of Brone, isn't a real physical girl. It's a stone from the Bible. Shebo is another name for agate. The one, Brone was looking for and I found. One of twelve stones given by Moses from God in the Bible..."

Fucner chewed and swallowed the food with a sour frown. "Cody, how in the fucking hell do you know so much about the Bible? You break about hundreds commandants-per-hour like using the Lord's name in vain, committing murder with guns, committing adultery with adult chicks, cheating me, stealing from me, and lying to me..."

Cody sat down with a frown to see Fucner and then each team member. "I am a good Christian. I go to church and ask for God's forgiveness, every single morning, at ten am, when preaching time starts. In the Book of Exodus, Chapter 24, Verse 4, 'Moses built an altar, the Ark of the Covenant at the foot Mount Sinai and set up twelve stone pillars, coming from the waters of Jordan River. Joshua gathered up all the twelve stones from the bottom of the river,'" he smiles and wiggles the agate stone. "Brone is looking for the twelve stones inside the Ark of the Covenant, not the copper scrolls, or the stone tablets. This is it. I retrieved the blue agate from the murky waters of the Tennessee River like Joshua did and Brone wanted to do..."

"The blue stone," Skippy turned and gasped in alarm at Yorkie, "Is this the blue tinted ring stone for the lost Ring of King Solomon?"

Yorkie stared at the stone and Cody. "I don't know. No one knows the true name of the blue gem stone that was formed and set into the lost Ring of King Solomon. Cody, why are so certain that Brone wants the twelve stones from the twelve tribes of Israel?"

Cody nodded with a stern face. "I can prove it. Brone worn a torso vest that was covered with gem stones, one. Two, one was missing one sideway oval shape like this one," he lifted up the rock in the air with a smile. "The baby blue agate stone is the missing gem stone inside Brone's vest..."

Fucner frowned. "What about the dangerous radiation level which would indicate that the object was supposed to be one or both of the copper scrolls?"

Cody waved a hand. "Radiation is everywhere. It wasn't dangerous and very low for us while needing to pinpoint the location of the missing gem stone. Don't you get it! This is part of the missing breastplate that came directly Moses who gave it to his biological brother Aaron."

Islander shook a skull with a stern face. "Look! This police or legal or national investigation is getting both silly and weird. At first, it was the Ark then the gold of the Ark, then the gem stones from the pageant. Now, you're telling me that Brone only wants the gem stones, not the golden ark, which no one knows the location of, anyways. I don't believe any of this, anymore," frowning.

Fucner sipped and swallowed the coffee with a nod. "Ditto, here!"

Cody reached down and grabbed, waving the agate stone in the air with a nod and a smile. "I can prove it. I can really prove it, ya'll. SUSY-Q, the gem stone of blue agate was missing from the tiaras of all the Miss Starlit contestants. Am I correct?"

SUSY-Q faced the white wall and as she said in a female timber. "Yes, Mr. Cody." Each mouth on a face dropped open in shock.

Cody nodded with a smile to each team member. "The deadly bomb blast was set for a specific purpose other than robbing a gem stone from a glittering tiara. It was really a ruse for the jewelry thief to rob only seven more gem stones. SUSY-Q, show all the Bible twelve gem stones with the gem descriptions on top, representing the twelve tribes of the children of Israel." The colored lights on the television head glowed and then projected onto the white wall, showing a circle of twelve rounded stones in a different color and a printed description name. He smiled. "Okay. I'm going to call off each gem. I would like for you to inform us, if the gem stone was stolen during the bomb explosion on the last evening of the Miss Starlit pageant. Are you ready, SUSY-Q?"

She said in a female timber at the electronic image of stone on the physical wall, "Yes, Mr. Cody."

Cody stood upright with a huff of excitement and back stepped from the chair, side stepping from the table, stopped and stood next with a smile in front of the wall and away from the robot. "Okay. After I name the gem stone, please remove it from the electronic image on the wall, SUSY-Q. Okay?"

"Yes, Mr. Cody."

Cody reached out and pointed at the first electronic image of the stone. "The blue sapphire was stolen right before the bomb explosion. Therefore, it was not part of the collection of stolen gem stones on the night of the bomb explosion. Was the blue sapphire stone displayed by one of the pageant girls on the final night of the Miss Starlit pageant?"

"No, Mr. Cody."

Cody pointed to the second electronic image of the gem stone. "I promise that I'll go faster with all my multiple questions. SUSY-Q, first question, was any pageant girl wearing an emerald or a ruby or a diamond inside a tiara the night of the bomb explosion? Second question, was the diamond stone stolen from the stage pageant?"

"The answer is no on both questions, Mr. Cody." Each mouth on a face dropped open in shock and silence.

Cody pointed to the electronic image of stones on the white wall with a stern face. "Please, verify the next ten stolen gem stones as I identify them in no specific order. Then, you can remove the electronic image of the stone from the physical wall. A purple amethyst. A golden topaz. A black onyx. A pale yellow ligurus. An orange jasper. A green heliodor. A light green chrysoprase. A yellow chrysolite. A bright red carnelian. A blood red carbuncle. Am I correct, SUSY-Q?" All the electronic images of stones disappeared as the wall returned back into solid white hue again.

"Yes, Mr. Cody."

Cody continued to stand next to a white wall and turned with a stern face to see each team member. "All this shit hit me, when I saw Brone's torso vest," he reached over and grabbed, snatching one of the black markers from the pile of office supplies on top of the conference room, swinging to face the wall. He used the mark to draw an outline of a man's torso, without a set of arms. Then he drew a series of egg-sized objects in three straight rows, pointing at the new drawing, saying to each member. "A breastplate is a set of plates that cover the front of the body from the neck down to the below the waist. A breastplate is one of the oldest pieces of body armor, during a war. Moses was a tall dude who was able to tote a set of two thick and rectangular stone tablets down from the mountain side. 'Aaron wore the breastplate on the heart,' that comes from the Book of Exodus Chapter 28, verse 29.

"Aaron was tall like his brother. A tall man of six feet and three inches possesses about a fifty-six inched chest that goes around the upper torso. The frontal breastplate would have held all twelve gem stones for beauty and protection. Half of fifty-six inches is twenty-eight inches. I removed four inches for the two smelly armpits. The total number of inches across the chest is twenty-four inches. There are five egg-shaped gem stones on the first row near the neck which takes fifteen inches of the total twenty-four inches, filling the chest with a set of shiny mineral nicely. Then, there are four egg-shaped gem stones that are located on the second row. On the third row, you have the Asher tribe which is represented by the agate stone in the middle per the Bible. 'The agate was the second stone, of the third row, for the tribe of Asher.'"

Cody leaned into the wall and drew a third row with a set of two egg-sized stones on the end and a flat oval shape in the middle with a smile. "Here is cute wall drawing of the breastplate which had been worn by Aaron and Brone. I don't know the exact size of the stones..."

Islander reached over and grabbed, typing on the tiny keyboard with a stern face, reading out loud new information on the mobile telephone. "This might be of help, Cody. The largest polished gem stone in the world is currently the Cullinan diamond which has the dimensions of three inches long, two inches wide, two inches deep, weighing one pound," he looked up with a smile and a nod to see Cody. "That's one big and heavy gem stone."

Fucner looked down with a smile and typed on the tiny keyboard, reading out loud with a laugh the new information on the mobile telephone to all eardrums. "It says here that the priest's underwear was for glory and for beauty..."

"The undergarments of the priest, man! He can't read or write," Islander looked down with a laugh to see the same information from Fucner on the tiny screen of the mobile telephone.

Fucner continued to silently read the internet information with a sneer on the mobile telephone. "Fuck you!"

"But, curses really well," Islander continued to silently read the same internet information on the mobile telephone.

"O. 'The priest wore priestly breeches from the waist down to the knees to cover thy nakedness, not visible underneath the priestly tunic' that comes from Book of Exodus, Chapter 28 and Verse two. And they wore a chef's hat to cover thy cone-shaped naked stinky hair roots," Fucner looked up with a laugh and a grin to see a rear skull of each team member as each team member viewed Cody and his drawing on the wall. "Almighty God had to tell these folks in the Bible to wear underwear like their Earth mama and daddy, who are Adam and Eve. Geez! What a batch of biblical dummies?"

"Thanks for wasting our time, Fucner." Yorkie frowned at Rector.

Fucner nodded with a wicked grin to Yorkie. "You are most happily welcome, my dear."

Cody tossed a hand with a nod. "Okay. Okay. Brone is duplicating the twelve stones from the priestly breastplate of Aaron for some weird-ass reason..."

"Son of a bronze," Fucner chuckled with a nod to Cody.

"Son of a Bronx," Islander grinned with a nod to Cody.

"Son of a bitch," Skippy frowned with a nod to Cody.

Yorkie exhaled with a huff of confusion to Cody. "Why would Brone create the same exact priestly breastplate with the same exact colored twelve gem stones which was represented by the same exact twelve tribes of Israel that was worn by the same exact biblical Aaron?"

Fucner laughed with a nod. "Ahem! I have been shouting out that same answer up to the heavens all along. No one can find the Ark of the Covenant. It sleeps in heaven, not inside a musky cave or under the hot sandy desert or underneath gallons of ocean water. Don't you possess two eardrums to hear like me?"

Cody shook his blonde haired curls with a stern face. "I don't know how to address that. His bejeweled chest vest is the test. The chest vest held all the specific Bible mentioned gem stones but one, the agate. Brone is after the biblical gem stones, not the biblical Ark or the biblical copper scrolls."

Yorkie nodded with a stern face to Cody. "Brone wants all of the twelve gem stones which are mentioned in the Bible for his pretty vest. How did he know that the blue agate was in small town Tanner here in Alabama?"

Fucner laughed. "He consulted a fortune teller. You know we should've done the same damn thing making for less time and more fun."

Cody lifted up and wiggled the captured blue colored agate stone near a smile. "I suspect that someone planted it there."

Islander continued to find new information inside the internet and read out loud from the tiny screen of the mobile telephone. "I suspect that a beauty queen is dead. I found an internet article of a dead girl, who was the previous winner of the Miss Starlit pageant, two years ago. Her apartment was robbed and she was murdered. The police have not found the killer, either. Her possessions listed as a gold watch, a diamond bracelet, and a tiara with a blue agate stone," he looked up with a nod to Cody.

Fucner nodded with a smile to Cody. "So Brone did it. He has been living here in the Huntsville area for years. Man! This entire thing has been a setup for something else, coming with a bigger boom."

Skippy nodded with a stern face to Cody and spun around inside the chair to see the other team members with a stern face also. "I finally agree with one of Fucner's statements. Brone is cooking up something else here in Huntsville. Let me point out that you are my team, but you can stand and walk away right now. You have been paid for your old assignment which was to stop madman and crazy ass villainous Brone from exploding an American nuclear power plant. We did it, ya'll. No power plant had exploded. But, we have a new assignment to find Brone. Who wants to leave the job and the assignment? You can get up and go right now. Nothing will be said or documented by me as the team leader." Silence invaded the air waves of the conference room. And no person stood upright from a chair as a pair of eyeballs turned and scanned each stern face of determination in silence. Skippy slapped the conference room table with a smile and nod to each team member including Yorkie. "Excellent, ya'll! I have my team and you will be paid tonight for your day's contribution at midnight. Let us start with the simply assumption! Brone wants the gem stones for more than beauty on his pretty leather chest vest. Start the questions now?" Cody moved ahead and sat back down in the same chair with a smile in silence.

Islander turned and frowned to each team member. "Why come here to our happy state of Alabama for a blue rock? We have agate rocks right here in our landscape, but there are numerous types of agate rocks are located all over the world also," he looked down with a puzzled brow and typed on the tiny screen, reading out loud the new information on the mobile telephone. "For example, the blue stone of lapis lazuli, inside Miss Madagascar's tiara, has been mined for over 6,000 years. It's nicknamed 'the blue star' and can heal headaches and sore throats. Within a 6,000-year time frame, there must be zillions of tiny blue stone everywhere in the world to hunt and find."

Skipper nodded with a stern face to the hair roots of Islander, "That is an excellent question, Is."

Yorkie frowned at each team member. "What is so unique about an agate rock?"

Skipper looked down with a smile and typed on the tiny screen, reading out loud the new information on the mobile telephone. "Agate is a semi-precious natural gemstone which is found in regional areas that are subject to massive volcanic activity, especially during the Tertiary Period of planet Earth history. An agate rock was formed when hot water saturated with silica and iron oxide repeatedly filled up each crack and bubble within the rock. An agate rock rates a seven on the Mohs scale of hardness of ten. The hardness prevents fading, cracking, and scratching. Diamond is the highest rate of ten on the Mohs scale. The agate rock is associated with volcanic rock and common in certain metamorphic rocks. The stone was given its name by Theophrastus, a Greek naturalist, who discovered the stone along the shoreline."

Islander read out loud the new information from the mobile telephone. "A mass of rough agate rocks is found in the following countries around the world which include Brazil, China, India, Australia, Kazakhstan, Madagascar, Mexico, Mongolia, Namibia, Uruguay, USA, and almost everywhere. The agate raw rock comes in an array of different shades of color such like, red, green, orange, brown, black, white..."

Fucner stared at the white wall with a puzzled brow. "Why do people hold land hostage? The people can't pay the ransom of land. All the land and the soil and the seas belong to Almighty God. When Brother Jesus comes back, you gotta surrender all the land and the seas back to Him, like He is going to want the shitty smelly landmines, where people dump their piss..."

"Agates..." Yorkie read out loud from the tiny screen of the mobile telephone with the proper assignment in which Fucner was clearly not performing. "A polished agate rock was used as a gemstone by the Egyptians over 3,000 years ago. An agate rock is one of the oldest gemstones in the world as cited in the world history book. In the country of Russia, an agate rock is prized as a stone of riches, good health, and longevity. It is associated with protection and communicating with all things in nature. Since biblical times, the agate stone is a stone of protection and used to protect against thunderstorms. It heals a body fever and quenches the thirst. Here's the clincher, ya'll! It is a popular gemstone in men's jewelry design that provides the tribal look while appealing to the males..."

"There, you go!" Fucner jabbed a finger with a wink at Yorkie. "Brone is starting a new fashion trend here in Alabama and hopes it catches one and then spreads love and peace throughout the world," he looked down with a chuckled and typed on the tiny keyboard, searching for new and more interesting information rather than the agate rock while ditching the current team assignment from Skippy.

Islander continued read out with a smile from the mobile telephone. "Agate is a form of cryptocrystalline quartz. Cryptocrystalline quartz is one of two branches of quartz gemstones. Microcrystalline is the other branch which forms the gemstones of amethyst, citrine, and smoky quartz. It has a hardness of seven on the Mohs scale of ten. It can be identified through its silicon dioxide composition. Most quartz has traced of manganese ions, not iron ions."

Fucner looked down with a smile and pointed at the new information on the tiny screen of the mobile telephone. "This is some awesome learned information here on the internet on the screen of my cell phone. The former geographical site of the two Jewish temples, you know the first Temple of Solomon and the rebuilt Temple of Solomon. It is the same spot, where Brother Jesus tossed these tables of merchandise onto the stone floor, scattering around all the goods, because the folks were selling stuff inside the holy temple like a fucking department store. Well, Brother Jesus said to the Jewish priests that not one stone of the temple would be left standing for their evil act and there ain't, today. Golly! I think people should really listen to Brother Jesus and His red colored words. You know when you write down His words, you are supposed to capitalized the pronoun 'His' for Brother Jesus. Anyways, the Bible history was told in a four city block square. Wow! A most important Bible history lesson back then and present day too: don't piss off Brother Jesus. No way! Period! Naw!" He looked up with a grin to see the different colored hair roots of each team member, who continued to silently search and read on a mobile telephone.

Skipper read out loud on the tiny screen of the mobile telephone. "The Greek agate is tan colored. The Brazilian agate is brown colored. The Mexican agate is golden hue. The US State of Wyoming agate is black colored. The Argentina agate is pink colored. The Botswana agate is gray hue. The fire agate is yellow found in the US State of Tennessee. The US State of Michigan agate is white colored. The US State of Minnesota agate is red colored. The US State of California agate is purple colored. The Chinese agate is orange colored. The Mongolia agate is green colored. The Australia agate is orange colored like the US State of Minnesota. The county of India agate is green colored like the Mongolian. The Madagascar agate is gray..."

Cody stood upright from the chair and danced side to side with a smile to each team member. "The color! It is the color. Don't you see? Don't you hear? I heard the colors of tan, gold, gray, red, yellow, and the others, but not blue," he looked down with a smile and typed on the tiny keyboard, reading out loud on the tiny screen of mobile telephone. "Here's the answer, ya'll. The blue agate has traces of iron ions which ribbon in the color of blood red that is mixed with the blue mineral. The blue agate will boost your ability to communicate, especially the thoughts and feelings that you receive from your higher self or God. It is an excellent emotional healing stone with a set of strong metaphysical properties. No wonder it's rare! God can talk to you. Or you can talk with God. It alleviates anger and nervous tension, bringing you peace of soul and calmness of mind. In the Bible, Almighty God, Brother Jesus, and Saint Peter said to mediate or pray or get closer to God. The blue agate can make got you closer to God, sorta. It is the most powerful healing stone among the rocks within the crust of planet Earth. Blue anhydrite communicates with your angel..."

"Bullshit!" Fucner laughed with a nod and then sipped and swallowed the beverage.

Cody looked up with a smile and a nod to see Fucner, "Right shit!" He looked down with a smile and continued to read out the new information on the tiny screen of the mobile telephone for all eardrums. "Blue gem stones come from all over the world. There is a blue apatite, a blue aragonite, a blue calcite, a blue hemimorphy, but a blue agate is one of the rarest and most of quartz with good hardness and durability. And it is only found here in the river waters of Alabama. Yeehaw!" He looked up with a smile and tossed both hands with the mobile telephone into the air to see each team member.

"Bullshit!" Fucner turned and frowned at Cody, looking down to play on the mobile telephone.

He dropped down both hands and reached over, snatching up the agate rock, posing near a smile. "I will demonstrate to my self-doubting redneck friends like Fucner. Behold! I hold a rough rock of quartz that I had collected during my run-in with the American villain Brone, when he was aiming a gun in my face, by the way. Quartz is a silicon dioxide. It has a hardness of seven on the Mohs scale of ten which makes its both hardy and durable for every day wear and tear by a set of hands or a set of objects. Quartz is the most common mineral on the crusty part of planet Earth at thirteen percent. It is composed of magmatic, metamorphic acid rocks, and sandstone. Quartz is divided into two categories: microcrystalline and cryptocrystalline. Cryptocrystalline is a Greek word, meaning 'hidden' referencing that the crystals are too small to be seen even under a microscope. You are very familiar with many types of cryptocrystalline quartz like this rough agate rock.

"The sardonyx rock is brownish red colored. A chrysoprase rock is a light green colored. A jasper rock is orange colored. A tiger eye gem stone has bronze hues. Microcrystalline means a large crystal to see and hold like a purple tinted amethyst. My medium sized rock is an agate in pretty yellow and red tones, most common in Bama. A quartz rock is a crystal structure which creates in many layers, thus it is designed in layers when the hot water bubbles and then cools the volcanic lava around the dust. A crystal structure is built out of bonded atoms. These atoms lie in a regular repeating dimensional array or plane. Some planes are very strong, but some are very weaker, where there are fewer atomic bonds. It is along the weak plane that I can split or cleave my unearthed rough looking agate rock. Cleavage allows the gem cutter to shape a rough crystal into any desired shape. Now days, a gem cutter uses a gem saw.

"Moses didn't have a gem saw either," He lifted up and pressed the button, showing off the shiny blade near a smile. "So, I will use my handy-dandy switchblade knife, like Moses did. I'll joking, ya'll! Now, if I allow too much pressure of splitting the rock or knock the knife in the wrong direction, then I can split the rock stone in two halves. I take my sharp knife and then rapidly cleave down at a parallel invisible line on the edge of the rock towards the conference room table. Cleavage only occurs in crystalline substances," he sliced the edge of the rock with the blade curving off a few rock fragments, leaving a smooth tiny line on the edge of the rough oval-shaped agate rock and then lifted the chipped rock near a smile. "There, I have a smooth line going from the tip down to bottom on the left side. This is how the 'worker of bronze' cut a rough rock into a smooth stone by smoothing a flat line. Then the flat portion was placed on the back end of the leather breastplate. The art of cutting stones was created by the Romans, as the world history books told.

"The same world history books stated around 800 B.C.; the Phoenician people lived in numerous colonies around the eastern Mediterranean coast which is now the foreign countries of Lebanon and Israel. They traded with the ancient civilizations of Egypt and Mesopotamia and the new city blocks of Greece and Italy. The ancient gem cutters polished each gem stone with a common abrasive and yet the gem stone was hard enough to withstand the hardships of normal daily wear and tear from colliding into the massive limestone pillars and the fighting bronze weapons. Anyways, the quartz rocks were readily available in the soil and then polished up by a gem cutter into a gem stone while commonly utilizing a yellow agate or a red carnelian or a blue lapis lazuli. In eighth century B.C., the Romans added gem stones into the gold workings. The end!"

Fucner exhaled. "Not the end! Why was your teacher lecture boring one, and two, wasting my time, Cody?"

Yorkie shook her curls with a stern face. "I wanna believe you, Cody. The breastplate stones would have been worn out first or lost second or stolen third or whatever fourth by our present time frame here within the twenty first century AD arrived, Cody. Even if, there is some magic or miracle one single stone survived, it would be rubbed down to dust by now."

Cody sat back down with a nod and a smile. "I know that. Brone is collecting the original foundation stones that came from the Temple of King Solomon."

Fucner stood upright and clapped with a smile and a nod. "The teen-ass kid is too good."

"What?" Yorkie dropped open a mouth in shock.

"Holy shit," Skippy parted the lips in shocked brow.

"Ah naw," Islander shook a skull with a puzzled brow.

Cody smiled. "My theory goes like this. In the Book of Ezekiel, Chapter 28 and Verse16, 'the gem stones bedecked the king of Tyre.' So, the worker of bronze came from the destroyed civilization of Tyre which was predicted by prophet Ezekiel. In the Book of Third Kings, Chapter 10, and Verse11, 'King Solomon equipped a fleet of ships coming from his home for sail and then returned upon seas back home with the precious stones.' So, King Solomon came home on the ships with a pile of rough raw rocks. Then, the worker of bronze, whom he had hired away from King Tyre, built the freaking Temple of Solomon which took thirteen long, hard years. The worker of bronze did not see the Bible Ark or would have been blinded or dead, permanently. During one of the many battles, King Solomon was out fighting with his sword, the worker of bronze stole the remnant pieces of the foundation stones at the temple. No electricity for dying. No seeing by the peasants. No problem of stealing.

"The precious stones were remarkable in their color, their brilliant, and their rarity which were held in high esteem by all kings during that Bible time period. The precious gem stones were used in adornment of ceremony of life and death also. The precious gem stones were used in rings, bracelets, collars, and necklaces, the crowns, and garments of kings and priests, too. The gem stones were presented for show and display in the breastplate of Aaron, the Ark of Covenant, and the inside the Temple of Solomon which is located in the city of Jerusalem.

"Okay! That makes at least three sets of the gem stones, so far. The first temple was destroyed in the year 586 by the Babylonians. Then King Darius who did not protect and defend the first temple was exiled. In the Book of Isaiah Chapter 2, Verse 2, 'the re-built Jewish temple would become a place of prayer.' The original temple was one hundred eighty feet long, ninety feet wide, and fifty feet high. The cedar wood came from the forestland of King Hiram in the country of Tyre. The building stones were made with a set of cut stones of hewn as ordered by Almighty God, which was processed by hand chiseling by King Solomon's own people around the clock. The altar foundation was made of uncut stones as told in the Book of Kings, Chapter 18, Verse 30, 'when Elijah rebuilt the altar for God, he used one stone from each of the twelve tribes of Israel.'

"So, good wise King Solomon did the same thing inside the altar room which made it hot, hot, sizzling, where both the Ark and the common bottle of vinegar were placed also. Because, the uncut raw stones represented God's creation of earth, soil, and air which had not been touched by sinful man or mankind or any common worker. The worker of bronze or the man named Brone stole the altar foundation stones which consisted of uncut rocks. The breastplate of Aaron was created as a high-priest garment. The twelve polished and mounted gem stones of the breastplate and the two stones of the shoulder ornaments were considered the most precious of all the stones, representing the twelve tribes of Israel. The two shoulder stones held the twelve names of the Israel, which probably were gold and silver, which could be easily engraved like present day jewelry. These gem stones that had been tarried around for centuries slowly disintegrated among the earth and outer space radiation, until at last, a gem cutter acquired all of them.

"The assumption is a man named Brone. He created a great big egg-sized gem stone with his gem cutting talents. He was probably robbed or had to sell all the gem stones to pay off his financial debt, since a bank didn't loan out money, a long time ago. Think it, ya'll! The Ark of the Convent uses the group of stones to wand a bolt of live electricity to zap their enemies during a war. Stones are physical earth matter that will eventually turn into dust, like us. That's why the Bible Ark quit working. The stones had disintegrated into nothingness. The Bible doesn't say where each original gem stone came from, but there were no gem cutters back then, only a few talented bronze workers. To make the breastplate of Aaron, the lump of rough raw rock was sliced ugly in the back end and then mounted upon the raw and polished leather garment. The people used a fashionable animal leather pouch for drinking water and gulping wine, too. The bejeweled chest breastplate was made from leather for fighting with the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, and all the others while stopping some blood flow but not much. Grrr!

"Anyways, all the gem stones inside the chest breastplate were not electrocuted inside the Bible Ark. The raw stones were ripped off literally during one of the many invasions of King Solomon's temple. Most or all ended in the hands of a gem cutter in the city of Rome within the country of Italy. The world history books tattled to all that the oldest gem cutting was a round cut by the Romans with emerald, rubies, and sapphires, O mine! The Bible clearly states that diamonds were not used in the priestly breastplate, specifically because a diamond was in the far away country Africa, not buried there around the city of Jerusalem.

"A diamond nugget is harvested and then cut by a professional gem cutter. The art of faceting a gemstone wasn't invented until the fifteenth century A.D within the country of India. Now, all the collected gem stones by Brone which duplicates the breastplate of Aaron can be used to activate a re-built duplicated Bible Ark with a promise of death and destruction which is not commanded and totally condoned by Almighty God. So, evil American villain Brone is building a second Ark of the Covenant..."

"O my gawd!" Yorkie stood upright from the chair and dropped open a mouth in shock.

"Fuck it!" Fucner continued to sit and type, staring down at the tiny screen of the mobile telephone.

"Holy shit." Skippy stood upright from the chair and dropped open a mouth in shock also.

"Damn it!" Islander continued to sit and shake a skull at Cody.

"Now, I'm really scared to death of dying young," Fucner continued to stare down at the tiny screen on the mobile telephone with a grin and a laugh.

Skipper shook both hands and a skull. "Kid, your theories are giving me a headache and a heart attack. Do you have some proof here, Cody?"

Cody exhaled with a nod. "Let us start my theory from the beginning using all the known and presented Bible facts. Fact one, the Ark was built by Almighty God on top of a mountain. Fact two..."

Fucner looked up from the mobile telephone and turned with a smile to see the nose profile of Islander. "Are you like the Wizard of Is or something?"

Skippy smiled with a nod at Islander. "He is the opposite of the Wizard of Oz. Right, Is?"

Fucner frowned Islander. "So, did you verify and confirm that the blonde headed scarecrow doesn't have a brain, the Wizard of Is? Right. Wrong. Okay. A big fat 'F' for goes to everyone but me. First off, the builder, who built the Ark, had to touch it. The carriers, who carried the Ark, had to touch it. The stealers, who stole the Ark, had to touch it. If that box of pure gold was touched, then the world would be half of six billion peoples, especially in the countries of Israel, Saudi Arabia, and the entire Middle East. Right? Right! As the golden box was being hauled around like a cow to the slaughter house, the entire Bible folks would have been electrified and dead. Right? Right!"

Islander nodded with a smile. "Yes, the Wizard of Is did verify and confirm the statement of fucking Fucner. There was reported about 70,000 deaths which were directly contributed to the Ark out of about one million. That is a significant number of dead people, to me."

"Me, too. Please continue, Cody," Skippy nodded with a smile.

Fucner frowned at the nose profile of Islander. "Wait! Show me that Bible text right now!"

"Continue, Cody," Yorkie nodded with a smile to Cody.

Cody exhaled with a nod. "Everyone would have wanted to touch a gold smooth shiny object. Hell! The Egyptians slept with their gold nuggets. Boom! They touched the Ark. Dead. The more people touched the Ark, the more people died. Almighty God's plan, not mine, ya'll. If you see the gold box, then I predict about seventy percent of the folks dead..."

Fucner exhaled. "God kills people, not objects."

"What is the Christian point of your story, Fucner?" Islander turned and frowned at Rector.

Fucner smiled with a nod. "My divine point, Almighty God satisfied His personal killing spree with the destruction of the Tower of Babel, the great big worldly Flood, the Sodamn and Gory thingie, and then turned pretty Lot's wife into a salt shaker and then came all the unhappy days in the country of Israel."

Cody exhaled with a nod. "Moses leaves Mount Sinai with the priests, toting the Ark which was clothed in blue cloth and animal skins. Well, the eyeballs of the priests were concealed as they carried the Ark. When the priests marched through the Jordan River, it separated the fresh water, giving a free pathway to cross the river bed and then more earth rocks were collected up by the children or the lowly priestesses or whoever. So let's review, so far! Most of the precious stones are composed of agate rocks which live in the fresh water. Jordan River is a fresh water body of water. The cute kids collected the big rough raw rocks coming out from the muddy sediments and then gave them to their moms and dads for goat pouch storing.

"In the Book of Joshua, Chapter 2, Verse 1, 'Joshua entered the walls of Jericho.' The city of Jericho was destroyed by Joshua who carried the Ark of the Covenant. The present day archeologists dig and dig in the dirt without finding an apple seed of Jericho, because the weapon of mass destruction obliterated all the men, the women, the children, the trees, the flowers, the plants, and the animals. Present day, the archeologists cannot find one broken pottery fragment or a single bronze earring of Jericho, since we are talking about the bronze age of the Bible which was around 1400 B.C. or so. The city of Gilgal exists. Here, it is on my cell..."

Fucner cleared a throat with a smile and pointed down to the mobile telephone. "In the Book of Joshua, Chapter 6, Verse 26, 'Joshua cursed the city like a spell on the rebuilding of Jericho. With it, the firstborn kid would die, if one stone was laid as a foundation piece, and the youngest kid would die, if the gate stone was laid and finished. So I do think sometimes archeologist do too much science, not enough reading inside the Holy Bible, the word of Almighty God. The city of Jericho ain't ever coming back, ya'll."

Cody exhaled with a nod. "The Ark parts the fresh water of Jordan River. Water is the key here like a stream or a river for tracking backwards in time and space to find each stone. This is interesting. It says here that Almighty God dried up the waters of Jordan and the waters of the Red Sea. The land produces the earth minerals that we consume into our mouths and wear on our bodies like a pair of pearl earrings or a sapphire hand ring. I bet all the gems stones came from the river bed of the waters that Almighty God dried up. Every time, Joshua moved around the land, he carried the Ark while drying up the flowing streams and the rivers. The Red Sea is dry and dead. Right? Right! God will continue to dry up the waters for His children to know His powers. Okay. So, the Ark, its gem stones, and its divine power, as they tarried through the dry and hard landscape, continue to dry up each encountered flowing river. So this changes everything, folks. SUSY-Q, shuffle over to a clean new spot on the white painted wall and display a visual map of the country of Israel for me, please!" The robot shuffled to the side and stopped, standing in front of a clean portion of the white painted wall. Her television-like square shaped head blinked with a set of purple and green lines and then display an electronic map of the country of Israel on the wall.

Cody turned and smiled at the new electronic image on the wall. "Jordan River is fed by the melting snow that collects on top of the mountain peak of Mount Hermon and the other mountain ranges. The Jordan River is the most famous river in world history. The river is a vital resource of water among the countries of Israel, Jordan, Syria, Lebanon, where ninety percent of the water flow is diverted for domestic and agricultural use and is heavily polluted by sewage and industrial run-off. Yuck-o! The Jordan River is listed as the top hundred most endangered rivers in the world..."

Fucner laughed. "Because it is treated as a backyard shit tank, where God's children continue to dump shit a turd and drain a set of poisonous radiation and pesticide chemicals down into the precious drinking water and the fertile land soil, un-smart Cody, who is a Christian but doesn't read his Bible lessons at night."

"The only connection this Brone person, place, or thing plus all the groups of wilder zealots has is the dead and buried Governor Ashmore who had brought them into our great State of Alabama for some stupid reason. Thus, the USA authorities can't find as the zealots are responsible for many people deaths and tons of property destruction. Money is the great stupid reason here. All the zealots are totally matched group of religious freaks that want all Americans dead like a door knob," Yorkie nodded with a worried brow.

"We will call them, the Z-men, for the zealots," Fucner laughed.

"What about all the beauty contestant girls, who were killed within the metro cities of Birmingham and Huntsville? Each girl came from a good family while looking for an opportunity of a nice living as a future American. Some were American citizens who were not wealthy either." Islander nodded with a stern face.

Fucner frowned. "Has the pageant billionaire distributed all his money to the dead?"

Islander shook a skull. "No money has been distributed yet, maybe years or decades or centuries from that dead billionaire, since a gang of lawyers are involved."

Yorkie looked down with a stern face and typed on the tiny keyboard, reading out loud the new information for all eardrums from the tiny screen on the mobile telephone. "The priests bore the Ark of the Covenant in the waters of the Jordan River as the tribe of Gad attacked the children of Israel," she looked up with a worried brow to see each team member. "This is amazing! I never saw this before. The Bible Ark is so powerful that it can force water to separate from the land. How dangerous is that to us, if Brone possesses all that great power? The answer is too much for us and the rest of the entire world. Unbelievable!"

Cody nodded with a stern face. "The Bible Ark was safely stored and stowed inside the Temple of Solomon and away from all the good people for that very divine reason. Therefore, the Bible Ark was a historical day war machine with a range of fantastic powers to kill all people and animals and plants and live on planet Earth. There are raw elements of gold, silver, salt, and electricity. Iron and silver is like zinc and silver for a battery to power a modern day flashlight. A high voltage electrical shock is like an electrical fence post on the farm property for each dumb ass cow. A human body sweat produces both water and salt. Salt is a conductor of heat. When a wet sweaty and salty human body touches a rod of pure iron, zap and sizzle of a great big pile of gray ashes appears. Iron and water do not mix, when copper is present. This is called electrochemistry..."

Skippy nodded with a stern face. "What type of elements and what kinds of combination are you referencing in your electrochemistry set, Cody?"

Cody looked down with a stern face and typed on the tiny keyboard, reading out loud the new information for all eardrums from the tiny screen on the mobile telephone. "Zinc is a very popular element which is used today and way back then in Egyptian times. Silver metal only requires heating to be useful. Manganese is a common compound which was used as far back as 300,000 years ago, where it is derived from the mineral of pyrolusite which comes in a beautifully black pigment that is mined in eastern Sinai still today."

Yorkie continued to type and read ou loud information on the mobile telephone. "Hmm! I can only think of potassium hydroxide which is a very strong caustic and not readily present today. Potassium hydroxide is produced by electrolysis of concentrated potassium chloride which is mined from sylvite deposits. You need two alkali materials potash..."

"You're a potash, Cody!" Fucner looked up and jabbed a finger with a smile at Cody.

Cody looked up and turned with a chuckle to see Fucner. "You're a gigantic Golgotha head, Fucner. Eat that one, if you can," he laughed with the others.

"Potash is made of potassium carbonate. Potassium carbonate is an element that was used for 2,000 in the soap making process. That's soap making Egyptian style, ya'll," Yorkie looked up with a smile to see each team member.

Cody nodded with a smile. "Add potash and lime, you get potassium chloride, where the lime is produced by heating limestone. The two elements, potash and lime, together produce ten times more caustic over zinc or silver or manganese constituents which yield one hell of a punch to someone or something."

Skippy gasped. "Wait! Limestone rock is everywhere here in Bama and the other parts of the world."

Cody nodded with a stern face to Skippy. "That's right. Potassium chloride can't be mixed out of common household items. That's the answer here. Brone is trying to do just that here in Bama."

Skipper frowned. "It doesn't make any sense. An array of high energy is solid not gas or a mist, but a killer..."

"The electrodes are usually in the form of a paste, when limestone is heated and then drips down out from your bathroom facet like candle wax. Then all the electrodes gather and accumulate around on the silver plated bathroom drains like at my house," Yorkie nodded with a stern face.

Skippy nodded. "So the external golden box of the Bible Ark would act like a sealed container much like a flashlight battery. What is it going to interact with the potassium chloride mineral or something else? This is half of the chemical puzzle. We are missing something..."

"We are missing someone. His name is Brone Angel or White or something." Fucner nodded with a stern face.

Cody looked down with a stern face and typed on the tiny keyboard, reading out loud the new information for all eardrums from the tiny screen on the mobile telephone. "The Bible Ark is a mysterious energy source capable of lashing out megatons of massive amounts of blinding light and killing energy at your skull and then kill your body dead. Boom! The materials were available during the Bronze Age of 1400 B.C. The Anatolia culture of Turkey was smelting iron as early as 2000 BC on the edge of the Iron Age along with hammered iron in Egypt. So, in Moses' time flash, back time, there are certain words that relate to chemistry and metallurgy, such as, copper, iron, silver, gold, salt, and vinegar. In the Book of Exodus, Chapter 31, Verses1 through 6, 'Moses turned the internal plans of the Ark over to an architect to build the Ark.' He didn't die. Right? Right! Because, all the raw ingredients were not mixed together like in my grandmomma's batch of buttered biscuits.

"In the year 1938, Dr. Wilhelm Kong found a 2,000-year-old pottery jar in the basement of the Baghdad Museum. The pottery jar was built with an iron rod which was surrounded by a copper cylinder. When the jar was filled with vinegar, it produced an electrical charge of energy. Today, this is known as a battery. When an iron rod which is surrounded by copper is submerged down into a jar of vinegar, it produces one volt of electricity. When you have people who are sweating over a heated body and onto a golden box of gold, it creates a battery exhibition. Then you would get a slight jolt of an electrolyte which is based the science of electrochemistry. Using the elements of vinegar, copper, and iron, you can produce a bolt of live shocking electricity.

"Using other combinations of metals paired with the correct electrolytes, you could produce a much better and more powerful high bolt of energy. For example, you could get a high energy source of tremendous voltage which could wallop and kill someone or something. Okay. Based our new theory of modern chemistry, the ancient source for the Ark had used both copper and iron as twin the electrodes. The twin electrodes were immersed down in a tub of pure vinegar which was located on the bottom floor of the Ark itself, since the bottom floor was made of pure gold too. Now, today, a person would need a separator that allows all the electrons to flow freely between the two plates of dissimilar metals which react and then create a better faster flow of electricity.

"For example, Thomas Edison used zinc and copper as twin electrodes to produce his actually bolt of electricity. A flashlight uses zinc and manganese and ammonium as three electrodes. The modern battery for your television remote control uses a combo of zinc and silver oxide to ignite the power. The use of zinc, silver, manganese, or potassium today is light years ahead of Moses. But if you apply the high technology knowledge of today, you can build a rocket ship. Right? Right! Moses did all the work, constructing the physical box of the Ark and then placed the raw metals inside that manufactured box and then created nothing more than a simply chemical reaction. But, in the eyeballs of a slave, it would become magic.

"There are lots of different combos of metals and chemicals when arranged rightly while producing your jolt of volt. For example, iron and copper was used by Moses. Zinc and copper is used by first year chemistry student at Burn U inside the lab classroom to conduct electricity experiments. Zinc and silver was used by Thomas Edison. The zinc and silver is very popular and common in almost all household batteries, including the defense weapons and space satellites. You can argue these particular earth minerals that filling the bottom of the ark would make it very powerful within the two naked eyeballs of twenty-first century man, too."

Islander nodded with a stern face. "This is scary a discussion thread here, ya'll."

"You think this is a scary discussion thread, just wait until you see my internet blog, since I'm taking down notes. I'm recording all the new information." Fucner laughed. "And speaking of shared information, I saw a ball of green light one night, not fake. It came moving sideways, right across a purple-blue skyline with me inside my rolling car. Then, the ball of green light hovered for two or three seconds and then shot off into outer space, and then it was all gone. You know up..."

Islander laughed. "The only ball of green light was your mouth vomit, dropping out from your pouted lips onto the wet grass at Swan Creek in Tanner, Alabama while vomiting inside my rented helicopter during Cody's rescue mission. Tell us all about that alien feeling, too, fucking Fucner!"

Fucner frowned. "Did I ask you for your experience alien encounter, Wizard of Is?"

"The Ark of the Covenant is a living light of energy." Yorkie nodded with a smile at Cody.

Cody smiled. "SUSY-Q, show the Ark of the Covenant with a set of white bolts of lighting, projecting from all the sides of the golden box." SUSY-Q continued to stand in place and as her television-like square shaped head blinked off with the map of Israel and displayed a set of orange and pink lines and then displayed a single electronic image of the Ark of the Covenant that projected streak of white colored lightning bolts on the wall. He smiled. "The Ark of the Covenant can emit a powerful ray of force and a blinding light which cannot be seem by a pair of naked eyeballs, since the person becomes blinded. I do believe that explains the unknown phrase: do not look into the light."

Fucner nodded with a stern face. "The light is very bad."

Skippy spun around with a gasp to see the electronic image, "Golly! The Ark is an instrument of power to create cosmic energy to change matter. A present day nuclear bomb armed with several projecting blinding and deadly laser beams, since an energy wave travels while matter does not."

Fucner smiled. "I am matter. I matter. I am me."

Cody nodded. "The iron rods, a vase of manna which is really a jar of sour vinegar and some stones inside a golden box, all of that would produce a very powerful set of white colored laser beams. Electric condensers are used in the science of electrochemical. And the power source was constantly re-charged due to the stones that acted like a crystal. Yeah. That's it. The stones are the power source. See? When working the stones, it creates an electromagnetic field that separate the land water, so the children could find and gather more rocks which were placed back down into the wooden box, since the old stones were burned into a pile of ashes. In the Bible, the Ark brought peace for two hundred years and was cited more often than any other physical object. Yet, no one can find one sliver of the wood or a gem flake of the stone. Why? First one, it is a priceless golden covered box. Gold has been precious and robbed, since cavemen could beat you with a T-rex shin bone and then stole your loin cloth. Second off, the stones were the harness of all the magical power. Then, a new group of twelve stones were mined from the dried up rivers and then placed down into the inners within the golden box which was surrounded with a set of two iron rods, making some new kinda big bang for planet Earth and all shocked earthlings. The Ark was a chest as described in the Book of Exodus which was made from acacia wood, which is water proof. So, the people could splash around in the water for fun and not ruin the wooden box. The Bible says that the city of Jericho was taken down after the Ark had been paraded around the circular wall for seven days with the sound of seven trumpets using a set of hollow horns from a group of killed rams.

"Rams were used as meat and fur on a human body, if you are interested. The Jericho wall broke down and exposed the entire village by an attack from Joshua. Then, all the men, the women, and the children were killed by Joshua. The translation term: Jericho wall means a dead end which is very similar to the equal expression: a brick wall. The Ark is mentioned numerous times in the Books of Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges, Samuel II, Samuel, Kings, Chronicles, Psalms, and Jeremiah. Then, in the Book of Jeremiah, 'the ark wasn't talked about or used any more per Almighty God.'

"The Ark was a worthless nuclear bomb that suddenly became a biblical artifact. In the New Testament, the Ark was mentioned inside a letter to the Hebrews from Saint John told that the inners inside the Ark which contained Aaron's rod, the jar of food called manna, and all the stone tablets. Rod is an iron work that is coupled with vinegar which is a brilliant piece of modern electron high technology, today."

Islander nodded with a smile. "I find the noise factor of the Ark intriguing. Sound activates lots of earth elements with both pitch and waves. The rod could have been vibrating as all the dead ram horns played the musical tune which interacted with the jar of vinegar that spilled over on top of the stones. Then, you have a chemical reaction of crystals that amplifies a single energy wave length that comes from a pure box of gold. Gold is a conductor of heat and light."

Yorkie gasped. "Good grief! All of this works to perfectly for both ancient Moses and modern day Brone."

Skipper nodded with a stern face. "So, based on all the information, all the covered animal skins on top of the Ark had blocked out the energy charge in your eyeballs and on your hands and on your body parts. The horn of the ram announced the coming arrival of the Ark. So, get the fuck outta the way, ya'll!"

Cody exhaled with a nod. "The Bible says that ark was carried around for forty long years. Why didn't the Bible record more deaths within the God's people who trotted beside the Ark? The answer, the Ark was not activated or lighted or powered up like a computer with its bells, whistles, and lightning bolts. The Bible says the Israelites were punished by Almighty God and then they had to wander around the desert for forty years while looking for the Promised Land. Joshua led the Israelites, while the priests carried the Ark. When the feet of the priests touched the water, the river grew dry and then parted safely for the God's people, because of the chemical reaction within the Ark which safely shielded God's people. The Bible says that the twelve stones were taken out from the Jordan River and then placed as memorial for Almighty God. Yeah, wrong! The stones had been evaporated into a pile of gray ash coming from the radiation powers of the Ark, so the collection of the stones refueled the Ark for Joshua's new battle with more enemies. You have got admit seeing a three-foot cover golden shiny box makes your loin cloth rise and your heartbeat pound for that big greedy possession. Gold is still a valuable commodity, present day.

"The twelve gem stones were the primary power source, activating the iron rod which sung in sweet harmony, before it blasted its blinding rays into a pair of naked human eyeballs. The human voice singing was covered all the hand tooting of each ram horn with a dull bass musical tone. Then, the vinegar spilled over each gem stones, creating one helluva of an energy wave burst near the stupid sucker who was trying to kill Joshua. The wave or waves probably zapped out faster than a flinging pair of angel's wings while looking like a lightning bolt. At the city of Jericho, the sonar boon of music and the creation of the energy wave would have exploded a stone wall within second after the electricity power reached maximum peak. The Bible says that Joshua murdered all the citizens of Jericho. I restate here that the Jericho folks were bleeding and dying from the radiation poisoning coming directly from the lighting of the Ark. So, Joshua eased their suffering, acting in mercy, not murder. Each time Joshua battled, he won victorious as the Bible tells me so," he sung with a chuckle. "Then, Joshua lost his first battle and only defeat to the Philistines while surrendering up the Ark. Bad things happened then, man! The Philistines were smitten with a set of hemorrhoids of the asshole, a plague of mice over the land, and affliction of boils over a body. So the chicken shit Philistines returned the golden Ark back to Joshua. In the pasture cow field of Bethshemite, some fifty thousand people were smitten by God's wrath."

"O boy," Fucner nodded.

Cody nodded. "Because the Ark wasn't clothed by that blue cloth or the animal skins, it emitted radiation waves over and over to each person which caused the boils and the hemorrhoids. Almighty God sent the mice over from the field like he did to Ramses II and the exodus of the Jewish slaves. Repeat!" He chuckled with the others.

Islander looked down with a stern face and typed on the tiny keyboard, reading out loud the new information for all eardrums from the tiny screen on the mobile telephone. "The blue cloth of fabric was a long sleeveless external robe of blue hue which was worn by a royalty that was mixed with purple and scarlet and fine twined linen wrought with needlework. The blue dye was derived from rare type of snails which was worth their weight in gold and only worn by a prince and a high priest. The source of the dye is call tekhelet, the color of the sky and the sea. It is extracted from the snail while still alive. It is a particular snail that has an off-white shell with stripes of brown which produces the unique purplish-blue color. The dye process occurred outside in the bright Mediterranean sunlight, changing the natural purple tint into dark blue."

Fucner looked down with a stern face and typed on the tiny keyboard, reading out loud the new information for all eardrums from the tiny screen on the mobile telephone. "Golgotha is 'a skull' in Greek language, the globular shape of the human cranium. Goatskin was created for foot ware, wallets, and belts. Sheep skins are used as rugs while the two naked people rolled over the floor warm during hot passionate sex acts," laughing.

Yorkie nodded. "A boil is an infection of a hair follicle which is caused from an iron deficient like diabetes. They look like a big red tender spot with white pus which is kinda like a teen zit but bigger. It is a form of bacteria which is known today as Staphylococcus aurues or Staph. People with boils are happy and healthy folks, sometimes with bad personal hygiene. The staph infection is carried by all of you, if you don't wash your hands and bathe once a week with water and soap to prevent a boil. Also, you need to eat a balanced diet of meats, fruits, and vegetables. Don't pick your nose and eat your boogers. Wash your clothes plus eating oranges for the vitamin C will prevent any type of boil. Most likely, these folks didn't follow any or all of these rules which made them susceptible to the Staph. Then, there would not be a theory of people who touched and drooled over a golden box that contained a rusty iron and a bottle of sour vinegar," giggling.

Fucner nodded with a smile, "That explains the plague of mice."

Cody continued to read out loud from the mobile telephone. "Inside the Temple of Solomon, a special inner room was designed to house the Ark. When the priests placed the box in there, it was filled with a puffy cloud," he looked up with a nod to see each team member. "This makes so much sense now. It was the chemical reaction of the bond agents coming from jiggling the vinegar and iron without the music which probably like a glowing ghost that hovered inside the room. Even Solomon couldn't contain the thing, when he married and toted his personal possession to the city of Zion. The Zionians was consecrated, because of the Ark..."

Fucner laughed. "The drunken fools on Zionian pot didn't know to stop mixing the stones and sour vinegar liquid inside with the rusty iron rod like a martini. I bet more people died from air poison rather than gazing at the Ark thing," he laughed with the others.

Cody shook his curls with a smile. "Fucner tells a fucked up story but he is right on target."

"Of course," Fucner slapped a chest with a nod.

Skipper looked down with a smile and typed on the tiny keyboard, reading out loud the new information for all eardrums from the tiny screen on the mobile telephone. "The Bible says that the Ark was kept for twenty years inside the Temple of Solomon. Get this, stupid ass fool! Here is an article on the internet. It says that one of the temple priests tried to kidnap the box but wasn't killed by wise King David, but by another unseen force. The priest probably mixed the stones with the vinegar to keep it from spilling during his proposed escape and then accidentally activated the radiation wave," laughing. "See? This proof of proves of fools that you cannot touch the Ark, without the tooting horns and the rod singing like a church choir."

Yorkie continued to read out loud from the mobile telephone. "The Bible said that King Josiah moved it to another temple, but it was removed by his predecessor King Darius, who lost it to Babylonians. Some of the Jewish kings were not smart."

Cody turned and nodded to each team member. "The Ark of the Covenant is a superconductor with a resonance frequency. This frequency was how God communicated with Moses..."

"A single frequency radio receiver that a higher intelligent being uses to give His orders through," Fucner tossed both hands with the mobile telephone with a laugh. "O. God is the extra-terrorist being that the US Federal Government hunts. Why doesn't someone tell the federal government now? Then, I can retire wealthy after keeping all my damn US income taxes, instead of spending my paid in federal taxes on wars and space satellites to Mars," nodding.

Skippy frowned with annoyance, "O. The wonderment of the stupid human mind viewpoint! Brone will re-build the Ark which will hold a singular awesome power that will be greater than any president or any nation. People will flock to see and then touch and then finally feel the energy of death from a pure golden box with two golden shiny cherubim that face each other with a set of expanded wings just because," he shook a skull with a stern face. "You cannot command the brain-washed fools for the ultimate purpose of death."

Islander nodded with a worried brow. "We must stop Brone."

Skippy nodded with a stern face. "We have to tell someone, an authority figure like a congressman or one of the media folks. Get all this stuff on television, too!"

Yorkie nodded with a stern face. "I'll inform the White House, but I don't know if they'll even believe this or me," she shook her curls.

Cody pointed to the ceiling with a stern face. "If one claims to hold the intact or busted remnants of the Ark, so be it. If one claims to hold the Ark and lights up the chemical reactor using all the gem stones, the jar of sour vinegar, and the iron rod, then they will be dead and not able to tell anyone as a pile of gray ashes of human bones and tissues. The world countries of South Africa, France, and Rome might hold the Ark treasure and maybe are withholding some accidental deaths from the public eye. I would do that also as an authority figure."

"You don't live forever. Or you can't live forever. Which one is more correct?" Fucner nodded with laugh.

Islander frowned. "The wood inside the Ark would be rotten by present day twenty first century. I don't understand how any person can activate all the powerful white colored lightning bolts out from the Ark of the Covenant."

"I agree. "Cody looked down with a stern face and typed on the tiny keyboard, reading out loud the new information for all eardrums from the tiny screen on the mobile telephone. "The acacia wood comes from a thorn bush with sticky sap, green leaves, and rounded pods that contains tannins which has been historically used as a pharmaceutical drug," he looked up with a nod to see each team member. "That makes sense to me, also. The Jewish priests were on drugs while not feeling the effects of the radiated energy rays, when it blasted out from the Ark of the Covenant during each battle. I bet that they just died in their sleep at night and then another young priest took over the deadly job. A medicinal tree is called nilotica and is located near the Nile River. It looks like a plain old light brown trunk of a maple tree. The branches are used for animal feed, tool handles, and lumber for boats. Therefore, the Ark was not located inside a cave, or under the desert sands or near the ocean seas. This is the prime reason that no one can find the thing. The salt water would cause a chemical reaction."

Yorkie nodded. "I agree with Cody's arguments. All in all, Brone's plan sounds like a rather dangerous energy source of chemical, electrical, possibly even nuclear magnitude. The Ark of the Covenant contained Aaron's rod, a jar of manna, and the two copper scrolls as written by God and delivered by Moses. The Ark emitted poisonous gas, caused boils, and disfigured people, who looked into it. It tossed stationary bodies around and shot out bolts of lightning and then stuck all moving bodies. There were specific rules for the Ark. Wrap it in layers of leather and do not store near iron," she laughed with the others. "It was captured when the priests died in battle field from radiation poisoning. The captures returned the Ark, because of all the deaths and God's wrath. Woo! I find the devise quite interesting. Its construction and instructions are similar to a Leyden jar."

"Brone ain't interested in all the gem stones from the tiaras of the Miss Starlit winners. He is searching and seeking the twelve gem stones from the foundation altar." Skipper nodded. "I believe you, Cody. Brone is gathering and accumulating all of the twelve gems stones for his cute leather breastplate too, since he can reach and grab all the same damn stones and then turn them into gem stones almost anywhere in the world. Why come here and try of blow poor the little town of Tanner here in Alabama back into heaven? I don't understand."

Islander nodded with a smile. "I have a wild-ass answer for that question, skipper," he looked down with a stern face and typed on the tiny keyboard, reading out loud the new information for all eardrums from the tiny screen on the mobile telephone. "Agate was the tribal stone of Asher. Agate rock was formed by the deposits of siliceous beds in the hollows of the rock that resulted in a band of blue, red, and yellow colors of a highly polished shine. Agate is supposed to void the toxicity of all poisons and counteract the infection of contagious disease. For example, if it is held in the hand or the mouth, it will alleviate fever. The amethyst stone was the tribal rock of Issachar that prevented intoxication, so the drinking cups were made of amethyst," he looked up with a smile to see each team member. "This makes so much sense. The Bible has all the answers, right here. The color is a brilliant transparent stone of purple color, varying in shades from violet purple to rose. All the Bible stones have healing powers, too. Brone is wearing a vest of Bible stones to keep from getting sick or injured or harmed. I think we should get us a breastplate of gem stones, too, skipper," smiling.

"I agree with that wise idea, Is," Fucner laughed with a smile.

Yorkie lifted up a plastic bag with the single piece of wood near a frown. "How do you explain this petrified piece of wood which was collected in a sealed cavern on a river in Alabama, sir?"

"The Wizard of Is can't. He lied," Fucner laughed.

Islander nodded. "Wood rots. Gold don't. There is petrified wood on every forest edge throughout the world, since the Ice Age of whatever time period on Mother Earth."

Cody exhaled with a nod. "Yeah, I have an explanation. The earth mineral agate grows in water, not the soil. Most of the gem stones are a variety form of agate rocks. In the Bible, the city of Gilgal is the site of the gathering of the stones for the Ark. Gilgal is made of dull orange brown dirt with green grass and tan boulders which is located two miles, northeast, from the destroyed city of Jericho. The Jordan River flows directly into the Dead Sea and nothing flows out. The Dead Sea is eighty-four miles of shoreline for fishing around for something that should not be there. It attracts thousands of visitors, since the time of King David. It was the first health spa for Herod, the Great, since the Dead Sea salt had supplied the embalming agents for all the Egyptian mummifications to potash for the fertilizers..."

"You're a potash, Cody." Fucner laughed.

Islander frowned. "Shut it, Fucner."

Cody nodded. "The salt minerals are used to create both facial makeup cosmetics and herbal sachets. Let us suppose here that a visitor had accidentally picked up a salt bed with the hidden stones, without knowing it."

Fucner laughed. "That's so potash."

Cody said. "The Jordan River flows down to the Banias River, the Dan River, the Yarmouk River, the Zarqa River, and then it travels one hundred fifty-six miles to the north and then to the south. John the Baptist was baptized there also. The river drops down into the swampy Lake Hula, the Sea of Galilee, and then the Dead Sea. Archaeologists have never found any hard evidence that the promised land of Canaan ever existed and the conquest of Canaan never happened. And the twelve gem stones have never been found, either. However, the Bible states that the Ark was carried through the waters of Jordan River and then the waters were separated..."

"Then, the Ark was carried around the walls of Jericho for seven days. Then the walls came tumbling down...tumbling down..." Fucner sung with a laugh. "Then, the Ark was lost in the battle with the Philistines. No wonder God is mad at us...them for losing the ancient battle. But we can still win the war on drugs; the war on drug lords; the war with the zealots. Does that sound right, ya'll?" He chuckled.

"Shut it, Fucner!" Skippy frowned.

Fucner looked down with a stern face and typed on the tiny keyboard, reading out loud the new information for all eardrums from the tiny screen on the mobile telephone for shitty fun of the boring meeting. "The Philistines carted the Ark to the city of Bethsames, where they died, and then ended up in the city of Cariathiarum...or chrysanthemum...or the home of the chrysanthemum," he looked up with a smile to see each team member. "I like the flower chrysanthemums. The flowers are big and round like a girl's tit," chuckling.

Cody exhaled with a nod. "Most of the Bible stones are agate rocks which come exclusively from the water. So, the Israelites took them from the waters to fuel the Ark and then tossed them back into the waters. The baby agate beds became deeply buried within the fertile soils which were never to be found again. Over the last 2,600 years, these same agate rocks have migrated by fresh water or a pair of naked feet into the other countries like Africa, India, Egypt, Australia, and Alabama. Agate rocks are Bama's treasure of gold inside each streams, valleys, and mountain sides."

Yorkie smiled. "Wow. What a story?"

"A fairy tale," Skippy frowned.

"A farting tale," Fucner typed with a chuckle on the tiny keyboard a text message to a new sexy girl from last night at the hotel room.

SUSY-Q stood in place in front of the wall and as her voice droned in a female alto. "And Amber..."

Islander looked up with a puzzled brow to see the blue dress on the rear of the robot. "Who's Amber? Did she survive the bomb explosion from the Miss Starlit disaster, SUSY-Q?"

"That would have been an Almighty God act too, since that building still is smoking in fluffy colored rock dust straight up into the clouds," Fucner nodded.

SUSY-Q stood in place and as her voice droned in a female alto. "Captain Skippy inquired from my data banks the request. Compare the gem stones from the Starlit Pageant tiaras to all known earth minerals and then identify the missing gem stones! Amber is an additional gem stone which is missing from the tiara list."

Fucner slapped a forehead with a smile. "Of course, the stone amber is part of the twelve stones, too."

Cody frowned. "Naw, it's not."

Fucner smiled. "Yeah, amber comes from a fossilized wood like inside the lining of the wooden Ark..."

Yorkie smiled. "Actually, amber comes from petrified resin inside the trunk of the tree, not like the inside lining of the Ark. But, it is a true gem stone which is worn as a piece of jewelry on both the ancient and modern day humans. I wonder why it wasn't decorated as a tiara."

Islander frowned. "We have been played. This is entire terrorist hunt or investigation is a ruse that leads into another ruse, which leads into another ruse. Brone is slick. What is his real motive here with us and the United States of America?"

"Forget his motive? When is he lighting up all the fireworks inside his duplicate Ark machine? I wanna know that day and time please, so I can hide inside my bedroom with my cell phone and my girl," chuckled Fucner.

Skippy slapped the hard surface of the table with a smile. "It is close to four pm. So, I am calling it a very good work day at the office. Each one of you has done an excellent job here. And each one of you will receive a great big money bonus too," chuckling, "We have uncovered Brone's evil and weird-ass world plan. So, we will meet tomorrow morning at eight o'clock and figure out how to stop Brone from blasting every earthling into a pile of gray ash," he stood upright from the chair with a nod to each team member. Yorkie continued to sit. Cody, Islander, and Fucner swiftly stood upright with a nod and turned, exiting the room to the hotel. Yorkie slowly stood upright with a smile at Skippy. Skippy turned and smiled at the television head of the robot. "SUSY-Q, go and monitor the building for an intruder and then beat the individual to death.

The robotic television-like head went black with color. The wall returned back into white hue. The robot droned in a female timber, "Yes, Mr. Skippy!" SUSY-Q back stepped from the wall and spun around, moving ahead through the archway, turning to monitor each hallway with a set of yellow and purple colors that hit the wall and the ceiling.

Yorkie stared at the empty archway and then Skippy. "Why didn't SUSY-Q protect you from Brone that night when he killed Alvin in cold blood?"

He exhaled. "I had ordered SUSY-Q to stay put inside her storage closet like a fool thinking that I could handle a tiny girl-man who was named Alvin-Dorothy."

She smiled. "Awe! Your manhood ego got busted. Well, I can make it better."

He smiled. "That's why I assigned you to my task force."

Yorkie moved ahead and hugged his waist, pulling back with a sour frown. "I am not a task force. I am a woman. Are you going to marry me or not? I can't wait forever."

He leaned over and hugged her with a smile. "Yes, we will get married right after we find and jail Brone. Does that make you happy, my future wife?"

Yorkie hugged him with a smile. "Yes, I am very happy now, my future husband."
Sunday August 8th

08:08 am

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Unnamed white painted building

211 Clinton Avenue location

Conference room thirteen interior setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Fucner appeared and stood inside the open door archway with a grin at the blonde hair roots of the teen-ass. "Morning, Cody! You are up mighty early on at the beginning of work day. Skipper said to be here at eight, not seven" he entered through the archway and turned to the side wall, stopping and stood at the end of the food table, reaching down for a plate. He filled the plate of food and prepared a cup of hot coffee, slowly swinging around and moved to the same spot at the conference table, resting the plate of food on the hard surface, sipping and swallowing the coffee.

Cody had come into work very early at seven o'clock and bumped into SUSY-Q, who was monitoring the empty hallway. Then Cody stored an electronic image from the mobile telephone into the database of the robot and then placed an order for a table of food and beverages for the entire team. He continued to sit at the table and stared down at the words of the Bible in front of a chest that came from a tall stack of old textbooks with a worried brow. "I can't. I hunted and haunted by Brone's words. I can't get them out of my head."

Fucner reached over and lifted up the top book, flipping the pages, scanning the unfamiliar content with a stern face. "Brone has threatened the United States of America, including you, kid. Live with it! Are we going deer hunting? I see your ugly art work has been stolen from what US Government agency," he lowered the book back down over the stack of books and scooted to back down into the chair, placing the coffee on top of the table, reaching out for the fork and stabbed the food, chewing with a grin. Skippy entered into the room next and turned, heading towards the food table with a smile in silence.

SUSY-Q entered into the room and toted a new tray of food. The robot wore a pink colored halter top and a matching pair of long running shorts with the correct measurement for her girly metal body measurement of a thirty-six inched breast size, a twenty-four inched waistline, and a thirty-eight inched hip size. The robot turned and moved to the side wall, stopping and placed the new tray on top of the food table, back stepping from the food table, side stepping to the empty part of the wall and spun around, standing in the wall corner for the next command from one of the team members in silence. Her television-like head showed an array of pink and red lines that secretly recorded all the vocal words and the physical actions of each team member in disguise too.

Cody stared down at the words inside the textbook with a puzzled brow. "Brone said to me while I was on the wet grass at Swan Creek in the small town of Tanner. You are not the seventh son, being born on the seventh day, of the seventh month," he looked up and turned to see Fucner. "How did Brone know that accurate information? I am truly born on July seventh..."

"Look, Cody!" Fucner chewed and swallowed the food with a nod. "It matched his poor language skills which were coupled with the lowest IQ on record. Everyone knows the stupid saying, especially here in the South. The seventh son of the seventh son born on the seventh hour, of the seventh day, of the seventh month is supernaturally handsome, smart, and gifted with something. It is part of the Bible, too."

Cody shook his curls. "However, that is not a true Bible reference. In the Book of First Chronicles, Chapter 2, Verse15, 'David was the seventh son of Jesse.' As a young boy, David defeated the mean giant Goliath and then became king. He was a very important figure in the Judaism, Islam, and Christianity cultures, but he didn't possess any healing powers or superstition powers. As a matter of fact, his ring held the supernatural powers..."

"We know that and don't wanna go there, not right now. What else are we hunting for which will ease your haunting, Cody?" Fucner stabbed the food and chewed.

Skippy prepared a plate of food and swung around, scooting around the chairs, sitting the food plate and his ass back down at the same spot on the opposite end of the conference table, so he could see and interact with each team member. He stabbed the food and chewed, listening to the conversation with worry about the seventeen-year-old Cody.

Islander heard the outside conversation down the hallway as he appeared and entered the room, moving ahead to the food table, preparing a plate of food with a smile. "There are a number of references to the numeric seven in the Holy Bible. There are seven heavens in the Islamic tradition. There are seven earths in Islamic tradition. There are the seven deadly sins. There are the seven sacraments in the Roman Catholic faith. There are the seven heads of that scary ass beast in the Book of Revelation..."

Fucner chewed and swallowed the food, reaching over and typed on the tiny keyboard, reading out loud the new information on the mobile telephone. "In the Book of Deuteronomy, Chapter 7 and Verse1, 'there are seven nations that God had squashed for His children of Israel who had lived in paradise both peaceful and freely. God cast out the many nations including the Hittite, the Amorite, the Girgashite, the Canaanite, the Perizzite, the Hivite, and the Jebusite.' Why do all ancient cultures end in the same prefix 'ite'? O. I see it now. O. I understand it completely. This is the longer version of the American word, shit, without the 'e.' I get it all now. It says easier and spells quicker without the shitty 'e'. Get it, guys! The Hittie is shitte. Bang! It's gone to hell. The Amorite is shitte too. Boom! It's gone to hell too. The Canaanite is shitte also. Bam! It's gone to hell also," he laughed alone.

He chewed and then swallowed the food with a frown. "Thanks for the useless information, Fucner!" Skippy stabbed the food and chewed.

Islander slowly spun around with the plate of food from the side wall and slowly moved ahead to the same chair between Rector and Cody at the conference table with a laugh, sitting down and stabbed the food with a fork. "We get it, Fucner," he chewed the food.

Fucner reached over and rested the mobile telephone beside an arm, grabbing and stabbed the fork down into the food with a smile. "Good! I've earned my pay for the day. And I make a rhyme like a dime. Now, can I go outside and play for the day, skipper?" He ate the food with a grin.

He chewed and swallowed the food with a sour frown "Stay put and down and help Cody for the day!" Skippy stabbed the food and chewed.

Cody looked up from the book and stared with a worried brow at the far white painted wall without a piece of art work. "Brone said to me that day. You are not the seventh son who was born on the seventh day, of the seventh month, for you and your people with drench and drown in blood for your crimes of evil. Your men and your appliances of war cannot contend with my victory. Fear me, my brethren, in the foggy fight, because its waves are strong. Its dangers are perilous. Its beast is terrible. Its winds are tempest. Brone is referencing the pronoun 'its' as the Ark of the Convent, since he possesses ninety percent of the gem stones," he reached over and snatched up the agate stone, twirling around the fingers with a worried brow. "Except for this particular blue colored agate rock, we retrieved out from the river water at Swan Lake in small town of Tanner. But, there is another natural mineral that he is lacking to complete the construction of a new duplicate Bible Ark. During the time of Moses, the inner wooden crate was made of acacia wood."

Skippy chewed and swallowed the food with a frown. "The acacia wood is also called the famed tree of life..."

"Tree of death," Fucner nodded with a stern face and stabbed the fork into more food.

Islander shook a skull. "There is no such object as a tree of death. I believe you are referencing the angel of death, Fucner."

Fucner swallowed the food and turned with a wink to see Islander. "Is she pretty?"

"Pretty awesome at the foot of your death bed, when she is needed," Islander looked up and turned to wink at Skippy.

Fucner frowned. "That sucks!"

Cody continued to twirl the agate rock between the hands and exhaled with a nod at the far wall. "Okay. The tree of life is different from the tree of knowledge of good and evil. In the Book of Genesis, Chapter 3, Verse 22, 'Adam and Eve ate the apple from the tree of knowledge and then they were cast out of the Garden of Eden."

He chewed and swallowed the food with a sour frown. "Yeah, they originated and started the first Holy War with Almighty God. They should be here and fight off all the fucking zealots, not me," Fucner stabbed the fork into the food and ate, chewing.

Islander chewed and swallowed the food with a grin. "You know that might be one of the smartest statements that you have ever uttered, since my introduction to your sorry ass, Fucner," he stabbed the fork down into the food and ate, chewing with a grin.

Fucner chewed and swallowed the food with a sour frown, exposing a grin with a set of chewed food particles between the teeth. "Thanks, Wizard of Is!"

Cody reached over and placed the agate rock back down on the table, looking down with a stern face and read out loud from the Bible. "In the Holy Bible, to prevent any one person from finding the tree of knowledge of good and evil ever again, God placed a set of two angels with a flaming sword that guards the garden entrance, says the Book of Genesis, Chapter 3, Verse 24."

Fucner chewed and swallowed the food with a nod. "I never wanna be on an archeological expedition looking for an inflamed and angry heavenly angel. Naw! Not me! No way!" He stabbed the food and ate, chewing with a nod.

Cody looked up with a stern face to see each team member. "I found out last night during my reading marathon that the acacia tree is really a symbol of life. The tree is a vast expansion of thorny limbs, where animals feed from its green soft leaves and cool underneath a shade hardy overstory branches. I spent all last night, sorting through the internet and then found this specific piece of art work. SUSY-Q, please project my electronic image onto the white part of the wall from that wall corner."

Her television-like head went black and then displayed an array of vertical orange and red colors, shooting off from the screen and showed a new electronic image on the white paint and as her voice droned in a female timber. "Your electronic image has been displayed upon the wall, Mr. Cody."

Cody pointed at new electronic image on the wall. "That pic on the wall comes from an ancient piece of art work of the Meso-american culture which is located in the country of Mexico. The real art work is chiseled stone from about 300 B.C. and weighs about one and a half tons. It is housed in the Smithsonian building in Washington D.C. My other interest, it is nicknamed, the tree of life. What do you see on the wall inside the art work?"

Fucner reached up and wiped off the mouth with a laugh at the new electronic image on the walls. "Could one of these really funny figures be a redneck from here in Bama?"

Islander sipped and swallowed the beverage with a smile at the new electronic image on the white wall paint, "Naw. Not one figure is toting a shotgun in a shooting hand, my Bama redneck friend."

Skippy spun around in the chair and stared at the new electronic image on the wall with a huff. "I see a parrot, an elephant, a monkey, a snake, a fish."

Islander nodded. "I see a sky of clouds on top of the stone. I see a body of water on the bottom of the stone."

Fucner smiled at the image. "There is a boy who is sucking out something from the sap of the tree. This is the first fucking ancient freak creep show. I'm doubly impressed."

Islander nodded. "I see an Egyptian pharaoh, an Indian prince, an African hunter, maybe..."

"What is that thing fucking on that tree? I see the devil man, an astronaut, and in the damn middle of the picture is a great big colorless tree. Are we done here? Great! Can I leave for the day and spend all my money before Uncle Sam gets it?" Fucner nodded with a smile and placed both dirty utensils inside the dirty plate like his mama had taught him.

Cody nodded at the image on the wall. "I see a big tree which is really known as the tree of life. I'm trying to identify the particular tree."

Islander nodded at the image on the wall. "Clearly, it is not a palm tree. Mexico is native to palm trees, since it thrives in a tropic climate. The Meso-American artist would have known what a palm tree is and how to draw one which is tall and skinny with no branches or tiny tree leaves. Therefore, he drew a tall shade with hundreds of extended tree branches and thousands of tiny leaves for a very specific purpose. Could it be an oak tree? Oak trees grow big and tall..."

"Like my dick," laughed Fucner.

Islander nodded at the wall image. "Could all the clouds be a representation of heaven? Could the water be a symbol of hell?"

Fucner nodded with a smile. "Good observation, Wizard of Is! Is solved it. Now, they all died. Can I go on vacation for about two weeks and spend a lot of my money before Uncle Sam robs me? I met this beautiful chick last night at the bar downstairs in our hotel. Then we..."

"Does the tree of life really represent a life?" Skippy frowned at the wall image. "What do we do in life?"

Islander smiled at the wall image. "I see fruit. So, we do eat. I see clouds. So, we do dream. I see water..."

"So, we do piss," Fucner stood upright from the chair with a loud burp and grin. "Be back in three point six minutes from the boys' clean toilet room. And we should go and find and ask Brone. I bet he knows all about this damn tree of life and death and knowledge of killing people," he back stepped from the table and turned to face the archway, moving out the room, into the dark hallway, and finally towards the bathroom.

Cody nodded at the wall image. "I see the same curved images of animals, objects, nature, and humans. Therefore, I conclude that this is a representation of every culture on planet Earth during 300 B.C. A monkey comes from the country of Asia. An elephant comes from the country of Africa. A parrot comes for the country of South America. A snake..."

"Snakes are part of North America too." Skippy smiled at the wall image. "The native American Indians lived and played here during 300 BC, too."

Islander nodded. "I agree with Cody. This stone represents the current life forms in the year 300 BC. Why place it on a stone, where no one will see? At half a ton weight, no one will steal it from the artist either."

Cody nodded. "I believe that the ancient stone is a map of the tree of life which is located somewhere here on planet Earth. The Bible states both the tree of knowledge and the tree of life are here on the planet. The tree of knowledge was robbed by Adam and Eve. Then, it is off limits for all mankind. The tree of life was used inside the Ark of the Covenant which lined the entire inners of the wooden crate. Therefore, one or another one must exist somewhere on Earth, maybe not guarded either. I do believe Brone is counting on that notion also."

Fucner returned back into the room and moved ahead, sitting back down into the same chair with a smile. "I got a great idea. We can produce a lightning bolt from the deadly chemical mixture like the Ark thingie and then let the bolt find the damn tree for us. Then, I will be done with the new assignment. I can leave and go spend my money this afternoon on that hot and sexy girl."

Skippy spun around from the wall inside the chair and reached over, snatching up the mobile telephone into a smile. "I have a new homework assignment, children. Grab your cell and get stared!"

Fucner looked down with a sour frown at the black colored hair roots of Skippy. "I wanna a monitor, so I can pretend to work but sleep. I was up until two while f..."

"Found it!" Islander looked down with a smile and read out loud the new information on the tiny screen from mobile telephone for all eardrums. "The ancient Aztec civilization had a tree of life. It is called the Tule tree in the country of Mexico."

Fucner slapped both arms onto the hard surface of the table with a sour frown, staring at the different colored hair roots of each team member, who worked on the mobile telephone for the new assignment. "The answer is obvious. The giant Sequoia tree in the US State of California is the biggest, tallest, and friendly tree in the world. The end!"

Skippy looked down with a stern face and read out loud the new information on the tiny screen from mobile telephone for all eardrums. "You are not right and not working on your cell phone, Fucner! The country of Bahrain which is located in the Persian Gulf has a tree of life too."

Fucner exhaled with a huff of frustration and reached over, snatching the mobile telephone, typing on the tiny keyboard for fun information which is not related to the assignment, and reading out loud with a laugh from the tiny screen. "The US State of Utah has a tree of life which is made of salt."

Cody read out loud the new information from the tiny screen on the mobile telephone for all eardrums. "The ancient Zoroastrians had a tree of life also."

Fucner read out loud the new information from the tiny screen on the mobile telephone for all eardrums with a laugh. "The modern Rastafarians has a tree of life. It is a cannabis plant or pot or Mary Jane or marijuana weed," he looked up with a smile to see the black colored hair roots of Skippy. "Can we go and visit them this afternoon in our new fancy rental private business jet while we look like a group of fake billionaires which is funded by the taxpayers, please? I vote for hell yeah," laughing.

Islander read out loud the new information from the tiny screen on the mobile telephone for all eardrums. "The country of the Philippines along with the Caribbean islands considers the coconut tree as the tree of life. The coconut tree provides food, shelter, and various implements."

Fucner turned and chuckled at the hair roots of Islander. "What are the various implements with a coconut? It has a hard shell. Right? Right! I haven't thought of using a coconut for my personal usage either."

Islander read out loud the new information from the tiny screen on the mobile telephone for all eardrums. "The country of Sweden has a tree of life too."

Fucner laughed with a smile. "Disney World has the tree of life also. I vote that we fly over on our new fancy rental private business jet down to the city of Orlando for the afternoon and check out that tree of life."

Skippy read out loud the new information from the tiny screen on the mobile telephone for all eardrums. "The country of Egypt has a tree of life also."

Fucner tossed both hands with the mobile telephone into the air with a smile. "Ancient Persia, ancient Egypt, ancient China, and every other fucking ancient plus every present day country on entire planet of Earth has a tree of life. How is that humanly possible for every nation to claim the tree of life? O wait, ya'll! Every fucking nation on planet Earth also claims to possess the Ark of the Covenant too. Okay! That's makes perfect sense. You got an Ark. You got the wood too. However, we have proven that the wood disintegrated down into nothing and then was given as a gift to a scorned woman. You know what the Bible says about a woman scorn," laughing.

Cody read out loud the new information from the tiny screen on the mobile telephone for all eardrums. "The country of Kenya has a tree of life, also."

Skipper read out loud the new information from the tiny screen on the mobile telephone for all eardrums. "The country of Africa has a tree of life, too."

Islander read out loud the new information from the tiny screen on the mobile telephone for all eardrums. "In North America, the cedar is the tree of life. According to myth, the tree is found in heaven, where the first human lived, until a pregnant woman fell down and landed in an endless sea. Drowning in the sea, a giant turtle saved her ass and then she formed the world on the back shell of the giant turtle by planting the bark which was taken from the tree of life."

"Man! That's the biggest truck load of horse shit, I have ever heard between my clogged ear wax," Fucner reached over and grabbed the mobile telephone, typing on the tiny keyboard. "And if it be true the woman stole the bark off the heavenly tree, then I hope that she is an angel now, because God doesn't forget when you break one of his commandments," he chuckled with the others.

Skippy looked up with a smile to see the different colored hair roots of each team member. "You know that the black belt fertile land soil in Bama underneath the limestone base is littered with a patch of cedar trees. They make good Christmas trees. They are fairly dense foliage and smell like spicy woodsy...

Fucner looked up with a smile and a wink to see Skippy. "Are we sharing some of our girly-ass feelings that we don't wanna share with the boys, skipper?"

Skippy laughed. "Naw. I remember my old home roots in the country. My dad and I would chop down our Christmas tree out from the natural woodlands which surrounded the cotton fields. My dad drove the old pickup truck down a tractor dirt path, until he hit the crop line. Then we got out of the truck and trucked on a pair of cowboy boots into the woods. There woodlands housed and take care of coyotes, deer, foxes, squirrel, and some wolf. The best ones were located behind the thicket of the woods that stood tall and alone for the Christmas taking event to celebrate the birth of Brother Jesus. We also would find one near the water creek that stood out all alone within the sunshine, like she was cold and needing the warm sun. My dad wanded the heavy ax with a thick pair leather gloves and a pair of riding chaps as I waited off to the side, not getting smashed by the weight of the tall cider tree. As I got more lean muscle, my dad made me whack down the tree down, working my strength. We dragged and drugged that dang long and tall cider tree over the rough terrain and the thick plant brush and then back into the bed of the truck. The branches of cedar needles scratch and itch on your bare skin more than other woodland trees. The black sap sticks and stains to your external skin too. I smelled like spicy woodsy for days, until that black dissipated from my arms, where my shirt was torn and patched. Boys were rough and touch back then."

Islander looked up with a smile and a nod to see Skippy. "Thanks for your story, skipper," he looked down and read out loud the new information from the tiny screen on the mobile telephone for all eardrums. "Cedar trees are very plentiful in the northeast United States and southeast Canada. The Great Lakes region and into Québec, Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine, Prince Edward Island, New Brunswick, and Nova Scotia, south in Massachusetts, Connecticut, Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia, and West Virginia..."

Skippy looked down and read out loud the new information from the tiny screen on the mobile telephone for all eardrums. "The cedar possesses a set of scale-like needles that overlaps in blue-green color which forms an array of fan-shaped sprays. The bark is gray to red-brown color and fibrous. On the larger trees, the bark becomes ash-gray hues which are shallowly grooved and then twisted around the tree. The cone is a round-shape, purple hue, and fleshy with a set of scales. The form is one hundred fifteen feet high and five feet in diameter. It is found in water bogs with little or no shading from the overstory branches of other tall or taller trees. The cider wood is used for ground fencing, roof shingles, and sailing boats."

Cody looked up with a smile to see each team member. "Wow. Almighty God picked the right wood for the Ark."

"Dang! Our Christmas tree wasn't ever hundred feet tall in height," Skippy looked up with a smile to see the team members.

Fucner tossed a hand into the air and read out loud the new information with a laugh on the tiny screen from the mobile telephone for all eardrums. "The tree of life is the Grandmother Cedar or Ass shit on be me win..."

Islander leaned over with a smile into the mobile telephone of Fucner, reading out loud the correct word. "Anishinaabemowin was a native North American cedar, in which all the Native American Indians had protected and worshipped for centuries."

"I have thought of a North American cider tree and a tribe of American Indians." Cody frowned. "Moses built the Ark at the foot of Mount Sinai."

Fucner turned and winked at teen-ass. "Because, Almighty God can do any fucking thing He wants. Didn't you learn that in your Sunday school class, Cody?"

Cody laughed with a nod, "Apparently, not in that content!"

Islander smiled. "There is a thirty-nine-foot cedar tree in Bullock County of Bama. They need a crane to hoist the tree in an upright position which is anchored with all type of towing cables."

Skipper looked down with a smile and typed on the tiny keyboard, reading out loud the new information on the tiny screen from the mobile telephone for all eardrums. "Alabama governor Thomas Jones toured the Virginia battlefields of the Civil War in the year 1893 and then brought back home to Bama a live red cedar tree. The tree had been planted in the US State of Virginia, since in the year 1860, making that tree thirty years old..."

"That cider tree is young to match that piece of stone art work on the wall," Fucner exhaled with a huff of annoyance, since he was not getting out the room and the assignment until that tree was found by the team. He looked down with a smile and typed on the tiny keyboard for new information on the mobile telephone.

Cody smiled. "There is a tree farm in the city of Trafford here within Alabama with a patch of red cedars. We should visit there and look for an ancient Grandmother Cedar."

Fucner looked down with a smile and read out loud the new information on the tiny screen from the mobile telephone for all eardrums. "There is a set of unique tree carvings of cedar trees in the city of Montevallo here in Bama," he looked up with a smile to each team member. "We should drop by there and read all the visual messages from Mother Nature. She would definitely know where her oldest daughter is located," laughing.

Skipper continued to look down and type on the tiny keyboard, reading out loud the new information on the tiny screen from the mobile telephone for all eardrums. "I found a gray barked cedar tree that stands fifty-four feet high."

Cody looked up with a puzzled brow to see the hair roots of Skippy. "I didn't know there were gray cedar trees too. So, there's red and gray..."

"...and yellow cedar trees," Islander continued to look down and read out loud the new information on the tiny screen from the mobile telephone for all eardrums. "There is a yellow cedar too. A yellow cedar tree is a long-lived species which is both tall and wide. It has a broad, grooved trunk that spreads out wide at the base, except all the yellow cedar trees are dying or almost dead due to some type of root rot..."

"Due to man's rooting and tooting interference with Mother Nature, I do believe," Fucner continued to look down and type on the tiny keyboard for new information on the mobile telephone.

Cody continued to look down and read out loud the new information on the tiny screen from the mobile telephone for all eardrums. "Cedars are born in a wet forest particularly abundant in coniferous swamps where a set of regular trees cannot thrive. Cedars are long-lived trees notably one of the oldest specimens growing on limestone cliffs. Deer and other wildlife feed off the flowers and cones and needles. The oldest known living specimen is over 1,100 years old. Scientists have discovered a dead cedar specimen with 1,650 growth rings."

Islander continued to look down and read out loud the new information on the tiny screen from the mobile telephone for all eardrums. "The US State of Minnesota has a tree of life too. It was found by a French explorer in the year 1731 and it is still alive today."

Cody looked up with a smile to each team member. "Well, that is a very good sign. The acacia tree is still alive today as well as in the past history of the planet."

Islander leaned over with a smile into the cheekbone of Fucner. "What are you reading?"

Fucner continued to look down and read out loud the new information on the tiny screen from the mobile telephone for all eardrums. "There is an ancient forest of giant trees right here in Bama. Based on some snobby geologist, the tree forest was created some 14,000 years ago during the last glacial maximum thingie and due to the sediments of a river. Get this! The story goes. A hunter found the tree forest after chasing down a white-tail doe then getting lost inside a patch of deep woods. Figures! The ancient forest was mostly stumps of five feet in diameter and overgrown peat bogs. First, he wrapped both his arms around the stump and couldn't touch the tips of his middle fingers. Second, he climbed on top to see the other fallen trees, where he could see all the other tall trees that covered the clouds and miles of red clay dirt."

Islander sat upright and looked down with a stern face, typing on the keyboard of the mobile telephone. "Where is the ancient forest in Bama located at, Fucner?" Fucner leaned over with a smile and showed the tiny screen of the mobile telephone with the new information.

Cody nodded with a smile to each team member. "Trees do deteriorate over time. However, if the hunter saw a 2,000-year-old tree stump, then this is a true sign from Almighty God."

Fucner continued to silently read the new information on the mobile telephone with a sour frown. "Bull frog crap, Cody! It is a tract of virgin woodlands, where no man has trashed for toilet paper and student notebook paper for these cheap-ass mystery novels which can be purchased on the internet for ninety-nine cents."

Skipper looked down and typed on the tiny keyboard, finding the same blog, reading out loud the new information on the tiny screen from the mobile telephone for all eardrums. "The geologist team restructured the ancient landscape based on the sediment cores and the soil depths. There was a river that ran beside the soil landscape. Then, the flowing river dried up and left a big swamp, where the drifting seedlings took root, creating a forest of yellow cedar trees. This is it. I feel it too. We are talking about a patch of ancient trees so old that they have changed over centuries into..."

"The ancient trees would change and become rotten down to the core with worms, acid rain, air pollution, insects, lumberjacks," Fucner nodded with a sour frown. Silence invaded the conference and as each pair of eyeballs stared at each other and turned to see Skippy.

Skippy stood upright from the chair and continued to read out loud on the tiny screen of the mobile telephone. "This is the place. We are going to the town of Tensaw here in Bama which is located on State Road 59 to the north and County Road 80 to the west," he looked up with a smile to see the stunned face of each team member. "Does the name of Tensaw sound familiar to your pair of eardrums even with the ear wax? It should. If you did your Alabama History homework in the ninth grade like I did? The town of Tensaw was the site of Fort Mims, where five hundred pioneer settlers were attacked and killed by a tribe of American Indians. So first, we go shopping for some swamp gear, including a bag of gator bait, before we attack the fancy rental business jet plane and travel from here in Birmingham to the seaside city of Mobile. Then, we will hunt down and find Grandmother Cedar, the American tree of life."

Cody and Islander stood upright with a smile and a nod back to Skippy, back stepping and spun around to face the open archway, leading out the conference room and into the semi-dark hallway. Skippy back stepped from the table and spun around with a smile to face the open archway. "SUSY-Q, go into observation mode and monitor the building, please. Get moving, Fucner!" He exited the room and followed behind Cody and Islander.

The television-like head went black and then displayed a set of gray and yellow vertical lines, scanning the walls and the ceiling in silence and as the robot moved ahead and turned to face the open archway, strolling through the semi-dark hallways in silence.

At the conference table, Fucner continued to sit with a sour frown and typed on the tiny keyboard with a new text message to the hot sexy girl some type of sorry ass excuse to cancel their fucking date for the late afternoon.

10:02 am

City of Tensaw within the US State of Alabama

(330 miles south from Huntsville)

Flat ground of tan colored soil and green short grass

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine and four mph winds

The tan colored rental sedan came from the airport with a set of four doors stopped at the invisible road intersection of State Road 59 and County Road 80 without a traffic light. Car driver Islander slapped on the left hand turn signal on top of the two-lane highway, before causing an accident with a stern face inside a pair of sunglasses, "Is this the spot, skipper?"

Skippy sat in the front passenger seat and looked down, reading out loud the information on the paper road map with a stern face, "Yeah. Turn to your left. Then we will be traveling onto County Road 80." Islander turned onto the road and drove fifteen feet. Skippy looked up with a smile and a yell to the flat ground of green grass. "Whoa! Stop here! Pull along the roadside on the north side. Everyone, get out of the car and then dress in your hunting and fishing gear which has been kindly paid for by the people of the USA."

Islander slowed the speed and pulled over onto the side of the flat ground, stopping the sedan, reaching over and pressed the button. The trunk popped open and slowly lifted up into the air. He killed the engine and pocketed the car keys for assurance to arrive back in Huntsville after the new assignment. He reached over and cracked the door open, scooting out the seat and stood upright with a smile and a pair of sunglasses. He wore a set of a dark green long sleeved shirt which would blend into the woodlands and not attract the attention of the American villain Brone, a pair of blue jeans and a pair of cowboy boots, and a baseball cap of dark green tint also to blend into the woodland scenery. He slammed the door shut and moved ahead with a stern face, scanning the new landscape of Tensaw.

The two-lane empty roadway was made of gray pavement with a few shallow potholes that had been easily avoided with the new steering sedan. On each side of the gray tinted and empty roadway, there was a miles of flat land in the colors of light green short grass and scattered tan colored bald sand traps. On top of the miles of flat land, there were nesting or flying or soaring birds in an assortment of colors and breeds from a tiny blue jay to a big hawk. The sunshine was bright and hot. The weather was parted clouds with blue sky. The winds were nine miles per hour from the southwest. Surrounding the open flat land in each direction, the pair of eyeballs saw a beautiful display of lush green colored woodlands of tall trees, low plant shrubs, assorted fruit trees, wild colorful assorted fruit vines, and an array of wild flower plants.

Inside the rented sedan of tan color, Fucner continued to sit with Cody in a tan colored long sleeved shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and a pair of cowboy boots inside the rear seat of the four door sedan and looked down with a frown at the mobile telephone, sipping and swallowed the warm beverage with a sour tone. "We should go to the fort first and ask some questions like a set of visiting and stupid-o tourists with the local staff. They live here. They know the landscape, the water, the trees..."

"Naw," Skippy reached over and cracked open the passenger door with a smile, scooting out from the seat, standing upright on top of the dry green grass and slammed the door shut. He spun around and moved ahead, scooting around the car and stood behind the open trunk, wearing a black colored turtleneck shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and a pair of cowboy boots.

Inside the rear seat next to Fucner, Cody opened the door and slid out, standing upright on top of the green grass with a smile, scanning the flat ground with a smile. He slammed the door and spun around, moving around the car and stood beside Skippy, "Why are we parked right here?" He reached down and pulled out the fishing gear one at a time, dressing the body. He wore a blue colored shirt that matched the blue sky, a pair of blue jeans, and a pair of cowboy boots. He slipped off one cowboy boot at a time and tossed it into the trunk of the sedan.

Inside the rear seat of the sedan, Fucner stared down at the ugly message from the sexy girl that didn't get fucked last night with a deep sigh and pocked the mobile telephone, reaching over and cracked open the passenger door, sliding out with a sour frown on top of the gray pavement roadway, standing upright in a pair of sunglasses, a tan colored fishing hat, scanning the landscape. The landscape showed flat ground of green short grass with sparse patches of tan sand. He slammed the door shut and moved ahead, sliding around the sedan and stood beside Skippy in front of the open trunk.

Behind the open trunk, Cody reached inside and grabbed, pulled up a pair of long black tinted rubber field boots with a laugh which would keep the naked feet dry and warm from the standing water puddles that flowed out from the tiny branch stream, stomping the two feet solidly down into the bottom of the soles. "This is the third mission in water. I vote our next one should occur on a drier surface like a hot sandy beach in the US State of Hawaii." He reached down and grabbed the shotgun and the box of ammunition out from the trunk, back stepping from the trunk lip. Islander took Cody's place to dress. Cody stopped and stood in the grass a few feet from the open trunk of the sedan while loading the chamber of the shotgun with a round of live ammunition in case of meeting up with villainous Brone for a second time.

"I concur with that new assignment too," Islander slid off each boot and exchanged it for a pair of the same rubber black tinted field boots like Cody with a chuckle, reaching down, pulling out a pair of twin hand guns, loading the hand guns with a round of live ammunition in case of a surprise visitor to the same woodland for the new mission and then stowed each one inside the waistline utility belt.

Skipper finished dressing in the pair of chest waders. A pair of plastic pants went up from the feet to the chest in dull tan. He pulled down a tan colored captain's cap over the black-grayish hair roots with a smile and reached down, grabbing the long rifle, sliding it down into a back spine gun hostler for fun with a smile, back stepping from the open trunk for Fucner to dress. He stopped and stood next to Cody, scanning the flat ground with a smile. "Did everyone read the assignment on the flight about the Fort Mims massacre which occurred the date of August the thirty in the year 1813? Fort Mims is located about thirty-five miles north of the seaside city of Mobile. It was the Red Eagle and his Red Sticks braves who fought against the white men and women and children and an armed militia of 256 guns plus some half-breed Indians which was a total of 517 people.

"The lucky ones were murdered and killed during the surprise Indian attack. The others poor white bastards and children were head scalped. Ouch! By five o'clock, the battle was done. The buildings were all sacked and burning. We know the story, since thirty-six men escaped with three women and one child from the burning fort. Now, why didn't the men protect more of the womenfolk and children?

"I can't answer that. I don't know. So whatever! Ironically to me, the Red Stick victory was the greatest achievement by the Native Americans. Why fight, now? Why win, now? Anyways, the US Federal Government sent boots in with Colonel Andrew Jackson, who kicked some red skin ass. The Creek Indians were finally defeated which ended the Indian war games and then the US federal government started exporting all of them into the wild, wild western part of the USA for more fun. Wrong! I know. Anyways, we are here to seek and find the famous Grandmother Cedar. Currently, the US federal government owns Fort Mims which is a National Historical place of the USA. The end!"

In front of the open trunk of the tan colored sedan, Fucner stood beside Islander with a stern face and pulled off each cowboy boot, dropping down into the floor of the trunk in exchange for a pair of tan colored wading fishing pants with a pair of black tinted booties for stomping over the wet ground to find the Grandmother Cider. He reached down and grabbed, taking a single hand pistol and stowed it inside the waistline utility belt, since his back pocket held a switchblade knife and there was a second hand gun inside a shoulder hostler for use as well. He finished dressing with Islander and reached up, grabbing and slammed the trunk closed.

Islander and Fucner spun around with a stern face and stare at the team leader Skippy for the next order.

Skippy turned to face the line of green thick woodlands and strolled around in a circle around the dry green short grass with a smile and a nod, pointing down at the road. "State Road 59 is north or to the right of me. We don't wanna go there. Fort Mims is seven miles west on Highway 59 on this here nicely paved gray colored roadway which is called Boatyard Road," he stopped and stomped a boot onto the roadway with a smile, pointing in the far distance with a smile. "This is Boatyard Road. So, the fort is west or to the left of me. Fort Mims was a rough log stockade under construction in the year 1813 with 500 folks who were not Alabamians. The territory Alabama was not a US State until the year 1818. So, we don't wanna go there. Now, listen up! Alabama history books said that the Creek Indians first attacked the fort of Burnt Corn Creek which was located 61.48 miles, northeast, from the small town of Tensaw. By car trip, it takes a vehicle one hour and thirteen miles on County Road 5 to State Road 59. Now, in the year 1813, there was not any type of rolling cars, only a fast horse or a slow mule. The tribe of Creek Indians rode a set of Paint horses which is a direct descendant from a quarter horses. Quarter horses are fast and run almost fifty miles per hour at a dead gallop. I know my horses. Now, if the tribe of Creek Indians rode from sixty miles on top of a horse at full gallop, it would take a little over one hour. Do you agree with me?"

Fucner stared at a sour frown at Skippy, "Yeah! What you are doing or saying here, skipper?"

"I am explaining my history correction," Skippy chuckled. "Now, I have researched the reasons for the attack at Fort Mims. Scholars have concluded that the war did not threaten the white settler of the single fort settlements. As a matter of fact, the settlers started the dang argument which led up to the Creek War. The Creek Indians lost the war, of course, like always, since the white men is both greedy and mean like present day now and back then. I'm one-fourth Indian blood. Does that answer your fucking smirk, Fucner? Good! Glad!

"The history books stated that tribe of Creek Indians attacked the train depot at Burnt Corn Creek here in Bama. I can't find the city of Burn Corn Creek anywhere here in Bama. But, the good folks of the small town of Burnt Corn claim the fame. So whatever! I found of interest. There were numerous forts that were occupied a set of white settlers around here.

"There was Fort Mims, of course. Fort Pierce was two miles southeast of Fort Mims. Fort Glass was across the Alabama River, where I am pointing my finger on my right which is towards the Tensaw delta river. There was Fort Madison on the easterly side of the Alabama River, which is south of Fort Mims. Fort Madison was a nice fort with a nice neighbor of stock houses, a mill, and a cotton gin. So, my question is why did the white settlers build another fort right here in the middle of nowhere? You can't answer that, but I can.

"History books said that a rough and mean band of white colored militia attacked first on the established and stationary huts and the tribe Creek Indians while probably wanting something as usual. However, this time the tribe of angry Creek Indians fought back. During this rough period of Alabama history, the Creek Indians would gladly hand over plots of land as the white settlers carried a shotgun and ruined the lush green colored landscape, chopping down all the trees for a house and then polluting up the sky with black smoke with the burning wood for heat. But, this time the tribe of Creek Indians fought back and won. Why is that important here?"

Islander reached around and pulled out the glossy pamphlet, reading out loud the new information for all eardrums with a stern face. "It says on the glossy pamphlet that I picked up at the gas station that the tribe Creek Indians drew blood first on the white settlers."

Cody nodded with a stern face. "Each fort was erected for the protection of the settlers against all the tribes and attacks of the Creek Indians."

Skipper turned and frowned at Cody. "Why? This is their land, not the invasion of white man, who really came on ships from Europe. The Burn Corn Creek Battle is both vague and sketchy. Consider this passage! The topography runs southwest for several hundred yards and then bends while running southeast for half a mile or more. At the elbow of the bend, a low patch of pine trees surrounds a semi-circular range of hills which extends to the creek bank on the south side. As I read through the description, there wasn't a paved road in the year 1813. There wasn't a dirt road in the year 1813. And there wasn't even a horse path in the year 1813. So, how did the tribe of Creek Indians on a horse attack Burn Corn Creek and then arrive in plenty of free time to massacre an additional five hundred white folks without announcing one dang warning? I can't answer it either."

Islander frowned at Skippy. "Are you questioning that the Creek Indian attack took place at Fort Mims? Are you thinking that it was faked by the group of white settlers or something like that, skipper?"

Skipper shook a captain's cap to each team member. "Naw! I believe that the bloody Indian and white man massacre took place. I believe for a different reason rather than some wet soggy ground. Look around you! The grass is wet and soggy here, since it is really close to the river bank. But, I have another clue. The Tensaw settlers also gossiped about all the observed war dances of the tribe of Creek Indians, somewhere beyond the fort in the direction of north," he looked into the northern direction of unlimited blue sky with a nod and tapped down at the paper map with a smile. "I picked up this paper map at the hotel yesterday. I see State Road 59 goes north toward south, where we traveled yesterday too. County Road 80 or Boatyard Road only goes west from State Road 59, where Fort Mims is located. There is a new road which is named Burnt Car Road which travels directly north and parallels State Road 59. My theory, the tribe of Creek Indians attacked Fort Mims coming from the geographical area of Burnt Car Road, because they were protecting something. The white settlers all died in the bloody massacre, except for a few children. The history books had to tell something, so they confused Burnt Car Road with Burnt Corn Creek with a separate Creek Indian attack."

Fucner narrow the eyelids and scanned the lush green colored woodlands between the sides of roadway with a stern face, "So, what is between Boatyard Road and Burnt Car Road, skipper?"

"Grandmother Cedar," Cody nodded with a smile at Skippy.

He clapped with a smile and a nod to each team member. "Let's go and find Grandmother Cedar, boys!" Skippy spun around to face the northern line of green lush woodlands, leading the team with a smile.

Cody spun around to face the same northern woodlands and dashed ahead, pulling up beside Skippy over the dry green grass and tan colored sand with a smile. "He said the world would be a dark place, where evil would reign. However, the pure in heart would look for His return. That is a famous saying among the tribe of Native Americans. This here isolated spot is an example of that saying. The Native Indians believed Him and were protecting Grandmother Cedar, since she couldn't protect herself. Golly! You know the church teaches about the virgin birth, the crucifixion, the resurrection, not reincarnation. The Templars Knights taught mysticism, reincarnation, and good works to each other, suppressing the dark powers of Satan. Where would the knights get a notion of reincarnation? They got it from the church way back then. Now days, the church doesn't hint about anything about reincarnation. However, it was the big four among religion, the virgin birth, the crucifixion, the resurrection, and the reincarnation for serving Almighty God. The first Council of Nicaea in the year 325 AD ran by Emperor Constantine of Rome and ratified the Holy Roman Law which officially canned the notion of reincarnation in the church ground, the church service and the church people."

Islander and Fucner moved behind the back spines of Skippy and Cody while side stepping and dodged the wet puddles in silence.

Outside landscape of green wet grass and tan colored sands

Cody wore the shotgun on a collar bone and reached over, whipping out the mobile telephone from the pocket of blue jeans, looking down with a smile and typed on the tiny screen, reading out loud with a smile. "What color is your snot yellow, green, red, brown, black, or clear?"

Islander continued moved ahead and dodged more wet puddles with a sour frown and stared at the blue sky. "Not now, Cody!"

"Not here, Cody!" Fucner stopped and stared down at wide water puddle, without splashing more water onto the boot.

Cody continued to move ahead with Skippy and stomped through the water puddle for fun with a laugh, splashing residue onto Fucner and Islander, "Lookie! We ain't got nothing else to do but forward hiking to find that tree. This'll kill the wasted time."

"Or I'll kill you, kid," Fucner moved ahead and shifted around the wet puddle with a sour frown.

Skipper continued to move forward and turned, scanning the woodlands with a smile. "Just stay alert and watch out! We're peeling back our eyelids for Grandmother Cedar."

"She's big and tall and gray and thousands of years old. You can't miss her. My snot is clear. That means the mucus in my nose is healthy. If I get an infection, my body sends in the white blood cells with an enzyme that turns my snot into yellow or green colored. Black boogers are dirt particles up inside your nostrils like a little kid. Red or brown colored snot is broken blood vessels, so call your doctor. Snot is formed from dirt and mucus. Fucner breathes in dirt, pollen, and other yucky stuff, when the slimy stuff called mucus which traps it inside your nose holes. That's why you got boogers, Fucner. The tiny hairs inside your nostrils shift the snotty goo to the front of your nose or the back of your throat. Snot is composed of a mixture of mucus, dirt, pollen, and other stuff," he laughed. "What in the hell is the other stuff sniffing up into your two nose holes?"

Fucner continued to follow behind Cody and Skippy and stared at the green woodlands with a grin, "Tobacco or beer or vaginal discharge!"

"Fucner has some real life time experience with the other stuff mixed with his nasty snot," Islander reached over and slapped the bicep of Fucner with a laugh.

Cody continued to move ahead with a laugh and read out from the tiny screen of the mobile telephone. "Your nose is a snot-producing fleshy machine making four cups of mucus per day. Yucko! And you swallow most of it. Double yuck-o! The snot and spit mixes and then goes down your throat silently. When the snot is too thick and builds up inside your throat, it runs down your esophagus which is called post-nasal drip. Snot is inside your stomach, intestines, mouth, and lungs. The other snot comes from the tissues lining your body, keeping things moist and protected," laughing. "This is cool! Thick plug of snot forms at the opening of the female cervix and then seals off her uterus, where the new fetus grows. When she delivers the baby, the cervix opens up and then the snot plug drops out her..."

"Find anything topic, right now, Cody," Skipper moved ahead with a sour frown.

Cody continued to move ahead through the dry soil and then the water puddles, splashing the fishing pants with water and sands, reading out loud the new information from the tiny screen on the mobile telephone. "What hue is your piss pink, red, yellow, clear, golden, or neon color?" Fucner laughed with a nod.

Islander moaned with a sour frown. "Are we there yet, daddy?"

Cody continued to move through water puddles and sand pits with a grin, looking down at the tiny screen on the mobile telephone. "I checked. I cleared with light yellow. I'm normal."

"I truly wonder," Fucner chuckled.

Cody smiled. "If your pee is light yellow or almost clear, you are drinking enough water. Dark golden colored piss is an indication that you need to suck on more beer..."

Fucner laughed. "Beer makes you piss more, genius smart ass Cody."

Islander frowned. "Do not encourage him, Fucner!"

Fucner smiled. "Both caffeine and beer are diuretics that stimulate your piss into happening more often during the night."

Skipper smiled. "You should replace some bottles of beer with water. Then you went go during the night, Cody."

Cody continued to read out loud from the mobile telephone. "Some vitamins and medicines can turn your piss into neon rainbow colors. One time, I ate the red frosting off my grandmomma's birthday cake and then later that night, my shit turned bright red," chuckling. "Pink or cloudy piss is a sign of infection, kidney disease, bladder cancer, or internal injury. Most folks piss between six and eight times per day. How many times do you piss, Fucner?"

"A lot," Fucner laughed.

Cody laughed. "Piss is germ free inside your body. Outside your body, it is a nasty bacterium. So, don't drink your piss or pee on a jellyfish. Both vile actions can give you a STD infection," chuckling. "If a jellyfish stings your ankle, then you pour a handful of seawater over it or use a jar of vinegar," he laughed with the others.

Fucner laughed. "The sound of running water makes me piss. Is that normal, Cody?"

Cody typed on the tiny screen with a laugh. "Let's see if Fucner is a normal male?"

"Naw," Islander grinned.

Cody read out the mobile telephone with grin, "O fuck no, Fucner! You got something really bad. It says right here on my cell phone suddenly running out of the room to piss is a sigh of thyroid problems, diabetes, multiple sclerosis, Parkinson's disease, or an unknown explanation..."

Islander chuckled. "I can hold my piss for six hours or more..."

"Bullshit! When you gotta piss, you gotta piss," Fucner halted and stood in place, reaching down and unzipped the fishing gear and then his blue jeans, whipping a penis and pissed down into the water puddle. "Like now!"

"Do not encourage him, Islander!" Skipper continued to move ahead and away from stationary Fucner, splashing into more ankle-deep puddles of water with a smile.

Cody continued to move ahead and looked down at the tiny screen, reading out loud from the mobile telephone. "Holding your piss develops bladder infections and urinary tract infections for both males and females. Don't hold your piss, Islander! Follow Fucner's lead!"

Fucner finished pissing into the water puddle and zipped up the clothing, swiftly moving ahead to join the two rows of team mates. "Men don't get UTIs. So, your information is full of shit like you, Cody. But when you sneeze, cough, or laugh plus piss, you're overweight," laughing.

"Pick another topic, Cody!" Skippy moved ahead with a sour frown.

Cody continued to move through the water puddles with a laugh and read out from the mobile telephone. "What color is your shit, Fucner?" They waded through the ankle-deep water while traveling up a sloped wet sandy colored hill, fighting with the series of low thick green colored branches on the tall trees and halted on top of the hill peak in the bright sunshine underneath a blue sky without clouds. The new landscape was composed of tan colored sand which was devoid of water puddles and dry dirt. Cody dropped open a mouth and narrowed the eyelids at the single tall tree, holding the mobile telephone in one hand. "Grandmother Cedar!"

Skipper stood behind Cody and Skippy with a smile at the tree. "That went fast."

Fucner stood behind Cody and Skippy and exhaled with a huff of frustration, "It is not fast enough for the day and me."

Islander whispered for his eardrums only. "An older cedar tree will possess gray bark with twisted branches..."

Fucner moved ahead and scooted around both Cody and Skippy, strolling down the sloped hill with a smile, heading to the tree. "The old tree gives a new meaning to the words, twisted sister," chuckling.

Skipper moved behind the back spine of Fucner with a nod and smile. "We really found it. Now, what do we do, Cody?" Cody moved beside Skippy in silence and continued to hold the mobile telephone, staring at the Grandmother Cider with a smile.

Islander moved behind the back spine of Fucner and Skippy and stared at the ancient tall tree with a smile. "We need to call the military reserves for help out here. That ancient tree is over two hundred feet tall in height with an array of numerous naked and bare gray colored tree branches. I see plenty of naked bark trunk spots that could easily wand an axe to cut down to the ground, before Brone does it for us."

Cody spun around with a gasp and moved backward over the sandy soil to see Islander, "Naw, Is! We can't kill the tree. It is a living entity here inside Almighty God's nature forest."

"It is a dumpy stumpy forest of dead trees, Cody. This place is slowly dying into the river water. We are here for a mission, a specific mission to save earthlings. Earthlings don't give a shit about an old ancient tree," Fucner moved ahead and stopped at the edge of the sandy soil, looking down with a smile, pointing down at the numerous objects. "Lookie over here! There is an ancient wagon wheel of tiny tan colored stones. Where is the Troy horse, ya'll?"

Cody spun around with a worried brow and slowly moved ahead, veering around the tall tree, studying a circle of low tan colored stones that surrounded the outside of the tree roots for some strange reason, "Hmm! It looks like a sign of some type of religious or spiritual significance in the formation of a traditional medical wheel," he completely the circle and stopped, standing next to Fucner, looking down with a stern face and typed on the tiny keyboard of the mobile telephone for new information on the internet.

Islander moved ahead and stopped, standing on the other side of Fucner, staring down with a smile at the circle of tan colored stones. "A wheel represents no beginning or no ending."

"Yeah! It is looks like the ancient tall tree is stuck in a large circle of short stones for some shitty fun too." Fucner back stepped from the tree and turned, slowly moving around the tree, studying each stone with a stern face. "What is this thing? It is a death ring which represents the end cycle of your life."

Skipper back stepped from the tree and turned to face the woodlands, veering around the tree, studying down at each tan colored tiny rock. "The semi-polished tan colored stones are laid out along the soil in a certain pattern, a circle pattern. Why is that?" He reached down into the pocket of the blue jeans and whipped out the mobile telephone, looking down with a stern face to type on the tiny keyboard, accessing the new internet information on the mobile telephone.

Cody stood in place in front of the ancient tall tree and looked up with a stern face to see the blue skyline and the landscape. "And the high range of mountains blocks the sun with the tiniest fraction of light. They picked a good spot for an epic event to occur here for some reason."

Skipper continued to slowly move around the tree and read out loud the new information on the mobile telephone for all eardrums. "The circle holds a seventy-five feet diameter with a set of twenty-four spokes. This is a Native American site. I found one like it on the internet. The wheel pattern is about 7,000 years ago. A medicine wheel is used to mark the astronomical events of the sun, the moon, some stars, and some planets in relation to Earth's horizon at a given location for celebrating important ceremonies to give thanks to the Creator. However..."

"Naw!" Fucner shook a skull and looked down at the tiny screen of the mobile telephone, slowly moving around the circle of stones that was around the tree. "No time for howards or howevers! We need to solve the damn puzzle or the ring or the wheel from the year 10,000 BC, the age of man, where Brother Jesus walked and talked with Moses. Let us end this Hollywood horror picture film! Amen!"

Islander stood in place and reached out, whipping out the mobile telephone, typing on the tiny keyboard on the mobile telephone with the new information from the internet. "Each medicine wheel has unique characteristics. Even a set of dead and live famous archaeologists can't solve out the function this medicinal ring."

Cody stood in place in front of the tree and looked down with a stern face at the bottom tree roots and then up towards the highest naked tree branches with a sigh. "Okay. We use the landscape for answers when logic don't work, ya'll," he closed the eyelids and slowly started to circle the body. "I can stand here and then slowly rotate my body around like a tree. I feel the sun light. The sun light is obscured by the ridge of tall green pine trees lining the north, the east, and the south landscape of the big cold feeling mountains. No gorges or water or rivers. No platforms of flowers or bushes."

Islander continued to stand in place and look down, reading out loud on the mobile telephone for more information. "If we were the Mayans, they used the wheel for marking astronomy signs."

Fucner continued to move around the tree and stopped, standing beside Cody, looking down with a sour frown at the circle of stones. "So, do we wait upon nightfall? Then we can follow the alignment of the stars or an eclipse or a comet or a meteor or a rainbow or a solar flare or a something else?"

Skippy continued to move around the tree also and stopped, standing on the other side of Cody, looking down with a sour frown at the circle of stones and then read out loud on the tiny screen from the mobile telephone. "These named predictable events could have been used by a medical wheel by the ancient medical man from an ancient culture. For example, I found this story on the internet. A solar eclipse which was predicted by Herodotus enabled the leaders to date a fierce battle between the Medes and the Lydians following the solar eclipse on May 28, 585 B.C. Ancient astronomers also could calculate the position and the magnitude based on each supernova in the sky," he looked up with a puzzled brow to see the nose profile of Cody. "Could this be predicting a supernova sun flare that might come and hit down here on planet Earth? Then, the entire race of earthlings would be pan-fired into death."

"Gawd! Please no, not here, today. Do it tomorrow! Okay. So I can hide underneath my bed during the death event." Fucner looked up and shaded the eyeballs with a smile to see the blue sky.

Skippy stood in place and continued to read out loud the tiny screen from the mobile telephone. "The historical records said that the conquistadores collected a rich source of information about medical wheels."

Fucner looked down and turned with a smile to stare at nose profile of Cody and then Skippy. Okay. I fetch a telescope or a conquistador. That's Spanish solider, right? Right!" He laughed.

Cody looked up from the dirt and slowly twirled around in a complete circle with a puzzled brow while scanning the entire landscape. "The land is barren without trees. The sky is clear without a single cloud. This is abnormal for a natural forest setting, ya'll."

Fucner chuckled with a nod at the landscape also. "I feel like I'm standing in the picture of a foreign country like Egypt. See? I got the pic on my cell phone," he lifted the tiny screen on the mobile telephone near a smile.

Cody stopped in place and looked down with a puzzled brow at the object on the dirt. "The outer single ring of the stones and the long spokes form a round circle like a Roman time clock. The total hours of twenty-four is divided by twelve which is a perfect rotation of the sun."

Islander continued to stand in place and silently read the new information on the mobile telephone. "We could use the science of archaeo-astronomy. This is a study of symbols of culture which is related to the past that understands all the different phenomena in the sky and the role the sky played in the social culture. I agree that the wheel can be pointed to a sunrise or sunset or a certain time of the day or evening. Okay. The wheel is used to mark the longest day in the year like the two solstices, the two equinoxes, and the four cross-quarter days."

Fucner turned and frowned at the nose profile of Islander. "Gawd damn! Use some American words! Or at least, chop it up with some southern slang. What in the hell are you rambling about, Is?"

"All those have passed." Cody reached down and grabbed, lifting it from the pocket, unfolding the paper that showed the art work stone. "Let's overlay the rounded stone pattern with an invisible design of an analogy clock of twelve whole numbers which is like a wrist watch. I'm going to set a pile of green leaves as the clock hands. Does everyone follow me? Good. There're three distinct points where man touches the tree of life which is the hand of the boy and the foot of the elephant and the beak of the parrot inside this paper that shows the stone art work. This represents the tree of life that comes from the Meso-American unknown artist, who had chiseled out the map a long, long fucking time ago, before the birth of Fucner.

"Okay. The position of the parrot's beak is set at about two o'clock. I'm going to use the whole number for simplicity. The elephant's foot is pointing at about five. The man's hand is at about eight o'clock. So, each limb of the human and the two animals emanate the hand on a clock of a stone dial," he back stepped from the circle of stone and waved a hand with a stern face, stopping and looking at the object on the dirt again. "Each one of you back step like me. Now, tell me! What you see now?"

Fucner back stepped from the circle of the stones and stopped, looking down with a sour frown at the empty water bottle. "What does it mean to me? Damn nothing!"

Cody lifted up and shuffled both hands in the air while representing all the identified clock numbers with a nod. "Okay. When I study the messy but accurate and sorta elevated green pile of leaves at each clock position, I can impose that invisible image on the wide body trunk of Grandmother Cedar. I see now. Wow! The clock hand of two is directly across from the clock hand of eight. The clock hand of five is directly across from the clock hand of eleven," he looked down with a smile to see the paper. "But, a position of eleven is not marked on the stone tablet..."

Islander sidestepped behind the back spine of Skippy and reached over, jerking the strap of the rifle out from the collar bone of Cody, jumping in front of Skippy, Cody, and Fucner with a sneer. He aimed the cold barrel at each face in silence.

Cody looked up with a sour frown and a growl at Islander. "You're dead, Is."

Fucner looked up with a sour frown and a sneer. "I kill you first for pointing a damn weapon at my handsome face."

Islander turned and aimed the cold barrel of the rifle at Cody, who stood in the center of the line. Islander twitched a chin back behind the collar bone with a sneer. "Do you see the red drips coming from the eleven o'clock position on the tree in the format of a wrist watch? That red liquid which is draining down from the cracked tree bark is called thujone. It is a neurotoxin. It will kill you swifter than a copperhead snake bite..."

Fucner turned and narrowed both eyelids at the tree while continuing to hold both arms in the air with a sneer. "He lies."

Skipper turned and stared at the dripping sap on the tree. "Specific, Is? I clearly see the dripping red colored sap coming out of the cracked tree bark."

Islander darted a pair of eyelids into the thick woodlands and returned back to see Cody while holding the gun barrel at his three co-workers with a worried brow. "Don't you notice it? Don't you hear it? We have trucked about three miles while listening to the unpleasant lecture of piss from Cody and didn't spot a single deer or a deer buck for Fucner's trophy room. I personally haven't heard a jay bird or a mocking bird or the sweet musical melody of a hammerhead bird, since we left the rental car by the roadside of Boatyard Road."

Skipper stood in place without raising both arms and turned to scan the thick lush green colored woodlands and then the tall brown colored mountain range with a nod in silence.

Islander continued to hold the gun at Cody with a worried brow at his three co-workers. "I personally haven't seen a slithering snake or a flying bird or even a webbed lazy banana spider between a set of low bushes here in the Bama woodlands, because the thujone odor drifts for miles and miles over the dry sandy soil and then down into the ocean waves. Animals are God-gifted with a sense of innate instincts for survival in the dangerous wilderness. They can smell that odor that we, dumbass humans can't. So, all the wild animals have gone up into the high mountains while waiting for a good thunderstorm to wash out the dirty remnants here down into the valley and out of the feeding grounds like a set of good little critters. Almighty God protects children, animals, and fools. Gentlemen, I have just saved your sweet asses from a swift death into heaven."

Cody dropped down both arms to the legs with a smile and dashed ahead, slamming the gun to the side and giving a hug to Islander, pulling back with a smile and a nod. "Thanks, bro! I appreciate living another day."

Islander dropped the rifle down by the leg with a nod in silence at Cody.

Skipper moved ahead and stopped, reaching out and slapped the collar bone of Islander with a smile and a nod. "You have a great pair of eyeballs and a set of smart neurons, sir."

Fucner moved ahead with a nod and stopped next to Cody in front of Islander, staring at the gray tree with a stern face. "You reminded us of the never-ending cycle of life. When you step into the circle, it gets you closer to Almighty God on a very personal level by an odor or a touch that kills you dead. Thanks for the warning, Is!"

Islander handed the weapon back to Cody with a nod to each team member. "The touch is quicker as the sap molecules absorb neatly into the outer skin epidermis and then straight towards the heart, giving you a final heart attack. The heart attack shuts off all blood flow around your body and then kills the brain and then finally the brain shuts down the lungs with air. You are dead."

"How did you know about the deadly neurotoxin thujone, Is?" Skipper continued to stand in place next to Cody and stared at the ancient gray colored tree.

Islander laughed with a smile. "I looked it up on my cell phone when Cody was annoying the shit of Fucner with the piss lecture. The natural toxin is very rare. Tree sap has been used in modern medicine from AIDS to vitamin C pills. Sticky sap comes out from all trees, except Grandmother Cedar is both old and tired of living. Her bite is worse than her bark. Her timber is life saving for His children. The sap is life taking for His enemies," he exhaled with a huff of worry and spun around to see the top of the tree. "The science article says that a cedar tree grows a little over hundred feet, not twice her height. Her sap is like a wicked bottle of Scot that has aged over a long, long period of time. She is centuries old which makes her sap highly toxic, not medicinal. That is why she is out here alone and very well disguised within a valley of mountains and surrounded by musty and dark waters. No hunter would ever accidentally stumble across her weathered trunk tree. My guess is that ancient Indian tribe with a wise old Native American medical man had placed an array of very large limestone boulders around ancient Grandmother Cedar. But with centuries and centuries of time, wind, sun, rain, and hail, the array of large boulders had been eroded away the circle and down into these little tiny chunks of small rocks which are no bigger than your fist. I noticed the irregular shapes of the rocks first."

Fucner back stepped from the tree with a worried brow. "Wow! I am super fuckingly scared and have shitted inside my clean underwear now. Let's go back home to Birmingham, ya'll! Brone can't touch this thing either."

Cody frowned at the sap on the tree. "What about the thujone which is the sap toxin that is leaking down from her tree trunk?"

Skippy sneered at the tree. "Let Brone find out the death way, if he decides to chop down the ancient tree. Then, the sticky sap will stick to all his hands, fingers, cheekbones, and any other exposed naked body parts like a flock of black colored ticks. However, he will provide his zealot army with a set of expensive hazard suits while protecting none of these bastards," he laughed with the others. "We were the first to arrive again. So, it is victory to us, rednecks, again."

Islander frowned at the tree. "I'm not a horticulturist, but she isn't going to make it. Once a good thunderstorm with the infamous Alabama tornado winds and golf-sized hail and quarter-sized raindrops plus a few good lightning bolts pound down that old girl, well she will become a batch of fallen logs dissolving slowly into bits of sawdust for the bird nests, the spider webs, the snake holes, and the forest bugs like Almighty God had really intended."

"Goodbye, Grandmother Cedar! Our mission is done for the day. Let's go back to Birmingham and spend some of my money," Fucner clapped with a smile at the tree.

Cody frowned at the tree. "He possesses the other gems stones but not the agate. Agate is very common here in Alabama. He has the blue prints and the brains. He can construct a second Ark of the Covenant and then eventually produce heat and electrocute human bodies."

Fucner frowned at the tree. "Right, Cody! They are a gang of wild and crazy ass zealots of God. They will die for God. The fucking zealots are some crazy motherfuckers. Gawd. I would cut kill them with my twelve-gauge shotgun right between the eyeballs and then deep fried them brown tinted like a bag of barbeque potato chip, both crunchy and crisp," laughing.

Islander laughed at the tree, "Geez! I'll never eat another barbeque potato chip again in my entire life, Fucner. Thanks for that wonderful Bama analogy, Fuck-it!"

Skipper nodded with a stern face, "Thanks to Cody and the miracle of ancient science! We have learned a lot for the day. A modern day bible Ark can be electrified with light using limestone, zinc, and earth gems like in the ancient times of Moses. One touch by a human index finger which holds personal sweat that contains salt and water can immediately activate the energy field within a modern day replicate of the Ark. A person within two hundred yards which is the length of a football field could become burned on impact coming from a circular wave and then die and then ascend into heaven or down into hell, depending on your good or bad spiritual soul. Instantaneously death kill by a square box will not occur today, maybe it will be tomorrow, if Brone finds another tree of life but not her."

Cody dropped down onto both kneecaps and folded the hands in prayer, closing both eyelids, bowing a chin into the chest. "Everyone kneel. We are going to pray for Grandmother Cedar to terminate her own life form. Then Brone can't find her ever. He can't do all the terrible things to the world by using her toxin sap."

Fucner shook a fishing hat with a sour frown of annoyance, "Ah naw!" Islander spun around with a smile and reached over, slapping the collar bone of Fucner, pointing down at the wet soil with a nod. Fucner exhaled with a puff of annoyance and slowly dropped down on both kneecaps into the wet soil.

Cody said. "Dear Grandmother Cedar, you have served your duty with strength and wisdom. Please release your nature spirit from the soil on planet Earth and return back to your origins of heaven. Amen!" The tree top branches exploded with a set of loud booms as each tree branch drifted through the sky or dropped down onto the soil.

"Damn! It worked, Cody!" Fucner dropped open a mouth to see each falling tree branch and stood upright, back pedaling from the numerous falling tree branches with a worried brow.

"Incoming!" Skipper stood upright with a worried brow from the dirt and slid over into Cody, colliding and slamming both of them down onto the ground.

The single helicopter hovered in the air waves and fired second round of heated bullets at Grandmother Cedar as each twisted tree limb broke free and then dropped down onto the soil. The upright gray tinted trunk cracked open and then splintered into a set of individual flying pieces of red colored burnt tree bark coming from the intense heated metal on the old frail and brittle tree bark. The front side of trunk that faced the team members opened up and then slid down, landing on the soil in plumes of white smoke and red sizzling tree bark. The helicopter turned and soared to the south towards the city of Mobile on the Gulf of Mexico with a set of faint shouts that echoed through the air waves in victory.

Islander stood upright with a puzzled brow from the dirt and pointed at the busted tree trunk with a gasp. "Grandmother Cider is completely hollow inside her exposed guts of the tree bark. There is only left the tiny scrapes of dead tissue of gray bark on the outside and all over the burning sands. How is this possible?"

Fucner squatted down and dropped a hand, digging into the dry sand, opening up a small hole that led towards a northern direction, standing upright with a sour frown and clapped the soil away from both hands. "Brone, he sucked her guts out using a set of present day technology machines. He ran a hollow pipe coming from the north end, underneath the dry sands, and then tapped into her fragile root system. He probably has been here for weeks while coming before us too. Her inners were only leaking out a tiny bit of the red residue from some of the leftover sap from the tree fucking. Now, Brone has a piece of acacia to complete his duplicate model of the Ark with his personal bad threat," he exhaled with a huff of worry and shook the fishing hat.

"Ah naw!" Cody bowed a chin and held the skull with both hands of worry and fear.

02:18 pm

City of Huntsville

Very hot temperatures with parted clouds of sun

Unnamed white painted building

211 Clinton Avenue location

Conference room thirteen interior setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

The team arrived back in the metro city of Huntsville on the private business jet and rode inside the rental limousine to the hotel and then coming back to work inside the unnamed white painted building that was located at 211 Clinton Avenue. Fucner appeared and stood inside the open archway, thumbing the entrance doors of the building while desiring to return back to the hotel room with the awaiting sexy girl.

Islander stood upright behind the conference table and patted the paper folder with a worried brow to each team member. "I am so sorry, guys. I missed this the first time."

Fucner wiggled the body with a smile. "Wait! Every time Is misses something. I get shot."

"Bullshit! Brone was shooting at Cody, not you. You were covering the copter floor you're your smelly green vomit and soiling your white boxers with a plop of brown shit. Come inside and sit down, Fucner!" Islander smiled at Skippy. "You know this shit requires very close visual inspection of all the rows of data. SUSY-Q is smart but she can't distinguish a significant bullshit finding from a regular bullshit finding. The female named Amber Ashmore was a millionaire. Her estate has been donated to Antebellum House which is a private boarding school for a bunch of billionaire kids."

Skippy frowned. "Maybe, she hoped to send her own biological child to that institution one day."

"About two years ago, at Antebellum House, the entire student body was murdered along with their set of biological parents. There was a row of tiny cottages which was a formal home of each paid staff member that worked at Antebellum House. Inside one of the burnt down cottages, it was discovered a mess of massive teeth and bones. When the FBI finished their search, they concluded that twenty-four families with a mom, a dad, and one child were rounded up and killed in cold-blood and then burned inside one single cottage. A row of cottages was set on fire and totally destroyed making the site like a forest fire, since it was in hot and sizzling October, without any rainfall. It would have passed completely unnoticed, if one of the staff members wasn't searching for a pair of her misplaced diamond earrings..."

"Diamonds don't burn in hot flames." Fucner frowned.

Islander nodded with a smile. "Right, Fucner! This is really weird-ass stuff too. The original Antebellum House staff was given paid financial leave for an extended vacation when a substitute staff group from Burn U took each work spot. The substitute staff has not been found or paid either. Each payroll check at the Burn U administration office is still waiting on top of the accountant desk. Burn U started the investigation when the Antebellum House supervisor didn't show up to collect payroll checks and then the administration called the local police and then the executive administration called the FBI. This is really also weird-ass. Each Last Will and Testimony legal document of each dead person had bequest each the valid money bank account, the estate property, and all the remaining assets to Antebellum House. The house is worth billions and billions of dollars. A man named Brone White was the lawyer for the billionaire families."

"Brone Angel. Brone White. Angels have white robes and wings," Cody frowned.

"Demons possess both robes and wings, too," Skipper nodded with a worried brow.

"This is the new American way of life, getting a fake name and committing a murder," Islander frowned.

"This is the new American illegal alien way of life, getting a fake name and committing a murder of thousands and thousands of Americans which is too fuckingly ass true," Fucner frowned.

Islander cleared a throat. "The twelve gem stones, the man Brone, the property Antebellum House, the Starlit Pageant, all of these nouns are only a ruse which has been employed to cover up the real crime, a cold-blooded murder of a group of young billionaires and their billionaire parents for some damn reason in which no one can theorize or terrorize."

Skippy nodded with a stern face. "So, we are all going to invade, inspect, investigate, interrogate, and invest into Antebellum House."

Fucner frowned. "You just say that it is a high school environment." All eyeballs turned and stared at Cody.

Cody dropped open a mouth and shook both his hands and his shoulder length curls. "Hell naw! Ah naw. No. Nope. Nada. No way. Not happening, ya'll. I'm not going back into high school. I have a master's degree..."

Skippy smiled with a nod at each team member. "Each one of us is working and living at Antebellum House for our next mission assignment which comes straight from the lips of the White House. I'm Professor Skippy, a teacher of English class. Yorkie is a maid in the kitchen. Islander is a limo chauffeur. Fucner is a guard on foot. Cody is the student."

Fucner frowned. "I wanna be the chauffeur..."

Skippy smiled at Fucner. "You don't possess a chauffeur license to drive a limo. Islander does along with all his other licenses of an aircraft pilot and a gun shooter for a Bama redneck. Islander will be tarrying all the folks to and from Antebellum House while getting the best chance of capturing our target that will become locked down between the limo doors. Fucner will have the best chance of scouting for Brone and all his cronies while surveying the outer corn fields of the high school campus and grounds. Yorkie will be inside the kitchen while hearing all the lip gossip of each young student teen, hoping to catch the surname of Brone's kid. And I will be a teacher while learning the name of each student. We do not know the kid's name. It could be Angel or White or Pink. Don't matter! We will be there with him. Islander will be tapping into all the school computers when not driving an ass around the roadways. And finally, Cody will be greeting and meeting each male teen for all and any additional surveillance and identification of our unknown and unknown teen target.

"The most important rule, we do not know each other. We do not meet for coffee at breakfast time. We do not live in the same cottage. We do not eat lunch or supper together. The only time we meet, when we have cornered the son of Brone. Then we drop his teen ass down into the limo and fly away from Antebellum House with our new grand prize. The school administration does not know about us and our new secret mission. The White House resources have painstakingly plotted this plot using numerous avenues to set up each one of us underneath hidden cover, without hinting at our presence there at Antebellum House. So, we do not break code ever. We invade Antebellum House separately and then leave together as a field unit with the known and identified teen kid."

Cody crossed both arms and shook his curls with a sour frown, "Naw! I ain't doing it. I quit right now. I'm going back to work from my old employer, the US Marshal Service."

Islander moved ahead and wrapped an arm around the tall teen while keeping Cody from an escape ploy, whispering with a smile down into the cheekbone of the kid. "Cody, we need you right now."

Skipper nodded with a smile at the kid. "You are not even eighteen years of age yet as the age is printed on your paper folder that went to Antebellum House, young sir. So Cody, go and get packed for your enrollment back into high school. Brone has a teen son who is attending the same private prep school which is called Antebellum House next week when the school session classes start with you. We kidnap him and demand all the gem stones in exchange for his biological child. Then, Brone gets the chance to start all over again while finding more gem stones, after he gets out of prison in the year 2080, if he lives that long," he reached over with a chuckle and fist bumped with Fucner.

Fucner tossed both arms into the air with a smile. "Cody is going back to high school."

"Ah naw!" Cody continued to shake his curls with a sour frown while crossing the arms as Skippy, Islander, and Fucner continued to nod with a laugh.
Wednesday August 11th

City of Montpelier within the US State of Vermont

Hot temperatures with parted clouds of sunshine

11:11 am

Home setting of Lillard's parents

Living room setting

Man-made cold temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Montpelier is the smallest capital city in the USA with a population of 7,868 which is surrounded by a series of green rolling hills and a series of tall granite ledges from the foothills of the Green Mountains, making the city ten square miles wide.

***

Inside the living room, a queen-sized middle-aged woman slowly strolled through the open archway from the outside yard with a smile, moving ahead towards the sofa and stopped, standing in front of the long sectional and stared at the nose profile of her daughter. "Lillard, your letter came today," she waved a white envelope in a hand and dropped the hand, opening up the envelope which revealed a folded letter with a hum of a familiar song with happiness like she always did when slightly entertained.

"What came, Mother?" Lillard sat comfortably inside the brown tinted chaise lounge with a pair of naked feet on top of the foot stool of the built-in furniture sectional and sipped on a strawberry-banana smoothie which had been made by her loving mother while watching some afternoon television before starting the chore of attacking her school homework.

Her mother read out loud the contents of the letter with a smile. "This is your acceptance letter to your new school, this autumn. I am so excited, Lillard. This school was recommended by Senator Bennington, since you're a higher achiever than most of your classmates in all your academic classes as one of twenty valedictorians when you become a senior next year."

"What new school, Mother?" A queen-sized Lillard chomped both tongue and teeth down onto the double-thick sliced turkey, tomato, lettuce, and cheese sandwich between her finger pads as each food crumbs spilled on top of the lap table that covered her kneecaps. The food satisfied her craving of a late afternoon snack, before the serving of dinner around six o'clock, watching the comedy program on television plasma.

"You have been accepted. Hmm! There is a list of new clothes and new articles of items for your private bedroom suite. We should purchase you a new set of luggage for your extended trip to the state of Alabama. We need to go shopping, Lillard." Her mother leaned down and handed an expensive beige tinted and silky feeling letter to her daughter while scanning a second attached list of personal items that were required by the Antebellum House which had come inside the same envelope.

Lillard dropped down the sandwich onto the plate and reached out, grabbing the letter with a set of greasy finger pads, quickly reading the words with a sad face. "No, Mother," she pitched the letter down onto the floor and then lifted the sandwich up into an open mouth of words. "I'm going to attend the Vermont Art School and write love novels for all young teens. I have dreamed about writing, since I was eight years old. I don't want to start a new high school. I'm a senior this year. I love Montpelier High. I've never heard of Antebellum House in the US State of Alabama that's a southern state. I'm a northern girl." She ate and chewed the sandwich while watching the reminding half of the television program.

Her mother smiled at the second piece of paper. "The small town of Leed has long humid autumns with little or no snow between the months of December to February, unlike here. We receive ninety inches of snow during wintertime, sometimes all at once. Your father expects you to enter Vermont State, after high school graduation, Lillard."

She swallowed with a sour frown and stared at the television plasma screen "No, Mother. I'm old enough to make my own plans. I plan to attend Vermont Art School. The school's guidance counselor is preparing my college application for next month," she ate and chewed the food, watching the plasma television screen in silence.

Her mother looked up with a smile and a nod to see the nose profile of her daughter. "Lillard, this school is very special. The graduating class attends the best universities within the USA. Senator Bennington has told me personally that each one of these students is the first batch of handpicked students that can attend any post-secondary institution which is truly desired."

She swallowed the food with a sour frown and stared at the television screen. "That means this school probably has ninety-nine point ninety-nine percent rich kids. Am I correct, Mother?" She ate and chewed the food, watching the television plasma.

"Rich is only a word, Lillard. Your father does very well in his business. But you're correct about the school, Lillard. However, this particular school only accepts a certain type of student whose background is very unique."

She swallowed the food with a sour frown and stared at the television screen. "Mother, I am not that unique. I consider my person to be really more main stream."

"Antebellum House only accepts teens whose true blood relatives had served in the War Between the States in the year 1863."

Lillard dropped down the food and turned with a gasp to see her mother. "The Civil War is done and over, since the year 1865 within the nineteenth century, Mother. Need I remind? This is the twenty-first century."

"Lillard, I did graduate from college also. I have a good suggestion. Why don't you plan and stay until the holiday session? Then, you can come home and then re-start your old high school, after the holiday break."

"I'll do this, because I love you, Mother. Since, you went through both great expense and trouble for me to endure four months from the late of August to the Thanksgiving holiday. Then, I can home and start my high school finishing as a valedictorian," she ate and chewed the food with a grin while watching the television program.

"That is a good plan, Lillard. You would have spent some time at a very prestigious school that will get you accepted into which ever college you want..."

"Vermont Art School."

"Making your father, a very happy man along with some valuable scholarship money for your four months of sacrifice and maybe make a new friend or two," her mother smiled down at the brown hair roots of her only child.

Lillard continued to watch the television screen and lifted up the food with a sour frown. "I don't think so, Mother."
Sunday August 15th

City of Leed within the US State of Alabama

(18 miles east from Birmingham)

Very hot temperatures with bright sunshine

03:01 pm

Very hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Antebellum House location

Driveway and sidewalk setting

The approaching black tinted limousine slowed the speed on top of the circular driveway of Antebellum House and then stopped in front of the vanilla colored sidewalk and brick colored steps. The structure was a gigantic three-story Greek-revival style antebellum building with a set of six white columns that traveled non-stop up into the blue skyline and then slapped back down into the gray colored concrete front porch. The front porch displayed a big square hole in the middle of the building, where a set of double closed entrance doors should have been.

Antebellum House was colored in light pink granite mineral that gleamed like the eight-carat diamond ring. There was not a wooden railing that lined an elevated front porch, where a person could fall down onto the ground and then break an arm from the porch. There were a set of two separate walking steps that were built perpendicular into the elevated foundation of the building which led directly up and onto the elevated front porch. The opposite set of walking steps drew person towards the big hole in the middle of the building. The big hole was an open and hollow tunnel that went straight through from the front entrance portal towards the rear exit and down the middle of the building.

The limousine door opened.

Fucner slid out from the passenger seat and stood upright on top of the gray tinted driveway without closing the door, back stepping from the open door and spun around, moving ahead and rounded the rear bumper of the vehicle as he was the assigned bodyguard to the teen-ass. He stopped and stood beside the rear door that led out onto the vanilla sidewalk, reaching out and opened the door handle while staring at all the pretty teenage girls that passed in front of his eyeballs. He nodded with a wink to each young female without viewing the interior passenger of the limousine. "Come out of the limo, sir!" Another pretty girl passed by his smile. "Please come out of the limo, sir. It is time to attend all of your academic classes, sir," he stood in the hot sun wearing a wool business jacket, a pair of trousers, a long sleeved dress shirt, and a long necktie, watching a group of teen in front of the eyeballs and bent down, staring into the darkness of the interior rear bench of the limousine with a sneer. "Get your ass out..." Another pretty girl passed by with a distorted face in front of Fucner.

Fucner stood upright with a nod and a smile at the pretty teen female like a paid house servant and then bent back down at the fit waistline with a sour frown to see into the darkness of the interior rear bench again with a sneer, "Sterling, it is time to get out of the limo, before I come in there to assist you, sir," he slurred the alphabet letter of S with fury.

The driver's door opened. Islander slid out the seat and stood upright with a smile on top of the gray tinted driveway, slamming the door shut with a laugh at both the young smart-ass teen and the elderly smart-ass man while watching the commotion.

Fucner continued to lean down and reached inside the rear bench seat, grabbing and snatched onto the newly purchased sports coat of Sterling/Cody with a sneer. "Get your ass out of that car, now, boy!"

Cody reached up and tossed off the baseball cap, scooting across the rear bench seat, standing upright from the seat with a stern face in front of the open door of the limousine. He was not happy about acting out the life of a teenager again. Fucner stared with a gasp and then a sneer at Cody. "What in the hell are you wearing, Cody?"

Islander stared with a smile and a chuckle at skull of Cody, who was code named Sterling Pierce for the new mission at Antebellum House. "What are you, not wearing? Where has your long shoulder length blonde hair gone down to hell or up to heaven, Master Sterling?" Cody didn't answer and spun around to face the front porch steps.

Fucner followed and stared at the rear baldness of Cody, shaking a skull, looking with a smile to see Islander, "Jeezus! Professor Skippy is going to shit two brown tinted turds inside his pair of pink panties." Islander laughed with a nod.

The male was tall and obese with a head of grayish-brown cropped hair, something fifty years old, wearing a pair of blue jeans and a pair of cowboy boots, standing in the middle of the front porch when Sterling/Cody glided around the male. He shouted out loud for all eardrums at the pretty teen female. "Greetings to Miss Sondra, her great great-granddaddy Dameron served in the 12thAlabama Artillery Regiment..."

Third level floor

Watch Tower setting

"Belle," the super tall and super muscular teen male squatted down on top of the footstool while avoiding the piles of gray tinted bird shit. He wore a black tinted cowboy hat that blocked out the late afternoon sun from a pair of tender eyelids. His torso in a white T-shirt and a pair of naked biceps leaned over the weathered wooden railing of dull white peeling paint inside a high and exposed balcony, without a constructed rooftop. The tower level access was off limits which could only be used by the employed and paid maids and butlers of Antebellum House. He continued to watch the female in silence. The teen female struggled out from seat of the limousine in the long ball gown as her face was hidden underneath a silk parasol that blocked out the sun also while slowly moving ahead and climbed the short steps that led to the front porch. The black tinted limousine drove away from the vanilla tinted sideway and moved towards the open gates. A second limousine in the color of white parked in the spot and opened the door, revealing a tall teen male from the bench seat. The teen male moved ahead and climbed the steps of the front porch. He stared with a stern face at the new teen male, "Beau."

A second tall and lean teen male stared with a stern face at the manicured flower garden. "They are all either a belle or a beau. Why we up here in the heat on the top of fucking rooftop, Ween?" He leaned both elbows across the same railing and observed a set of new high school students that would be attending Antebellum House this season. "And I smell the roasting bird shit underneath my boot heels."

"The platform is called a watch tower which had been used by a spotter and a set of sharp shooter during the war battle times here in Bama. Then, after peacetime, the rooftop which is really a concreted platform was accessed by the students to dance underneath the moon and stars during the summertime weather, before that stupid belle got drunk off some home-made muscadine berry wine and then fell off the concrete platform plunging thirty feet down into her death," Ween stared with a stern face at each new kid while noting height, weight, body language, attitude, and behavior, "Belle." The new teen female exited out from the new golden tinted limousine and moved ahead towards the shade of the cool building, slowly climbing up the steps and strolled across the front porch with a set of parents while stopping and waited for a vocal entrance announcement down into the breezeway with the annoying tradition here at Antebellum House.

"Ezzard," Ween stared with a stern face at the new average height and weight teen male, who had exited from a silver tinted limousine and moved into the cool shade of the building.

"Buzzard," the second tall and lean male teen chuckled down at the average teen.

"No, Armistead! That kid helping his mama out from the limo, he is named Ezzard. Ezzard Cutshaw."

Armistead laughed. "Well, Buzzard is both short and stupid compared to me. I can whip his ass, Ween."

Ween grinned down at Ezzard, "Yeah, I can whip your ass, because you are both shorter and stupider compared to me, Armistead."

Armistead chuckled underneath the white colored cowboy hat, since his buddy Ween was super tallest among all the other teen and adult males here at Antebellum House. He narrowed both eyelids at the next limousine which dropped off a new teen female and as he smiled, "Yeah, you can whip my ass, but I ain't stupid. You grew taller during the summertime. How tall are you, buddy?"

"I am 250 pounds of seventy-nine inches of height in my bare feet and still growing."

"Shit! You will be cut in half to fill in a six-foot coffin at your old age funeral wake, son."

Ween continued to stare with a stern face down at teen male Ezzard. "The Battle of Murfreesboro included the First Tennessee Infantry."

Armistead smiled underneath the hat at the new set of teens. "My great-great granddaddy McAdoo was a sharp shooter for the First Tennessee Infantry unit which had been organized on seventh of September in the year 1861. He fought at the Battle of Murfreesboro and then his unit surrendered at Fort Donelson on the first of December in the year 1864, where he was captured. Then, he was paroled out of solider prison in the city of Greensboro within the US State of North Carolina on the second day of the month of May in the year 1865."

Ween stared down with a stern face at each new teen on the ground. "And your great-great granddaddy McAdoo answered to his great-great granddaddy Cutshaw."

Armistead frowned. "How do you know that, Ween?"

"Because, my great-great granddaddy Zillicoffer answered to his great-great granddaddy, who was named General Cutshaw of Tennessee too."

"I don't take orders from anymore Cutshaws or no carpetbaggers." Armistead sneered down at Ezzard Cutshaw.

"Carpetbagger? The Cutshaw family ain't from the northern states of the USA. They are a southern style and home-grown family coming from our native State of Tennessee. I just told ya that, Armistead. Why are using that old fox term?"

"You use it to describe folks that you don't want to come here at our Antebellum House like that girl there in the red long dress. Her family name is Benson coming from the US State of Vermont. Lillard is her name and Yankee girl is her status coming from the northern country, who is a new carpetbagger that has invaded the new south for a second time."

"Well, I think we can fix that problem, old buddy." Ween smirked down at Lillard.

"Yeah, I plan and aim, too." Armistead chuckled with an evil tone.

Ween frowned down at the new teen male. "Who is that coming out of the black limo with the bald noggin, Armistead?"

"His name is Sterling Pierce."

03:06 pm

Front porch setting

The young teen female lifted up a gloved hand and covered the brim of the hat with a sour tone to the hostess, "Why are we waiting right here on the sidewalk in the hot sun? I'm getting sweaty out here in the heated weather of August. It's hot in August..."

Cody moved ahead and scooted around the line of teens, climbing up the short steps, stomping onto each long dress train, strolling straight towards a row of rocking chairs that was occupied with both teens.

03:08 pm

Beau parlor room setting

Sterling/Cody rapidly moved ahead and entered the open archway on the side and heard the words from the male host.

The short teen male stood inside an extra-wide door archway with a smile and pointed inside the room. "This is the parlor room for the beaus for gathering, after suppertime to chat, gossip, and relax, before bedtime. It also serves as a reception room in case of company, which is rare, since your parents have placed you here instead. A set of biological parents are not allowed to visit you during school days, but you can return back home during the holiday break. Head Mistress Symole will explain all of this information later during her late afternoon presentation..."

Sterling/Cody stopped a few feet inside the room in silence and turned, scanning the square shape enclosed room. The beau parlor room was painted in baby blue on one-third of each solid wall, the lower portion of the wall. The other two-thirds of the upper solid wall was stark white in color and contrast. The floor was composed of white tinted carpet with a set of scattered living room furniture pieces of numerous mismatched long sofas and individual oversized mismatched and colorful sitting chairs between a set of mismatched side tables. Sterling stopped and smiled at the new teen male.

The tall teen male sat inside a padded oversize sitting chair with a nod and a smile to Sterling/Cody, "Afternoon, boy! What's your hurry on this gorgeous day of August?"

Sterling grunted with a smirk to the new teen male, since his new assignment was to locate the misplaced son of Brone. "I'm running away from the hired help who wanna lick my asshole clean and shiny."

"Ezzard," the new teen male laughed with a nod to Sterling. "I completely understand. Come on in and sit a spell inside the beau parlor room, before the afternoon orientation." Sterling moved ahead and spun around, sliding down into the sitting chair next to Ezzard. Ezzard turned with a grin to face the side table and reached out, grabbing a tall bottle of brown tinted liquid, pouring out the liquid into a small whiskey glass and grabbed an unlit cigar, swinging around to hand the two items to Sterling with a nod. "Do not light the cigar! But, you can sniff on it or chew on it in here. This is the beau parlor, an ancient man cave for the mellow gentlemen of the Old South."

He accepted the two items with a nod and a smile. "My name is Sterling. And thanks for the rescue. This is my first year here at Antebellum House. What's good here? You seem older..."

"Yeah," Ezzard nodded with a grin and smelled the unlit cigar while enjoying the tart aroma. "This is my second year. I'm eighteen years old and will graduate next spring and then I will start college."

Sterling lifted and sniffed the cigar with a smile. "So, this is your second year. Then, you must know all the other new kids that is going to start the new semester with me."

"I guess so."

"I'm new here. You're not. Are any of the new kids local like me?"

Ezzard sipped and swallowed the beverage, turning with a smile and a chuckle to see Sterling. "Why are you so full of questions, son?"

Sterling grinned with a nod while performing the mission assignment and acting like a nosy teenager. "You're older than me. I don't wanna end up inside the wood shed with a beating by a gator belt. My daddy always threatened me with harm but never carried thou," chuckling.

He grinned. "All daddies do that while keeping a redneck boy in line."

"So, what's the point of coming and staying inside an isolated school in the middle of some green colored valley of field crops? It looks boring and dull here. Does Antebellum House have a football team at least?"

Ezzard sniffed the non-lit cigar with a smile and then sipped, swallowing the beverage with a sigh. "The House is very isolated along with all the students. The House is not boring and dull. There is a real purpose of Antebellum House and it is not the annual football national champion title either. The folks here are. Well, I'll show you around, boy. Get up from the chair and walk with me!" He reached over and dropped down the two items over the side table with a grin, slowly standing upright with a nod and moved ahead towards the archway in silence. Sterling turned to face the side table and reached over, placing the tiny whiskey glass on top of the hard surface, storing the unlit cigar inside the pocket of the jacket. Ezzard exited the beau parlor room and stood inside the busy hallway. Sterling dashed out the beau parlor room and stopped next to Ezzard.

Ezzard turned to face the interior of the long hollow corridor and led ahead and from the front porch towards the back lawn, pointing at each object with a smile. "The big hole in the middle of the school building is called a breezeway or a dogtrot. A dogtrot was an ancient design that had been used years ago for ventilation, before the invention of modern day air conditioning." He and Sterling moved ahead and veered deeper down into the nice windy breezeway.

The open hallway was composed of an array of tall and wide clear glass window panes on each side coming down from the roof rafters towards the wooden baseboard with a row of old and weathered rocking chairs. Some of the rocking chairs held a male or a female, who watched the students with a grin in silence.

Ezzard pointed to the first room on the side wall with a smile. "The room on the opposite of the beau parlor room is the belle parlor room for all the girls, but you will not catch me in there ever and never," he slowly moved ahead and stopped beside the next open archway with a smile. "This is the library room with tons of old and new books," he shoved Sterling ahead towards the opposite side of the dogtrot breezeway and pointed at the new archway with a grin. "This is kitchen room with all the good food and cold beverages. It is open at midnight for food snacks also," he shuffled Sterling back towards the other side of the dogtrot breezeway with a chuckle without stopping. "This is a pink room for all the girls." He reached over and stirred Sterling down the rest of the hallway and stopped at the next archway with a grin."

"The chairs are pink colored. I ain't sitting my ass inside on a pink colored chair." Sterling stared into the new room and shook a bald skull with a sour frown.

Ezzard jabbed a finger and a smile into the pink colored classroom. "This is the drawing room. And I don't mean with a colorful crayons or a black marker either."

"It's pink."

"Yeah, it's pink. The chairs are pink colored too." Ezzard smiled at each pink chair.

Sterling frowned. "I ain't sitting my ass inside a pink colored chair."

Ezzard shoved Sterling ahead with a laugh and stopped at the next open archway with a smile. "Yeah, you will sit an ass with me inside a pink chair during classroom time tomorrow. This is the dining room, where we eat with a set of beau table manners. Or you do not eat the meal and you receive a demerit. Do not dare head mistress Symole, boy! You lose each time. She wins every time."

"I like to eat," Sterling nodded with a smile into the dining room.

Ezzard reached out and stirred Sterling away from the dining room archway towards the rear of the hallway to face the manicured grass lawn. "This is the south lawn. There is a winding yellow-bricked sidewalk that is fringed with an array of colored flowers which goes all around the building. Over yonder between the rolling hills in the south, southwest, and southeast directions, there are the outbuildings..."

"Outhouses!" Sterling stared with a confused brow at the row of objects. "I gotta take a shit turd outside on top of the pretty lawn. I thought that the House would have been equipped with modern day running water for flushing all my shit turds down the nice smelling toilet water. How am I supposed to drop a turd in the middle of the night?"

"No. The row of cottages is called a set of outbuildings, not a row of outhouses, Sterling. The outbuildings are kinda like a bunch of service buildings which are tucked into the hillside, where the employees live and work to maintain the campus of Dogtrot Plantation and the pretty lawn and flower grounds which include the hay barns, the horse stables, and a blacksmith shop with equine rigging, harnesses and equipment. All the employees take care of all the carriage houses, the plant and flower greenhouses, a brick house for both clay brick of the outbuildings and replace granite for the main house, a cabinet maker for wood furnishings, a dry cellar for flour, a medical center for sick folks, a smoke house for meats, a dairy barn, a corn crib, a wheat barn, a poultry coop for hens, an ice house, a dog kennel, and a real firehouse. Since we live out here in the real country, there is a real dead cemetery and a mountain that is called Loveless Mountain." Ezzard reached out and spun them around to face the opposite end of the dogtrot hallway, moving ahead and stopped at the new archway with a smile. "This is the ballroom for the school orientation lecture that comes from Mistress Symole. We need to find a seat, before her lecture starts" he strolled inside the large room and towards one of the semi-empty sofa with a girl.

The female was a slender sixteen-year-old petite female with a head of black tinted short pixie, a tone of pale tinted skin, and a pair of violet colored eyes, waving a hand with a smile at Ezzard. He moved ahead with a smile towards her and stopped, spinning around and slid down next to the new female on the sofa. She turned and winked with a smile at the teen male. "Hi, ya'll. I'm Effie," she reached out with a smile and touched the naked bicep on Ezzard. "What's your name, big boy?"

He chuckled with a smile, "Ezzard."

04:04 pm

Ballroom interior setting of funny drapes

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Sterling slowly moved ahead and followed behind the back spine of Ezzard, stopping, sliding down on top of the long sofa beside the petite girl that was flirting with Ezzard only. Sterling cuddled against the armrest and turned with a smile to survey the new room, staring at the entrance doors.

Inside the entrance doors of the ballroom setting, the smiling female stood upright against the door in an overweight and tall body with a tone of pale skin, a bun of grayish blonde colored hair, sixty something years old, saying with a nod to the young female teen. "Welcome to Antebellum House. I am Mistress Symole."

The teen was a female with a tall and slender figure with a tone of pale tinted skin, a head of black colored shoulder length hair, a pair of brown colored eyes, wearing a green colored plantation gown, shaking the hand of Symole with a smile. "I'm Sondra. These are my folks, Mrs. and Mr. Dameron from the metro city of Birmingham which is here in Alabama."

Symole turned with a fake smile and reached out, forcefully shoving the naked arm of Mrs. Dameron away from the open archway, out of the ballroom entrance, and back into the Dogtrot hallway with a smile and a nod. "It is very nice to meet you, Mrs. and Mr. Dameron. Now, it is time for both of you to run along back into the limousine and return back home to Birmingham. Have a nice trip ya'll! Please go inside and take a seat anywhere you can, Miss Sondra. We are beginning the afternoon school orientation," she spun around with a fake smile to see the short free standing black colored podium in front of the wall of windows that contained a set of individual unique curtain drapes and stopped, twisting around the podium to view each new student for the first day of class.

Inside the open archway, Sondra continued to stand against the order of Symole and leaned over, hugging the side of the wooden door frame with a deep sign while waving a hand and a smile to her loving parents. Her parents spun around with a smile and slowly back stepped from their daughter with a hand wave in silence also. Sondra performed the last hand wave with a smile of worry and excitement for the last time, back stepping from the archway, swinging around and disappeared back into the ballroom. Her parents stopped inside the empty Dogtrot hallway with a sigh of worry and excitement for their daughter, slowly spinning around and moved ahead with a set of soft whispers towards their limousine while worrying about their daughter, entering the vehicle and left behind Antebellum House and Sondra for the first day of high school.

Inside the ballroom setting, Symole stood in front of the short podium with a smile and extended both arms to the side which was even with the clean floor. "Welcome to your orientation session here at Antebellum House! May I present my husband Head Master Caleb! May I present me also! I am Head Mistress Symole."

On top of the long sofa inside the ballroom that he shared with cute petite girl, who continued to tickle and flirt with his new Ezzard, Sterling/Cody continued to scan the room and watch a unique set of young adult females, who continued to waltz around the floor of the ballroom in silence. Each young adult female was dressed in a severe black ankle-length long dress with a front white apron that contained three long pockets which trailed down to the kneecaps. The long pockets were used to hold numerous objects. Each female wore a matching black colored cap which decorated with an elastic band that covered the entire skull of the head similar to a girly shower cap for bathing. He chuckled at the unique set of females who served as a set of maids and turned to study the rest of the gigantic ballroom space.

The ballroom was square shaped and painted in white structure which could be utilized for a series of fun dance sessions or a large people meeting. There was not any type of art work on the white painted walls or a set of column pillar that held up the ceiling in the middle of the dance floor. And there was not an expensive crystal chandelier on the ceiling. There were rows and rows of horizontal shaped bright almost blinding fluorescent recessed office light fixtures that greatly illuminated the room and showed off the ugly and mismatched long furniture sofas, where the new student of males and females sat while attending the first day of high school at Antebellum House.

At the short podium in front of the rows of ugly curtain drapes, Mistress Symole dropped down and placed both manicured hands on each side of the speaking podium, turning with a smile and a nod to see most of the new faces of each student. "Antebellum House has survived through the ages like her mistress with charm, courage, and commitment from many, many folks throughout her long, long history, including a couple of bloody battle wars. But, we shall not pursue the past but prepare you for the future. The main house is known as Dogtrot Plantation. First, we are a school for a growing mind and a glowing memory that included our own group of lovely hostesses and hosts who will graduate our school in the month of May for next year.

"Here at the House, you will not find a lavish decorated room of richness but comfort. There is not a single glittering crystal chandelier that is suspended down from the soaring ceiling. There is not an ornamented fancy carved wooden door frame anymore inside the House. There is not an exquisitely detailed frieze molding flowers that growing side to side inside a room, because this is Antebellum House.

"First, we are a school of learning. And second, we are a farm of three thousand acres of field and food crops that stretch as far as the eyeball could see in all geographical directions of north, south, east, and west. The House is surrounded by white cotton plants, a grove of orange trees, which are sour by mouth but yummy in salads. There are numerous peach and apple orchards, a grape vineyard, and an extensive garden of flowers, fruits, and vegetables in front of Dogtrot Plantation, since we farm every part of the soil to benefit the school and the students..."

Sterling stared with a grin at each window starting on farthest side near the wall intersection, working down the row of eight closed curtains. Each window was eight-feet tall by four-feet wide wearing an array of different type of colors and textures that decorated each drape curtain fabric which puddled down like a pool of colored water over the wooden floor.

At the podium, Symole continued to turn and smile at each face. "Dogtrot house and the land property is a self-contained plantation with its own well-water house and chain of food supply. The farm land produces the crops of wheat, corn, oats, rye, and cotton for harvesting and selling along with raising cattle, sheep, horses, chickens, and hogs. The prime green forestland produces timber used for operating the saw mill too. The tall wooden frame building has remained unaltered over the century, decades, and years. The original window panes were used for air ventilation back then and present day now. The heart pine floors endured much back then and present day now. The working fireplaces provide heat in the wintertime back then and present day now also. And most of the wall and ceiling plaster has survived over four years of teens," she chuckled with the students.

On top of the shared sofa, the pair of eyeballs on Sterling/Cody returned back to stare at the first window on the side wall behind Symole. The first window drape overflowed on the wall and the floor and wore a set of green thick velvet curtains. The second posed tall window curtain was designed with a set of white sheer drapery. The third window curtain pattern held a set of geometric electric blue circles on the soft linen. The fourth window drape was comprised of heavy red silk. The fifth curtain covering the window glass displayed a pair of striped black and white sheer drapes. The sixth drape was designed of a yellow and green cotton wool plaid. The seventh curtain was made of solid pink silky rayon that held a floral flower pattern which was weaved into cotton fabric. The eight window curtain portrayed a baby blue background with a set of tan colored sitting birds on top of numerous brown tined tree branches in burlap fabric. There was a set of hot pink flowers on a white background inside an individual unfolding purple tinted hand fans that covered the ninth window curtain. A crimson red paisley print on top of silk was nicely designed on the tenth window drape. A set of blue and white stripes on top of white tinted cotton fabric showed on the eleventh window drape. A set of lavender tinted burlap curtains made up the twelfth window glass. And, finally, the last window treatment which was number thirteen consisted of mint green lace sheer curtain.

Sterling continued to ponder the weird decoration here at the private high school with a set of sissy mismatched curtains with intrigue.

At the podium, Mistress Symole smiled to each face. "The dogtrot grounds are elegant with numerous beautiful arrays of flowers which hold colored azaleas to colored roses. There are numerous food items to eat with tons of hardy fresh-grown fruits, vegetables, and tree nuts which grow tall straight up from the red clay soil. We do not engage in lavish entertainment but do hold a couple of exciting horse races, a few friendly card competitions, some graceful ballroom dance steps, a few fun hay rides, and a nice game of croquet. The croquet lawn flanks..."

"Croquet! That's a sissy game for sissy girls!" The teen male shouted out loud with a chuckle on top of the sofa in the center of the ballroom.

At the podium, Symole turned with a sour frown to face the teen male. "I give one demerit, Master Ween Zillicoffer. If I were assigning demerits today, young beau! But since, we are all still in the first day of orientation session, you are exempted and truly very lucky," she exhaled with a puff of annoyance and a fake smile. "The croquet lawn flanks the plantation home on the eastern side near the water fountain courtyard, where all our young belles and beaus can congregate on the cool autumn evenings for fun. Your private chamber bedroom has a full bath for each student that is located in the garconniere which means 'wing.' There is a belle garconniere on the eastern side of the plantation house and a beau garconniere on the western side by way of a single narrow stair hall with a forty-five feet ceiling that framed the two-sided enclosed staircase for a very specific purpose.

"My last topic for the afternoon is the word, demerits. I promise to give to your eardrums a swift painful deadly lecture on a demerit. When a belle or beau has crossed that invisible line of teen misbehavior within the eyeballs and the eardrums of your school instruction, the particular misbehaving teen student will receive a demerit. When you finally receive a total of ten demerits, you are sent to Detention Isle."

She giggled with a grin to each face. "Detention Isle is a cute name for a place of wild woodlands inside the forest of Leed with a set of real brown colored wolves, multi-colored snakes, black colored bears, yellow colored coyotes, brown spotted deer, black tinted spiders, blue tinted fish, a winding fresh water river, and finally a pink tinted rock coated mountain which is named Loveless. You will spend the night there from suppertime starting at five pm until five am in the morning while scouting for a plate of food, scooting for a cup of fresh drinking water, and sleeping with a body nature. With any type of punishment, there must come any type of reward too. My introduction lecture is completed. We should eat right now. Please stand and walk with an escort into the dining room for dinner after your name is called..."

05:03 pm

Dining room setting of dark and enclosed walls

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Inside the ballroom, Symole had called out loud each female name that had been paired with a male name to travel down into the dining room. Then, Symole led the long parade of new students with her husband as her dinner escort out the ballroom, down the hallway, and turned into the dining room on the side wall.

Inside the dining room, they stopped and stood in front of the head eating table which was perpendicular at the edges of two long columns of numerous individual eating tables that were covered in a fancy tablecloth and a set of numerous pretty plates without the food items. Across from the head table, there was a parallel eating table which was filled with more students who stood upright behind an individual eating chair in a set of whispers and giggles with each other without perturbing Mistress Symole.

At the head table, Symole continued to stand behind her individual dining room chair in the middle of dining room table, turning to see each face with a smile and a nod. "Our first social lesson for the late afternoon starts with the last meal of the day which is spent together inside the dining room for the supper meal. A formal dinner is one of very strict social protocol like an affair of state given by our President of the USA which is an elegant entertainment experience that is usually reserved for a marriage wedding or a birthday anniversary or a dinner banquet or a dance ball. Here at Dogtrot Plantation, we delight and indulge our senses and our high heeled shoes in this rare and exotic arrangement of prepared, cooked, and served course meals like one of many old aristocratic families of the Old South. A formal table setting dazzles along with our formal attire our eyes, our ears, and our tongues with a placemat setting of sparkling crystal, gleaming silver, glistening porcelain, exquisite flora, and a few candles while making your meal both magnificent and memorable. Inside the formal dinner here at Antebellum House, every meal will be a formal affair starting with breakfast and then lunch while ending with supper.

"We had glided out from the ballroom and down into the dining room in a certain order. The host of meal is Head Master Caleb, who will escort the lady of honor into our elegant dining room first and then the remaining belles will enter, who will be escorted by her beau towards her assigned dining room chair. We have provided an individual place card with your name spelled correctly. I can assure you. They are used to eliminate confusion of your assigned dining chair which will not be moved or modified for any reason during school session. The place card designates your place at the formal affair of suppertime, which is based on alphabetic order of your class. The seating etiquette requires that the beau to help the belle seated on his right and then he sits. For an easier flow into the dining room chair, a belle approaches the dining room chair from her right side. When the belle and the belle's plantation dress have been seated, the beau will follow suite..."

The dining room was square shaped in fiery red color coming down from ceiling to the matching wooden baseboards. The U-shaped table design placed an individual eating chair every two feet away from some quick elbow punching room which was mostly exhibited by the rude teen males during each mealtime.

On the side wall, in the middle of the table, sixteen-year-old Sondra looked down with a smile to see her individual place card which had been spelled correctly with her name while standing next to the beau who was named Senn without a last name, when Symole did not bother to call out each last name of every student. Senn had escorted Sondra out from the ballroom and down into the dining room with a set of annoying whispers, when his named had been called out loud by Symole. She leaned over and stared at the new place card while reading the other teen male on her other rib cage, who was named Sterling. She did not attempt eye contact or a tongue wiggle to either Sterling or Senn but stood upright inside the ankle-length dress and a pair of high heeled shoes while listening to a long-winded Symole. She narrowed both eyelashes and turned, studying the new dining room. Each individual dining room chair did not match the other eating chairs or the tablecloth covered dining room table. There was an array of different types of dining room chairs, such like, Queen Anne straight back chairs, Chippendale straighten-legged chairs, Chinese style chairs, French styled harp designed chairs, and numerous straight legged chairs. On the bottom of each leg on each dining room chair, there was a wooden carved design, such like a dragon claw or a rounded ball or an animal paw of varied wood product of light walnut or dark cherry or dark mahogany. Each dining room seat pad showed a silly crayon color which might have been designed and drawn by a first grader such like the array of window drapes.

Sondra pondered the old school and all the other ancient furniture and items like elderly wrinkled Symole and her matching elderly and wrinkled husband Clyde that matched the old and ancient Antebellum house.

At the head eating table, Symole continued to stand behind the dining room chair in the center of the entrance wall of the dining room while making all the students stand and wait for the food like her. She said without breathing. "The dining room of a plantation house is a place of grand ceremony. We duplicate that feeling within our dining room plantation walls painted of merry, with a bright cheery red tint. There is not a single window exposure or a beam of sun lightning into the dining room as we re-enact the same evening meal of our ancestors from many yesterdays. We will eat by candlelight only while keeping the room cool and our appetites wet."

Seventeen-year-old Senn leaned over with a smile into the breasts of Sondra while facing the nose profile of Sterling. "Ugh, man! I hope Sterling ain't a pyromaniac. Then we will be roasting our appetites of burnt pig tonight," he stood upright with soft chuckle.

Sondra continued to stand at attention like a southern belle and hoped that the two juvenile delinquent teenagers would not get her into major trouble of an assigned demerit on the first day of high school, since she didn't want to spend the first night inside the Leed forest.

Sterling leaned over with a grin and a whisper into the breasts of Sondra while facing the nose profile of Senn. "Ah! You tattle out loud my deep dark secret, dude. Now, I have to poof it," he stood upright with a soft chuckle.

At the head eating table, Symole continued to stand and stare at each face. "Proper supper etiquette is learned and not exhibited like a fire camp of cave men barbarians. They are not about following ridge set of rules but making mealtime more pleasant for everyone. So, we have staged our civilized meal with our proper belles and beaus and a gang of wild cats within the jungles of Africa. Let us begin shall we! The belle on your right will be seated by the beau on your left first. So, belle, please sit down into your assigned chair!"

Senn leaned over with a smile and whisper into her eardrum while pulling out her chair from the table edge first. "You're on my right, sweetheart. So, I pull out your eating chair out first. Then, sit down your cute little ass in it for me," chuckling.

Sondra back stepped from the chair and moved ahead, scooting around the back rest, sitting down into a thickly padded Queen Anne dining room chair as Senn scooted around and gently shoved the chair closer into the wooden table with the tablecloth, leaning down into her eardrum for his fun. She whispered out loud for his eardrums with a giggle and a grin, string down at the empty plate, "How do you know that my ass is cute, sir?"

Sterling/Cody had reached over and shoved the eating chair away from the table edge for the ugly teen girl on his right side without assisting her to sit down at the table. Then he back stepped and scooted around the chair, sitting down at the table, leaning over with a smile into her cheekbone. "Because she has a cute button nose, you know what they say about the nose..."

"Damn! Sterling's nostrils are huge..." he gasped with a sour frown. Sterling and Sondra laughed. Senn looked down with a worried brow and gently patted both of his penis balls between the denim jeans with a hand. "I am so sorry, guys. I just insulted my two best friends." Sterling and Sondra continued to laugh.

At the head table, Symole sat down with a smile and turned with a nod to see each face. "Look down at the table. Your personal set of eating forks is located on the left with the curved cloth napkin and the dinner plate in the middle. The knives with the blade tips face the plate plus your set of spoons on the right. The water crystal goblet goes on the top right of the plate, while your tea tumbler goes to the right of your water crystal goblet. Your butter plate is located on the top left of your plate along with its individual butter knife. Yes, the baby knife used for something besides cleaning under your fingernails, Ween. We are practicing our formal dining techniques. Two utensils and not ten fingers are used for the appetizer course, the salad course, the main entrée, the fruit course, and the dessert course."

Senn looked down with a smile at the numerous eating utensils. "Lordy, are we staring a war?"

Sterling looked down with a smile at the same placement setting. "Count me in!"

Senn leaned over with a smile into her cheekbone, "Lookie here at all the nicely polished weapons. There are six forks, six spoons but only four knives. I need more sharp blades. Hey! Can I swap a couple of spoons for your set of sharp knives, Sondra? Since, I am a man and a female can't throw a rock for a toot hoot at a pair of guy's balls."

She looked down with a stern face at the set of shiny silver ammunition. "These are a set eating ware, not a set of warring weapons, sir," she looked up with a sour frown to see him. "What is your name again?"

Senn grinned into her face. "Head Mistress Symole called it out before your name, darling. I am Senn."

"Sin!" Sondra laughed as she mispronounced his name.

Senn growled with a chuckle into her face, "Right, baby! I sin. You sin. We can do the sin together inside my chamber suite, right after dark. That's when I work best at nighttime inside my bed."

She turned with a sour frown to see the nose profile of Sterling. "Is he for real?"

Sterling continued to stare with a smile down at the shiny placement setting. "Yes! He is a real live asshole. I won't "sin" with him, darling. But you can "sin" with me any time of day or night," he looked up and turned with a wink and a smile to see Sondra.

"I'm so blessed to have two jack-holes between the two non-arm rests of my dining room chair," she turned back with a deep sigh of annoyance and stared at the roaming butler. On the opposite side of the room, one of the butlers scooted down the row of tables and then stopped, pouting water into each crystal goblet during the social table manners class.

Senn nodded with a smile at the butler also, "Damn straight and proud of it, too!"

At the head table, Symole continued to sit with a smile and turned to see each face. "During the first course, drinking water is poured out from a water pitcher where the goblet remains on top of the table throughout the meal. A water goblet is filled no more than three-quarters full."

The quiet butler appeared and stood beside the nose profile of Senn, holding a folded white napkin over an arm, where the folded napkin caught each falling array of individual water droplets coming down from the water goblet. After filling the drinking water three-quarters full inside the glass tumbler, he reached over and gently placed the water goblet on the top right of the food plate of Senn.

At the head of the table, Symole continued to sit and fiddled with the food plate, turning to see each student face. "The rules of gracious southern eating start by removing the napkin, placing it inside your lap. A large napkin is to be folded in half first, not wrapped around your neck like a baby bib for serving chimpanzees. And a pair of pointed and bent elbows is to be completely off the table, while the meal is being served. Each food platter served by the food majordomo will flow from the left or on your left, while the beverages come from the right or on your right. Then, each server of food will circle the eating table from your left. Chew with your lips closed. Do not talk with your full of food particles, Ween. Please swallow first and then converse with your neighbor on your right or left and not at the same time..."

Sondra leaned over with a stern face to see the nose profile of Sterling. "Who is Ween?"

"Don't know." Sterling continued to watch the action. The roaming butler poured drinking water down into the water goblet which made Sterling both hungry and thirsty.

She leaned over with a stern face to see the nose profile of Senn. "Who is Ween?"

"He is a hungry brother like me." Senn watched the action. A new roaming butler poured sweet tea down into the tall tumbler which made him hungry and thirsty.

At the head of table, Symole continued to sit and turned to see each student face. "Teaspoon etiquette breaks all the table manner rules. A soiled utensil should never be placed upon the table, after it is used. While drinking your sweet iced tea, the user holds the teaspoon inside the tumbler against the rim with your index finger, where it will remain, until the tumbler is cleared from the table. Please pause between bites of food to give your taste buds time to enjoy the delicious feast. Do not interrupt someone mid-sentence. Say 'excuse me,' if you must leave your meal and the table. Ask for the table item, instead of reaching across the table with your wiggling five fingernails and then across your table mate's plate."

Behind the rear skull of Sondra, the butler appeared and leaned over, shoving a food platter near the nose profile of Sondra, landing the dish on top of the gigantic oval dish in front of her breasts. The dish contained a green tinted artichoke vegetable which was tipped in a set of dull purple leaves.

At the head of the table, Symole continued to lecture to each student. "Pull the leaf away from the artichoke and hold it by the narrow end. Then scrape your teeth along the surface of the leaf..."

"Like a vampire." Sterling grinned down at the appetizer with intrigue.

On the head of table, Symole said. "After you eat the leaves, cut up, and eat the heart."

"I would like to cut and eat your heart, Sondra." Senn leaned over with a smile into the cheekbone of Sondra.

"That is a pookie pick-up line, Senn!" She stared with a worried frown down at the artichoke.

"It was worth a try." Senn reached up and grabbed, lifting and sipped, swallowing the sweet tea with a grin.

"It was worth a trick, you mean." Sondra smiled down at the artichoke vegetable.

"How do you spell the word, pookie, darling?" Sterling continued to stare with a chuckle down at the artichoke appetizer.

"P...u..." Senn smile down at the artichoke appetizer.

At the head of the table, Symole said to each student. "Please lift up the fork on your left. And for goodness sake, do not clutch your fork like a Roman spear. Hold your fork like a pencil with the shank extended between your thumb pad and index and middle fingers. Your ring and your pinky fingers rest inside the palm of your hand. For leverage, the index finger is extended along the back of the fork, as far as, the tines as possible. Hold a knife at the wooden handle cupped in the palm of your left hand along with your middle, ring, and pinky fingers. Place your second finger on the back of the blade. Hold your thumb against the side of the handle."

Sterling lifted up and wiggled both fingers down at the numerous utensils with a smile. "Why there are so many non-warring weapons that hug the left and right side of my big huge plate that can feed Bigfoot?"

"So you can pick the correct mouth tool," Senn grabbed the utensils and attacked the appetizer.

Sterling reached over and picked up the big fork from the table with a smile. "A fork is a fork is a fork, of course. I use a fork and knife big or small to cut my chunks of food. Who in the fuck cares?"

"Go for it, dude!" Senn looked over behind a collar bone with a smirk at the rear wall.

The butler continued to stand against the wooden dark tinted wall like a watch dog which was right behind the back spine of Sterling. Sterling lifted up the dinner fork. Then, the butler silently shuffled ahead from the wall spot and then reached down, violently slamming the hand of Sterling down with a loud thud over the table. The dinner fork dropped below and descended down to the floor with a soft ping. Sterling turned and snarled at butler. The butler faked a smile into the cheekbone of Sterling. "You used the wrong fork, sir. Please use the appetizer fork. It is the baby one on the far side of your dinner plate, sir." The butler magically produced a new clean and sanitized dinner fork from a side pocket of the dinner jacket, replacing the fallen one on top of the eating table, scooting silently back into the dark shadows.

Sterling turned and sneered at the nose profile of the teen, "Senn!"

Senn reached down and touched, grabbing and working the set of correct appetizer fork and knife on the artichoke with a chuckle, "Yes, Sterling, darling."

"Hell! Tell me right the next damn time, man!" Sterling snarled.

"You didn't ask that particular question, dude." Senn ate and chomped on the green leaves with a mouth open.

"I don't think that Senn needs this class," she picked on the vegetable with the fork and a smile.

Senn mouth spat with used food particles, "Naw. I like table buddies when I'm being both tormented and tortured, too."

At the head table, Symole leaned over and worked on the artichoke with a smile. "The salad course is served in its own plate first and then the butler will come around with a cheese tray, toasted crackers, and butter served at room temperature. Then you whisper your preference and then he will make it so. He places two crackers on the right side of the salad plate then slices a small pat of butter below the crackers. You can use the butter from your bread, but the salad butter has been perfected with acidic quality of the salad dressing that compliments the salad meal," she ate and chewed the food.

"Done! What is the next food course?" Senn reached down and placed the set of dirty utensils inside the dirty but clean plate with a nod and a smile, turning with a confused brow to see the closed kitchen doorway of the kitchen, where the butler and all the food trays lived.

"You're a pig, Senn." Sterling slowly cut up the artichoke with the correct utensils.

"Oink! Oink!" Senn lifted up and wiped off the food stains from a sticky mouth with the fabric cloth napkin, returning back to see the dirty plate and then the nose profile of Sondra. "And I'll dance a jig to get more food quickly, quicker, and more quickly out from the kitchen oven and stove top. My elder ninety-year-old grandmother serves me faster inside her kitchen counter than this place. This rabbit food ain't filling for a growing boy. Do you want to tango with me later in my suite, Sondra, working up a midnight snack of cheese and wine?"

"No." Sondra stared down at the artichoke while chewing the food.

Senn chuckled. "She's only hungry. Belles get grouchy, when hunger. I'll round back later with my sexy proposition of fucking, doll."

At the head table, head mistress Symole said out loud to each student. "Hot and cold breads are served dry in a low container which is lined with a linen doily. The butler will remove the roll from the container and lay it upon your bread plate. You have a butter dish in front of the bread plate for slathering your pleasure."

Senn leaned over with a smile into her cheekbone. "I like slathering your pleasure, now, Sondra. I like that new concept, babe. We should create some new slathering moves..."

"Shut it, Senn!" Sterling chewed and swallowed the food, finishing the tiny salad.

The butler appeared and stopped, leaning down into the cheekbone of Senn while offering one single pone out from the basket of golden cornbread pieces at Senn's throat. "Would you care for a piece of bread, sir?"

Senn grinned down at the empty plate. "Please, I want four great big ones. I'll really hunger."

"I am placing one cornbread pone on top of the bread plate for you, sir." The butler leaned down and placed the skinny one inch by three inched bread piece on top of the dish of Senn, standing upright and side stepped to Sondra with a stern face.

Across the dining room, a male voice loudly echoed the words in the air waves. "I want another piece."

At the head table, Symole looked up with a frown to see the male teen. "I am assigning one demerit to you, Master Ezzard."

"Who's that asshole?" Sterling looked up with a pair of narrowed eyelids while scanning the dining room for the other male teen.

"It is our first victim of misbehaving," Senn chewed. "When a certain number of demerits are awarded, the student gets dumped out into the Leed woodlands with the pack of hunger wolves. Ezzard Cutshaw, his great-cubed granddaddy was a southern Confederate General, who reported directly underneath General Robert E. Lee," he held and dripped the hot butter over the plate from the corn pone.

"Great- cubed granddaddy?" She slaughtered, instead slathered the piece of cornbread with tons of real white soft butter with the dull baby butter knife in a left hand and then ate the delicious bite-sized piece with a right hand. Her tummy agreed the mouth of Senn that the food service was too slow as she grew more hunger for the bigger entree meal.

"You know great-great-great granddaddy, the great is three times or cubed like in mathematics." Senn sipped and swallowed the sweet tea with a smile.

"O. That's good to know." She swallowed the food while feeling unsure, since the new teens, the new school, and the new table manners had her a little uptight and tense. She shoved the food into a mouth with a cloth napkin in a lap, and the right fork in a left hand while wondering why her parents decided to their only child from the cozy high school and then placed their daughter here in the middle of a woodlands forest. Sondra must have pissed her parents off while doing something really stupid.

At the head of table, Symole chewed and swallowed the food with a smile. "The main course is filled with a combination of foods, consisting of a meat, a starch, a few vegetables, and a nice green garnish. The butler presents to you a variety of sauces and condiments which are all served in a sauceboat that is carried on top of a salver. Please whisper your preference into the eardrum of the butler. He will slaughter your delight upon the meat. The wine, in this situation, the red colored grape juice will be poured. If you do not want to taste the grape juice, please announce it to the butler. Then, he will return the wine glass back into the kitchen and replenish your water goblet. Enjoy your entrée meal tonight, teen belles and beaus."

"Would you care for a glass of wine, sir?" The butler appeared and leaned down into the nose profile of Senn.

"Please fill it to the brim." Senn nodded with a smile.

The butler reached over and filled the tumbler with the red colored grape juice with a stern face.

05:23 pm

Dessert entree

At the head table, Symole continued to sit and turned with a smile to see each face. "Before the butler slides a dessert plate at you, he will present a tiny finger bowl and sit on top of your oversized platter. Do yourself a favor and wash the tips of your finger pads. You will wash only the two index fingers and two middle fingers from handling any greasy fork tines or bread slices."

The butler appeared and leaned down, placing a finger bowl of water on top of the oval platter. Senn reached down with a giggle and playfully splashed all finger pads inside the individual tiny ceramic ivory dish of warm clear soapy water with a chuckle. Sondra turned with a giggle to watch Senn while gently cleaning a set of four fingers, not ten.

Sterling fingered across her breasts at Senn with a smile. "I say, demerit. The child needs a demerit over here, butler."

Senn lifted up the fingers from the finger bowl of water with a smile and reached over, grabbing the steak knife with a chuckle, aiming the blade at one of the wet fingernails. "Shut it, Sterling! I need to concentration when cleaning the cuticles with a sharp object."

The butler appeared and leaned over into the cheekbone of Senn with a stern face. "Sir, I require your steak knife for its bathe time in the kitchen."

Senn slowly lifted up and surrendered a dirty steak knife into the air to the butler, before the pointy blade touched and clean the dirty from one of his fingernails with a sour frown. Sterling and Sondra softly laughed.

"Don't pull out your hunting knife here on the dining table, either, Senn!" Sterling reached down and gently dipped all fingers down into the warm water with a smile.

"Ah shit! All rednecks think alike." Senn reached over and touched, grabbing a handful of peanuts out of the plate of nuts with a smile.

"Amen to your redneck mama and daddy!" Sterling wiped off both the hands with the cloth.

At the head table, Symole wiped off a pair of wet hands after cleaning her fingernails, turning with a smile to see each face. "Once you have cleaned your sticky and particular finger pads, use the new handy napkin to wipe down both of your hands and then fold the napkin in half, covering the water of the bowl to prevent any spillage upon your shoes or your dress. The butler will return to collect the finger bowl of water and then will glide your dessert dish in front of your frog-bugging eyeballs."

Senn reached down and dunked the set of salty fingers back down into the cold soapy and dirty finger bowl for a second time while viciously splashing all his digits, her dress, and his blue jeans while acting like a two-year toddler inside the bathtub. Sondra cringed from the wetness with fury, "Senn!" Senn jerked all the fingers out from the finger bowl into the air while sprinkling the air, his lap, and her dress again with a snigger.

The butler magically appeared and kindly dropped down a small warm towel over the pair of wet dripping hands, before Senn inflamed more of the sweet belles on the other side.

Senn held both hands with the new warm towel and turned with a smile to see her cheekbone, "Sorry, babe! You can take your dress off inside my private chamber room. Then, I can clean the soiled food for it. Or you can take it all off in my private chamber room. Then, I can clean your..."

"Stow it, Senn!" Sterling frowned with annoyance down at the dessert plate.

At the head table, Symole turned with a smile to see each face, "Fruit course..."

"Geez! Did See-moley just say that we are going to do the fuck course here inside the dining room and at our eating table? I'm in. But, I thought that was after dessert inside me," Senn chuckled at the cheekbone of Sondra.

"Hush it, Senn!" Sterling turned and smiled at the funny reference at the cheekbone of Sondra.

At the head table, Symole continue to see each face with a smile. "Table manners require a fruit plate with a variety of compotes of glazed fruit, dark chocolates, and mixed nuts while utilizing a set of special eating utensils. A fruit fork and a fruit knife are used much like a fish fork and a knife while peeling the meat from the seed and then gently lifting the fruit up to your tongue," she ate and chewed the glazed fruit first of any person with a smile, "Hmm!"

Senn exhaled with a huff of frustration while watching the head table. Head mistress Symole drooled with a smile over the shiny fruit. He shook a skull with a sour frown. "I wanna go first, one day."

"Shut it, Senn!" Sterling reached down and lifted up the correct utensil from the left side of the plate with a smile while turning to see Sondra. She had duplicated the same motion of Sterling, so the butler would not bat down his hand again.

Senn nodded down with a smile at the dessert dish. "It turns me on while watching that bitch consume her food first."

"Hush, Senn!" Sterling peeled back the shiny green skin of the fossilized pear, since he was still hunger for a rare T-bone steak, instead of a shiny pear.

At the head table, Symole turned with a smile to see each face. "The dessert course might seem easier but has its own manners. The dessert is prepared in the kitchen, while the butler clears items from your placement setting that does not relate to the dessert course like nasty crumbles from your table, but not from your mouth, Ween."

Sondra turned to scan the dining room with a sour frown without a mouth full of food. "Who is Ween? Is that a girl or a boy?"

Sterling stared down at the dessert plate while impatiently watching for the order to charge. "I do not know."

"What is a 'Ween,' Senn?" Sondra leaned over with a whisper into the cheekbone of Senn.

Senn stared down at the dessert dish with a smile. "Ween is a student over there on the other side of the room. He is inside the student class, before us."

At the head table, Symole turned to see each face. "The dessert is a strawberry and vanilla rainbow parfait which is preserved in a tall narrow glass that brought to you and placed on the platter," she consumed the first bite with a smile.

Sterling reached down and grabbed the dessert spoon while aiming down at the cool dessert. "Where are all the strawberries inside my parfait? I thought fruity dessert contained at least one or four pieces of fruit," he dug the spoon down into the smooth liquid with a smile.

"Inside my private sleeping suite, I will see you there later at around eight," Senn chewed and swallowed the food with a grin. "You can bring the chocolate drops, darling. Then, we'll have a good time..."

"Stow it, Senn!" Sterling ate and chewed the smooth fruitless sissy dessert.

Senn stood upright from the chair and leaned over, assisting Sondra out of the chair with a smile like a southern gentleman.

She stood upright from the chair and back stepped from the table, turning to face the open doorway, waddling towards the archway and ran into his elbow with a giggle from her bad belle maneuver inside the fluffy gown. Sondra slowly waddled ahead through the open archway which is wide enough for maneuvering the wide plantation dress and a handsome beau into the Dogtrot hallway. Then, they both slowly turned to face the front porch and slowly made a final waddle while following a flock of colorful dress hems and their associated beau towards the front porch of the Dogtrot hallway.

Then, each couple stopped at the end of the Dogtrot Hallway and then parted while the male turned and entered the beau parlor room.

Head mistress Symole elegantly swung the dress tail in the opposite direction of her husband without finger pointing at the open archway, since finger pointing was a set of very rude manners in the South for some reason. She smiled into the new room. "At this time, you may attend the powder room or join me inside the parlor room. A parlor room is a social gathering to discuss various topics from babies to zebras," she waddled into the room with a smile.

07:05 pm

Pink tinted belle parlor room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

All the females turned to face an open archway and followed behind the fat ass on Symole, entering the room and slowly scattered towards a loveseat inside the belle parlor room. The room was square shaped and covered in tall columns of wallpaper in green vines and colorful flowers. There were various colored and furniture styles with a set of sitting loveseats and long sofas that went around a variety of low and small coffee tables. The set of loveseats and long sofas displayed in various color and style like the entire room came from a number of antique shops throughout Alabama.

In front of the belle parlor room, a single loveseat stood along where Symole scooted around and back stepped, sitting down onto the soft cushion while referencing a long table against of wall with cups and plates without fingering as a rude southern belle behavior. "The chambermaid will pour out for you a cup of coffee or hot tea. Please vocal your preference along with the desired consistence of the mixture with or without sugar or crème."

Sondra moved ahead towards a small circular loveseat that curved around similar to an elegant body of a swimming swan. The loveseat could easier accommodate her body and her dress as she stopped and seated on top of the cushion like a southern belle.

A young smiling chambermaid appeared and leaned down into the eardrum of Sondra and wore a plain black ankle-length dress which went down to the ankle bones. She curtsied down to Sondra with a fake smile. "Would you like a cup of hot coffee or a teacup of strong tea, miss?"

Sondra turned with a smile to see the chambermaid. "I would like a teacup of tea in the color of black with a tablespoon of white sugar without milk crème, please. Thank you, miss!" She returned back to see each girl on top of a near loveseat on each side of Sondra which surrounded the square table.

The chambermaid returned back with a food tray and stopped, leaning down with a smooth baby blue porcelain teacup with a matching saucer next to the right hand of Sondra, turning with a fake smile to see the next teen female for a beverage order.

Symole reached down and grabbed, lifting up the teacup and the non-matching saucer in one hand, sitting on top of the green and purple tinted tree leaves that clashed with her ugly dull brown plantation dress. The side wall showed the beaming rays of a sunset coming through each low positioned glass window panes on the front porch and the pretty view of the neatly manicured lawn and flower gardens. You can hear the sounds of the rowdy males which continued to seat across the breezeway, since the belle parlor room was too quiet as the chambermaid filled the individual order of tea requests.

Symole continued to stare with a smile at each face. "The beaus are inside their private parlor room too. In olden time, the room was used to entertain your visiting guests at your manor. The beaus were commonly separated from the belles after suppertime, because they engaged in cigar smoking which would not be here during the modern days. Many of the belles did not participate or tolerate the smell of cigar smoke which will not be consumed here during the modern days. Their butler rotates around the room also while offering coffee or tea or a brandy. However, brandy will not be consumed by tongue or nostrils here during the modern days. They possess a similar walnut sideboard slightly laid out different from ours with brands of cigars. Each belle will never ever attend inside the beau parlor room back then and not now, since you have your own place of entertainment with your herd of girlfriends."

On the separate long sofa near the side wall, "That is not correct, girlfriend! Alcohol is consumed here by me and you and her and she during the modern days," the female was a petite body frame with a tone of pale tinted skin, a head of short blonde hair, a set of curled up lips with a wicked smile, occupying a loveseat next to Sondra.

Symole said to each girl with a smile. "Our walnut black sideboard which is a piece of elegant furniture for entertaining purposes contains tiny pieces of assorted fine white or dark chocolate candies also. Just inform the chambermaid that you would like a small dish of assortment and it will be provided."

The long black sideboard table was made from the popular Alabama walnut trees, where parts of the legs showed the red flaming resin. There was dried yellow candle wax on top of the white linen cloth which came from the melting and flaming individual candles that probably was used in the year 1862 too. The table held an array of items including an array of small trays, teacups, and tea saucers with a set of tiny teaspoons on one side and a tall stack of dark brown chocolate mini-squares on the other side of the polished wooden hard surface.

On the separate loveseat, Sondra lifted up a hand in the air as the chambermaid turned around and leaned down to Sondra with a fake smile. Sondra smiled. "I would like to taste three pieces of pure delight." The chambermaid nodded in silence and spun around from Sondra, moving ahead towards the long table on the entrance wall. Then the chambermaid returned back to Sondra with a dish of candies, resting the candy near the teacup of Sondra. Sondra reached down and touched, grabbing and popped the candy into an open mouth. The semi-sweet chocolate melted on top of the tongue and then slowly drained down the esophagus into a full tummy of good food. Sondra would sleep very well tonight with a filled stomach while dreaming of Sterling or Senn or both while sounding with a soft giggle of amusement.

The tall female was a set of big breasts on a plump body frame with a long red ankle-length dress with a tone of dark tinted skin, a pair of brown colored eyes and a head of black colored hair, smiling at the other female. "I'm Constance. You don't wear your gloves whilest drinking your tea, Lillard. That is a very proper old-fashioned belle habit, but this is the new age of belles in America," Constance smiled with a nod.

The tall and skinny female was with a set of big breasts, a tone of pale tinted skin, a head of blonde colored hair and a pair of brown colored eyes, smiling at Lillard. "I am Tancy, ya'll. It is very nice to meet, ya'll. Did I hear that you hail from the great US State of Pennsylvania?"

"I am from the US State of Vermont." Lillard faked a smile to each other teen girl and sipped, swallowing the tea with a pair of red gloves.

The short blonde female sneered. "Her great-great-great grandfather served in the Eighth Vermont Calvary. Am I right, darling?" She sipped and swallowed the tea with a grin.

Lillard turned and nodded to each teen female. "Yes, my family name served in the War of the Rebellion."

The short blonde girl snarled at Lillard. "So, your family is name Lillard. Does that longer fancy version of bitter foul word mean, lard-butt?" She giggled with a smile alone.

Constance frowned at the short female. "Effie! The girl beside me is named Effie, who doesn't have a single belle manner in her bones as the current white trash of the South. I should know. Her family clan serves as our..."

"Southern bitch!" Effie reached down and pressed the dress with a sneer at Constance with a sneer, "My daddy is a billionaire oilman in the US State of Texas. Her mama is in our lawyer." Constance nodded with a smile and then sipped on the teacup.

The petite female possessed a head of long black colored hair, a tone of olive tinted skin, a pair of brown colored eyes and wore a sour frown at Effie and then Constance. "Please present a set of belle manners, please!" She smiled with a nod. "I am Iris Lee. I'm happy to be here and meet and greet other belles, too."

Effie frowned. "Why Lordy? Lillard doesn't exhibit any single social grace that doesn't resemble my gopher in the backyard of my home back in the US State of Texas."

"I read that a pair of gloves is to be worn at all times," Lillard sipped and swallowed the tea with a fake smile.

"A pair of gloves is used to cover her two calloused hands," Effie giggled.

Constance frowned with puzzlement. "What are you gossiping about, Effie?"

Effie rudely pointed at the gloves with a grin. "Her hands look at her naked hands."

"Take off your gloves, Lillard!" Iris Lee turned and frowned at Lillard.

"No." Lillard sipped and swallowed the tea with a fake smile.

"She is afraid of the truth," Effie nodded with a grin.

"No." Lillard continue to sip and swallow the tea with a fake smile.

"Then, you can take off your right glove." Constance nodded with a smile.

Lillard exhaled with a puff of frustration and reached down, gently sitting down the tea cup and the non-matching saucer on top of the wooden table and then reached up and removed her glove. She reached out and presented a naked hand to Effie.

Effie giggled with a nod at the naked hand of Lillard "See? I told you so."

Tancy examined the naked hand with a confused brow. "I do not see anything. Except that you, Lillard, shore do need a fingernail manicure and some baby blue polish badly, new girlfriend," she winked with a smile and then sipped, swallowing the tea.

Effie exhaled with a puff of annoyance and lifted both naked hands near a sour frown. "The width of her fat hand is broader and thinner than mine. Since, she is constantly running a set of working errands for her mama and keeping a steadily pace of movement all day and night for her daddy by grasping objects like maybe a hard and rough and stiff cardboard box that is too large and heavy for a pair of delicate hand on a belle. A belle hand is plump, soft, and used for stroking the bread stick of her beau and I do not mean a loaf of white bread. She is a field mouse, of course, as she works inside her daddy's warehouse like a paid employee." A sound of soft gasps came from the other teens.

Lillard jerked back both hands down into the lap and covered them with the gloves again with a fake smile. "I am learning my family business which requires me to work the same tasks for my father, because I love my family. I don't see what your saying has to do with my manual labor or my hands, girlfriend. I am a teen like you, Effie."

"Is she is a peasant or a princess?" Effie stood upright from the long sofa and moved ahead, strolling towards a set of new loveseats with different teen girls.

Sondra leaned over with a smile and a whisper to Lillard, in which she did not want any demerits from head mistress Symole. "Ignore the bitch, Lillard! Something is stuck up her ass so far, that it has died and fermented like a good bottle of Scotch. This is one of my daddy's favored vocal sayings. I'm Sondra. I work too on my daddy's farm. I can jack a pickup, jack a horse saddle, and jack a bunny rabbit, only if my coon dog is with me," she giggled with Lillard. "Do you feel better, girlfriend?"

Lillard looked down at the red colored gloves that covered her hands and the dress with a fake smile. "Thank you! I do feel a little better," she exhaled with a puff of worry and looked up to see Sondra. "I was worried about coming here to Antebellum House. I'm not a southern. I'm a..."

"...Yankee. It is just a single word, Lillard. You know the famous axiom. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never harm me." Sondra smiled with a nod.

Lillard exhaled. "A stone bruise heals a lot faster to the leg than a sour word to the heart. I only came here to Antebellum House, because my parents thought the name of the school on a future college application would get me a good scholarship into the local university. College is hard to enter without a set of big bucks or big balls. I really plan to stay until holiday break. But that is our little secret than I am going back home to Vermont back to my high school there. I plan to graduate and attend Vermont University while graduating in computers."

"That is an excellent field of study, Lillard. You live in Vermont also." Sondra smiled while trying to make her new friend feel better.

"I have lived in the same small town forever," she turned with a worried brow to see the other girls.

Sondra nodded with a smile at the nose profile of Lillard. "Look! Don't let Effie ruin your plans or your stay. I'm here too for the longer haul. My parents graduated from here which means that I gotta stay and play. But believe me! I do not play by their rules," giggling.

She exhaled. "Sometimes, I feel. I think that I'm not supposed to be here," she looked down with a worried brow to see the dress hem that covered the shoes.

Sondra frowned. "That is a sentence of Effie, which is not yours. She touched a tender spot. Just forget about Effie! I know that I do. I know. We can meet inside my room, after our tea lesson is finished for some fun girl talk."

She looked up with a smile to see Sondra. "I'm interested in seeing your room. Does it look like mine? I have a great big canopy bed with green and white ruffles."

Tancy turned and frowned at Sondra. "What will we do there in your room? There is only a lousy laptop that does not provide global interact access connection into the world and a small television without no program shows for entertainment, and a teacup set of orange and yellow flowers on a silver tray. I don't like to drink hot liquids, only cold beverages."

Sondra smiled with a wink to each girl. "We will talk about boys," giggling.

In front of the room on top of the ugly purple and brown loveseat, Symole turned with a smile to see each face. "May I have your full attention, belles! Our night has ended. Please tarry back to your individual bed chamber. You may follow me out this doorway and then walk around the front portico," she stood upright from the loveseat without the tea cup and the non-matched saucer. All the different chambermaids moved around each table while collecting all the dirty items from each teen girl onto the hand tray with a fake smile.

Effie stood upright from the new sofa and moved ahead, slapping a sandal on top the wooden platform with a grin and stopped, pointing into the darkness of the enclosed staircase. "The staircase is the most direct route to our suites. Isn't that right, head mistress Symole?"

Symole slowly swung around with a puzzled brow to see the back spine of Effie. "Yes, Miss Effie! But the staircase is haunted by the set of three roaming spirits, who are named Miss Peggy Sue, Miss Anita Mae, and Miss Connie Lee..."

"Poppy cock!" Effie continued to stare with a smirk into the dark staircase.

Lillard leaned over with a whisper and a stern face into the cheekbone of Sondra. "Do you think this is a rigged funny display for a set of bad belles, Sondra?"

"I do not know." Sondra stared at the back spine of Effie while wondering if she was bold enough to enter the dark tunnel which measured a total of thirty-six steps of high terror. Her mom had told Sondra about the staircase, when her mother had attended at Antebellum House with the set of three she-ghosts too.

Effie jabbed a finger with a smile into the darkness. "Am I dis-encouraged to use the staircase, Mistress Symole?"

Symole continued to stare with a smirk at the back spine of Effie. "No, child! You are most encouraged to try the staircase. I'll be waiting here below to see, if you succeed. I have found in past classes over the years that not one belle has dared and climbed successfully this staircase, since..."

The unnamed petite female possessed a tone of dark tinted skin and a red colored hair, standing upright from the long sofa of yellow and red daisy flowers with a grin. "I concur. A couple of belles have tried but were turned back by the dum, dum, dum of fear. Go for it, girlfriend!" She giggled with the other females.

Effie lifted up and planted a sandal on the top of the first wooden step with a nod. "I will be the first belle," she moved ahead and then disappeared behind the solid beige wall of paint while yelling out loud with a giggle. "I am going to step two. Step three. Step four. Step five. All is well, ya'll. I'm stepping on step number six. Ah shit!" She screamed out loud and then the room went silent. She stomped up the next step number seven. "Ya'll are a set of stupid ghosts! I'm fine, ya'll. I'm on step eight and now I am on step nine. Ah!" She screamed out loud and then went silence. The sandals of Effie stomped back down and emerged with a pair of wide set pupils and a pair of parted lips with ugly dripping mouth spit. The mouth spit was falling down her chin and as she cried with a tears and screamed with an array of snot drips coming down a pair of two nostril holes. She rapidly hustled towards the open archway with a gasp. "I lead," Effie disappeared into the night as a set of girly chuckles echoed from each girl.

Symole frowned at Effie. "Belles, you can take a dare. Or you can shut your trap." The room went silence. She smiled with a nod. "Now, it is time to retire to your private chambers. You are allowed to stay up for two more hours, but you must be very quiet and very respectful of your school mates. If not..."

"Demeritville..." Constance yelled out loud with a smile.

Symole turned and nodded with a smile to Constance. "I will award one demerit to you, Miss Constance." The room went silence. She swung around with a smile to face the open archway and moved ahead with a soft giggle while leading all the teen female back through the doorway. All the teen girls moved ahead in the formation of one-by-one and two-by-twos through Dogtrot Hall and then spun around to face the wrap-around portico on the east side of the Dogtrot Plantation.

08:03 pm

Private bedroom setting of Sondra

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Her bedroom displayed an ivory colored bedspread between a set of four tall posts on the bed frame and as she reached up and yanked down a thick and pretty bedcover on top of the bed mattress with the pillows, pulling and tossing the bedcover onto the floor like a teen. She reached up and ripped off the long dress down from the naked collar bone while moving ahead, entering the wardrobe closet and stopped in the middle of the room. She lifted a leg and tossed off a shoe and then the dress like a teen.

She moved around in semi-nakedness in a girly throng towards the built-in chest of drawers and stopped, shifting open the drawer, pulling out a pair of warm pink flannel pajamas with the set of colored cupcakes that made her feel ill after eating all the good food with a full tummy. Sondra decided not to provide a selection of food refreshments for all of her invited guests to her room, since they had finished the suppertime meal a few minutes ago.

She spun around and moved ahead, jumping into the air and landed on top of the set of soft blankets and the other pillow, testing the softness. She back slid from the bed mattress and stood upright with a giggle, dragging off the set of soft blankets, yanking down all the blankets down onto the floor for her nightly visitors including the pillows and bend down over the floor, scattering all the linen items around the room with a smile.

She stood upright from the floor and moved across the room, stopping and stared through the glass windows, seeing an array of yellowish-white stars that hung below hidden heaven and an almost full moon of orange tint. She dropped both eyelashes down to see the manicured lawn and flower gardens that shined through the beams of white moonlight. Inside the manicured yard, there was not erected a set of tall poles of bright flood lights like on the city street of her house or her high school stadium during a sporting game. This was the strangest academic campus on planet Earth.

Sondra did not see any other type of outside lightning but the bright moon that orbited 238,900 miles give or take a mile or two as it passed around the planet Earth. She narrowed the eyelashes and searched any peek of dim artificial lights that came from one of the worker outbuildings or any private homes that stood quietly peaceful against the shadow of the mountain range and then see something.

A fist knock disturbed her visual concentration.

She reached up and slammed the thick curtains shut while closing out all the invaders with a puzzled brow, spinning around and raced to the closed door, slamming into the wood with a giggle. She reached out and opened the door as a cold sweaty bottle floated into her eyeballs.

Constance extended the beverage with a smile. "Here is a toast to our hostess with the mostess for starting our first belle meeting!" Sondra accepted the cold beverage with a smile and a nod, back stepping for the open archway while allowing the invited guests to enter. Constance moved ahead and selected a place to sit, sliding down over the part of bedcover with a smile, sipping on her own beverage.

Tancy followed behind the back spine of Constance while holding an open beer bottle, wearing a pair of blue colored robes and matching a set of long pajamas with a smile. "Why are all the outbuildings off limits to belles?" She moved ahead and stopped, sitting in front of the bed frame with a grin, sipping the cold beverage.

Constance smiled. "I do not know."

"I know," Iris Lee held a beer bottle and entered behind Tancy, stopping and parked on top of the one of the soft blankets with a smile to see the other girls. "About two years ago, a belle for some silly reason went into one of the outbuildings then she got expelled from Antebellum House."

Tancy nodded with a smile, "That is noted and locked up forever! You won't catch me near the outhouses or the dead people cemetery. Is the rock mountain off limits too for a belle or two?"

Iris Lee turned and winked with a grin at Tancy. "No and yes! But, the answer if mostly no. I'm not supposed to tattle tale, but you'll be hearing the rumors and not from me," giggling.

Lillard entered behind another belle and stopped, sitting on top of the blanket in front of the nightstand without a beer bottle, turning to stare at each face with a puzzled brow. "Is the stairwell haunted?"

Iris Lee smiled with a nod. "Legend tells that the slash marks were permanently embedded into the belle's wooden staircase which was made by a real live mean British officer during the Revolutionary War. He attacked and murdered the helpless maid of the garconniere while protecting her little belles."

"Wow! Your curves are girly." Constance reached out and touched the numerous horizontal ivory colored ruffles drapes on the bed post.

"O my gawd! You're gay." Tancy dropped open a mouth in shock at Constance.

Constance turned and winked at Tancy. "No. I am heading straight for your sweet beau, girlfriend. I'm commenting on Sondra's lovely curves and draping ruffles on her canopy bed frame. She possesses a set of ivory chenille coverlets too. I like your ivory double row of curtains which are tied with a great big ivory tassel. It looks very royal like a real princess," she spun around with a smile and sipped, swallowing the beer with a grin.

Iris Lee smiled. "Mine is a modern bed with a silver steel stainless four posts bed frame but the silver colored footboard is low to the floor about one inch with a secret hidden compartment for my pink lace panties. The bedspread is a geometric yellow vertical thick line on half then red thick lines on bottom, really cool."

Tancy smiled. "I have a canopy frame that looks like a bell-shape with a set of hot orange sheer lace ruffled foo-foo curtains which are tied at four ends of each post and then puddles down to the wooden floor. The bedspread is a big gigantic hot orange sunflower and then a big gigantic yellow sunflower with a beige background. Neat to meet too!"

Constance smiled. "I got four poles of black mahogany wood that shine in a lacquer finish with a set of pure white lace curtains that puddle and hang down over each poster pole down to the floor, but my bedspread is black and white leopard print. I do like a lot."

Lillard smiled. "I have a bedroom suite of pretty yellow teak wood. Teak wood comes from the country of Sweden. The bed frame has a set of four arrow-like tall posts that forms an arched canopy tent. My dark navy bedspread is covered in a set of little tiny white dots which is very pretty to my eyeballs. The canopy fabric is dark blue sheer silk," she reached down and pats her silk robe in dark blue also.

"I see. Your bedspread matches your pajamas. Are you a trying to become a nun or something, honey?" Tancy giggled with a smile.

Lillard smiled. "I placed dark blue as one of my color schemes with rose red and violet purple on the paper application to Antebellum House."

"What paper application?" Sondra spun around with a confused brow and moved ahead, sitting on the edge of the blanket in front of the closed door.

"The paper application, I had filled out too." Lillard smiled.

"I didn't fill out shit." Constance frowned.

Tancy smiled. "Your parents filled out the paper application. Since my mama turned my paper application into the school without my knowledge and then pleaded for me to attend, which I did only, because I love my mama."

Iris Lee smiled. "We all love our parents, because that is a Holy Bible rule that I follow with love too."

"Obey your parents is the Bible commandment," Lillard smiled.

"Part of obeying your parents says to love both of your parents too," Tancy grinned.

Sondra frowned at Tancy. "Who sent you here to Antebellum House, Tancy?"

Constance exhaled with a puff of annoyance. "You don't wanna be here, either, Sondra."

Sondra nodded. "I was shown one of my fancy long dresses and then told that I would be wearing them as my new dress code at my new school."

"That's odd! I was told last year that I would attend Antebellum House, working with my mama to make all the necessary preparations," Iris Lee grinned.

"Well then, your mama is truly a loving mama which is not like mine." Constance frowned.

Sondra turned and scanned her room with a stern face. "Doesn't it seem weird that there is not a fancy glass-cut chandelier, only vertical fluorescent lighting that burns your eyeballs and no throw pillows for beauty in my girly bedroom, or a small crystal lamp for decoration on my desk top? My bedroom at my grandmother's house is much nicer than this. I expected Antebellum House to exhibit, well, all types of antebellum stuff, like zillions and zillions of old antiques. Most of the furniture is modern or old while needing polishing or trashing."

Constance nodded. "Antiques are valuable objects for rare collectors. Or they are horded by the family clan for giving to their young'uns at Christmas time or to a young couple for a wedding present. That is a Southern tradition that has lasted for centuries and centuries and centuries."

Iris Lee nodded. "The floor to ceiling window units look like the black and white pictures that come from my American History textbook that I used in high school last year. That's like an antique part of this old building. I read that the tall windows are opened during the spring and autumn times to admit cool air from the porches flowing across the room. The column along the front portico stretched up into a plain wide frieze. A plain wide band runs across the front of the house then above that is the gable roof. The gable roof is two sloped roofs that formed a triangle in the front with a circular air vent for the attic. The box shaped house has a breezeway in the center of the façade. There is no grand stairway or a formal ball room or a decorative pilasters or a set of mock tall columns of nothing to do fun things around. The high ceilings and multiple stories allowed the heat to rise. The covered balconies and porches allowed folks to sit in the shade enjoying the outside..."

Tancy grinned. "Iris Lee is smart. We need to look and cheat off all her academic tests."

"Why are there she-ghosts here at Antebellum House?" Constance sipped and swallowed the beer with a grin.

Lillard nodded. "The performance was framed and faked."

Iris Lee frowned, "Naw. I just told you the legend of the killing sword that killed..."

"Yes. The event is both framed and faked for scaring all the new students. This is another ancient tradition of the privileged class," Lillard frowned.

Tancy shook her curls with a worried brow, "Naw. Effie was really scared. You should have heard that girl. She was cussing up a thunderstorm inside the doorway of her private chamber at the three naughty she-ghosts for touching her hair and then her neck and then her hand..."

Constance frowned. "Did the ghost really touch her hair?"

Lillard frowned. "Impossible! They are both invisible and intangible, if they are indeed real."

Iris Lee lifted and slapped a finger to the lips. "Shh! They can hear you and they can see you and..." she giggled with the others.

"They are not real, ya'll silly southern belles. Someone is behind door number three that is pulling down a mechanic level, creating a mechanic wind storm. What did Effie feel a breeze of wind across the crown of her head or down along her naked feet inside her sandals," Lillard nodded with a smile.

"Effie says that she felt a hand touch move across her bare shoulder." Tancy nodded.

Lillard frowned. "Big D! We all can feel a touch of wind when a moving hand from a boy or a girl crosses one of the naked shoulders while wearing this silly promenade party gown. Geez! I can't believe my mother sent me here..."

"Why are you, here?" Constance turned and frowned at Lillard.

"What?" Lillard dropped open a mouth.

Tancy turned and frowned at Lillard too. "Why did you come here to Antebellum House, Lillard? You are not from the South but the northern US State of Vermont."

Lillard exhaled. "I'm here because my parents wanted me to attend a good university. The proper name of this school seems to open doors in some of the impossibly overcrowded post-graduate institutions."

Constance nodded. "Man or woman, you are very lucky that you get an invite here. Belles from all over the South wanna come here but the enrollment is both limited and strict. We are an academic school for specifically..."

"Girls," Sondra smiled.

"Belles," Iris Lee turned and winked at Sondra.

Sondra lifted up the empty beer bottle into the air with a smile to her new school friends. "To our first belle meeting! The only admission is your bathroom robes and matching or non-matching pajamas. No nudity is allowed. Period! And the only item on the business agenda is boys. So who's got a brother here? I do not want to date him foreverly," giggling.

Tancy winked with a smile, "The better question, who has visited the east garconniere with one or all of the boys?"

Constance winked with a giggle. "The 'bestest' question, who has been out with a boy from east garconniere? Don't be shy! Tell, tell!"

Sondra smiled. "Who is your escort beau that shoved your breasts into the table tonight at supper meal?"

Iris Lee dropped open a mouth in shock. "Cutie-hunkie Sterling, why would he do that to you Sondra?"

"I like his bald mound. Did you touch his smooth bald skull head, Sondra?" Constance winked with a giggle.

Tancy giggled with a nod, "Yeah! That bad body Ween did that me too."

"Ween is a coon-ass." Constance frowned.

"A what?" Lillard laughed with a smile.

Iris Lee frowned. "It is a vulgar and derogatory term for a bad redneck, where your mama would beat your butthole blue and black, if she had heard your foul mouth, Constance."

Constance smiled. "My mama would call him biggity for both vain and overbearing."

"That would be the apt description for my escort beau Senn, darling," Sondra giggled with a nod.

Tancy turned and winked at Constance. "That boy is cute to boot, too."

"And a good old boy from a good old family to boot, too," Iris Lee smiled with a nod.

"A rough and fun cowboy, I bet he wants to take your body to Loveless Mountain, too, Sondra," Constance smiled.

Sondra exhaled. "Senn is a redneck."

Lillard frowned. "I thought the term redneck applied to people, who possessed reddish colored necks coming from a sunny day's work in the crop fields on their farm in rural countryside of the South."

"Ezzard is a sweet talking thing, too boot." Iris Lee nodded with a smile.

"A what?" Lillard frowned.

Tancy nodded with a smile. "Sweet talking thing, it means to a girl that the male has got the best pickup line for a southern beau along with his gentlemanly beau charm."

"A pickup line to where?" Lillard frowned.

"Where is the rock dome located away from this building?" Tancy turned and stared at the closed drapes on the glass windows.

"A what?" Lillard frowned.

"The naked top surface of Loveless Mountain, it is a rock dome which is flat for dancing, strolling, and flirting," giggled Tancy.

"Reckon so!" Constance smiled.

"Who has been kissed before?" Sondra smiled.

"Me." Tancy tossed a hand into the air with a smile.

"Me." Constance smiled with a nod.

Lillard turned and frowned at Tancy. "Is that really your name, Tancy?"

"Tancy is a word that comes from the Greek language which means 'immortal.'" She smiled.

"What does a beau like in his belle?" Sondra smiled.

Constance nodded with a grin, "Beautiful eyes."

"Me." Tancy slapped at her pair of big breasts with a giggle and a grin.

"Soft lips," Iris Lee smiled with a nod.

"Me." Tancy slapped her pair of big breasts again with a giggle and a grin.

"Gorgeous body." Sondra reached out and patted, feeling a pair of skinny legs and thighs inside her yellow colored long pajamas.

"Me." Tancy slapped her pair of big breasts for a third time with a giggle and a grin.

"A good listener," Iris Lee nodded with a smile.

"O baby, go and do whenever you want to do to me." Constance giggled.

"A good listener, not a good whore, Constance," Lillard turned and frowned at Constance.

"I'm not a whore, Lillard." Constance sneered.

"Me." Tancy slapped at her pair of big breasts another time with a giggle and a grin.

"Spontaneous actions," Iris Lee nodded with a smile.

"Yeah baby! Go with the flow!" Constance smiled.

"He loves to hear you sing the blues." Tancy nodded with a grin.

"How about he might wanna hear a country song?" Sondra smiled.

"Sing in his right eardrum." Tancy smiled.

"Dance in his room." Iris Lee grinned.

"Dance in our heels." Tancy smiled.

"Dance in the nude." Sondra giggled.

Constance smiled, "Hell yeah! I give a little dose of silliness and a big dose of kissing-ness for my new beau."

Lillard nodded with a smile. "Boys complain about girl drivers, so I contribute and promise to be a good driver."

Tancy turned and frowned at Lillard. "Are you talking about a car, honey?"

Constance turned and winked at Lillard. "Belle Lillard means to make his engine purr like a newborn kitten for the hunger tomcat."

Iris Lee smiled. "Be happy and not fake. Be real!"

Constance smiled. "Can I tell all of us a joke?"

Lillard smiled. "Can I fake a smile at your joke?" Constance turned and hissed at Lillard.

Sondra smiled. "Boys like a pair of big tits and a set of long legs."

"Me." Tancy slapped at her pair of big breasts with a giggle and a grin.

Constance nodded with a smile. "You need to care for him and baby him when he's sick or tired."

"You need to surprise him with something like me," Tancy giggled.

Lillard turned and frowned at Tancy. "What?"

Tancy shrugged a shoulder with a pout. "I know something about boys."

"Show him that you really want him. Be funny. Be strong. Don't be a damsel in distress all the time! But every once in a while, let me save you from something fun or dangerous," Constance nodded with a smile.

"You must play hard to get." Lillard nodded with a smile.

Constance frowned, "Naw. You must exhibit interest in him while being confident and independent. That's sexy. Needy and pushy is so royal fake."

"Flirt with him! Text to him all your naughty thoughts!" Sondra giggled.

Tancy reached down and pulled out the mobile telephone from the robe, pressing the tiny screen with a confused brow. "I can't use a cell here inside any room or on the outside front porch of Antebellum House. Why is that?"

Sondra gasped with alarm, "O right! I forget about that too," she reached up and grabbed the mobile telephone from the nightstand, drawing near a confused brow, pressing the tiny screen.

Iris Lee laughed. "So, we can't bitch to our parents during a night on Detention Isle at Loveless Mountain that came from Mistress Symole."

"Bitch about what, Iris Lee," Constance frowned.

"So, I don't bitch about you to Symole, sweetie," Iris Lee winked with a smile at Sondra.

Sondra smiled. "O. I gotta remember that one too," she giggled with the girls.
Monday August 16th

07:50 am

Hot temperatures with parted clouds of sunshine

Ballroom location of funny drapes

Shared sofa setting of Sondra, Senn, and Sterling

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Sondra rushed ahead down the Dogtrot Hallway and entered into the ballroom, where all the other males and females sat in a colored T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans.

Symole stood upright in front of podium with a smile down into the microphone. "Pick a sofa! Any empty sofa in the room but sit with one or both of your personal dining room buddies from last night. Please, let us tarry and get seated right now Hurry!"

Sondra moved ahead with a hand wave and a smile to Sterling in the far distance. Senn pulled up behind the back spine of Sondra, reaching down and slapped both a pair of huge man hands on her ass with a set of dual thuds that covered his evil deed with a chuckle. His body blocked the eyeball vision from Symole with the vicious belle attack using a set of broad tallness.

Sondra spun around with a sour frown and performed a backward stroll in a pair of high heels as a southern belle, "Senn!"

Senn leaned down into her lips and grabbed both her arms, twirling Sondra into a chest cuddle with a smile, softly singing in a baritone timber into her eardrum. "Yes! Let's go and sin, tonight." Senn and Sondra slowly strolled towards Sterling, who had selected a modern day gray and white cloth patterned long sofa with a pair of round shaped armrests for the morning prayer and lecture from Mistress Symole.

"Behave! Or I'll tattle to Sterling." Sondra moved with Senn and carried a frown of fury.

Senn dropped down a chin into the chest with a soft moan, "Yes, darling!" He scooted towards the far end from Sterling. Sterling continued to sit and smile on top of the long sofa like a southern gentleman.

Sondra stopped swung around, sitting down between Senn and Sterling on top of the empty cushion. "Ah!" She stood upright from the cushion with a gasp and swung around to see four hands which occupied her ass-spot on top of the sofa with a sour frown. Sterling and Senn did not bother to remove a pair of hands from the top of the cushion while chuckling and winking at her and in the face of each other for fun. She stomped a foot with a sour tone. "Ugh! You boys are going to get me a demerit. Move your paws, cubs, right now from my seat!"

Symole yelled with a sour frown into the microphone in front of the ballroom. "Please, every beau and belle, sit down, right now. A prayer service is provided first turn of the morn at precisely 8:05 am, since a batch of research scientific studies have shown that teens function best later in the morning which is right after a good breakfast. The prayer service will be fifteen minutes long with no words or no music or no noise. Every morning, you will come here first. Then we will enter in single file one bench at a time and then march out the door to place your assigned dining room chair for breakfast. All meals are serviced to you like a prince and princess. So get used to it here at Antebellum House. Your first class will begin at nine am, since another batch of research studies have shown that teens work better in the later morning hours."

Senn slowly lifted a hand up from the soft cloth of the long sofa and extended the wiggling fingers with a smile to Sondra, "Only if, you hold my hand all during prayer service for the entire time of fifteen solid minutes!"

Sterling lifted a hand into the air near a smile to Sondra, "Great ploy, Sinner! Hold my hand too for fifteen solid minutes, sugar."

"No," she crossed both arms with a sour frown and shook her curls.

"Please, sit down everyone! Or the breakfast will be delayed and cold for your taste buddies." Symole yelled with a sour frown into the microphone.

Sondra tossed into the air and then dropped down both arms on her legs a soft moan. "Ugh! Ya'll boys!"

"Hold all of our hands! Then we all can pray for goodness and sweetness," Sterling winked at Sondra.

Sondra tossed into the air and then dropped down both arms on her legs with a soft moan and a nod. "Okay. Both of you move your hands, so I can sit, before I get a demerit," she spun around and sat down in the warm spot as both male teens reached out and slapped both hands on her breasts with a smile and a chuckle. She giggled and fumed at the same time from the typical male teen behavior. Senn wiggled all fingers against her breasts. She reached down and grabbed his hand with one hand. Then Sterling lifted the hand from her breasts and held into the air. She slapped the other hand into his open hand while drawing both of hands down into her lap.

Symole dropped down a chin into the neckline with a smile. "Please bow a head. Let us pray in silent. Amen!" Sondra bowed a chin into the neckline and stared down at the floor with a stern face and a pair of closed eyelashes, praying in silence.

"Amen!" Sterling rubbed her fingers with a soft cheer and a softer chuckle.

"A me," Senn rubbed her fingers and her leg with a tongue cluck and a soft chuckle.

Sterling looked down with a smile at his boot toes with a soft chuckle. "That's good, Sinner! A me and her..."

"A me and her and you," Senn looked down with a snigger and a smile at his boot toes.

Sondra opened the eyelashes and continued to hold each male hand, staring down at the floor while hearing the two teen males mew with a soft moan. "Brother Jesus, please help me!"

09:04 am

First academic class

Needlepoint room location

Classroom interior setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

All the teens had prayed to Almighty God, eaten breakfast, cleaned the face, and head towards the first academic class environment. Sondra moved towards the open archway of the classroom with a sour frown. Effie stood in place and blocked the open archway with both arms that were expanded into each side of the wooden frame with a bad breath and a sour frown. "I am aghast. I have just learned that fat-ass ole Lard-butt is from the US State of Vermont which is not a southern state in the USA."

Constance sat inside the chair and frowned down at the empty wooden board, "Sit down, Effie!"

Effie turned her face to the side and scanned each girl with a sour frown. "I am aghast. Haven't you noticed that Antebellum House has been invaded like a batch of fire ants with other creatures from the northern hemisphere?"

"Yankees are here. Lordy, call my daddy, right now!" Sondra reached out and shoved the petite teen female back into the classroom, scooting around the teen and turned to wink and smile at Lillard, selecting an empty chair, sitting down in front of a wooden board with confusion.

The needlepoint teacher entered the room with a smile. "Good morning, belles! I have a few announcements before we begin our lecture. One demerit is given to Miss Effie for her non-belle behavior inside the archway of needlepoint class today. The lunch meal will be served at high noon consisting of a plate of meatloaf and a bowl of mashed potatoes which is a favorite southern dish of mine too. You are still required to eat your lunch meal using your newly acquired table manners with instruction from last night's supper and this morning's breakfast in a pair of blue jeans and cowboy or cowgirl boots. Are there any more vocal expressions or visual sad faces? Good!" She sat down in front of the classroom in front of an empty wooden board also with a smile.

The room was colored in pink paint with an array of modern furniture including some unique pieces, such like, a gray leather recliner, a pine wood rocking chair, a floral pink wing chair, and a baby blue wing chair. In front of each chair, there stood a twelve-inch square pine wooden hoop on a single foot stand that held a twelve-inch mesh of white canvas for the needle point stitching exercise.

The adult instructor was an elderly, petite, and queen-sized female with a tone pale tinted skin, a head of short grayish-brown hair, wearing a white blouse, a long blue jean skirt with a pair of cowboy boots. She smiled to each student. "Welcome to needlepoint class! You found parked in the seat your personal sewing stash. The basket contains one pair of scissors, a tube of yellow embroidery floss, and one single cross-stitch needle. The basket is not to leave the needlepoint class. You may begin," she looked down with a grin at the canvas.

"What are we cross-stitching?" Constance frowned down at the empty canvas of white hut.

The instructor smiled down at the canvas, "Each one of you is cross-stitching a frog."

"A yellow frog?" Effie frowned with confusion down at the canvas.

Constance frowned down at the canvas and then looked up to see the instructor. "How are we supposed to cross-stitch a frog, ma'am?"

The instructor looked down at the wooden board and narrated with a physical demonstration and a smile. "Hold the wooden board between your knees. Place your needle behind the white canvas and then insert the needle up through the hole and then back down through the hole. This will be your first stitch and then repeat the process, until you have completed your frog..."

"A yellow frog," Effie looked up with a giggle and turned with a sour frown to see the distorted face on Constance.

Iris Lee stared down with a puzzled brow at the canvas. "A frog has two legs and two eyes. This picture has two legs and a tail. I think it's a bird."

"A yellow bird! Is there such a thing as a yellow colored bird?" Tancy turned and frowned at Constance.

Lillard laughed down at the canvas working on the design, "A chicken. A chicken is yellow which is making me hungry."

"It is too heavy and fat and thick for a tiny chick. It looks like a big thick goose," Tancy smiled at Effie.

"It is a yellow goose," Effie frowned down at the canvas.

10:04 am

Second academic class

Library Room location of mismatched desks

Money Matters classroom setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Needlepoint class session had ended for the female teens. All the girls left behind a frog design on top of the needlepoint stand, strolled down the Dogtrot hallway, and entered into the library room for the next academic class.

Sondra moseyed ahead and sat down inside a cheap plastic green colored chair that sported five legs, instead of four. Sterling scooted ahead and sat down inside the matching second chair, turning with a smile to see Sondra in silence. Sondra turned with a wink to see his cute face and then returned back to see the Money Matters instructor.

The instructor was a short and elderly male with a head of cropped gray hair, a pair of tired brown colored eyes, and a tone of wrinkled pale tinted skin. He continued to sit behind a writing desk with a smile to each student. "The subject of money matters inside the library room during the antebellum era, it was the landowner private spot, where he could smoke. There will be no smoking of cigars in here today and never, gentlemen." All of the teen males softly moaned for fun. The instructor grinned. "The landowner could drink. But there will be no drinking of spirits in here today and never, gentlemen." All the teen males moaned for fun again. The instructor smiled. "The landowner could talk about politics which shall be avoided in here today." The room was silence. "The landowner could talk about money, so it would make perfect sense for us to be here to discuss that main topic..."

He shouted out loud with a chuckle. "What main topic is that, sir?" Ween had selected a chair in the rear of the room with a smile.

The instructor frowned. "You will receive one demerit, Master Ween. I am Master Floyd. I would like to remind all of our students that any type of misbehaving rebel behavior either badly facial expressions to my eyes or vocally wrong responses to my ears will reward your person with a single demerit. On the flip side of the Roman golden coin, any type of happy facial expression paired with a correct verbal answer will result in your personal name, being dropping into that invisible white cowboy hat at the end of the school session for the tomorrow announcement of the 'Lady and Gentleman of the Day' during your meal time staring with breakfast. What object is generally accepted as a payment for goods and services and repayment of debts in our economy?"

"Money," Sterling smiled with a nod at the instructor. Sondra turned with a smile to see the nose profile of Sterling. He turned and winked at Sondra in silence.

Floyd nodded with a smile. "You are correct, Master Sterling. What defines the currency in the US?"

"Banknotes and coins," Sterling turned and winked at Sondra.

Floyd nodded with a smile at the nose profile of Sterling. "You are correct, again, Master Sterling! The first usage came from the small village named Mesopotamia in the year 3000 BC in the form of a single or numerous non-matching colored seashell. What is the object?"

Sterling turned back and smiled at Floyd, "The seashell represented money." Sondra dropped open a mouth and stared at the nose profile of Sterling in silence.

"You are correct, again, Master Sterling," Floyd nodded.

Senn reached over and slapped the forearm on Sterling with a smile. "Hey, smart ass! Give us a chance, man!"

"You will receive one demerit, Master Senn. After World War Two, at the Bretton Woods Conference, which was held in the country of England, all of the world's currency became based on what object?"

"Money," Ween yelled out loud with a laugh along with the other students.

"That is not correct, Master Ween." Floyd frowned.

"The object was the United States dollar." Sterling turned and winked at Sondra.

"You are correct for another time, Master Sterling. What is a matter that functions the four of a medium, a measure, a standard, a store?"

"Money," Sterling turned and smiled at the instructor.

"You are very good, Master Sterling. In the early 1500s, in the city of Amsterdam within the country of Holland, a major trading and shipping city accepted large cash deposits from the local merchants to protect their wealth. These cashiers held the money for a monetary fee. The increase in money rolls along with the competition of fee drove the cashiers to offer some additional services including paying out money to any person, bearing a written order from a depositor to do so. They kept the note as proof of payment which is called by what object?"

"A checking account," Sterling nodded with a grin.

"You are correct, Master Sterling! This novel concept of a checking account spread across the countries from England to the colonies in North America. By the 1700's, in the country of England, paper, serial numbers, and what object appeared? Please spell it also!"

Sterling smiled, "The object was a cheque which is spelled c...h...e...q...u... e."

"You are very good, Master Sterling. What is the object that is a summary of financial transactions which have occurred over a given period of time on a bank account held by a person or business with a financial institution anywhere in the world?"

"A bank statement," Sterling smiled.

"You are correct, Master Sterling. A bank statement is printed on several pieces of paper and mailed directly to the address of the account holder. With the concept of advanced technology in the banking service today, there are certain bank machines that offer the printing of a bank statement at any time which is a condensed version of a bank statement. In recent years, there has been a shift towards paperless an electronic bank statement.

"The bank statement possesses certain features such like a listing of cancelled cheques and their images which have cleared through the bank account during the statement period. A transactional account allows the account holder to visually see the financial payment from various resources which include debit cards, cash money, cheques, and electronic funds transfer from or to a bank account. What object holds both the financial and non-financial data and shows a date, the money description, and the money amount of each item, such as, the purchase of a tractor or a horse for a business company like a cotton farm?"

"It is a bank card, man," Ween shouted out loud with a chuckle.

"The object is a general ledger." Sterling smiled.

"You are correct, Master Sterling. What object shows the amount of money collected from selling a warehouse of cotton bolls to the US Federal Government and the amounts of money spent for paying the mortgage of the house, the fuel gas for the farm tractor, and lots of food for their growing five teenage boys? The answer is also the difference between the revenue money and the expense money which could be a profit for the cotton farm placed into a checking account for future spending of money or saving for money."

"The object is an income statement." Sterling turned with a wink to see Sondra.

"You are correct, again, Master Sterling. An income statement is a very important legal and financial document pertaining to money. An income statement shows the past money transactions, where the money was spent and can predict any future money performance, such as, generating cash for the future growth. For example, Antebellum House needs money to expand its capital layout, while continuing to service young beaus and belles into becoming responsible mature adults. The income statement shows the flow of money, but there is another document that places the money in a permanent spot. My last question for the class, what object is a legal declaration by which a person, who is the testator, which names one person to manage his estate and provides for the distribution of his property at the timely event of death?"

"I got this one, man. It's a dead person's Final money Will and wordy Testimony, where all the monies goes to me," Ween shouted with a laugh along with the other students.

"You are very close, Master Ween. You're doing a good job. But I need a specific name." Floyd nodded with a smile.

"The object is called a Last Will and Testament." Sterling smiled with a nod to Floyd.

"You are correct, again, Master Sterling. The term 'will' has historically been limited to real property, while the second term of 'testament' applies only to the disposition of the personal property, thus giving the name, 'Last Will and Testament.' Today, a person creates a testamentary trust that is effective only after the death of the person named inside the will," he lifted up a set of papers in the air with a stern face. "I hold four photocopied cancelled checks coming from four different bank statements. This is your assignment from the Money Matters class. You are to trace back these four bank checks which had been written to Antebellum House which came from four actual patrons. The four patrons are Mrs. Mary Margaret Hackworth, Mr. William Earl McDaniel, Mr. Jefferson Anthony Quinn, and Mr. Montgomery Jonathan Sutton. I request to see in a handwritten format or an electronic one the check money amount from the checking account for each patron, the date of the check transaction which comes from the bank statement of each patron. The money item purchased will be found inside the general ledger book and finally the money income will come from their private business company which will be found on the business income statement that was declared in their actually Last Will and Testimony."

"Geez! All that is requested to be done by the end of the year, professor," Ween chuckled out loud with the other students.

Floyd nodded with a smile to Ween. "You are have received a second demerit, Master Ween," he pointed around the walls of the classroom, where each wall held ceiling to floor book cases which was filled with numerous ancient books and colored manuals of information. "You will find all the ancient accounting books, records, and papers located here inside this very classroom. The assignment is due this week, before the fun weekend. Some of you will finish this assignment in less than thirty minutes, while most of you will take days, maybe a few more weeks to solve the puzzle. Please pick up a stack of papers from the edge of my teacher desk, before you leave the classroom. You may begin starting tonight right after suppertime, unless you are posted to attend Detention Isle for the evening like Master Ween will be visiting," he chuckled with some of the other students. "Dismissed, class."

The students slowly stood upright from a chair and scattered around the room, leaving the instructor for the next academic class without a ringing bell with a set of chuckles or whispers.

11:03 am

Third academic class

Drawing Room location of pink tinted chairs

Journal Writing classroom setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Money matter class had ended. All the students spun around and followed the back spine of Ween. Ween reached out and opened the door, moving through the open archway with a sour frown and a set of soft curses, strolling into the Dogtrot hallway the next academic class inside the drawing room.

Ween turned to the side and stopped, blocking the open archway of the drawing room with a gasp of annoyance. "Damn! The chairs are..." The rest of other students veered around the wide archway and scooted behind his ass, scattering around the new classroom.

The Journal Writing instructor stood upright in front of the loveseat furniture piece with a sour frown at Ween in silence. Sondra moved into and selected one of the empty pink tinted silk covered chair between the elbow of Sterling and her elbow with a small table between them with a giggle and a grin in silence. The instructor smiled with a nod at Ween. "You receive one demerit, Master Ween. Please come inside now. Pick out the chair anywhere in the room as long as it is here in front of me on the left side and first row, so that I may monitor your foul mouth with your set of moving lips," he chuckled with the other students. Ween exhaled with a huff of annoyance and a string of soft curses, moving ahead and stopped, sliding down into the arranged chair, slumping the back spine backwards as his punishment for being stupid and bold with the new instructor. The instructor nodded to each face. "Good morning, belles and beaus! I am Master Skippy. This is Journal Writing class. When you acquired your seat..."

"Pink chair," Ween hollered out loud with a sour frown and slapped the silky pink and silver soft cushion with a hand between the legs.

Skippy turned and smiled at Ween. "You are received another demerit which adds up to two demerits, Master Ween. You first had to lift up a small black leather bound book from the middle of your pink and silver satin original Louis, the fourteen royal court seat chair. Yes, the furniture really somehow makes it here to Alabama from the country of France. But that is not the discussion thread at the moment. The small black tinted leather book is your new private and personal journal which will be used inside and outside this classroom. Since everyone is both comfortable and shocked, I should teach now. You will notice that there..."

"There's no ink pen or a lead pencil to write down your private and personal notes, Master Skippy." Sterling looked down with a smile and flipped through the set of white empty pages in the leather bound journal.

Skippy smiled with a nod, "Very good! You are very observant and eager, Master Sterling. I will submit your name into the upside down very expensive white colored cowboy hat at the end of the school session for 'Gentleman of the Day.' There is not an ink pen or a lead pencil that was attached to the black leather bound journal. You will not be writing down any lecture notes during our lecture session. You will be listening and participating in this class using your set of working vocal cords. Every morning, I will begin a sentence of a topic. Then you will chime in with any material related to that topic. We will continue our verbal conversation throughout the entire fifty minutes of class and then the class will be over for the day. Your homework assignment for the evening is for you to write inside your journal anything you want which comes from your day activity here at Antebellum House. It may be related to our class conversation or it may be related to a topic at lunchtime or it may be a mental thought inspired by a good deed. You have complete freedom of writing, in this case, but you are required to write a sentence every day in your journal. Let us review! The homework assignment is an American sentence which is one noun and one verb, such as, I am..."

Ween slapped the book onto the arm rest with a grin and nod of happiness at Skippy. "Do you mean that I can write only one single noun and one single verb, such like, 'I am' on the first page? Then my homework assignment is done, finished, finale for the night, sir."

Skippy turned and winked with a smile at Ween. "Yes, you can write only one sentence with the required noun and verb, Master Ween."

"Well, hell bells in here! I love this course and this teacher and this class and the students," Ween laughed with the other students.

"Thank you for the compliment, Master Ween!" Skippy nodded with a grin. "You may do just that. But I strongly encourage to you that this is a personal journal of your days here at Antebellum House, which will only last one school session. I would like to see inside your personal journal you write about a remarkable event of your day which brings me to the second part of Journal Writing class. Tomorrow, I will randomly, with no rhythm or reason, select a single journal among all the students of the class. Please note! I am the judge here. If I feel that the selected journal with that particular sentence structure is not suitable for a proper verbal conversation, then I will select an alternate journal. Thus, I shall read that particular sentence structure vocally to the class. This will begin our new topic debate of the day. Then you may participate in the vocal conversation. Quite intriguing, is it not?" Skippy scooted around the loveseat with a grin and sat down on top of the pink sissy fabric of the loveseat and stared at the class of students. "I will begin our session for the day. Welcome to Antebellum House! The institution is an academic, cultural, and social southern school within the great State of Alabama. You are located within the outskirts of the small city which is named Leed, if you desire any type of geographically information as the newest group of student belles and beaus. Dogtrot Plantation sits upon 2,800 acres of forest woodlands, cotton fields, green meadows, and red clay with its own famous mountain bluff, since the year 1643..."

The teen was a tall and obese male with a head of curly red colored hair, a face of red tinted freckles, a tone of pink tinted skin, saying with a smile of excitement. "Hey! That's a little after the Virginia Jamestown settlement on the date of the fourteen of May 14 in the year 1607..."

"Master Herman is absolutely correct, as well as, definitely marked with one demerit," Skippy frowned. "I had not reached my lecture point, when I was rudely cut off by a southern redneck. An unwritten rule among southern belles and beaus, please allow the vocal speaker to finish, before your rude questioning. Now, I have plenty of demerits to go around the room. So, for the time being I would advise with the American word, beware. Now, you may add to my starting conversation, Master Herman," he nodded with a stern face.

Herman cleared a dry throat with a smile. "You enter through an open hallway which is named Dogtrot Hall. It is decorated as an open central breezeway in the middle of the main house while allowing all the young belles to prance about without a chaperone while waving a single gloved hand. They hold an umbrella colored pretty parasol with the other gloved hand and drool at the gathered of young and handsome beaus, who only watched the patio rear for an escape, a unique feature of the Antebellum era," laughing.

"Master Herman is absolutely correct, as well as, definitely marked with another demerit which accounts for two demerits, sir," Skippy frowned.

Sterling nosily cleared a throat with a smile. "In the year 1543, Captain Jon Loveless began his wet dream," he chuckled with the other students.

Skippy turned with a sour frown to see his employee Cody/Sterling. "You will receive two demerits, Master Sterling. Please continue to entertain the class with your highly significant Alabama History lesson, sir."

Sterling chuckled with a nod. "The house of Captain Loveless was first composed of groves of red cedar logs that came from the nearby Leed forest woodlands. He constructed his home in the middle of a dead corn field, after arriving, fighting, and killing off a small band of warriors which had been composed of a noble Creek Indian tribe. The Indian tribe had living around the unique single mountain peak which possessed an elevation of 507 feet at the peak. Captain loveless was both a merchant and a sailor that came from the country of France as he named his newly constructed log house after his ancestral home which was called Castle Dogtrot."

Constance smiled. "The Loveless home was originally not built in the Greek-revival style but was surrounded by rows and rows of white cotton stalks with a great big hole in the middle of the building while allowing for air currents to cool the inner family rooms. The structure, on each side of Dogtrot Plantation, is a wing or a garconniere which is taller than the main house, giving the old plantation a very unique distinctive look like a set of three cobbled plantation homes rather than one. The west garconniere holds the handsome beau suites while the east garconniere houses our sweet belles," she turned and winked at Senn.

Iris Lee smiled. "Loveless Mountain is composed of quartz crystals resulting from an upwelling of red magma within the Earth's crust during the Alleghenian Orogeny time period. That was the time, when the North America and North Africa continents had collided. The red heated magma cooled and then solidified to form a red top dome above the red clay dirt. When Alabama mineral miners drilled on top of the red dome for iron ore in the year 1723, they found oceans of pink granite inside the mountain base. The same pink granite that covers the outer shell of Antebellum House today."

Constance said. "The top of the mountain in the year 1434 was a landscape of bare red rock and rock pools of steam that provided a beautiful view of forest woodlands and the skyline of the small village of Leed, when the dome was not shrouded in a heavy fog while making the eyeball visibility limited to only a few feet. The mountain slopes down into a setting of green woodlands which is composed of oak, pine, maple, and cedar trees plus the rare and beauty Confederate yellow daisy. The Confederate yellow daisy is a soft baby chick-colored yellow with a white seed, instead of a dark black pit which is named Helianthus porteri. The flower grows between the hard crevices of the tinted dull red rock around the base of the mountain while making a perfect picture for some naked eyeballs," she giggled with the other girls.

Iris Lee smiled. "For fun and enjoyment, an interesting old southern legend tells that the Confederate yellow daisy brings to the finder both fortune and fiancé. Yes, my little belles, if you find a daisy, then you make a jasey. A jasey is an old fashioned British noun for a wig, which was used sometimes over the head of the bridal female during the wedding ceremony," she giggled with the other girls.

Senn sneered. "Or the word jasey is a pre-plotted human sacrifice of my..."

"You receive one demerit for the day, Master Senn." Skippy frowned.

Constance smiled. "Loveless Mountain began in the pre-history stage of the Alabama Territory, which was recorded by the Native American Indians that came from the Creek Indian tribe. The Creek Indians braves pecked and chipped away the dull red rock, revealing a mound of pretty granite with pieces of rock. The pretty granite bits were used for various reasons as a quartz tip on a wooden hunting bow arrow and a piece of body jewelry. Then, the European explorers found the red clay dirt of Bama with a set of better machine tools while punching and pitching more of the precious granite off from the red dome top which was used as a set of man-made weapons of destruction. By the time period of the Civil War, the rock dome has been worn down from a mountain peak of five hundred feet to down to barely hundred feet, where the compliments came from the early curious visitors for bunches of pretty land souvenirs or tons of removal quarry rock operations to façade the entire structure of the Dogtrot Plantation plus both of the male and female garconniere."

Sterling said. "The European exploders learned of the mountain in the year 1597, when the Spanish explorers tattled about a mountain to their friends and foes by calling it 'a very high and shiny similar to a sunset like a fire.' The rock mountain was a historical setting in the year 1790 when Andrew Jackson initialed and hoped to negotiate a peace treaty with the Creek Indian tribes. Instead, a wooden bow and pointy arrow bloody war ensured as usual which forced the Creek Indian nation to cede at the Treaty of Fort Jackson. Then the Creek Indians tribes surrender all the forest lands plus the red domed mountain to the State of Alabama in the year 1814. In the year 1863, General James H. Wilson raided with all his Yankee soldiers through the Confederate lands of US State of Alabama with all his Yankee horses, where all came from the Eighth Iowa Cavalry and destroyed all the working buildings plus other home residences, while the Yankees stayed and slept here sparing good ole Dogtrot Plantation."

"Yeehaw!" Ween chuckled with a grin.

Constance smiled. "Now, Loveless Mountain is a wondrous recreational artifact, where young belles and beaus of Antebellum House enjoy the pond water for swimming or the smooth table top ledge for picnicking or the forest trials for hiking or racing on top of horse towards the western slope. There is fun here along with your active academic courses."

Iris Lee smiled. "There is another great manor house which is built of pink granite too, where the granite was quarried here at the Loveless Mountain site here in Leed. That grand manor is designed in a Greek-revival style, when it was constructed in year 1769, in the small town of somewhere Alabama. I forgot," giggling.

Lillard smiled with a nod to Skippy. "I'm Miss Lillard and am proud to hail from the northern US State of Vermont. My native US State uses gray granite to build throughout this great country of ours set of cemetery monuments, government buildings, home kitchen counters, all type of floors, some indoor furniture, and lots of outdoor birdbaths along with park benches. The granite industry contributes seventy-five million dollars in annual sales towards the US State Vermont economy, since the gray granite can supply the USA for at least another 4,500 more years. Granite was first mined in the 1700s by a man named Robert Parker. He was a veteran of Bunker Hill and the War of 1812 while gaining the commercial use of granite for a pretty war memorial of each dead and fallen war soldier. Traditional granite was quarried by a hand saw method which was a very primitive tool when it was compared to the modern day blasting technique like with the use of TNT dynamite. Today, granite is mined by using a set of diamond wire saws, hydraulic drilling equipment, and water jets..."

"You can stop anytime now!" Effie sneered at the rear skull of Lillard.

"You receive one demerit, Miss Effie." Skippy frowned at Effie.

Sterling smiled. "Granite is made of biotite, plagioclase, quart, amphibole, and contains potassium feldspar. The rock appears in light gray silver to garnet to orange to pale pink hues depending on the chemistry and mineralogy make-up of each rock like here in Leed. A dogtrot is also known as a breezeway house or a dog-run. A dog-run is a technique for chasing a possum, where the dog runs from the front yard towards the back grounds and catches that critter right before suppertime which is also known as a possum-run.

"Dogtrot is a style of house which was common here in Bama in the 1500's coming before the post-Revolution War time, when the wagons of pioneers moved out from the east coast while exploring the new landscapes. On Dogtrot Plantation, there is a twin set of twelve numeric steps going up to each side from the sidewalk up to the front porch. Then there is a twin set of twelve numeric steps that parallels the House, exiting down into the patio rear lawn. The House has eight columns in the front and in the rear that holds up the building," laughing. "The breezeway or dogtrot is in the middle of the structure and underneath the common rooftop, where the right side of the building had been used for cooking your dead possum and then dining on the delicious meal. The left side of the structure had been used as the sitting room for cigars and whiskey for your guests or a library for studying. There was a set of private individual bedrooms on the second floor, separating your fun from your pleasure..."

"You receive two more demerits with a total of four demerits, Master Sterling. Please continue to entertain me and enlighten your class mates." Skippy frowned at his employee.

Sterling grinned with a nod. "Yes sir! I will continue to entertain. The dogtrot building is two stories high, so each room is pretty much the same square footage size of fifty feet wide that flanks the open Dogtrot Hallway. Each room is called an ell or shed room, because it could be used for any purpose cooking, studying, praying, or simply getting off," grinning, "for storing stuff, you know. The breezeway is lined with a set of close low-bearing windows that was used to create a set of moving air currents by pulling the cooler air from the outside wind into the enclosed living space of sweaty and smelly bodies, which was very efficiently in the pre-electricity era of southern belles," he turned and winked at Sondra. She blushed in pink tone on a face, looking down at the closed book with a grin and a giggle.

"That is very good, Master Sterling!" Skippy nodded with a smile.

Sterling nodded with a grin at Skippy, "Hey there! Does my neat history story negate all of these four demerits?"

Skippy smiled with a nod. "No sir! You receive two more additional demerits for that particular question which brings the total to six, because it is not part of my lecture in Journal Writing class, Master Sterling."

"Dang," Sterling exhaled with a whisper and tapped the book on top of the arm rest with annoyance.

Skippy smiled. "There is more information about the Dogtrot Plantation. Who else will share, Master Ezzard?"

"Zee," smiled Ezzard.

"You receive one demerit, Master Ezzard." Skippy frowned.

Ezzard frowned. "A secondary characteristic of a Dogtrot Plantation is the placement of chimneys, staircases, and porches. A chimney was always placed at each gable end of the house, serving one main room. For example, the dining room housed the chimney while keeping the dinner guests and food warm. On the left side of the living space, the master bedroom held a chimney post while keeping her mistress and her master warm and cozy," he turned and winked at Effie.

"You receive three more demerits which makes your total three demerits, Master Ezzard." Skippy smiled at Sterling. "You, boys seem to be in a tight competition here while running neck-to-neck like a horse race towards the finish line. I am most eager to see who wins and ventures into the Detention Isle first. Do you wish to continue explaining about the staircases, Master Ezzard?"

Ezzard exhaled with a huff of frustration and said with a stern face. "An open and tall entrance portal is located at the intersection of the dogtrot hall and the front porch on both sides of the house. If you travel straight down beside the set of low windows, your cowboy boots hit the bottom plank of the staircase that counts exactly thirteen steps and then turns sharp to the north straight up a very high and steep staircase of thirty-six steps between a two enclosed walls. The wall separates the House from the garconniere, that's haunted," he chuckles with the others.

"You are very lucky that your information is most accurate, Master Ezzard. Or you will regrettably be receiving another demerit. The archway is haunted with several she-ghosts, but they are harmless. Sometimes, the female spirits enjoy smelling your body perfume while remembering their long ago fun times here at the Dogtrot Plantation. If you feel a slight breeze across your cheekbone, do not tarry too away quickly, since Miss Peggy..."

"Miss Piggy," Ween laughed with the other students.

"They are named after a set of cartoon characters." Effie laughed with the other students.

Skippy turned and grinned at Ween, "You receive three demerits which brings up your total to five demerits, Master Ween. The she-ghosts are harmless, just curious. Then again, if you find a cold draft up your petticoat, do not be alarmed. The lonely spirits rather enjoy taunting our belles just for fun like the beaus. Just giggle and trot off and move away from the belle staircase, dears," he looked down with a smirk to see the wrist watch and up to see each face. "Our time has concluded. Please return back to your sleeping chambers and then refresh your soiled and sweaty bodies with soap and water. Then you are to advance back down and enter into the dining room for the lunch meal. I look forward to another enlightening conversation tomorrow. Dismissed, belles and beaus!"

The students swiftly stood upright from the pink tinted furniture piece and spun around with a set of laughs and whispers while exiting the drawing room one at a time or in pairs.

04:07 pm

Last academic class

Symphonic Band

Ballroom location of funny drapes

Elevated platforms setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

"Good afternoon, belles and beaus! I am Master Marvin, your new band teacher. Please scoot around and find the red colored place card which is associated with your assigned band chair and your selected band instrument. You have been assessed with your musical talents based on your academic and aptitude song talents coming from a variety sources including the harmonious voices of your proud parents and your high school records and instructors."

Constance stopped and stood in front of her band chair, pointing down with a puzzled brow at her band musical instrument. "I'm playing a harp. I don't know how to play a harp. I usually play the clarinet at my old school."

Sondra scooted around Constance and stopped, standing in front of the red colored place card with her name, swinging around and sat down into the metal chair while flattening out the name card with a giggle. She reached up and gently touched the set of black tinted vertical strings on the delicate harp instrument with an index finger while pondering in silence that she could play it also.

Marvin continued to direct with a set of wiggling fingers, hands, and both arms while standing upright in front of the musical band podium with a smile. "Please sit, beaus and belles! Please open your instrument case, assemble your instrument, or softly tune your instrument with your lips or your hands or a combo of both..."

Constance continued to stand and stared down at the band instrument. "I can't play a harp."

Marvin turned with a smile and jabbed a finger at the back spine of Constance. "A harp is a sideways piano with a set of vertical silky strings, instead of a set of horizontal ivory keys. Please sit, Miss Constance. You can play the piano, so you can use the same musical skills for the harp. Each one of you has been strategically placed around the music room as an individual talented musician with your particular musical talent..."

"I can't play a harp. I can play the piano, Master Marvin." Constance stared with a sour frown down at the harp and then looked at the nose profile of Sondra without sitting down in the metal folding chair with frustration.

Marvin turned and pointed at each student with a smile. "Miss Iris Lee with a set of long fingers is our pianist. Miss Lillard is our oboe player. Master Sterling is our bass drum. Miss Tancy is our sole piccolo player, while Master Herman is definitely lost." Constance spun around with a distorted face and sat down in the chair, slapping both palms down inside the lap while staring at the harp in silence.

Herman reached down and picked up, reading the red colored place card, staring at the band instrument that was positioned upright inside the support stand. "I'm to play..."

".... a sousaphone with both Armistead and Ween," Marvin nodded with a smile.

Sondra looked with a smile at the three male teens who sat on the opposite side of the band room in the far wall corner. The ballroom which acted like a music room had been designed with a set of invisible borders of the bass section, which is beside the tubas and trombones. "So, that is a Ween!"

"What did you say?" Constance reached up and gently touched the silk strings with a sour frown.

"Herman plays a sousaphone," she grinned.

"It is a better instrument than a harp," Constance dropped both hands back down into lap and stared with a sour frown at the harp.

Herman spun around with a puzzled brow to see Marvin. "Sir, I can play a tuba and a sousaphone. Why are there three of us that is playing a sousaphone? Usually, there is only one sousaphone player, not three sousaphone players. I can be added to the tuba section instead."

Marvin smiled with a nod. "That is a very good observation, Master Herman! This Symphonic Band is a little different. Please sit down inside your assigned chair, Master Herman." Herman nodded to the band master and spun around, sitting down, lifting and wrapped the gigantic sousaphone instrument around a body with ease and in the face with a smile for the music session. Marvin smiled. You, three boys have been selected to play the sousaphone, simply because each sousaphone is manufactured in sheet brass of gold-plating much like the older brass instruments. I must apologize in advance here at Antebellum House. We do not own any lightweight fibreglass sousaphones. Your brass instrument is in excellent shape with the same thirty-two-inched bell diameter of yesteryears. You, three beaus are the tallest, strongest, and most talented band players for the heavy weighted sousaphone. It requires a strong pair of broad shoulders and a healthy set of lungs to breathe out effort and generate a deep resounding musical tone than their brass counterparts. Ending my long-winded dissertation of sousaphones, you, three play the key of B-flat for me." A loud bonking tone of B-flat permeated the quiet inside the room.

Marvin turned with a smile and whipped the musical baton to the left. "I would like to hear a C-pitch from both flutes and the solo piccolo." A tooting C-pitch sounded with a lovely tweet in the air. He smiled with a nod. "That is excellent flute section. Please, both clarinets and an oboe gimme an A-chord!" A neighing A-chord sounded throughout the room. He nodded with a grin. "You sound excellent, clarinets and an oboe. Saxophone masters, play me a D chord, please!" A honking D chord echoed against the walls. He nodded with a grin. "Excellent tone, saxophone masters! Trumpets and trombones play me a B sharp chord." A barking B sharp sounded in the room. He nodded with a grin. "That sounds marvelous. French horns and row of tubas do me an E flat chord." A howling E flat pitch rattled the floor boards. He nodded with a smile. "That is excellent, horns and tubas. For the fiddlers and guitars, gimme a G chord, please!" A screaming G chord whipped up against each glass window pane. He nodded with a smile and turned with a nod to see Sondra and Constance. "And finally, the beautiful harmony of love comes from the two harps. Please do me an F chord!" Sondra reached up with a nod and plucked on the string with a smile and as a sharp noise came out from vibrating harp strings. Constance laughed without touching her harp. He smiled with a nod. "A little practice goes a long way, belles. There are two harps, seven flutes, seven clarinets, four saxophones, four trumpets, four trombones, two horns, two fiddles, two guitars, two tubas, one piccolo, one oboe, one pianist, six percussion pieces, and three sousaphones.

"I know that each one of you can play an instrument as the words were tattled into my eardrum by your sweet mama. Welcome to the Symphonic Band! We don't march around a football field during the half-time show or dance side to side to the sound of jazz music during a Shakespeare play or even enter a spring time band competition concert band event during the springtime. However, we do play one song on the last hour of the last day on holiday break, before you go back home with your parents to your respective native US States for the long respite. The band component is a requirement in the US State of Alabama under the Department of Education as an extracurricular activity which is beyond reading, writing, and mathematics all of our academic students. We will be rehearsing and playing the music sheet which is lounging lazy on the music stand and in front of your eyeballs which is entitled Daisy Bell."

"You are shitting me," Ezzard slapped the bell of the silver tinted trumpet bell down on top of the kneecap with a sour frown at the music on the stand.

Marvin leaned down with a smile and flipped the pages of the musical sheets to the beginning. "You receive one demerit, Master Ezzard," he looked up with a smile and lifted both arms in the air to start the musical song.

"I played that song when I was five years old in my piano recital." Lillard frowned at Marvin.

"That is excellent to my eardrums, Miss Lillard! You along with the majority of the talented musicians here in this room know both the lyrics and the rhyme of musical tune Daisy Bell. The song was written by Harry Dacre in the year 1892. Please you will warm up a lip and a tongue before our fingers and our hands go onto the instrument. The song is very old and very well-known. Hum with me a C-chord. Daisy, Daisy..."

One of the side doors opened. "Master Marvin," Symole appeared and stood with a smile inside the archway at the nose profile of Marvin. "May I see you for a moment please? I promise, students, your music maestro will return very shortly," chuckling.

Marvin dropped both hands while holding the musical baton, back stepping off the short platform, spinning around to face the open archway and Symole, moving ahead with a smile. He exited into the hallway with Symole. The door closed shut.

Inside the ballroom which acted as a music room, Ezzard swiftly stood upright from the chair and jumped down off the second tier platform with the trumpet, marching ahead and stopped, kneeling down on one kneecap on the floor and held out the instrument with both arms. He reached inward and crossed them against his chest with a smile and a song of sweet harmony. "Effie, Effie, give me your answer do..." The rest of the students cheered and clapped for Ezzard. He sung with a smile. "I'm half-crazy over the love of you..."

Armistead swiftly stood upright from the chair with the sousaphone around a body with a smile and a sing to each face. "It won't be a stylish marriage..."

Ween swiftly stood upright from the chair with the sousaphone around a body with a smile and a sing to the students also. "Since I ain't ready to marriage..."

Herman continued to sit with the sousaphone around a body with a smile and a sing to the students too. "I can't afford a bull whipped carriage..."

"But your butthole will look sweet to me, sweetheart," Ween continued to stand and sing for fun.

"Upon my seat, right here, doll." Senn reached down and patted the metal between the legs with a smile and a wink only at Sondra.

"Of a bicycle built for two, me and you, you and me, Sondra." Sterling turned with a smile and pointed one of the drum sticks at his chest, staring at Sondra.

Then the other non-singing musicians clapped with cheers.

05:16 pm

Dining room location without windows and dark

Dinner meal setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

At the same table between the same two table buddies, Senn and Sterling, Sondra continued to sit and stare down at an empty plate of food.

At the head table, Head Mistress Symole continued to sit inside the dining room with a smile and lectured about food without a plate of food like her students. "Proper table manners require that all bread is broken by your finger pads or cut with a knife while depending on hardness or softness texture. A soft texture, such as, a biscuit or a muffin is broken in half with all your finger pads. A bite-sized piece is pulled from the broken half and held against the side of the bread-and-butter dish and buttered, and then eaten one bite at a time. A piece of bread with a firm texture, such as, a sweet soft pastry or a piece of dry toast is cut in half or quartered and then it is buttered. A hot sweet roll or a piece of toast is buttered entirely and then is held between the edges of the finger pads. A bread stick is made from sweet dough and does not require a pad of butter. But, if you butter, then you better break off the end and butter a bite at a time," she lifted up and ate the stick of bread, chewing with a grin to each student.

On the student table beside Sondra, Senn frowned at Symole. "Watch her eat first! I grow tire of waiting while my stomach grows hungry."

Sterling leaned over with a smile and a whisper into the breasts of Sondra. "Why are we here again?"

"Daddy sent me," she grabbed and sipped, swallowing the tumbler of sweet tea. The butler appeared and shoved a small plate onto the oval dish with a cup of ice chips and three pieces of cooked seafood shrimp.

At the head table, Symole swallowed the food with a smile. "In a formal setting, the wine bottles are opened in the kitchen setting. The host glass is filled first and tastes the wine for approval. To avoid an ugly spill, the wine bottle is brought to the wine glass."

Ezzard shouted out loud with a chuckle. "We get wine with our supper tonight. Yeehaw!"

At the head table, "You receive one demerit, Master Ezzard." Symole turned and frowned at the student. "During the first course, water is poured from a water pitcher which remains on top of the dining table throughout the dinner meal. A water goblet is filled no more than three-quarters full." The butler appeared and reached over, pouring water down into the empty goblet for Sondra, standing upright and scooted to Sterling, repeating the procedure in silence. Symole smiled. "The main course is filled with a combination of foods consisting of a roast, starch, vegetables, and garnish. The butler presents to you the variety of sauces and condiments which is served in a sauceboat that is carried on top of a salver. Please whisper your preference. He will slaughter your delight upon the meat. The wine, or tonight, the red grape juice will be poured in the wine glass. If you do not want to taste the grape juice, please announce to the butler. Then he will return the wine glass and continue to replenish the water goblet." The butler appeared and reached down, filling the wine glass with red juice for Sondra. At the head table, Symole smiled. "The salad course is served in its own plate first. The butler will come around with a cheese tray with a stack of toasted crackers and a pad of butter which will be served at room temperature. You whisper your preference. Then he will make it so." The butler appeared beside her cheekbone and leaned down placing a stack of two toasted crackers on the right side of the salad plate and then sliced off a small pat of butter, resting it below the two crackers. She reached down and grabbed the cracker, eating without swallowing from hunger pains. The butler stood upright and scooted next to Sterling, repeating the meal procedure.

At the head table, Symole smiled. "You can use the pat of butter on your bread. But, I caution with great care, to you, that the salad butter has been perfected with an acidic quality of the salad dressing while complimenting the entire salad meal. Everyone has food covering the oval platter now.

"Always watch your hostess for the visual signal to begin eating. I will pick up my salad fork which is located on the outside of my plate and then tenderly stab my lettuce leaf. Then you will begin your mealtime delight. All the eating forks are located on the left and all the eating spoons are on the right. Start at the outside and then work your way towards the plate. Cut your food into one-bite-sized morsel portion at a time, chew the bite thoroughly and swallow, before taking another bite. Your cracker is provided on top of the bread platter which is located on the left side of your eating plate. Please put butter, jam, or other spreads onto your bread plate rather than slather it directly upon your cracker and then butter, if you wish one sliver at a time.

"Do not bring an outside beverage to your eating table. The extra glassware crowds the nice placement setting. When a late guest arrives for supper, table manners dictate that everyone remains seated. If the latecomer is a belle, as a courtesy, all beaus will rise, and then the beau on the left of her seat will assist her into the chair, which is very important and very necessary. If you must leave the table, excuse yourself and place your napkin in your chair, not on the table. If you can't remember to place it at your seat, you will receive a demerit. If you are served something you do not like, then it is polite to accept the food item and at least try a taste. If you possess a food allergy, it is fine to decline." The butler appeared near the cheekbone of Sondra and leaned down, removing the dirty plate and replaced it with a new plate. At the head table, Symole looked down with a smile at the food plate. "Our entrée is presented. Spaghetti is eaten with a fork. Ravioli is eaten with a spoon."

On the student table beside Sondra, Sterling tossed both hands into the air with a puzzled brow while searching for the proper utensil. "What's this? There is no spaghetti fork."

At the head table, Symole reached down and wrapped the food with a smile. "For a plate of spaghetti, you scoop a small amount onto your fork and then twirl it around the fork prongs, until the loose ends rest over the fork. Hold a spoon against the tines of your fork for easy whirling. The thin noodles are wound around the fork tines first. Try to pick up two or three strands with each bite to avoid a bite that becomes too large. For leverage, balance the tips of the tines against the side of the plate and wind the strands around them, using a spoon to steady the fork. Inevitably, some pasta strands will still be hanging from your fork..."

"Like my snot on a runny nose day," Sterling chuckled.

At the head table, Symole spun the long spaghetti strands of food around the fork tines with a smile. "Just quietly suck all the spaghetti strands and tasty tomato sauce down into your mouth. This is not improper dining etiquette."

"I do suck them boogers right back into my nostrils when I get a runny nose," Sterling ate and chewed the food with a chuckle of closed lips.

"I am going to be sick to my stomach. Stop it with the side bars gross comments, Sterling!" Sondra reached over and grabbed the fork, stabbing the bright green lettuce leaf first.

Senn wrapped the spaghetti strands around the fork tines with a laugh. "Did Symole just tell me that I could suck your..."

"...my dick right after our spaghetti dinner. Yeah! You got good ears, Sinner," Sterling laughed.

Senn laughed. "Let the sucking begin," he leaned down and sucked in the food, chewing with delight.

At the head table, Symole chewed and swallowed with a smile. "For tonight, there will be no shame or no demerit." Then a sound of numerous soft tings of utensils attacked the meal.

05:47 pm

Dessert course

At the head table, Symole stared down at the dessert. "The dessert course might seem easier to eat but has its own manners..."

Sterling stared with a sour frown at the empty plate, "Of course!"

Symole smiled down at the dessert. "The dessert is prepared in the kitchen, while the butler clears items from your placement setting that does not relate to the dessert course like all the nasty crumbles coming from your table, not your mouth, Master Ween. For all the pastry items, both a dessert spoon and a dessert fork are used when eating a cream puff or an éclair. The pastry food item is held in place with the spoon and then cut and then eaten with the fork.

"Do not attack the beast! Else, the gooey cream filling will squirt out and land on your neighbor, because you will receive your demerit and your neighbor. A bite-sized pastry, a donut is eaten with your finger pads. For a general table manner rule, if you cannot eat a pastry without getting it all over your fingers, then use a fork. A croissant is eaten with all the fingers tearing off a small piece and then spoon on the preferred topping of jelly, preserves, or butter. A Danish pastry is cut in half or quartered and then can be eaten with either the fingers or a fork. A cinnamon bun should be cut in half or quartered with a knife and then eaten with the fingers unless it is too sticky and then use your fork.

"Table manners require that the muffin is cut in half either vertically or horizontally and then butter each half one at a time while holding the sweet bread over your plate. An English muffin is split in half. Each side is spread with butter, jelly, honey, or marmalade. The dessert fork is held in the left hand with the silver tines backward."

Senn leaned over with a smile and a whisper into the cheekbone of Sondra. "That I flirt back at you, babe." Sondra stared down at the dessert with a giggle.

At the head table, Symole reached down and lifted up the eating utensil. "The dessert spoon is held in the right hand to cut and to convey a bite into an open mouth."

Senn leaned over with a smile and a whisper into the other cheekbone of Sondra. "I like open mouth with your pretty lips too. Is that pink tinted bubble gum or wild cherry lip gloss, sweetheart?"

Sondra leaned over with a smile into his lips. "I am wearing wild cherry like your dessert, buddy."

Senn winked with a smile. "Are you proposing that I might get two desserts tonight, sugar?"

"If you're a very good boy!" She giggled with a smile at the dessert.

"I'd rather be a very bad boy," he winked at her cheekbone.

08:05 pm

4th floor level

Private bedroom setting of Sondra

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Sondra called and gathered all her new friends inside the bedroom again for the second day of school at Antebellum House. She continued to sit on top of the pillow with a smile. "It is time for girl talk! Who is going to belle tell first? We start with any boy."

Lillard frowned. "I don't understand the need for a debate of an ancient by-gone historical setting inside a Journal Writing class that doesn't make any sense to me."

Tancy nodded with a smile. "It makes sense to me. This place is our past lives which had been lived by my great-great-great grandparents, where I am honoring and cherishing here at Antebellum House."

Lillard exhaled. "My dead grandfather doesn't want to hear this malarkey."

Tancy smiled. "I like beau Ezzard. He is tall with those cute cat whiskers. I wanna touch those whiskers with my hands."

Iris Lee laughed. "He is taken, darling. Effie has got a pair of kitty-cat claw scratches deeper than a brush of raspberry thorns into your beau Ezzard. Don't mess that boy! I am telling and warning you, honey."

"Really! Does smart ass petite Effie rule over me?" Tancy smiled.

Iris Lee nodded with a stern face. "Effie drools all over his privates, privately."

Constance smiled with a nod, "Yeah! Effie performs and receives an A-plus degree, so I have heard while standing around the white grape vines yesterday evening. Connie loves to wiggle that tongue and that pair of loose lips during the lunch meal. I simply don't understand how she was accepted into Dogtrot Plantation with her set of vicious non-belle manners."

Iris Lee smiled. "I like boys that are sly and sophisticated and sexy looking. Those traits evoke confidence and masculinity..."

Lillard turned and frowned at Iris Lee. "Your description definitely gives a new meaning to wordy egg-head," she sipped and swallowed the beverage.

Tancy smiled. "Senn looks good, gorgeous, older, bolder, and awesome."

"You're in love mode," Iris Lee grinned.

"I'm in love." Tancy smiled.

"You're in lust mode," Iris Lee smiled.

"I'm in lust mode too," Tancy grinned.

"I bet Sondra likes Sterling." Constance turned and winked at the nose profile of Sondra

Iris Lee grinned with a nod. "I like Ezzard. He is a warrior man, who is assertive, not nice, and refine. We got good chemistry going together, ya'll."

Sondra smiled with a nod. "I like Sterling. He is a funny guy, hot looking, tall, and muscular with a set of tacky table manners that can always been corrected a hand slap from his girl. Me!"

Constance frowned, "Really! Sterling has a set of tacky table manners with his broad shoulders and his sweet baldness. We could make good chemistry, too, ya'll."

Tancy sneered. "Ween has a set of tacky table manners, who is an ugly dude with an uglier name..."

"Saturday afternoon is our first dating encounter with the boys." Constance smiled. "There's a hay dance then a hay ride..."

"We dance in hay. Why do we dance in hay? Doesn't hay contain a set of nasty bugs?" Lillard frowned with disgust.

Iris Lee grinned. "Ween likes me. He stares at me all through Journal Writing. Then he leans over the side table and slaps my arm or whispers into my ear when something funny is said..."

"Oooh la, la!" Tancy smiled. "Ween fancies you, girlfriend. They are attracted to you when they hit a body part like in the first grade. I remembered that the boys were tugging on my curls..."

"Every time, the room is quiet, Ween whispers to me some useless tidbits of information," Iris Lee smiled.

Tancy nodded with a smile. "Oooh-la-la! He likes you. He is flirting. I remembered the boys were flirting with me..."

Constance smiled. "You need to engage his flirting action with your flirting act of a southern belle play one of our silly mind games..."

Sondra frowned and shook her curls. "That's stupid advice, Constance! He'll think you're a ding bat like Constance. Compliment him! Say nice eyes or nice hair or nice tight T-shirt. When you compliment his T-shirt, shove your face closer into his face or into his cheekbone or into his lips..."

Constance flipped a hand with a sour frown. "Forgot that maneuver! You will get a demerit or three from the instructor and then you will be sent into the Leed forests."

"I thought that we wanted to go into the Leed forests with a boy," Tancy gasped.

"With a boy, not another girl like Sondra for getting both of you into trouble," Lillard laughed.

Constance frowned at Lillard and then smiled at Iris Lee. "You need to smile and then get frisky with your sexy voice tone. Be unpredictable. When the subject gets dull, you need to be unpredictable and then switch to a new topic. Be animated. Use your eyes and hands, forming visual shapes like a triangle or circle your hands, tilt your head, bat your eyelashes!"

Tancy giggled. "Oooh-la-la! You need to bat your eyelashes while making synergy chemistry between you and him with a secret message..."

"What secret message?" Sondra frowned.

"I wanna fuck you now, big boy," Tancy winked with a giggle.

Sondra gasped, "Tancy!"

Constance flipped a hand with a smile. "Don't listen to her. Listen to me. The point of the hay wagon is a ride for two bodies, not three or four or single. The point of the hay dance is for you to point your beau for the hay ride. So, you must be self-assured and confident. Remember? Your sexy enough is not enough, so he needs much more sexy from your sexy."

Lillard frowned. "That doesn't make any sense!"

Tancy smiled. "During the slow dance, you hug him tightly and then plant a light kiss onto his cheekbone and then the other cheekbone, when you first bump breasts together kinda like an old girlfriend or something. Then during the music, you laugh, joke and flirt like crazy for the next act of kissing his soft pink cool lips," she giggled with the other girls.

Lillard frowned. "Is it going to be cold inside a hay wagon ride during the evening hours?"
Tuesday August 17th

10:04 am

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Second academic class

Library Room of mismatched writing desks

Money Matters classroom setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Sondra had attended the first period academic needlepoint class with the other girls, exiting the room and followed the group of girls into the money matters classroom. Inside the room, she sat down inside one of the uncomfortable plastic hard chairs while ignoring the boring topic.

Professor Floyd continued to sit behind the empty writing desk with a smile to each face. "I say 86,000 square feet of flooring and 98 rooms and 12-foot cathedral ceilings and 11-foot door frames and 18 tall columns of pink granite and eight chimneys that break over the roofline while drawing out the smoke coming from the 24 fireplaces in one structure. What am I describing?"

Tancy smiled with a nod. "It is the hotel that my granddaddy owns."

Lillard smiled. "The structure is the England castle for the queen."

Ween shouted out loud with a chuckle. "It is another boring day in money matters class."

Sterling nodded with a smile, "You are describing the topic of math numbers, sir."

Floyd nodded with a smile. "I heard the correct answer. Please repeat the correct answer to the class!"

"It is another boring day in money matters class," Ween shouted out loud with a snigger and a nod.

"Master Ween receives one demerit. When you receive twenty demerits, you are awarded a trip to Detention Isle. Does everyone remember that? Good! The descriptive answer is the word, numbers. What were the years within the royal court of Queen Anne of Great Britain?"

Sterling smiled. "The years are between the numbers of 1702 to 1714."

Floyd smiled with a nod. "What are the years when the design furniture for Queen Anne was designed and built?"

"The years are 1720 to 1760," Sterling smiled.

Floyd nodded with a smile. "What is Art Deco?"

"It is fugly ugly." Senn chuckled.

Floyd nodded with a smile. "Touché, Senn! The Chrysler Building within New York City is an example of Art Deco with a set of straight lines and an array of gentle curves which is found in all modern furniture materials, such as, wood veneers, lacquered woods, clear shiny glass, and light steel. The seat upholstery is thick vinyl, where each table chair leg extends straight up into the air like a pair of sewing needles much like some of the fugly ugly furniture inside this room. Today, we are going to have some fun. Since no one had bothered to turn in the writing assignment from yesterday. I did not expect so with the turn of events last night. I'm too busy to prepare another lecture. Therefore, we have some fun today. Let's echo back and forth some favored southern sayings, so anyone and everyone can participate for today's homework assignment. I will start. Do go on, ya'll!"

Effie slapped the big breasts with a nod and a grin. "Do go on about little ole me, some more ya'll!"

"Naw, Effie!" Ween frowned.

"Go hog wild." Senn smiled.

"Go off half-cocked, shotgun cocked," Sterling chuckled.

"Go whole hog." Ezzard laughed.

"Go back home, Yankee," Effie frowned at the rear skull of Lillard.

"You receive one demerit, Miss Effie," Floyd frowned at Effie.

"Gone back home!" Constance smiled.

"Got your feathers ruffled, doll," Effie sneered.

"I'm happy as a dead pig in the sunshine," Senn smiled.

"What the fuck?" Ween turned and frowns at Senn.

"You receive one demerit, Master Ween." Floyd frowned.

"I got no axe to grind." Senn laughed.

"In high cotton, ya'll." Sondra smiled.

"In a coon's age," Sterling smiled.

"Naw! The saying is said in a coon's eyeball." Ezzard frowned.

"Like a bump on a log." Constance smiled.

"Like two peas in a pod." Effie laughed.

"Let's mend our fences, boys." Sondra laughed.

Sterling turned and winked at Sondra. "You shore are a sight for sore eyeballs, Sondra."

"Ya be in my stomping playgrounds, Sterling," Senn leaned over and sneered at Sterling.

"That takes the cake." Sondra giggled with a nod.

"Too big for one's britches," Effie laughed.

"Don't get your pink panties in a wad, Senn," Sterling leaned over and laughed at Senn.

"Two shakes of a lamb's tail." Tancy smiled.

"Well, shut my mouth and slap my grandma's face." Constance laughed.

"I do declare." Lillard smiled.

"Well, ain't them the berries." Sondra smiled.

"It is as easy as sliding off a greasy log backwards." Ezzard laughed.

"Barking up the wrong tree, Sterling!" Senn continued to sneer at Senn.

Sterling laughed to Senn. "You are acting like the old lady, who fell off the wagon..."

"...or off the watch tower a time or two," Ween chuckled.

Floyd frowned. "You receive an additional two demerits for a total of five demerits, Master Ween."

"What watch tower?" Sterling turned and frowned at Ween.

"Busy as a stump-tailed cow in fly time." Sondra smiled.

"You got caught with your panties down." Effie giggled.

Senn turned and laughed at the nose profile of Effie, "You got caught with Effie's panties down to her..."

Floyd frowned. "You receive an additional two demerits for a total of five demerits, Master Senn."

"Don't bite off more than you can chew...tobacco." Sterling laughed.

"Don't count your chicken eggs, until they hatch." Ezzard smiled.

"Don't let the tail wag the dog, dog." Senn laughed.

"Don't let your mouth overload your tail, boy." Ezzard laughed.

"Either fish or cut bait." Sterling smiled.

"Cut air." Lillard giggled.

"Cut me some slack, man," Senn laughed.

"Every person in the South waves a hand with a 'hi' or a 'bye' which is called 'being friendly.' Try to understand the concept, Senn!" Ezzard laughed.

"Every male in the South opens a door for a lady that applied to all women, regardless of age." Sterling smiled with a nod.

"There're three main dishes in the South, consisting of meats, vegetables, and breads. Three main spices are salt, pepper, and ketchup." Tancy nodded with a grin.

"There is only God, country, and football." Sterling laughed.

Ween laughed, "Yeehaw!"

"Amen there, brothers and sisters." Senn chuckled.

"Bless your heart, bitch!" Effie turned and sneered at the nose profile of Lillard.

"You're dumber than a box of rocks, Effie." Senn turned and sneers at the rear skull of Effie.

"I carry a pocketbook, not a purse." Constance nodded with a smile.

"I drink a coke, not a soda." Tancy smiled.

"I'm fixin' to straighten your bonnet, Effie," Senn continued to sneer at the rear skull of Effie.

"I push a shopping cart, not a buggy." Effie smiled.

"I might could go the store and push a shopping cart for some vettles." Sondra smiled.

"Put on your grown up pants and deal with it, boy." Sterling laughed.

"It's always 17,000 degrees below zero here during the wintertime in Bama." Constance giggled.

"It's 89 million degrees outside during the summertime days in Bama." Tancy smiled.

Senn swiftly stood upright from the chair and pointed at the nose profile of Sterling with a smile, using a female timber for fun. "I'm irritated to death with you, boy," he chuckled with the other students.

"I tickled you to death, honey bunny." Ween grinned.

"She is dumber than a door nail." Senn continued to sneer at Effie.

"That thing is rustier than a pitch fork in the horse barn." Armistead smiled.

"Those dang mosquitoes are eatin' me up from my toes to my hair roots." Ezzard reached over and scratched the forearm with a smile.

"He's so stupid. He can't pour his own piss out of his boot with instructions written on the heel," Senn chuckled with the class.

"He's madder than a wet hen." Constance smiled.

"Grandpa is down yonder by the creek side, Tancy." Ween laughed.

"I reckon' so, sweetie," Tancy turned and winked at Ezzard.

"There ain't no sense in that." Senn frowned.

"Someone done walked over my grave, when I feel a shiver." Ween laughed.

"How's your mama and them doing or feeling? Because, your mama always comes first." Ezzard smiled.

"That dog won't hunt. It means that your excuse is not good enough for your mama." Senn smiled.

Effie grinned. "North Carolina is not southern enough to the deep South, because of the word north."

Constance smiled. "Ezzard is a northern."

"Southern people don't got bad grammar, we all got accents." Ezzard laughed.

Sterling laughed. "I live in the boondocks then drive a-ways to the shopping center on Highway 72 near Bubba's Grocery Store."

"Supper is your nightly dinner. A fillin' station is a gas station." Ween smiled.

"I'll carry you there, girl." Senn winked at Effie.

"Don't give a hoot!" Effie laughed.

"Southerners are a whole lotta fun, ya'll!" Tancy grinned.

"Howdy there!" Constance smiled.

"I own a couch, a glove box, a poke sack, an icebox, a yard, not a lawn and tell a yarn, not a story." Sondra nodded with a smile.

"A ways is a distance." Sterling laughed.

"Why, we would feel pretty much at home down your way, ya'll?" Tancy laughed.

"Is your kin coming today, Daddy?" Constance smiled.

"We'll come and see ya'll, tomorrow, if the Good Lord willing and the creek don't rise." Sondra grinned.

"Hand me a clean washrag, Mama." Senn laughed.

"He ain't no count!" Sterling smiled.

"Aiming to do that. Bull hockey. Bleeding like a stuck pig. The Good Book. Mad as a hornet. Doodley squat. Polecat. Mountain out of a molehill. Knee-high to a grasshopper," Iris Lee smiled. "And I can go on and on and on..."

Senn smiled. "How about when you hear that all the biological children are called by their first name in their proper birth order? That means trouble," he laughed with the other students.

"You are in trouble, young lady." Sondra grinned.

"Gimme some sugar, love! That means both a kiss and a hug from your mama or your grandma." Tancy grinned.

Ween laughed. "When your parents use your first, middle, and last name all together in one long sentence, that means bigger trouble?" He chuckled with the other students.

Ezzard smiled. "It means a whipping, boy," he laughed with the other students.

Mister Floyd smiled. "We have had a very intriguing class today. So, I will leave you with bless my soul and noontime lunch is served."

11:03 am

Third academic class

Drawing Room location of pink tinted chairs

Journal Writing class setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Skippy stood upright in front of a short pile of black tinted notebooks which represented the nightly homework assignment coming from each student. He swung back an arm and held a cupped hand over the pile of notebooks while watching each student cringe, sliding the hand over the middle and then down onto the side of the pile without knowing the owner of the notebook. The notebook was perched on the edge of the desk and ready to fall down onto the floor. He snatched the notebook and drew it to the eyeballs, opening to the first with a smile. "I have the notebook for today's discussion. Like yesterday, I will call out the topic. Then anyone is allowed to comment, debate, or argue. The topic word is Christopher Columbus."

Armistead smiled. "Christopher Columbus wrote inside his sea journal describing the Caribbean natives that he had encountered on his first voyage across the Atlantic Ocean. 'They go naked as when their mothers born them and so do the women, although I do not see more than one girl. They are very well made with very handsome bodies and very good countenances..."

Ween chuckled. "Christopher Columbus, the first gay of USA."

"Here! Here!" Senn chuckled.

"Naw, dude!" Sterling shook a bald skull with a smile.

Armistead chuckled. "Think it, man! They landed on the sandy beach of the Canary Islands on the sixth of September after buzzing around the open sea coming from their native country of Spanish for over a month. That is thirty days sailing around the country of Cuba, before heading back home around the twelfth of October and then another thirty days to the country of Spain. That's two months with no fucking sex..."

Skippy frowned at the teenager. "You receive two demerits, Master Armistead."

Sterling nodded with a smile. "Columbus landing in North America was a very bad thing for the native population. Many people don't know this. The Native American population was over twenty million before the year 1492 and maybe more. Some estimates are over fifty million. There lived within large cities with governments and so on. Most people think that North America was a big empty continent with a set of sparely populated people of a few roaming tribes of Indians while begging to be populated. Wrong-o! With the swift introduction of all the European known diseases, particularly smallpox, the entire population was reduced from twenty million down to about 250,000 by the late 1800's. Do some reading on the subject, ya'll!"

Ween smiled. "Christopher Columbus, the first real illegal alien of the USA!"

Senn leaned over and fist bumped with a nod to Ween, "Touché, my boy!"

Iris Lee smiled. "Columbus led three ships that were named the Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria out from the country of Spain by way of the Port Palos on the third of August third in the year 1492..."

"That's my birthday on August third!" Herman smiled at Skippy.

Senn laughed. "His football goal was to find the riches of gold, pearls, and the beer."

Lillard smirked. "The myth of the American Old South is as wrong as the myth of the American Old West. Your television Hollywood-style portrays the American Old West with a pack of gun toting cowboys, brave attacking Indians, gun killing shootouts, a single preacher-man saving the day. Actually, the novels were written by real westerns based on individual murders of the fellow man over a plot of land or a bottle of whiskey. Saloon girls were not pretty, but property. People struggled for bread and water and then died in the soil. In the American Old South, people thought of the big gorgeous plantations with rows and rows of white cotton bolls and people speaking William Shakespeare sonnets. Actually, in the Antebellum era, every man, woman, teenage, and child worked day and night in the crop fields while gathering whatever single crop the farm produced which was known as tobacco in the US State of Virginia, cotton in the US State of Alabama, and sugar cane in the US State of Louisiana."

Herman smiled. "The Native American Indians of Cherokee, Creek, Chickasaw, and Choctaws were driven out of town literally on a pair of naked feet and out from their southern homesteads when gold was found. Of course, there was also the fake Indian gold too leading all the white settlers into greed and destruction along with the Indians."

Lillard smirked. "The American Old South was like modern day Great Britain of today. There was no middle class, only the rich nobles of knights and ladies and then the other people. The other people were the indentured slaves, who were used on the farm to perform free labor and back breaking work without just payment for labor but their crimes of no freedom. This was the basis of the United States of America, after the Revolutionary War of 1776."

Senn sneered. "I don't begrudge any person, there say so, but I do begrudge any person, who trashes my country that I love," he leaned over around the chair and then bad breathed on Lillard's arm.

Ween smiled. "I feel an upcoming war of liberation coming onto us."

Iris Lee smiled. "People are liberated by killing other people for petrol oil, for nuclear weapons, for religion martyr in modern times."

Senn nodded. "President Lincoln was just another politician nothing more, nothing less."

Herman smiled. "My great-great grandfather was a block aid runner in the Civil War Between the States in the year 1864."

Senn said. "War is a barometer of human brutality."

Tancy smiled. "I think we should talk about the New South. I think there are many positive things to be said for it. People tend to be more polite. They seem to know their neighbors and they will help them, if they are in need. The scenery is gorgeous and the food is also fantastic."

Sondra said. "Everyone is recruited to fight for a cause, a lost cause. Any war is a lost cause, to me."

Ween smiled. "War is a noble cause."

Ezzard exhaled. "'This country will be drenched in blood and God only knows how it will end. It is all folly, madness, a crime against civilization.' That statement was told by William Tecumseh Sherman on the twenty-fourth of December in the year 1860."

Sondra nodded. "War leaves behind a myth and then the books, the plays, and the movies make it glamorous. No one likes to gossip about the suffering and pain and amnesia of war. Why is that?"

"The Bible tells me so," laughed Ween.

Tancy said. "Each side of war creates its own story and monsters and heroes which are all untrue, only the dead know the truth."

Senn smiled. "Dixie was a northern song."

Ween smiled. "War is a noble cause."

Sondra said. "The carpetbaggers were a gang of former Union soldiers, who were looking to resettle into a new life within the destroyed South. Therefore, we were all Americans, once again."

"Bullshit." Ween sneered.

Skippy frowned. "You receive an additional demerit that added to two demerits, Master Ween."

Constance said. "In the Civil War, a surgeon was the worst post. The greatest invention was anesthesia chemical chloroform which was invented around the 1850s. Queen Victoria was given an anesthetic does during her childbirth in the year 1853. Physicians could use chloroform to knock someone out before removing all the embedded bullets or to amputate a limb."

Iris Lee said. "War is presented as the 'bestest' and quickest solution for all sides."

Ezzard said. "The War of 1812, the Civil War, World War One, World War Two, the Vietnam War, the Korean War, the Gulf War, the Iraq War, the Afghan War."

Ween smiled. "Cooler heads, soft lips, and swifter pens!"

Constance said. "At the Battle of Bull Run, in Washington DC, folks watched the fighting while eating on a hillside, even Jefferson Davis was there having fun. However, when the battle got bad, everyone ran away back home. Everyone thought the war be over in a matter of days or weeks, instead four long bloody years."

Herman said. "War is not quick, glorious, or exciting."

"War is dirty, death, and profit," nodded Senn.

Herman nodded. "My great-great uncle served in the 18th Georgia infirmary and lived through the American Civil War. He returned back home to a devastated economy and then moved to US State of Texas. I'm from Texas, ya'll."

"My great-great aunt was told not to speak of the US Civil War," Iris Lee said.

Ween nodded. "We, Americans fight because we feel that the cause is worth dying for and remember the fighters serviced to the cause and honor the bravery and loyalty."

Senn said. "I have many pure feeling of loyalty towards my home, my family, and my brothers."

Herman said. "My great-great-great uncle died at Fredericksburg in the Civil War."

Tancy said. "My great-great-great uncle was a Union solider in the 9th New York Artillery. He fought at the Battle of Antietam and survived to go back home. He told his parents about the true horror of war."

Senn nodded. "The true horror wreaked on the entire world by a megalomaniacal leader was named Adolph Hitler in World War Two. Every man, woman, and child saw and suffered cruelly beyond any human's vivid imagination."

Ezzard said. "War is hell for everybody including man, woman, and child of every race."

"No exceptions, we are the human race." Effie nodded.

"War is truly about hate. It has nothing to do with race." Constance said.

Iris Lee said. "We are a mixture of faces, but our genetic coding bleeds into each one of us."

Constance said. "I hope one day that humans will end all the horrible wars and all the terminal diseases and the terrible poverty and that we will unity together the human race for goodwill and peace."

Skippy nodded with a smile. "This has been an excellent discussion thread for the day. It is time for lunch. Dismissed, students!"

07:06 pm

Pink tinted belle parlor room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

The day progressed with the range of the sun and moved down into sunset, where all the students suffered through another meal of social table manners while waiting mistress Symole eat first.

After the dinner meal had concluded, the two sexes left the dining room and separated into two different parlor rooms.

On the same loveseat of a brown and pink tinted pattern of dots, Sondra sat with a puzzled brow beside Lillard while admiring the yellow colored plantation gown and a pair of matching gloves on Lillard. Lillard continued to eat with the pair of gloves, after rude Effie had made that nasty comment about the pair of working hands on Lillard. They stared across the low table at Iris Lee, Constance, and Tancy, who occupied a long sofa of green and purple square-shaped pattern.

Constance held the teacup and non-matching sauce with a smile in a naked manicured hand. "I am enjoying our new school. I was very suspicious of my parents at first. But, I must admit that I enjoy the varied courses without all the academic deadlines of writing an essays and setting up a complicated chemistry set."

Lillard sipped and swallowed the tea and then coughed out loud, tenderly wiping the running snot from the nose with the napkin, turning to smile at Sondra. Sondra nodded in silence and then sipped, swallowing the tea.

Iris Lee sipped and swallowed the tea with a nod and smile. "A chemistry set is for younger teens in middle school. We are almost adults here, who will be attending college next year. And I enjoy the freedom of expression inside the Journal Writing class. It is a breath of fresh air."

Lillard sipped and swallowed the tea and then coughed out loud, wiping the watery eyeballs with the glove hand, turning with a smile to see Sondra. Sondra nodded in silence and then sipped, swallowing the tea while acting like a good southern belle.

Tancy frowned. "However, I don't understand the use for the needlepoint class. I know that my great grandmother did needlepoint. But, I can purchase and practice with the needlepoint items at home, if I desire too, in which I don't' desire too," she sipped and swallowed the tea with a grin.

Lillard sipped the tea and reached up, grabbing the naked throat with the gloved hand with a puzzled brow. Sondra turned with a puzzled brow to see Lillard, sipping and swallowed the tea with a smile. Lillard stared at Sondra and released the teacup and the non-matching sauce as the teacup and tea spilled over the low table while sounding with a soft ting against the glass surface. She slowly stood upright with a gasp and turned the color of bright pink on the face.

Sondra swiftly stood upright with a gasp and reached over, slapping a hand over the back spine of Lillard. Lillard coughed and then gasped, and the gagged, falling backwards onto the loveseat cushion and then sliding a body down, landing onto the hard floor with a loud thump. She grabbed the naked throat with both yellow tinted gloves while not breathing.

Symole swiftly stood upright from the red and gray loveseat with a gasp and ran across the room with a worried brow towards Lillard, "Out of way! Out of my way!" She slid down and kneeled over the ground body of Lillard, studying the face of Lillard and then the fallen teacup with a sad frown. "I am afraid that the tea bags are not fresh. Lillard is dead from a drowning."

Sondra looked down at the teacup on top of the non-matching sauce with a gasp and flung the item sideways through the air and across the room as the teacup slapped at the wall. The non-matching sauce hit the floor. The spilled tea covered the targeted furniture pieces. Then, she turned to stare with a sad face at poor dead Lillard in shock.
Wednesday August 18th

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

11:24 am

Third academic hour

Drawing Room of pink tinted chairs

Journal Writing class setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

The dead and blue tinted body of Lillard had been removed yesterday evening from the belle parlor room. The menu of regular academic classes had resumed like normal at eight am the next day.

Sondra numbly sat inside a chair through each academic course with a blank mind of empty thoughts of sadness. Now, inside Journal Writing class, she sat on top of the pretty pink silk-covered Louis, the fourteen court chair while listening to new topic of Southern women. The heated daily lecture continued inside the room from each student.

Iris Lee sat in the front row between Armistead and Constance, staring with a smile at Skippy. "Southern women were of equal status to southern men in the pinnacle of Southern aristocracy."

Ween sat in the last chair on the front row next to Armistead and shook a skull with a sour frown, "Naw."

Constance sat in the front row between Iris Lee and Tancy, smiling at Skippy. "Each plantation house had a unique system of law, money, and compliance of social rules, since the plantation house was the most basic unit of life in the Old South."

Effie sat inside the third row and nodded with a frown at Skippy. "The southern mistress of the manor represented the feminine power within the home and the local community. Even today, a southern belle struggles within her own home and the vicious local community of her family," she clapped with the rest of the teen females.

"The female power to clean the house is also commonly termed a housewife, the domestic sphere of reality, Effie." Armistead laughed with some of the teen males.

Constance frowned. "The outside view of the southern gentleman was corruption, immorality, manipulation, maybe defeatism, which balanced out the southern lady's inner view of morality, religion, welfare, caring..."

"She was the mother of the child and cleaner of the toilet bowl, a pretty good combo for a broad," Senn chuckled with some of the teen males.

"Her southern plantation husband supported her both legally and financially back then and like now as the American woman in the twenty-first century. As back then, within the Antebellum time period, she holds no power. Period and exclamation mark three times, ya'll! I sound like Frank Mangrove, my man in the Quartet." Ween tossed both hands into the air with a chuckle.

"Stu Gage of the Quartet said it first, assholette," Seen tossed both hands into the air with a smile.

"My bro Tom Sawyer invented that colorful and creative word, Sinner!" Sterling laughed with a smile.

"And my guy Austin Berrington, he is the deadly boss of the badass four-some," Ween laughed.

Skippy frowned. "I enjoy the Quartet novels that feature Austin, Stu, Frank, and Tom which is by ipam, too. But this is writing class, not fiction class."

Senn smiled. "A southern belle embodies the ultimate housewife, who provides free labor, domestic duties, and numerous babies," he chuckled with the other males.

Armistead smiled. "Face it, girls! The mythical southern mistress exists only to elevate her status equal to her southern man," he laughed with the other males.

"Boo," Constance frowned.

"Hiss," Effie hissed at the rear skull of Armistead.

"Go to hell, Armistead!" Iris Lee turned and frowned at the nose profile of Armistead.

Skippy frowned. "You receive one demerit, Iris Lee."

Iris Lee crossed both arms with a nod to Constance. "It was all worth it, girls!"

"Good one, buddy!" Ween reached over with a laugh and fist bumped with Armistead.

Constance smiled. "I would debate that the southern man uses his southern belle as a symbol of manly status, such like, beauty, charm, and money which shows off his masculinity against the lovely more demeanor feminist model," she clapped with the other teen females.

Senn frowned. "Fuck off, Constance!"

Skippy frowned. "You receive one demerit, Senn."

Senn crossed both arms with a nod to Sterling. "It was all worth it, guys!"

Iris Lee said. "Upon further examination, the role of the female of the maternal guardian cares for the healthy people along with the sick people, organizing the family for fun activities from school to church activities, and finally supports her loving husband while bearing the sole responsibility of preserving the entire family unit," she clapped with the other females.

"Well spoken, Iris Lee!" Effie nodded with a smile.

Ezzard smiled. "Actually, I believe with some other true Southerns that the South never died, never surrendered, never ended with the wind of farting stories..."

"Boo," Ween frowned.

Senn frowned at the rear skull of Ezzard. "What side are you taking here, Zee?"

Sterling smiled at Skippy. "I believe like my daddy that the South will continue to persist, to pursue, to piss off..."

Skippy frowned. "You receive one demerit, Senn."

Sterling frowned. "That is not all worth it!"

Ween smiled. "The South will not prosper like now and back then as our US economy tanks deeper into the shitty sewer treatment plant, going up faster than a rocket ship that trips into cold and dark outer space and then gets lost. For all those folks that lack faith, you can get out of the way and watch it end for us," he laughed alone.

Effie smiled. "I am going back to the topic of the day. She is a beautiful and pampered young girl, gracefully gliding on a pair of satin slippers towards the fancy ball, wearing an elegant ankle-length taffeta gown. She is coy, willful, selfish, and educated in the subjects of reading, writing, arithmetic, music, art, and the foreign languages, as well as, totally dependent on all the men in her life. Who is she?"

Ween shouted out loud with a laugh. "Queen Cleopatra."

Iris Lee smiled. "She learns to sew and to do needlework as part of her formal education, since her wardrobe attire is hand-sewn while preparing her for upcoming arranged marriage. She is the southern bell."

Sondra smiled. "When the southern bell married within the old antebellum era, she had an easy but busy life as the head mistress of the cotton plantation. Her duty was the responsibility for all household matters..."

Ween laughed. "She was the first housewife of the Southern royalty. Geez! A married girl's life has never changed, since the beginning of time."

Iris Lee smiled. "Her second duty was subservient to her husband. She was a true southern lady with virtuous, self-sacrificing, and passive traits. She was the perfect hostess, organizing the lavish balls that were part of the social life of the time, sorta like now days for any upcoming charity event. However, before her marriage, the rules of society dictated that the young girl manners, or maybe fate, where she was hidden in dress from the eyeballs of other including her beau. The southern belle always had a chaperone, always followed strict belle protocol, always adhered with stringent virtuous, and always obeyed her parents."

Constance smiled. "The romance courtship procession was both slow and guarded. If the slightest eyeball-glance came from a young beau of impropriety, then her innocent belle reputation was indeed tainted and ruined foreverly."

Ween laughed with a grin. "Indeed, it is me, too! I have ruined some naughty and nasty belles, foreverly, too, guys," he clapped with the other males.

Sondra smiled. "Proper social manners and etiquette was a must within the proper Antebellum society. Any single deviation was frowned upon by the gang of old pen hens along with an embarrassment of the family name."

Iris Lee smiled. "The southern belle ways has never ceased and continues to thrive and exist like here at Antebellum House as her elegant and graceful biological mother before her," she clapped with the other females.

Effie smiled. "A southern belle never shows her anger in public, because you can curse at him inside the belle parlor room at seven pm, ya'll," she laughed with the others.

Skippy frowned. "You receive one demerit, Effie."

"It was all worth it, ya'll!" Effie laughed.

Tancy grinned with a nod. "All the thank you notes are written rapidly by a southern belle to show both her graciousness and appreciative of her southern manners."

Effie smiled. "A southern belle never chews a stick of strawberry bubble gum or smoke a cigarette in the public eyeballs, because she uses the available powder room, ya'll." she laughed with the others.

Skippy frowned. "You receive another demerit for a total of two demerits, Effie."

Constance turned and winked with a smile at the nose profile of Ezzard. "A southern belle will act so helpless and confused, when it is to your disadvantage. Is that right, beau Ezzard?"

"Fuck off, Constance!" Effie frowned at the rear skull of Constance.

Skippy frowned. "You receive one demerit, Senn."

Skippy frowned. "You receive another demerit for a total of three demerits, Effie."

Constance wiggled a finger with a smile at the Ezzard. "Be very careful with whom you talk about here in the South! We are all blood-kin from one side of the family tree," she giggled with the other students.

Skippy nodded with a smile. "That is a very, very good point, Constance."

"Never let the boys know how smart and clever you are. Just charm, charm, and charm that dang serpent!" Iris Lee smiled.

Skippy nodded with a grin at each teen female. "I am very impressed with the unspoken and unwritten rules of a southern belle."

Constance smiled. "In the modern times, many folks feel that the ways of the southern belle are dying away. This is the exact creation of Antebellum House to re-enact, re-instill, and re-teach a set of time honored traditional old-fashioned ideas as a southern young lady in our modern society. Your mama and her mama were all taught to stand proud and exhibit charm, grace walking, talking, and acting like a southern belle. And most likely you have been sent here like me to become a southern belle, who possesses grace, manners, honesty, integrity, refined, virtue, sweet, respectful..."

"Arrogance," Ween laughed.

Skippy frowned. "You receive another demerit for a total of two demerits, Ween."

Iris Lee smiled. "My mama is a true southern belle with lots of different interests, besides raising me. She makes jewelry from dirt gem rocks, reads a book a day, and cooks all the familiar southern foods while charming her family and friends with her sweet Southern ways."

Tancy smiled. "My mama is a true southern belle, who is beautiful, smart, and built like me with the big set of boobs. She looks pretty, walks pretty, and talks pretty with her southern accent and handles the money, the house, the kids, and don't mind kicking off a pair of three-inched high heels to change the flat car tire on her sports car, which she did last summertime," she laughed with the other students.

Constance smiled. "My southern mama has a master's and bachelor's degree in biology and graduated from medical school. She loves art, paintings, and does her own art crafts with her family and her church and is involved in the music ministry at our church."

"We will be eating a basket of fried chicken for the lunch meal. Did one of your southern belle mamas make it today? Naw!" Armistead laughed with some of the other males.

Constance smiled. "We are challenged and have accepted that the old stuffy society rules of the year 1861 have expanded to allow for more freedom to women now. Today, the southern belle is still responsible for the house, the kids, and the bank accounts. The southern beau performs the yard work and house repairs, instead of dashing off with his gun to battle the enemy. I propose that the southern belle is and will always be alive and well, taking care of her meal, her man, and her manners," she clapped with the other females.

Ween smiled. "Beans, peas, squash, onions, berries, nuts, cabbages, yams, wheat, oats, peanuts, okra, black-eyed peas, tomatoes, rice, oranges, melons, chocolate, and southern women were the great gardeners, hunters, fishers, and cookers that survived the Civil War and the Great Depression up until now," he laughed with some of the males.

Ezzard smiled. "Dr. Thomas Jefferson was the formal governor of the US State of Virginia and the minster for the foreign country of France during the presidential term of George Washington. Dr. Jefferson brought back from the country of France vanilla extract, a bag of green olives, and bottle of olive oil from the country of Italy, a tubs of waffles from country of Holland, bottles wines from the country of France along with the recipe for home-made ice cream and pie meringues."

"I'm hunger." Sterling laughed with a nod and rubbed an empty stomach with a smile.

Tancy smiled. "The famous southern rich golden pound cake actually comes from the country of England which is dated back to 1700's. The southern recipe is one pound of butter, sugar, eggs, and flour."

"I'm allergy to eggs. I do not eat pound cake," Armistead laughed with the others.

12:09 pm

Dining Room location without walls and dark

Lunchtime meal setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Sondra sat with a frown in front of another empty platter without food and between Senn and Sterling, who whined for the lunch meal with an empty plate also.

At the head table, Mistress Symole sat and stared down at the plate of food with a smile. "A soup spoon is oval shaped like the bowl making it an easy sup from the rounded tip. Tilt the bowl away from you and push your spoon away from you with each bite, brushing the clear or pureed soup from the side. To avoid spills, the soup spoon is filled no more than two-thirds full. A fish knife is used to separate the soft flesh of the catfish from the body rather than to cut a bite using your dinner fork. The handle of the fish knife is held in the right hand towards the end of the shank, between the thumb pad and the first two fingers similar to holding a steak knife. The tip of the blade is used to fillet the fish lift the skeleton from the body and ferret out small bones. Southern table manners provide that the fish fork is held in the left hand, much like, cutting up your T-bone steak. For chicken, you remove the meat from the bone with a knife and a fork, then eat it one bite at a time. For a stack of cow or pig ribs, you scrape the meat off of each rib with your knife but can still use your fingers."

At the student table, Senn looked down with a chuckle to see an empty platter without food. "What are we eating today? Soup and catfish? Soap and chicken? Soup and pork ribs? I'm really confused and more hunger."

Sterling reached down and grabbed, banging the fork and the knife on side of the plate with a smile. "I vote for all of it right now."

The butler appeared and stood beside the collar bone of Sterling, leaning down and reached out, snatching up the fork and the knife with a stern face. "Your two dirty utensils require a bath, sir!" He back stepped and spun around, marching towards the open kitchen door.

Senn laughed out loud without touching the eating utensils. "Sterling gets to starve at lunch time."

04:14 pm

Last academic hour

Symphonic Band

Ballroom location of funny drapes

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Sondra continued to sit inside the metal chair and plucked on the single string while focusing on the musical note with a grin at the harp. "I think that I got the note singing pretty good now. Listen to me ping the B chord, Constance!" She played the musical note with a ping and a smile. Constance reached up and covered both ears with a giggle.

Marvin appeared and stood upright over the hair roots of Sondra, clearing a throat. "Your musical note was a little too sharp. Your hands are positioned correctly. You need to press the right pedal for the sharp half note. Then you have the correct musical pitch, Sondra." Sondra exhaled with a nod of annoyance and placed both hands on each string, resting a shoe on top of the pedal. Marvin nodded with a smile. "You are in position now. Please play a series of notes in ascending order that presents the pitches of a key beginning and ending on the tonic of that key. One, two, three, and play for me!"

She flung the string with the fingers as a piercing sound rattled inside each eardrum. She gasped in alarm and jerked both hands from the awful racket of her harp playing.

"Herman fell down, Master Marvin," the female turned and pointed on the opposite side of the room with a stern face.

Sondra turned with a puzzled brow to see three chairs, three teens, and three instruments that had been scattered over the hard floor.

Marvin spun around with a puzzled brow to see the sousaphone section, strolling across the room with a huff of annoyance, "My word! We have had an accident. Gentlemen, what has happened over there? Please, get up off the floor and stand up. If any one of you busted that expensive musical instrument, then your parents will be compensating us."

Armistead leaned over and scooted up the sousaphone instrument from the floor. "I didn't do anything, Master Marvin. Herman fell on top of me. Then, I fell on top of Lomas. Then, we all came tumbling down like the solid walls of Jericho, sir," he chuckled with the other band students.

Marvin squatted down over the floor with a puzzled brow. "Move out the way, young gentlemen. Please take your instrument into the instrument room and check for any broken pieces! I will attend to Herman," he stared with a sour frown at the grounded teen male. "Herman, please rise and stand up!"

Ween scooted out the chair and dropped down over the floor, reaching out, shaking the body of Herman with a puzzled brow. "He is not moving, Master Marvin. He looks trapped underneath the heavy sousaphone."

Marvin squatted down with a sour frown and reached out with both hands with a loud huff. "Help me move the sousaphone!" Three pair of hands reached out and grabbed the instrument, lifting the time into the air and stored back onto the instrument stand. "Master Herman, are you injured? Go and get the physician from the first cottage outbuilding, Ween!" Ween stood upright with a nod and a stern face, leaving the ballroom for assistance.

Marvin frowned down at the student. "How did this happen? Master Herman, please crawl out from underneath the horn..." One of the teen females stood upright from the chair and dropped the instrument with a loud scream, spinning around to face the archway, running out from the ball room in fear.

Sondra stood upright from the chair and turned to face the student on the floor with a gasp, covering the open mouth. The head of Herman was bent to the side and even with his collar bone. His blood continued to spill out while covering his neck and his chest.

Marvin gasped in alarm, "My word! Herman is dead."
Thursday August 19th

09:36 am

First academic hour

Needlepoint classroom

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Sondra stared with a worried brow down at the canvas of white tint while pondering her teen live here at Antebellum House. She had to do something and try to figure out what was happening here to the dead students. Then she thought of a brilliant idea of what to do and would hostage both Senn and Sterling for the noble deed, exhaling with a puff of boredom while staring down at the empty canvas of white for the rest of class time.

10:10 am

Second academic hour

Library Room location of mismatched writing desks

Money Matters classroom setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Sondra left the needlepoint class and appeared, standing inside the archway of the library instead of the Money Matters classroom. All of the instructors were meeting with the parents of the two dead students. The Money Matters instructor had assigned a project on the first day of class for completion before the end of the school term. Sondra moved ahead with a puff of frustration and stopped, slamming the paper folder on top of one of the writing tables, sliding down into the chair with a puff of annoyance. She stared down at the stack of old books and closed both eyelashes from too much excitement, stress, and worry, opening the eyelashes and turned to the side, scanning at the tall book stacks of ancient torn stinky brown manuals, feeling a set of warm fingers on her collar bone.

He had followed behind her and stopped, standing inside the archway of the library with a smile in silence, moving inside and stopped, standing behind her back spine with a chuckle. "What are you doing in here, pumpkin?"

She did not need to see his face and frowned at the book shelf. "I'm doing my homework assignment, so I can be Lady of Honor for tomorrow."

He reached up and gently slapped her collar bone for fun with smile. "No one else is in here but me and you. Come on out of the library! Let's go and do something fun and entertaining for an hour before Journal Writing class, where we don't actually write anything," chuckling.

She reached out and pulled one of the old books in front of her breasts, opening the first page, studying the hand writing with a stern face. "One of the books which comes from the world of my great-great-great granddaddy contains some shitty hand written and poorly visual proper names of folks. The real bank checks that were written to Antebellum House shows black ink that has now turned more like a light turd-looking yellowish-brown, when I get sick from eating too much colonel corn candy. If that is even a true color on the pin wheel chart, since I can hardly read the names."

"Let's go strolling and pick you some pretty wild flowers behind the row of outhouses in the rear of house..."

"I can't find the proper names of Mary Margaret Hackworth, William Earl McDaniel, Jefferson Anthony Quinn, and Montgomery Jonathan Sutton. Master Floyd says that they are really patrons here at Antebellum House."

"Come on, Sondra! Let's walk around the lawn and eat some fruit from the blooming trees..."

"No, Sterling!" She shook her curls and stared down at the yellow sheets of paper. "The point of school is to learn, so I have to learn something here," she slapped the old book shut which created a wind tornado of dust and exhaled the dust from the mouth, spinning around with a smile to see Sterling. "Do you have the boxed answers for Money Matters class, darling?"

He winked with a smile, "Maybe!"

She gasped. "You are done, done with all your homework assignment."

He winked with a chuckle, "Maybe!"

"Can I copy it?"

He frowned. "No."

"Why not?"

He frowned. "The Lady of Honor doesn't cheat on stuff, Sondra."

She gasped with alarm, "Right! Great point, Sterling! I guess that she suffers for the answers."

Sterling back stepped from her and stopped in place, swinging the hips, snapping the fingers with a smile and a chuckle. "Let's dance! Since, you don't want to leave the library. Take a break!"

She spun around and reached out, grabbing a different ancient book with dust, opening to the first page. "My homework..."

He reached out with a chuckle and touched the chair for fun. "A room full of mismatched furniture, this chair is a Queen Anne bow leg design built in 1702. I thought that we didn't get any academic grades here at Antebellum House..."

She exhaled with a puff of annoyance while scanning the first book. "We still have to pass all our academic subjects for entrance into college..."

"This is a Chippendale straight leg framework from the year 1760."

She exhaled with a puff of annoyance while reaching out, flipping through the pages of the book. "How do you know so much about furniture?"

"I read and I like to read and I like you. I find Antebellum House to be a bit of a mystery. The main house features, such like, fine furniture, precious porcelain, shiny silver, costly crystal, gleaming glassware, pine wooden writing tables to white marble table tops. This place is really strange and pretty at the same time. Are you not curious about our school, honey?"

"No. I am curious about answering all the Money Matters questions and completing the project before the end of the term."

Sterling turned to scan the classroom with a puzzled brow. "The library holds over 2,000 books ranging from shelves of entertainment novels of adventure, romance, mystery, and murder to world history, world literature, world geography, and other school text reference books. Yet, no one comes in here to read or to study," he stared out the windows. "It is like everyone is too busy with something else," he exhaled with a huff of frustration. "Does that make any sense to you too, Sondra?"

She stared down at the ancient book with a sour frown. "No."

He exhaled with a puff of frustration. The true high school student didn't know anything about her new school or her new classmates. Sterling/Cody had talked to numerous students also during social times, but no one seemed to recognize another new student name of Brone. He and his team of Skippy, Islander, Yorkie, and Fucner had been assigned to Antebellum House and locate the son of Brone. So far, Sterling/Cody could not find the misplaced teen and could not communicate with any of his team members. So, Sterling/Cody smiled at the cute female student. "I can help you, Sondra. I did mine all homework assignment. It is all finished," he moved ahead and slid down into the chair next to her at the writing desk with a chuckle.

10:03 am

Third academic hour

Drawing Room location of pink tinted chairs

Journal Writing classroom setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Skippy stood upright behind the writing desk and stared with a smile at the tall mound of black tinted journals, reaching out for the one on top. He gently lifted it up from the heap pile without sending the hill of manuals down towards the hard floor. He drew the notebook to a chest and flipped open the page, looking up with a smile to see each student. "Pure race, this is the chosen word for today."

"There is no such concept as a pure race," Constance sat on the front row with a puzzled brow.

Ween sat on the front row with a nod to Skippy. "There ain't no such thing as a pure race."

"You mean rich kids like us," Senn frowned.

Ezzard nodded. "I think it means like a concentration camp of prisoners, during any type of war, when peace doesn't set well for the enemy. For example, during World War Two, the people who were called Japanese-Americans had been housed inside a concentration camp making them like a pure race."

Sondra nodded. "Add the Native American Indians to the earlier reservations, another newly invented concentration camp of a pure race."

"Cooler heads, softer lips, and a swifter pen," Senn chuckled.

Ween smiled. "Christianity has always served to justify the murder and execution of every race of people. Look it up inside the Bible!"

Skippy frowned. "This is not a philosophical debate with Almighty God. We are all loved and acknowledged by Almighty God and his son Brother Jesus, Ween."

"Pure race is the rights and beliefs and ways of life of themselves, their loved ones, and neighbors, who respect their nation like America," Iris Lee grinned with a nod.

"A pure race exhibits full equality without violence and evil doings and doers," Tancy smiled.

"A pure race treats a person with respect." Sondra smiled. "Here, here!"

"A necessary evil," Ween laughed.

Senn smiled. "It is loyal with a set of strong belief and ideas, especially for the protection of your family members, your neighbors, and your friends, who are worth protecting with your gun and your life. Amen!"

"Hallelujah!" Sterling nodded with a smile.

"Yeehaw!" Ween laughed.

"Amen!" Ezzard smiled.

"A pure race is a fairy tale like the science of genetics," Armistead frowned.

"We should study and analyze the genetic contribution from the Easter Island population in the Pacific Ocean," Ezzard smiled.

Iris Lee smiled. "My mama received a genetic test. She found out on her side of the family tree that the DNA testing came from a male in the Middle East, not her Welsh grandfather."

Tancy pointed to the head of blonde hair and a pair of brown eyes. "I'm Finnish. The Finnish people have brown-eyed blonde headed babies, like me."

"Black or white colored skin don't matter, since we are all a mix of tangled genetic inheritance based on the Holy Bible which is both common sense and genetics." Sterling smiled.

"If we ended wars, disease, and poverty, then we would be a pure race of humanity." Sondra smiled.

Sterling smiled. "Human beings are the pure race. We should all pretend that there aren't any different cultures or colors or races or sexes. Yay!"

Iris Lee smiled. "I do declare that there are no differences in races. We are a pure race of humans."

Constance nodded with a smile. "After genetic testing of on a set of sick patients, the scientists discovered that we all are shared the same skin flesh, marrow bones, and red blood protein. All blood is red, not green tinted. Bones are all white, not black colored. Tissues are pink tinted along with our delicate organs."

Ezzard smiled. "The Hobbits species which had been uncovered and found in the country of Indonesia plus the Homo sapiens that had been uncovered and found in the country of Africa, they had interbred and shared a set of blood and guts, making a new species which was me and you and you and you..."

Sondra nodded with a smile. "And if all these groups had shared the same genes, then we are part of them too."

Tancy nodded with a smile. "I read that East Asian females were more prone to the osteoporosis disease, which is a genetic trait."

Iris Lee smiled. "Every single human being today has a Homo sapiens ancestor, who had lived within the sub-Saharan Africa country which was the first home of the Homo sapiens."

Ween smiled. "Abraham Lincoln was another politician. Nothing more, nothing less! Scientific research is nothing more and nothing less than bunk."

Constance frowned. "Scientific research is not bunk, Ween."

Armistead chuckled. "Okay. My dad is Irish and my mom is Indian, what am I?"

"You are an idiot, Armistead!" Ween laughed with the other students.

Senn laughed. "Each Irish male possessed an enormously thick skull that comes from face boxing which leads to slow thinking. Is that your career, Armistead?"

Iris Lee smiled. "I'm Sweden. Swedes have a mixture of Asian genes too."

Tancy smiled. "The best measurement is a clinical diagnosis for the pure race. When a sick patient has a heart attack, it is found that a certain race is more receptive to the heart disease, thus creating a new race mixture, in which, scientific research could help resolve some of the health problems that is associated with the genetic differences."

Ezzard smiled. "We are genetically different, not racially different."

Ween frowned. "There ain't no such thing, Ezzard."

Armistead frowned. "Someone sounds like a little Hitler over there on the second row inside the Journal Writing class, Zee."

Senn smiled. "Continental ancestry ties race to a geographic area."

Constance smiled. "Our ancestors had tied the race to a plot of land. Landmasses do not produce a set of children. People do. If you define the race by a gene rather than an ethnicity of prejudice, then all the lines would disappear and make on race, not a pure race."

Sondra smiled. "We are related to one another, if we could trace our family tree back to the country of Africa as one race, the human race."

Tancy smiled. "The scientists should test all of us and find out the mixture of races without our blood protein. Then, there would be no more black, yellow, white, or olive skin tones."

Skippy nodded with a smile. "Today, you have done an excellent job with topic of pure race, teens. It is time for lunch!"

06:01 pm

Dining room location without windows and dark panel

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

The day went fast, serving both lunch and academic classes.

Sondra sat between Senn and Sterling, gulping down the food while pondering the new plot inside a mental mind.

The butlers circled around the dining room and toted a small tray, holding a coffee pot and a tea pot. The butlers stopped and refilled each empty cup and as each student gossiped about the day's event.

Sondra leaned over with a smile and a whisper into the eardrum of Senn. "Meet Sterling in his suite in ten minutes, Senn..."

Senn chewed the food with a stern face. "But, my dessert..."

"Ten minutes, not fifteen in ten minutes."

"Can I eat your dessert, Sondra?"

"Shore! And you get upstairs within Sterling's room in ten minutes."

"Ok..." he ate the pecan slice.

6:15 pm

3rd floor level

Private bedroom setting of Sterling

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Sterling slammed both hands around the sports jacket while searching for the door key, when his private bedroom door creaked open. He heard a set of girly giggling and then the door parted wide open, revealing a tall and brown haired girl.

Sondra reached out and grabbed the sleeve of Sterling, jerking him into his own room. He stood upright a few feet into the room and dropped open the mouth in silence. She was dressed in one of the chambermaid's uniform with a black tinted cap that covered her bone skull and her hair strands. She wore an ankle-length black tinted dress without any piece of jewels. She had borrowed one of the Dogtrot Plantation staff members for a certain reason. Then, Sondra tossed another chambermaid's uniform at Sterling with a smile as the thick pile of chambermaid clothing hit his body and then dropped down, landing on top of the wooden floor in silence. "Get dressed! We got, maybe, thirty minutes, tops, before the real staff comes around for their room inspection of the evening."

Sterling stared down at the pile of clean chambermaid clothes at the boot toes with a sour frown and a matching tone. "Naw! I ain't wearing a chambermaid's uniform. Naw, Sondra! I ain't dressing like a fucking girl."

"Do it!" Sondra exhaled with a nod.

"Naw." Sterling looked up and shook his baldness with a sour frown as the knock sounded with a loud bang on the bedroom door.

Sondra scooted around Sterling and raced to the bedroom door, stopping and jerked the door knob open with a smile. Senn casually entered the bedroom of Sterling with a smile and halted beside the nose profile of Sterling, looking down with a laugh at the pile of chambermaid clothing at the boot toes of Sterling. She gently closed the door shut. Sondra spun around with a sneer to see each butthole of Sterling and Senn. "Both of you get dressed now, before I bloody your damn aristocrat nose holes. This is our only opportunity to raid inside Effie's room, since she is traveling by horse and carriage towards Loveless Mountain for her detention punishment of six hundred demerits," she frowned with puzzlement. "How many demerits do you get before you are required to visit the mountain?"

Senn continued to smile at the pile of clothing while understanding the command from Sondra. They were going to spy on one of the other teens for some reason. "It depends on the last violation, if it was bad or very, very bad."

Sterling frowned down at the pile of clothing. "How do you know that, Sinner?"

Senn smiled down at the pile of clothing. "Sondra is correct on both accounts. Effie is not inside her private bedroom which is located inside the belle wing. And Effie has nightly detention with Ween. I wondered when the little weasel would go Loveless Mountain. He disrupts and disinterrupts every single class with his obnoxious mouth and six feet and seven inches of superhuman arm span while grabbing an ass of any girl and a bicep of any guy. So, we get one shot. So, get dressed right now, Sterling!" He reached up and stripped off the jacket and the shirt, tossing each item down onto the floor, standing semi-naked with a chuckle. He reached down and grabbed the pile of chambermaid clothing, tossing the dress over the bone skull, wiggling side to side as the dress dropped down over his naked chest of a slender body with a chuckle, straightening out the long skirt with a smile.

Sondra moved ahead with a stern face and stopped, standing beside the bed mattress, reaching out, grabbing the clothes from the top of the bedcover with a smile. She spun around and tossed the second pile of black colored chambermaid clothes at the boot toes of Sterling, pointing down with a giggle down at the items.

"I am not dressing like no fucking girl. No fucking way, girl!" Sterling looked down with a sour frown at the pile of girly clothes.

Senn reached down with a smile and brushed a set of pretend linen balls off the borrowed chambermaid dress while staring at the smile in the mirror with a nod. "I make a cute girl," he spun around with a chuckle to see Sterling and Sondra in silence, straightening the skull cap with a smile.

Sterling continued to frown down at the second pile of black colored chambermaid clothes at the foot of his boots. "Why are we doing this, again?"

Sondra spun around from the bed with a worried brow and moved ahead, stopping and stood in front of the row of glass windows, seeing the manicured lawn, not the other teens. Then, she swung around with a stern face and dashed ahead towards the closed door, stopping and reached out, slowly cracking open the wood while looking side to side inside the hallway. Sterling slowly removed the shirt and the jacket, standing in a pair of blue jeans and a pair of cowboy boots with a sour frown in silence.

Senn stared at Sterling with a laugh. "Hurry up and finish dressing, Sadie! We need to go right now, before all the other males come up here to piss after eating all the yummy dessert, which I didn't get to finish, girl."

Sondra continued to stand inside the parted door while scouting an empty hallway for the other male teens, the campus teachers, or the cleaning chambermaids. She closed the door and swung around with a stern face to see the butthole of Sterling. "Hurry up and dress, Sadie! We gotta do this right now." Senn reached down and grabbed the edges of the long dress, swaying his body side to side with a loud manly laugh.

Sterling squatted down with a sour frown and touched, grabbing the chambermaid dress and skull cap, standing upright with a sour tone. "I'm keeping my boots on. No male walks around without his boots on."

Senn reached up and touched the skull cap of solid black hue with a smile. "I agree. We truck down the steps and then run around the back lawn, moving back towards the belle garconniere entrance door."

Sondra continued to stand and stare out through the cracked open of the bedroom door while seeing a clear hallway, gently closing the door shut and shook her skull cap of black tint to the door. "No! We go by way of the belle's parlor room up the..."

"The staircase, it is really haunted. Do you not know that fact, girl?" Senn turned and frowned at back spine of Sondra. Sterling jerked the dress up and over the skull, wiggling side to side, struggling to get the long dress over a set of board shoulders with a sound of loud grunts.

Sondra spun around with a smile to see Senn. "Yes. Everyone knows that."

"Naw," Sterling slid the dress over the body and lifted, placing the chambermaid cap over the baldness with a sour frown.

Senn moved ahead with a laugh and stopped, standing at the nose profile of Sterling, reaching out and slammed a folded fist into the exposed stomach region on Sterling with a smile. "You look cute, Sterling!"

Sterling folded downward at a fitted waistline with a heavy sigh and a whisper of pain. "Fuck off, man!"

Senn reached up and tucked a set of loose black tinted strands of hair back inside the chambermaid cap with a smile. "Shut it, Sadie! Before, I carry you out into the woodshed for a whipping, missy," he chuckled with Sondra. "Yes, Sondra. The staircase is really haunted. No belle or beau is brave enough to tromp up each step, including the older girls, and especially, me."

Sterling stood upright with a laugh to see the nose profile of Senn. "Chick shit! You don't wanna ever fuck a chick shit, Sondra," he turned and smiled at his own reflection inside the vanity mirror. The chambermaid cap covered his baldness and slid down over both hairy eyebrows. The dress was too long and too wide, but it covered his boots.

Senn nodded with a smile to Sondra. "So, we all go around the front porch."

Sondra stood in front of the closed bedroom door and parked both hands on the hips, shaking the skull cap of black hue. "No. The house staff is doing their jobs at the front porch and the side porch and in the Dogtrot hallway. We will be seen and questioned why we're out of place. So, we go up the haunted staircase..."

Sterling spun around and reached out, grabbing the arm of Senn, leading both of them towards Sondra and the closed door with a smile. "The staff is doing their working job. We need to do our job and finish our mission. Get moving, turkey! I lead," he moved ahead and stopped, reaching out and touched the door knob. The door slowly cracked opened. He leaned a nose bridge into the cracked opening of the door and as each eyeball searched the hallway for any curious wandering males. The hallway was empty, since the rest of the males were enjoying the extra plates of sweet dessert, where the teen girls didn't eat. Sterling had been forced by Sondra and the mission to abandon his dessert plate. But he had provided for that absenteeism by hording small bags and tiny boxes of junk food items, compliments of the kitchen staff. He opened the door and exited the room, slowly turning to face the staircase, dashing across the hallway and then tripped over the hem of the long dress with a gasp. Senn followed behind the back spine of Sterling and reached out, grabbing the dress on Sterling, before a nasty fall on the nose bridge. Sterling stopped in the air with a gasp and then a soft whisper. "Thanks, man!" Senn moved beside Sterling. They both slowly moved ahead over the hallway.

Sondra exited the room and followed behind the back spine of Senn and Sterling with a worried brow and a loud whisper. "Move over, Sadie! I lead us now," she scooted around Sterling and led down the beau staircase, reaching down and lifted up the dress, rushing down the steps.

Senn swiftly followed behind the back spine of Sondra towards the staircase, reaching down and hiked the dress up to his naked kneecaps, showing off the pair of ostrich cowboy boots, bouncing over the hardwood floor with a smile and a soft hum.

Sterling copied and caught up with Senn, leaning over with a puzzled brow and a whisper. "How do you know how to you walk in a dress, dude?"

"I got two older sisters. I'm the baby of the family. I enjoyed playing house, man." Senn chuckled with a nod.

"Gawd! You did the wild sexy acts with your two sisters." Sterling reached down and hiked the dress up to his kneecaps also while slowly moving behind the back spine of Senn down the staircase with a laugh.

Senn continued down the staircase with a laugh and a nod. "I got two truly evil twin step-sisters, who enjoyed playing house inside their bedrooms with me, too."

"Gawd! You're mentally unstable, man." Sterling continued to move down each step with a sour frown.

"Sometimes," Senn laughed.

Sondra held the hemline of the dress even with her naked kneecaps and continued to move down the staircase, shaking the skull cap while overhearing the nasty banter between the teen males and stopped, standing on top of the floor in a pair of soft sneakers. She held the breath, listening for any sound, looking for any movement coming out from the beau's parlor room. The room was both quiet and empty. The other teens and all the campus instructors were still consuming a plate of dessert inside the dining room.

Sondra leaned over and peeked around the wall corner for a visual inspection, when Senn moved ahead and slammed both naked hands into her ass with a chuckle. Sondra exhaled with a puff of annoyance and ran across the Dogtrot breezeway with Sterling and Senn on her dress tail.

They entered the belle parlor room in silence.

Pink tinted belle parlor room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

She ran across the empty parlor room with a stern face and glided up the first two steps, halting in place with a gasp of fear, staring with a worried brow up into darkness of the enclosed two-sided staircase. Sterling and Senn followed behind her back spine and stopped, surrounding Sondra while breathing a set of shallow breathes from fear. They stared into the enclosed staircase of semi-darkness.

Sterling leaned over with a smirk and a whisper into her cheekbone. "Go, Sondra! You got the lead, darling!"

"It's haunted," she exhaled with fear without moving.

"Shit! I go first. Follow me! Haunted, my ass?" Sterling swiftly stomped up to the third step as enclosed staircase howled coming from the windy air currents of a hot June evening in Alabama and moved ahead, stomping up the sixth step. All thirteen overhead modern lamps attached to onto the ceiling swiftly blinked off for one second in unison and then rapidly flicked back with brighter illumination. Senn chuckled beside Sondra. She stared with a gasp and as her heart rated dropped down into her set of neon green painted toe nails, staring at the black cap on Sterling. Sterling sneered at the three she-ghosts. "Fuck ya'll! I am here," he moved ahead and stomped upward to the eighth step of the haunted staircase.

Senn reached out and grabbed the naked arm of Sondra, hugging her into a chest, feeling her rapidly beating heart. He shoved her up towards the staircase. They both marched up the steep incline of twenty-six more steps as a light breeze tickled the tip of her nose. The same light breeze tickled the rear of his neck. Senn stopped and turned with a snarl to see the portrait of Margaret Mary Summerville, who was the fourth Head Mistress of Dogtrot Plantation in the year 1678 on the side of the enclosed wall.

Sondra continued to stand and hug into the chest of Senn, closing both eyelashes with a whisper of fear, "It is really haunted."

Senn shook the cap and narrowed both eyelids at the painted portrait, staring at the details of the painting with a sour frown. "I think..." A loud sound of boom echoed within the enclosed staircase. He turned to face the rear skull of Sondra and lifted her body into the air, racing them up the rest of the steps of the haunted staircase.

On top of the staircase, Sterling danced side to side and waved both arms for attention with a sneer. He reached out and snatched Sondra away from the arms of Senn, tucking her into a chest with a worried brow and a loud whisper. "Move it now! Where do we go next?"

Senn dashed up the staircase and moved ahead breaking Sterling and Sondra apart with both hands while fuming with fury. "We are the fucking maids, ya'll, not a set of lesbians on summer vacation in the mountains. Spread out like a set of working staff maids with one arm span apart. Where's her room, Sondra?"

"Effie's room is down on the third level," she moved ahead from the males and led down into the beautiful staircase that lead out into the flower gardens, a circular swimming pool, three rows of horse stables, and a row of outside brick buildings at Dogtrot Plantation.

Senn took the lead and hiked the dress up to the kneecaps again showing off the boots, climbing down to the third level while searching for her name over the threshold door. He stopped in front of the private closed door. Sondra and Sterling stopped and surrounded Senn. She reached down, pulling out a screwdriver from the pocket of the chambermaid dress with a stern face. Senn reached up with a puzzled brow and touched the name plate in capital letter that read: EFFIE. "Your name is over the door frame."

"Some belles are pretty dumb, Sinner," she jerked the screwdriver in-between the old latch and the door frame, wiggling it side to side with a stern face.

Senn chuckled. "Well, I'll only take my pick of the pretty but dumb ones, anytime day or night. Do you want one, Sterling?"

Sterling watched Sondra while scratching an itch inside the tight dress with a stern face. "Shut it, man !"

"Whose both pretty and dumb, Sondra?" Senn turned and scanned the staircase with a smile.

Sterling frowned. "Where is her bedroom key?"

She wiggled the screwdriver into the latch with a stern face. "The bedroom key is on her person at Loveless Mountain."

"O screwdriver, you can hot wire a door, Sondra," Senn turned back with a chuckle at the wiggling screwdriver inside the seam of the bedroom door.

She smiled. "I can click and then clank the mechanic bolt up and then to the right." Then the bedroom door slowly creaked open. "As the door creaks open," she giggled.

1st floor level

Private bedroom setting of Effie

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Sterling entered through the open archway first with a stern face, turning to scan the new room.

Senn moved ahead with a smile and stopped in place, blocking the wide archway, which was twice the size of a standard house door to accommodate the pretty antebellum plantation dress and three hidden crinolines from causing a speedy accident. He extended both arms into the opposite frames with a chuckle. Sondra moved ahead and slammed into his ass with a sneer. "Move inside, Senn!" Senn dropped both arms and moved ahead with a chuckle into the new room. She spun around and surveyed an empty hallway, gently closing the heavy door.

Sterling turned to face the side wall and moved inside the wardrobe closet for the hidden item.

Senn veered towards the clothing armoire with a smile. "What item we are looking for, Sondra?"

"We are looking for Effie's diary that comes from our Journal Writing class," she moved ahead and stopped, standing in front of the student desk, touching each item, such as, computer laptop, pencils, pens, and stack of paper.

Senn stopped and stood in front of the furniture piece, reaching out and opened each drawer, touching each item with a smile. "We are looking for her Journal Writing diary. There ain't nothing inside her personal diary. No one writes anything in that book worth saving or stealing."

"Dude, just because you write every damn day inside your personal diary: I greatly dislike this. That doesn't mean all the other folks are as slow and stupid as you, fool." Sterling yelled with a chuckle from inside the wardrobe closet.

She twirled around and moved ahead towards the side nightstand near the bed frame with a stern face, "Back to your search, Senn! And shut the fuck up, Sterling!"

"Just being honest, ya'll." Senn continued to open each drawer and touch each item with a chuckle.

"Just being beaten ya'll behind the carriage shed," Sterling laughed out loud inside the closest.

She stopped and stood in front of the bed mattress with a worried brow. "Have you got anything, Sterling?" She reached over and skimmed each hand over the bedspread, in case Effie had slept with her personal diary.

"Why do you girls need so many hats?" Sterling appeared inside the archway of the closet doorway, wearing a flop hat of pink hue that covered both eyebrows and eyeballs, twirling a sparkling tiara in one hand with a smile. "But I do like the crown."

"Steal it!" Senn reached out and touched the next item with a smile.

"No! Do not steal!" She spun around to see the back spine of Senn with a gasp. "What in the hell are you doing, Senn?" Senn held up a pair of girly panties in the design of blue and white stripes with a white bow into his nose, sniffing it with a smile. Sondra yelled in fury. "Put that back right now down into her drawer!"

Senn sniffed the pair of girly panties with a smile. "It's a silk throng and it smells like lavender perfume. Pretty too! Do you want a sniffy poo, too, Sondra?" He lowered the panties and extended arm with the blue throng to her.

She growled. "No. Put it back down into her drawer, Sinner!"

Senn withdrew the arm and reached down, grabbing and lifted two different throngs in the air with a smirk, sniffing each one with a smile, "Naw. I like the throngs. I just don't know if I want the demur angel blue and white one or the sexy hot pink and black one. This smells like lavender too. Sondra, do you use lavender body wash too?"

Sterling exited from the closet with a smirk. "I report that I have found nothing inside the closet, Sondra. But I want the blue one, dude." Senn reached out and handed the throng to Sterling with a smile. Sterling accepted the wad of blue with a smile and sniffed the fabric into his nostrils with a chuckle, gently tucking it down into the chambermaid wrist purse with a smile.

She exhaled with a puff of annoyance and balled both fists at the males. "Ugh! I have a pair of juvenile boys."

Senn leaned down and reached out, opening the draw and continued to touch each piece of clothing. "Nothing is here but more silk panties and bras."

"Do not steal her bra!" She growled.

"I like my belle tits naked, not covered." Senn closed the last drawer with a smile.

She exhaled with a puff of annoyance. "That's good to know, Sinner," she turned to face the bed mattress, reaching out and lifted up each pillow with a smirk.

Senn tucked the stolen pair throng down into the boot and stood upright from the floor with a chuckle, spinning around with a smirk to see her rear skull. "I can give you a list of my belle's favored attributes, before we fuck and made our love connection romantic and sexy..."

Sterling leaned over and slammed a folded fist into Senn, when Senn sailed across the room and into the furniture without a nose bleed. Sterling sneered. "You ain't fucking her, Sinner."

Senn stood upright from the furniture with a smile. "I might."

"Might not, dude!" Sterling sneered.

She slid the pillow over with a gasp. "Boys, I found it."

"Found what?" Senn rubbed the back spine with a sneer at Sterling.

"I found Effie's diary," she leaned over the bed mattress and opened the journal to the first page.

Sterling shuffled ahead and stopped, standing beside Sondra, staring with a stern face down at the page of the journal. "What does it say?"

"I see too much hot gossip with a set of lousy handwriting," she read out loud each sentence. "Day one, I feel them."

Sterling frowned at the hand written sentence on the page of the journal too. "What in the hell does that mean?"

She read out loud when Senn moved ahead and stopped, standing on the other side of Sondra. "Day two, I do not like her. Day three, she is not here anymore. Day four, he will exit today," she gasped.

Sterling frowned with worry. "Damn! Day four, it was the afternoon that Herman died from the fall with the sousaphone..."

"Naw," Senn frowned down at the page of the journal.

"Yeah," Sterling frowned down at the page of the journal.

"Naw," Senn frowned down at the page of the journal.

Sterling said, "Yeah! Herman died yesterday while falling asleep. Then, the sousaphone landed on his neck, splitting the vertebrate away from his spinal column. That is instant death, dude."

She looked up with a worried brow to see the far wall. "Whoa the stagecoach! Effie is the murderess."

"Steal the diary!" Senn exhaled with worry.

Sterling shook the chambermaid cap. "We can't do that. Anyways, she is not confessing to any crime here, much less a cold-blooded murder. She is writing in third person sentences, not with actually real life teen names..."

"Sterling's right," she looked down with a frown at the page inside the journal. "This is only half of the puzzle. We need more physical proof of her plotted and executed murders of each teen here at Antebellum House. There must be a spy or something. We need some hard evidence like...like in the police show. I know. We go to the Medical Center and search through the private clinical records and then examine the cause of death of each teen. Then, we can direct link Effie to all the crime."

Sterling shook the cap. "Effie didn't murder Herman. The tuba instrument did. You can't jail and execute a band instrument, Sondra."

Senn exhaled. "I agree with Sterling. Someone did tall and ugly Herman in, not the band instrument, but it was a body incognito, which might or might not be the teen girl named Effie. She had help. So, I like the idea of breaking into the Medical Center tonight while looking for some hard evidence, too."

Sterling back stepped from the bed mattress and his new two friends while waving both arms with a stern face. "No! We go back to our sleeping suites. Supper is done. We try this later like next week, after the hay ride," he pointed down to the journal with a stern face. "Put the dairy back underneath the pillow, Sondra! Did we upset any items inside the room besides the two stolen throngs? No. Let's go! Before we got caught and then exposed and then expelled and then exited from Antebellum House," he spun around with a worried brow and moved ahead towards the closed door.

Sondra reached over with a worried brow and replaced the personal diary back underneath the pillow, straightening up the bedcover and the pillows to perfection, swinging around with a gasp into the two open arms of Senn. He hugged her with a chuckle and spun them around to face the open door, dashing away from the bedroom and halted on top of the staircase with a gasp. The gang of true chambermaids had left each bedroom door open while entering the room, folding down the bed linens for the night.

Sterling spun around on top of the belle staircase and swiftly dashed ahead with a worried brow, pointing up towards the belle parlor room staircase in silence. Senn and Sondra spun around to face the back spine of Sterling while following him up the steps in silence.

Wooden belle parlor room staircase setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Sterling turned to face the staircase and swiftly dashed down the steps while feeling a punch of the cold air on the naked face from the she-ghost but more worry inside the guts, if he was caught inside the wrong place like inside the girl's housing unit.

Sondra moved ahead of Senn and rushed down the steps first, feeling the rush of cold air on a naked face and both naked hands without bothering to yell or piss in her girly panties. She would get into more trouble, if one of the true chambermaids found her while wearing a true chambermaid uniform rather than the required antebellum plantation dress. Senn followed very close on her ass with a chuckle while hissing at the plume of cold air on the cheekbone.

They stomped down the last step and turned to face the entrance door, seeing the back spine of Sterling.

Sterling stopped and peeked around the wall corner of the parlor room, seeing an empty hallway, rushing across the wood of the dogtrot hallway towards the beau staircase as Sondra and Senn tagged behind his ass.

Then, they all swiftly ascended up the staircase and landed on top of the hallway which was clear of any roaming males or chambermaids, who had already folded down each bed linen.

Senn dashed ahead with a smile and cuddled Sondra into a chest, rushing towards his private suite. Sterling spun around with a sneer and slammed his body into the face of Senn with a growl, reaching out and yanked Sondra from the arm of Senn. Senn sneered at Sterling. Sondra slammed a finger into her lips with a gasp in silence. Senn frowned and then exhaled in silence.

Sterling thumbed back over a collar bone down the hallway for Senn. Senn turned and pouted to Sondra while back stepping and scooted around Sterling, dashing ahead with a sour frown towards his bedroom in silence.

Sondra softly giggled at the silence comedy act over her person.

Sterling turned to face the closed door of his bedroom and reached out, jerking Sondra beside him towards the archway of the bedroom.

07:06 pm

3rd floor level

Private bedroom setting of Sterling

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

The door opened.

Sterling and Sondra rushed inside the private bedroom of Sterling. He reached back and slammed the bedroom door with a boot heel while ripping off the chambermaid dress, dropping the item down onto the floor with a stern face, moving towards the bed mattress. "Change back into your antebellum gown and then exit out from my room, Sondra! I don't want any trouble, until we can solve the murders of Lillard and Herman..."

She stood in front of the closed door with a smile and touched the chambermaid dress with a giggle, shaking the matching skull cap of black hue. "You sound so police professional. I don't want any trouble, until we can solve the murders..."

He spun around to see Sondra with a moan. "You don't have your plantation dress located here, only the chambermaid outfit. I see now. That was very clever. You changed inside your private bedroom and then walked around the front porch like a true chambermaid employee, since you are afraid of the three she-ghosts that occupy the haunted staircase too."

She nodded with a stern face. "I felt something like a cold she-ghost hand on my face. But, you're so smart, Sterling. All the girls think you're divine, including me."

He moved ahead and stopped, standing in front of the closed door, gently cracking open the wood with a stern face. "I'll go and check outside in the hallway. Then, you can leave from here," he looked with an eye peek in-between the partial crack, seeing the rear skull of an unfamiliar figure inside the hallway with a gasp. The figure rushed down away from Sterling and down towards the end of the hallway and appeared with a short body frame with a head of shoulder length brown colored hair. Sterling ripped open the door with a worried brow. "Stay in here, Sondra!" He exited the room and closed the door, standing with puzzlement in the middle of an empty hallway, watching the action. An unfamiliar short figure disappeared around the wall corner in silence. That part of the hallway led towards a new corridor of additional bedroom suites of males and then a rear staircase that went down towards the front porch.

A hand reached out and grabbed the collar bone of Sterling and as the male voice ordered into the eardrum of Sterling. "Get back inside your room, Cody! I got this," Fucner shoved Cody back into the side wall and moved ahead towards the wall corner with a worried brow, chasing after the unfamiliar figure. "Get inside and lock the door, Master Sterling!" Fucner disappeared around the same wall corner.

Cody/Sterling stood in place with a puzzled brow and then turned to face the closed door, reaching out, grabbing the door knob. The door opened. He entered into the room with a fake smile to see Sondra, slamming the door shut. "You're stuck in here with me tonight, Sondra. There's a guard..."

"A guard?" She frowned with puzzlement.

He laughed. "A gigantic guardian, he is like one of the seven feet tall fugly ugly chambermaids, making everyone get back into their private bedroom for the evening. You know us, boys? We have to be manhandled. Or else, we run wild around like a herd of mustangs," chuckled Sterling.

She nodded with a giggle. "So, I can't go back to my bedroom. So, I'm stuck here with you inside your private bedroom for the evening. Well, I'm sorry for interrupting your nightly activities. What do you do during the evening, after eating supper?"

Sterling reached down and ripped off the belt from the blue jeans with a smile. "I usually shit out all my turds down into the toilet water, clean my ass, and then read a book or watch some television."

She frowned. "Do you and the other males meet and talk about something important?"

He moved ahead and stopped, sitting down inside the single chair, removing the boot and dirty sock from each foot with a laugh, "Naw! We didn't meet and gather like a flock of pen hens over some hot gossip like the teen girls. So, what do you wanna do tonight until tomorrow morning, Sondra?"

She moseyed towards the other chair and sat down with a smile next to Sterling. "I don't know. I don't wanna disturb your nightly rituals. I guess..."

He stood upright from the chair with a chuckle. "I do have one nightly ritual. Do you wanna help me?" She nodded with a smile. He descended and slid down on top of the hard floor with a smile while kneeling in front of Sondra with a chuckle. "I gotta shave my skull. Touch it!"

She gasped. "Do you always shave on your bone skull every night?" Sondra reached out and gently rubbed both hands over his naked and bald skull.

"Yeah! There isn't a barber shop here. I started getting a receding hairline at three years old, after it started falling out at the age of two," he chuckled.

She continued to rub his skull with a smile while feeling the new growth of prickly hair follicles. "You have a nice curvy shaped head. At three years old, you started shaving your skull..."

He chuckled. "I meant that at the age of thirteen years old. I had grown facial hair early too. Mother Nature likes me a lot. My dad took me to the barber when I was five years old. I sat down in the chair as he poured a cup of warm shaving cream over my hair roots and then stroked it like a cat's tongue."

"Stoked it?" She giggled.

He stood upright from the floor and turned with a wink and a smile to see her face. "Okay. It's time for a shave and a bath. Do you wanna help me shave the noggin?"

She stood upright from the chair and dropped a mouth open, closing it with a smirk. "Me! You trust me to shave your skull with a sharp razor with all the mysterious murderers happening to the teens," she nodded with a giggle. "Yeah! Yes, I would love, too."

He winked with a smile at her and dropped open the loose blue jeans down onto the floor, exposing a naked chest and a pair of underwear briefs. "Great! Me and the Loveless Mountain have a common feature, a dome. Be bald! Be proud!"

She surveyed his naked chest skin and looked down to see his underwear briefs with a grin and a giggle. "Your skin is all suntanned and looks very nice. Are you suntanned all over your body, too?"

"Let's go and find out, darling!" He spun around and moved ahead towards the open wardrobe closet, entering inside for a few seconds and then he emerged, wearing a long towel over his private parts, holding up with a smile a red colored men's bathrobe. He moved ahead and handed her the bathrobe with a grin. "Undress and slip on the robe! I'll get the shower stall heated with semi-hot water for the both of us." She accepted the bathrobe with a pink flush of girly embarrassment.

07:20 pm

Shower stall setting

Hot water and soap bubbles environment

Sterling had powered up the shower with steam and running water, sitting on top of a wide plastic stool, closing both eyelids from the drifting steam and was posed away from the falling spray of water.

She had removed all her chambermaid clothing with a giggle and then slipped on the borrowed bathrobe over her nakedness, moving away from the bedroom and entered the bathroom, strolling into the shower stall of steam and water and stopped, standing behind the naked back spine and the naked rear skull of Sterling and a second plastic stool. The second plastic stool seat exhibited a set of items, such as, a bottle of body wash, a facial razor, a wet washcloth, a can of shaving cream, a pail of cold water, and a bottle of brown colored cologne.

Sterling continued to sit and shut the eyelids with a smile. "The warm shower softens my hair roots, cleans the exterior skin, and opens up all the hair pores. So, grab and pour the body wash bottle over the provided wet washcloth. Then, you must rub the washrag over my bald head." She reached over and grabbed the body wash and the washcloth with a giggle, squirting the bottle of body wash into the wet cloth. Then, she replaced the body wash bottle and reached down, applying the soap liquid with slight pressure from both hands, rubbing the soapy washcloth against the growth pattern of his skull with a smile He continued to sit on top of the stool with both eyelids shut while moaning with happiness. "O babe! Rub me more, doll! Do it, again, baby!"

She continued to rub his skull with a giggle. He chuckled with a moan. "Okay. You must spray the shaving cream all over my wet skull. Apply a good amount of shaving cream allowing it to stand for a few minutes to further soften up each hair follicle."

She removed the soapy washcloth from his naked skull and tossed the item outside the shower stall as it landed onto the dry floor. She reached over and snatched up the shaving cream, shaking the bottle. Then she sprayed the white cream all over his skull, rubbing the cream around with one hand with a giggle. "I like your ears and your head and you, Sterling," smiling.

He moaned with happiness. "O baby! I'm folly-lolly challenged with facial hair," chuckling.

She continued to rub the white cream over his skull with a smile. "Your skin is so soft like a baby's butt."

He smiled. "Do you fuck babies too?"

She sneered. "No. I do not fuck babies, Sterling. That's a sick remark!"

He chuckled. "Good! I was testing you, babe. So, you passed. Set the razor blade at the crown of my skull. Then, pull the razor down in the direction of the hair growth. Take it very slow, doll!" She lifted up both hands from his skull into the air and replaced the shaving bottle back on top of the second stool, reaching out and grabbed the facial razor, examining the new blade. Then she slowly rested the blade on the crown of his skull and tenderly pulled it down in the direction the hair grew. He moaned with a smile and a pair of closed eyelids. "O baby!"

She continued to slowly shave his skull with a smile. "I'm going to cut your skull, if you didn't shut up, honey."

"O. Please don't!"

She glided the razor with a smile back to front on top of his skull. Then, she reached over and rinsed the hairy razor underneath the running water inside the shower staff, sliding over and gently stroking the razor back and forth, until she had covered his rounded mound with a grin. "Now, I have shaved my first baldie," Sondra reached over and cleaned the razor, replacing it on top of the second stool with the other items with a smile.

"Now, apply a small amount of shaving lather onto both your wet hands and rub my wet head while checking for any rough spots that need to be re-shaved."

She smiled, "O. This is the fun part."

He grinned. "O. This is not the fucking part. You are looking for any surviving stray hairs that might exist behind my both ears and the nape of my neck."

She reached over and slapped the shaving cream into both the hands, rubbing his skull over and over the smooth parts. "I am looking." She finished the survey with both eyeballs and both hands with a grin. "Your growing baby hair follicles are all gone bye-bye now."

"Nice job, Sondra! Now, splash me with the cold water inside the pail. The cold water will close up my hair follicles then we can..." A pail of cold water flooded his skull, face, and the naked collar bone. Sterling stood upright with a growl from the hard stool. "Shit!" He spun around with a sneer to see her smile. "What the fuck was that? That's a freezing cold bucket of ice water with ice cubes, babe."

She rattled the empty pail with the a few more ice chips with a smile. "You asked me for the pail of cold water, son."

He laughed with a smile. "You are going to pay for that one, babe." She reached over and grabbed, tossing the towel his face with a giggle. He accepted the towel and gently patted the wet head dry. Then he applied the aftershave of leather and spice fragrances.

She scooted around the stool and stopped, standing in front of him with a wink and a smile. "You smell nice."

"You smell sexy," he dropped down the towel from a naked waistline and reached out, pulling Sondra into the chest and kissed her lips while un-wrapping her bathrobe with a soft moan of pleasure.
Friday August 20th

Hot temperatures with light rain and parted sunshine

09:40 am

First academic class

Needlepoint location

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

At six am, Sondra awake inside the same bed with sleeping Sterling from a restful sleep after a wild night of teen sex. She slipped out the bed and quickly dressed back into the chambermaid dress, dashing out from his bedroom, running down the staircase and across the hallway. She ran up the haunted belle staircase, without waking up the three she-ghosts. She entered into her private bedroom with a set of pants of worry. Then, she twirled and whirled getting on a pair of blue jeans and a pair of cowgirl boots before slowly strolling down the rear staircase with all the other females while laughing and chatting about the nightly gossip.

During the morning time prayer session, she sat between Senn and Sterling on top of the shared sofa and at the breakfast table while eating the food like normal, carrying the secret down into the grave too.

Inside the needlepoint class, Sondra twirled the needle side to side, staring down at the empty canvas of fabric. She had whipped sixteen strands back and forth while working on the creation of the yellow goose without finishing the design before the holiday break. Her mind was not present but ponders a week of deadly tragic events here at Antebellum House.

Lillard was poisoned by the tea or teacup or tea spoon on Wednesday afternoon. No one knew or was taking credit or the blame. Therefore, Symole had cancelled the evening tea party inside the belle parlor room for the rest of the school week.

Sondra stabbed the needle down into the square going through another empty square as the needle and thread dangled down onto the other side. Herman had been murdered by the sousaphone musical instrument the other day. Therefore, Mistress Symole had cancelled the symphonic ball practice forever.

Sondra felt both shitty and sad. She had never seen a dead person twice within my short life of seventeen years old. Her grandmother had died inside the hospital while Sondra had not been present for that death event. Her mom had told Sondra the awful news.

Sondra, Sterling, and Senn had found a book of physical evidence inside the private bedroom of Effie, who knew something about each murder but did not stab the deadly knife of death.

A male voice shouted out loud inside the archway. "I found you, finally."

Effie stood upright from the chair and moved ahead towards the archway with a smile. "What are you doing here inside the needlepoint room for girls, Sinner?"

"Hey, Efuck!" Senn smirked down at the petite female with a laugh.

"That's not my name." Effie stomped a boot with a sour frown of annoyance.

Senn chuckled with a wink at Effie. "That's what Zee calls you when you are not around the boys garconniere, Efuck."

"Sit down! Before, you get all of us into trouble, Effie," Constance looked up with a sour frown to see Senn.

Effie stomped a boot again with a sour frown of annoyance, "Naw! He ain't supposed to here inside the needlepoint room with the girls. What do you want here, Sinner?"

Senn pointed with a wink to Sondra. "I here to see my girl Sondra," he sneers down at Effie. "Go back and fuck the ponies inside the barn stalls, Efuck," chuckling.

Sondra swiftly stood upright from the chair and turned, dashing ahead and slammed into the body of Senn with soft whisper of worry. "Why are you...?"

"Sit next to me in the Money Matters class," whispered Senn.

"Master Senn, please go and attend your own class right now!" The needlepoint teacher moved ahead and slammed a body into his back spine, shoving Senn away from the archway, strolling ahead towards her assigned chair with a sour frown.

Senn sidestepped with a wink to Sondra and back stepped from the archway, leaving the classroom in silence.

Sondra spun around from the open archway and returned back to the chair, sitting down while pondering the secret message from Senn: sit next to him in the Money Matters class. She had always sat next to Senn in Money Matters class while pondering the weird visitation to the needlepoint class also.

Needlepoint class had ended. She moved ahead towards the Journal Writing class.

10:02 am

Third academic hour

Drawing Room location with pink tinted chairs

Journal Writing classroom setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Sondra stopped and stood inside the open archway with a puzzled brow. Senn moved ahead and slammed into her ass again which was becoming an annoying little game for her. He reached out and wrapped a pair of biceps around her tiny waistline, wiggling the fingers around her breasts with a smile.

She continued to stand before Seen and wait for the other students to find and pick out a seat.

Effie moved ahead and stood beside Senn with a snarl. "You are not supposed to touch a belle, sir," she lifted up the object with a smile. "You dropped down your girly hanky on top of the floor inside the needlepoint room, Sondra dear."

Sondra turned with a puzzled brow and reached out, snatching up the cloth wad from the cupped hand of Effie, tucking the item down into the front pocket of her blue jean. She would wash off all the germs from Effie on the handkerchief later in the afternoon.

Senn turned and stared down at the hair roots Effie as he was taller. "No one ain't ever gonna touch you either dead or alive, babe."

Effie giggled. "You can come over and touch me next time, Sinner."

"Careful there, bitch! You might get your fucking wish." Senn leaned down and whispered into the face of Effie. Sondra softly giggled at the manly threat of Effie's life.

"Yeehaw to that one!" Effie laughed.

Symole strolled ahead and moved towards the open archway with a sour frown. "Here! Here! What is that racket? You sound like a flock of pea hens. Everyone, please go and get into class..."

Effie pointed with a smile at Sondra. "Sondra is hiding an Easter egg from the other belles."

Symole frowned at Effie, "Easter egg? What kind of verbal encryption code is this, Miss Effie?"

"It is the kind that Sondra has." Effie moved ahead with a giggle and selected a chair.

Symole frowned at Sondra. "What do you have to hide, Miss Sondra?"

She shook the curls with a puzzled brow. "I have nothing to hide, Mistress Symole."

Symole frowned. "What are you hiding from me, dear?"

She shook the curls with a puzzled brow. "I have nothing to hide, Mistress Symole."

Symole reached out and snatched up the purse that hung off the wrist bone of Sondra. She examined the small purse and then opened it, drowning a set of two fat fingers down into the dark hole, drawing out a tube of wild cherry red lip gloss as Senn chuckled with amusement. She dumped the lip gloss back down into the purse and then saw the edge of the handkerchief that hung from the pocket of Sondra. She reached out and snatched up the handkerchief into the air with a smile at Sondra. "Miss Sondra, hold out your left arm to me. You always wear your handy inside the cup of your left wrist band, not inside your pocket of the blue jeans."

"Thank you, Mistress Symole!" She nodded with a smile.

Symole fiddled with the tiny cotton handkerchief. "Ouch! What is this thing inside the girly handkerchief?" She held up one of the needlepoint sewing needles in the air with a sour frown, "It is a weapon."

She dropped open the mouth and shook the curls. "No ma'am! It is a mistake."

"A mistake?" Symole frowned.

"A mistook." She exhaled with worry.

Symole shook the curls with a sour frown. "You have received thirty demerits and you have detention today right now, Miss Sondra."

"No." Sondra whispered with worry.

10:12 am

4th floor level

Private bedroom setting of Sondra

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Sondra ran away from the ground floor and dashed up the haunted staircase, running ahead and slammed into the closed door. She opened the door and dashed inside her room, standing in the middle with a set of tears and sobs of worry. The set of hot and wet tears trailed down both cheekbones. She was being punished for something that Effie did. Now, Sondra would spend the rest of the daylight hours and the entire dark night at the base of Loveless Mountain without a soft pillow or a cushy mattress or a warm blanket while sleeping on the hard wet ground.

She was not allowed to bring any items from her room but her body.

Sondra looked down at the tube of lip gloss and then tossed an arm, smashing it against the wall in fury. "Unfair! Unfair! I didn't do anything wrong here," she moved ahead and sat down on top of the bed mattress with a dad face.

Her personal mobile telephone sounded with a tiny ding with a new text message from one of the other girls when she turned and stared at the stupid devise. The dinging sound continued until she reached out and grabbed the mobile telephone reading the next message with a smile without texting back the person.

10:40 am

Front porch setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Sondra appeared in front of the walking sidewalk and stood upright in an ankle-length dress of brown, green and black which hide the cowgirl boots while hoping to blend into a green, black, and brown wild wilderness of the Leed forestland tonight.

The teen male dashed ahead and slammed into her ass with a chuckle into her eardrum, standing close to her body, "Hey, Sondra! Nice to meet you here on this beautiful hot day! Do you plan to stay and play the rest of the afternoon and the entire evening at Loveless Mountain, too?" Sterling back stepped and then scooted around Sondra with a smile and moved ahead stopping, standing next to her while staring down at the garden of pretty colorful flowers and fresh vegetables.

Symole and Clyde appeared and moved down the front porch steps with a stern face. They scooted around the line of young students and stopped, spinning around and stared at each disobeying student.

Symole frowned with disappointment at Sondra, Sterling, Ezzard, and finally Effie. "I am so disappointed in all four of ya'll. This is the first week of school. Each one of you could not make it nicey until the holiday break, while all your demerits are wiped cleaned from the slanted black board in my office."

"They are?" Effie frowned at Symole.

Symole turned and frowned at Sondra. "Miss Sondra, you have managed to acquire all your demerits at one setting. I do believe that this has to be a record here at Antebellum House. Congratulations, belle! You will be dropped off in the center of the Leed forest, where you will spend-the-night like a girly pajamas party without the pajamas, a sleeping bag, and a peanut butter jelly sandwich. You may not be hungry now, but you will be missing both your lunch and supper today. We are serving golden crusted fried chicken, tonight."

"Dang! I could've used my ten fingers for licking and sucking that white juicy meat." Ezzard winked with a chuckle at Symole.

Symole sneered. "Tonight, you can lick and sup on dry black possum meat that you catch with your ten fingers and maybe your ten toes. You will not be given any food or water or blankets, since this is punishment for committing some type of foul act against your fellow belles or beaus..."

"Wished that I had killed that little beau," Sterling snarled.

Symole exhaled with a sour frown. "You will be taken by vehicle, the faster method which goes straight into the forest land rather than by horse and carriage and then dropped into the middle of the woodlands with the wolves, the coyotes, the snakes, and the spiders as your night bed mates. You can camp at that very spot or move towards the river bank or up into the mountain while following a series of worn hiking trails by moonlight. It could be kinda romantic, if you possessed a loaded shotgun," she chuckled and then coughed covering her mouth with the rude comment.

"Bitch," Sterling sneered.

"Worse," Ezzard snarled.

Symole smiled. "You have been very obedient in following our verbal instructions by not bringing out from your individual suite any additional personal items but your person and your clothes. When you return tomorrow morning at the same time, your demerits will be wiped clean. I do not allow question, since we are the wardens and you are criminals. You are ready. Load up into the pickup truck. Good hunting, belles and beaus!"

Sterling reached out and touched the arm of Sondra with a smile, moving ahead towards the dropped tail of the parked pickup truck. "Ezzard, help me lift Sondra onto the rear of the truck bed, please." Ezzard dashed ahead with a nod and stopped, standing beside Sondra. They reached out and lifted up Sondra by both the arms and the legs. She gently floated in the air and towards the rear bed of the pickup truck in silence. Sterling laughed. "Bend your knees as we raise you in the air like an angel, so your boot toes don't hit the truck tailgate." She landed on top of the truck bed floor with a loud thump and moved ahead, sitting down on top of the tire wheel, holding onto the railing of the truck.

Effie followed behind the back spines of Ezzard and Sterling, stopping and stood in place. Ezzard spun around and reached out, lifting petite Effie over a collar bone, slowly swinging around and leaped up onto the tail gate with a laugh. He moved ahead and stopped, squatting down at the front of the truck bed with a smile. "Just slap her over your shoulder like me and then hop like a bunny onto the tail gate for the next time, Sterling," he gently lowered petite Effie down to the hard surface as she sat on top of the floor with a smile. He spun around and sat next to her, leaning over and kissed her cheekbone, pulling back with a smile and a set of secret words.

Sterling climbed onto the truck bed and stood upright from the floor, moving ahead, sitting down below Sondra and turned around with a wink to see her on the tire wheel. "Yeah, I'll do for the next time!"

Sondra exhaled with a sour frown at Sterling, "Naw! There will be no more next times." The truck jolts into a rolling motion along with her stomach of fluttering butterflies.

11:22 am

Loveless Mountain location

Leed forest setting

Hot temperatures with parted clouds of sun

The forest looked green and thick with a grove of tall shade trees with green leaves, a ground cover of small plant bushes and lots of pretty wild flowers.

Sondra stood upright from the tire wheel and moved ahead inside the parked pickup truck as it dumped off her and Sterling at the edge of the thick wooded forest. The old pickup truck slowly steered ahead and then circled around the grove of trees while slowly performing a putt-putt motion down the dirt road, driving back towards Antebellum House.

Sterling stood in place and tossed both hands into the air with a smile at Sondra. "Okay. We are alone. So did you bring the two teacups?"

She stood beside him with a smile, "Yeah! I gathered up all the items like you listed in my cell phone. Why don't the cell phones work outside of Dogtrot Plantation?"

He extended both arms with a frown towards her. "Lemme see the two teacups! Where are they? You didn't bring a carry bag or a purse like a girl. Are they underneath your hoop skirt?"

She reached up with a smile and slowly unbuttoned each button on the long dress. "I also note with my two eyeballs that you didn't bring a bag of survival goodies like some food or a bottle of water or a warm blanket either. We were visually inspection before living off the damn land for the night. I'm suddenly hunger for food."

"A southern belle should not curse." Sterling smiled at her strip tease of one dress underneath another dress that hid all the secret items. "You're smart, babe. You wore two dresses to hide the two teacups as your tiny breasts. Good job, Sondra! You get a special kiss from me tonight." She reached out and removed, handing off each teacup to Sterling. He accepted them and placed both items inside the jacket for safety, moving ahead, leading them deeper down into the Leed forest.

She followed behind Sterling spying on the wildlife of the forest. "I taped the two teacups onto my body and then taped the dress around my naked skin, so the glass would not shift or fall down towards my legs. And I am not a southern belle. I am seventeen-year-old teenager lost in the middle of forest Leed standing in pile of wet grass up to my ass near the rock base of Loveless Mountain. Geez! Even Mother Nature has it bad for me, since they name the mountain Loveless."

He moved ahead with a chuckle and climbed over the thicket of tree limbs. "The mountain is named after Jon Loveless, who built our lovely plantation schoolhouse, when he discovered the pink quartz on top of the dome which he used to decorate his home in pink granite. I admit the exterior of the manor is really pretty like a certain southern belle, who is trailing behind my ass." He laughed. "Catch up with me, girl! We got tracks to make before sun down for our shelter."

She halted with a gasp of fear, "Shelter? I thought that we were supposed to sleep on the ground or the grass or the something."

He moved ahead with a smile and climbed over the low plants. "Naw."

She lifted up the dress hem and dashed ahead, pulling up beside him with a puzzled brow. "Naw! Why not naw? This is the forest, where a set of little cute furry bunnies live and little tiny lady bugs live without getting eaten by something. Are we going to get eaten up by something? Are there bears or cougars here?"

He moved ahead and climbed over the rough tree limbs with a chuckle. "Can you shoot a gun?"

She halted with worry. "What?"

He moved ahead with a smile. "There! I changed the subject to take your mind off getting eaten by something," he reached out and wiggled a hand with a laugh. She lifted up the dress hem and dashed ahead, pulling up beside him with a fake smile, holding the hand for safety in silence.

They rushed through the set of low tree branches and the thicket of tall plant roots.

She tripped and he reached out and grabbed her body. She exhaled with exhaustion and worry. "I can't see my cranial shadow anymore. Where are we going? Are there wolves out here in these woodlands? Do you possess a hand gun? Please tell me that you snuck like a skunk a gun out here into our paradise wilderness!"

"Naw! I got something better. We camp at the river side with fresh water and fresh food by bright moonlight. We got lucky, babe. It is almost a full moon in another three nights. There's plenty of light for tonight, so I can see your face and then kiss it."

"Are you a cat or a bat or a rat?" She dragged each boot over the rough terrain of rocks, dry clay dirt, and broken tree branches. Sterling moved faster down an open path of high trees. She could see the tiny rays of sparkling silver on the side. "And I'm thirsty now. And I'm suddenly thirsty." Sondra spotted the river that flowed beside them as the cool air hit her face. She held back the wet tears of terror and torment.

Sterling flung back a small flask without stopping the walk with a smile. "Here you go! Enjoy!" She reached out and grabbed the flash, stopping and sipped the water from the flask and coughed out loud with a loud gasp. He swung around and stopped, reaching out, grabbing the flask and cuddled it into the chest with a smile. She gagged and then coughed out loud, beating her chest with both fists. Sterling frowned. "Hey! Don't drink all the moonshine," he spun around and moved ahead parallel with the river.

She continued to cough and then pant, slowly moving ahead behind him. "You could've at least brought your cell phone and ordered food for here tonight..."

"There's no electronic link out here in the boondocks for the cells. We got a flask of whiskey, you, and me. That's enough for tonight," he scooted around fallen tree limbs and low plant roots as she followed behind him. He smiled. "We're paralleling the river bank just a few more feet. We're looking for a shady cool cove, where the turtles like to gather and fuck and then sleep..."

She tripped over the plants with a frown. "Turtles like to fuck and sleep."

Sterling halted and kicked away a set of twisted tree branches while making a foot path towards the river with a smile. "Follow behind me! Once we clear off all the low trees, the river bank will be muddy and soft for some cooking and then eating and then wrestling and then sleeping."

She lifted up the dress and climbed over each fallen tree stump and set of low roots with a sour frown. "Joy! I get to love on a turtle."

He chuckled, "Naw, babe! I get all the loving out here within the wildness. We're catching, cleaning, and eating on turtle stew. I'll clean the rascals for you. We eat good tonight showing mole-face that we can survive the forest life."

She stomped ahead through the low plant roots with disgust and a whisper. "I'd really starve to death."

Sterling slid sideways into the muddy bank and stopped with a laugh. "We are here! Sit down here on this here clean and bumpy stump. I'll help you remove your boots."

She stared down at the tree stump with a frown. "I must remove my boots for eating the turtle."

He spun around and squatted, reaching out, patting the lumpy stump with a smile. "You must remove your boots for helping me to catch all the turtles."

She held the dress with more disgust. "Sterling!"

He stood upright from the ground and reached out, dragging her arm towards the tree stump, releasing her arm. He squatted down and patted the stump with a wink and a smile. "This is for fun and food. Sit down here, Sondra!" She exhaled with more disgust and sat down on top of the tree stump, lifting up a boot. Sterling pulled off each boot and sock with a smile. She stood upright from the tree stump and wiggled a set of clean and manicured toenails inside the red mud with a giggle. He sat down on top of the same tree stump with a smile and removed each sock and boot, stuffing the sock down into the boot while winking at her. "Now, we get to clean our toes in the water," he stood upright from the tree stump and reached out, grabbing her hand, moving ahead towards the river with a smile.

She slowly waddled behind him into the pond water with a gasp. "It's cold."

He released her hand and waddled a few feet ahead of her with a laugh. "It's fun. Come on and get deeper into the water, maybe going up the knee-high level. Snapping turtles are the best meals when humping it out in the forest like Robin Hood and Maid Marian. The common snapping turtle or Chelydra serpentina is native here. They are twelve inches in upper shell length and weight twenty-five pounds. They inhabit the creeks, the streams, the rivers, the swamps, the marshes, and the farm ponds like here. The snapping turtles eat anything dead or alive that they can find like fishies, frogs, crayfishes, drowned animals, and aquatic plants."

She stood in the water while searching for a snake, since a snake liked to fuck and sleep in water too. "Are you done catching one yet?"

He reached up and cut off the tree limb with the hunting knife with a smile, dropping the tree limb down into the water. "You can catch a snapper using a jug or a limb line which has been baited with cut up chicken livers or live fish bait. We are doing some hand-fishing, since we are in the woodlands setting. And I am standing here my naked toes in this cold water."

She waddled ahead and stopped, standing in kneecap high water, holding the dress with both hands. "My toes are getting numb, Sterling." He reached back and handed her a broken off tree limb too. She accepted the tree limb with one hand and held the dress hem with the other in silence.

Sterling held the tree limb with two hands, moving it up and down with a smile. "Take the tree limb and then gently thump the end along the muddy soil of the river, where the turtle likes to hide. The turtle will be buried half-way down into the mud use the tree limb to dug it up and then snatch it by the tail."

She exhaled with a puff of work while holding the oversized rough tree branch over the water. "I am supposed to grab the turtle by its tail. I think not."

He bent down by waistline and looked down into the pond water with a smile. "As you might guess, don't grab it by the mouth, since they have strong jaws and long neck, which is called a snapping turtle." She continued to hold the tree limb and watch for a snake with a worried brow. She planned to use the tree limb first on the snake, after she killed it and then second on the rear skull of Sterling for this dangerous food hunt. Sterling yelled out loud and slammed the tree limb down into the water. She back pedaled with a gasp from him and roamed around the set of yellow lumps inside the greenish water with fear. He continued to yell and slapped the tree limb down onto each swimming yellow lump of hard shell shouting with a loud hoot. Then he jerked one of the beaten and bloody turtles out from the water with one hand, pitching the broken tree limb over a collar bone with a smile. "It is suppertime!"

She whispered for her eardrums only. "Ah shit!" Sondra slowly turned around and waddled back towards the river bank, moving out of the cold water with a sour frown. Sterling waddled ahead of her with the wiggling live supper meal and slid over the mud, leading ahead into dry dirt. She followed behind Sterling and reached down to grab his pair of boots while holding the dress up from the wet ground.

He moved ahead towards a triangle of fallen tree trunks with a smile. "Can you please find us some berries like two handfuls of blue blueberries and red raspberries for our nightly meal? The turtle meat will not be enough for me," he stopped and spun around, sitting on top of the first fallen tree trunk with a smile. She stopped and reached down, placing his pair of boots behind his leg without smiling with a new wife-like duty. He reached inside the jacket and pulled out, placing the two teacups beside the dead and bloody turtle with a smile. She swung around with a sour frown and stared at the lush green plants. Sterling worked on the dead turtle with a worried brow. "Don't go too far from me, Sondra! There're plenty of berry bushes around here, just walk side to side."

She nodded in silence and sat down on top of the fallen tree trunk, sliding on each socks over a pair of wet feet, since she would rather have cold feet than bitten toes. She stood upright from the tree stump and slowly strolled ahead and climbed over each fallen tree, each small plant, and piles of dead leaves and pine cones while looking for her supper of berries too. She stopped and squatted down to study the plant, before touching the juice of the berry. A raspberry displayed light reddish colors and blue berries were dark blue which kinda looked like purple juice. She spotted the branch of ripen berries and reached out, picking each one at time and placed them all inside the skirt of the long dress, standing upright from the ground. She slowly spun around to see Sterling in the water while he washed off the bloody turtle for preparing the nightly turtle stew. She exhaled with a puff of worry and moved ahead towards the river while sliding and slipping side to side towards the fresh water. She was not removing the boots. The shoes could be cleaned later. She stopped and squatted down near the water, washing off the gathered meal for her supper, since she was not eating a piece of cooked turtle meat. She stood upright from the river water and spun around, holding handfuls of assorted washed and wet berries slowly slipping and sliding back to the dry dirt and next to Sterling. He sat back on both the kneecaps in water and blood with a smile cutting on a long tubular snout with the hunting knife as blood rained down on his hands, the grass, and the dirt. She turned to face the low plants and tan colored rocks with a gag and then a cough, covering the mouth from vomiting.

He worked on the turtle guts with the knife and a chuckle. "Don't vomit over the ground! Then, I can't eat it either."

She turned to see the pretty wildflowers with a whisper. "Ah shit!"

"You're a good cowgirl."

"I'm a city girl," she exhaled a rough breath, without vomiting.

"This is a camp supper. So, you're a cowgirl, tonight." He smiled. "Now, you cut the head off first and then stick a water hose down the new hole and lock it on with a pipe clamp. Doing it right is gory and it takes work. But, I am a good worker for our meal tonight."

She continued to sit and stare at the grove of shade trees, watching the happy squirrels play.

He continued to work on the dead turtle guts with a smile. "You lay it on the back and then cut around the bottom plate of the turtle shell, missing the organ sack, since it smells like the toilet bowl backed up with your shitty turds." She giggled and then gagged from the smelly odor of the fresh set of stinky organs that composed her evening supper meal. He continued to work on the dead turtle guts with a grin. "I'm cutting off the back legs now," he lifts up the object, wiggling it side to side with a laugh in her face. "This is tiny little tail here. You wanna save it and make a soup."

She stared down at the wet dirt, seeing a poor earthworm wiggle in the wet clay. "No."

He chuckled. "Well then, I'll toss away the carcass for the wolves later."

She looked up with a gasp o see the nose profile of Sterling. "Wolves live here too."

"Yeah, it is their home base. But, they'll take the turtle carcass, before coming after and eating us. I slice off the front legs and finish off with the neck. You're supposed to skin it, but we don't have time or the right tools to do that. I just have my hunting knife which is better than the damn turtle. Now, we cut up the stomach and liver."

She could hear the slicing whisks of the hunting knife against the thick tree stump, covering a mouth with a hand, staring up into the sky through the tree branches and green leaves and exhaled in and out with a set of slow breathes before vomiting up her breakfast meal.

He continued to work on the turtle with a grin. "You can eat the turtle's tail and neck, but you gotta boil them into a soup."

She looked down with a smile and stared at the single lady bug that crawled on the petals of the red wild rose. "Are you finished over there, Sterling?"

"The majority of the turtle meat is where the legs meet. It's the best-tasting parts, once we fry it up in a greasy pan of lard."

She turned and stared at the new bush of blueberries, reaching out and grabbed one, drawing to the lips and spat on the fruit washing off the bug shit before eating it. "Are you done over there, yet, Sterling?"

"We will be eating the turtle's tiny liver, heart, windpipe," he sliced the knife into the soft guts of the turtle. "Damn! I just destroyed the esophagus with the knife. I sorry..."

She dropped a face down into the palms with a loud moan, chewing the rest of the berry before vomiting. "O gawd! Please stop telling me the selected parts of your supper."

He stopped the cutting and looked up with a smile to her hair roots. "Are you sick or something, darling?"

"I am very nausea indeed," she held the breath and the mouth from vomiting, looking down at her boot toes.

He nodded with a laugh. "Good! My plan worked. I get to eat the little rascal all by myself. I'm chopping up the pancreas and lungs. Too bad! We didn't catch a pregnant turtle when you cut her open all of her round eggs look like a bunch of yellow grapes. Yummy to the tummy too! You know, a dish of turtle eggs is a delicacy meal within some cultures throughout the world."

She looked up and turned to scan the groves of trees while concentrating on the far away yellow flower which was so pretty, saying with a sneer. "Shut up, Sterling!"

"O. But, it is called the other white meat here in the South," chuckled Sterling.

She exhaled with a puff of worry and held the sobs of fear, looking up to see his smile, not the bloody guts of the dead turtle. "Thanks for taking care of me out here in the Leed forest, Sterling. I mean for you coming out here with me. Why are you here with me always?" She frowned.

He leaned over and started a small fire underneath the dead brown tinted tree leaves and tiny brown tinted tree twigs, reaching back and grabbed, sitting one of the teacups on top of the level fire. He poured river water down into the teacup from the first teacup and then dropped down inside the raw turtle meat, stirring the stew with a smile. "We parboil the turtle meat for one minute inside the first teacup that kills some of the bacterium." He looked up with a wink to see her.

She gasped. "What?"

"Just kidding! The cooking and river water makes the turf turtle meat tender and turns it white for eating. This is a young turtle. So, we really don't need to kill off the germs, since they are good for your guts. It is rolling with white smoke and hot heat now. This is good enough. Now, we pour off the boiled water and dump down the parboiled meat into the second teacup. You stir the water inside the second teacup, so the meat doesn't stick to the bottom, since this is our supper meal, until breakfast tomorrow. You can watch it brown and cook into white color and heat the guts for flavor and then we have supper. Wished that I had some onions, bell peppers, and stewed tomatoes."

She exhaled with a puff and sniffed the good odor watching the teacup smoke and boil in the river water. Small gushes of boiled heated water splashed over the sides of the teacup coming from the heated fire. She smiled. "It smells good."

"We can add parsley coming from the ground," he reached down and grabbed, crunching up the whole tiny leaves in both hands, lifting it and sprinkled the parsley over the teacup.

"Good thinking," she nodded.

He turned and winked at her. "Turtle soup is coming up really soonest, milady. You know, it's still a hot debate within the science world of how did a turtle acquired a suit of armor. Some science folks think that the turtle carapace had evolved from a series of bony, scale-like growths that came from the ancient dinosaurs which had been found on the ancient dinosaur armadillos. Another theory, the ribs grew over their arms and their legs which made a protective hard shell."

"Is it really dead?" She continued to view the jumping boiled water and floating turtle meat.

He laughed. "Yeah! All of them dinosaurs are really dead, darling. Didn't you pass your science class in the seventh grade? The smart scientists think that the Eunotosaurus was considered to be an early cousin to the turtle."

"Wow! You know I kinda miss the fully appointed dining room table and tablecloth with the seven-course meal and our nasty butler, who enjoy slapping my hand when I reached for the wrong utensil."

He turned and studied the water and meat, reaching out and removed the teacup with tail end of the wind jacket with a smile. "Well, we got you a simple one meal taken before the fire, milady Sondra. The meat has turned white. That means it is done and good to eat. I am removing the teacup from the fire. It's hot on bottom. But, try it now, honey!" He slowly turned and extended the tiny teacup with a smile to her first like a southern boy.

She exhaled with a puff of curiosity and reached out, tenderly grabbing a cut section of white turtle meat with a stern face. "Okay." She drew the meat to the mouth and blew on the heated turtle guts.

"We'll munch on the raspberries, black berries, and blue berries along with the turtle meat for our evening underneath the full moon and the bright stars." He reached down and grabbed, lifting up and blew onto the cut section of white meat placing into the mouth, chewing with a nod.

She gasped. "What does it taste like?"

He chewed and swallowed with a smile. "It tastes like a piece of bland chicken breast to me. But some folks think it tastes like beef steak. Others think it tastes like a bowl of chili when they add all types of spices to the meat. We can do this more right on tomorrow night. We can come out here and hunt for more turtles. The kitchen staff would love to make us a bowl of turtle stew." He reached down and selected another piece of meat, tearing it and handing it to her until they both finished eating the meat out from the teacup. She reached out and grabbed it, placing it inside the mouth, chewing the last piece of turtle food with a smile in silence.

Sterling reached out and grabbed the dead turtle body, slowly standing upright from the tree trunk, moving ahead with the dead body and Sondra. He stopped several feet away from the camp site and squatted down, digging a big hole, burying the rest of dead turtle parts before a roaming predator sniffed out the dead animal and then the humans. He covered the dead turtle with the dirt and stood upright with a smile, spinning around, wrapping the dirt onto the clothes, moving back to her with a smile. "Stand up and strip off the dress for me!"

She slowly stood upright from the tree trunk and reached up with a smile, unbuttoning the first button on the top dress with a pink blush. "I thought you wanted me to wear both of the dresses to maintain my body heat tonight inside the cool forest air."

"I'm your body heat today, babe." He stooped and squatted down onto the ground with a chuckle. "We'll build an upright tepee house with one of your long dresses while you lay naked inside my arms and between my legs."

"That could be happening out here in the woodlands tonight," she slipped off the first long dress and handed it to Sterling.

He reached down and dug up a hole, placing a broken tree limb down into the new hole, covering the hole with dry dirt. He used a wide rock boulder as the rear wall and the tree branch, posing fabric girly dress like a canopy curtain. He reached back and grabbed a handful of clean berries with a smile. "No time for horse play, sweetheart," he crawled over the ground and scooted underneath the dress tent, ripping off and placed the back spine of long jacket over the wet ground as their shared flat and boring sleeping bed mattress.

She knelt down onto the ground while getting dirty and hot with a smile. "I'm the prize here."

He chuckled inside the tent dress, "Naw, girl! I'm the prize here."

She smiled. "No foreplay. No kissing. Not enough a tight bear hug."

He scooted to the side and patted an empty space on top of the jacket with a smile. "This is a camp love like a pot of melting marshmallows without the sweet chocolate."

She crawled ahead and moved over the jacket, sitting down, crossing the legs with a smile. "I'm not thinking of melted marshmallows."

He smiled. "Ah! You feel so good sitting next to me and hitting my bicep," he chuckled. "You got a good punch, doll."

She winked. "We could move our relationship from good into bad and into badder, right now."

He leaned against the rock wall and chewed on the berries. "Darling, we are inside the forest with numerous flocks, packs, and nest of real live wild beasts. They smell your sex."

"Animals do not," she frowned.

He tossed the berry and caught it in the mouth, chewing with a smile. "I told you what. You go right ahead and test out that sex theory. I suggest that you stand near that tree about one hundred yards out from me and then go fuck your pussy vagina. Then you wait and see what mammal comes looking for. Will it be a beast or me?"

She tossed both arms and wrapped them around the breasts, leaning against the hard rock next to Sterling with a sour frown. "Fine! I do believe you. I'll rest and stay right here with you." A loud howl from a coyote pack broke her mental thought. She sobbed with tears. "I wanna go back to my room."

He leaned over and patted her arm with a chuckle. "I protect you, darling. That's why I got fifty demerits in one sucker punch today."

She turned and smiled at his nose profile. "Awe! You did that for me. What happened?"

"Yeah, I did. I gave Ween a bloody nose."

"What for?"

He chewed and swallowed the food with a smile. "Caleb asked me the same damn question. I still don't have an answer, doll."

She exhaled with a smile, "Sterling, thank you! I don't understand why we aren't sleeping on top of the dome, instead of with the wolves and the snakes," Sondra turned to see the tall and pink tinted mountain between the peeks of the trees.

He shook the baldness and chewed, swallowing the food. "There isn't any protection out there on top of the pink tinted flat tabletop mountain peak. Have you seen that place? It is flat and empty which is good for an open attack that bothers my instincts."

She gasped. "Ezzard is there. Then, he and Effie are in danger."

"Naw!"

"Why not naw? You just said that is an open place for attack from wolves or snakes."

"After fucking, a girl has this cuddle-thing going. Scientists have discovered that it is a hormonal reaction to sex. Well, a guy has a hormonal reaction to sex too which is called the protection instinct. He went there to Efuck her g-spot away from the spying eyeballs and eardrums of the school instructors."

She dropped open a mouth. "Do you mean that kids purposefully get a set of nasty demerits and then come up here to fuck each other?"

He hooted with a smile. "Hallelujah girl! It took you long enough to figure that one fucking answer out," Sterling ate the next berry and chewed with a smile.

"Do the school instructors know about this?"

He swallowed the food and then laughed out loud, "Yeah hell, honey! The school instructors all graduated from here too. I bet one of them probably initiated the entire demerit system to be alone with his naked girl at night underneath a full moonlight. Woof! Woof!" Sterling laughed.

She shook the curls and stared at the ground with a puzzled brow. "This school is very strange, almost odd with all the kids that get murdered, but the school will not shut down the doors or send us back home. I'm getting scared. My feelings wavier back and forth from scared to more scared..."

"It's your lust hormones for me."

She giggled. "Maybe! But, this school is different from my real high school and any other establishment that I have ever encountered within my short seventeen years."

"When is your birthday?"

She smiled. "My birthday is next spring in the month of April. I'll be eighteen years old, an independent woman."

"Did your parents graduate here too?"

She frowned. "Yes, my pair of biological parents graduated along with your biological parents. I know most of the kids by neighborhood or by family or by reputation of their family. Effie knows Constance, since their families live in the US State of Texas. So, why are you here, Sterling?"

He coughed up the chewed berries with the surprised question, "Uh! Like you, I was ripped away from my high school as a glowing football star, when my daddy..."

"Yeah! My daddy told me the same thing to learn about life and learn to be honest, friendly, nice, smart, kind, gentle, pretty, respect..."

"These are a set of good traits for a southern belle and a southern rouge," he reached out and pulled out the cigar from the blue jeans pocket with a smile.

She turned and gasped at the object. "Where did you get the cigar?"

He struck the match against the rock and lighted the cigar with a grin. "Books of matches, cartons of cigars, silver clean ashtrays, all stood and live on top of the sideboard inside the beau's parlor room for the taking."

"Stealing, you possess a nasty habit, darling."

"I like to smoke."

"The smoke will attract all the bears," she looked out through the tent dress into the dark woodlands with a worried brow.

He puffed on the cigar with a smile, "Naw. The smoke will de-attract all the biting ass bugs instead. Anyways this is your fault. You stole my heart, making you the real thief here."

She exhaled with worry. "Well, there is a real thief who is robbery of a soul there at Antebellum House."

"We'll catch Effie."

"I don't think that she is the real thief, robber, or murderer. She is pretty dumb in our academic classes and only interested in Ezzard..."

"Thaddeus, Dent, Ween, Boddie, Senn, me, and the male list goes on and on and on..."

"See? That's what I mean about her. Effie is here to find and get a husband, not a jail cell. She is working with someone. Who else do we not know at Antebellum House?"

"I don't know another face there at Antebellum House like you."

"You know what I mean. Who else do we not trust at Antebellum House?" He blew out the smoke and reached down extinguishing the cigar with a yawn. She turned and stared at the low rays of sunlight through the peeks of the tree leaves with a confused brow. "What time is it now?"

He said. "Based on the sunlight that is peeking between the tree limbs, it about four o'clock or so."

She turned and stared at him. Sterling flipped over to the side and curled into a ball on top of the dirt and jacket in silence. Sondra exhaled with fury. "What are you doing, Sterling? It is only late afternoon. We can go waddling in the water or hiking around the forest grass for wildflowers."

He closed both eyelids with a stern face. "You go and do those fun things but don't get to far from me. I'm catching some sleep, since I'll be up all night, after the sunset, watching out for the snakes, the coyotes, and the bears, stomping around us, looking for food. Those critters move and hunt at night. I only got a hunting knife, so I need my wits for the fight..."

"Fight?" She gasped in alarm and turned to stare out the home-made tent dress with fright while Sterling continued to rest and sleep on top of the cold hard ground for her protection.

Saturday August 21th

10:55 am

Leed forest location

Dirt road setting

Hot temperatures and humid with parted clouds of sun

"Where's the truck?" She yawned without covering the mouth and stared out at the dirt road leaning into the chest of Sterling while feeling hungry and tired from a long night of watching for a pack of bears, a nest of snakes, and a pack of coyotes. Thank goodness! None of these particular wildlife animals showed up at the camp site.

They had slowly tripped and stumbled over each thicket of fallen tree trunks, low flowering plants, and raced a couple of snakes while moving away from the river and the depths of the forest this morning.

Sterling exhaled with a sneer and continued to stare down a long empty dirt road. "They probably fucking forget about us. Ween told that it happened to him the last time when mole-face forgot him on punishment day, since she's both old and stubborn. I guess we start walking back towards Antebellum House."

She yawned. "We'll miss breakfast and lunch too."

He chuckled, "Naw, babe! We can stop and eat more turtle meat along our slow poke foot path while moving directly towards Antebellum House."

She shook the curls and hugged her breasts with a sour frown. "I am not eating any more turtle meat. I'll rather walk up the staircase in the belle parlor room with the she-ghosts before waddling in the cold water for another live turtle. No! I am not eating that today."

He smiled. "Well, turtle meat is really good and good for you when tired and hungry without a butler or a seven course meal."

She turned and scanned the forest with a worried brow. "Where are Ezzard and Effie? Aren't they supposed to meet us her at the pickup point too?"

He turned and scanned the forest while seeing the pink dome of the Loveless Mountain with a stern face. "I would guess that they both walked it back towards the House. The mountain is actually closer to the school campus then where we camped last night."

She exhaled. "I'm tired and hungry. And I want a hot long shower."

The pickup truck raced ahead from the dirt road and slammed the brakes as the brakes squealed in metal pain, stopping beside the nose profile of Sterling. The passenger window dropped down to reveal the driver of the pickup truck. Sterling turned with a sneer to see the driver. "Damn! You took fucking long enough, Fucner."

"Do you know the hired help, Sterling?" She turned and smiled at the driver, reaching out and grabbed the door handle. The interior cabin blew cold air conditioning on her sweat face.

Sterling sneered at the smile on his work buddy Fucner. "Naw, I don't. I'm just cursing him out for being late, while we burn up in the sunshine. Fuck you, man! I'm hot, sweat, and hungry."

Fucner smirked directly at Sterling/Cody. "I'm been playing with my dick for hours while parked right here underneath the grove of cooling over story shade trees. What have you two cute sexy teens been doing for the last hour or two hiking for fun or some else for fun?"

"Fuck it! And fuck you! Get into the cabin of the truck, Sondra!" Sterling reached out and grabbed the handle on top of her hand, opening the door. She slid inside the cab with a smile. Sterling/Cody climbed inside and parked beside her with a sour frown. "Let's get inside before the fucking driver decides to leave us behind again. I don't wanna walk back to the house." He slammed the door shut as Fucner drove wildly down the dirt road with a roaring laugh at his work buddy Cody.

Antebellum House

Front porch setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

01:05 pm

Sterling had bathed and cleaned off the dirt, bugs, and sweat coming from the Leed forest, changing into a pair of ripped and comfortable blue jeans, a white Toshit, and a pair of unpolished cowboy boots. He strutted down to the dining room and filled an empty stomach with three plates of hot food while hearing the music and laugher outside the House. He left the dining room and moved ahead, stopping and stood on top of the front porch with a smile. All the other teens were dancing on top of a wooden floor that was covered in hay or inside a hay wagon while riding around the landscape with set of loud ringing bells for fun.

The dance music was loud sounding and deafening to a pair of eardrums. Each hay wagon was pulled by a pair of donkeys, instead of a team of horses.

He chuckled at the amusing scene and then saw Sondra. She dashed out from underneath the front porch on the belle side. He chased after her running the tables of refreshment and the silly tables of childish games.

Sondra moved ahead and stepped onto the dance floor with the other teen, stopping and looking for Sterling. Ezzard came from behind her back spine and slamming into her body wrapping a pair of biceps around her breasts with a chuckle. Sterling halted with a sneer and then a frown of puzzlement beside one of the food tables. Ezzard moved ahead and cuddled Sondra while escorting her towards one of the hay wagons while leaving the fun hay dance behind.

Effie back stepped and moved off the dance floor, stopping and stood beside Sterling, parking both hands on the belt with a sneer at the back spine of Sondra and Ezzard. "Where is Sondra going with my man?"

Constance stood in front of the pile of hay in sweat while sipping the beverage behind the hairy skull of petite Effie. "He is not your man, Effie. Zee is a free spirit, who just likes to get up and go away from you."

Effie frowned at the back spine of Sondra and Ezzard. "Shut it, Constance! Where is your girl Sondra going with my man, Sterling?"

Senn appeared and stood next to Effie leaning over and bumped her shoulder with a smile. "He is going for a stroll towards one of the numerous hay wagons for a hay ride for fun. Hey, Efuck! I do believe we should go away and get it up too. What do you think, honey?"

Effie exhaled with fury at the couple of Ezzard and Sondra. "As long as, it gets me closer to that hay wagon with my man and that bitch. Let's go away and get it on!" She moved ahead with a sour frown towards one of the other available hay wagons.

"Right, babe!" Senn turned and winked at Sterling, returning back, following behind the ass of petite Effie for some fun also.

Sterling gasped and tossed both arms into the air. "Senn, come back here! Something is going on here with Zee that I don't particularly like. Senn, come back here right now!" Senn and Effie swiftly moved ahead towards one of the hay wagons while leaving the fun hay dance.

Constance frowned at the back spines of Senn and Effie. "It's the whiskey."

Sterling looked over her hair roots as she was shorter. "Senn doesn't seem drunk with whiskey. I know that he likes his tin can."

Constance scooted around with a giggle and grin running into the body of Sterling. "Senn is not intoxicated. The tin flask holds three ounces of whiskey, but he becomes free born while allowing his freedom to crumble all of his mental thoughts, while acting upon his physical hands. I'm going to be a physician, when I grow up like my dad. My mother is a surgeon. However, I'm more impressed with you, Sterling, since Sondra has dashed far away with Zee for the afternoon, the night, the evening, and maybe forever. Your dad is a pharmacist, who owns his own drug company. Do you get a supply of free drugs too? I guess you're one day run the family business from your dad. Isn't that right, Sterling? The day after college graduation, we can get married and honeymoon in the Virgin Islands. I love the Virgin Islands with the pretty sky of blue like your eyes and beautifully white sands like my skin. You remind me of an exotic place to visit. You're so sweet, Sterling. I wonder why Sondra took off with Zee."

"I don't know," Sterling continued to stare at the moving hay wagons with confusion, parking both hands on the belt, shaking his curls with puzzlement.

01:18 pm

Hay wagon ride of Ezzard and Sondra

Ezzard leaned over and cuddled Sondra on top of the bail of yellow tinted hay with a stern face. Sondra scooted away from his cuddle with a sour frown. "Why did you stealing me away from the dance floor? That was really rude."

He scooted closer to her with a whisper. "There is to be a double murder tonight which is to be me and you, sugar."

She gasped in alarm and said a quick prayer. "A double murder, it can't be true. How do you know this scary information, Zee?"

"You and I both have eye witnessed a belle or a beau get dead and gone from Antebellum House and never to return. The school investigated and labeled both of the two deaths of our class mates as a simple accident. Really, Sondra! I thought you would be smarting than that to stupidly accept a batch of pretend words from some adults."

She turned and scanned the forest woods. "Me! Who wants me dead? Sterling wouldn't harm me."

"And, either, would I? That's why I stole you away from Sterling and Senn, since I got a butcher knife that came from the kitchen drawer and a hand pistol inside my left breast pocket of my jacket. You're safe with me, because neither Sterling nor Senn carry a weapon."

She gasped. "Since, it is against the school's rules."

"And dying is against my rules. We load on one of the hay wagons and ride away from the hay dance for a couple of hours and then we lay low for the rest of the night. If our murderer wants a shot at us, then I get to see a pair of colored pupils, before I blow that motherfucker straight down into hell."

She cuddled closer into his chest and continued to scan the thick dark woodlands with a worried brow and a whisper. "I love you, Ezzard."

He looked back over a collar bone with a chuckle for a spy. "You love Sterling, so make shore he knows that. It is clear looking behind us. So, at the slow turn, we jump and roll to your left and land down into the flat meadow. Get ready!" He returned back to see the hay route and scooted them closer to the edge of the bench on the hay wagon with a stern face in silence.

01:23 pm

Hay wagon ride of Senn and Effie

Senn cuddled next to Effie with a laugh. She slid sideways and forward trying to break free of his hug, narrowing the eyelashes towards the front. "I'm a seventh daughter."

He leaned back into the leather seat with a chuckle, "Geez! Have you got six other ugly sisters like your ugly face? Lordy mercy! I might need another date for the dance tonight."

"A seventh daughter, of a seventh daughter has no males born in-between in the second generation. The seventh daughter can see the future and possesses special abilities. However, a third generation seventh daughter can perform a trick."

"What kinda of wicked trick, Efuck? Can you start a scary séance for the dead and gone too?"

She leaned forward towards the front, "Naw! But I see a dead girl a-coming," then she reached over and slapped away the body Senn, jumping off from the top of the wagon, rolling down onto the flat meadow, standing upright from the grass with a sneer. She watched Ezzard and Sondra together escape into the dark woods.

02:02 pm

Cottage interior setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

The row of pink and white colored cottages stood upright in front a manicured lawn. Some of the cottages held repairing equipment. Some of the cottages held a set of lawn working equipment. One of the cottages held Ezzard, after he had dumped Sondra inside the forest.

Sondra had been dumped by both Ezzard and her parents, sitting on the top of the dry brick steps while playing with the personal mobile telephone that still did not get a microwave connection from out of hell and then into the house of her parents in paradise. She stared down at the telephone screen while wishing her parents would call her back. Then, she recalled that Senn said the link was severed from the lack of satellite towers around Antebellum House. She tossed both arms into the air without throwing the mobile telephone into the skyline with a sour frown.

Ezzard slammed the door open and stood inside the open archway of the cottage moving ahead and stopped, squatting down with a whisper into her eardrum, "Hey, Sondra! I gotta a surprise for you. Do you want to come inside the little cottage behind me?"

She exhaled with a puff of frustration and turned to view the cute little cottage. The small structure was painted in pretty pink colors on each wooden plank with a white door and a pair of white window shudders. She turned and scanned the landscape without a teen that was having fun play at the dance floor. Then, she scanned the landscape for Sterling or Senn, not finding their individual tallness either. Ezzard seemed to be the 'bestest' buddy for the nice hot long Saturday afternoon. Sondra stood upright from the wooden steps and tossed both arms in the air. "Okay! What's your surprise?"

He spun around to face the open archway with a smile and moved ahead entering into the tiny open living room setting and stopped at the doorway. She followed behind his back spine and stopped a few feet into the middle of the room. He reached over and closed the door.

Sterling stood and hid behind the thick door frame inside the Dogtrot Hallway. No one would see him, unless the teen was coming up from behind his ass or heading into the dining room for a plate of food. Anyway, there was a series of food tables outside near the hay dance flooring too, where a roaming teen would not attend the other side of the House.

Ezzard and Sondra disappeared into the small cottage.

Sterling dropped a mouth open with a whisper behind the doorway. "O no! Ezzard is Brone's son that we have been searching. The cottage was burned last time when Brone captured and murdered the teens and their parents of a previous attendance of Antebellum House."

Skippy had made Sterling/Cody memory the entire working files coming from the US federal government agencies FBI, CIA, DIA, IRS, and NSA before dumping his ass down inside Antebellum House. Cody needed to contact Skippy or Fucner or Islander. He could not do that while scanning the crowded dance floor and rolling hay wagons. Their mission was both secret and silence. Sterling was trained to handle this type of situation within his mind and his body staring out at manicured lawn, seeing clear.

Inside the House, Sterling slid out into the sunlight of the breezeway and stopped, scooting back into the dark shadow of the building while killing the pretty flowers with heels of his boots.

Effie appeared and stood on the side of the House building, wearing a pair of blue jeans and a pair of cowgirl boots while carrying a sharp long knife that came from the dessert table. She slightly folded down into a crouch pose while bending the shoulders down into her breasts like she was hiding from someone, moving ahead and entered into the cottage also with Ezzard and Sondra.

Ezzard had mentioned that Effie was his girlfriend, so that had made perfect sense. Effie and Ezzard were working together as a team of murderers here at Antebellum House.

Effie really did know and did murder both of Lillard and Herman, who also knew the evil man named Brone and his biological son Ezzard.

Sterling did see the fleeing ass of Brone the other night, in which Fucner was tailing. Fucner might have captured Brone by now. Sterling did not know, since the team was still working on sheath mode. The purpose of the team here at Antebellum House was to find and capture Brone and then locate and capture the biological son. Now, Brone and his son Ezzard were about to perform a cold-blooded murder on innocent teen Sondra, who was out of sight from the fun day activity.

Sterling dashed ahead and moved towards the cottage, climbing up the steps and stopped, reaching out and touched, twisting the door knob to the side, opening the door with a gasp.

Inside the middle of the floor, Effie rested on top of the floor in a puddle of her own blood. Sondra squatted down on the wall corner with a set of sobs of tears, staring at dead Effie. Ezzard held a long knife that came from the dessert table which was dripping blood over the dead body of Effie.

Sterling stood inside the archway with a frown of fury. "What the fuck is this in here?"

Ezzard looked up with a worried brow and motioned with a hand. "Close the door quickly, Sterling! Come inside! I can explain everything."

Sterling entered into the room and reached backwards, kicking the door shut with a boot heel while creating more attention. Ezzard spun around and moved ahead towards the bathroom with a stern face. Sterling dashed ahead towards Sondra. She continued to squat inside the wall corner with a set of sobs and tears while staring with a sad face at dead Effie. Sterling squatted down and reached out, grabbing onto her arm, dragging Sondra up from the floor into a cuddle with a worried brow. "What happened?"

Sondra panted and then sniffed up the tears with sobs. "Effie, she barged in here screaming and shouting at Ezzard for being an ass. Then, she charged at him with that sharp knife. Ezzard had no choice. He snatched the knife out from her hands and then she started clawing with all her fingernails at his shirt and then his face. She was acting like a wild animal for some reason. He had to...to..."

"Yeah!" Sterling exhaled with a nod. "She was jealous of you and him on the top of the hay wagon in the hay ride."

She shook the curls. "No! It was more than jealousy. It was a vicious attack on Ezzard for some reason. I can't explain it."

Ezzard emerged out from the bathroom without the bloody murder knife and moved ahead, stopping and stood in front of a small conference table. He reached over and pressed a button on the top of the table, when the side far wall illuminated with a colorful design. Then, he grabbed a thick manual ancient brown tinted book from on top of the table, swinging to face both Sondra and Sterling. He pointed down at the small round table that fit four persons. "Please sit down at the conference type table. I will be more than happy to explain."

She wiped off the tears and scooted ahead, sitting down into one of the chairs in silence.

Sterling moved ahead with a sour frown and slid down beside Sondra for protection, leaning over and hugged her while scanning the room. The tiny cottage was devoid of any type of art paintings and a set of open viewing windows to see the manicured lawn or skyline. There was a large computer in the corner wall that was shaped in four different shaped metal boxes which hummed with activity and a set of small pinging noises. The rest of the room was empty, except for a circular wooden table in the center of the room that held a set of four chairs.

Ezzard slid down beside Sterling and tapped on top of the closed textbook with a nod. "Thank for surviving this round!" He chuckled. "I will explain that too. I want you to look and examine the computer monitor over yonder on the far wall." All eyeballs turned and stared at the wall, where a television plasma screen that was connected to a computer had been powered into life. He said. "This is a human karyotype for two people on the television screen. Think of it like a vertical DNA string but it has been cut and sliced and then shown sideways. The karyotype has twenty-three pairs of genes. Label one is a male, where his 23rd gene is XX on the right. The second label is a female, where her 23rd gene is XY. Do you remember from your high school biology class?" He smiled. "I have placed and planted each karyotype of the male and female side by side for a reason. Can you see something similar?"

She continued to wipe off the dry tears and stared at label one for the male and then compared it to the label two for the female which was totally different in both length, height, solid and partial colors of black and white when one of her eyeballs caught Ezzard. Ezzard back stepped from the table and moved sideways, dragging a blanket for dead body of Effie. Her other eyeball spotted something between the two karyotypes. Gene number eighteen was a vertical sequence of a set of little tiny squares of seven possessing the same shade length and colors. The first square was a solid black box, a narrow white box, a thin black box, a long black solid box, a long white solid box, a solid black box, and finally a thin white box. She pointed at the television screen on the wall with a stern face. "Zee, when I count the vertical boxes going down, I see that gene number eighteen is exactly alike with the same length, height, width, and colors on the male karyotypy thingy."

Ezzard moved ahead and stopped, sliding back down into the chair with a smile at the television screen on the wall. "It is called a karyotype. Yes, you are very observant, Sondra. I wanted your eyeballs and your neurons to spot and find the gene number eighteen duplication yourself, before I explained. Gene eighteen of label one is precisely a copycat of the gene eighteen of label two. When I press the remote control device, a new figure displays label number three. You can see gene eighteen is different. It contains only five boxes with the first box, a solid black, then a solid white, a solid black, a solid white, and the rest of the vertical line is solid black."

Sterling frowned at the same two karyotypes on the television screen at the wall. "Yipe! This entire lecture is totally different. What does it all mean to me and Sondra, Zee?"

She turned and frowned with confusion at Ezzard. "What is all this about, Zee?"

Sterling turned and sneered at Ezzard also. "What in the hell is happening here besides another teen murder by you?"

Ezzard nodded with a stern face to each face. "Please try and amuse me just for a little while longer. I promise with a crossed heart and a taste of my mama's apple pie, you will understand completely. I am pressing the button on the remote control device again. A set of proper names will appear over each label."

She looked back with a gasp to see each name on the screen. "Jesus Christ, is this about the same Brother Jesus? Where did you get an actually skin or blood or body DNA sample of Jesus Christ? How is that even possible?"

Sterling turned and gasped at the screen on the wall too. Ugh! I'm really confused here, Zee. Why am I confused and be-fucked?"

"Befuddled?" She turned and giggled at the nose profile of Sterling.

Sterling exhaled. "I feel be-fucked. Why is the proper name of Brother Jesus on that computer monitor screen, Zee?"

"The Shroud of Turin," Ezzard smiled.

Sterling gasped. "Your computer presentation is about the Shroud of Turin. The Shroud of Turin is a fourteen-foot-long piece of linen cloth which shows the imprints of a man with a head of long hair and a bearded face along with the markings that indicate both a set of nailed feet and a pair of nailed palms. I know of the myth too. Some folks believed that the shroud was truly used by Brother Jesus at his death but the faint imprints were very hard to prove to all neurons and eyeballs back then and present today."

"Is this about war and fighting?" She frowned with confusion.

Sterling nodded. Yes, it is."

"Naw, it is not," Ezzard nodded with a stern face. "A research team of trusted scientists here in the United States used carbon dating and concluded that the artifact is not a medieval fake. But it dates back to a time period between 280 BC and 220 AD. Mechanical and chemical thermal measurement tests conducted on the linen cloth and analyzed the fibers by the use of infrared lights that allowed the measurement of radiation intensity through a set of wavelengths. There were three tests which all traced back to the date of Brother Jesus."

She frowned. "It is a fabric cloth that came from someone's clothing back then in the year 280 BC."

Ezzard nodded with a stern face. "Yes, a cloth was kept inside the royal chapel of the Cathedral of Saint John, the Baptist in Turnin of northern Italy. The image is very commonly associated with Brother Jesus, His crucifixion, and His burial, a contact relic. The black and white negative image shows the clear picture of a man with a beard which had been first observed in the year 1898, on the reverse photographic plate of the amateur photographer Secondo Pia during an exhibition photo session inside the church."

Sterling frowned. "The origins of the shroud have been debated by scientists, theologians, historians, and researchers for over two hundred years. And the cloth has been tested repeatedly on several scientific disciplines ranging from chemistry to biology and medical forensics too. So, why is your theorem more truer than the others, Zee?"

She nodded with a stern face. "It is a linen fabric of some man with real body hair and skull hair fibers that contain microscopic data which has been scientific investigated and not solved. What does all this mean, Zee? Why are hiding out inside a worker's cottage on the school campus?"

Ezzard smiled with a nod. "The shroud is a rectangular mass of linen measuring fourteen point three feet by three point seven feet which is woven in three-to-one herringbone twill that is composed of flax fibrils. There is a distinctive faint brownish image of a front and back view of a naked man with his hands folded across his groin. The reddish brown stains are whole blood showing various wounds on the man that correlate with the yellowish image of the patho-physiology of the crucifixion as stated in the Holy Bible with the precise description of the death of Brother Jesus."

Sterling tossed both hands into the air with a sour frown. "And in the year 1532, inside the chapel in Chambery, within the country of France, the shroud was damaged in a fire and displayed a set of burn holes and scorched areas. The number of individual burnt holes went down both sides on the delicate linen and was caused by direct contact from molten silver compound during the fire. Then, fourteen large triangular patches and eight smaller ones were sewn back and covered the ancient cloth by a nun, who had repaired it. Then maybe, the blood belongs to the seamstress. There are many, many unexplained mysteries of the Shroud of Turin."

Ezzard looked down and opened the book with a smile, flipping through the yellow stained pages, stopping and pointed down at the sealed pouch with a set of hand printed words in black hue. "We have a set of real hair particles coming from the photographer Secondo Pia along with Bishop Pierre d'Arcis, who lived at the same church during the photo session. The bishop stated that the shroud was a forgery and that artist had confessed to the crime. Thus, he is not a child of Jesus."

"That proves nothing to me," Sterling nodded with a stern face.

Ezzard flipped the pages of the book and stopped, pointing at the text with a smile. "This is the hair follicle of Clement, the eight, who was the first anti-pope within the French cardinals. He drew his personal sword, commanded a set of troops, and put down in death over 4,000 civilians during the War of the Eight Saints in the year 1378. Thus, he is not a child of Jesus.

"Geoffroi de Charmy, he was a French knight of Lirey in the year 1353 and died at the Battle of Poitiers in the year 1356. Thus, he is the child of Jesus. Then, in the year 1453, his lady Margaret de Charmy deeded the Shroud of Turin to the House of Savoy. Thus, she is a child of Jesus.

"In the year of 1658, Duke of Savoy Emmanuel Philibert ordered the shroud brought from Chambery to Turin, where it currently lies in state now. He was the only child of Charles, the third, who was the Duke of Savoy and Beatrice of Portugal. His mother was the sister of Charles, the fifth, the Holy Roman Emperor. At the death of his father, Emmanuel inherited an empty honor, since his lands were occupied and administrated by the French Habsburgs royalty, his first cousin King Philip, the second. Emmanuel was once a suitor to Lady Elizabeth Tudor, the future queen of England but he had no money, so he married his half-first cousin, the Duchess of Berry, who was the daughter of King Francis, the first of France. They had an only child who was named Charles Emmanuel, the first of Savoy.

"Duchess Berry and Duke Emmanuel purchased land of Turin and then died there and was buried inside the Chapel of the Holy Shroud of the Turin Cathedral. Thus, he is a child of Jesus with his pair of biological parents. Don't you see the pattern here?

"Everyone in contact with the shroud has some spiritual relationship to the cloth. Guarino Guarini was an Italian architect in the year 1657, who built a chapel to display the shroud as he was a peaceful priest, a brilliant mathematician, and unknown writer. Thus, he is a child of Jesus.

"In the year 1694, Priest Sebastian Valfre improved the repairs to the cloth which had been performed by the nuns after the fire. He was born to a poor family and through struggle and effort managed to attend the University of Turin, graduating with a degree. Turning his devotion to the church, he administrated to the sick, caring with concern for the poor and needy of the kingdom, finding help for the widows, orphans, and providing comfort to prisoners while ministering the faith of Brother Jesus also. Thus, he is a child of Jesus. Do you still doubt any of this?

"In the year 1868, the Clotide of Savoy made additional fixtures to preserve the cloth which remained in the House of Savoy, until the year 1983. Then, the Shroud of Turin was given to the Holy See."

She narrowed the eyelashes and stared at each sealed and protected colored hair strands inside the ancient manual that Ezzard caressed. "How did you come about getting each one of those pieces of colored hair strands?"

Ezzard smiled at Sondra. "The clergymen were easy, since the church liked to preserve the remains of their priestly family member in various gross conditions for some religious purpose. The rest of the hair follicles were a statesman or a noble, who had been yanked out from an exhumed grave site somewhere throughout the world. For example, John Calvin in the year 1543 declared that the Saint John had lied inside The Holy Bible that the body of the Brother Jesus was only covered in one wrapping sheet around his body with a separate sheet around his skull. Calvin convinced folks that the shroud was a falsehood. Thus, he is not a child of Jesus. King Richard, the Lionhearted in year 1191..."

She tossed both hands into the air with a smile. "Okay, Zee! Okay! Okay! I do believe you that the people who had fought for the Shroud of Turin were the children of Brother Jesus. So what does it matter now? What does it all mean to me and you and Sterling and poor dead Effie?"

Sterling whispered for his eardrums with a worried brow. "You and your people will drench and drown in blood for your crimes of evil. Your men and appliances of war cannot contend with my victory. Fear me, my brethren in the foggy fight, because its waves are strong. Its dangers are perilous. Its beast is terrible. Its winds are tempest..."

Ezzard nodded with a smile. "Don't you see the pattern here? They knew it. Sweet potatoes!"

"You mentioned the topic of sweet potatoes before in our Journal Writing class. I love sweet potato pie too," she smiled with a nod.

Ezzard smiled. "The vegetable root of sweet potato has been radiocarbon dated coming back from 1000 AD in the Cook Islands. Sweet potato seeds came all way across the Pacific to Alabama. How is this possible?"

She smiled. "A sailor traveled by a ship coming from his native country to the sea island and then back to America."

Ezzard nodded with a smile. "Let's continue our history lesson! Marco Polo traveled to China in the year 1275 carrying back home to Spain spices, jewels, and silks."

"He is a child of Jesus," she giggled.

"We don't really know if he was." Ezzard frowned. "Between the years of 1405 and 1433, a Chinese captain, who was named Zheng, brought back the first giraffe to China and he then went back for more booty. He led seven major expeditions commanding the largest armada the civilized world including 28,000 sailors, 300 vessels of nine masts, and 400 feet long. Columbus in the year 1492 had 90 sailors on three different ships which was the biggest ship of 85-foot-long at the time."

She smiled, "Geez! It's a miracle that America didn't come to be known as Chimercia," giggling.

"Zheng was really a Muslim native that came from a rebel family, when he was seized by the Chinese army as a small boy. Like many other prisoners of the time, he was castrated by his sexual organs which had been completely hacked off."

Sterling laughed. "Thus, he is a child of Jesus that couldn't reproduce."

Ezzard exhaled. "The ancient China historical records of seventh century in the city of Guangzhou had 200,000 foreign residents, who lived there which consisted of Arabs, Persians, Malays, Indians, Africans, and Turks. By contrast, the largest city in Europe in the 1400's, the metro city of Paris totaled only around 100,000 folks. Within the twelfth century, the country of China was wealthier and more advanced and more cosmopolitan than any place within the continent of Europe. The city of Hangzhou was the capital of China at the time which had a population of one million people. That was very impressive. A half-century before Chris Columbus, Zheng had reached the continent of Africa and had learned about the continent of Europe which came from the hot lip gossip of the Arab sea traders. The Chinese sailors easily have continued around the world..."

"Yawn! What is your boring point here, Zee?" Sterling exhaled.

Ezzard nodded with a smile. "The Chinese government in the year 1525 ordered the complete destruction of all sailing ocean vessels. The greatest sea navy within world history had over 3,500 sea ships when that is compared to the US sea navy of 325 ships for today. All the sea ships were destroyed, setting China on course to poverty, defeat, and decline. Some researchers theorized that Asia was a dominant social ethos of Confucianism with the country of India and not by standard of greed. In contrast to Asia, the continent of Europe wanted both wealth and riches for the royal. However, on last sea voyage of sailor Captain Zheng, all his sea ships struck rock off the eastern coast of Pate. Then, the native village was sacked and burned down into the sand in the year 1440. The modern day archeologists cannot find one proof of one sea ship, one tomb, one pottery dish, one weaved fruit basket, one pair of silk pajamas, or one swapping of animals, plants, genes, germs, weapons or peoples."

Sterling exhaled. "It sounds like the same old shit of greed and money along with war and death of another civilization when they didn't pay their US incomes taxes to Uncle Sam," he laughed with Sondra.

Ezzard smiled. "The Order of the Knights Templar was founded in the city of Jerusalem in the year 1118..."

Sterling frowned. "We know all about the Knights Templar coming from numerous television shows and a few Hollywood movies and from numerous history books, Zee."

Ezzard smiled. "Don't you see the pattern here? They covered it up. In the city of Westford within the US State of Massachusetts, there is an engraved rock that shows an emblem of a knight with a shield that holds a secret map which leads..."

"To Leed, I get it now," Sterling winked with a laugh to Sondra. She giggled.

Ezzard frowned. "Inside the Temple of Solomon, the first temple of God, the Knights Templar found a written stone reference to a new land which was across the sea that was named 'le Mercia.' Therefore, the Knights Templar had traveled across the Atlantic Ocean inside their sea ships, maybe into North America. Maybe, they had arrived and been here before Columbus, the Vikings, and the early Celtic. Christianity was told and taught onto the tribes of Native Americans too. Numerous individual Roman golden coins have been found in some rivers in the US State of Arkansas. The Native Americans told and retold oral stories that even were written in our American history books about the pale faced man, who had crossed the sea from the east."

"Okay!" Sterling laughed. "So, the Vikings beat the shit out of the Templars on the very first play of game. Then, all the wild ass tribes of the Native Americans whipped all the pale asses of each Viking. Yay! The foreigners all got screwed while searching for something. What is the something, Zee?"

Sondra smiled. "Are you searching for the real party of sailors, who really discovered America?"

"No. You're missing my point, Sondra. Think beyond a person, a place, and a thing," Ezzard pointed at the television screen on the wall. "Gene eighteen is called the Jesus Strand, because only He possesses that particular karyotype along with all his descendants..."

"Wrong-o, buddy!" Sterling laughed with a grin. "There has been a Hollywood movie film made about this very same and sensitive subject matter which was most enjoyable to watch but not right. Brother Jesus doesn't have any children. And you're not a scientist, Zee."

Sondra looked down at the hands with a sigh. "I'm only a seventeen-year-old teen that someone wants dead."

"What did you say, Sondra?" Sterling turned and frowned down at her brown colored hair roots.

Ezzard nodded with a stern face. "I'm not a saint. I'm a human. This isn't about religion. This is about life. I might be a bad boy, but I promise that I'll grow up to be a good man like my daddy. He is a firm daddy, a tender husband, and a good businessman. He treats everyone equally and does not cheat anyone within his professional affairs. He does not get angry or mad, only careful and cautious with me and his wife, along with the other folks he talks and eats lunch with. I love my daddy. I want to be like my daddy. I am like my daddy and my mama, since they gave me the Jesus Strand. They both possessed the eighteenth gene which is identical to Brother Jesus," he looked up with a stern face and pointed at the screen on the wall. "Label one is the DNA coming from the Shroud of Turin which is also Brother Jesus. Label two is Sondra coming from her blood test that is required before coming into Antebellum House." She gasped in alarm with Sterling.

Ezzard nodded with a stern face and reached down, pressing the button on the table. "I am pressing the button now. On the television screen, the three figures morph into five figures with labels one through five. The gene is fixed inside the host or hostess as stated by them. Nothing can replace it, destroy it, or mutate it. But, it is downloaded into your DNA makeup through your mama and your daddy, who are the only one that possesses it. No two humans are genetically identical, even a set of twins develop from one zygote. They have their own unique set of chromosomes which accounts for the differences in their appearance, personality, behavior, and free will.

"However, the Jesus Strand never ever mutates but is solely passed down inside gene eighteen to the biological offspring. Genetics is the study of human DNA. It has both evolutionary and medically benefits helping a future scientist understand and cure all diseases of people coming from every geographic region on planet Earth. New research studies have found that a child has sixty new mutations within their DNA strand coming from their set of parents or a set of biological grandparents or a set of biological great grandparents which changes the child at birth within the brain patterns down to the stomach lining. In biology, a cline is a continuum of the same species, populations, races, or forms of organisms that exhibit one single gene cline which is presented defined and measured as the Jesus Strand within gene number eighteen." Ezzard looked down and pressed a new button with a sigh. "I am pressing the button again. The computer screen fills with the proper names."

Sterling turned and gasped at the screen. "My name is shown over label number five."

Ezzard smiled up at the screen. "Yes. I'm not surprised. My name is over label number four. I feel very fortunate to be selected with the Jesus Strand also. Think about it, ya'll! The eighteenth gene has been passed down from a human to a human, to a human from a generation down to a generation, to a generation for over 2,000 years. There is no family tree hanging on the living room wall. No marble tomb stones. No sculptures upon a pedestal. No yellowish animal hide parchment. No oral stories sung around the camp fire. It is only us, me, you, and them out there."

"How many people possess the Jesus Strand, Zee?" She stared at the screen.

Ezzard shrugged the shoulder with a sigh at the screen. "We don't really know."

Sterling slapped the table with a stern face. "This is why we are being hunted and killed like a pack of rabid dogs."

Ezzard nodded with a worried brow. "Someone else knows about gene number eighteen within the DNA string of each human. See? There on the monitor, label number three is Effie."

Sterling turned and frowned down at the covered dead body and then returned back to see Ezzard with a worried brow. "Why was Effie invited here to attend Antebellum House? Who invited her here? That is where we can start our in-depth police investigation."

She lifted a palm with a worried brow. "I can answer that question. The board of directors, where my dad sits voted to admit a new crop of classmates like Lillard and Effie. Wow! Effie is not a child of Jesus. Antebellum House did this, because the US Federal Government noticed that we were operating a high school outside the normal range of the government regulations. Yes, we are an independent school from the local and state government. But, we must follow the rules. Or we get hammered by the government regulations per my dad. So they will send in a team of lawyers and accountants to investigate the school."

Sterling frowned. "So who cares?"

Ezzard nodded with a stern face. "It is more complicated from a legal point of view. We don't pay any tuition money here to the school. The only requirement, one of your family members had served in the Civil War of 1863 or the Revolutionary War of 1776, since that was our first battle as a gang of independent Americans. We don't pay any money. Your parents don't provide funding for your room, food, or books."

"What books, babe?" Sterling chuckled.

Ezzard nodded with a stern face. "They offer up a lump sum money donation to the school based on whatever financial measuring stick, where my daddy has discussed with the board of directors."

Sterling frowned. "If some family donates money, then their kid should be able to attend Antebellum House."

Ezzard nodded, "Exactly! That has happened too here. Antebellum House must allow the other kids in for free, if their blood-relative was a veteran of a war, before the year 1865 too."

She smiled. "So, that creates a small pool of teens."

"So, that creates a small team of trouble," frowned Ezzard.

She shook her curls. "Trouble, no! We are only kids here having some fun and making some trouble. Let the kids in! Then, if they didn't like it after a year, then let them leave like Lillard. She planned to leave here at holiday break."

Ezzard frowned. "Hmm! How can I explain this in a very delicate way? We are here to match, mate, and marry."

"What?" She gasped and viewed Sterling.

"You did ask for the truth," chuckled Ezzard. "The school only allows sixteen to eighteen years old. We are sent here by our parents to date and find our lifetime mate. When we turn eighteen, the legal age of marriage, with permission of our parents within the law of Alabama, we marry and then take over the family business or go to college or do other stuff."

"What?" she gasped again.

"How many times do I need to explain our purpose here at Antebellum House? Are you dense or dumb, honey?"

"I'm stunned. I'm here to marry my future husband." She stared with a puzzled brow at Sterling.

Ezzard nodded with a smile. "Any beau that tickles your fancy and you're here to tickle my fanny. Sorry! That was poor taste at poor moment of time!"

Sterling exhaled. "Stick to the main subject, Zee! So, you knew all along that she wasn't a child of Jesus, but you fucked her anyways for something."

Ezzard turned and frowned at the dead body of Effie, returning back to see Sterling. "That bitch definitely got a good ride on my pair of golden balls. I knew that she didn't possess the eighteenth gene, but I didn't know that the bitch was trying to kill me or you. Honestly, that blew my homegrown cotton socks out of my pair of polished cowboy boots."

"Effie must have known that you and she both possessed the Jesus Strand gene," Sterling nodded.

"I guess so. But she is not the mastermind here. The girl was both a bad ass and a bad academic student. And don't look at me like that with your pair of sad doe eyeballs. I do not know who the killer is. Yes, we will find out which is going to be dangerous to almost all the other students."

Sterling turned and scanned the room and returned back to see Ezzard with a stern face. "Wait! The other students here at Antebellum House must all also be the children of Jesus too."

Ezzard clapped with a smile. "You finally got it, Sterling!"

Sterling exhaled. "So, everyone is in danger that possesses the Jesus Strand. Who doesn't possess the eighteenth gene within their individual DNA string?"

Ezzard frowned. "I agree. My daddy gave me all this secret shit during the summer session. Believe me! I was shocked too. My understanding, no one knows about the Jesus Strand simply because of what has happening here this week. Some folks get seriously jealous, when they can't be a part of something that they really want to be."

She frowned. "Who is really me or us or we here at Antebellum House?"

Sterling frowned. "The new question, who else is really not me or us or we here at Antebellum House?"

She smiled. "That's too easy. The answer is all the other teens that come here and live north of the Mason-Dixie line."

Ezzard frowned, "Naw! Your dead friend Lillard, the computer finished processing her strand of DNA. She is a child of Jesus. Herman was not a child of Jesus. He was attending, since his ancient relative had lived and died within the Civil War of 1863."

She looked down to see both her hands with a sad face. "O. That's so sad. She really belonged here like me and with us."

Sterling frowned. "And that changes everything about the working theory of the eighteenth gene which only belongs to each student that were targeted and then murdered. But, what is the motive for the teen killings? I would guess some type of a decoy to toss us off their tail."

Ezzard stood upright from the chair with a stern face. "I agree with Sterling. We gotta get rid of dead Effie. We'll dump her dead body down inside one of the cow pastures behind the thick forest. No one goes back there, but the grazing cows. The winter snow will..."

"Ah!" She stood upright from the chair and covered the mouth with a gasp. "You're going to toss her dead body into the corn field without a decent burial. What about her biological parents? Her grandparents? Her sisters? The maggots will eat up the body..."

"Damn!" Sterling stood upright from the chair and shook both the skull and the hands. "Zee, you can't do that. You are scared of the US Federal Government now. Then, the US Federal Government will come here and breathe down your neck with a found dead student. I suggest that we tote and drop her down onto her bedspread. She will be found dead tomorrow during the breakfast roll call. We all know that she tried to kill the selected race without a true purpose, maybe just jealousy. The end!"

Ezzard nodded with a stern face, "Yeah! That's a good plan plus freeing us from the vile crime."

Sterling pointed down with a stern face at dead Effie. "Okay! Cover and wrap her good with a set of dark colored thick plastic bags that come from all the garbage cans, so she doesn't blood over the wooden planks. Next, Sondra, go and get inside one of the plastic bags too. Zee and I are going to carry our girly loves back up to their private bedrooms, so we take the belle staircase up into the private bedrooms, in case one of the house staff members sees us walking around with the dead."

05:04 pm

Antebellum House location

Dogtrot Hallway setting

Warm temperatures with light breeze

The three live teens and a dead teen moved out from the small cottage and strolled down the Dogtrot Hallway in silence. Ezzard led and carried the dead body of Effie over a collar bone with a set of soft grunts in silence. Her face showed between the folds of blanket like she had fallen into a deep sleep. Her body was wrapped set of dark green plastic bags while trapping and holding all of her dripping and leaking blood proteins.

Sterling followed behind with a set of loud grunts and toted the plastic wrapped body of Sondra over a collar bone also. The face of Sondra peaked through the plastic wrapped with a pair of closed eyelashes like she was asleep. She opened the eyelashes with a soft giggle feeling the bouncy movement from strong Sterling. He grunted with a sour frown, "Geez! You're fucking heavy, Sondra. You need to lose some weight. Or I won't marry you when you turn eighteen years old, darling," he moved ahead with a set of heavy grunt following behind the ass of Ezzard.

Ezzard moved ahead and then slowly turned the side, entering inside the belle parlor room, strolling towards the staircase and ran up the steps. The overhead lights winked off and came back on without frightening the two males, since they were not really scared of a set of three silly she-ghosts, only the true human murderer here at Antebellum House.

Belle staircase setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Sterling continued to carry and grunt out loud with Sondra over a collar bone up the staircase and followed behind the ass of Ezzard while slowly moving by a life-sized portrait of Mary Margaret Sommverville in the year 1867. The set of overhead lights blinked off. Sterling stopped with a loud grunt and stood in the darkness, hearing the crackle of the old paper on the portrait next to his eardrum, when a cool breeze blew behind his ass. Then, he felt the cold barrel of a hand pistol behind the nape of his neck, saying with a soft grunt in the darkness. "Zee, one of the she-ghosts owns a gun." The overhead lamps swiftly flicked back on.

"What?" Ezzard spun around with dead Effie on a collar bone and a gasp to see Sterling. "Fuck! I be damned and crucified. So, Ween does own a gun."

Ween appeared and stood inside the open archway of a secret room with a hand gun at the neck of Sterling, motioning with the other hand into the new secret room that had been built inside the side wall of the staircase. "Please come and join me inside my own parlor room right now, gentlemen!"

Ezzard exhaled with a sour frown without moving while continuing to hold the dead body of Effie on a collar bone. "We don't have time for your fucking ass games, Ween."

Ween twirled the cold barrel gun to face the nose bridge of Ezzard with a sneer. "Come inside right now, little dude!" He back stepped down to the lower step on top of high wooden platform which was inside the hidden room that had built into the side wall of the staircase.

Sterling back stepped from Ezzard and spun around to face the neatly separated portrait, seeing the darkness and then lightness inside a new room with a sneer.

Armistead stood down on top of the floor inside the hidden room with a laugh and a shout out. "Everyone is a little dude compared to T-rex Ween." The new room displayed a high ceiling of natural wooden planks and a set of four narrow walls of dirty concrete which had been designed in a rectangular shape.

Ween continued to stand in place on top of the wide platform and motioned with a hand. Ezzard moved ahead with a soft sneer and lead down the steep wooden staircase. Sterling followed with a soft snarl at Ween right behind Ezzard. Ween smiled. "I can't help it that I'm a giant at the age of seventeen-year-old. You both are a little runt at the eighteen years old. Do you like my secret little work room? It has a set of small and medium-sized blowing equipment fans which creates a cross wind of bouts of cool breeze that fit right between the tiny of cracks of the old picture frames," he reached out and touched the original with a smile. "This is the real wall, where real alive southern belle Mary Margaret got killed with the real sword. The administration of the day plastered over the solid wall of red stained blood while leaving the wall up for good luck. Or is this bad luck now?" He reached out and carefully closed up the old portrait pulling it again the original wall, spinning around and followed behind the ass of Sterling of the homemade staircase of wood.

Secret room setting

Cool air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Ezzard landed on top of a rough concrete floor still holding the dead body of Effie. Sterling stomped down and stopped, parking beside Ezzard with a low growl at Armistead. Ezzard frowned with annoyance and squatted down onto the concrete floor. "Ween, I'm laying Effie on the floor. Then, I'm going to beat your ass."

Armistead waved the cold shotgun barrel into the nose bridge of Ezzard and then at Sterling with a sneer. "I do not believe so, buddy and buddy!"

Sterling squatted down and placed Sondra on top of the rough concrete floor. She pretended to be asleep inside the plastic wrapping, without moving or snorting or making noise. "What's going on here? Before, I get mad and whip both of your asses into tomorrow." He stood upright from the floor and hovered over Sondra with protection with a snarl at the other teens.

Ween stomped down the last stair and scooted around the teens, standing in front of Ezzard and Sterling, waving the cold barrel of the pistol into each face with a laugh. "Antebellum is a Latin word that means 'pre-war.'"

"There is no war going down here at Antebellum House or the State of Alabama or in America, dude." Sterling sneered at both Ween and Armistead.

Ween slapped the chest with a smile. "My war, I am commanding a war."

Sterling turned and frowned at the nose profile of Ezzard, "Geez! Ween is mentally gone with the wind, Zee."

"He is mine to do with as I please, Sterling," snarled Ezzard.

Sterling crossed both arms with a nod and a laugh. "Go for it all, dude!"

Ween looked down with a smile at the wrapped plastic around Effie. "Effie, you can get up now. I got them cornered now. You did a good job of finding them. Get up now, honey!" Both Sterling and Ezzard tensed from fear with the deep dark secret knowledge. Effie was truly dead. Ween continued to wave the pistol at nose bridge of Ezzard and then back stepped, squatting down, tossing the blanket away from her face with a gasp. "She's dead. I've seen a dead body, before..."

"...by your hand," Ezzard snarled.

Ween stood upright from the floor and aimed the pistol barrel at the chest of Ezzard. "You killed her."

Sterling sneered. "All is fair in war and murder, Ween. You..."

"Shut up, Sterling!" Ween looked down with a worried brow at Effie.

Armistead waved the shotgun at the nose bridge of Sterling with a grin. "Effie's asleep. That's all. Sterling drugged her or something. His daddy is a rich drug lord."

Sterling chuckled. "My dad is a pharmacist, bozo."

Ween looked up with a sneer to see Ezzard. "Her death is no matter to me! I'm doing what I doing. All of us is going to take a stroll and spin around, moving ahead towards the open cave wall. There is an underground cave passage tha was used by the sissy males which takes your boots down an underground hand carved tunnel which is hidden by a set of flowering plant bushes and then exits outside the base of Loveless Mountain. Get going!"

Ezzard tossed both arms into the air with a nod to Ween. "I'm moving ahead towards your secret underground cave right now. Let Sterling and Sondra go from here!"

Ween moved ahead and stopped, squatting down next to Sondra, whipping off the blanket with a sneer. "She's alive. I should kill her now."

Sterling stepped a boot toe with a sneer towards Ween. "No!"

Ween looked up with a smirk to see Sterling. "Good. I got a puppy love reaction from her beau. She is alive and asleep. So, Sterling, you carry her while keeping you alive and awake, buddy."

Sterling waved both hands into the air with a worried brow. "No! She's asleep. Leave her behind here inside the hidden room. When she awakens..."

Ween stood upright from the floor and reached out, kicking her leg with a boot toe with a laugh. Sondra ripped off the plastic wrapping with a growl and sat upright, staring up into the face of Ween. "Ya little shit, you're lucky that you got a gun or..."

Ween aimed cold barrel at the nose bridge of Sondra with a smile. "Now, she's awake. She comes with us. Get up, Sondra!"

Sterling moved ahead and stopped, leaning down to assist Sondra into a chest, spinning them around, following behind the back spine of Ezzard and entered into a dark and wet underground tunnel that left the house and moved into the forest. The underground tunnel was composed of dirt and broken wooden planks, where the rain water had leaked through the dirt and the wood making puddles of mud over the dirt floor.

"Ween, what's the probe up your ass? Since, I plan to remove it, when I'm safe and you're dead," Ezzard slowly moved ahead through the dark tunnel with a sneer. Sondra and Sterling cuddled together and followed behind the back spine of Ezzard.

Armistead followed behind last in the line in silence. Ween moved behind Sterling with a stern face and watched Ezzard. "What happened to Effie? Why is she dead?"

"She tried to stab me with a great big knife that found her little tiny heart instead for being a fucking killing bitch. The same ending is coming to you too, Ween. So, get scared and start praying," Ezzard moved ahead with a sneer through the wet dirt, the dead flowers, and the numerous water puddles, seeing a bright light at the end of the cave.

"Huh! Effie had lots of guts, just no brains. I told her to spy on you, not try and take you out," Ween exhaled.

"What is this all about besides acting a stupid redneck dumbshit, Ween?" Sterling continued to cuddle Sondra and moved behind Ezzard. Sondra continued to move and listen.

Ween aimed the gun barrel at the back spine of Sterling with a laugh. "Well, it goes something like this. When I last visited here in the Leed forests, I ran across an Indian. He made me exchange all of my turtle eggs for a dead swollen turtle. I vomited that night right there in the wilderness, instead of enjoying a delicious meal next to that pretty girl named Tancy. So, I'm taking my meanness out on you, Ezzard."

"Why do I deserve your meanness, Ween?" Ezzard frowned.

"Your great-great-great grandfather bossed my great-great grandfather around in the US Civil War," Ween frowned.

Ezzard spun around with a sneer to see the faces of Sterling and Sondra, not Ween. "This is about a family feud from the year 1860. During that time, both of our families were fighting over a plot of land within the US State of Tennessee. Of course, my great-great-great grandfather gave in and offered the land for free to the Zillicoffer Family."

Ween sneered. "Walk faster! We're close to the bushes." Ezzard spun around and stopped, standing in front of the bushes. Sterling released Sondra and moved ahead assisting Zee with the removal of the real plants and the real passageway.

Ween stopped with a smile. "Now, everyone, climb up the set of homemade stairs. I can assure you that no other body or person is up there on top of the dome. Everyone else is at the fun hay ride, where you should have stayed."

Loveless Mountain location

Flat pink tinted dome setting

Hot temperatures with dull sunshine

Ezzard led up the dirt steps, over the wet grass, and then trucked up a sloped side of the mountain, stopping a few feet from the edge and spun around to see the edge of the dome. Sterling and Sondra continued to cuddle and moved ahead, stopping and spun around standing a few feet away from Ezzard. Sterling needed some elbow room away from Ezzard, before he dashed ahead, attacked and then killed Ween for pissing him off and upsetting his girl Sondra. Sondra leaned over and sobbed with worried tears into the shirt of Sterling.

Ween moved up the ramp and stopped a few feet from the edge with a smile holding the gun at each nose bridge at Ezzard. Armistead followed behind Ween and stopped, standing beside Ween holding the shotgun barrel down towards the pink rock with a smile. "I wanna harm him, first."

Ween aimed the gun barrel at Ezzard. "Our command center in the war room is not much but it is quiet and sometimes it is lighted up from the moonshine," he thumbed back over a collar bone at the sinking horizon. "Did you know when a blue star explodes in the skyline, it is a dead Yankee?" he laughed with Armistead.

Ezzard frowned with puzzlement. "Now, I understand. You are the one that killed the two innocent teens, Ween. Tell me why are such a fucking dumb ass? Because I and all of my fellow rednecks take an innocent murder, very personally to heart going against a murdering foe like you, asshole. So, I guess that I get to kill you deader than a piece of poor road kill," he chuckled with Sterling.

Sterling nodded with a smile. "Armistead, did you killed Lillard or Herman? Which one of the teen did you murder, man?"

Armistead frowned at Sterling and then Ween. "I didn't kill no teen body."

Ezzard smiled with a nod. "Ween killed Lillard or Herman in cold blood. So, which one did you kill, Armistead?"

Armistead frowned at Ezzard and then Ween. "I didn't kill any teen at Antebellum House. I joined up for the fun to whip an ass of a Cutshaw, not to kill anyone, Ween," he nodded with a sour frown.

"My bad," Ween turned and fired the hand gun into the face of Armistead as the campus fireworks exploded up and into the semi-dark sky. Armistead fell backwards and landed on top of the pink tinted dome busting a skull against the hard rock. Ween looked up with a smile into the skyline of fireworks. "Fireworks, it makes the sound of loudness," he turned and winked at Ezzard. "And a splatter of blood protein on the hard rock just washes away. A discharge bullet lounges in the rock for all eternity. Isn't that right, buddy?"

Sterling frowned. "That is your sorry ass fairy tale, dude?"

Ween nodded with a smile. "My demon tale, it is a true horror of my life as the dead continue to be counted until the end of time."

Sterling exhaled. "Why are you hurting folks, Ween?"

Ween turned with a stern face and paced on top of the rock aiming the barrel at the nose profile of Ezzard. "I have been rejected by my daddy and my mama. I have been left out in the cold as they say. He cut me out from his Last Will and Testimony, the family inheritance, and the family assets and then tattles it to every person, who likes to hear a sad tale within my hometown. My girlfriend drops me like that. My mama doesn't love me like that. My brother is Lomax doesn't care about me like that. I am a no body. I'll be eighteen years old next month and out on my own."

Ezzard frowned. "I will help you out, buddy."

Ween stopped and swung to face Ezzard. "Why would you do that, Master Ezzard?"

Ezzard smiled. "Because I'm a rich millionaire, I can set you up in a house with a nice job. You can work for my daddy and me."

Ween parted the lips. "I have confessed to the teen murders at Antebellum House and you still want to help me."

Ezzard smiled with a nod. "Yes, I wanna help you get back up on your two feet. The world runs on money. So, without money, you can't get a job or a house or a..."

Ween looked up at the glowing fireworks and back with a smile to see Ezzard. "I can't believe this. It is so true. You are one of the nicest gentle man that I have ever encountered, who possesses the Jesus Strand." Ezzard tensed with nervousness. Ween nodded with a smirk. "Yes, you might can forgive and forget me and then let it go. Naw! I cannot let go of the power struggle, the struggle for power, of power, with power, not for me, not a child of Jesus. I do not like that term. I like Zee's sentence structure best. He is a child of Jesus. The sentence is so eloquent and simple pro-fucking-found," he laughed. Ezzard stomped a boot on the rock with a hiss. Ween aimed the gun at Ezzard and shook the bald skull. "Naw! I'll not kill you right off. I'll kill you, southern style, making you cry out loud for your mama, Zee. I am not a child of Jesus," he sobbed with tears of sadness and disappointment. "My loving and caring daddy and mama told me right before school started. When I turn eighteen years old, I would be taken away from the warm sweet bosom of Antebellum House and tossed outside like a piece of day old corn pone which is stale and unused. How can my biological parents do that to their child?"

Ezzard waved both hands into the air with a nod. "You're adopted, Ween. That is the only explanation, Ween. Parents didn't do that to a biological child. You can come and live with me. I'm a brother too right here at Antebellum House. I'll take care of you like a brother. I got plenty of money and time, too, bro. Think about it! You can finish high school someplace else, since your adoptive parents don't give a shit about your ass."

Ween wiped a running nose of snot with a whine. "I give a shit too. I play matchmaker now. I'm only going to murder one of you, males. Then, the reminding two of you will get married and then suffer for the rest of your healthy living days on the planet with a great future, a good job, a big fat bank account of money, and a nice family unlike me without a future, a job, a money market and a family."

Sterling smiled. "You got a personal family feud with the Cutshaws. You don't get a family feud with the Pierces. That's me. Let me help you, Ween."

Ween shook a skull with a sour frown, "Naw! You'll tattle to your daddy. Then, I'll become dead. This way, I can live and enjoy my life as a pauper or a peasant or a pawn while surviving on my revenge for the rest of my sorry ass life. Thus, I am not a child of Jesus," he looked up with a sad face to see the sky and shouted out loud with the series of popping fireworks. "I am not a child of Jesus. I am not a child of Jesus..."

Sterling continued to stand in place and wiggled a set of nervous fingers near the leg stepping forward for the finale killing maneuver, hiding the weapon inside the boot.

Ween looked down from the skyline to see Sterling with a sneer and aimed the gun directly at Sondra. "The question to Sterling, can you reach me, before I blow her brains out over the rock? Blood washes away from the rock. Bullets lounge into the rock forever. I do not miss my target, sir. I have been firing guns, since I was six years old..."

The flying knife sailed through the air waves and swiftly embedded into the heart of Ween. She tumbled forward coming from the violent throw and landed down into the open arms of Sterling, staring with a growl at Ween. "A southern belle always keeps her knife handy, sir."

Ween reached down with a chuckle and touched the handle of the protruding knife, pulling it out of his heart, dropping down the hand pistol. Ezzard rushed ahead and snatched up the grounded pistol. Ween back stepped and looked down at a bloody hand with a laugh and then a sob of tears, tumbling backwards and dropped off the edge of the rock ledge as his skull splits and torn into pieces.

Sterling cuddled Sondra. She sobbed with tears inside his cuddle. "I...I have never killed a human."

"It's okay. You did good, darling!" Sterling moved ahead and climbed down the ramp, strolling through the underground tunnel.

06:06 pm

Belle staircase location

Secret room setting

Cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Ezzard led own the ramp and stopped, tearing each plant bush to shred, entering back into the secret room and stopped a few feet into the room. He turned and scanned the dank space with a laugh. "All this time, there was a set of mechanic fans that blew a cool breeze through all the tiny vertical cracks between each metal picture frames at each person who stomped up and down the belle staircase. I can see the tiny bits of light between the edges of the school mistress portraits. I guess that one the teachers came up with the slick idea, after they had built that fake wall, protecting the real bloody one. I guess that one of the teachers selected a couple of dumb shits like Armistead and Weed to do the dirty deed," Ezzard views Sondra and then Sterling. "I bet it old man Floyd. He's an old bastard to all the other beaus and belles."

Sterling laughed with a nod. "Well, I'll tell you what, Zee. I'll get professor Skippy to beat the shit out of Floyd for his vicious evil deed. How's that one?"

Ezzard spun around with smile and climbed up the homemade staircase. "Do you know professor Skippy?"

Sterling cuddled with Sondra with a smile. "I like Skippy. He's cool. He likes beating up any and all assholes. I promise you that. Once I mention the she-ghosts and the shitty fans, he'd love to find the artist behind all of these paintings and then personally take care of it," he laughed with the others.

Ezzard landed on the top of the high platform with a smile and reached out, twisting the door knob. The door opened when an unknown hand reached out and grabbed the arm of Ezzard, jerking the teen through the archway and into a wall of muscle. Ezzard fought back with a sneer from the painful grip of the unknown male, "Hey there, asshole!"

A second hand reached out and grabbed Sterling by the arm, jerking him away from Sondra and through the archway into a chest of muscle. Sterling struggled within the powers arms of the unknown male with a snarl "Get off of me, buddy, before I beat you ass black and blue!"

A third pair of hands reached out and took Sondra by the arm, pulling her through the archway as she screamed and fought with both my arms and legs. "Let go of me now!"

The female lead of the three unknown males spun around with a stern face and climbed down the staircase with the vocal order. "Take all them into the ballroom. Brone wants to meet them immediately."

Sterling tensed in both arms and legs and then kicked and punched as two unknown males reached out and grabbed the collar bone, dropping the skull of Cody at the waistline to prevent the fighting while dragging Cody down the staircase. Sondra continued to scream and fight. Ezzard continued to curse and kick punches at the unknown male. Sterling shuffled ahead with a face tucked down with a sneer almost kissing both the kneecaps while being restrained by the two stronger adult males. "Ya sorry piece of shit, wait until I'm free, then I'm beating your ass." Ezzard and Sondra moved ahead of Cody and entered into the ballroom setting.

Hot temperatures with starry sky

Ballroom room location

Door archway setting

The lead female led Ezzard, Sondra, and Cody into the ballroom and stopped, standing in front of an unknown male. "We have found three more kids, who were hiding inside an old smelly room. You take good care of them now, while we continue to search all the other stairwells and the rest of the sleeping chambers for more children."

Cody kicked out a boot toe and missed the leg of the unknown male. The gun sounded with a set of loud whamps when a stream of soaring bullets flew through in the air, exploding the rear skull of each male and a left eyeball of the unknown woman with bouts of flying blood protein and bone fragments in the air.

"Cody!" Fucner ran inside the ballroom and reached out, jerking Cody into a wet chest, back stepping from the archway with a sneer while using a body to shield the kid from an array of flying bullets coming from each gun of each invader inside the ballroom archway. All the bullet of fire power came from rows of strange men and women, who each wore a gray business suit. Fucner swung around to face the front porch and ran ahead, yelling into the eardrum of Cody with a heavy pant of breath. "Cody, go and get help! I'll cover your..."

"No!" Cody ran slightly in front of Fucner with a gasp with fear towards the front porch and the cold air of the night while feeling the wet clothing and super human strength of his co-worker.

Fucner jerked to the side from the gun man and slammed Cody into side wall as an array of bullets flew ahead and exploded with a series of whamps flying by an ear of Fucner, burning some of the hair strands. He coughed and then whispered into the eardrum of Cody. "Cody, go and get help!" A bullet traveled by the eardrum of Fucner again from the same gun man as he ducked low down and covered the body Cody, protecting the kid. He swiftly stood upright from the side wall and quickly dragged Cody by the arm along a peppered side wall of bullet hole, tripping over a dead body of a student and a pair of dead biological parents. A third bullet hit the paint job of door frame, when Fucner jerked to the side and rammed a shoulder into Cody with a set of pants and hard breathes with a whisper into the eardrum of Cody. "Run towards the highway. There's money in the left heel of your cowboy boot and a cell phone sewn into the right side lining of your jacket. You gotta gallop about two miles and get away from here Antebellum House for an electronic ping to reach the nearest satellite tower, before you get a mobile phone signal..."

"You...you come with me," Cody surveyed the front porch and saw numerous dead bodies of student and adults with a gasp of fear and worry while feeling both sad and brave. He completely understood the vocal order from Fucner, but he wanted to stay and fight.

Fucner slowed the pace with a set of heavy breathes, bleeding from the lips with a whisper into the cheekbone of Cody. "Forget about me! This is bigger than you and me, Cody. These are terrorists, maybe triple or more terrorist cells which are hidden somewhere here at Antebellum House and someplace else inside our great state of Alabama, compliments of one fucking dead Governor Ashmore," he coughed and then inhaled a shallow breath. "I wished the son of a bitch was alive, because I would drive the limo with the very last ounce of my strength into his fucking resident and then assassin his ass."

Cody turned with a gasp and scanned the body of Fucner. The shirt and jacket were covered in red stained blood coming from multiple bullet and knife wounds on Fucner. Cody whined with worry. "Come with me, Fucner!"

Fucner stopped and bend down at the waistline, slowly standing upright with a sneer, "Naw! I took a bullet for Is. Islander is dead, Cody. They killed him during our first contact about fifteen minutes ago. Where were you hiding out, kid? We couldn't find your ass. Gawd! We thought that you were dead with the rest of these teens and all the other adult bodies including the teachers, staff members, and parents of each teen which lie and line all four bloody walls inside the ballroom like a stack of fucking wintertime fire logs. They executed all the kids and their parents using a set of semi-automatic guns. There's a fucking swarm of them here at the school..."

Cody gasped. "I got some school time punishment. I was camping out in the woodlands, since yesterday afternoon, fucking Sondra."

Fucner coughed with a smirk. "She's a pretty one. I'm glad that you had a fun time here before your patriotic American duty."

"I need to save Sondra." Cody gritted the teeth.

Fucner moved sideways and blocked Cody with a smirk, "Yeah! I'll do that for you, Cody. I'm going back to help Skippy, if that son of bitch has survived. Go, Cody! Run as fast as you can and call lots of the good guys. The fucking terrorists must die right now inside Antebellum House, tonight. The USA is counting on you, son."

He exhaled with worry of his duty, his new school friends, his devoted co-workers. "Yes sir." Cody moved ahead and ran into the thick darkness of the forest for hiding while hearing an array of whamping bullets behind his ass. His heart dropped down into the boot toes, but he didn't look back for anything while panting with heavy breathes of fear and worry. He had to run away and tell all the local, state and national law authorities and then stop all of the terrorists, who had arrived on American soil there at Antebellum House and here in the Alabama.

Inside the Dogtrot Hallway at Antebellum House, "No! Come back here!" Brone dashed out the ballroom setting after the teenager and ran down the corridor while waving an arm in the air with a yell. "Bring that kid back to me now! Don't let him escape from the school and into the woodlands. Get that kid back here right now!" He stopped with a gasp and stared with an angry face down at the wooden planks, where Fucner rested in pain.

Fucner had bent down at the waistline and tumbled down in pain and blood, landing on the back spine while staring up with a sneer into the face of Brone. "Yeah, we win!"

Brone reached down and aimed the smoking gun into the face of Fucner. "No, we win," he pressed the trigger as an array of bullets fired into the smirk of Fucner. Brone exhaled with a huff of annoyance and looked up to see the dark forest with a whisper. "The goose still lives."
Tuesday August 31st

City of Greenville within the US State of Alabama

(104 miles northwest from Leed)

Hot temperatures with sunshine

01:04 pm

Home of Cody's grandmother

Pond setting

He ignored the beauty, the tall grove of pine trees that surrounded a placid green tinted pond, a blue sky of colorful playful flying birds. The love songs of the crickets and the frogs entertained all their wildlife neighbors including the lazy coyotes and foxes, who were hiding within the cool leaves of the surrounding forest until night fall. Cody sat down on the dry grass with a pair of naked feet cooling inside the pond water, holding a limp fishing pole between the legs while counting the dead bodies within his neurons.

He started at the dead bodies with his mother, his father, and his co-workers of Rob, Mink, and Hawk from the US Marshals office in Birmingham plus their immediate family members. Then, he had remembered the entire clan of the Ashmore family, including Governor Whalen, his wife, their children and spouses plus Amber. All of them had violently died inside an exploded cottage on a farm in the town of Warrior about four months ago.

Two days ago, Cody had been introduced to a new set of co-workers consisting of Fucner, Skippy, Islander, and Yorkie plus a new set of school mates inside a ballroom at Antebellum House in Leed, who were all dead and gone too. Terrorist Brone had shot and execution a bullet through the skull of each student, each parent, and each staff member at the school including his coworkers Fucner, Skippy, Islander, and Yorkie. Cody had escaped through the dark thicket of forestland, seeking help from the local authorities.

Cody whispered with sad feelings. "Who am I?"

He had been the son of Mr. and Mrs. Willie Dean Mack of Greenville. Once upon a time, he had lived a happily life on a corn farm, attending the local high school, playing in each football game, driving a sports car around the town with his high school friends, and kissing on his girlfriend. One early evening, it had all ended, when he had come from barn and into his house, finding his mother dead of a throat strangulation by his father. Then, Cody had beaten up his father with both fists, until the police arrived and stopped the killing fury. Then, Cody had been carted off in the middle of the night to a work farm in the rural town of Etta.

Cody had graduated both high school and college with a degree and then worked for the US Marshals office in Birmingham as a rookie deputy, until his co-workers met Brone. Then, Cody had been transferred into a secret team in metro city Huntsville, serving as a protection guard for the local Starlit Beauty Pageant, until his new set of co-worker met Brone again. The secret team didn't possess a name or a unit number, just a set of good devoted men and one woman, who was protecting the United States of America at any cost. The cost had been very high with their personal sweat, tears, and blood about two days ago.

Cody whispered with puzzled feeling. "What am I?"

He had been an undercover student teen inside Antebellum House hunting for the child of Brone, when he had met Ezzard, another teen student. Teen Ezzard had showed Cody a DNA karyotype of real dried blood protein. The blood had come from Cody, matching the eighteenth gene in the DNA strand in Brother Jesus.

Cody whispered with confusion. "Where am I?" The mobile telephone sounded out loud with a country musical song. He turned and stared with a blank expression at ringing the mobile telephone, reaching out and picked up the borrowed mobile telephone that came from his grandmother. He stared at the colorful picture of her wrinkled face and then answered it with a stern face, "Hi, Grandma."

He paused and listened to the one-side conversation on the other end of the mobile telephone.

"Yes ma'am! I'll come right back to the house. Thanks for preparing me some lunch. I'm leaving in the truck right now," he said with southern gentleman manners. Cody stood upright from the dirt. The fishing pole dropped down and landed in the wet mud. H exhaled with a huff of raw feelings consisting of sadness, nervousness, worry, angry, and other mixed emotions and spun around moving ahead towards the old pickup truck with the door open. He slid inside the seat and cranked the engine, slowly driving down the dirt road between the occupied cow pastures while putt-putting the old vehicle back to his grandma's house.

Home of Cody's Grandma

Front porch setting

01:30 pm

Cody rolled the old truck and parked away from the weather beaten front door and the pretty flower beds, slamming it into park still sitting inside the driver's seat. He exhaled and then inhaled feeling more emotions of sadness and worry, reaching over and grabbed the door handle. The door opened. He slid out and stood upright gently closing it shut with a stern face.

He back stepped from the front door and spun around to face the manicured lawn, scooting around the rear bumper of the truck and turned to face the closed door. He marched up the steps and reached out, grabbing the door knob. The door opened. He entered through the open archway and spun around gently closing it shut, without locking the latch.

His grandma lived in the rural country and was safe from all strangers, since a nest of sleeping copperhead snakes liked to sniff each new boot toe before striking with a set of sharp fanged teeth, if you did not know, where the snakes slept during the day which was directly underneath the thicket of low shrubs beside the front door.

He swung around with a deep sigh of depression and slowly moved ahead beside an empty living room and dining room which was located on each side of a narrow and dim lighted hallway, heading towards the kitchen space, sliding down into the chair at the breakfast table.

Kitchen table setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

The grandma of Cody was an elderly lady and sixty something years old with a humped back, a tone of pale tinted skin, a head of cropped gray colored hair, and a pair of tired old brown colored eyeballs. She spun around from the kitchen counter and moved ahead stopping beside the nose profile of Cody, resting a plate of cold food on top of a pretty blue cloth placement with a stern face. "Did you catch any fresh catfish for supper tonight, boy?"

"No ma'am," he leaned down and bad breathed over the plate of food, lifting up the sandwich, chewing with a set of robotic emotions, stuffing a handful of potato chips into an open vessel next. He was feeling emotional upset with all the deaths of his newest friends of Islander, Skippy, Yorkie, and Fucner, but his stomach did not seem to care.

She sat diagonally from Cody tapping on a sweaty glass of water with ton of cold ice cubes on the hot and humid August day in Alabama with a frown with worry. "What ya be going to do for the rest of the day, boy?"

"Don't know," he chewed and swallowed the food almost whole, biting again and chewed, staring down at the plate of food.

"I could use some help with the gardening. I got lots of pretty vegetables this year."

"Yes ma'am," he chewed and swallowed the food, biting again, staring down at the plate of food.

"It be a long time, boy. After your mama's funeral, the US Federal Government upped and sold your daddy's house and farm and tractor equipment, ya know. Your daddy got wild and crazy inside that US Federal prison cell and then killed some of the criminal inmates. They ended up putting three bullets into his chest. He be dead now. I be all alone but with you, boy."

"Yes ma'am."

She frowned with confusion at his nose profile. "I talked to the sheriff, after they hauled your ass from that house, after beating your daddy in the face that night. I went up there to that there work farm in Etta. Etta ain't that far from here either. The snobby farmer don't let me talk to you, boy. I went to know, if ya were fine or hurting. I was hurting, boy."

"Yes ma'am," he reached out and grabbed, sipping and swallowing the cold beverage.

She frowned with puzzlement at his nose profile. "The farmer saids you were dangerous and penned up like a wild hog. That be right, boy?"

"Yes ma'am," he bit and chewed the food, staring down at the plate of food.

She frowned with confusion. "So I wait and hope that you called me, ya know. Ya didn't. Then, I heard from that judge, that you were in college. That be right, boy?"

"Yes ma'am," he swallowed the food and bit into the potato chips, chewing.

She nodded with a grin. "That be nice. You be a college boy now. Then, I heard ya got a job. Where'da ya work, boy?"

Cody slowly chewed the food while feeling suspicious. He didn't want to lie to his grandma, but he didn't want to share any secret information. Someone was trying to kill him. The "someone" was a man who was named Brone. He didn't want his grandma to learn of that nasty threat or get into trouble or become harmed either. He swallowed the food and stared down at the plate of eaten food. "I got a nice government job. Then, I got canned like the rest of the unemployed Americans," he chewed the potato chips.

She nodded with a frown at his nose profile, "Figures! Go to college and become something, then ya can't. Well, you live here as long as ya want too, boy."

Cody swallowed the food and looked up to see her with a confused brow. "Grandma, why didn't you take me into your house the night of...?"

She looked down at the floor and back up with a stern face to Cody. "That sheriff, he explained to me that you...you be a brute and brutal with both your bloody fists, bleeding at your daddy's face. He told me that you couldn't come..."

Cody gasped in shock. "The judge told me that you didn't want me to live here with you. I didn't have any more family members, Grandma. Why did you tell the judge that?"

She clears a throat with a worried brow. "I was scared of your daddy. He was a mean one, stomping all the baby frogs to death as a toddler and then stomping every adult ass as a mean teen. He was just plain mean and rotten. You be his kin, too, boy. Ya be like him when you beat up your daddy into almost dying, too, boy."

Cody held a breath and exhaled with a huff of frustration and sadness. "Look! I didn't kill him. I wanted to kill him. He killed my mama. I loved my mama. I wanted him dead with my mama..."

"Ya be a mean one, too, boy. Are you going to work for the US Federal Government agency again, boy? Are they going to call you here at the house, today? You can use my cell phone just give them the phone number here to my house. The number is located on the back of the mobile phone, since I can't remember it," she giggled with a nod

"Thanks, Grandma!" Cody frowned. "I'm sorry for being such a bad boy. I promise to be a better child. I appreciate you allowing me to sleep here and feed me. I'm without a job now, but I'll get to work on finding a new job tomorrow. I'm help around the house and the yard and the garden here all day and night, Grandma."

She reached out and patted his arm with a smile. "You stay here as long as you want, child. I like the company. And you keep my cell phone and call the US Federal Government for a new job. I pay all these US Federal income taxes, so they should employ my kinfolk too." Inside the living room, the front door echoed out loud with a couple of loud knocks on the weather beaten wood. She stood upright from the chair with a smile and spun around with a hum, moving ahead down the hallway. "That's the mail man. He gives me my mail every afternoon around this time with more invoices coming for the water company, the electricity company, and the telephone company to pay with my money. My money, which I ain't got right now."

Inside the living room, she stopped and reached out, grabbing the door knob. The front door creaked open. She yelled out loud at the front door. "Cody, you got company here at the front door. Come out here and see your company, boy!"

Inside the kitchen at the table, Cody chewed and swallowed the food wiping a mouth with an arm. He stood upright from the chair and scooted the chair underneath the table edge like a good southern gentleman. He reached down and lifted up the dirty plate and the glass tumbler, spinning around and moved ahead, stopping at the wash sine. He gently placed all the dirty dishes inside a clean wash sink like a good southern gentleman also. He swung around to face the archway with a puzzled brow and clicked the safety of the personal hand gun that was hidden inside the blue jean pocket like a good redneck, who was curiosity about a visitor who was standing on the front porch of his grandma's house.

Living room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

The male was slender and tall with a head of cropped red colored hair, a tone of pink tinted skin, a pair of light green eyes, and thirty-something. He stood inside the archway and blocked the door with a smile and a nod to Cody, wearing a dark colored windbreaker, a plain white shirt, a pair of shredded blue jeans, and a pair of polished cowboy boots.

Grandma smiled with a nod and pointed at the unknown male. "Cody, he comes from the US Federal Government, too. He is here to offer you a new job. Ask him about the job? Tell us about the new job for Cody, please!"

The unknown male continued to hold the door and stand inside the archway extending a hand and a smile to Cody. Cody reached out and shook the hand with a nod in silence. The male grinned. "Cody, could you please come with me right now?" Cody frowned with puzzlement and then nodded in silence thinking it had to do with Brone. The male reached out and grabbed, shoving the arm of Cody through the archway with a new order. "Don't bother with a set of clothes or pieces of luggage right now. This is a day trip. Okay?"

Cody moved ahead with a stern face and passed the male, swinging around with a smile, walking backwards from his grandma through the open archway. "Thanks for everything, Grandma! See you later, I guess, Grandma!" He spun around and moved ahead towards a parked shiny and car red colored pickup truck.

The male continued to smile at Cody's grandma. "Get into my truck, Cody. Okay! I need to talk to your grandma for a sec. Okay, son?"

"Yes sir!" Cody spun around and moved ahead towards a parked shiny and car red colored pickup truck.

She frowned at the ass of Cody with a shout out. "Cody, why are you leaving with this man from the US Federal Government? Do you know this man from the US Federal Government? I demand that you introduce me now, before you leave from here again. Do you hear me, Cody Mack? You take my mobile telephone for a proper two-way verbal communication back to me, young man. I want you to report to me in one hour, young man. Cody, do you hear my vocal instructions. Cody Mack, come back here and acknowledge my orders right now!"

The male continued to block the open archway when she moved ahead with a sneer to chase after Cody. The male blocked her exit with a soft grunt and ripped the windbreaker jacket, dumping the jacket onto the floor with a smile at her nose bridge. The front door closed with a soft thump. "May I please have a word with you, Cody's grandma!" The male reached out and shoved back the elderly female with both hands from escaping out the front door and after Cody. The male continues to shove her fragile body moving backwards down the narrow hallway.

She reached up and hit both of his biceps kicking a leg into his shin with a growl moving back into the kitchen space and hit the edge of the table surface with her ass.

The male leaned down into her face as he was taller with a sneer, "Bitch! I don't know who the fuck you are, old woman. But you ain't Cody's biological grandma," then he reached down and pulled out, stabbing a hunting knife directly into her heart with a snort into her nose bridge. She gasped in pain. He sneered. "However, the US Federal Government law authorities will freeze your ass and slice numerous DNA samples coming from your tits and your eyeballs while figuring out your true identity, cunt. We don't know, but we'll find out, bitch. Then, we'll be winning the war of terrorizing Americans. Give a hello to Satan for me!" He laughed out loud with a sneer. She gasped with shock and flung both arms outward towards his grin. He quickly back stepped with a smile from her manicured fingernails and reached down, jerking out the knife from her heart organ. The blood sprayed into the air, over her chest, and onto his white shirt. Then she fell backwards over the top of the table sliding down onto the floor in her own puddle of blood while gasping for her last breath of life.

The male spun around with a sneer and slowly strutted down an empty hallway towards the front door, stopping and leaned down, collecting the windbreaker. He placed the jacket over her messy blood stains on his shirt and reached out with a smile, wiping the bloody hunting knife on the set of pretty pink colored wool cloth curtains inside her living room with a sneer. He moved ahead and opened the door, exiting out the house.

Pickup truck cab setting of Hucks and Cody

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

The male moved ahead and stopped in front of the open door, sliding down into the driver's seat, staring the engine and cooling the heated cab from the hot August afternoon sunshine. He turned and smiled at the nose profile of Cody. "I'm sorry about that. It's hot in August," he drove away from the dead female and her house towards the county roadway with a sigh. "You don't know me from a pile of cow shit, Cody. And I know cow shit, since my daddy owns and operates a cow farm with lots of cow shit. I'm Hucks. I work for the US Federal Government, specifically the military. You don't have to talk or explain anything to me, son. I'm the hero for the day," chuckling. "I will do all the talking. You just do all the riding. If you need to shit or piss or hunger or thirst, just finger the exit sign, then I'll get off the roadway. We are traveling back to Huntsville, where my house is located. It is about ninety miles or a ninety-minute drive. Wear your set of passenger safety belts, son, okay?" He drove the truck onto the busy interstate roadway with a nod. Cody reached down and latched the set of safety belts in silence, staring ahead at the gray tinted roadway of moving traffic and the scene of colorful woodlands.

Hucks nodded with a stern face and watched the roadway. "I have been briefed about your predicament. I report to the President of the United States, Cody. He's my boss. And I've read all your secret mission paper files about your adventures, since the month of July two years ago. You're involved into some heavy shit. I didn't like shit, because it smells and offends my nostrils.

"I don't have answers for you either, but I have tons of fucking questions along with the president. Currently, there are four people on planet Earth that knows about your little predicament with the mystery man named Brone. It is me, you, my wife, and the president. There is probably one single high ranking White House cabinet member, two trustworthy congressmen, and two high ranking military officers that know tiny bits and bytes of the secret information and the secret mission. However, unless they all meet in a big conference room, they wouldn't be able to figure it out. The president has seen to this personally. And the president has seen to me to protect your ass, son.

"You are seventeen, a minor teen in my old eyeballs, Cody. I'm thirty-six years old. That means, I've seen twice as much more dirty shit than you. So, I'm here to protect you, son. I know that sounds sissy coming from a fellow redneck to another fellow redneck but this ain't no turkey shoot, Cody. This man named Brone is running a couple of terrorist cells here in Bama and maybe other US minor towns. All the mixed letters of the alphabet within the great USA Federal Government is looking for Brone and his followers or his cronies or his bastards.

"Good luck, I say, because, I'm pissed off all the way to the Pluto Ice belt that our US Federal Government missed this thing and got some of our good men and women killed. The dying of any good soldier or an innocent civilian pisses me off faster and meaner than a can of flat beer. This is one reason why I have been assigned to protect you, son. I'm a badass soldier and a good husband and a great daddy. I got a family, a wife, and an infant son. I'll die protecting my family, my fellow Alabamians, my fellow Americans, and my USA. If anyone dares to threat my two-month old son, then I'll slice them for gator bite and then dump the bloody parts into the Tennessee River for the catfish and the snakes. I know these are only words, but I wanted you to hear them, son," exhaling.

Cody stared with a nod in silence at the highway.

Hucks nodded with a grin. "I guess you can tell that I'm driving the speed limit. Actually, I'm driving a little below the speed limit, so we can chat. I really hate to tell you this, but I gotta. You need to know this information. Your buddy Islander ran across Brone while doing his computer search inside the administration office at Antebellum House. Brone was accessing the computer terminal also in an adjacent room and then got what he needed, and then left. Islander saw him passing by the door from your excellent physical description. Brone is short, really short at five feet and three inches short with a brown colored long ponytail and a brown tinted full beard. Then, Islander called Fucner. Your friend Fucner followed Brone up the staircase into the male dormitory and then Brone disappeared into the darkness. Don't blame Fucner! Brone's men were hired and strolling all over the property and place at Antebellum House, when Fucner ran into one while allowing Brone to escape into the darkness.

He exhaled. "Your team wanted Brone alive, Cody. Your team wanted to learn all of Brone's secret shitty information. I wanted you to know that Skippy was working under direct presidential orders. But looking back now, your team members should have killed Brone on sight. Hindsight sucks! Anyways, Brone was searching for something, too. Do you know what Brone was searching for, Cody?"

Cody shook a bald head and continued to stare with a stern face at roadway.

Hucks continued to drive and exhaled with a huff of frustration. "Back to our problem! A man named Brone. No one knows who this guy is or where he came from or what he looks like. You are the key eye witness here. I think it's obvious that Brone is after you, Cody. Don't worry! Today, I take you home to my house for a good supper and a good night sleep. You'll be protected by me and my shotgun," chuckling.

"Just to update your neurons, my wife is a military she-soldier too. So, there are about sixteen different automatically weapons which are scattered around our house in plain sight that don't include the ones which are hidden. So, don't worry about Brone coming for you. However, the US Federal Government is right back at square one. But, guess what, we are tossing out that lousy playbook and doing things impromptu-like, because I'm the boss now. You and your files are locked away inside the desk drawer, bottom one in the president's world famous Oval Office, since you seem to be the only survivor of Brone's brutal attacks of pure vicious cold blooded murders. So, that means, he wants you. Or he wants you for something else. Do you have a clue about the motives of Brone, son?"

Cody shook a bald head in silence and continued to stare with a stern face at roadway.

Hucks continued to drive and exhaled with a nod of frustration. "I know you don't feel like talking. That's okay. The reason I was selected is mostly because of my wife. She is a child psychologist, sometimes works with some of the troubled teens of military parents. You can talk to her too. She's a good listener, not bug you about shit either. And she's handy with a gun too. We have a two-month old little boy. I mention this, because she houses her favorite semi-automatic weapon right next to the rocking chair, in case of anything bad. She loves her kid. I love the shit out of little bugger too. He's good too and hardly cries for nothing but food. My wife breast feeds. Man! That's the most erotic thing, I've ever seen with my naked eyeballs and a hidden penis. Maybe, when you talk to Fern, she'll pop out her naked breast and then feed the baby all at the same time, then you can spill your beans," he chuckled as Cody turned and grinned at the nose profile of Hucks.

Hucks continued to drive with a smile. "See? You gotta trust a man who encourages you to see his wife breast feeding the baby. Cody turned with a nod in silence to see the roadway. Hucks exhaled. "Well, I really hate to tell you this, but I gotta too. I killed your grandma with my hunting knife." Cody reached out with a gasp and grabbed onto the console turning with a sneer to see Hucks. Hucks continued to drive with a sneer. "That bitch was not your grandma, Cody. I don't know who she was. When all this shit hit the fan, the US Federal Government investigated your biological family unit also. Your mama was strangled by two hands from a fool, who was completely intoxicated on whiskey. The fool male couldn't have pissed into the toilet that night. Then, the foolish male started a silly riot inside his own prison cell while drunk on whiskey and then got killed by a stray bullet. All of that was too much of a convenient of deaths, Cody. The US Federal Government found that your DNA didn't match the dead female or the dead male, who claimed to be your loving parents. Then, they tested your grandma through a very seductive means they robbed her house, collecting her hair strands inside the bathroom sink. They tested your grandma's hair strands too. She ain't related to you, Cody. The US Federal Government doesn't know who she is..."

"I possess the Jesus Strand. I'm one of them," Cody turned with a stern face to see the nose profile of Hucks.

Hucks continued to drive with a laugh, "Yeah! I read that crap too inside Skippy's official Antebellum House observation report that went directly to the president. Your friends were very, very good. They spied and tattled on everyone and everything and then wrote it all down inside a personal laptop. One of the teens was mouthing off about possessing a specific gene that was related to Brother Jesus. He was showing off the information through an electronic means to one of the other kids, when Skippy overheard. Then, Skippy told Fucner, who stole the kid's laptop. Skippy copied all the electronic files as they analyzed it. Skippy and his team were in 'lights out' communication which translates into: on your own. That is one of the reasons all that shitty mess happened there at Antebellum House. Skippy couldn't call in reinforcements until..." exhaling.

"Whatever! I don't operate on 'lights out.' My orders and counter orders come directly from the president. He presses a button and we get the entire US military soldiers, sailors, and pilots, surrounding all the bad guys. We're the good guys. Remember?" He laughed with Cody. "As far as this Jesus Strand nonsense, the kid displayed a genetic karyotype of one of the gene chromosomes from his blood protein. Each human has twenty-three pairs of chromosomes. The last one dictates if you are a pretty belle girl or a handsome redneck dude, but you know that too. I'm not a physician or a scientist. I'm a soldier but I have a degree from college too. I had to take a couple of science classes to graduate, too.

"From my college genetics class there are numerous mutations which are found within each pair of twenty-three chromosomes and we are not a perfect human like Brother Jesus. For example, medical scientists have found multiple markers of rheumatoid arthritis within six DNA chromosomes. Chromosome numbers seven, nine, and fourteen identify each rheumatoid arthritis marker which is labeled as RA, an ugly and painful autoimmune disease with signs of swelling and stiffness. The hand bones and the toe bones turn sideways with pain on the human, starting at the age of forty. Fern's mama has it.

"So, we got Fern tested for the RA markers within her twenty-two other chromosomes also, since we live in a technology advanced civilization. She doesn't have the marker for RA. Thank goodness! The point, each chromosome of a human contains lots of markers and tons of information that scientists are just now trying to interpret. I don't know what you saw and I don't question it either. I'm just saying be a little more opened minded, Cody.

"You were surrounded by sons and daughters of billionaires, who like to lick their ass way too many times like a cat. If I had to guess, I would say that these kids of the billionaires had picked out a specific marker within the twenty-two pairs of chromosomes and then accidentally found that same marker presented in all the other billionaire kids too. I'm guessing here. It seemed to be some kind of exclusive billionaire ritual for fun there at Antebellum House with all the other billionaire kids. Brone was there and then ended that particular billionaire ritual, when he cold-blood murdered all the kids and their parents. I gotta tell you something else, too.

"About one year ago, Antebellum House was a high school establishment for teen billionaires at the school too and then the same damn thing happened again. All the high school teens and their pair of rich biological parents were murdered inside one of the small cottages and then the cottage was burned down into the ground while disguising all the physical evidence of mass murders. The only reason, the US fucking Federal Government found that tragic tale, one of the paid staff members who was on vacation came and went looking for her personal items through the ashes which happened to be inside the burnt cottage. She was looking for a pair of diamond earrings. We both know that a diamond is the hardest mineral on Earth and does not burn. She kicked around the dusty dried ashes, finding some loose teeth, since teeth didn't melt like skin, tissue, organs, and bones. Yeah! She was horrified. Yeah! The president was stunned. Yeah! Our first calling card showed that something dangerous was living with us here on US soil.

"But, we still didn't have a clue, until the Ashmore assassinations here in Bama. Fucking bastard Governor Ashmore allowed some illegal aliens into our US State of Alabama to clean out his shitty bathrooms and polish the wooden floors of his mansion in Birmingham. Yeah! Governor Ashmore invited the terrorist cell onto the front porch of his house and then into the front door of every American home. The gang of illegal aliens brought more of their shitty friends too while sleeping in rented apartments all over Birmingham which had been paid with our State of Alabama income taxes. Yeah! If bastard Governor Ashmore was still alive, then his body would be hanging down from the highest oak tree here in Jefferson County, still swinging back and forth in blue tinted colors of death. Hindsight wins, again! So, Brone and all his bastards got into Alabama while having some fun with the true Americans. Well, we are going to end their fun soonest. I don't know who and where your real biological parents are located Cody, but I promise that we'll find out."

Cody stared with a nod and a stern face in silence at the roadway.

Hucks slowed the truck and turned off the interstate, driving down a two lane road towards his home with a sigh. "Well, I have almost emptied the treasure chest with my accumulated knowledge coming from numerous type reports, many people, and a few secrets. Do you wanna add to my Christmas list, Cody?"

"Naw, sir!"

Hucks exhaled. "I gotta tell one more thing."

"We're having fried chicken for supper," laughed Cody. He liked Hucks, who reminded Cody of his co-workers at both the US Marshal branch office in Birmingham and the secret team of the Starlit Pageant in Huntsville. Cody did not know what the shit was going to happen or had happening to him, but he did want Brone dead too.

Hucks laughed. "I don't rightly know, but we can cook you up a pan of fried chicken. I do the cooking, since Fern is a modern day woman. We share everything fifty-fifty and we do everything fifty-fifty. I do the cooking. She does the eating," laughing. "Brone is your daddy..."

"Fucking shit!" Cody turned with a gasp and shook a bald head. "No! Naw!"

Hucks continued to drove with a frown. "I'm sorry, son. When Brone was poking around on the computer, he was taking his sweet tea time. He also left a bottle of water with a set of his visible fingerprints and some long strands of hair follicles coming from his brown tinted ponytail. Islander grabbed all that physical evidence first like a good soldier. The fucking US Federal Government analyzed it many, many times, Cody. The president was stunned too. You, Skippy, Islander, Yorkie, and Fucner were assigned to find the child of Brone. The child was there all the time at Antebellum House too. That child is you, Cody. Brone was there at Antebellum House looking for you. You survived every one of his personal murder massacres too. You are alive also. This is too much of a coincidence even for the computational mathematical model. Thus, Brone is looking for you."

Cody exhaled with a set of shallow breathes and looked down at the floor, up to the sky, at the roadway with shock. "I am his son. Brone is my dad. But he and I were face to face on the Tennessee River at Swan Creek. He doesn't look in body or facial appearance like me. He is short. I'm tall. He has brown hair. I have blonde hair. He has a round face. I have a heart shaped face. Naw! I don't believe you or it or him. Brone is not my daddy. That's a great big ugly fucking ass mistake by the US Federal Government."

Hucks pulled off the road and slowly drive ahead, parking the truck in front of the two story house with a nod. "I agree. We will work together and find out the truth, Cody. First, we eat and act like a happy family unit. Fern is most eager to meet you, so pretend to like it here at my house. Okay! Second, we and you are safe, all of us. Third, your new job doesn't start until Saturday, so you get a few days to rest and relax. Do you have a question or a comment or an opinion?" He reached over and grabbed the door handle, cracking over the truck door while staring at Cody.

Cody reached over and cracked open the door while smiling at Hucks. "A hucks starter is an auxiliary power unit on a truck that provides the initial sparks to start up a piston aircraft engine," he slid out and stood upright in front of his new home with a chuckle, slamming the door shut.

They spun around with a laugh and entered the house.
Thursday September 2nd

City of Huntsville within the US State of Alabama

(90 miles north from Greenville)

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

01:01 pm

Redstone Point Army Base

Private office setting of Hucks

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

The office space was square shaped with a wall of glass windows which was posed on the opposite side of the entrance door that overlook a grove of green and brown tinted woodlands, since the State of Alabama preserved all the natural forest land for each deer hunter with a loaded shotgun. The office desk faced the door with a pair of sitting chairs.

One of the chairs was occupied with a short male with a head of cropped brown tinted hair and a pair of brown eyes. An array of tall and short metal filing unlocked cabinets kissed one of the side walls. The opposite wall held a long sofa with a female and a baby, who was sucking on her breast.

The tall and slender male with a head of cropped black colored hair, a pair of violet colored eyes, a tone of dark tinted skin and thirty something years old displays a one-piece flight suit as a military pilot, wearing a pair of reflective aviator sunglasses inside the office. He entered the room with a smile and stopped, standing behind the occupied chair with a frown at his superior officer.

Hucks pointed the occupied chair with a smile. "Woot, I would like for you to meet His Royal Highness Prince Jon..."

Jon was a short and squat male with a head of cropped brown colored hair, a pair of brown eyes, a tone of pale tinted skin, wearing a dark gray tinted business suit with a yellow tinted long necktie. He stood upright from the chair and spun around with a smile and a hand to Woot. "Good morning, I am Jon, Prince of the England. You might be more familiar with my brother Jack. He recently was crowned as the king of the UK and is married to Queen Jill. They have a newborn princess named..."

"Really?" Woot continued to stand and wear the sunglasses with a chuckle.

"Really!" Hucks frowned at his employee and his friend Woot while trying to diffuse an international incident inside his private office between the US and the UK.

Woot didn't give a fucking damn about other foreign country relations or relatives. He frowned. "Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water. Jack fall down and broke his crown," chuckling. "Well, shit! I always thought that English sentence was a children's nursery rhyme. Gawd damn! If I be the dumbest butthole on planet Earth," he laughed with Fern. Jon continued to smile at the silly banter from the American asshole.

Hucks exhaled with worry. "I am not going to refute his personality flaw, Jon. Woot, scoot your boots into my office, sit your ass down in my oversized and comfortable cherry colored leather chair that clashes violently with the sissy peach colored walls, all compliments of the US taxpayers and meet Prince Jon," he pointed down to the empty chair. Jon spun around and sat back down with a smile in silence.

Woot continued to stand and wear the sunglasses, looking down at the brown colored of Prince Jon with a confused brow. "Do I gotta call the asswipe, Prince Jon, too?"

Jon smiled at Woot. "No! Please, do not."

"No! Please, don't what? Beat you black and blue with my folded fists! Or piss on your leathers with my dick!" Woot smiled with amusement as Fern giggled and continued to breast feed the baby.

Jon stood upright with a confused brow and spun around to see Woot, "Leathers? I am not wearing a pair of leather gloves for an unfriendly fist fight, sir."

"Sir? Hucks!" Woot exhaled.

Hucks exhaled. "I can see that I am going to let Fern act as the UN ambassador for the current helicopter pilots, gentlemen," he turned and smiled at his wife.

"What the fuck?" Fern cuddled the baby with a frown at her husband, since she didn't care to entertain a spoiled royal brat from a foreign country either.

Hucks pointed with a smile at his wife. "Jon, this is my smart, beautiful, and low-maintenance wife, whom I love dearly with both my heart and soul. But, be careful she bites, stings, and pees whenever so slightly provoked liked a recoiled rattlesnake. Isn't that right, honey?" He chuckled.

"That is right, cub." Fern winked at Jon.

Woot continued to stare with sour frown down at the brown tinted hair roots of Jon, since Woot was the taller male. "Leathers, it is another term for a pair of walking shoes. A pair of foot shoes is usually made from a set of dried animal skins which is called leather. Some examples of the Earth species include but not limited to cow, snake, lizard, alligator, and ostrich. Do you possess any of these particular mammals within your vast UK kingdom, princess?"

"Woot!" Hucks frowned. "Jon, please do not bother with a proper response to that stupid question coming out of the parted lips of Woot. He is jealous as he is only a country redneck prince, not international royal one," smiling.

Woot looked down with a smile to see the diver wrist watch and back up with a wink to see Hucks. "Wow! It is time for my flight in-check, princess."

"Woot!" Hucks grinned down at Jon and then up at Woot.

Woot smiled at Hucks, "Yeah, darling!"

Hucks turned and smiled to his wife. "Fern, could you please show Jon around our well stocked food and beverage cafeteria, dear? And could you please bring me back a small soy milk carton?"

"Shore, darling!" She stood upright from the chair with the baby and moved ahead towards the door while escaping from the upcoming fighting fury of Woot for a few minutes. They exited the office space in silence.

Hucks scooted away from the office desk and plowed a nose into the nose of Woot, since the two males were equal both in height and weight. "Woot, do not start an international war here in Alabama, boy!"

Woot continued to smile and wear the sunglasses. "Why are you talking without a grammar contraction in your sentences? Princess shore is making quite a first impression on your what, wimpy ass or dumb neurons or pussy dick."

Hucks smirked at his long time childhood friend and formal city street neighbor. "Woot, you can be mad as a hell, until Farmer Brown's cows come home. But, you are voted the singularly armed personal bodyguard and twenty-four escort for Prince Jon. You got this command for pissing off the general."

"I saved the girl." Woot grinned.

Hucks grinned with a nod. "Yeah, ya did! Then, you had to fuck the beauty queen."

"Hey! In my innocence defense, first off, that queen wasn't a virgin. My swollen two inched diameter engorged dick immediately sucked with ease into an expanded three-inched diameter girly vagina in record time, buddy. That's how you test that virgin theory. Second off, she gave me permission. Third off, she wasn't drunk. Fourth off, I wasn't drunk either. Five and final argument, we were two consenting adults, over the age of eighteen..."

"Gawd! You are not innocent, since you turned nine years old in the fourth grade while trying to pull off the pink blouse on Nolanie around the corner of the building at school recess on the playground. And you took that beauty queen into your house for a fucking fun sex act. And she was eighteen years, three days, twelve hours, sixteen minutes, and forty-six seconds old, who was technically a teenager, Woot."

"You are speaking with more sentences without a contraction. When is the real Hucks returning back into your right brain lobe, buddy?"

"Allow me to remind you! I am your commanding officer. You are my subordinate. I give you orders. You obey orders. I order you. One, call His Highness Prince Jon or plain old Jon. Two, you act, not try to look a US officer gentleman. Three, guard his ass over yours. Fourth, tarry both your asses over to the Von Brown Center for the Miss Lily Pageant..."

"Hucks! The building for that beauty pageant exploded into the skyline making an array of prettily red, white, and blue fireworks on the fourth of July, one month ago."

"Jon is the surprise star guest for the American pageant. The Lily Pageant will broadcast the international competition with all these beauty queens coming from all the other foreign countries in London, England, next month. That damaged building was an old structure set for demolition later this year. Go to the new building on Bruise Street! That's the new location for the public event. And no one knows he is here kinda like Brother Jesus is presence, but you cannot see Him. You are going to be a non-voting judge, at the beauty pageant as the 'bestest' bodyguard for the prince."

Woot frowned. "I've never heard of the Miss Lily Beauty Pageant."

Hucks nodded. "The daughter of the dead billionaire of the Miss Starlit Pageant changed the name and ownership to her person to avoid all the nasty financial lawsuits against her daddy. Beauty pageants make millions of dollars for both the sponsors and owners."

Woot grinned. "I don't have a set of civilian clothes, only my flight suit."

Hucks swung around and moved ahead to the side wall, stopping and opened the closet door, reaching inside and pulled back a hanger. The hanger held a pressed jacket and dress shirt. He spun around and moved ahead with a smile, extending the hanger to Woot. "You got a redneck suit now which is a blue sports jacket and a white dress shirt without a necktie for your pageant début too."

Woot frowned down at hanger. "Did you rob my place for that jacket and that shirt?"

"Naw! It is my jacket and shirt! We both have been sharing our smelly coodies, since pre-kindergarten at the age of four years old as we both were neighbors and pals."

Woot grinned. "No dress shoes to complete the dress assemble. Too bad for me! I can't go."

"You possess your pair of polished up cowboy boots inside your flight locker, down the hallway, and then around the corner, where you keep for an emergency."

Woot pointed down at the wrist watch with a smile at Hucks. "I'm scheduled to fly my chopper in ten minutes, Hucks. So, I guess old buddy, you get to take Princess to Bruise Street for his superstar début at the Miss Lily Pageant."

"You are grounded from flying the helicopter until Jon leaves and heads back to England."

"Fuck you, Hucks! You can't ground me."

"I can and I did."

"Fuck, man! I ain't taking this bullshit assignment to babysit a sissy Jonny boy. One, I'm a pilot. Two, I'm fit to fly. Three, I'm flying in ten minutes."

"That is right, buddy! So, I guess my new flight report from the medical doc will tattle about your sudden sinus infection."

"I don't have a shitty snot-green sinus problem ever. If that is the best you can conjure from your fucking imagination, Hucks, then I guess I win. You lose out of this one, scout."

Hucks lifted up one hand with a smile and looked down to read a blank piece of paper coming from the office desk. "Hmm! My report says here that your sinus infection has gone bye-bye, since you sucked down all these physician-prescribed penicillin pills."

"Son of bitch! You understand that a filed clinical medication report grounds me immediately," Woot looked down with a stern face at each boot toe and back up with a grin to see Hucks. "I really hate doing this, but I'm go straight to the High Command..."

Hucks waved the blank sheet of paper next to his smile. "This military order came straight down from the High Command, Woot. You're a phenomenal chopper pilot, qualifying you for this peasy easy duty along with being a big ass-flirt around all the pretty girls at the USA Starlit Pageant, since you wooed that beauty queen," chuckling.

Woot looked down with a sneer at the boot toes, "Fuck..."

"...got you into that major trouble that time. And Jonny boy will get you out of major trouble now. After this duty, you get promoted and your own copter squad."

Woot looked up with a sour frown to see his commander and his friend with a whisper, "And what will happen to you, good buddy?"

"I get promoted with you as your command officer. We are the non-musical fighting band of two brothers, until the end of it all, dude."

"And what will happen to Fern?"

"She is bailing her pretty ass out of the USA military wanting to be a full time mommy. I whole heartedly approve, agree, and applaud, since I wanna be a full time warrior."

"And what will happen during the war?"

"No war for two days with Jonny boy. Promise me, Woot!" Hucks reached out with a smile and slapped the collar bone of Woot on the collar bone. "Go and make your daddy proud, son!"

Woot laughed. "I'd rather make my daddy and me a couple of million dollars. Can I go to the gambling tables with Princess instead?"

"There is no gambling table in Bama."

He smirked. "The gambling tables are located within the great State of Mississippi. So, I can tarry and not carry the ugly ass of Princess for a visitation to another more interesting southern state."

Hucks shoved Woot backward towards the closed door with a smile. "Leave and get to work and protect with a set of capital letters and a set of quotation marks, the Prince of England, solider. I'll pull some loose boot strings and get permission to let you shoot a shotgun at him as his private jet leaps up and off the military runaway."

"Done!" Woot laughed with a nod.

The door slammed open. Fern and Jon reentered the office with a smile. Jon stopped with a smile next to Woot. "My limousine is ready for our judgeship duty, Woot."

Woot exhaled with a huff of annoyance and back stepped from Hucks, spinning around with a sour frown and dashed towards the open archway. "Come on, your royal-pain-in-my-ass! I'll change into my clean shirt inside your limo."

Von Brown Center location

(15 miles south from Redstone Point)

01:33 pm

Lobby entrance setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

The limousine parked in front of the building. Woot and Jon both exited out from the limousine door and moved ahead towards the building entrance of the Von Brown Center or VBC. A tall middle aged wrinkled faced woman stood beside the glass door and rushed ahead with a smile, extending a hand only to Jon, dropping open a mouth with a gasp. "Prince Jon, you're the real prince of Great Britain." Jon reaches out for her hand and then held it, caressing the limb with a nod and a smile in silence. She blushes in pink tones and bats the eyelashes with a set of flirtation intentions with a smile. "I'm Dolly. I am so honored to shake your hand, Your..."

"...Hindiness," Woot moved ahead and slammed into the back spine of Jon, turning to scan the crowd of people with a worried brow. "We need to get moving out of the openness of the lobby arena, in case someone likes your heart more than your hand, Prince," he scooted around the other Jon and stopped, blocking a tall body beside the short prince, since Woot was the officially paid bodyguard of the royalty.

Jon smiled at Dolly. "You are very kind," he wrapped a hand around her arm. "Can you personally escort us toward the judge's section inside the building?"

Dolly nodded with a smile and spun them around leading towards the auditorium room. Woot followed behind the couple. She leaned over with a smile. "Yes, of course, Your Highness Prince Jon! Welcome to the VBC or the Von Brown Center. I'm your event coordinator for your duties as a judge..."

"Where is my personal event coordinator? Don't I get one too?" Woot moved behind with a chuckle at the back spines of Jon and Dolly, darting both eyeballs to the left, then to the right, and then around the crowded and empty spaces for any major or minor trouble.

Dolly moved closer into the space of Jon with a smile and tossed an arm around the space. "This is the entrance hall into the VBC. The VBC seats 2,003 persons inside the concert hall. You can see live a musical show or a beautiful ballet or a concert symphony, or a wild country music show. There are individual dressing rooms for each show stars, an orchestra pit, a reception room with food and an excellent sound and lighting system. Maybe, we can take in a woodwind concert, after your judgeship duties have finished, Prince Jon," she giggled. Jon smiled in silence. She continued to move ahead with a smile. "The Von Brown Center requires a Certificate of Liability Insurance up to one million dollars, in case an accident..."

"Again!" Woot darted both eyelids behind the ass for any rear assaults on Jon with a chuckle.

She smiled. "The VBC is very convenient to the local hotels, restaurants, and other fun attractions like the grass park across the street. I usually eat lunch there..."

"The time is 1:43 pm. Beep!" Woot darted the eyelids up and around the balcony, over to the staircase looking for an assault that would target Jon.

Dolly led up the stairs wth a smile. "This is the hat-shaped stage, where all the girls promenade in the evening gowns. She will walk out and then stand here and smile for you, Prince Jon..."

"...and smile for me, too, darling!" Woot turned and scanned an empty auditorium with a chuckle.

Dolly stepped onto the top level and turned to face a side door, strolling across an empty hallway, stopping and opened the door with smile at Jon. "You have arrived, Prince Jon."

"We have arrived, Judge Woot," Woot stopped and stood behind the back spine of Jon with a smile.

She winked at Jon. "I can escort you back towards your limo, if you call my cell. Here's my card for dinner, maybe! Is the air conditioning temperature to your liking, Prince Jon? I can contact the technician, running the lighting, heating and air conditioning..."

Woot shoved Jon through the archway with a laugh. "Are you heated, now, Your Highness? Do you require a cup of cold water or a short colder shower? Nope! I thought not as well," he scooted around Jon and moved ahead towards a tall unknown male who wore a silly smile.

The tall and obsess male with a head of balding hair roots, a tone of pale tinted skin stood in the middle of the room wearing a blue colored business suit and an orange colored necktie with a smile, extending a hand to Woot. "Good afternoon! I am the head judge of all the judges for the Lily Pageant. And you are?"

"Woot, Hoot, Captain," Woot smiled with a snigger. Jon pulled up and stood beside the nose profile of Woot, studying the American's silly manner.

"Captain Hoot Woot," the head judge frowned with confusion as a set of soft chuckles echoed throughout the ballroom.

"I forgot that I got promoted. I'm a Major Woot Hoot, now, today." Woot smiled with a nod at the judge. Jon chuckled with the other judges.

The head judge frowned with annoyance at Woot and turned with a smile to see Jon. "Ahem! Welcome, to Huntsville and the Lily Pageant, Prince Jon! Major, you will sit on the left side of His Royal Highness Prince Jon at the end of the judge's table, if you please." Woot and Jon spun around and moved ahead towards the end of the table, sitting down in silence. The head judge spun around to face the green tinted clothed table, standing in the middle of the room with a smile to each judge. "I am very pleased with all our judges for the Miss Lily Pageant this afternoon. We are presented by numerous sports stars coming from the various sporting activities of ice hockey, football, basketball plus our local celebrities and our most important guest judge, Prince Jon," he clapped and grinned with the others. "This is the interview process which counts for thirty percent of the girl's total scoring points out of hundred. We will interview each girl one at a time and we will break for lunch. There is a notepad and a pencil in front of each chair. Please use the pencil and mark down a number between one and thirty for the girl's performance interviewing. At the end of the session, these points will be added to her swimsuit and evening dress competition. Do you have any questions for me?"

Woot reached down and grabbed, lifting the pencil in the air with a smile. "When is the swimsuit competition?"

The head judge smiled. "This morning, you missed the event, Captain. I am so sorry to announce. Thank you for inquiring!" He moved ahead and scooted around the judges, sitting down in the middle of the table with a smile at the hostess. "Please, bring in the first girl!" The door opened.

03:34 pm

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Woot wiggled an ass side to side on top of the barely padded fabric cloth that was colored in manly hues of tan, red, and golden which lined the bottom of the hard chair, sitting beside Jon. He scribbled down the sixty-six set of pretty curly curls on top of the provided paper with the provided pencil. He was not one of the judges, just the justice while body guarding with a right shooting hand plus babysitting with a left shoving hand at the royal-pain-in-his-ass Prince Jon for the next two days of beauty pageant woes.

He performed an average scribble of six pretty curly curls per girl. So far, there had been eleven pretty girls since 1:47 pm between four potty breaks and five coffee breaks. Woot had quit exhibiting a lip drooling over each pretty plastic-bubble-headed, shallow mice-squeaking and false-faking-body female almost one hour, thirteen minutes, and six seconds ago. He could not believe how fake and shallow the newly dubbed species named Beauty Babe or BB.

In addition, each BB had exhibited a simple set of boring English words which formed a limited two or three English sentence making for some non-excited movements inside his white undies.

Woot crossed the leg and shook the boot toe up and down while staring at the next pretty beauty contestant. The pretty beauty contestant sat and shook a designer sandal also. Jon leaned over with a smile and a whisper into the cheekbone of Woot. "See your doctor!"

Woot continued to scribble down on the paper with a whisper. "What does that mean?"

The head judge smiled at the pretty beauty contestant. "What is your ultimate goal in life, Miss..."

Jon wrote the number thirty next to the contestant, since he was a judge but didn't want to insult any one of the pretty American beauty contestants, whispering into the cheekbone of Woot. "She has a set of muscle spasms which is caused by dehydration or muscle overuse or nerve irritation or low levels of potassium mineral or a calcium deficiency. She can walk around to relieve the pain or shake your leg and stretch the muscle. If the cramps persist, then you need to see your doctor..."

"I wanna feed the starving children too. Thank you!" The beauty contestant possessed a head of long black tinted hair and a pair of green eyes, standing upright from the chair with a smile and spun around, exiting the interview event.

"Shut it, Princess!" Woot whispered back and wrote down the number zero next to the beauty contestant, since he was a non-judge. He awarded the number zero points for his zero participation. He noticed that Jon had written thirty points next to each contestant which was the maximum points for the interviewing process. He chuckled at the chicken shit prince.

The head judge nodded to the next sitting beauty contestant and asked the same repetitive question. "What is your ultimate goal in life, Miss..."

Jon leaned over with a smile and a whisper into the cheekbone of Woot. "She has a set of raccoon eyes..."

Woot wrote down the number zero next to the beauty contestant name with a frown and a whisper back to Jon. "What does that mean?"

Jon wrote down the number thirty next to her name with a whisper into the cheekbone of Woot. "A set of raccoon eyes represents a dark circle around each eye sockets which can be blamed on age or fatigue. The lack of sleep makes your skin pale emphasizing the dark circles too. Allergies also lead to dark circles plus heredity."

"...and I wanna feed the starving children too. Thank you!" The beauty contestant displayed a head of long blonde colored hair and a pair of blue eyes, standing upright from the chair with a smile and left the room.

"Shut it, Princess!" Woot whispered with a frown back to Jon.

The head judge nodded with a smile to the next sitting beauty contestant. "What is your ultimate goal in life, Miss..."

Jon wrote down the number thirty next to the contestant with whisper into the eardrum of Woot. "Eyelid spasms are unpredictable, bothersome, and harmless. Eye twitching can be caused by stress, fatigue, eyestrain, caffeine, dry eyes, or s neurological disorder like Tourette's syndrome. Any eyelid spasm will go away by itself. Or you can use a Botox injection..."

"...and I wanna feed the starving children too. Thank you!" The beauty contestant exhibited a head of long red tinted hair and a pair of brown eyes, standing upright from the chair with a smile and left the room.

Woot whispered with a frown back to Jon. "Are any of these girls somewhat almost hundred perfect for you, Your Hindiness?"

The head judge nodded with a smile to the next sitting beauty contestant. "What is your ultimate goal in life, Miss..."

"No," Jon stared with a whisper at the girl. Woot wrote down the number zero next to new contestant in silence like always. Jon wrote down the number zero with a whisper into the eardrum of Woot. "She sweats with nervousness. Excessive sweating is hyperhidrosis. It is a mood killer for sex with lots of smelly water on the palms, the foot soles, and inside both the armpits which can be easily treated by a physician."

"...and I wanna feed the starving children, too. Thank you!" The beauty contestant exhibited a head of short brown colored hair and a pair of brown eyes, standing upright from the chair with a smile and left the room.

"Shut it, Princess!" Woot whispered with a frown back to Jon.

The head judge nodded with a smile to the next sitting beauty contestant. "What is your ultimate goal in life, Miss..."

"This is the first sign," Jon softly giggled into the cheekbone of Woot while staring at the new contestant. Woot wrote down the number zero on the paper next to the new contestant. Jon leaned over with a smile and a whisper to Woot while continuing to stare at the same contestant. "Earwax fights a bodily infection, keeping both the ears clean through the ear opening. You should keep both fingers and cotton swabs out of your ear canals. If your continuous clean earwax out of the ear, the impaction could cause a hearing loss. Do not clean your eardrums!"

"Shut it, Princess!" Woot reached up with a whisper and wiggled a finger inside the other eardrum with a stern face turning away from Jon, looking down with a gasp to see the yellow earwax. "Ugh!"

The next beauty contestant strutted from the door and moved towards the single chair with a smile, wearing a pair of bright red cowgirl boots underneath a short white dress, sitting down on the edge of the chair with both hands inside a lap like a good southern belle. The head judge nodded with a smile to the next sitting beauty contestant. "What is your ultimate goal in life, Miss..."

She smiled at each judge. "I don't wanna answer that question. I wanna ask you a question. Is that allowed for my interviewing process?"

The head judge gasped and turned to scan the rest of the other judges at the long table. "Is that allowed? Does anyone know the official Miss Lily pageant rules for this request from a beauty contestant?"

Jon smiled with a nod at the bold girl. "I am making it allowed for today. Please proceed with your question, miss."

"Ana! Thank you, judge! In the country of Japan, when you are meeting on a first time date with a nice guy for supper, what is the official formal greeting?" She giggled with a smile at each judge.

Woot reached down with a smile and whipped out the mobile telephone along with some of the other judges while looking for the correct answer to the bold challenge.

One of the judges looked down with a smile and thumbed on the tiny screen of the mobile telephone. "Gimme a sec! I'm using my cell phone for the answer."

Woot quickly found the answer with a smile on the mobile telephone and looked up with a wink to see the new bold contestant. "What is your blood type?" He laughed with the other judges.

Ana nodded with a smile to Woot, "You are correct, Mr. Judge. If your date possesses the blood type A, then it means that you are hardworking, neat, and sensitive. Type O blood means that you are an independent and logical self-starter. But, beware! A pesky flying mosquito likes to suck on O-type blood too. Type-AB blood is the rarest all human blood inside a biological body, who exhibits thinking and memory problems which means that you forget a lot of stuff."

Woot winked with a smile. "Ana definitely isn't blood type-AB."

Ana nodded with a grin to each judge. "The expression: blood is thicker than water comes from the Middle Eastern culture. It means a pair of warrior brothers, who share their blood that they shed in a war battle are closer than a pair of biological brothers."

Jon smiled at Ana. "I do believe the Englishmen originated the expression, stressing the importance of bloodlines while keeping the money within the royal family tree," he laughed with the others. "You are highly entertaining, Ana. I hope we see more of you later this week. Thank you very much for an intriguing interview!"

Ana stood upright from the chair with a smile to each judge. "You're very welcome, panel of judges. Bye, ya'll!" She spun around and moved towards the closed door with a giggle of amusement.

Woot leaned over with a whisper and a smile into the cheekbone of Jon while staring at the back spine of the bold contestant. "There is the winner of Miss Lily beauty contest. Now, go and erase all the thirty points from the other girls and give each one zero points. Then give Ana all your thirty points for the interview portion." Jon wrote the number thirty down next to the name of Ana with a smile while changing all the other contestants to the number zero for Woot.

Ana left the room as each judged continued to erase on the paper.

Saturday September 4th

05:05 pm

Home setting of Woot

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Hucks parked the truck in the loose gravel and killed the engine, turning with a smile to see the two passengers in the back seat of the vehicle. "Cody and Jon, get ready for another American surprise!" He cracked open the door and slid out the door, standing upright, closing the door and swiftly scooted ahead around the front bumper and stopped, opening the passenger door for his wife Fern. He reached inside and gently grabbed the baby from the hands of Fern while making a set of funny sounds into the face of the baby like a loving father and cuddled the baby onto a shoulder. He reached out and grabbed her hand with a smile while assisting Fern onto the gravel in front of Hucks.

Jon cracked open the back door and slid out the rear door of the truck, slowly moving ahead towards an open ended tall airplane hangar, turning to scan with a smile the woodlands landscape with intrigue.

Cody cracked open the back door and slid off the rear seat, swiftly scooting around the rear bumper and stopped, standing next to the nose profile of Fern while staring at the same airplane hangar with a smile. Fern reached out and grabbed the arm of Cody leaning with a whisper into his cheekbone. "The fourth team member of the American squad has been briefed on the delicate situation but usually likes to ignore all the military orders, so just play along with the gang. Okay, Cody?" Cody nodded with a chuckle at the new delicate situation.

Hucks spun around to lead the group and held the baby moving ahead and entered underneath an open and tall airplane hangar, seeing a solo figure in the darkness, waving a free hand with a soft shout without bothering the baby, "Hey, Woot!"

"Moot?" Cody moved beside Fern with a shout out and stopped, standing between Hucks and Jon, staring at the new member of the American team.

Woot snarled up at the taller young teen-ass, "Woot."

Cody had some fun with the adult asswipe, smirking with a nod, "Contrary to common misuse! The word 'moot' does not imply something is superfluous. It means that the subject is either a person or a place or a thing which is open to debate by an Englishman definition. Am I not correct, there, Prince Jon?"

"Ay, mate!" Jon stopped and stood next to Cody with a wink at Woot.

Woot frowned with a sneer at Cody. "Who's the baby smartass?"

Cody nodded with a grin, "Contrary to ubiquitous misuse! It means you possess the ability to produce nausea in like other persons or mammals or aliens, an American definition by me."

Fern laughed. Woot sneered. Hucks chuckled. "This Woot is nauseous too, but I love the baby smartass."

Woot frowned at Cody. "Damn! How old are you, teen-ass kid?"

"I am seventeen years, ten months, eight days, six hours, four minutes, and two seconds." Cody looked with a smile to see the wrist watch and then up with a wink to see Woot.

Woot grinned wickedly. "You are a childish minor now, where I can't beat the shit out of your ass, yet. Time is a steady variable that waits on no man, even a baby smartass that becomes an adult smartass in less than two calendar months. Set your cell phone properly, son! I promise that you will become a man after two months and one day," he laughed with the others.

Hucks frowned. "Ignore Woot! He lives in the stupid zone."

"Drop zone!" Cody frowned with confusion.

Fern smiled. "Hucks, he likes to live with us inside the stupid zone too."

Cody moved ahead and led the group through the long airplane hangar which was shaped like a tall open ended tunnel, exiting into the bright and heated sunlight and stopped, dropping open a mouth with a gasp at the object. "Hey! That is a big long and green colored choo-choo train." He moved ahead with a smile towards the train. Woot spun around with a smile and moved between Fern and Hucks while staring at the back spine of Cody

Jon moved beside Fern with a gasp at the same object. "What is this contraption, please, Woot?"

"It is a cab of an engine train, Your Hindiness. Gawd! Don't they teach first graders to toot on a train?" Woot continued to stroll between Fern and Hucks with a chuckle at the train.

"This is only the engine train on a small track siding. Where does your engine stop, Woot?" Cody continued to stroll towards the train and narrowed both eyelids, staring into the far distance ahead of the train.

"My personal train car is numbered 518, a puke green body with a black rooftop, a set of fog lights, and a working fog horn," Woot moved ahead and stopped at the open entranceway on the engine compartment.

"How in the hell did you buy an engine train?" Cody stopped with smile and stared at the train car.

"It is a retired ex-Burlington Northern NW2. I snagged her for a deal, before she was to be stored and used for parts," Woot pointed up at the train with a smile.

"Are you wealthy, Woot?" Jon stopped and stood beside Cody studying the two objects. One was an engine compartment which pulled a separate matching neon green colored box car.

"I got more money than Jesus but not God," Woot formed a row with Fern, Hucks, Jon, and Cody, admiring the engine and train car.

"Woot means that Brother Jesus didn't use money to live as a poor person while saving lives on planet Earth." Hucks laughed. "So, Woot's fortune is closer to God's and lesser than Satan's."

"That is a good place to be right between God and Satan." Fern nodded with a smile at the train.

Woot pointed up with a smile at the green tinted box car. "The old girl was the property of TVA. They are one of many US Federal Government agencies that donate old pieces of equipment, mostly in sorry-ass bulk to the cities of Huntsville, Decatur, and Athens for the town's local Railroad Museum. Since, it is important for all the local young rednecks and young belles to remember that the mobile telephone and the service utility vehicle didn't always exist for all their mommies and daddies during the 1980s. A good buddy of mine got wind of the private choo-choo train sell. So, I stepped up my ostrich boots and gave the Railroad Museum a fat donation check to purchase other old girl, paying the nice free labored volunteers. They gave me the engine."

Cody pointed at the engine with a smile. "The front of the cab is the engine compartment. This switcher is configured for remote control operation, ya'll. See? There are three antennas which are mounted on the roof top. From the left to the right, the first antenna is a 900 MHz unit for radio data monitoring. The second is a VHF whip for satellite radio messages. And the last whip is a 2.4 GHz antenna which is connected to a Wi-Fi card on a computer unit. O man! A Wi-Fi card can access any entertainment or news television programs, any sporting games, all internet videos, and provide any GPS navigation to any other destination city within the USA," he climbed the steps with a smile and entered into the engine compartment, laughing at the sign. "The door sign reads: All Aboard."

"All of the above, Cody!" Hucks moved behind Cody and toted the baby.

"Cody is a very intelligent young male." Jon followed behind Hucks with a smile.

"Cody is a baby smartass. Who invited him to my tea party?" Woot followed behind Jon with a sour frown.

"The US Federal Government, your boss, and me," Hucks turned and stood against the one of the side glass windows inside the engine compartment viewing the landscape, holding the baby.

Fern climbed the steps last with a smile, "All of the above, Woot."

05:15 pm

Woot Toot executive train location

Engine compartment setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with natural and artificial light bulbs

Woot moved ahead through the entrance archway and turned to the side, leading towards a second door with a smile and stopped, spinning around to see each face. "I re-furnished the old girl into a posh lady. Then, I added the restored ancient F-box car unit, creating a beautifully sexually enhanced romantic Hollywood theater car which makes the Woot Toot executive train."

"How are you able to slide the Woot Toot executive train down from your home to your place of employment, without getting arrested and jailed for utilizing a US Federal railroad system?" Jon stopped in the middle of the compartment and turned with a stern face to scan the engine compartment of modern electronics for power and function of a train.

Cody stopped and stood in front of the framed glass that was bolted onto the metal wall, reading out loud, "Spec Sheet. Model is NW2. Type is B-B switcher. Built on August 18, 1946. Series number 1118. Engine is 12 cylinders. 1,000 horses. Yeehaw!" He tosses both arms into the air with a laugh.

Woot pointed out the window with a smile. "The Huntsville and Madison County Railroad Authority was created in the year 1984 by two separate named city governments of Huntsville and Madison. The original siding rail was a fourteen-mile short line that came from the small town of Athens towards the middle of metro city of Huntsville. Based on an expensive taste or a big screw-up by the railroad administration, the Louisville and Nashville Railroad Authority abandoned the branch line leaving a completely intact the track siding or rails as layman said. However, the land feuding between Madison, Athens, and Huntsville broke up the red clay dirt causing some of the siding to be damaged..."

"...with both guns and knives," chuckled Cody.

"Naw, soldier boy! The home construction industry in the year 1984 exploded and then the fourteen-mile short line became the tiniest private railroad system in the history of the world which consisted of three miles. Boom! Boom! Boom! Your Hindiness-assness!" Woot tossed both arms into the air and slapped down to each leg with a laugh.

"That is too many 'nesses,' Woot." Fern stopped and stood beside Hucks, reaching out and grabbed the baby while rocking back and forth in place, looking down with a smile at her sleeping child.

"Actually, I could've added some more hindies in the English sentence." Woot smiled. "Welcome to the Woot Depot! This is Bama's smallest body union depot in the USA. It serves more than one thousand whores when running smoothly," he spun around with a laugh and slid open the side door, entering into the single box car.

"When running roughly, do you only fuck the top half of the thousand whores?" Cody followed behind Woot with a laugh into the second box car.

"The kid's sharp." Hucks spun around with a laugh and followed behind Cody.

Woot stopped a few feet from the doorway and spun around with a frown inside the second box car, "Naw."

"Yup! The kid is sharper than Woot." Hucks laughed.

Woot tossed both hands in the air with a smile. "Naw! This is the centerpiece of Woot Depot, the man cave."

Cody stopped and turned to scan the room with a smile without touching any of the objects. "Wow! This is awesome. There are three seventy-inched plasmas on every fucking wall, a smart usage of good geographical smallness. One, two, three, four, five rows of lounge chairs for twenty-five peopled. Do you have twenty-five friendlies, Woot?"

Hucks strolled around the man cave with a laugh. "Naw! He has twenty-five uglies."

Woot smiled. "Ride my train, boys! The Woot Depot is open every night from five pm to pass out moment. Visitors, please feel free to do a self-guided tour. Be warned! You are required to obey all the display signs."

Cody moved ahead and stopped, leaning through the new archway with a gasp and a smile. "My gawd! There are four separate queen-sized bed mattresses in here."

Hucks pulled up beside Cody and stopped, reaching up with a smile, tapping on the mounted sign above the archway. "Read the sign, Cody!"

Cody looked up with a smile. "The above sign over the archway reads: Fuck here!" He spun around with a gasp to see Woot. "Where's the whore, Woot?"

Woot shook a skull with a laugh. "BYOB, bring your own babe into the Woot Depot. I can't supply every single gawd damn detail, man, or boy in this case."

"Eat here!" Hucks back stepped with a smile and sat down at one of three tall tables with a set of four stools which was used for watching the football games, munching on food plate, and drinking a cold beer.

"Rest here!" Cody back stepped from the archway and slid down into one of the lounge chairs, kicking up the boot toes on top of the foot stool in front of one of the television plasmas with a smile and laugh.

"Drink here!" Fern sat down at the bar counter and rocked her sleeping baby with a smile.

Cody continued to laugh and scan the entertainment room with enjoyment. Jon leaned against the open archway of the box car while observing all of the silly Americans with a smile in silence.

Woot led out the man-cave with a smile. "Come on! You ain't seen nothing, yet. Follow the leader!"

05:26 pm

Engine compartment setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Woot scooted through the archway and strolled back into the spacious engine compartment, stopping and stood in front of the television screen on the far wall. The screen displayed a grid of both vertical and horizontal city streets of metro city Huntsville. Cody followed behind Woot and stopped beside him with a smile. "Whoa! This is a mounted computer that is wired with GPS navigation which is available at all times for listening to data radio monitoring of the dispatcher to the conductor, to the rail yard..."

Woot turned and smiled at the nose profile of Cody. "You must be the 'bestest' rail-fan in Bama, Cody."

Hucks moved ahead and stopped, sliding down into the built-in bench seating for all the riding passengers next to Fern with a frown. "What is a rail-fan? I'm heard of a football fan, a computer fan, a rotating fan."

Cody dropped down on both knees and pointed to each electronic piece of equipment with a smile. "Whoa! A mini-motherboard broadcasts with a 1.4 GHz mobile processor. This system hardly breaks a smelly fart being so quiet with the awesome motherboard. The computer system has 512 mega ram, a laptop hard drive, and a wireless network card."

"What is Cody saying?" Fern wiped the baby drool from the parted lips.

Cody continued to smile and point at each electronic. "You can play video games of war while drinking a beer without driving a car."

Jon moved ahead and sat down in the bench seat across from Fern and Hucks. "Cody has just scientifically explained how the remote control system works on Woot Toot's train."

Cody continued to smile and point at each devise. "See here? On the left side of the gray panel, underneath the seven-inched LCD television monitor, this small hole is the infrared remote control devise to guide Woot Toot's train into the train depot at the Von Brown Center. Wow!"

"The remote control system is very sophisticated on your train, Woot," Jon nodded with a smile out the window.

"Unlike her master," smiled Hucks.

Woot stopped and stood inside the conductor booth, reaching up and slid open the window, pressing a button with a smile. "I can open all the side windows inside the cab, change the volume on the musical player, and skip through the boring songs on the music playlist, without using a mouse or a keyboard. The electronic signal will dim all the compartment lights in my private train car for you know..."

"You know? I don't know." Jon turned and winked at Hucks.

"Jon needs some Bama redneck lessons immediately for 'the you know,'" Hucks smiled at Jon.

Woot pointed at the rear skull of Cody with a smile. "Cody, he volunteers to show Jon 'the you know.'"

Cody continued to smile and point at each devise. "The Northern Southern railway uses TWC or Track Warrant Control throughout the region of Bama with a remote control devise that interlocks over the Tennessee River..."

Woot reached out and patted the small black box in the center of gray leather console. The box displayed the digital number of 160.180. "This box scanner picks up all rail-fan frequencies for AAR Channel 18, 160.180 NS Road on Channel 1; AAR Channel 09, 160.245 NS from Dispatcher to Train on Channel 1; AAR Channel 48, 160.830 NS from Train to Dispatcher on Channel 2; AAR Channel 11, 160.275 NS PBX between the city of Huntsville and the switching station at Sheffield. And finally it picks up AAR Channel 17, 160.190 is me. I am the Huntsville and Madison County Railroad Authority..."

"Woot is an arrogant son of a bitch." Hucks laughed.

"That title belongs to the Satan. I'm much, much more than that." Woot laughed.

"Wow!" Cody continued to smile and point at each lever. "If you slide a finger and shift it to the right, panning the control to one channel or another, then you can pick up more channels..."

"Don't touch my box, son!" Woot turned and frowned at the blonde hair roots of Cody.

Cody whispered. "Sorry! The left control is for the road channels and right one hears all the yard channels. The time of day and weather conditions both impact on how far ya can hear the EDDs."

"EDDs?" Hucks frowned.

Cody continued to smile and point at each devise. "EDD is the Equipment Defect Detectors that comes from the scanner, where you can hear NS milepost 372.0; NS milepost 358.5; NS milepost 338.0; CSX Milepost 299.7..."

"Great, Cody!" Hucks shook a skull with a chuckle at the smart kid.

Woot turned and frowned at Hucks while pointing at the rear skull of Cody. "What is it?"

"Cody is a smarter man than you, bro," Hucks turned and winked at Woot.

Cody continued to smile and point at each devise. "You can hear all the live scanner auto feeds coming from the city of Decatur, where only one single train can cross over the Tennessee River on a bridge, which is owned by Norfolk Southern. But NS and CXS are train rivals..."

"Cody is a true rail fan." Jon nodded with a smile.

"The bridge sees more CXS traffic per day then it does thoroughbred traffic like the executive trains, such-like, the Woot Toot train. The city of Decatur railway is on the NS Memphis to Chattanooga route and the CXS rails ride the Nashville to Birmingham routes. Therefore, both NS and CXS occupy a medium-sized rail yard for the interchange traffic and local industry loads from carrying a box of chemical products to the pet food manufacturing boxes to cotton boll trailers, which are all loaded along the Tennessee River here in Decatur. The scanner feeds are set up for two monitoring radios, one for the local road channels, and one for the local rail yard. Each radio signal is fed to only one audio channel on the scanner, so both the road and yard action can be monitored via a single live feed, using the newest computer software configuration. And if you're damn lucky, you get to actually hear the very last words of the cab engineer right before his tragic death coming from a two-car train wreck right before the bridge, since the dispatcher warns of any on-coming trains..."

Woot frowned with annoyance. "You're mental sick, Cody."

"You're sexy, Woot!" Fern turned and winked at Woot.

Woot reached over and tugged the airborne level blowing the whistle on the train with a smile. "Toot!"

Hucks laughed. "Start your engines, Conductor Woot!"

Cody stood upright from the floor and spun around with a gasp to see Woot, "Yeehaw! Can I stay up here in the cab, Conductor Woot? I wanna listen to the radio dispatcher."

Woot reached down and pressed all the levers and buttons at the conductor station. "We all are staying up here inside the cab, since the Woot Toot executive car is off limits for seventeen years old children. Isn't that right, Hucks?"

"Cody is a minor teenager." Fern frowned.

Woot leaned out the window with a smile. "I don't see any additional railway tracks for extra runs of box cars or even one storage warehouse for shipping horse shit of cargo, only tons and tons of sweet smelling cedar and pine trees, filling my eyeballs with pretty green woodlands and the sweet sound of eagles eating doves. Sometimes, I see a herd of male bucks and female does grazing along the railings in the morning, when I speed to work," chuckling.

"Talk about avoiding all the vehicle traffic jams!" Cody spun around and moved ahead, leaning out the opposite window with a grin while feeling the cool breeze on a face.

Jon looked down and stared with a confused brow at the tiny screen of the mobile telephone. "The railway distance is extremely short. Is this correct, Woot?"

Woot enjoyed the cool breeze on a sweaty face with a smile. "Tell the good-hearted prince, Hucks!"

Hucks laughed. "The distance is three point seven miles coming from the anchored airplane hangar to the train station."

Jon reads out loud from the screen of the mobile telephone. "You can drive a car from your carport hanger going one mile on the Heart of Huntsville Drive and then turn right onto Clinton Avenue. Then, you drive for another two miles and then turn left, traveling .07 miles, stopping your vehicle inside the parking lot of the Von Brown Complex. Why in the hell would you bother steering with an expensive overpriced state-of-the-art satellite controlled piece of iron painted in puke green like human mouth vomit down a 3.7 miles of railway track that head toward the VBC?"

"I do it for my shit and giggles, prince," Woot laughed. "You need to learn now that Americans love to spend all the borrowed monetary funding that comes from the other foreign government treasure chest. Since, we had pissed all of our own monies down the shit toilet into the Mexico drug cartels while chasing away their invited friends, family, and foes off of the USA soil."

"So false, Woot!" Fern rocked the baby with a frown.

"So true, Woot!" Hucks frowned with disgust.

"How many minutes to travel 3.7 miles while track speeding at 25 miles per hour for us to get to the train depot?" Jon asked.

"Velocity equals distance which is divided by time. Therefore, time equals distance which is divided by velocity. Time equals 3.7 miles which is divided by 25 miles per hour equals 0.148 hours. Then, 0.148 of an hour times 60 minutes equal 8.88 minutes. Convert the .88 of a minute times 60 seconds equal .528 seconds. The answer is 8 minutes and 53 seconds," Hucks smiled.

"Or 25 miles divided by 60 minutes equal .416666 miles per minute. Next, 3.7 miles to travel is divided by .416666 miles per minute which equals 8.88 minutes. Then, you convert the .88 minutes by doing the math of .88 times 60 seconds which equals to .528 seconds. Finally, pair the minutes and seconds, you get 8 minutes, 53 seconds," Woot laughed.

"Or 25 miles an hour is driving or remote control steering a train one mile in 2.4 minutes or two minutes and 24 seconds. Then, 2.4 minutes per mile times 2.7 miles is 8.88 minutes or doing the conversions of seconds. It is 8 minutes and 53 seconds," Fern giggled down at the baby.

"You, yanks are all smart asses," Jon laughed.

"Many times over, Princess!" Woot turned and winked at Hucks.

Cody laughed with a hum. "Switcher 518 is rolling, rolling, rolling," he watched the flying birds and running squirrels that scattered away from the loud noise.

Woot smiled. "Use the rail engineer's term, Cody! We're traveling at a good clip with one single box car, running track speed..."

"I love this." Cody enjoyed the cool breeze on the face.

"Yeah! This is definitely a little boy's wet dream." Hucks chuckled with happiness that Cody was having a good time, after all the bad shit of the previous two years for the teen.

"It is the late afternoon around five-ten as the crew of Woot Toot on the 518 cruises northeast-bound towards the river bridge of Clinton Street. The final destination is on Von Brown Center train station," Woot shouted out loud with a smile.

Jon turned and stared out the window with a smile. "How fast does a train travel..."

"...to kill a man?" Hucks looked at the nose profile of Jon with a laugh. "Well, let's see! I've never calculated the math. So, the walking-speed of an average man when strutting like a turkey around his chicken farm is three miles per hour."

"At 45 miles-per-hour, the train is moving at 66 feet-per-second." Cody looked down and read out loud from the tiny screen of the mobile telephone still standing at the open window.

"A human doesn't explode like a firecracker but he or she might be torn open like gutting a bass fish. Have you ever gutted a pond fish, Your Hindiness?" Woot laughed.

Fern looked down with a smile and read out loud from the mobile telephone. "A human might die of blunt force trauma when getting bashed to death by the nose of the engine. Or if he goes underneath one of the wheels, then he gets his ass ground up into small bits of bass fish food on the stationary and non-movable iron tracks," she smiled at Jon.

Cody read out loud from the mobile telephone. "Here! It is. Based on last year, the US Federal Government reported documenting all fatalities on or around a single railroad track, where half of the deaths had occurred with the train which was going slower than five miles per hour. Wow!"

Hucks laughed. "Cody likes that word, wow, a lot for a seventeen-year-old."

Cody read out from the mobile telephone. "The government report cites some examples of railway deaths. Some folks get conked in the skull by a slow train when moving at human walking speed of three miles per hour. Some more reported deaths occur, when a passenger or a driver of a car drives at forty miles per hour into the side of a crawling train. Or when a smartass kid dashes underneath a stationary train by getting a skull crushed or an arm limb severed by the rolling metal and then bleeds out into death."

"That is a good permanent punishment for a stupid smartass kid!" Hucks laughed.

Cody read out loud from the screen of the mobile telephone. "Or a human gets killed while walking at three miles per hour along a single track of train in the bright sunlight for some fucking-ass crazy reason. Since, the gawd damn moving train doesn't give a shit, if you stand on the steel railing or near the steel railing. When the Mr. Train hits your ass, the smashed human becomes a cozy pillow cushion while at the same time accelerating the human speed equal to the train-moving speed. Then, the human goes from zero miles per hour to 25 miles per hour in a few milliseconds which is called delta-acceleration."

"Or jerk speed!" laughed Hucks.

Cody looked up to see Hucks with a smile. "That's brilliant, Hucks."

Hucks nodded with a grin. "Thanks, kindly!"

Cody looked down and read out loud from the tiny screen of the mobile telephone. "Delta-acceleration is the amount of time that passes while the velocity is changing too damn fucking fast, even for death," he laughed with the others.

"That's brilliant, Cody!" Hucks smiled. "A train injury is similar to an idiot who purposefully jumps off a four-story patio balcony. However, an idiot would never purposefully do that."

"A new posed question, how fast does a car travel to kill a man?" Fern smiled.

"Are you standing upright towards heaven or kneeling down to God, because you gonna need some healing power in either stance when a car hits your body?" Woot laughed.

Cody read out from the tiny screen of the mobile telephone. "Traveling less than five miles per hour, the impact of the car will cause lots of internal bleeding of your smashed biological organs like your heart or your pair of lungs with almost no exterior clinical signs of body injuries. And that kills a man, too."

"See? Cars kill, not people." Woot smiled.

"Gun kills, not assholes." Jon smiled.

Woot reached down and withdrew the hand pistol with a sneer, turning and aimed the cold barrel at the nose profile of the prince. Jon smirked. Hucks sneered. Woot grinned. "Do you wanna review my second amendment of the USA constitution, over there, buddy?"

"Assholes kill, not a gun or a car." Jon smiled at asshole Woot.

"That's a good saying, redneck prince!" Woot dropped the hand gun and slid it back down into the jacket with a chuckle.

"If you ride a sissy yellow colored banana seat bicycle at a top speed of ten miles per hour into a brick wall, then you multiply that force by a factor of number three plus the gross tonnage of a locomotive, which exceeds your body weight by 269,850 times. Since, a locomotive can move a fully loaded semi-tractor truck all the way towards the muddy banks of the Tennessee River by itself. Then, you add in the equation, a running engine moves with 1,000 horsepower and then the impact breaks the human skeleton bones into numerous tiny pieces of bones, even through the skin may not be broken. The body is a sack of marrow fragments that just sags and can be hard to pick up, when dead," Cody laughed down at the tiny screen of the mobile telephone.

Woot continued to pilot the train with a smile. "Or a semi-fast moving Woot Toot train traveling at 25 miles per hour will generate a large amount of energy to crush poor teen-ass Cody into smithereens, if Woot gets mad enough."

Hucks frowned. "Or hitting a jelly donut with a two-pound hammer, if you don't move the hammer very fast like 25 miles per hour, then you get red blood-colored jelly stains on your new pair of blue jeans, Woot."

Cody licked the lips with a laugh. "A jelly filled donut, I hungry."

"How fast does a bullet travel to kill a man?" Hucks smiled.

Cody smiled. "At 800 feet per second, it kills you deader than road kill."

"Toot!" Woot reached over and grabbed the level blowing the train whistle with a smile.

05:49 pm

VBC train station platform setting

Warm temperatures with shade rooftop

The train decelerated down from twenty-five miles per hour, when the engines automatically applied the brakes while rolling into a smooth silky stop at the empty concrete platform. Woot killed the engine and back stepped out from the conductor station with a smile, turning to face the closed door, moving ahead and stopped, sliding the door open. He climbed down and stood on top of the cool vanilla tinted concrete of the VBC train station platform. He frowned with puzzlement at an empty platform. "There isn't a welcoming party for us."

"Those are called terrorists," Hucks shoved Woot away from the slender doorway of the train and moved ahead with a stern face, surveying the empty platform also.

"I am pleased that we do not have an American welcoming party," Jon climbed down the stairs with a smile and followed behind the back spine of Hucks, moving ahead towards the single glass door that was guarded by two US military soldiers.

Woot moved ahead towards a single glass door on the platform of the train station. "We walk from here up to the second floor and then pose like a prince and then exit into the lobby of the Von Brown Center."

One of the uniformed US military guards saluted at the glass door to Woot, "Sir."

Woot nodded with a smile to the young soldier. "General Woot and his devoted soldiers are reporting for active duty, sir."

"You're going to get fired, General Woot." Fern followed behind Woot with the baby and a frown at her friend's bad military behavior.

Woot opened the glass door into the building for Fern and the baby and then entered behind her back spine into the lobby floor with a smile. "Who is the asshole that is going to fire lovely me, honey?"

"It is the US Federal Government, your boss, and me!" Hucks stood beside the side wall into the building with a sneer and then swiftly moved ahead, slamming and wrapped a set of arms around the back spine of Woot and growled into the eardrum of Woot. Fern moved ahead with the baby, Cody, and Jon, entering into the open carriage of the elevators on the far end of the hallway, out of eyesight and hearing range.

"I'm really pissing from fright onto the clean shiny tan tile, Hucks." Woot spun around with a chuckle to see his supervisor and friend with a smirk.

Hucks continued to stand in front of Woot with a sneer. "I want you to a good US soldier boy and not whistle or flirt with any of the pretty babes and show some more respect to Prince Jon. This is an American public affair with you, me, and Fern, representing the US military..."

"Now, I promise no whistling. That's just tacky." Woot laughed. The elevator doors opened without carrying Fern, Cody, and Jon.

Hucks tossed a palm into the chest of Woot and slammed, following his friend into the side concrete wall with a snarl into the eardrum. "I mean it. I want you to be a good Bama redneck right now."

Woot smirked into the frown of Hucks, "Stay calm, kids! Mama is just a little upset," he reached up and grabbed Hucks by the wrist, twisting and twirled his friend into the same wall slamming the back spine. Woot bad breathes down into the eardrum of Hucks. "What did you do, wife? Fuck the mailman!"

Hucks growled into the wall, "Son of a bitch! That will be the last damn time you catch me off guard. Now, get the fuck off me! Before, I demote your ass to down into a permanent military private," He pants with in fury. Woot continued bad breathing into the cheekbone on Hucks with a loud chuckle. Hucks slammed both palms into the wall and pushed backwards, slamming into the chest of Woot and shoving both of them into the middle of the floor. Woot back steeped with a laugh from Hucks. Hucks turned to face the elevators door and moved ahead with a huff of annoyance, reaching out to slap the button with fury.

They both entered the carriage in silence as Woot spun around with a smirk. Hucks wore a sour frown.

08:08 pm

Sunset with pinks, reds, blues, and greens and hot temperatures

Miss Lily Pageant

Center stage platform location

Back stage setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Cody and Hucks used both eyeballs and neurons standing and spying behind a set of dark tinted tall curtains, watching over each beauty contestant. The pageant show ended with no complications of a dead body or two which had occurred during the July pageant.

Woot was a good soldier and sat behind the panel of real judges between the head judge and Prince Jon, the guest star judge of the pageant. He spent half the night wiggling a pair of eyebrows with a flirting smile at the beauty contestant Ana. And the other half of the time, he leaned over and whispered her name into each eardrum of the other real pageant judges with an infamous growling threat, if she didn't win the Miss Lily Pageant title, tiara, and trophy.

Finally, the winner was named Ana, the newly crowned Miss Lily Pageant winner.

Sunday September 5th

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

VBC interior room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

This was a day of rest for the pageant losers, who each went back to their native State by airplane. Cody spent the day in Huntsville with Hucks and Fern with the baby at their residential home.

The pageant winner Ana took hundreds of publicity photographs inside interior and exterior rooms within the VBC, wearing an array of short and long colored outfits ranging from numerous swimming suits to evening gowns to sundresses to walking shorts in front of the smile of Woot. Woot had been a good soldier using his eyeballs and his neurons while smiling at Ana as her personal guard protector. After the photo shoot ended, Woot went to dinner with Ana and a team of beauty pageant people.

The team had lunch, supper, dinner, and evening drinks with all the pageant representatives, discussing the publicity agenda of Ana, who was the new Miss Lily Pageant Queen.

Monday September 6th (Labor Day holiday)

City of Huntsville

(Five miles west of VBC)

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

08:08 am

Rolland's Car Dealership location

Lobby entrance setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Woot, Fern, Hucks, and Cody stood in a huddle in front of the new model sports car inside the air conditioned lobby space of the car dealership. Hucks reached out and tugged on the new sports jacket on Woot with a confused brow. "I ordered you to wear a pair of green tinted military clothes that matches my body for both show and might."

Woot reached down and slapped the hand of Hucks with a smile. "I picked out my nicest sports jacket for both show and presentation. I'm escorting Ana around..."

"Naw!" Hucks frowned with annoyance and shook a cropped red skull. "Cody is the official escort and body guard for Ana. He is the show man. You are the mighty muscles, Woot."

Woot looked down and mouth spat onto the shiny pair of military boots on Hucks while missing accidentally, looking up with a sour frown to see Cody. "I go with the newly crowned young adult Miss Lily Pageant winner of the USA. I'm one of the real judges. He is a teen-ass child. He acts like a teen-ass child and looks like a teen-ass child, Hucks."

Hucks grinned. "Cody is handsome and young when he is compared to you, old man. The rich owner of the car dealership wants Cody to escort the pretty beauty queen and the other beauty queen around the new cars." he laughed with Fern.

Woot frowned. "What other beauty queen?"

"The other beauty queen is his Hindiness, Princess!" Hucks frowned.

Woot smiled, "O yeah! That's my ingenious nickname for Jon. He didn't mind."

Hucks scooted into the face of Woot with a sneer. "I do mind. You don't escort Ana. Cody does. You don't talk. I do. You don't stand here. Fern does stand here. You go and hide behind curtain number two in the rear of the sports car. Your orders come from your superior, solider!"

Woot frowned, "Fine! I will hide behind the curtain, playing on the cell phone and other protruded parts of my body for fun and pleasure, so don't bother me."

Hucks shoved Woot backwards towards the car and stood in place to see Woot. Woot slowly shuffled backwards and moved behind a set of tall, wide, dark tinted curtains with a soft sneer. Hucks slapped a hand on the chest with a smile at a hidden Woot and a smiling Cody. "We all stay and stand here behind the curtains and out of sight, of the crowd, and out of the way of all the television reporters. Cody, go and stand with Jon. Ana will be coming out of her dressing trailer in a few seconds. The pageant people had to adjust her crown or makeup or pretty something else on her."

"Yes sir," Cody spun around with a smile and moved ahead towards Jon, stopping and stood next to the prince, leaning over with a set of whispered words and a grin.

Hucks moved ahead and shuffled around the curtains, standing beside Woot and Fern, whipping out the switchblade, exposing the silver blade and sliced a short diagonal slant into the dark soft curtain while eyeballing the back spine of Cody and Ana. Hucks didn't care about Jon. Woot, Hucks, Fern, and Cody had been assigned as a row of personal bodyguards for Ana, who was the newly crowned Miss Lily with the hope of capturing Brone, both alive and well. The new team had hoped that Brone would try to murder the newly crown queen and then Brone would be killed instead by the team of USA warriors.

The media reporter was an average height and average weight female with a head of short brown colored hair, a pair of green eyes, and a tone of dark tinted skin. She reached and pressed down all the fuzzy hair strands from the outside wind storm, reaching down and grabbed the microphone from her television assistant with a stern face, moving ahead and stopped between car owner Rolland and handsome Prince Jon. She turned and reached out, grabbing and cupped the arm of Jon with a smile, holding the live microphone to the smiling lips. "We are almost live, gentlemen! Please smile and look into the camera lens in front of us. I will conduct the entire show selling all the cars for Rolland and eating lunch with Jon. We can go from here after the show and dine at my favorite Japanese restaurant which is down the street, Jon." She winked at Jon and turned with a smile to see camera lens. "Hello, America! I'm here at the Rolland Car Dealership in Huntsville, where the newest and coolest and hottest sports car comes directly from the country of England along with the coolest and hottest prince of the land. Prince Jon, who stands beside me, has graciously offered to drive me around the smoothly paved roadways of Huntsville with the ragtop down while blowing my hair in the cool breeze..."

The glass from the frontal wall inside the lobby space of the car dealership exploded and then cracked open. The glass shattered and sounded with a set of tiny pings and then dropped down, covering the entire floor and the skulls of each television camera crew member. Each crew member turned with a scream and ran ahead, leaping over the mess of broken glass, dashing outside in both shock and terror.

Cody continued to stand beside Ana and stared with an open mouth at the shocking event.

A group of golden bodies with a matching helmet ran across the exterior parking lot and leaped into the air, jumping over the mess of glass fragments and landed inside the lobby space while slamming into the new cars. Then the three golden bodies advanced and reached out, grabbing the arm of Ana, Cody, and finally Jon. Each one drew in and cuddled a captive, rapidly shuffling backwards towards the closest sports car, shooting a gun with a set of live ammunition at all the upright bodies.

Each golden body killed in cold blood the car owner Rolland, most of the car dealership employees, and some the invited local guests, who continue to stand in shock and death inside the dealership lobby floor. The non-dead invited guests, the limited media television people, the numerous newspaper media people turned tail and screamed in terror, racing through the open entrance doors, running away from the car dealership lobby and into the hot sunshine for safety.

Fern reached out and grabbing, jerking each an arm on Woot and Hucks, moving away from the tall curtains into the lower hallway. Fern had memorized the layout of the car dealership on electronic computer before attending the publicity event of the first photographic shooting of the Miss Lily Pageant as precaution like a good military soldier. She spun around with a sneer and led them down a narrow hallway, stopping in front of hidden doorway within the side way. Hucks and Woot stopped behind her ass and watched her motions. She felt down the wall and located the hidden seamed of a hidden flush door with a pair of naked fingertips, slamming the metal of the hunting knife with a folded fist. Then, the secret door cracked open. She reached out and jerked the door open, moving ahead, climbing up a set of narrow steps inside a dark enclosed passageway. Hucks and Woot immediately followed her up the stairs.

Lobby floor setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Ana was blinded over both eyelashes by the dark cloth with a set of rouge rope on a pair of tied wrist bones in front of the chest. She couldn't see but felt the jumpsuit fabric on the golden body next to her side. Both of them stood in silence front of an exposed glass window wall frame as rows of local police officers stood in silence and watched the horror inside the car dealership lobby without acting in hopes of not harming the hostages.

Golden body number two held a gun inside the eardrum of Jon and faced the glass window, smiling at the row of local police officers. Jon wore a pair of tied wrist bones behind a back spine without a blind folded, so each television camera could see his frightened facial expression.

Golden body number three stood between Cody and Ana. Cody was not blind folded but struggled with a set of tight ropes on both wrist bones behind a back spine. His kidnapper smiled inside the helmet with a sneer, motioning a hand to the reporters. "Come here, little television reporters! Take all your pictures, newspaper photographers! Before, we blow Prince Jon up towards the new kingdom of God..."

Golden body number one reached out and rattled the ropes on the wrist bones of Ana, shouting out loud into the gathered crowd of police, media television reporters, and nosy on-lookers, within the gathering crowd of Americans. "We demand a ransom of fifty million dollars in Euros, not the lousy US dollars for Prince Jon and his lady fair. Or we execute them on live television for our fun entertainment, ya'll. I like visiting here in the South with all your funny sayings, ya'll." He laughed with the other kidnappers.

4th floor level location

Observation lounge setting

Man-made cold air temperatures without light bulbs

Each US military soldier swiftly dashed ahead and stopped, dropping down a long body in front of the row of glass windows, resting on top of the dirty tile floor, aiming a cold hand gun barrel sight at each rear helmet of each golden body that held Ana, Jon, and Cody.

Fern rested between Woot and Hucks on a stomach and aimed a cold gun barrel on the rear golden helmet of number two that stood beside Jon.

Hucks aimed a gun barrel at on the rear golden helmet number three that stood next to Cody.

Fern whispered. "Ready!"

Woot aimed a cold gun barrel on the rear golden helmet of number one that stood beside his girl Ana with a smirk. "Which bandit is mine?"

Hucks sneered. "The one is on the extreme right and next to Ana, who is hurting her arm. Do not hit Ana, Woot!"

Woot smirked. "I won't."

Fern whispered. "Set!"

Woot smiled. "Can I take out the one on the left of Ana too?"

Hucks smirked. "Naw! He is my kill shot."

"Shoot," Fern held the breath and pressed the trigger on the hand gun. Woot took in a breath and held all the air molecules, pressing the trigger.

Three individual bullets sounded with a whamp coming from three individual hand gun barrels, breaking through the glass window on the fourth floor, directly hitting into a back spine of each golden body on the lobby floor. Each bullet traveled through an upright body and hit the heart organ, carrying both the bullet and the heart organ out through the chest, soaring through the air waves, and then landed down on the clean floor in a bloody splat with a soft thud onto the lobby floor. Then, each golden body slowly swayed side to side in both shock and surprise, releasing out a set of ugly sprays of red blood proteins into the air waves and near the hostage.

On the lobby floor, Ana slowly back pedaled with a loud scream in blinded fear, after hearing the whamping sound of the single bullet, smelling the fresh blood coming from the kidnapper.

Cody reached over and smashed an elbow into the rib cage of his captive. The captive tumbled to the side and dropped down over the floor in death. He reached over and grabbed the tied wrist bones of Ana, back stepping away from all the dead bodies, hitting the side of new sports car. Then, he and Ana scooted around the new car and continued to back step from the dead bodies and the action.

Jon side stepped from the dead body with a chuckle and stood in a stationary pose with a grin while watching the nasty killing action. His kidnapper stumbled forward and dropped down, landing on the floor on a face into the glass fragments in death also.

Cody continued to back step with Ana and moved further away from the spraying blood, the spilled guts, floor of broken glass, the buzzing television camera lenses, and the dead captives, slamming a pair of legs into the office desk and stopped with Ana.

The television crew continued to roll the film and record all the deaths and sprays of red blood. Each television reporter jumped through the broken glass and rushed ahead over the messy floor, stopping and stood in front Jon. Jon pointed each dead body with a smile and a nod into the camera lenses. "I am so grateful..."

Woot rushed down the staircases and out the secret room, scooting around the curtains, reaching towards Ana and stopped, reaching out and pulled her from Cody into a chest with a smile. "I'm Woot. I'm the judge that answered your Japanese romance question during the interview process of the Miss Lily pageant. And I watched you model all your outfits yesterday inside the VBC. And I watched you eat the lunch, the suppertime, the dinnertime meals..."

Ana continued to pant and puff with fright between his biceps and stared at the action of Jon and the television reporters, "Woot!" Woot reached down and gently removed the blindfold from her pretty eyes with a wicked smile in silence. She continued to gasp with fright and scanned the messy bloody floor and the broken window, "Woot!"

Woot tossed away the fabric as it floated in the air and then landed on the floor. He didn't bother to cut off the ropes that bounded her wrist bones, "Hey, princess!"

Ana spun around from Jon with a confused brow and then smiled at Woot. He had been one of the judges from the Miss Lily pageant. She exhaled with a puff of nervousness while calming a beating heart and a racing mind, "Woot! Woot!"

Woot nodded with a chuckle. "You are one cool lady being able to remember my name during all this fucking shit."

"Woot!" She gasped with pant.

"I saved your life, darling." Woot smiled.

"Please untie the rope, Woot. The ropes are hurting my wrist bones." She stretched out the tight ropes side to side while cutting into the naked wrists with a sigh.

Woot continued to smile at her. "Naw! I like you all tied up for me, sugar. Then, I can have my way with you, until you yell out for..."

He with his wife Fern dashed away from the tall curtains with a sneer at the back spine of his friend. "Woot," Hucks scooted around Woot and stopped, reaching out and pulled Ana away from Woot. Then, Fern reached out with a smile and cut off the ropes from the naked wrist bones of Ana.

Cody moved ahead from the office desk and the huddle of his new friends with a sigh and shook a bald head, stopping and stood over two of the dead golden bodies on top of the bloody and messy floor. He looked up with a puzzled brow and scanned the rest of the dead bodies on top of the floor, a lobby of cars plus his friends, and then rows of nosy on-lookers that lounged outside in the hot sunshine. He moved ahead with a sigh and strolled over the parking lot and between the rows of new cars, searching for more golden bodies within the crowd. A pair of golden tinted gloves reached out and grabbed the collar bone of Cody. Cody ducked down to the side of the heated body and spun around with a gasp, rearing back, punching a fist forward at the new enemy of golden hue, when a forward golden tinted glove hit into the cheekbone of Cody. Cody stumbled backwards with a gasp. A second golden hand reached out and captured Cody by the arm. Cody tumbled forward into a wall of hard body armor of gold on the chest of the new enemy. Then, the fourth golden body squatted down and lifted up, tossing an unconscious Cody onto a collar bone, swiftly running ahead in front of each television camera lenses and the rows of the local police officers.

Inside the lobby floor, Woot smiled down at Ana, when an acute eyeball spotted the moving commotion outside the building inside a parking lot of parked cars, looking up with a gasp. Cody wore a pair of green tinted fatigues like Fern and Hucks, resting on top of a collar bone of a fourth golden body. The golden body was dashing through the car dealership with Cody. "Fuck!" Woot tossed both arms into the air with a shout out. "Hey! Stop him! Trip that guy!" He dashed ahead and jumped through the glass opening with a sneer, running after Cody for a rescue. "Damn! Damn! Damn! Stop him! Someone trip that asshole. Someone get Cody!"

Hucks and Fern raced ahead behind Woot. Fern stopped and jerked out a pair of binoculars into a face from the survival backpack on the back, standing on top of the parking lot. Cody was being toted over the shoulder of a fourth healthy and alive golden body trotting towards a non-descript black tinted window car. She exhaled with worry and dropped down the binoculars with a sneer. "Shit!"

Hucks raced ahead and pulled out the gun but needed to get closer to kill the kidnapper or he would harm Cody. He shouted out loud. "Cody, fight him! Stop that masked-man! Cody needs our help!"

Woot stopped and huffed out tons of air molecules. Hucks stopped beside Woot with a sour frown. The golden body stopped and loaded Cody into the rear seat of a black sedan, climbing into the passenger side. Then the car raced away from the city street and disappeared down the roadway. Hucks sneered at the rear bumper of the black sedan. "We were too late, but we'll get him back. I promise you that."

Fern raced ahead and stopped, standing between the men. "Call the president right now, Hucks!"

Car dealership parking lot setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Jon carefully moved ahead with Ana and stepped through the mess of broken glass fragment over the floor. They both slowly strolled outside over the building pavement and stopped in front of Woot, Fern, and Husks. Jon looked up with a smile and signaled the object with a hand wave. Woot frowned with puzzlement at the updraft of wind above the skull and looked up with a gasp at the object in the sky. Two helicopters flew in the skyline coming from the direction of east and west, paralleling each other in the air and halted, hovering directly over the car dealership parking lot of cars. The machines hovered over Jon, Woot, Fern, Hucks and Ana also.

A set of four vertical ropes dropped down and landed on top of the gray pavement and surrounded Jon. A group of four black tinted bodies of armor with a matching helmet rappelled down each side of the two helicopters, landing on the pavement, surrounding Woot, Hucks, Fern, Ana, and Jon.

Jon twirled a finger near a smile with a chuckle. Each black body pulled out from a side pocket and lifted up, draping a blue cape on top of Woot, Hucks, Fern, and Ana. Then, each black body wrapped a piece of rope around the cape which pinned both set of arms and hands on Woot, Hucks, Fern, and Ana. Jon snapped the finger with chuckle. Each black body wrapped a set of arms around each blue cape that held an American citizen.

Woot struggled inside the cape and with the black body of a disguised tall male with a sneer. "Hey! I don't wear female silk bathrobes ever."

Hucks fought with the cape and the black body of a disguised tall male with a snarl. "I hope you guys got some good British hospital insurance, because I'm going to beat the holy shitty crap out of each ass that has touched a US military solider, including me, her, and him."

Fern slammed both hands into the cape without removing the fabric and fought with the black body of a disguised tall male with a growl. "Jon, you are fucking dead by my hunting knife which located inside my boot. I just need to loosen of the cape and one of my killing hands. Then, you are dead, boy," sneering.

Jon twirled the finger with a smirk. Each black body on set of rappelling ropes sailed up towards the metal belly and landed on top of the lip of the helicopter floor, moving inside the cabin of the transport. Each helicopter steered ahead towards a private airport that was known only to Jon.

First helicopter location

Parking lot setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

with four miles per hour winds

Jon continued to stand on top of the heated pavement in the parking of cars and looked up with a smile. Each flying pilot was lifting off on its own flight plan through the air waves. He snapped the fingers with a chuckle. A single rope dropped down and dangled in front of his smile. He reached out and grabbed the rope, lifting a single foot and slapped down onto a short stirrup, hitching a ride by vertical rope up towards the cabin of the helicopter. The rope swiftly sailed up into the skyline. He twirled around and n stopped on the rope, floating outside the lip of the floor, when the arm of a fifth black body reached out and pulled Jon into the cabin. Jon stared with a smile at Woot, Hucks, and Fern, who were each roped and sat on top of a long bench seat in a row.

Woot, Hucks, and Fern, each wore a helmet that contained a built-in microphone for vocal communication and audio listening and also showed a distorted sneer at Jon.

Jon wobbled ahead over the floor and stopped, sitting down on the opposite bench between four black bodies, lifting up and tapped onto the helmet, saying with a smile into the microphone. "Tell me about Cody!"

Woot continued to sit with a pair of tied wrist bones behind the back spine with a smirk at Jon into the helmet microphone, "Hmm! I have blood type AB. Did you know that people with that particular blood type always forgets about all kinds of stuff? So, what is your name, again, princess? So, what is your question, again, bitch?"

Hucks sneered into the helmet microphone. "You harm my wife. I'll rip out your eyeballs and stuff them organs up your ass, boy."

Jon turned with a smile to see Fern and said into the helmet microphone. "I know that Fern is your wife. But she accompanies you on a dangerous military assignment."

Fern snarled through the helmet microphone. "And if you harm my husband, then I will lovingly rip off your dick and fed it down your throat, sir."

Jon smirked into the helmet microphone. "Ah! Hucks accompanies his wife on each dangerous military assignment protecting his ass. I hope to marry a girl like you, Fern, one day. And I do not plan to harm anyone here or later. I am worried about Cody too. I want to know about Cody also."

Woot frowned into the helmet microphone. "Cody is seventeen years old, a genius and a minor kid, based on an adult standard here in the USA. What is your nasty interest in a teen-ass from the great State of Alabama? He's a farm boy with both guts and smarts, who happens to be..."

"That is my posed question too, Woot," Jon smiled into the helmet microphone. "Why is a minor kid hanging around with a top secret military unit here in the State of Alabama?"

Fern frowned. "He is in danger."

Woot laughed. "Forget Cody! I'm in danger here."

Hucks laughed. "Forget all of ya'll! Jon is in very serious danger, after I damage his heart," sneering into the microphone.

Jon exhaled with a huff of frustration into the helmet microphone. "I will share first. I possess the Jesus Strand." A set of mouth drop open and then close on each American in silence. He nodded with a smile. "Yes. It is true. And I am searching for more people like me and Cody to offer both protection and safety. I am very concerned about his health too, since there are other factions who are not really worried about Cody's vital health. Who were the golden tinted attackers that killed those people at the car dealership, today?"

"We don't care," Hucks sneered into the helmet microphone, since he didn't know or trust the prince but he did know about the silly concept of the Jesus Strand.

"We don't know." Fern exhaled with a worried brow.

"We don't know you either," Woot frowns with suspicion.

He reached down and pulled out a mobile telephone from the sporting coat with a smile and pressed the famous and familiar electronic icon, lifting the phone to the face, hearing the immediate female voice. "This is Prince Jon. Please connect me to the President of the United States right now! Thank you so much, ma'am!"

He paused and listened to the voice of the president of the United States on the other end of the mobile telephone.

"Cody has been taken."

Pause.

"I concur with your wise decision, Mr. President," he dropped the phone down into the lap and smiled at each American. "Your mission parameter has been changed by your boss, the President of the United States. You have been ordered to find and capture the kidnapper and then protect Cody at all costs. Cody is priority here. Cody is one of very few identified persons, who possess the Jesus Strand also."

Fern narrowed the eyelashes with sneer into the helmet microphone. "That means nothing to me. What does it mean to you, princess?"

Jon grinned. "It means too much. I'm flying you home for a change of clothing and then to a private airport on the outskirts of Huntsville. We all will board my private business jet and fly back to England. We are all going to report to my brother our predicament..."

"That word has a very familiar ring tone to my ears," Hucks whispered for his eardrums only with a worried brow at Jon.
Monday September 6th

City of London within the country of England

(4,386 miles, northeast, from USA State of Alabama)

Cool temperatures with dark clouds, slight rain mist

with four miles per hour winds and 65% humidity

05:05 pm (London time)

Royal castle setting of King Jack and Queen Jill

Banquet room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures without light bulbs

The private business jet landed safely at the private airport. Jon led Woot, Ana, Hucks, and Fern down the ladder and into a black colored limousine. The limousine arrived safely at the royal castle. At the London royal castle, there was a crowd of people standing outside the iron gates, cheering for Prince Jon. Inside the banquet room of the castle, Woot, Ana, Hucks, and Fern attended a lunch event for Prince Jon.

The Queen of England had gifted Woot, Hucks, and Fern with a semi-royal British title and a short British speech for saving the life of her son Prince Jon in the USA during a surprise bloody terrorist attack on American soil.

Fern turned and smiled down at the hair roots of Hucks, who held their infant son. She stood on top of a short podium with a smile of happiness and shock, seeing an audience and each television camera lenses, saying a few words to the world. "Hello to the world! Thanks for this wonderful banquet food and royal title, to boot! I would like to say as an American mom, let us work together to end world hungry," she clapped with the others. "As a US military solider, let us have peace on earth and good will towards others," she clapped with the others again. "Thank you, world!" She back stepped and moved off the platform, swiftly dashing back to her husband and her child with a smile.

Hucks slowly stood upright from the chair with the baby and leaned over, kissing and hugged Fern, pulling back with a wink, handing her the baby. Fern cuddled her son and sat down with the assistance of Hucks into the dining room chair, watching the remaining speeches. Hucks sat back down next to her and faced the podium to hear the rest of the speeches also with a smile.

King Jack was a tall and slender male with a tone of pale tinted skin, a head of blonde colored hair, and a pair of blue eyes. He pointed down to the next person at the royal eating table with a British stern face. "Sir Hucks, would you like to give the world some good advice this afternoon?"

Hucks swiftly stood upright from the chair with a chuckle and a nod, moving ahead and stood in front of the microphone, slapping both hands on the podium. The microphone recorded the blasting sound. He smiled into the crowd of people and the rolling camera lenses of the world. "Thanks kindly, folks! I got two things to say to ya'll," he turned and smiled at the nose profile of Jack. "Is my wife a princess now?" The audience members sounded with a set of soft claps and soft laughter.

"No, Sir Hucks!" Jack shook a crowned skull with a stern face.

Hucks exhaled with a nod of disappointment and shook a skull with a sour frown. "Okay," he turned and growled at the nose profile of Jon. "Dude, where in the hell is my American beer that you promised me for saving your sorry ass, this morning in Alabama?" The audience members sounded with a set of soft claps and soft laughter.

"One American beer is coming up for my savior Hucks," Jon scooted out from the chair with a smile and spun around to whisper into the face of three new bodyguards. One of the body guards leaned forward with a grin and presented a tumbler of sweaty brew in the air towards Hucks.

Hucks nodded with a smile and turned to see the audience. "Thanks to the world for all kinds of stuff, especially my loving wife Fern and our precious son!" He back stepped from the microphone and moved ahead, stopping, reaching out and snatched up the beer and sipped, swallowing the cold beer with a loud burp. He spun around with a smile and sat back down next to Fern with a chuckle, leaning over and patting the hair of the baby.

Jack moved ahead and stood in front of the podium, waving a hand to the audience. "I order a brew of beer for everyone too. Sir Woot, would you like to convey any words to the world?"

Woot stood upright from the chair and dashed ahead, standing on top of the short platform, wiggling side to side with nervousness. He slammed both sweaty palms onto the wood as the microphone recorded the blasting sound. He chuckled with a grin at the audience. "Hi, ya'll!" He turned and winked at Ana. "I love you, Ana. Please marry me today anywhere in London," he lifted up and presented a shiny diamond ring for all eyeballs and the television camera lenses with a chuckle.

"Yes." Ana stood upright from the chair with a scream and dashed ahead, pulling up beside Woot with a giggle and a grin.

Woot leaned over with a grunt into her face as she giggled. He pulled back with a smile and knelt down on one kneecap, presenting the ring into her smile. The television camera lenses rolled the film and as all the flash bulbs blinded each eyeball. He smiled. "Please, accept this small precious token that always reminds you of my unending love and high respect as my bride soonest and then my wife foreverly. I promise my eternal love and to drop the toilet seat down, after pissing. Once a redneck, always a redneck, ya'll!" He chuckled with a wink at her.

Ana smiled down into the green eyeballs of Woot, "I accept in becoming a redneck princess to my Bama prince," she dropped down on both kneecaps equaling their bodies, feeling both excitement and nervousness of getting married to the handsome soldier. Woot slid the ring over her finger with a chuckle. The audience members sounded with a set of soft claps and soft moans. They leaned over and kissed, pulling back with a goofy grin at each other.

Woot stood upright from the floor first and leaned down, assisting Ana into a chest cuddle with him as they both waved a hand and a smile to the audience and each camera lenses like an American prince and princess. He leaned down into the microphone with a growl. "To all the men and all the lesbians of the world, the doll is mine with three fucking ass exclamation points." The audience member sounded with a set of claps, hoots, and cheers throughout the banquet room. Woot back stepped with Ana from the podium and twisted them towards a pair of chairs on the long royal eating table beside Hucks and Fern.

Jack moved ahead and stood in front of the microphone with a clap and a smile. "Congratulations, to the newly engaged happy couple and the soon-to-be future groom and bride! And the royal chapel is available for the afternoon and the evening hours today. Now, I would like to introduce my princely brother Jon." He turned and clapped with a smile for his brother.

Jon scooted back the chair and stood upright with a hand, moving towards the platform, standing in front the microphone, slamming both hands over the podium like the two other Bama rednecks. He nodded with a smile at the audience. "Thank you! Now, I'm required to say a few brilliant sentences, after Woot's unforgettable earth-shuttering love bird moment. To Woot and Ana, my best wishes and forever respect! To the world, I was prevue to their secret first," he clapped with a smile at Ana. Jon frowns with worry, viewing the audience, says. "To the ladies and gentlemen of the world, I am here, because of my new friends Woot, Hucks, and Fern. I stood next to terror. I stood beside a gun at my temple with both of my hands tied behind a waist. I stood slumped in fright like a newborn kitten looking for my mum on the worsest moment in my short years of life. Then, I saw a miracle, over there. I saw the good guys win, over there. Then, I saw the bad villains lose, over there. Then, I saw the sunrise the next day here, since I was alive. I had survived there. I hadn't pooped inside my white lace girly panties as these Southerns like to say. Isn't that right, Woot?" Woot gave a thumb-up sign with a nod.

Jon chuckled. "I am making those silly and fun remarks, because I can. I am here with my new friends and I will fight and defeat our newest enemy called terror. Woot, Hucks, and Fern will partner with a special international terrorism division located here in London. I really can't tattle tale anymore of our secrets, since the bad guys are closely listening to the tele. I would like to say a welcome to our American cousins and their new home, where we shall all work together to overcome and conquer the evil out of our homes and our hearts while finding finally only peace and love," he clapped with a nod and a smile with the audience.

06:06 pm

Royal castle drawing room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures without light bulbs

Woot, Hucks, Ana, and Fern, they stood in a huddle with a set of whispers inside the banquet room, after the quickie marriage of Woot and Ana inside the banquet room by a local London priest. They watched the castle servants and guests leave the banquet room.

The female entered the room and hugged a pink blanket with a stern face, stopping and stood in front of the huddle. Woot looked down with a laugh at the objects on the new female. "I wanna compliment your set of puke green colored nails, Queen Jill. For my new wife, do not come home wearing those fugly ugly things," he chuckled with Hucks.

Ana reached over and slapped his bicep with a frown of annoyance. "For my new husband, those are the latest trend in nail coloring..."

"...for a blind man," Woot laughed out loud and leaned over, hugging his new wife.

Jill was a tall and slender female with a head of long blonde hair, a tone of pale tinted skin, a pair of green eyeballs, wearing a white blouse, a short skirt, and a pair of sandals. She stared with an icy face, since a Brit never smiled. She cuddled the pink blanket near the breast in a British accent. "I would like to express once more our deep gratitude for saving our brother Jon. He would be dearly missed, if the delicate and deadly situation had been far opposite. It is customary to provide a gift for our visitors, our new friends. This is an English lap dog puppy for Fern and her new baby boy coming from your English neighbors who live across the sea." She removed the top of the pink blanket and revealed a tiny newborn puppy, extending the blanket to Fern with a nod.

Fern handed her son to Hucks and stared with a puzzled brow down at pink blanket, reaching out and accepted the puppy. Then she turned to the side and exchanged the puppy back for her son with Hucks. Hucks accepted and patted the skull of the tiny puppy with a chuckle.

Jill said with a British stern face. "The puppy is a little girl to compliment your son. I am very pleased that all of you are part of our very exclusive social club," she spun around and moved ahead towards the open elevator, entering the carriage. Jack, Jon, Woot, Fern, and Hucks followed behind her, spinning around to face the closing doors. Jill reached over and gently grabbed her infant baby from her husband Jack, standing next to Fern with a smile. "Fern, you are welcome to leave your son with my daughter inside the Ward for the afternoon while we finish conducting our business meeting for the evening." The elevator stopped. Then, the doors opened. Jill stepped off the carriage and moved ahead over the floor with a stern face.

Fern pulled the blue colored doggie pattern hoodie over the bald skull of her son and cuddled him into her breasts with a worried brow, not moving ahead and stared down at row of lights that were embedded onto the hard surface. Hucks reached over and gently nudged her elbow with a smile. She frowned with suspicion and slowly moved ahead over the floor, turning to scan the walls and the individual glass of rooms. "What is a ward?"

Jill led down a set of two pink and blue painted walls showing an assortment of hand drawn colorful wildlife baby animals with a stern face. "This is the Ward, where all the babies are housed..."

Ana remembered reading about the famous royal palace on the jet flight and moved beside Woot with a puzzled brow, turning to stare at the walls of glass also. "I didn't know that the royal palace provided a hospital ward inside the castle. Why is a room of sick babies located here within the castle walls? What's wrong with the little babies?" She stopped and stood at the glass window, staring inside an individual room, where an infant rested inside a pink colored baby crib. Jon, Jack, and Jill halted with a gasp and spun around with a stern f ace to see Ana.

Jill stared with an icy glaze at Fern with a stern face. "This is the ward, not a hospital of sick children. These children are not sick with an illness. They are very, very happy and very, very healthy, without any type of infection. I do..."

"Jill!" Jack reached over and gently patted the arm of Jill with a smile to each American "I believe there is a language misinterpretation here. The Middle English word 'ward' means keeper or watchman or guard or guardian or protector or lord of all the children. This is a children's nursery which is located within the bowels of castle palace for all the working staff employees. We have a set of living staff in the castle that work twenty-four hours, every day and night. Their children are housed here while they work during the daylight and nighttime hours and then come and collect their baby at the end of their shift."

Jon nodded with a grin, "Quite good!"

Fern stood in place and rocked the baby back and forth with a smile. "All American companies do the same thing, such like, a working hospital or a larger business corporation. This is a nice touch for your palace workers."

Ana gasped, "O. I'm so sorry. The layout of the royal hallway and the individual rooms suggest to me..." she grinned. "Never thee mind," giggling.

Woot leaned over and cuddled Ana, kissing her cheekbone, pulling back with a set of whispered words into her face.

Jill rocked the baby back and forth with a stern face. "The royal palace does not provide a hospital ward with state of the art medical equipment for our employees, when their child is sick. The employees can leave work and visit the local hospital down the street. This Ward is off limits of course to any staff member without a child, where all the working and living staff members are confided here during the day and the night, while servicing the castle property."

Jon smiled. "To add to our royal duty, the royal palace employs the largest selection of orphaned teenagers and adults coming from other nations throughout the world. We provide to them shelter, food, and employment here in England while helping them to build a proper life and a new family environment."

Ana smiled. "O. That's very nice too!"

Fern looked down with a smile at face of her sleeping son. "Thank you for your offer of the Ward. My motherly response is a loving no. I will attend to my son during our late evening business meeting. If he becomes fussy, then I will leave the business meeting and return back to our shared chamber suite. Thank you for the lovely invitation into the Ward! But, I wholehearted decline," Hucks leaned over with a nod and cuddled his family, staring with a smile in silence at the royals.

Jack reached over and patted the arm of Jill with a smile. "Jill, we can provide two individual baby cribs inside the drawing room which is prettier than the plain conference room. Each baby will receive a crib for nappy time, after feeding and then both babes can stay with us throughout the entire business conduct. Is that a better solution for our international encounter today?"

Fern exhaled with disappointment at the new ideas. She really wanted to stay and wait inside the royal sleeping suite. Hucks nodded with a grin to Jack. "Yeah! That's a fine and dandy arrangement for us too. We can both keep any eyeball on the baby, Fern. After he wakes from his nappy time, then I can babysit my son next. I love being a new daddy."

Jack grinned with a nod. "This is an excellent compromise for all us, Hucks! Jon shall lead towards your chamber suit for refreshing, while I prepare and arrange the drawing room for our business meeting the evening." He reached down and pulled out the mobile telephone, tapping on the electronic icon. "I will inform the staff to update the drawing room with all the required accouterments, before our arrival. It will only take a few minutes."

Jon turned to the side and moved ahead towards a tall staircase with a grin. "Come this way please! I have placed you along the row of northern suites, since you hail from the continent of North America," he led up the staircase.

Woot turned to face the staircase and cuddled Ana with a laugh, following behind Jon. "I wanna a southern room, since I'm a Southern rouge. Hucks is the Yankee doodle boy today, so give him one of the northern royal sleeping chamber, sir."

4th floor level

Shared chamber suite setting

Woot, Ana, Fern, and Hucks

Man-made cold air temperatures without light bulbs

Jon stopped and stood beside the doorway without pointing with a smile. "This is a shared sleeping suite for my two set of American friends. Enjoy the room! I will return within thirty minutes for our meeting downstairs inside the drawing room," he spun around and quickly moved ahead, racing down the staircase in silence.

Woot moved ahead and reached out, shoving the door open with a smile, strolling inside and stopped a few feet from the archway with a smile. He twirled around in a completely circle and stopped with a smile, moving ahead towards a row of chairs in front of the gigantic television plasma, sitting down and reached out, fiddling with the remote control devise with a chuckle.

Fern entered into the room and turned to face the bedroom, strolling ahead to change a set of dirty baby diapers.

Ana entered inside the room and stopped, turning to stare into the wall mirror inside the foyer while tapping on the lip. "Did you notice that Queen Jill has an ugly canker sore on her top lip? She had covered the canker sore really well with the expensive makeup, but I still recognized it."

Woot reached down and pulled out the mobile telephone, without seeing a new text message. "Almighty God says in the Good Book not to judge your friends, darling."

Ana continued to stare into the mirror. "It is a common observation. A canker sore is a tiny painful small blister and it is very contagious. A canker sore is not caused by a virus but triggered by nutritional deficiencies, such as, emotional stress and the lack of fruits."

Hucks entered into the room and stopped, standing in the middle of the floor, typing on the tiny screen of the mobile telephone with a smile. "The word 'ward' means keeper in Old English. However, it also means a separate room inside a hospital for a sick patient or a minor under the care and control of a guardian who has been appointed by a court of law or an enclosed wall of a fortress or a castle. We're housed inside an old castle. Ain't that right, Woot?"

Woot sat back into the padded chair and tapped on the remote control, surfing each channel on the television screen with a smile. "What's up your butthole, Hucks?"

"The royals," Hucks continue to type and read on the tiny screen of the mobile telephone with a puzzled brow while looking for more missed information.

Ana continued to stare at her reflection in the mirror and tapped on her lips that didn't show a canker sore. "I think the queen is stressed out with her life which is torn between a mother and a queen. She never smiles with happiness that must be why she has those ugly canker sores over her lips."

Woot watched the television with a smile. "All the proper Englishmen and women possess a set of bad toothies. That's why they smile with an icy stare of no clean enamel."

Ana looked down with a puzzled brow and lifted up, reading the glossy colored pamphlet on top of the table underneath the mirror, flipping through the pages and stopped with a smile. "Huh! The British glare is worth a thousand smiles."

Fern emerged out from the bedroom and cuddled her son with a yawn of exhaustion, stopping and stood beside Hucks with a worried brow. "I'm stressed and tired too as a loving mother and an angry hostage."

Hucks looked up with a smile and leaned over hugging Fern and the baby. "Fern, you and the baby stay in here and miss the afternoon business meeting. We can handle the royals. We can get the location of Brone and then kill Brone and save Cody. Then, we all can leave England and return back home to America. The end!" He chuckled with Woot.

Fern handed the baby to Hucks and stretched out the arms with an ugly yawn, looking at the baby with a worried brow. "No. I wanna hear all the accumulated resource information coming from the royals first, before we try to retrieve and save Cody. I don't trust these people as English and not Americans."

Ana dropped down the pamphlet and back stepped, spinning around with a smile and moved ahead and stopped, reaching out and touched each piece of polished ancient furniture with a puzzled brow, "Why not? They wanna help and rescue Cody too. If Cody is hidden somewhere here inside the continent of Europe, we want their help and need all their secret services. I vote to stay as long as possible, until we find Cody."

Hucks shouldered a wiggling son and slowly strolled around the room, bouncing the baby gently up and down while trying to calm the baby for a nap with a smile. "I'm boss. The boss orders that we all are staying, until we find Cody."

06:16 pm

Ground floor drawing room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures without light bulbs

The mint green colored room was rectangular-shaped with a high ceiling. A row of shiny metal knights of armor lined the far wall. The opposite wall displayed a row of glass windows showing off the colorful flower garden. The side walls held pockets of ancient dark wooden sitting furniture between a wide book shelf that was filled old volumes of colorful manual and books.

Woot cuddled Ana and moved underneath the open archway with the width size of a compact car, turning to scan the spacious room of mint green hue with a smile. "This is the life for some folks. Isn't that right, Ana? But it is not me. I like working like a dog in our native America country. I arise at five in the fucking morning and then go to work and come home at fucking seven in the night of darkness while missing all the daytime fun and entertaining television programs. Yeah! I love America as a middle class..."

Jon stood behind one of the conference chairs waiting on his family members and all the American guests to select a chair with a smile. "The staff has provided a tray of freshly baked tea biscuits and a pitch of cold squash in the center of the table. Squash is the Brit name for freshly squeezed lemonade. Please, refresh your palette with our native goodies."

Hucks moved ahead beside Fern and stopped, pulling out the chair for his wife. She sat down first with the sleeping baby. He leaned over and poured out two glass tumblers of yellow colored squash with a smile, sliding one tumbler in front of Fern and lifted up, sipping and swallowed the cold beverage. He dropped the tumbler and reached up, slamming a palm into the forehead with a shiver and a loud grunt. "Ugh! I got an ice cream headache"

Jack entered the room with a smile with his wife Jill, who held the baby. "A brain freeze happens when something cold touches nerves the roof of the mouth, triggering all blood vessels in the front of your head to swell and expand. The swelling causes a jabbing pain of a brain freeze," he moved ahead and stopped, pulling a chair for his wife Jill. Jill sat down with the baby and stared with a British stern face at each American in silence.

"Thinking tea will fix everything," Woot poured out two glass tumblers of yellow tinted squash for him and Ana, sliding one in front of Ana, sitting down beside her with a smile.

Jon dropped open and closed the mouth with a smirk at Woot. "Where did you learn that English expression, Woot?"

Woot lifted up and waved the mobile telephone near a grin. "The cell has everything you want, but Cody's whereabouts."

Jack grinned. "There is no worry about solving that dilemma."

Jill sneezed out loud and then performed a soft hiccup while rocking her baby inside the chair at the table.

Woot sipped and swallowed the squash with a smile. "What's our next move, Hucks?"

Hucks nodded with a stern face. "We search and find Cody next. I believe it has been confirmed that Brone has captured Cody. Presently, Brone has accomplished some of his rotten-ass field goals. One, he has Cody. Two, he has killed off all of the identified Jesus Strand folks or beings or people. Three, he's scaring the shit out of everyone's buttholes, literally."

Woot smiled with a smile. "Brone doesn't scare my butthole."

Hucks grinned. "That's because Woot has a hole in his ass that is bigger than your standard butt-hole model," he chuckled with the others.

Woot frowned. "Hucks need more caffeine, instead of sweetened lemon water to counteract the effect from his lingering jet lag while coming from America."

Jack said with a British stern face. "What are you postulating as the main objective of this male who is named, Hucks?" Jill sneezed out loud and then performed a soft hiccup while rocking the baby next to Jack.

Hucks nodded with a stern face. "Brone is working to build an army of Jesus Strand bodies for his anti-holy army and then taking over the world, without a specifically detailed expired time deadline."

Woot looked down with a smile to see the wrist watch. "Good! I got time for a quick workout and a hot shower." He looked up with a wink to see his new wife. "Do you wanna hit the weight room with me, wifey-poo? Where is the weight room inside the drafty old castle, Jon?"

Jill looked up with a British stern face to see each person. "I believe that event has occurred. Brone is the Antichrist which is mentioned in the Holy Bible," she sneezed out loud and then placed a finger, picking into her eardrum. She pulled out the finger and looked down with a British stern face to see the yellow goo and then wiped it on the side of the baby blanket.

Woot shook a skull with a sour frown. "Hell, naw! Brone is an anti-godless fucking asshole with a holy shitty big ego with access to zillions of Euro dollars which is hidden in a matching set of eighteen crocodile designer fairy hot pink traveling luggage. If I ever get to stick my gun barrel literally up his butthole, then I will happily blast his ass back to up to see Brother Jesus. Then, He can do His famous thing," he chuckled with the others.

"That is a great clue, Woot! I will inform the British prime minister to watch for eighteen pieces of hot pink designer crocodile traveling luggage packed inside the boot." Jon chuckled.

"Smart ass," Woot snarled at Jon. Ana reached out and patted the arm of Woot with a giggle and a grin in silence

Jack smiled. "In London, the trunk of a car is known as the boot. The English word 'trunk' is the front end of an elephant. For you yanks, the engine of a car is located underneath the hood. A hood to a Brit is the part of an overcoat that covers one's head, when it rains."

"Smart ass number two," Woot sneered at Jack. Ana reached over and elbowed the bicep of Woot with a lady sneer.

Hucks shook a skull with a grin. "You're not too smart of a smart ass, Woot. A good warrior solider knows that you blast a bullet into an evil anti-godless fucking asshole down his tonsils and then the vicious explosion blows his ass directly down to hell. So, Satan can do his infamous thing instead," he chuckled with the others.

"Thanks for the correction there, buddy!" Woot sipped and swallowed the squash with a nod to Hucks.

Hucks reached over with a smile and ticked the naked toes of his son. "Anytime, pal!"

"Do not wake your son! Or you can breastfeed him back to sleep," growled Fern.

"I'll pay one million bucks to see that serious sexual exotic feeding action, Hucks," Woot laughed.

Hucks frowned. "Fuck it, Woot!"

Jack smiled. "We have a solid lead. We have identified the head terrorist who is nicknamed Brone with a colored photograph," he slid the photography to Hucks. The photograph showed an elder man with a brown ponytail.

Hucks pointed down with a puzzled brow at the photograph. "He doesn't have a white towel wrapped around his nasty hair roots or a white sheet covering his dark business suit. This man is cleaned shaved, good looking with good posture minus a weapon, of course. Where did you get the picture, Jack?" Jill sneezed and then performed a soft hiccup while rocking the baby in the chair.

Jack smiled. "Brone lives here in the city of London based on our source..."

"Hey!" Woot looked down and read out loud the tiny screen of the mobile telephone. "A hiccup is a set of uncontrollable contraction of the diaphragm coming from eating too much, overdoing the alcohol, or swallowing too many air molecules. A hiccup will go away on its own when you try holding the breath, drinking water, or breathing in a bag," he looked up with a smile to see the face of Jill with a nod. "There! I solved the medical mystery of hiccups. Enjoy!"

Fern turned and stared with a grin at the face of Jill. "You possess a set of raccoon eyes like me as a new mother. I was awake this morning at four with my son during feeding time that Hucks will be doing tomorrow morning as I plan to sleep late tomorrow," she softly chuckled.

Hucks looked up with a worried brow to see each face. "Do we have a single clue where Brone has hidden Cody? Do we have a single hint what Brone is going to do with Cody?"

Jon nodded with a British stern face to each person. "I will repeat again. Brone is hiding here in the city of London. Within a matter of time, maybe hours or days, we shall find his nest of vipers. We must be quick and steady, before Brone kills Cody. Cody is the one of the last known Jesus Strand teenagers in the world. Brone does not possess the Jesus Strand which has been tested, re-tested, verified, re-verified, confirmed, and re-confirmed coming from all the gathered and collected DNA molecules at each death scene here in Europe. Brone will still need access the DNA strand on Cody to directly create another child of Jesus."

Hucks looked up with a gasp to see Jon. "How in the hell did ya'll figure out that Brone doesn't possess the Jesus Strand? How did you get his DNA for gene testing? Where did you test his DNA? Was it here in London? The only reason, we know about Cody and his Jesus Strand comes from compliments of a teenager at Antebellum House in the farm town of Leed within the US State of Alabama in the USA. And that was it for the American team."

Jack smiled. "The secret DNA information was acquired through a series of dangerous counter-intelligent work by all of our secret agents, not once, but a couple of times to be absolutely certain. Brone does not carry the Jesus Strand unlike my brother Jon, my wife Jill, and me."

"I see why he's king," Ana nodded with a smile to Jack.

"I see why I'm going to die," Woot tapped a finger on top of the table surface with a worried brow at Jack. "Someone answer me this! How in the hell did the Jesus Strand thing start up or come about or was created?"

"It began with Brother Jesus, Woot," Ana reached over and patted his bicep with a smile.

Woot shook a skull with a confused brow, "Naw! How did it get out of Brother Jesus? He doesn't have a child or a baby to carry on the DNA string. Did He piss on a petrified piece of ancient tree bark and a fossilized flower petal unlike his cousin John the Baptist?"

Jon exhaled. "This is not the current question to ask here. The current question, why is Cody important to Brone? I do not understand the blood relationship between Cody and Brone. Brone is not the father of the teenager..."

Woot reached over and slapped the bicep of Hucks while kicking a boot toes into the leg of Hucks at the time for silence.

Fern could not feel but heard the hand attack on her husband coming from Woot. She had read the presidential report that Cody was the biological son of Brone without spilling the secret until Cody was safe. She continued to rock the baby and stare with a puzzled brow at each face. "Back to our original discuss of the Jesus Strand! A male produces a child of Jesus from a virgin bride. This is the only sexual method of giving an unborn child the eighteenth DNA gene. However, I can't explain it scientifically or medically. So, someone go and die and ascend into heaven, asking Brother Jesus about that one," giggling.

Ana frowned with puzzlement, "So, Almighty God set up a pre-condition arrangement within all of the male species sorta like a pre-nuptial wedding agreement. The adult male becomes the child of Jesus, so the virgin female births a child of Jesus. If the adult male is not the child of Jesus, but the adult virgin is a child of Jesus. What is the babe?"

Jon smiled. "A child of Jesus, as long as, one biological parent contains the eighteenth gene can become the child of Jesus as long as the female parent is a virgin. Then, the baby will be a child of Jesus."

Jack smiled. "Look at this from a backward point of view! Within the ancient time frame of world history, a virgin was not only prized but sacrificed during a ritual pagan fake-god worshiping ceremony, such-like, in the foreign country of Mexico..."

Woot smiled. "There are definitely no children of Jesus within the entire landscape of South American. No wonder! All the savages ate each other as a carton of breakfast eggs," he laughed with Hucks.

Fern frowned. "Based on that working theory, there should not be a person, who possesses the Jesus Strand."

Ana frowned with confusion, "What happens, if the pair of biological parents, who possess the Jesus Strand, become a divorced couple? Divorce of course is a very common ritual throughout the world, especially in modern day civilization. But, that will never ever happen to us. Isn't that correct, Woot?" Woot turned and winked at Ana while patting her arm with a smile in silence.

Jack smiled. "You are correct, Ana. The Bible states that a divorce is a very bad thing. Almighty God does not want any of His paired children to destroy the blessed marital relationship between the husband and the wife. At the same time, the Jesus Strand is only transferred by the eighteenth DNA gene down into a virgin female. A male can sperm kids for decades and decades by a gene-mode scientifically or heavenly engineered while allowing a male sperm to procreate a fetus of his species which is also willed by God alone."

Jon smiled. "The second more important reason here, a male always protects his chosen love mate, who is a virgin. Even in the cycle of life, a male has to wait for his girl to mature and menstruate."

Hucks reached over and slapped the arm of Woot with a laugh. "Woot is turning into a brightly pretty color of strawberry on his face. Mature, mate, and menstruate, buddy! Try to remember these three important words!" he laughed with the others.

"Suck it up, Woot!" Fern continued to rock her baby with a smile.

Jon smiled. "I am trying not to make Woot's face strawberry tart again. A male fights for his virgin bride, since the male is the stronger, tougher, and more muscled of the two species on Earth, even in war battle. The male is the fiercest warrior, who kills with one blow to the head or the heart, so Almighty God gives the male the ability to procreate for decades and decades while continuing to produce more children of Jesus."

"I like." Hucks smiled with a nod.

Jon nodded with a smile, "Quite good!"

Fern nodded with a grin. "I agree but I don't necessary like the explanation."

Jill sneezed out loud and then performed a soft hiccup while rocking the baby. Jack reached out and patted the arm of Jill with a smile. She reached out and grabbed sipping and swallowed the water with a British stern face to each person. "A female virgin is too precious and too few. World History contains numerous tragic tales of both a virgin and a whore."

"I don't appreciate the term, whore," frowned Ana.

"You're my precious virgin." Woot leaned over with a smile and a kiss into her cheekbone, pulling back with a set of whispered words of love.

"We all know the definition of virgin. Let's term the other type of woman as a girl, so we should say a virgin and a girl," Ana nodded with a stern face.

Woot nodded with a smile. "Virgins and girls, let it be so entitled from here on out. The most famous girl in world history was Cleo babe."

"No! You are incorrect. She was no beauty and no whore. Her only two lovers were her Roman bred two husbands, Caesar and Anthony," Ana smiled.

Jack pointed down with a smile at the sandal of Ana. "Ana, you are descended directly from the Cleopatra Ptolemaic dynasty that came from a true Greek family, which is represented by a long second digit on each foot. When the second toe is clearly longer than the big toe, it is called a Greek foot or a long toe. The Greek foot has been documented on the remaining Greek god and goddess marble sculptures within the country of Greece. The Statue of Liberty has a set of twin long toes of this same proportion also. Only ten percent of the entire world population features this prevalence musculoskeletal dysfunction. Congratulations, Ana!"

Ana giggled with a grin and wiggled the toes inside the open sandals. "Thank you!"

Woot chuckled. "World anthropology has proven that the caveman has a pair of brown irises, but Hucks has a pair of green eyes. Why is that so, buddy?"

Jon smiled. "A pair of amber eyes has a strong yellowish golden and a russet coppery tint which appear as a grayish-gold in dogs, cats, owls, eagles, pigeons, and fish."

"Hear doggie, doggie!" Woot laughed. The little puppy stood upright from the pink blanket on the floor with a tiny bark and then slowly trotted towards the wall, stopping and hiked up a leg, pissing on the ancient colorful wallpaper. Woot turned with a laugh and pointed down at the puppy. "Hucks, it's your turn to change the baby's diapers."

Jon ignored the puppy and said with a smile. "The blue iris of any eyeball is a genetic mutation within the eye chromosome which is born from one single common ancestor. Your great-to-the-zillionth-power grandfather comes from an ancient Romania male, which was about 10,000 years ago, Woot."

"An Atlantian ancestor! Damn, mama! I'm really an Atlantian in disgust," Woot reached down and lifted up the mobile telephone with a chuckle, tapping on the camera icon and viewed his own eye color of ice blue through the tiny screen with a laugh.

"Disguise! The word is disguise, Woot." Fern laughed.

Jon smiled. "The region of people with a pair of blue irises includes the country of Ireland, the islands of the Baltic Sea, the entire range of northern Europe, and ninety-nine percent of the people that live in country of Estonia, all of them possess a pair of blue eyes. A pair of gray eyes is common in Eastern Europe. A pair of green eyes comes from Icelandic, Dutch, Celtic, and Germanic relatives. A pair of violet eyes is caused when a streak of very, very bright light hits each iris."

Woot smiled. "A pair of hazel eyes is composed of green, brown, and orange hues."

Jill smiled. "There are differences in epidermis tones too consisting of dark brown, light pink skin, red skin, and black tone. A female will have a tone of lighter skin tone rather than a male, because a female need more calcium during pregnancy. Our skin synthesizes vitamin D from sunlight when absorbing the calcium."

Ana smiled. "At one time, a tone of pale skin was thought to be cursed or caused by an evil spirit."

Jon smiled. "A hitchhiker's thumb, the ability tongue rolling, bad breath, smelly feet, these are all type of genetic traits which are inherited from your mum or your dad or your grandmum or grandpa..."

Woot stood upright from the chair and stretched out both arms into the air with an ugly yawn, "Time out!" He smiled with a nod. "No more DNA traits, ya'll! I'm getting nausea thinking about, where my bad breath comes from either my mama, or my grandmother, after they each kiss my cheekbone for a motherly greeting," he dropped both hands and slapped the trousers with a chuckle and a smile. "Let's start from the top again and go back to the main subject matter. Why is Cody of interest to Brone?" He sat down and leaned over, hugging into Ana.

Hucks frowned. "We don't know."

Jon cleared a throat. "I believe it is obvious. Cody is a child of Jesus, possessing the Jesus Strand based on both his youth and the set of lousy bodyguards." Woot growled. Ana reached over and slammed the arm of Woot with a sour frown. Jon smiled. "Brone accomplished his goal, grabbing Cody. Now, we find and take him back. Quite good!"

"What are the names of individuals, who possess the Jesus Strand genetic trait? How many people are counted who possess the Jesus Strand throughout the world? Does anyone know or have guessed the current number of species or beings or individuals that possess the Jesus Strand?" Ana nodded with a stern face.

Jack laughed. "This is the mysterious part of the total equation that we are trying to identify, also, Ana. We have some names of people based on world history records, which have been DNA tested and proven to be true children of Jesus. Why don't you take a guess for fun? You will be very surprised."

Ana nodded with a grin, "A challenge? I like challenges. Empress of France Marie Antoinette is my guess. Woot, do ya wanna guess a famous historical figure?"

Woot leaned over with a whisper and a fake smile into the cheekbone of Hucks. "They take this shit too seriously, Hucks. We should think about leaving and going back home to America. Let the president sent another team for this international encounter mission crapola here! We need to focus on finding and saving the life of Cody."

"We're here to find Cody. I don't believe this shit either. Cody is most important right now." Hucks whisper back to Woot while pretending to read the mobile telephone.

"Then, now is a good time to ask the royals those set of damn question. So, we can get Cody and leave from here soonest," Woot whispered back to Hucks while pulling out and pretending to read the mobile telephone too.

Jack smiled. "Actually, your answer is incorrect. Marie Antoinette was taught the courtly life of a princess, such like, the dress, the appearance, and the correct behavior with exquisite poise and a graceful deportment of a royal queen. However, she was the second child born coming from her biological parents. Her older sister was named Maria Carolina, who possessed the Jesus Strand. We have numerous yellow stained royal parchments that are dated from the time period of the Middle Ages proving and confirming all that ancient information."

Hucks typed and read the tiny screen from the mobile telephone, looking up with a smile to see Jack. "Okay! I wanna play the game and guess for fun. I have done some old fashion research on my cell. I guess the American Harriet Beecher Stowe. She was an indirect influential cause of the American Civil War, when she met with Abraham Lincoln about slavery within one of the Southern US States. She wrote a book about anti-slavery and proclaimed that she did it, because she was a Christian of Brother Jesus."

Jack smiled. "That is an excellent guess, Hucks," he looked down with a grin, typing on the tiny keyboard of the mobile telephone. "I am accessing the archived electronic documents through the cell phone. I am accessing all the information. American Harriet Beecher Stowe was born the seventh child of ten siblings. She married a professor of college and widower Calvin Ellis Stowe. The couple married on the sixth of January in the year 1836. The couple birthed seven children, including twin daughters. Calvin was the first born son of his biological family, possessing the Jesus Strand, which was passed down to his biological daughter Eliza Taylor Stowe. Her first born child was named Eliza Taylor Stowe, who died both childless and unmarried, at the age of seventy-five. Therefore, the first born child terminated the Jesus Strand DNA strand within the Stowe family tree," he looked up with a nod to see Hucks.

Woot chuckled. "I got one. Mata Hari, she lived in the years 1876 to 1917 as an exotic dancer and a real life spy during World War One, except her execution was highly questionable. Was she working for the allies? Was she working for the Nazis? Was she a child of Jesus too?"

Jack smiled, "No."

Hucks frowned with confusion. "How do you know that, buddy? How certain are you, my new friend?"

"Man! It's a wonder the Jesus Strand has survived and outlasted all these centuries and these assholes," Woot sipped and swallowed the squash, smashing the lips with the sweet taste.

Ana exhaled with a puff of confusion, "Why would Almighty God do this to any of His children?"

Jill sneezed out loud and performed a hiccup without rocking the sleeping baby and looked up with a British stern face to see each person. "Our royal descendants have been researching the Jesus Strand for centuries. The Virgin Mary started our pure race and then came virgin Joan of Arc and then virgin Queen Elizabeth, the first. All these named women were known to be a virgin while accomplishing a set of magnificent feats for both man and woman-kind. However, they are..."

"Greatness!" Jon smiled. "The Jesus Strand came from Mary, not Brother Jesus. Everyone has been speculating that the Jesus Strand came directly from Brother Jesus. However, Almighty God had implanted His special gene of greatness inside a selected human hostess of Mary for her to conceive the Son of God. She is the carrier, who transferred the gene down into her first born Son, who is the King of all man and women-kind. He possessed the first ever Jesus Strand. We all know that Brother Jesus did not marry a wife or conceive a child. There is not an existing offspring of Brother Jesus, but there is offspring from the Virgin Mary, His mother. Goodness! Don't you see this? Don't you get this? This is an extraordinary discovery. Almighty God implanted His special gene of goodness inside a virgin girl. The virgin girl birthed the Son of God, who was named Brother Jesus. Then, the virgin girl conceived a second child coming from her wedded human husband also. The second child was really the first human child of Mary and Joseph who was really born on the planet like each one of us. The first human child also received the same string of the Jesus Strand too. Godness! Goodness! I just figured that all out right now. Almighty God messed up, ya'll!" He laughed with a nod.

Hucks dropped open and closed the lips with a gasp. "Wow! This or that is an incredible find, if it is really real and true."

Jon turned with a smile and pointed at the laptop in front of Jack. "Where are all of the ancient scrolls located, Jack? Find all of those ancient scrolls. The royal library has scrolls, parchments, papers, books, letters, and other written materials going back almost to first day of the cavemen and women. I bet we have hidden some dinosaur bones that were written down in ancient and dried caveman blood droplets too somewhere buried inside the archives underneath the royal castle. Brother Jesus had a set of half-brothers and a half-sister also. We have traced backwards every single exposed Jesus Strand individual to a resource name of the known Jesus Strand father or mother, if you will."

Jack pressed a button and flipped through the electronic screen on the laptop, reading the information with a smile. "I found it. It is here. In the Book of Galatians, chapter one and verse nineteen, it says that 'James is the brother of Jesus.' He received a special appearance by the resurrected Jesus and then became the principle authority to the Jewish Christians. James married and produced a son named Jude. There is a historical Bible story here too.

"The grandson of Jude was brought before the ruler of the time who was named Domitian Caesar. The ruler asked, if the grandson was from the family of David. Jude confessed. The ruler asked how much land and money did Jude hold. Jude confessed very little money and some land which was used by his labor. Jude showed a pair of rough hands with a set of corns on each finger pad coming from working all the crop fields. The ruler asked about Brother Jesus and His kingdom in heaven. He confessed that the kingdom is not of this soil but resided in the heavens with all the angels and that Brother Jesus would return one day and visit back down on the planet. The ruler let the grandson go in peace.

"The grandson of James became the leader of the Jewish church. Within the family tree, James fathered son Jude, who fathered son Elzasus. Elzasus was born in Jerusalem and died in the year 112 AD in the country of France. Elzasus fathered son Nascien. I have read this passage many times while studying the Jesus Strand. I know how it ends, but I want my new American friends to come to the same conclusion.

"Let's jump ahead to the next generation! The grandson of Elzasus is named Nascien, the second. He fathered Prince Galains of Midi in year 480 AD in the country of France. Let's jump ahead a couple of more generations within the same family tree of James. King of Gaul of France was born in the year 570 AD and bore a room of royal children. Let's jump ahead to more generations of James. The Duke Gaerwant De Bretagne was born in the year 820 AD in the country of France and then died at the age of fifty-four years of age. Let's jump ahead a couple of more generations of James. Duke Jahel Berernger, the second married Princess Gerberge de Lorraine. He lived for to be eighty years old. To end my researched tale, the family tree of half-brother Jesus who was named James can be traced directly to the Joan of Arc."

Fern frowned with puzzlement. "But, virgin Joan of Arc died without marrying a husband or producing a child, so she accidentally terminated the Jesus Strand within her biological family unit. Great Britain Queen Elizabeth, the first didn't have a child either and Eliza Taylor Stowe didn't marry and produce an offspring. Thus, all these women accidentally terminated the Jesus Strand within their biological family unit too. How did the eighteenth gene, which houses the Jesus Strand, even continue to perpetuate within the world, without a virgin female?"

"The male line carried on the eighteenth gene by fucking a virgin, who may or may not have possessed the Jesus Strand," Hucks laughed.

Jack nodded with a smile. "I concur with Hucks. The Jesus Strand is only conceived through the male line during the modern day."

"No! I don't like that idea first. Second, there was Virgin Mary. She was the only one chosen to receive the special gene coming from Almighty God and then started the trend of the Jesus Strand with her first born biological son James in which the Jesus Strand has lasted until present day," Fern frowned.

"No. We argued that a virgin carried the Jesus Strand which was passed down to the male. The female had to be a virgin or it didn't work," Jon nodded.

Jack smiled. "We have supporting evidence in our world history books. Take the past ancient royal mating rituals coming from each country that housed great power world like Great Britain, France, and Spain. Each royal male always married a virgin. Each recorded wedding day goes as far back to the ninth century while keeping the Jesus Strand both viral and alive. No one prince or princess really understood the particular rational for marrying another royal or a virgin. This is reason why the unwritten law existed and then seriously flourished throughout the land for only the royals. There was some spoken secret verbal instruction coming from Almighty God to the Virgin Mary and then the verbal secret was passed down by family generation to family generation as the keepers of the eternal virgin flame."

"Boom!" Woot lifted up both arms into the air with a smile and a chuckle.

"Boo!" Ana crossed both arms and shook the curls with a sour frown.

Hucks nodded with a smile to Jon. "Good one, Jonny boy!"

"Jon gets a time out!" Fern frowned at Jon.

Jill said with a British stern face to each person. "So, I don't understand. Cody is not a virgin teenager. Is he a virgin teenage male?"

Woot laughed. "Correct, ya'll! Teen man-whore, he probably fucked more girls than..." he smiled. "Well, he liked to fuck girls a lot and frequently..."

"How do you know that statement to be really true, Woot?" Jill said with a British stern face.

Fern smiled. "The collected information comes from all the shared secrets inside the man cave of the Woot Toot Executive Train while during the Miss Lily Pageant."

Woot turned and frowned at Hucks. "Ya fucking tattling asshole, you tattled all of our whispered secrets to Fern beyond the invisible barriers of sound and spit from my man cave, pal."

"I did not tattle tale all of our shared secrets," Hucks turned and winked at Fern. "She's my wife, the love of my life, the mother of my child. I trust her and I trust you and I trust both of your deep dark secrets and nasty shitty lies," he turned and winked at Woot.

"Stop whining, Hucks!" Fern looked down with a smile at her sleeping baby.

"Yes ma'am." Hucks leaned over and wrapped an arm around his wife, smiling down at his son.

"Back to teen-whore Cody! Based on all the new gathered and exchanged information, Cody might have already impregnated a virgin female. We need to back track and find that virgin within the US State of Alabama. This is our new priority now." Jill sneezed out loud and placed a finger inside the other eardrum, yanking out the digit and stared down at the yellow goo, leaning down and wiped the goo on the side of the baby blanket.

Woot laughed. "If he luckily found and then fucked a Bama virgin female? Now days, a young girl is a pretty or an ugly whore, babe."

"Woot has such a strong use of abusing the English language." Jon smiled.

Woot slapped the chest with a smile. "I speak all truth and lie using the American language, pal."

"And Woot knows the correct answer to that implied question too." Fern smiled.

"Yeah! The answer is negatory from me." Woot laughed.

"Then, Hucks knows the other half of that implied question." Jon smiled.

Hucks smiled. "No! Cody didn't fuck a virgin based on all the gathered secretly and heatedly sexy reports on top of my office desk there at the Redstone Point base and coming the nasty tongue of Cody. The answer is negatory two, too," laughing.

"What about his one-week stunt inside Antebellum House with all these innocent virgin females? The report files revealed that every female was a virgin, who lived inside the House based on the overprotection nature of her parents by sending a virgin daughter away from the local high school environment of nasty males." Fern frowned.

"Yeah! All of those teens plus all the biological parents were killed in an execution style with a gun and without a blind fold." Woot reached out and kicked the table leg with fury. The ancient thick leg of the table did not move.

"We are back to the two original questions. Where is Brone? Why take Cody?" Jill sneezed out loud and reached up, wiping the running nose hole with the baby blanket.

"Brone might believe that Cody enjoys being a teen-stud and has fun sex with any and all American girls. There might be a slight possibility that Cody could have stumbled upon a virgin. Then there could be on virgin with a baby that does possess the Jesus Strand based on all the gathered and collected holy-moly shitty church talk. Isn't that right, Hucks?" Woot turned and nodded to Hucks.

Hucks shook a skull with a stern face, "Naw! My theory stands straight and tall that Brone is hunting for Cody and then accidentally found saw him there at Antebellum House. I don't know why Brone didn't know all that information beforehand. Both the Jesus Strand and Cody were located there at the same place in Antebellum House, but Brone was too late for some reason. Cody could have done some good for Almighty God plus could have had a lot of fun in the process too," he turned and winked at Woot.

Jon gasped. "Do you understand the underlying meaning of your statement, Hucks? Cody is a carrier of the Jesus Strand and could become a sex man-whore while producing many, many more children of Jesus."

"Right, buddy!" Hucks turned and winked at Jon. "That was the point of my statement!"

Woot gasped. "Gawd! Can I become a sex man-whore too?"

Ana reached over and kicked the leg of Woot while staring with a sneer at the nose profile of her new wedded husband. "My eardrums need to be cleaned out from the clogged up earwax, darling. Could you repeat that set of nasty words which just happen to fall out your parted lips for my eardrums, again, darling?"

Woot turned and gasped with a smile at Ana. "Gawd! Can I become the exclusive sex man-whore for my newly married wife Ana tonight and for the rest of my days and nights, until I die? Since, we are legally married as husband and wife within the eyeballs of Almighty God and the belly of the church. I do love you so much, sweetheart," he leaned over and kissed her cheekbone, pulling back with a smile.

Ana crossed the arms with a grin and a nod. "You keep repeating that statement over and over into my eardrums for the rest of my life, my newly married husband Woot."

"Jeezus! How many tick-tock hours have you, two been married now?" Hucks laughed out loud as he was the best man at the quickie wedding this afternoon.

"We were married seven hours, five minutes, and twenty-two seconds ago," Ana turned with a sour frown to see the wall clock.

Hucks laughed. "Shit, married man! Your ass just got screwed over good. Well, I mean your ass is not getting screwed tonight. Too bad! Sex with a virgin wife is great and fine and..."

"Hush it, Hucks!" Fern giggled.

"Back to business!" Jack frowned.

Ana stood upright from the chair and tossed both arms into the air with a sour frown. "I am done with all the business tonight. Stand and follow me, husband!" Woot stood upright from the chair and reached out, winking with a smile, grabbing the hand of Ana. They back stepped from the table and turned to face the door, leaving the drawing room with a set of smiles and whispered love words.

Hucks stood upright from the chair and leaned down, grabbing his son from Fern. She stood upright from the chair and turned with a smile to see the royals in silence. They cuddled together and turned to face the open archway.

Hucks shouted out loud. "Good night to ya'll!" Then they exited the room with a set of smiles at the baby and whispered words of love also.

11:11 pm

4th floor level location

Cold temperatures with bright stars and moonlight

with four miles per hour winds

Shared chamber suite setting

Ana, Woot, Fern, and Hucks.

Man-made cold air temperatures without light bulbs

Woot slammed the bedroom door shut as it slowly closed without hitting against the flowered wallpaper. He moved ahead and stopped, standing in front of Hucks with a puzzled brow. "Brone is the real father of Cody." He had marched the puppy into the bathroom to sleep or piss and then closed the door. The puppy yelped and barked for attention behind the closed door.

Hucks laughed with a nod to Woot, "Quite good!"

Fern moved ahead and stood beside her husband with a frown. "You didn't bother to tell me that tiny important tidbit of shared information, dear."

Hucks tossed both arms into the air with a worried brow. "It is not some type of shared tidbit of tiny important information. It was too dangerous to release for the protection and the safety of Cody, sweetheart. During of one of the many messy murder attacks within the USA, the US Federal government had collected a set of fallen hair follicles that came from the ponytail of Brone, after he had visited before all of the Antebellum House murders. The DNA was analyzed and surprisingly came back with the matching DNA genes to Cody. Brone is the biological father of Cody for some weird-ass reason."

"The data must be wrong. Jack says different." Ana moved ahead from the closed bedroom door and stopped, standing beside Woot with a worried brow.

Woot looked down with a puzzled brow, typing and read the tiny screen on the mobile telephone. "The word 'quite' means somewhat within the British language. What did Jon say? Quite good! It says here to stay away from a diner meal, if a Brit tells you: quite good," he looked up with a smile to see each face, "Geez! Now, I'm scared and have pissed inside my new undergarments," laughing.

Fern frowned at Woot. "You are becoming a paranoid monster, again, Woot."

"Brone resides here somewhere within the continent of Europe, maybe closer to one of the heated countries of the Middle East. He is not a Southern boy as they say over there in Alabama. Therefore, it is impossible for Brone to be the father of Cody. You found an impostor there at the murder site." Fern sat down and held the baby while staring at Hucks.

Hucks nodded. "I was shocked too. But, a string of DNA doesn't lie, so we have discovered Cody's daddy, without a name, an address, and a phone number..."

Ana frowned. "Cody is still in danger from daddy and terrorist Brone. You say that he is the daddy of Cody, but he really isn't nice to kidnap his own son. Therefore, we concentrate on finding and saving the life of Cody."

Hucks exhaled with a huff of frustration. "I do believe the DNA results, the USA forensic experts, and the US government over anyone else. So, Cody has found his dad, who is a dangerous terrorist for some silly reason."

Fern frowned. "This man is looking for his son. I would do anything to locate my son, if we were ever separated on purpose or accidentally and then..." exhaling. "Look! I can sympathize as a new mother of a child. That's the only reason for his mysterious visit to Antebellum House before the cold-blood murder of all other Jesus Strand people. Where would Brone be located here in London? Someone take a guess. Then, let's go and get him dead! So, I can go back home and be a full time mommy," she looked down with a smile at the baby.

Ana exhaled with a puff of worry, "We don't know the home address or the mobile phone number of terrorist Brone."

Woot reached over and patted the sports jacket with a smile, moving ahead and stopped in front of the ancient writing desk. He reached out and opened, closing each drawer, finding the two items, pocketing them into the jacket and spun around with a smile to see Hucks. "I found some new cigarettes and a box of new matches. I need to smoke right now," he pointed to Ana and the closed bedroom door. "I don't like smoking alone. Come with me, Ana! And Hucks needs to take the dog outside for a piss too," he turned and nodded with a grin to Hucks. Fern continued to sit and fed the baby while understanding that Woot was going to do something very dangerous inside a foreign country with her husband.

Hucks moved ahead with a chuckle and entered the second bedroom, dashing towards the private bathroom and grabbed the puppy, cuddling the animal into a chest, patting the skull. The puppy stops barking. He returned back into the shared living room space while patting the dog, dashing through the open archway with a smile. Woot held the door open for Hucks. Ana stood alone in front of Woot in the hallway with a worried brow and then slowly moved ahead towards the staircase, surveying the walls and the ancient furniture.

Woot and Hucks moved together behind the backs spine of Ana. Woot leaned over with a whisper and a stern face into the cheekbone of Hucks. "Walk around outside with the yelping puppy and be the guard dog for me and Ana. We're strolling around the lower levels and the basement of this royal castle. Something is wrong here. Brone is Cody's father. Brone is hiding here in London. And Brone does not possess the Jesus Stand. This is all true shit. However, Jon is a child of Jesus with his new sister-in-law Jill. Jon is the second born son of the royal family. Jill is the baby of three children. I researched all the accuracy information during our evening meeting on my mobile telephone. How in the hell does the Jesus Strand pass to someone, who is not the first born kid within the biological family unit? This is so true bullshit."

Hucks continued to move with Woot and pat the puppy with a worried brow and a whisper into the cheekbone of Woot. "How did you reach that weird-ass conclusion, Woot?"

Woot softly chuckled. "Easy! It came from all the lousy storytelling of the royals. Okay! The fairy tale story goes something like this. The Virgin Mary got the Jesus Strand from Almighty God and then passing it down to her Son. Brother Jesus didn't have a child and then suffered and died on the cross like Almighty God planned, since the beginning of time. Then, Mary get horny and begot human children with her wedded husband Joseph. There were both sons and daughters.

"Jack tattled the family tree of half-bro James, a human first born child of Mary and Joseph. The DNA of James had been traced and tracked down to Joan of Arc. That's because, the Jesus Stand was genetically passed down from the mother Virgin Mary down to her first born human son James and then genetically passed down to his first born human biological son, and then genetically passed down to his first born human biological son, and then passes down to his first born biological human brat, until it reached his human born great-great-great-whatever daughter Joan of Arc. Then, Joan of Arc was burned on the flaming stake, where the Jesus Strand terminated permanently. Therefore, the first born human baby is the key to the Jesus Strand transmission, not either a boy or a girl. Therefore, Queen Jill does not possess the Jesus Strand as she is the baby daughter with her biological family tree. Therefore, Queen Jill has a set of green fingernails on both her hands, a clear set of running snotty mucus coming out both of her nose holes, performing a series of soft hiccup sounds coming out of her tight esophagus, and a finger of yellow gooey earwax coming out from her earlobes..."

"So, what?" Hucks turned and strolled down the staircase with Woot, patting the puppy with a puzzled brow. "Queen Jill has a common cold. I wished I had figured out those clinical symptoms, before I allowed Fern and the baby to attend the meeting..."

"Naw! It ain't the common cold. It is disguised as the common cold," Woot stepped down onto the floor and moved ahead, exiting out the side door, slowly strolling ahead towards the manicured lawn within the castle grounds. "Take the puppy around the far corner on the other side for a piss! I'm investigating the dungeon of this old royal castle. I bet that I found something really gross where I might come back into the shared bedroom and vomit my green puke over the nice rugs too."

Hucks whispered. "Good luck!" Woot moved ahead and reached out, grabbing the extended hand of Ana, swiftly strolling from the patio porch and onto the grass.

Hucks moved ahead towards the edge of the patio and squatted down, reaching out and placed the tiny puppy on top of the manicured lawn, standing upright with a hum and turned to scan the landscape of the royal castle. There was a set of closed iron gates, rows of colorful garden flowers, and three rows of tall trees. The puppy run ahead and disappeared into the dark trees. He strolled ahead with a hum and moved closer to the flower garden and out of the bright flood lightning.

Woot and Ana rushed around the wall corner of the castle into a set of dull lightning and halted on top of the grass in front of the deep staircase. He led her down a set of rough concrete steps with a grin and stopped, finding a single rusty dungeon doorway, reaching out and rattled the door knob with a sneer. The door was locked. He reached down and grabbed, lifting up and twisted the wrist bone. The blade of the switchblade glittered underneath the dull lighting of the tall flood pole. He reached down and inserted the tip of the blade into the old lock with a soft grunt. The door way slowly cracked open in silence as it was very well oiled for current use.

11:33 pm

Lowest level of royal castle

Dungeon room setting

Cold air temperatures and damp without light bulbs

Woot shoved the door open and entered into a semi-dark room before Ana for protection. There was a set of long individual eating table that was draped down to the floor in a dull white linen sheet. The side walls were filled with long wooden shelves that contained silver tinted small pieces of individual equipment that shined through the bright moonlight of the starry night.

Ana sneezed out loud and reached up, touching the nose with a gasp and a whisper. "There is something inside this dark room that has activated my allergies, Woot."

Woot spun around with a worried brow to see her face in the dull moonlight. "Do you have allergies? What animal or plant are you allergic to?"

Ana wiped the nose from the running clear mucus with both hands with a whisper. "I am mostly allergic to plant pollen, not a dog or a cat."

He reached out and gently shoved Ana against the solid entrance wall without a line of covered eating tables, where the door was cracked open for a fast escape. He whispered with worry. "You stand near the flowing cool night breeze coming inside the door and act as the guardian. I'm taking a quick look at some of covered tables to collect our information. Then, we will leave out from here."

"What is going...?" She reached down and held the stomach with a distorted face. "I feel dizzy. The room is moving like vertigo," she leaned against the wall while slowly exhaling and inhaling with a set of deep breathes.

Woot frowned with confusion at Ana. "Vertigo is caused by an inner ear problem or a stem of nerve damage within the ear canal. Vertigo only lasts a few minutes, honey. Sometimes, vertigo makes you feel like vomiting up our delicious supper meal tonight. Are you sickened in your stomach also?"

"Not too much! But, you must hurry, so we can get outta of here. Then, I will feel better."

Woot whispered. "Stay put right here near the door! Something is definitely going on here inside the dungeon. Wait right here! I'll be back in a sec," he spun around with a puzzled brow and swiftly moved ahead, stopping at the first table, reaching out and lifted u the white linen sheet with a gasp and a whisper. "Shit!" He could not snap a glossy colorful picture with the mobile telephone, since the outside row of royal guards would see the tiny flash through the glass window inside the dark dungeon room. He dropped down the linen sheet and moved towards the second eating table, stopping and reached out, lifting up the sheet with a gasp and a whisper, "Double shit!" He dropped down the linen sheet and shuffled ahead to the third table, stopping and repeated the process with a gasp and a whisper. "Triple shit!" He dropped down the linen sheet and spun around with a worried brow, dashing back towards Ana. She was holding a hand over the open mouth and an aching stomach in pain.

Outside flower garden setting

Cool temperatures with starry night sky

The wooden club reached out and gently tapped on the collar bone of Hucks. The royal palace guard leaned over and bad breathed the eardrum of Hucks. "Sir, may I ask..." he gasped in shock. "Sir, why are your trousers down below your waistline and posed down at your kneecaps?"

Hucks snorted with amusement. "I'm pissing in the grass relieving my bladder which is called pissing too. We, Americans do this to keep from getting an UTI."

"Why are you exhibiting that disgusting American behavior on Her Majesty's manicured lawn?"

Hucks turned and scanned the manicured lawn while keeping the royal guard occupied and waited for Woot and Ana to emerge from the hidden compartment underneath the castle. "I'm waiting on that damn dog to finish her piss job too. Where is that mutt? Do you see that mutt here inside the manicured gardens of the royal castle? It belongs to my wife. She loves that damn dog. Come here, doggie-do-do!" He reached down and lifted the trousers, zipping the fly with a smile.

"Doggie-do-do, is that an American call for a canine?"

Hucks laughed out loud. "It is the name of the dog. Doggie do-do," he shouted out loud with a grin. "Do-do-doggie! Do-do-doggie, come back here! I finished my piss..."

"I was under the impression that the dog was named Doggie do-do."

Hucks spun around with a smile to see the royal guard. "A dog can't understand an English word or an American or a Spanish word, my new friend. The brain of a dog responds to loud sound like yee-haw, yahoo, woo-woo, and doggie do-do while thinking it is their real name..."

Outside dungeon staircase setting

Woot reached out and grabbed her hand, swiftly side stepping and open the door, exiting the room and halted in the night air on top of the last step. He spun around and reached out, firmly closing the door shut with a loud grunt of brute strength. The door sounded with a soft click when shut. He spun around again and reached out, grabbing her arm, swiftly leading up the set of concrete steps, hearing the loud voice. Hucks was talking very loud in the air with one of the royal guards.

Woot and Ana squatted down on top of the manicured grass and dropped down behind a set of flow curly green lush bushes. He could see through the leaves Hucks. Hucks stood beside one of the royal guards, moving towards the puppy, and stopped, reaching down and picked up the happy puppy. Then, the guard and Hucks spun around and slowly moved back towards the patio and out of sight of Woot and Ana.

Behind the bush, Woot slowly stood upright from the grass and patted the sports jacket, finding the item. He quickly lighted one cigarette and handed to Ana. "Pretend to smoke the cigarette!"

She frowned down at the burning cigarette. "Ugh! I hate cigarette smoke." She accepted the smelly cigarette and extended an arm towards the building with a sour frown in silence.

"You'll hate the smell of a dank and dusky prison cell floor worse, if we are caught spying as an American spy couple. Don't inhale it! Wave the lighted cigarette around the air waves, so the smoke bothers the royal guard too. We crawl towards the flower garden and then stand up from the grass. We are discussing the different types of colored roses." He lit a second cigarette and dropped down on both kneecaps, slowly crawling towards one of the tall thick tree trunks in front of the flower garden. She dropped down and followed beside Woot, holding out the cigarette to the side.

He stopped and swiftly stood upright from the grass and leaned down, assisting her to stand with him. He leaned against the dark bark of the tree out sight of the royal guard, turning to face the pretty flower garden with a smile to her. "Baby! I wish you would..."

The royal guard closed the patio door for Hucks and sniffed the air waves with a puzzled brow. He spun around with a gasp and dashed ahead towards the tall tree, stopping beside the nose profile of Woot, "Sir! You are away from your chamber suit and out very late in the warm evening..."

"Smoking is not allowed inside the castle, rule number one," Woot flicked the wrist bone with the lighted cigarette as the plume of red tinted ashes floated in the air near the nose bridge of the guard. The guard back stepped from Woot with a cough. Woot smiled. "Smoking is allowed in the fresh air, rule number two."

The guard said with a British stern face. "Sir, please extinguish out your cigarette and return back to your private chamber suit inside the castle for your protection from a hidden terrorist."

Woot leaned over and cuddled Ana, back stepping from the tree and spun around, slowly strolling towards the lighted porch with a smile, "Okey dokey, royal guard! Do you hear the nice British accent on the nice royal guard with a non-drawn gun, sweetie? It is time to go inside for our bed time," he strolled onto the patio floor. Ana dropped down the lighted cigarette on top of the tiles and stomped it dead with a giggle and a grin.

The guard opened the door. Woot and Ana moved ahead and climbed the stairs, cuddling without talking.
Tuesday September 7th

12:12 am

Cold temperatures with moonlight and bright stars

4th floor level

Shared chamber suite setting of Ana, Woot, Fern, and Hucks

Man-made cold air temperatures without light bulbs

The entrance door of the shared chamber suit opened.

Woot moved inside beside Ana with a worried brow, lifting up and examined the dog collar on the puppy for a spying bug, slowly strolling through the open living room and into his bedroom suite and stopped, squatting down and placed the puppy inside his private bathroom. The puppy started barking for more attention. He stood upright with a worried brow down at the puppy and back stepped from the bathroom, gently closing the bathroom door, swinging around to see the others and lifted a finger over the closed lips to each face for silence into the shared chamber suite.

Ana, Fern, and Hucks had followed behind the back spine of Woot through the living room and into the private bedroom, standing in a row with a nod and a confused brow in silence. The baby was sleeping inside a provided baby crib inside the other master bedroom.

Woot swiftly scooted around the row of friends and dashed out the private bedroom, moving towards the gigantic television, reaching out and flipped the live power with the remote control device. Then, he increased the volume of the television plasma like he was deaf inside the living room space, thumbing back over a collar bone towards his master bedroom suite for an impromptu meeting with his friends. He led the others into the bedroom and straight into the open very large walk-in closet that did not contain a single hanger of clothing as the others followed behind his back spine in silence and stopped, standing in the middle of the closet also. Woot He stood beside the wall and near the door, motioning with a hand in silence to sit down on top of the thick blue colored carpet. The other sat down in silence and confusion. He reached out and gently pulled the closet door shut, cutting off the closet lights also.

The closet walk-in closet was black midnight dark inside the tiny space.

Woot slowly moved ahead and slamming into the head of Ana, back stepp9ng and squatted down next to her with a whispering. "I'm sorry, honey! I don't think the closet is bugged for vocal human sound. Don't comment! Let me finish first. Ana and I visited the dungeon underneath the royal castle. I picked the old rusty lock with my pocket knife. Then, we entered into a dark and dank cold room. Interesting enough! Her allergies got activated by some type of chemical or bonding agent which was resided in the air molecules of the dark and cold dungeon. She sneezed several times and also experienced vertigo. Her nose was runny clear mucus too. Do you feel better, now, Ana?" he reached over and felt for her hand, squeezing it with a worried brow in the dark. "Just squeeze my hand!" He felt her squeeze his hand with a smile and a whisper to his friends in the dark. "Okay! She squeezed my hand.

"Ana is feeling better, after exiting out from the cold and dark dungeon. The dungeon is really a chemistry laboratory. There are lots of rolling operating tables which are usually used in a hospital setting, where each table wears a white linen bed sheet. I saw numerous rolling and covered tables through the bright moon beams coming through the glass windows. The uncovered set of windows is the cleanest set of glass panels in the world. I bet they leave the glass windows open during the day, while the airborne toxin fumes drift and die into the sunshine. Sunshine kills everything including a tongue of bad breath germs too.

"I got sick to my stomach after I had viewed three different tables and all they looked the same. Each table contained a dead and blue colored baby that continues to live down there in the dungeon underneath a white linen sheet," he reached over and pulled out the mobile telephone that illuminated the darkness and his face, typing and reading on the tiny screen with a whisper. "And each baby looks very familiar to me and you." Ana squeezed his arm with worry.

Woot whispered. "I feel your worry, too, Ana. Let me find that criminal report on my cell phone," he searched through the electronic files on his mobile telephone. "I didn't take a pic of the dead baby, because I wanna live and leave England with the rest of ya'll, in case my body and my cell get accidentally snatched up by M5 guys. I was afraid one of the royal guards might see the light explosion inside the dark dungeon too. Shit! It's not here, because I saw the set of paper folders with each glossy pic on top of your office desk in Huntsville, Hucks. Access your phone and bring up all these electronic files coming from Dr. Yorkie and all her dead folks coming from the Guntersville Dam massacre, Hucks!" Hucks reached down and pulled his mobile telephone which illuminated a stern face, typing on the tiny screen, searching for the electronic files with a worry guts. Woot whispered for all eardrums. "A few months, another mission team that contained Cody also fought against the real Brone and his real soldiers, who were both males and females. The leader of Cody's team was named Skippy. Skippy's girlfriend was named Yorkie. They both died inside the Antebellum House massacre. Anyways, Skippy brought back all of the dead bodies from Brone's army, finding something both interesting and gross." Hucks found the electronic files with a worried brow and reached out, handing his mobile telephone to Woot.

Woot accepted the phone with the tiny screen that displayed the first ugly electronic photography inside the dark closet, scrolling down through each picture with a grunt, "Yeah. The human anatomy is exactly the same as each one of these electronic pics on the phone and here inside the castle dungeon, Hucks. Look! I'm going to show you one particular pic. It is both gross and silly. So, don't laugh out loud. Cover your mouth! In case, we are being recorded by a spy camera." Woot reached down and placed the mobile telephone with the electronic gross and silly picture in the middle of the huddle. A set of soft gasped echoed inside the dark closet space.

Woot continued to stare at the electronic pit on the phone with a whisper. "Yeah! I saw the same thing, but in a miniature format of a tiny baby which was only weeks old from birth. The baby boy cadaver dick is fully erected, a rare condition called priapism. This is an impossible medical condition in a newborn male. There was a set of extra hair growth on both baby male and female that covered almost the entire nude infant body. I know what you're thinking. These things are not mammals or animals. Naw! Each one of these dead babies looks like this pic on Hucks' cell phone. All the fingers and toes on each dead baby are webbed too. There was a second row of teeth on each dead baby too. And each dead baby is missing some of the vital organs like a liver and both tiny kidneys, where the stomach is split open.

"I see the same medial pattern here too inside the castle dungeon, matching the Huntsville operating site. Dr. Yorkie concluded that all dead bodies had experiencing some type of dramatic genetic change within their individual DNA strand. She never completed her work, since she got assassinated by Brone and his nicely dressed goonies. The group of US scientists taking over her work doesn't have a clue either. Dr. Yorkie believed Brone was reviving some type of cave men and women genetic genes, since the DNA strands were going backwards with a set of excessive hair growth over the entire naked body and a set of double rows of teeth like a savage animal.

"I have a new working theory, ya'll. Jon throughout the Miss Lily pageant was annoying me with a set of clinical medical symptoms, when he viewed each beauty contestant. I ignored the asshole, since he was annoying puissant to my butthole anyways. But, he specifically mentioned excessive sweating, eye ticks, and yellow earwax. Think it! Queen Jill has a set of green-colored fingernail beds which is not a bottle of green tinted fashion girly polish. Fifty percent of nail problems are caused by a fungal infection. A set of ten green tinted nails is a sign of bacteria. A set of ten yellow colored nails is a fungus. A set of tee red or purple or black colored nails is caused by clogged blood coming from an injury to the hand.

"Queen Jill was sneezing out loud like Ana during our business meeting inside the drawing room like her body had come in contact with something contagious. That something was clinging inside her nostrils too which probably came from visiting the royal cold and dark dungeon. Queen Jill was cleaning out each eardrum with an individual finger-goo of yellow ear wax and then wiping it off on the side of the baby blanket. Yucko in triplicate! Present day, an infection can be treated by any type of antibiotic, unless you are dying or you are really sick and close to death. Jon specifically said to me that yellow ear wax is the first sign. I think Jon knows what's happening here in London and there in Alabama.

"I wished that we could kidnap his ass and beat the truth out of his dick. I believe during the beauty pageant that he was bored or boasting, since he really knew who Cody was. This is a big leap, ya'll. But, some of the standing royal guards were some of the helicopter black-helmet guys that grabbed each one of us. I recognized a smelly breath and a soldierly strut. Hucks probably agrees with me. Wonder if, the golden helmet guys also were some of the royal guards here. Yeah, King Jack, Queen Jill, and Prince Jon! They are working with Brone and have captured Cody.

"Cody possesses the Jesus Strand. Brone does not. I will go alone on the diving platform for my grand dive. Queen Jill does not possess the Jesus Strand and neither does Prince Jon, only King Jack as he is the first born sibling within the noble royal family. My newest scary theory, each dead baby and every adult soldier has been infused with blood and organs coming from a set of dead folks, who all did possess the Jesus Strand and who are all dead now. But, Almighty God gets His heavenly revenge, ya'll.

"The infused dead folks look like a set of ancient cave people coming from the Ice Age. Present day, a person can be infused with any type of blood consisting of O, A, B, or AB, because we are all human and related to each other via Noah and all of Noah's descendants. Wonder if, the Jesus Strand group of people is far more health and never get sick and never needs the services of a physician ever, so each individual organ will be far more health and more viable than a sicker person to live and survive or for a royal-ass to live on forever, who does not possess the Jesus Strand. This is their prime major focus on teenager Cody, who does possess the Jesus Strand. They want both his eight pints of red blood and all the numerous healthy organs, which will kill him dead," he slowly stood in the dark with a worried brow and shuffled backwards, reaching out and found the light switch, flipping on the overhead lights.

Hucks stood upright and leaned down to assist Fern to stand next to him and then Ana in silence.

Woot reached back and opened the door in silence with a worried brow, back stepping into an empty private bedroom suit, spinning around and led back into the living room. They stopped and stood in a tight huddle.

Hucks cuddled with Fern and leaned over with a whisper into each faces. "I concur with everything that Woot's logic and story. Everyone pack your bags. We are leaving outta of here tomorrow morning with all six guns blasting up the ancient furniture, if need be."

Fern whispered with worry. "What about Cody?"

Woot frowned with worry. "We can't save Cody, if we're all dead. I have just uncovered the royal torture and torment inside the royal dungeon. This is only a playful ruse to keep us from really locating and saving the life force of Cody. We leave outta of here tomorrow for the States which is our home and then get military back up and then we all come back and find Cody."

Hucks whispered. "Woot's right. We go home and report to our boss, the President of the United States with our new working ass theory."

They nodded in silence and spun around, moving towards the private bedroom to quickly pack the luggage and not slumber with worry.

Eight hours earlier within USA

Monday September 6th (Labor Day holiday)

05:05 pm (American time)

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

with four miles per hour winds

Alabama woodlands location

Private cabin setting of Cody

Cool air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

At nine o'clock this morning, Cody had been kidnapped from the Rollins Car Dealership in the city of Huntsville, after receiving a powerful fist punch from a mysterious golden glove on the naked jaw line, passing out into unconsciousness.

A cold hand reached out and touched the face of Cody. Cody blinked opened the eyelids and stared with a gasp into a wrinkled pale tinted face of an elderly female. She sat on the edge of the bed cot with thick blankets and stared with a worried brow into the stunned face of Cody. He reached up and touched an aching cheekbone, where the golden body of a strong male had provided a violent punch with a golden glove. He whispered to her. "Who are you?"

She sobbed with tears and shifted the wrinkled hand down onto the collar bone of Cody with a soft whisper. "Help me, son! He's going to kill me. I'm your mama." The front door in the tiny room slowly opened and revealed a short male, who lifted up and aimed the cold barrel of a hand gun with a sneer at the rear skull of the blonde hair elderly female, pulling the trigger. The flying bullet hit and penetrated her calf muscle of the leg as she screamed in pain, sliding off the bed cot and hit the side wall of dried red clay mud while moving away from Cody.

Cody slid sideways and swiftly stood upright from the cot with a dizzy head, staring down at the elderly woman with confusion. The short male fired a second time and hit the back spine as the bullet went through her slender body and hit the heart organ. Then, she died on top of the wooden floor of planks in her puddle of red blood. Cody dropped open a mouth in horror and looked up with a gasp to see the unknown male. The adult male was short in body frame with a tone of dark tinted skin, a pair of brown colored eyeballs, a full beard of brown tint, and a brown colored ponytail that hang down the back spine. Cody growled with fear and fury. "Who are you?"

The male lowered down the hand gun with a smile at Cody. "I'm your daddy as the Southerns like to say." A pair of tall unknown males appeared and stood inside the archway of the tiny wooden cabin, without a facial expression. The short male with the beard and ponytail pointed down at the dead elderly woman without emotion. "Drag that thing away from me and my son and then don't return!"

Both of the tall males moved ahead with a stern face towards the dead woman. One of the males softly said, "Yes, Brone!" They stopped and squatted down, reaching out and lifted the dead woman by the four limbs, slowly moving backwards, leaving the cabin. One released her leg as it dropped down on top of the wooden porch with a loud thump. He reached out and closed the shut in silence.

Inside the tiny room, Cody pointed down at bloody spot of the dead woman on the side wall of dried mud, sitting back down in the bed cot with a dizzy head and a worried mine. "You...you killed her in cold blood."

The short male stood in place in front of the closed door with a stern face and a sour tone. "Cast it out and cast it away from here and rid the world of Satan and his demons! I killed an evil serpent. She only used and abused with her evil ways while keeping me entertained with your slight whereabouts. I have warned her time and time again about teasing my humor, because I don't possess a humor." He slightly grinned.

Cody turned and scanned the tiny room. The four walls were composed of red colored dried mud and were all bear naked, without one single piece of artwork. The high ceiling was made of freshly cut lumber. There was not a single windows or a set of pretty curtains. There was only the sleeping bed cot with pile of soft blankets and one hard sitting chair without a single eating table. He turned and stared down at the red blood stain of the dead woman on top of the wooden planks and returned back to see Brone with a laugh in the face of the danger terrorist. "Give up all your possessions and then you will be allowed into heaven. I heard that you stole all the earthly possessions from Antebellum House which were centuries old antiques. And you have taken the twelve stones that came from the Ark of the Covenant..."

"What good are earthly possessions in heaven, son?" Brone moved ahead towards the single chair and stared with a smile Cody, sitting down.

Cody sat upright in the cot with a grin. "Woe unto you! You are a serpent that cannot escape the damnation of hell."

"There will come many false prophets to deceive the many peoples."

"I sent you in as a flock of innocent sheep among the hungry wolves, so you learn to be wise as a snake and harmless as a dove." Cody smiled.

"Provide neither gold or silver nor brass in your purse."

"If a house is worthy, then enter. If the house is not worthy, then leave it."

"Do not go to the city, but preach about heaven to the lost sheep."

"The workman is worthy of his supper meal."

Brone nodded with a smile. "You should not murder. Don't worship false god, before Almighty God."

Cody smiled. "The sun darkens. The moon shines with no illuminated light. The stars fall down from heaven. Brother Jesus comes down from heaven and all the twelve tribes will see Him in great glory as He leads all the angels with the sound of a loud trumpet. You have been stealing the twelve stones, Brone."

Brone shook a ponytail with a smile. "Is Brother Jesus coming today or tomorrow or next week or next year, son? I can't answer that particular question, since I'm not a warlock or a vampire or a werewolf or an angel or a demon. I am only a man with an impossible mission."

Cody sneered. "Your mission is complete. You got all the twelve stones and the Ark of the Covenant and the souls of the dead..."

"The Ark of the Covenant will be used to fend against the Antichrist. Did you believe that Almighty God has provided us with a set of supernatural tools for our protection too? Naw! He did not. The humans would have destroyed each other and the planet long before now."

Cody slowly stood upright from the cot and moved sideways away from the cot, tossing both arms into the air with a sour frown, "Gawd. This all makes sense now. You are the Antichrist. My daddy is the Antichrist."

Brone continued to sit in the chair and shook a ponytail with a laugh. "I am sorry to disappoint you, son. I am preparing for the coming of the Antichrist. I do not possess a set of supernatural powers, Cody. I am flesh and blood like you. I have a set of yellow teeth, a head of brown hair with lots of gray strands. I have a pair of brown eyes, not blue. I'm short unlike you, son. What are the duties of the Antichrist?"

"The Antichrist will pretend to be the real Christ."

Brone leaned back into the wooden chair with a smile. "Brother Jesus warns all to us. Be careful! The Antichrist will come and deceive you. Wars will come causing nation versus nation, kingdom versus kingdom which will be coupled with an array of lovely famines, beautiful pestilences, and awesome earthquakes. Then, all these things must come to pass beginning the sorrows, but it is not the end. There will be afflictions, killings, hatred, betrayal, cold loving. If you endure all the sorrow, then you will leave here and go up into heaven. Cody, I am building an army of children to endure all the wars plus the sad sorrows which foretells the coming of the Antichrist. We best fight against the evil rather than the good children of Jesus."

Cody frowned with confusion. "I don't understand you, my dead mother, my live father, my devoted friends, my weird-ass life..."

"I fall back on the words of the Holy Bible for guidance, when I am troubled, son. The Pharisees and Sadducees came to Brother Jesus. They wanted to test Him and then asked Brother Jesus to show them a sign that came from heaven. However, Brother Jesus said to them, 'when evening comes, the weather foretells the coming sky. In the morning, the weather will be stormy for the sky will be red and overcast. You know how to interpret the appearance of the sky, but you cannot interpret the signs of the times. A wicked and adulterous generation looks for a sign, but none will be given it, except for the sign of Jonah.' Then, Brother Jesus walked away from both the Pharisees and Sadducees. This comes from the Book of Matthew, chapter sixteen, verses one through four.

"The creation of God's world is invisible like His eternal power and His divine nature. There is no hard evidence, that a person can see or hear or touch of God, but He does exist here inside your heart and your mind and your soul, if you let Him inside. During the Biblical times, the church temples had been operated by the priests, who denied information down to the people. There were the money collectors, who stole all the gold coins for payment of food, clothing, and shelter. Brother Jesus became very angry and then destroyed some of the vendor booths inside the church temple. Mankind is both greedy and selfness, who believe in an array of material possessions. This is why I have established the humblebee camp for all the humble bodies, not the busy bodies." He smiled.

Cody turned and frowned down at the blood stain on the floor. "You killed the old woman in cold blood."

He turned and stared down at the blood stain on the wooden floor too. "God asks us to pray every day to rid the world of Satan and all of the evil of Satan. She was one of his evil followers. Yes. I killed her, but her soul was not here. She is in hell now with Satan. But, I believe in reincarnation of the evil, not the good. Therefore, she will be back here on planet Earth, but I will protect you from her."

Cody turned and shook a bald head at Brone. "You sound like a crazy person, Daddy."

Brone laughed. "These are crazy times for the brothers and sisters of Christ. You must choose in your heart on an hourly basis to love God or love God's treasures. Cody, I believe in Almighty God and Brother Jesus. I can't prove that Almighty God or Brother Jesus exist in physical form, except within my heart and my mind and my soul."

Cody nodded with a smile. "In the Book of Ephesians, chapter two, verses eight through nine, it says that 'faith is a gift, not attained by human effort.' King David got it right with his faith. Faith is a belief in things that are unseen. No one enters heaven by default. When you die, Almighty God will judge by your heart. Every man or woman is born with a conscience and knows the difference between good and evil. Almighty God judges the intentions of your heart. 'Don't worry about the dirt on your hands but worry more about the dirt inside your heart' which was lectured by Brother Jesus.'"

He nodded with a grin. "America was founded as the new hope for the world with the solo value of Almighty God. In the year 1789, George Washington and the members of Congress walked down to the street corner church, after his inauguration in New York City while stopping and praying for the newly formed freed nation on planet Earth. Ground Zero is right next door to that church. Nobody learns the history lesson or the Bible lesson as man continues a personal quest for something better. As far as I know, the Bible scriptures could be a lie of both heaven and God. A good example, you can follow historically the evolution of man and womankind coming from a damp enclosed stone cave and moving into a heated luxury wooden house. Man works and struggles for his precious material possessions and yet a rolling car can murder a woman or a roaming cancer cell can kill a man."

Cody exhaled with worry. "Do you think Almighty God is sitting back inside the rocking chair and laughing at us for our failures?"

He exhaled with worry. "No! I don't think Almighty God is laughing. I believe that He is crying for the salutation of all His children. This is my goal to make a life for His children and make it easier for Him. Is that not the purpose of us to serve our Creator? The church in past and present has remained power hungry for both money and prestige. Look at all the numerous television programs that proclaim the birth, the life, and the death of Brother Jesus! The church knows the truths and the lies which are sealed and locked up in some dusty old underground vault underneath an old cold and dank church dungeon."

Cody laughed. "Did you also take and kidnap the local preacher-man for that confession, Daddy?"

"I didn't do it today." He laughed. "The medieval document which is called the Bible has been as they say scrubbed quite a bit from the original content. I find it every entertaining, that a scientist has a driven desire to discover all the hidden material treasures underneath the soil like all or most of the ancient artifacts that is mentioned within the context of the Holy Bible, such like, the Ark boat, the Ark chest, the Ark scrolls. The scientists somehow find unlimited time to waste upon speculation and argument about each ancient artifact among themselves with each biblical topic instead of helping all the suffering humans and animals with the plight of poverty, sickness, and malady." He shook a ponytail.

Cody shook a bald skull with a puzzled brow. "Are you saying here that there is not a God above our skull looking out for all the suffering humans and animals?"

Brone looked with a stern face at Cody. "Do you believe that you carry the eighteenth genetic chromosome which only comes from Brother Jesus?"

Cody gasped and then exhaled with a huff of worry. "I saw my DNA strand which was very different from other people there at the school in the rural town of Leed. Yes, I do believe that."

He nodded with a smile. "Good! So, do I. Remember? You only need to entertain your mind and your heart with the desires of peace, love, and joy that is Almighty God. Be a good boy! Help each human and every animal which brings forth a life of heavenly joy in His kingdom. Be a bad boy! You live for only your selfish selfie and then take a chance of life inside the permanent hellish misery with your new boss-man Satan inside his permanent homeland of Hades."

Cody looked down with a sign at both hands and then up with a worried brow to see Brone. "Daddy, I know the truth now. You are building an army of warriors, who possess the Jesus Strand for all types of evil doings..."

"The birth of a child comes only from a virgin."

"What?" Cody gasped in alarm.

Brone smiled. "I finally got your attention, son. What is the first and greatest commandment that comes from the Holy Bible?"

"Love God with your heart, your soul, and your mind," Cody grinned with a nod.

"These three conditions represent the heart, the mind, and the soul. What is happening to the human mind, the human heart, and the human soul, right now, present day, at the moment?" Brone exhaled with a puff of disappointment of man and woman-kind.

Cody laughed. "Some of the naughtier human minds coupled with their human bodies are self-absorbed in all type of naked porn in a book, on television, in a movie, on the computer within the office, in the living room, in the bedroom, in the bathroom..."

"Love thy neighbor as thy self! Isn't that the jest of the statement?"

Cody laughed. "Some folks interpret that totally different like lay both your greedy hands upon all the available treasures of the planet and forget all about heaven," exhaling. "Who are you really, Daddy? What are you really, Daddy?"

He exhaled with a huff of disappointment. "Cody, you were sentenced to serve your teen years at a work farm in the pig town of Etta within the US State of Alabama. I know some of your background information which has come to me in pieces like a jigsaw puzzle. I have sorted and sequenced your life as best as I could, son. At the work farm..."

Cody tossed both hands into the air with an angry brow. "You were stalking and spying on me back then. I knew it. I saw you. You were hiding within the depths of the woodlands on that farm property in Morrison in the central part of Alabama. Then you murdered the entire Ashmore family inside the small cottage on Hawk's farm ranch. I was right there with them. The only surviving Ashmore from the church murders, Ashley was completely paranoid about her own assassin. Guess, I would be too, if you were trying to kill me. I spent hours hunting and tracking down every boo-sound, knocking on each concrete blocks inside that tiny farm cottage."

"The building was not a cozy farm cottage for some social fun time hours, Cody. The bunker has a set of four concrete walls with one viewing window in the front of the house. Do you remember the layout of the tiny farm cottage in the city of Morrison, son?"

Cody turned with a huff to see the mud wall and as his mind flashed backward in time.

The tiny farm cottage in the rural town of Morrison had been decorated with a flat level front porch which contained one single room with a U-shaped hallway.

Cody had ventured outside to investigate the sound, after Amber had heard it and then exhibited both panic and paranoid.

Then he had walked around the exterior landscape of the tiny cottage and then returned back to face the front porch while hearing a set of faint voices inside the cottage.

Cody had crawled over the concrete front porch and moved towards a single external window pane, lifting up the hair roots over the pane and viewed with a pair or eyeballs into the clean glass. All the employees from the US Marshals branch office had been located inside the house. Then he had heard some of the conversation behind the glass window.

Rob had shouted out loud next to his wife, his grown children, his grandchildren inside the cottage. "Where's Cody? Find that kid now!"

Ashley had stood in the middle of the tiny room and wore that missing Starlit crown with a single shiny emerald gem stone that went missing from the dining room cabinet at her home.

Then, Cody had heard the twigs, breaking with a set of tiny cracks and echoes of faint voices.

He had back stepped from the window and crawled backward in secret, stopping and hid underneath the old farm tractor in the red dirt, when the cottage had exploded into a fireball of colors.

The old farm tractor had been hit coming from numerous large and small bomb fragments that were pieces of the concrete blocks that came from the cottage, when two heavy iron parts fell down on top of his legs and his chest.

Then, Cody had passed out from the pain and the blood.

Inside the tiny wooden cottage setting, Cody returned back with a confused brow to see Brone. "Okay. Yes, the cottage appeared sorta like a bunker with four solid walls of concrete blocks. What about your appearance there at Antebellum House building on the second floor? I was there too. I saw you. I saw your ponytail and your back spine. But I was ordered not to chase after you. Someone else was trailing behind your butthole, sir."

Brone nodded. "You were the only child of a local farmer, who enjoyed playing sports, fucking whores, and having a good time as a teen-ass at the local high school. Maybe, you dreamed of playing football at one of the local colleges while getting a college degree. One hot September evening night, it of that changed in a split-second. Your dad had killed your mom. The local judge appeared at your house and convicted you as an adult of beating the red blood out of your dad's face. Then, you were immediately tried and sentenced to the work farm in the small rural town of Ettaville at the age of sixteen years old..."

Cody exhaled with a huff of frustration. "Why didn't you come and find me, there in Ettaville, sir?"

"Your biological mother told me about your existence, after she gave you away for adoption. She wasn't a good person, much less a good motherly figure. She provided the birth adoption immediately and then ran into that woman, whom I just executed a few minutes ago here inside the cabin. The dead woman killed your biological mother, Cody. I am so sorry, son. You keep finding out the bad truth, too late. The dead woman provided a set of tiny bits of information about your person for a large amount of money. Son, I do not have money or a banking account."

Cody dropped open a mouth in shock while remembering the current facts of each murder case.

Skippy had been a billionaire, in secret, too, who had proposed that Brone was a billionaire, maybe a trillionaire in secret also. The murderer and terrorist named Brone had been receiving all the bank monies coming from numerous deceased billionaires and millionaires that he had murdered there at Antebellum House while he continued to live and travel around the world for fun and torment.

Inside the tiny cottage, Brone nodded with a stern face, "How convenient! You were there at Antebellum House, too. How convenience, again! I was there at Antebellum House, too. And how convenient, also! We did not meet there at Antebellum House. I am not the bad villain within the fairy tale, Cody."

Cody exhaled with a deep sigh in silence. He had worked as a teen undercover student with the other members consisting of Islander Fucner, Yorkie, and Skippy. Then murderer and terrorist Brone had killed all of his team members in cold-blooded murder, without mercy or explanation.

And then Cody had seen the back spine and the long brown colored ponytail on Brone that night inside the hallway Antebellum House. Brone had continued to stroll down the beau garconniere as Fucner had been tailing the terrorist also.

Inside the tiny cottage, Brone continued to stand with a worried brow and a soft timber. "I have never been arrested, convicted, sentenced, or hung by the neck muscles to suffocate into death, Cody. I am an American, too. And I was born here within the US State of Alabama. I thought American justice was innocence, before proven guilty plus the right to a speedy trial of your peer group. Your biological mother died without my knowledge too. She had been replaced with that dead woman, who possessed an ugly heart which was attached to a pretty face. That woman blackmailed me for riches, while providing tidbits of information about you, son. I believed her while thinking you were an exact duplicate of my person. I'm short with a long brown colored ponytail, and a pair of brown eyes," he reached up and brushed a full beard with a smile at Cody. "A set of scruffy dusted whiskers, a pair of comfortable worn cowboy boots, a pair of old worn jeans, it seems my son and I have a few things in common. I'm dark tanned from the years in the hot sun. I am your daddy. You are my son."

"How is this all true, sir?" Cody frowned with puzzlement.

Brone lifted up the hand in the air and stretched out each digit near a smile. "You possess a hitch hiker's thumb, where only ten percent of the entire human population exhibits this inherited trait coming from one biological parent," he pointed down to the hand of Cody with a nod.

Cody gasped in alarm at the formation of a hitch hiker's thumb on Brone and lifted up the hand, spreading the digits. He saw a hitch hiker's thumb on his own hand with a smile in silence.

He flipped the hand into the air with a smile and dropped down, slapping his pair of faded, worn blue jeans. "I was there at Antebellum House with you. The dead woman had provided too many hints which allowed me to figure out her next plot. She had hired a duplicate of me, who was tall in frame, like you, and exhibited a ponytail of brown colored hair, without the gray strands, like me. He also stalked your whereabouts for both fun and meanness, unlike me. Modern electronics are really a liability, son," he winked with a grin at Cody. "I tracked your stationary position with great luck. However, I was going to find and kidnap you by using the wrong physical description that came from that dead elderly woman. Alas! I do not find your physical description within my eyeballs while walking around the campus property there at Antebellum House. So, I secretly found and accessed one of the desk computers within the mainframe computer system and then I found something better. I found a copy of your electronic medical chart in the computer. Each student was required to pass a medical examination. The physician was very good at documenting every single medical and genetic trait for the academic staff members there at Antebellum House. I found you by searching for a fhitchhiker's genetic thumb trait which was our genetic genes share while scooping around inside the computer files and then I uncovered your fake student name, Sterling Pierce. Once I had..."

Cody whipped both palms in the air with puzzlement, "Wait! Wait! Wait!"

He gasped. "What is wrong, Cody? I am your father. You are my son."

Cody dropped both hands and slapped his pair of dirty jeans, exhaling with confusion. "Yeah, I understand that. How? I didn't understand this. There, at Antebellum House, you were discovered or found out, when I was there also. Did you know that?"

He gasped again. No, I did not."

"So, how come the US Federal Government agents and agencies and war soldiers had not come here and got your person and the row of cottages and the camp fire girls, and all the other colonists? Is the USA government coming soonest, right now, or tomorrow morning? Will you be gone from my life again, tomorrow morning? How come you are here and not in jail somewhere? I mean I am working for the US Federal Government and I am trying to find you. I mean, the other Brone, who is not you. I mean that I was told that I am the son of Brone. And I am so confused, Dad."

He frowned. "Who told you that secret information? No one knows but me and that dead woman. You are the son of Brone."

"My friend is a military man. He had come to collect me from my fake grandmother's house and protected me from the other Brone. After the bloody massacre of so many young and mature life at Antebellum House, the US Federal Government conducted a set of genetics tests and then discovered that my father, my mother, and my grandmother were not my biological relatives. But, you were there at Antebellum house, before the other Brone. I didn't see the face on the other Brone. My friend rescued me from the evil Brone. But, Brone was there and murdered all my friends and killed my..." Cody exhaled with a set of teenly mixed sad emotions for his dead friends. "Anyways, there at Antebellum house, you used the desktop computer and they collected your hair strands. They didn't know who you were either. One of my co-workers spotted you buzzing around the computer room. He stole your hair strands..."

Brone laughed with a nod. "That was very careless of me."

Cody gasped in shock. "What! What was careless of you?"

He nodded with a grin. "Yes, I was there inside the computer room. The school campus was crawling with pods of military type soldiers who were disguised as workers. You can tell by their corn-cob stance and rude manners. So I had slipped on a pair of working clothes and moseyed around the campus sweeping up dead tree leaves and tiny dried branch twigs over the manicured lawn. Then, I slowly moseyed into the computer room with a cold bottle of water. After I had found your personal student information in the computer, I left the room. But, the opened bottle of cold water had stayed behind. I had forgotten to carry it with me back to my car. Then I had left the campus without trouble or arrest. I suspect the US Federal Government had tested my mouth spit from the wet rim and then it matched your DNA genes like magic."

Cody gasped in fear. "O no! O no! No! No! No! My friends work for the US Federal Government and they are very good. The USA government is coming here, right now, and will take you away from me. We must run and hide. We must go someplace else, Dad."

"No, Cody!" Brone reached out and touched his arms, shaking his ponytail with a smile. "No, Cody! Don't worry! I am safe. You are safe too. We are all safe," he dropped his arms and slapped the dirty pair of jeans creating a ball of dirt in the air. The ball of dirt drifted up into his face as he coughed out loud and then chuckled.

Cody gasped. "How is that possible, Dad? You're my biological father. I was told that. And I just learned of your existence, a couple of days ago. I don't want anything to happen to you, sir."

He nodded with a grin. "No, Cody! I am very safe within this place of woodlands here."

"How is that even possible, Dad?"

"Well, I have been living here in the woodlands and off the grid of society and out of the USA government spy eyes for decades and decades and decades. The US Federal Government leaves us alone. And we leave them alone. And I bet my social security number has been given to any person already. I suspect that your friends could not give you a full name or a city address, could they?" Cody frowned in silence. Brone smiled. "Your friends tested the two different genetic samples that came from me and from you, which matched the biological son to the biological father. However, you only saw the other Brone up close and personal during a terrible crisis. Sometimes, the mind does not work well during a terrible crisis."

"But my other friends had seen the other Brone along with me."

"And your friends had seen the other Brone that matched my physical description, sorta. Then, they tested my genes against your genes which matched me perfectly. So, they came to right conclusion with the wrong Brone. Does that make sense, son?"

Cody frowned. "No!"

Brone laughed. "Once I had your fake student name at Antebellum, I could hack into any computer system, finding your real name Cody Mack..."

Cody frowned. "How can you do that, Dad? You do not seem to be the computer nerd."

He laughed. "I am not. Some of the younger colonists are the true pod of computer nerds. I recruited their assistance with the computers in town. We don't have computers out here. Then, they were able to trace your whereabouts around the metro city of Huntsville and then spotted you at the Miss Lily beauty pageant, using your new physical attributes coming from the Antebellum House computer. Then, you were being protected by that team of US military soldiers, so I could not grab and get you away from these trained and armed US soldiers. I continued to track you down to the car dealership and then pounced upon your person..."

"Wait!" Cody shook his bald skull and exhaled with a worried brow, waving both of his hands in the air. "You didn't pounce on me there in the parking lot at the car dealership company. If so, I'd have whipped your ass," he laughs.

"Yes, I recruited some of the taller and stronger colonists for my fatherly deed."

Cody frowned. "I thought this place and these people lived peacefully with joy and harmony. It sounds like you're hiding an army of talented people here in the woodlands. Are you going to overtake the US Federal Government? No that it doesn't need new leadership," laughing.

Brone smiled. "No. I have my plans or desires or interests in overtaking over the US Federal Government. And every person here really cares and wants to help each other as the Holy Bible states through peaceful and talented skills. At the car dealership parking lot, when the situation erupted deadly wrong with the pod of golden bodies and their non-golden colored guns, my young and strong team of warriors grabbed you and then brought you back here for both protection and safety, son. The other shared information for your eardrums, Antebellum House was a haven for all the kids that possessed the Jesus Strand."

Cody gasped in shock. "How do you know about the Jesus Strand?"

He slapped his chest with a smile. "I possess the Jesus Strand, too, and with you, also, son. Your biological mother did not understand my reasoning. We were very young and innocent. I married and brought her out here into the wilderness for both of our protection for each human that carries and possesses the Jesus Strand. She was very unhappy and then fled away from me and the forest colony, without my knowledge of her escape and her pregnancy of your growing fetus."

Cody dropped open a mouth with a gasp. "You didn't go after her."

Brone exhaled with a puff of disappointment. "I was very young and innocent also. And I did not know about your physical existence, son. I was in charge of the colony. I was up early that morning, when I returned back for our last afternoon meal, she was missing out from our cabin. That was eighteen years ago, Cody. The modern mobile telephone was in its infancy and very expensive, which was not owned by a lot of people, only mostly a set of business people. We were living in the middle of the wilderness back then and present now. I am so sorry about all this that has happened to you. We sent out a scouting party to go and find my wife, who was your mother. But, she had back fled into the city of Birmingham. I continued to hunt for your mother, who was my wife."

Cody shook both hands and a bald skull with a smile. "Okay, Dad! You are certifiable crazy. Why would you pursue a woman, who didn't love you or maybe feared your person and your colony?"

"Why did Almighty God allow a man to have more than one legally married wife?"

Cody laughed with a nod, "For his fun fucking!"

"Males! When the male knew that he was a child of Jesus, he would produce another child of Jesus with numerous virgin wives, spreading the love quite literally," he chuckled with Cody.

"He enjoyed extreme fun fucking action." Cody laughed again.

"I wanted your mother safe. Our fight is with the Antichrist, son. I have missed led you. I am not building an army of warriors. I am building a community of humble bees," Brone smiled.

"Humble bees? What is a humble bee? I have heard of a bumblebee. It is an insect." Cody grinned.

"A bumblebee stings, if provoked, especially, if you stomp down on top of the flying insect and then it will punch a toe with its non-lethal stinger tip which really stings. Excuse the pun!"

Cody chuckled. "Been there, done that! My big toe hurt for days."

"A colony of bumble bees sting; a community of humble bees pray. That is really the technically difference between the two nouns."

"How do you recruit a humble bee, Daddy?"

"Brother Jesus," Brone smiled.

Cody gasped with a smile. "Okay. That's a clever answer, Dad!" He turned and scanned tiny cabin with a puzzled brow. "So, each one of you live here inside a log cabin within the forest wilderness like a colony of humble bees. Did a humble bee make that set of ugly curtains over each dirty window pane? Someone ain't really talented with a dull needle and a spool of beige thread."

He laughed. "Brother Jesus is the correct answer, Cody. Naw, son! That set of ugly curtains came from a bargain wholesale store within the city of Birmingham. We live near the town of Jasper within the US State of Alabama which is smack in the middle of two big metro cities with an assortment of pretty good cheap house goods, body clothing, and food shopping. Sit back and relax on top of that small cot bed, Cody! I have a lot to tell you, son.

"I guess that I will start with my overall appearance. Most of the males possess a full beard, mostly to annoy a married wife for fun. Each male that can't get away with a full beard because of an annoying married wife displays a clean shaven face. Yes. We purchase a package of sharp razors for the males and the ladies. No. We don't cook up a bar of soap for bathing like a caveman. We go to the retail or warehouse stores in one or both cities. All the females possess a head of long hair, wear no makeup products on a pretty face but they do apply lotion sunscreen from the bright sunshine here within the wilderness, and wear a hat kinda like the old western days. The cabins are all hand built with love. The architecture is simply and ugly but functional in the cold winters and hot summers while keeping the bugs outside. The roof is rigged with a set of solar panels coming from our smart humble bees, who are engineers. The humble bees come from all walks of life, if I dare use that term. And they come from all cities around the US State of Alabama.

"Each US State has some type of a single humble bee camp with a few devoted families. We own a mobile telephone and a television screen for bad weather reports only. Bama is bad with a series of tornadoes in the springtime, so we watch out for that. We hadn't had to evacuate from our cabins, yet. We don't really advertise about the single mobile telephone or the lonely television for a smart teenager to find.

"The young people go to school and learn a trade. The older adults teach school and a trade. Learning and reading about the past world history is important along with a set of useful scientific skills for our everyday life. We raise our crops for food. We till our crop fields with modern day equipment that keeps the teens working and figuring out how the farm equipment functions. We buy our clothing in the store.

"Each family receives an allotment of clothing and then they will wear them and then hand them down to the younger children. We don't waste a single resource even it is a pair of ripped blue jeans like mine. You can see my array of colored patches between the original fabric threads of the old blue jeans. I love these jeans. They're tough and rough like me. When I finally tear them up with too many holes, I get a used pair of blue jeans coming from my neighbor or my friend down the road of log cabins. We have animals for food too. We kill the animal for meat and then collect a set of white packages coming from the local slaughter house down the roadside.

"We sell the animal hides and fur for money and then buy staple items, such like, flour, sugar, salt, and gasoline. Each cabin has electricity which we pay for. We're living out here in the rural country, not roughing it like a pack of hungry wolves," he chuckled.

"We teach our kids honor, honestly, and respect of God's values and ethics. We're certified by the State of Alabama as a school site, since the US Federal government won't leave us be, if we didn't. Even though, our own US Constitution does stress the complete separation of nosy federal government and the free state of religion. We're safe in here. The locals know about our colony and leave us alone. And we leave them alone. Modern day folks are just trying to make it in the modern day world of stress, distress, and danger too. We don't go around preaching or teaching about Brother Jesus to anybody but us. Some folks don't wanna hear it or see you, so we let them be too.

"We do our own thing out here. We are happy about that our there. Our colony is very small about shy of hundred people. There are about thirty families too. I can't say for certain, if we're growing or not. We rise early with our family ritual and then get to the colony business, making the day and night go by quick and then time for bedtime. Each person is happy out here. I believe that it's our genes," he winked with a chuckle at Cody.

"Now, you have found me. I am happy. Now, you have a decision to make, son. You can live out here within the wilderness with me. You can live without me and not here. I truly hope that you pick living with me. But, either way, I am very happy to find you, son. You don't have to decide right now. Why don't you stay and stick around and talk to some of the colonists or humble bees? Brother Jesus preaches about living your life on the planet as one of God's children. Be humble. Be happy. Brother Jesus has predicted the past, the present, and all the future wars and famines and pestilences and ground shakes and then He says to endure it all, Cody. The last person standing will receive Him and His world which is heaven. We all must endure the sorrows of evil and then survive the pleasure of kindness," Brone nodded with a stern face.

Cody exhaled with a huff of mixed feeling. "I know that also."

"Who rules a nation of people, Cody?"

"A nation of people is ruled by the head of state like a president, a prime minister, a chancellor."

"Who rules a kingdom of people, Cody?"

"A kingdom of people is ruled by a royal family like a king and his queen."

Brone nodded with a stern face. "King Jack and Queen Jill, the string of words sound like part of a nursery rhyme, where I had heard from a silly child's book as a young toddler."

Cody gasped in shock and turned to see the wall with all the mental thoughts and then back to see Brone. "It can't be so!"

"I am afraid it can be so! They are a pair of false prophets among the lost sheep of people. We, humble bees know of them and stay away from them, Cody."

"Dad!" Cody returned back with fear while learning too many bad secrets. He needed to immediately find and locate his set of new friends, consisting of Woot, Fern, and Hucks, who were searching and praying for his safety over their own lives.

Brone swiftly stood upright from the chair with a smile. "The common denominations of adultery, fornication, idolatry, hatred, wrath, strife, gossip, envy, murder, drunkenness, and vanity are all the hellish sins of evil Satan. If you lead a human life with just one of these sins, then you do not go up into heaven, but straight down into the hell pit with your new friend Satan. The common denominators of love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, and temperance are all the virtues of Brother Jesus, which is a nice ticket into lovely and peaceful heaven. Let us do good unto all men, women, and children, who are of the house of faith! I will say to you, Cody. I love you, but I have missed knowing you as a young lad. But now, I have found you. I realize it will take time for you to acknowledge me as your biological father. I accept that, so I will say to you, good evening, Cody. You need to rest from the impact bruise into your face that scrambled your neurons. You received a mild concession. You have been catnapping all day long. That was not one of my humble bees. That was one of the other Brone's men. But, don't worry! I told care of him too," he spun around with a smile and moved ahead towards the closed door, reaching out for the door knob.

"Good evening, sir," Cody stood upright from the bed cot with a fake smile while feeling better his real father and his real bruised cheekbone.

Brone left the tiny cabin room as the entrance door closed shut with a tiny creak.

Cody turned and scanned the tiny, single room of fresh pine wood that represented the entire cabin with a nod and a smile. "I'm safe. They are not," he dashed ahead towards the closed door and reached out, touching the knob with a sigh of worry, twisting the wrist bone. The door cracked open.

Individual bright beams of moonlight illuminated all the red soil only.

Cody didn't see a posted guard from his father or a set of family members, who were strolling around the colony and then back stepped from the night air with a grin and gently shut the door with a nod.

Cody had decided to escape, before the light of dawn, like his biological mother, from the peaceful and unarmed humble bee colony. Then, he would track down and rescue his friends Woot, Ana, Fern, and Hucks, since his friends were in grave danger from King Jack, Queen Jill, and Prince Jon right now.

He spun around and moved ahead with a stern face, stopping and resting on top of the small bed cot, closing the eyelids for sleep. Tomorrow would be a very busy day for a rescue.
Tuesday September 7th

Cool temperatures with cloudy sky of little sunshine

08:08 am (London time)

Royal palace location

4th floor level

Shared chamber suite

Woot, Ana, Fern, her baby, and Hucks

Man-made cold air temperatures without light bulbs

The four adults exited the shared chamber suit and stood in a huddle in the middle of the hallway.

Woot dropped down a set of luggage pieces for him and Ana, standing upright and grabbed out, holing her hand with worry in silence.

Fern stood next to Woot and cuddled the baby, turning to stare with a worried brow at her husband Hucks. "How in the hell are we walking out of here? The royals will get suspicious and then call..."

"The baby is sick and Ana is sick. Cough for me, Ana!" Hucks turned and winked at Ana. Ana slapped a hand over the parted lips with a rough girly cough and then a giggle of amusement.

The mobile telephone rang out loud with a country musical song. Woot reached down and pulled out the mobile telephone, reading the telephone number with a frown. "What's this? It is a wrong number," he swished the decline ion on the ringing phone and then it silenced.

Hucks frowned. "Who was calling you, Woot?"

The mobile telephone rang for a second time. Woot lifted the phone near the eyeballs and stared at the same telephone number with a frown and then a growl. "It is the same number which is my internet that is calling me on my own mobile telephone for some weird ass reason. It is a fucking joke, ya'll."

Hucks frowned. "How is that possible for your internet service to call your mobile telephone, Woot? I don't understand the technology."

Woot pointed the ringing mobile telephone with a stern face. "This telephone number is used by my computer to hook into the internet at my house on a telephone landline. Some smart ass hacker has jacked into my internet telephone number, probably ringing up a mess of international charges on my American phone bill too," he shook a skull with a sneer.

Fern giggled with a grin. "Answer the tele, Woot! See if you can curse out that smartass on your own mobile telephone?" She laughed with the others.

The mobile telephone continued to ring as Woot continued to see the ringing number with a sneer, "Fine!" He swiped the icon on the tiny screen and jerked the phone into the face with a growl, "Hey, dumb ass! Ya betta not," he gasped, "Cody, where are you located, buddy? Gawd! We have been worried sick to our stomachs, vomiting up a set of matching green puke..."

He paused and listened to Cody on the other end of the mobile telephone.

"You are located inside my place in Bama."

Pause.

"Wait a minute here! Why are you inside my place in Bama? Cody, are you drugged up with pot or stoned with stones or drunk with beer? How in the hell did you get into my place, Cody?"

Pause.

"You entered the door, after you shot the shit out of the metal lock with your hand gun on my choo-choo train. I'm coming to you and for you, Cody. I'm leaving this foreign country right now on the US military fight jet plane in about thirty minutes, so you sit tight inside my place. And, there is to be no fucking girls inside my man cave. Or I'm beat your ass with my alligator belt like a hillbilly redneck rather than shake your hand like a southern gentleman," Woot sneered on the phone, when the phone disappeared from his hand.

Ana slammed the tiny screen of Woot's mobile telephone into her smile. "Cody, dear, this is Ana. We are very happy that your person is all right. Please stay put, sweetheart! Don't move your tall bones! Hucks will beat up Woot for you, darling. I promise you that. Look! We are on our way by jet plan, honey. And please fix the metal lock and bolt that door tight for protection and safety. Bye-bye, Cody!" She handed the phone back to Woot with a grin and a nod.

Woot jerked the phone from her hand with a sneer and then swiped the icon of the telephone, killing the electronic signal, looking up to see Hucks with a grin and a nod. "Good news! Cody is found. Great news! Cody is healthy. Bad news! Cody is inside my place all alone with a set of very loud rock and roll musical song playing in the background of my private bedroom. Worse news! Cody is fucking..."

Ana reached over and patted the arm of Woot with a smile, "Woot, darling!"

Woot turned with a sneer and narrowed the eyelids in the far distance at the threesome of royals. "O. The company is here."

Ana grinned with a nod, "Woot, we are the company in here."

Woot smiled. "Not anymore! We go back to the USSR, wrong song. We go back to the good old US of A, the safest place on the planet, where one of our many military base holds hundreds of semi-automatic weapons in the hand of a semi-automatic pissed off US military soldier who is looking to kill off and extinguish a small village of crazy terrorists..."

Hucks moved ahead and hugged Fern, toting their set of luggage, stepping down the stairs with a smile, "Right-o, duckie."

Woot turned with a smile and leaned down, tenderly kissing the lips of Ana, pulling back with a wink. He reached down and grabbed the two pieces of luggage with one hand, standing upright and reached out, grabbed her hand. They moved behind the back spine of Hucks and Fern, slowly stepping down the stairs, greeting the royals this early morning with a fake smile and a good escape plan.

They followed the royals back into the drawing room on the ground floor for a new day of discussion meetings.

08:15 am

First floor drawing room setting

Man-made cold air temperatures without light bulbs

Hucks moved ahead and stopped, reaching out, pulling out a chair for Fern and the baby. She sat down with a fake smile. He leaned down with a whisper into her eardrum. "How we are going to play this game now, Fern?" She looked down with a smile at the baby.

Woot moved behind Hucks and stopped, reaching out, pulling out a chair for Fern. She sat down with a fake smile to see each royal. He slid down into the chair and leaned over with a fake smile and a whisper into the cheekbone of Hucks. "Follow my lead, man! Then, we will be jetting over the Atlantic Ocean, landing in back home in Bama, eating a messy lunch on Woot's train inside my fabby man cave and then listening to Cody's long-winded demon tale of his capture and then his escape from an evil terrorist nicknamed Brone." He sat upright in the chair and stared at Jack with a fake smile.

Jack smiled to each American. "Good morning! We have a long list of items to accomplish, before nightfall..."

Woot swiftly stood upright with a smile and tossed both arms into the air, slapping them down onto the pair of ripped and faded blue jeans. "I got a new item. Think this! Almighty God created the earth and the man, meaning a man and a woman. His second born son and daughter, do you get it? Jesus is His first born son. So, that makes Adam his second born son and Eve is His first born daughter. Isn't that right? Yeah, right! I wonder, if the Virgin Mary is concerned His first born daughter too, since she birthed the first born Son..."

Jill stared with a British stern face at Woot without her infant baby girl. "How is this related to our present situation, Woot?"

Woot tossed both hands into the air again with a smile, "Just a sec, darling!" He slapped both the hands back down onto the pair of ripped blue jeans again with a chuckle. "So, Adam and Eve fucked up and ate the damn red pretty apple and then got kicked out of paradise while pissing Almighty God off. Then, the world fucked each other and multiplied over and over again while producing more of His blessed kids. The blessed kids did some naughty stuff like fucking and licking each other's body parts and then performed a set of Satan worshipping..."

"Woot!" Ana reached over and slapped the arm of Woot with a smile.

Woot lifted up both hands with a nod and a chuckle from the table and waved them around in the air. "Wait for it! I'm on a roll, darling. Okay! Almighty God got pissed off again and then flooded the world with tons of yucky seawater. Every male, female, child, teen, mammal, bullfrog, and bug died, but good ole boy Noah. Goody-two-shoes Noah has three goody-good sons and a set of matching daughters-in-law. The children fucked each other, creating more children that came from father-earth Noah. Now, all of Noah grandchildren and great-grandchildren and great great-grandchildren started acting like a set of spoiled rotten brats, again. They started the fucking and licking each other's body parts for a second time."

"Woot!" Ana reached over and slapped the arm of Woot again with a stern face.

Woot tossed both arms into the air with a smile and slapped them down onto the blue jeans with a chuckle for fun drama. "I'm almost finished, babe. Almighty God becomes compassion and then sends down His first born Son to calm the wild-ass natives on Planet Earth, His true rental property. It back fires and then first born Son gets spitted on and then cursed out and then hang on that damn cross. However, Almighty God is smarter than all of His asshole children and has an awesomely new plan. His first born Son is pure love and light. Amen! The first born Son spreads his sunshine down to his mama. Every little boy loves his mama. Then, the big adult man protects his mama with a shotgun in one hand and an arm wrapped her collar bone like a true southern boy. Then, the sunshine is transmitted down to the next child and then the next child and then the next child. Do you all get it now?" He chuckled with Hucks.

"Woot is getting something from an illegal drink or an illegal cigar or an acid tongue. What are you smoking inside the rented royal palace chamber suite?" Jon laughed.

Woot continued to stand and smile at the royals. "So, with the Jesus Strand DNA thing, Almighty God is creating his only holy band of good people with lots of sunshine. When Brother Jesus returns, He will lead a new band of goody-good peoples against all the evil peoples. The world is getting more evil and not nice since that flood water resided to present day and all the way up until Judgment Day, sayeth the Lord. Amen! Look at the worldly television newscast every hour, every minute, every second of the day and night! No one likes each other or their neighbor or their little dog. The world is ugly. So, Almighty God had planned for that and did something about it, to boot. He has created His new breed of children, who spread good cheer and happiness and hope, which is far different from the other assholes live here that can't see their own crinkled dick over a gut of rolling glutton of fat. Therefore, the Jesus Strand is a new breed of Almighty God's children that Brone is trying to wipe out and off the surface of planet Earth. Amen!" Woot pointed at Jack, Jill, and Jon with a smile. "Now, you, you, and you, go far and swift and get Brone. The end!"

Hucks continued to sit and clapped with a smile. "Woot is a fucking genius."

Woot continued to stand and flipped a hand with a grin, "Awe! Thanks, man! Really, it was nothing at all!"

Hucks swiftly stood upright and turned with a nod and a smile to see the royals. "Thanks for the invite, our new royal friends. But, the baby is sick with vomiting and shitting out brown turds. Ana is sick with a bad cold, too," he leaned down and pulled out the chair, assisting Fern and the baby to stand next to him.

Woot leaned down and pulled out the chair, assisting Ana to stand next to him with a smile.

Hucks leaned over and hugged Fern with a smile to each royal. "So, we are leaving and flying away from your home country of England right now. An American business jet is standing by which is located at the American military base, that is outside of the city of London, since the president send it for us to come back home to Bama, right now. Good bye, ya'll!" Both Hucks and Fern moved backwards from the conference table with the three royals and then turned to face the open archway of the drawing room, strolling ahead with a smile, picking up their suitcases.

Woot and Ana waved to the royals and then turned to face the open archway of the drawing room, picking up their luggage also, moving behind the back spine of Fern and Hucks.

Ana shouted out loud with a giggle, "Bye and good luck, ya'll!"

They disappeared through the archway and exited the room, moving ahead to the rented limousine from the President of the USA also which would take all of them to the American military base and then back home to Alabama.

Tuesday September 7th (USA day and time)

Very heated and hot temperatures with bright sunshine

with three miles-per-hour westerly winds and humidity

04:03 pm

City of Huntsville within the US State of Alabama

Woot Toot train setting

Man-made cold air temperatures without light bulbs

Inside the forest, Cody crouched down behind a row of short green plant bushes and wore the borrowed baseball cap coming from the clothing drawer of Woot. His body was covered in a set of tiny brown colored tree twigs, short ropes of green tinted leaf vines, and clumps of green and brown tinted tree leaves, where he blended into the natural forest landscape like a real US soldier. He watched the other fake Brone, who possessed a short body frame with a brown tinted beard without the strands of gray tinted hair, and a brown colored ponytail on the opposite side of the yard near a grove of tall shade trees. Brone had blasted off the new lock on the door as he and his men were entering to hide inside the train while waiting for the arrival of Woot.

Cody had already taken care of the other men and female, who worked for fake Brone. Cody had squatted down underneath a grove of tall shade trees with a nice set of sharp steak knives that came from the kitchen cabinet and a gleaming hunting knife collection that came from the private bedroom, all compliments of Woot. Then, he had silently used each weapon on each warm body that used to work for fake Brone and currently worked for Satan in hell.

The pickup truck rolled over the smooth roadway with great speed and turned, skidding to a halt on top of the loose gravel as numerous clumps of flying white pebbles bounced into the air and then dropped back down onto the gravel ground. Woot jumped out from the passenger seat of the truck with a worried brow and dashed with a sneer towards the engine compartment, halting at the scorched dangling door lock. The door lock hung beside the broken metal door. He growled out loud. "Cody!" He reached up and slid the door open when a boot heel flew into the air coming near the side nostril. Woot reached up and grabbed, twisting the ankle bone of the attacker sideways, tossing the attacker out and away the archway of the engine compartment. The attacker sailed through the air and landed on top of the grassy yard with the ant hill, yelling out loud in pain. Woot entered into the engine compartment and slammed a fist into the face of the second attacker.

Inside the truck, Ana opened the rear door and stood upright on the gravel in fright while watching the invaders fight with her husband Woot with a gasp of alarm. Fern slid across the bench seat and stood upright, handing the baby to Ana in silent worry. The baby started crying with fear. Fern reached out and grabbed, dragging the arm of Ana with the baby towards the entrance door of the box car on the Woot Toot train. She released the arm of Ana and pulled out a set of twin hand guns out from the backpack on her back spine, stopping and dropped down on one kneecap to the gravel. She aimed and shot out the door lock on the rear box car, standing upright and moved through the archway first while firing all the bullets from each hand gun at each surprised and uninvited guest of Woot, who wanted to harm her and her baby. Each uninvited guest yelled out loud in pain and suffering and dropped down as a dead body on top of the floor.

Fern tossed away each hand gun and spun around, dashing into the private bedroom of Woot with Ana and the baby behind her back spine. Fern stopped in front of the bathroom and reached out, grabbing each clean towel out from the bathroom closet, pitching it down into an empty laundry basket on the floor, back stepping with the full laundry basket from the bathroom. She spun around with the laundry basket and moved ahead towards the bed mattress, stopping and leaned down, ripping and tearing off each bed linen from the bed mattress. She spun around and leaned over, caressing the cheekbone of her baby with a smile as the baby calmed. Then, she reached down and gently kissed the forehead of the baby while quickly praying for some divine heavenly help here to save her baby, her husband, her friends, and finally herself, if at all possible this day.

Fern spun around with a worried heart and lifted up the laundry basket onto the naked bed mattress, emptying out of the clean towels. Then, she re-dressed a set of clean towels down into the bottom of the laundry basket and spun around, grabbing the baby from Ana, wrapping the silk bed linens around the baby. She slowly swung around and leaned down, placing the baby down inside the bottom of the lined laundry basket. Then, she lifted up and gently lowered down, wedging the baby in the basket between the bed frame and the nightstand. The baby continued to cry out loud in fear. Fern reached down and caressed his tiny soft forehead, leaning down with a tender goodbye kiss on his forehead, standing upright from the floor with a smile at the baby while hearing his baby cry with good luck.

Fern back stepped from the baby with a worried brow and spun around to see Ana, reaching out, grabbing the arm of Ana again and dragged both of them towards the closed door of the wardrobe closet. Fern stopped with Ana in front of the closet door and released the arm of Ana, reaching out and slammed opened each door, leaning inside and grabbed, handing back numerous loaded and locked weapons into the hands of Ana.

Ana spun around with a worried brow and gently tossed each weapon into the land as it landed on top of the naked bed mattress in silence.

Fern emptied out the closet of all weapons and held the last handful of weapons, back stepping from the closet, swinging around and moved ahead towards the naked bed mattress, stopping, dropping down the last of pile of guns. She reached down and lifted up a shotgun, pumping the weapon into activation, handing the gun to Ana with a stern face. "Just shoot until empty and then toss it over the wall and grab another weapon on top of the bed mattress! I promise you will not run out of ammo. I'm helping Woot end this right now." Fern spun around and raced towards the closed door with a lady sneer, opening the door, dashing out into the fight with Woot and Hucks and slammed the bedroom door shut and locked.

Inside the bedroom near the naked bed mattress and in front of the baby in the basket, Ana exhaled with a worried brow and slapped the butt of the shotgun underneath an armpit, standing upright and watched the closed door with determination of survival, hearing the baby cry with fear too.

Outside on the ground, Hucks stood behind Woot and slid to the side of the door frame, when Woot's attacker was tossed out and away from the engine compartment door. Then, an array of flying bullets fired down from the rooftop of the train behind the ass of Hucks and on top of the grass. Hucks squatted down and looked up with the hand gun, firing back at the rooftop, killing some of the unknown attackers, who were probably Brone's army soldiers. One of his eyeballs had seen Fern and Ana run away from the truck and into the rear of the box car for protection. Fern would kill anyone that comes near their son at the moment.

Hucks dropped down on top of the gravel and slid over the dry dirt, crawling underneath the engine cab, stopping with a set of panicked breathes to reload the gun. An array of new bullets burrowed down into the dirt. Hucks narrowed the eyelids in the far distance at an empty railroad track and heard the swishing of pair of walking boots, turning to see the opposite view. A pair of black tinted boot toes of a new attacker was coming closer to Hucks.

Inside the forest, Cody crawled forward on both kneecaps around each tall tree and low bush posing at the edge of the forest. He swiftly stood upright from the ground bent down at the waistline, running towards the rear door of the box car and stopped with a gasp. Brone was crouched down at his wrist and ran towards the train too. Cody swiftly stood upright in the middle of clearing and lifted up, aiming the cold barrel at the back spine of Brone. One eyeball of Brone had seen the slight movement and halted in silence, slowly standing upright, turning with a sneer to see Cody. Cody fired the bullet as it traveled through the air and hit the stomach of Brone. "Shoot! Don't sneer!" Brone fell backwards on top of the grass dead.

Cody raced ahead towards the box car with a sneer and run up the steps, through the archway, and stopped a few feet into the room. Fern fought with another female attacker inside the room. He could hear the crying baby and turned to face the closed door, dashing ahead towards the bedroom space and reached out, touching the door knob.

The door opened.

Cody ran inside and slammed into the body of Ana, slapping the barrel of the shotgun against the side wall, before Ana accidentally killed him. He said with a worried brow. "You and the baby come with me to a safer place," he scooted around her and stopped, leaning down with a smile, cuddling the baby into a chest. He slowly stood upright and spun around, reaching out, grabbing the waving hand of Ana. They moved ahead and exited the box car.

Cody led her towards the stolen truck that came from the military base.

Ana raced beside Cody in gasps of quick pants of worry, "I can't leave Woot. We're married. I love him. Woot needs our help, Cody. Fern needs our helps too. I'm guarding the baby for..."

Cody cuddled the baby and dragged Ana with a man-pull towards the pickup truck with a laugh. "Congratulations, Mrs. Woot! Woot is a great guy and they are all a set of professional soldiers within the USA military. Believe me! They have been doing this shit for years. They don't need our help, but you and baby need to be get to safety immediately and out of this bullet shower," he stopped beside the open door and shoved Ana into seat, placing the baby into her arms with a smile. He slammed the door shut and back stepped, turning to jog around the front bump, stopping beside the open door and slid down into the driver's seat. He started the engine with a grin of victory and sped over the loose gravel, steering away from the fight.

Inside the engine compartment, Woot slammed a fist and then a boot toe into the face on the twin attackers, knocking one against the wall and then out the broken window frame. The other attacker returned the favor and shoved with both hand, body slamming Woot into the control panel of the train. Woot leaned over the console panel and lifted into the air, kicking out both boot heels into the same attacker. Then, the second attacker flew into the broken window frame. Woot reached up and kicked him out the window as the second attacker landed down on top of the dry dirt. Woot panted with a sweat and looked down, touching the taped piece of paper on top of the console panel, seeing a hand written note. "Cody!"

A third attacker run up the stairs of the engine compartment and appeared inside the archway, dashing ahead and reared back, punching Woot in the cheekbone. Woot ricocheted out the wall and smashed back into the upright body of the third attacker, hugging each other, as the couple slammed into each wall, and dropped down, rolling over the floor.

Inside the box car, Fern reared back and slammed a folded fist into the hairy face of the female attacker and then one breast, shoving the female attacker over the top of lounge chair. The female attacker landed on top of the wooden floor with a deep grunt. Fern ran ahead and leaped into the air, landing down on top of a hairy face with both boot heels, hearing the deep sound of numerous crashed bones. A third female attacker jumped into the air from the floor and landed on the back spine of Fern. Fern swirled around and slammed the back spine of the female attacker into the bar counter, continuing to roll sideway along the smooth metal railing. Then, they both dropped down onto the floor in front of the bar counter. Fern rolled upright and stood on both kneecaps and pulled out from the back pocket of the jeans, pressing the switchblade open, stabbing the tip down into the hidden heart of the third female attacker, slowly standing upright from the floor and wiped off the bloody lip and then the bloody tip of the switchblade.

A fourth hairy covered female attacker sat inside one of the undamaged lounge chairs with a grin and slowly stood upright from the smooth leather seat, enjoying the performance of the USA solider-girl. She cupped an ear with a smirk and a shout out, "Hmm, darling! I don't hear the sweet wailing song of your precious infant baby anymore."

Fern gasped with fear and turned to face the open archway on the first bedroom setting.

A fifth female attacker exited out from the bedroom with a smile and a laugh, wiping the dried blood from a pair of wet hands.

Fern growled with fear at the fifth female attacker. "Bitch! If you have hurt my baby?" She dashed ahead and leaped up from the floor and flew in the air, kicking both boot heels in the air and slammed both fists down on top of the hair roots of the fifth female attacker, landing in front of the female on top of the floor. Then, Fern reached up and grabbed the collar bone of the fifth female attacker, twirling the body around, shoving the female towards the closed window. The fifth female attacked hit and broke the glass window coming from the bloody body impact.

The fourth female raced towards the broken window with a loud grunt and slammed into the unconscious body, pushing the female all the way through the broken window frame and the scattered fragment of glass. The unconscious fifth female attacker dropped down through the open window and landed hard onto the dirt. The fourth female jumped through the busted window and landed on top of a short platform, reaching up and grabbed the edge of the rooftop, climbing and landing on the rooftop.

Fern growled with fury and jumped through the busted window, following the fourth attacker up and landed on the rooftop. Each female stared at each other with a sneer.

Inside the engine compartment, Woot rolled away from the flying fist and smashed into the console panel, accidentally pressing an array of buttons which started the train in motion. He jerked back from the console with a moan and reached up, grabbing the airborne handle. The whistle blew out loud as the smoke stack tooted the warning to both Fern and Hucks.

"Damn!" Hucks heard the whistle of the train and felt the intense heat on his covered back spine coming from a roaring cold engine motor. He tucked the gun inside a chest and rolled a body over the steel train tracks, into the dirt, and over the soft grass. The Woot Toot executive train slowly rolled down the railroad tracks, gathering more speed. Hucks sat upright on one kneecap and aimed, firing a spraying an array of bullets at each running away attacker on the ground and then killed each one dead.

Inside the engine compartment, Woot stood upright and punched a fist into the next male attacker, missing. The male attacker stopped and stood in front of the broken window, reaching up backwards, grabbing the ledge of the rooftop with a wink at Woot, climbing and stood on top of the rooftop. Woot reached down and tear off the paper from the console, stuffing the message inside the torn jacket with a curse, exiting out the same window, chasing after the last attacker.

On the ground, Hucks stared at the train and aimed the smoking barrel at the rooftop with a gasp, up righting the gun near a worried brow. He could not fire a single bullet without harming Fern or Woot.

On top of the box car rooftop of puke green metal, Fern continued to stand and wobbled side to side on top of a moving train while seeing a row of three ugly and hairy female attackers on the opposite end of the box car. "Shit!" She squatted down on the metal rooftop as the train blew the hair behind the collar bone. The row of three female attackers rushed towards Fern with a set of growls and hand waves. One of the females dashed ahead and came closer to Fern. Fern pulled out the hunting knife from behind the back spine, not standing and tossed the handle of the blade into the air, sailing at the face of the third attacker. The tip of the blade hit the collar bone of the leader female attacker and as she stopped and reached up, grabbing the knife. The motion of the train increased with speed. The lead female attacker stumbled to the side and fell off the rooftop, landing onto the dirt.

Fern swiftly stood upright and advanced ahead, kicking each leg in the air, following with a punch with each fist near a face while missing. She danced around the two hairy female attackers continuing to kick and punch each other. The left side female attacker slammed a fist into the eardrum of Fern. Fern felt blood and tumbled backwards from the fist impact while catching her balance on top of the speeding train with a sneer. The right side female attacker swung an arm into the skull while missing Fern.

Fern ducked down and sliced her leg at the stomach on her right rib cage at one female attacker. That attacker fell off the rooftop on the moving train too.

On top of the engine compartment, Woot ducked down from a flying fist and ate the metal rooftop. The male attacker reached out and slammed a boot heel into the back spine of Woot. Woot rolled towards the edge of the rooftop with a loud grunt of pain, reaching out and grabbing the long bar which could hold a set of waving flags for fun, hanging down over the air waves on the edge. The male attacker spun around and dashed ahead with a smile, stopping and raised a boot heel, aiming down at the nose bridge of Woot.

Woot swung side to side and reached out, grabbing the long horizontal bar with both ankles, sliding away from the attacker. He bent at the fit waistline and stretched upwards, grabbing and climbing back onto the rooftop of the engine compartment with a set of pants and slowly crawled on the palms and the kneecaps, stopping and squatted down in a folded pose with a set of heavy breathes of exhaustion. The hairy male attacker dashed ahead from the edge of the rooftop and came closer to Woot with an evil laugh. Woot continued to squat on the kneecaps with a chin down into the chest with a set of heavy breathes of exhaustion. The male attacker stopped and stood over the black hair roots of Woot with a wicked grin.

Woot retrieved with a sneer and then stabbed down the tip on his hunting knife into the boot toe on the male attacker. The male attacker screamed out loud in pain. Woot stood upright from the metal floor and reared back, slamming a fist into the face of the male attacker. The attacker wobbled to the side and dropped off the side of the rooftop with a yell of fear.

Woot spun around with a gasp to see a row of tall buildings between the twin water ponds that represented the VBC structure, shouting out loud, "Shit! The train station is too close to the city structures. I'm going to die," he spun around with a gasp and dashed ahead towards Fern, leaping from the engine compartment and landed on top of the box car.

On top of the box car, Fern stood upright and slammed a fist into the last female attacker. The attacker stumbled side to side with dizzy from the blood nose, tumbling off the rooftop, landing on the hard ground with multiple injuries.

Woot raced ahead and slammed into the upright body on Fern, wrapping both of his arms around her back spine, sliding to the side, plunging off the metal rooftop of the soaring out of control train and rolled sideways in the air. They dropped down and hit, submerging down underneath the cold pond water.

The Woot Toot engine compartment slammed into the concrete station platform at full speed first, spitting out metal fragment, sparking fireballs, and some severed human body parts that belonged to the army of dead fake Brone. All the items flew into the air and landed on top of the railroad tracks, the glass windows of the buildings, and the building bricks.

Underneath the fresh pond water, Woot cuddled Fern, kicking both of his legs, swimming upward towards the water surface and broke the air waves with Fern.

Fern spun around with sobs of tears to see the train crash, slamming both of her hands into the wet face on Woot, "My baby! He's still located inside the box car compartment of the train. The train is wrecked and burning. My baby is in there!"

Woot shook Fern with his two strong hands and a stern face. "Cody! Cody got the baby to safety, before the train wreck. Fern, the baby and Ana are okay," he released Fern and bobbed on top of the cold pond water with her, reaching down, pulling out a plastic wrapping from his wet jacket. He shook off the water and unzipped the plastic bag, slipping out a piece of dry paper, reading out loud the hand writing with a smile. "Come to Raccoon Creek Road at Lick Creek for Ana and the baby. They are safe. I promise you that. Cody." He leaned over and hugged Fern with a smile.

Fern both laughed and cried with panic and relief inside the arms of Woot.

Then, they pulled apart with a smile and turned, swiftly swimming towards the muddy bank of water.

6:09 pm

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

with four miles-per-hour winds and high humidity

City of Jasper within the US State of Alabama

(42 miles southeast from Huntsville)

Lick Creek and Raccoon Creek Road location

Cabin interior setting with Ana

Cold air temperatures without light bulbs

Inside the tiny log cabin, Ana paced in a circle around the squared shaped floor of wooden planks with a worried brow. The cabin was built with a single bathroom, one wall shelf that contained old and new manual textbooks, and a viewing window on each wall that displayed a set of tacky beige colored curtains. She exhaled and then inhaled with confusion and worry.

Cody had swiftly driven away from the train yard of Woot inside the stolen pickup truck that Hucks had stolen on the military base, since his pickup truck was parked at the car dealership. Cody arrived inside a new and mysterious camp site near the small town of Jasper, parking the vehicle, escorting her to one of the numerous rows of log cabins. Then he had taken the baby of Fern and Hucks, leaving Ana inside the enclosed cabin, and had not returned back to the cabin. She had been cooped up inside the tiny cabin for an hour.

The door swiftly cracked open and revealed Cody inside the archway with a smile. He entered inside the room. "Hey, Ana! What do you think about our colony?"

Ana waved both arms in the air with a worried brow. "Where's the baby? Where's Woot? I wanna leave from the cabin and camp site right now. I am worried about Woot, fern, and Hucks. Where are we? Where are they? Where have you been for an hour, Cody."

Brone entered inside the cabin with the baby, stopping and stood in front of Ana, reaching out, handing back the baby with a smile. "He has been changed with a pair of clean diapers and fed by one of the wetting mothers. He is a very healthy baby and possesses the Jesus Strand too," he reached out and patted the collar bone with a smile. "I was very worried when you escaped from the colony, Cody. But, you did the correct thing. The baby and his set of biological parents are invited to join the colony immediately for protection too." He smiles, nodding.

Ana examined the baby with a puzzled brow and then looked up to see Cody. "The baby possesses the Jesus Strand. How is that even possible? Cody, we need to talk in private, please."

Cody reached over and elbowed Brone with a smile. "Everything's okay, Ana. This is Brone, who is my real biological daddy. I finally found my real family, after all these years. And I am not brainwashed either. Brone and his colony are not the terrorists, who are killing all the other Americans, who possess the Jesus Strand either. I'm going to stay and live here with my daddy, working the wilderness into a farm life for the humble bees," nodding.

Ana cuddled the baby with a frown. "What are you going to do that? Who are those people? Where are Woot, Fern, and Hucks? We need to leave and find Woot, Fern, and Hucks, Cody."

Brone frowned with worry. "Ana, I am happy you are safe from all your enemies, but you cannot stay here at the colony with us or Cody. I dearly hope that you understand my reason."

Ana nodded with a stern face to Brone, "I understand, sir. Thank you for the protection! When my husband arrives, we will be leaving immediately. I hope my husband arrives soon," she turned with a worried brow to see through the semi-dirty clean glass window with the set of tacky curtains.

Brone nodded with a smile. "That is all I ask. However, since I have learned of the baby's inherited genes, I will be asking his set of biological parents to stay and live here within the colony too. We offer protection and safety from the outside world."

Ana turned and frowned at Brone again. "O! I don't know if Hucks and Fern will wanna stay here inside your little camp site without property electricity and a garage for the car."

Brone smiled. "I will offer the invitation as their choice. They are your friends as told by Cody. Would you care to find out, if you are a child of Jesus?"

Ana exhaled with a puff of frustration, "Sir, I am baptized in the name of Brother Jesus. I don't need a blood test or a hermit to tell me that I am something other than a sister of Brother Jesus. I believe in Almighty God, Brother Jesus, the Holy Spirit, and my heavenly angles."

He frowned. "I have offended you. I am very sorry. Allow me to ask? Would you care to volunteer your blood protein for a medical test and then view the results for your fun amusement?"

Ana exhaled with a huff of annoyance, "I had learned some of the other names of people who carried the Jesus Strand. Would you mind rattling off a few for me? Then, I would be more convinced of your sincerity, sir."

Brone nodded with a grin. "James, the half-brother of Jesus, Joan of Arc of France, and Queen Elizabeth, the first of England, they are a few of the more famous names who had possessed the Jesus Strand, which all had come from the Virgin Mary."

Ana gasped in shock. She had learned the same information from the royals within the country of England.

Brone thumbed back over a collar bone towards the open door with a smile in silence, spinning around and lead through the archway with a smile.

Cody and Ana, with the baby, exited out from the tiny cabin and swiftly moved across the flat soil that consisted of part dry grass and soil, without a single concrete sideway, heading toward a new log cabin structure in silence.

Second cabin interior setting

Cold air temperatures without light bulbs

Cody dashed ahead from the line and stopped, reaching out, grabbing the door handle. He opened the door with a smile. Brone led Ana with the baby inside the tiny single room of wooden planks and pointed down to a single sitting chair near the side wall.

The room contained one viewing window on entrance wall with a set of tacky curtains. The other walls were filled with sets of medical equipment, rows of hard chairs, and naked tables that contained piles of folded colorful blankets and towels. One wall was painted in white and made of solid plaster for some strange reason. In the middle of the floor, there was an examination able next to medical equipment. The equipment was shut down with power. The far wall contained a set of metal cabins that were closed shut which probably held medications and medical supplies for a sick colonist.

Cody entered into the room and stopped, standing beside Ana with a grin in silence. Ana stopped and then stared down with a puzzled brow at the hard wooden chair, reaching out and handed the baby to Cody. Cody accepted the baby and moved backwards, sitting down inside another hard chair, bouncing the baby up and down in the air with a set of giggles and soft funny sounds.

Ana sat down inside the lonely wooden chair with a stern face in silence and watched Brone.

Brone stood in front of a wooden counter and fiddled with a set of tiny glass laboratory flat slide and curved dishes with a smile. "This particular small cabin is more or less the medical facility inside our quaint colony. We own and operate a set of modern day laboratory equipment and analyze molecules of blood into the raw components of white and red blood cells. I will pause for thought and say to you. A child of Jesus is a very happy and healthy person, who resides here on the planet. I can't explain the reason or rational, so you need to ask Brother Jesus that particular question. Anyways, I can perform a simple blood test. We do this with each new family unit to be certain of the inherited eighteenth genetic trait for our safety. Over the years, there have been imposters, who are not with us anymore. I will perform all the steps of the laboratory work and analysis the work as I narrate the simple medical procedure. May I hold your hand, Ana?" Ana lifted up the hand in silence with a stern face.

Brone reached out and tenderly grabbed the middle finger, rubbing the soft skin while moving a needle towards her finger. "I puncture a sharp needle on the top meat of your middle finger, squeaking between the small wound, puddling your blood proteins up towards the skin surface."

"Ouch!" She gasped with alarm.

"It bites both literally and figuratively. I capture the blood and smear it onto a sterilized laboratory glass slide," he reached over and drained the tube of the syringe, coating the flat glass slide with her red colored blood proteins. "I place the coated slide into a very powerful cellular microscope, using the latest gene splicing and DNA extraction process, which is very popular within modern day science. The flat glass slide is underneath the eye of the microscope lenses. Then, I flip a couple of switches and this green button, generating the power. An image appears on the side wall of solid white plaster. I strike another button enlarging your twenty-three chromosome patterns on the same white painted wall. I am sorry for the lack of proper audio-visual accoutrements, but we are only a simple old-fashioned farm community. We built and paint some of the cabin wall white plaster for some shadow box dancing which entertains the children and some of the adults," he chuckled. "The image shows your X and Y chromosome symbols on the white painted wall." each pair of eyeballs turned and stared at the image on the wall.

Brone smiled at the wall. "I will enlarge the eighteenth gene chromosome. There are eight bands which are composed of white or black. One is white; the other is black. The DNA strain of Cody, Joan of Arc, Queen Elizabeth, Brother Jesus, and me show a panel of solid black."

Her heart raced. Her hands sweated. Her mind clicked. She gasped at wall image. "I am a child of Jesus too. I see a panel of solid black on my eighteenth gene chromosome. Am I not correct, here?"

Brone frowned with worry at the image on the wall, looking down with a puzzled brow to double check the tiny computer screen. "Ana, you are pregnant also based on the newest technology equipment which his housed inside our medical facility coming from your volunteered blood smear," he looked up with a grin to see her nose profile, "Congratulations, my dear!"

Cody stood upright with the baby and moved ahead, standing beside Ana. She stood upright from the chair with a clap and a smile, leaning over, hugging Cody and pulled back with a smile. "I am shock. And I am doubly blessed. Thank you so much, Cody and Brone!" She continued to stare at Brone with a smile. Then, she remembered that King Jack, Queen Jill, and Prince Jon were hunting for Cody, who also possessed the Jesus Stand. The fake Brone had viciously attacked and killed all the other people, who also possessed the Jesus Strand and had failed to kidnap Cody. Now, she was facing the situation, if the royals ever found out about her Jesus Strand and that she was carrying her first born fetus, who would be a child of Jesus too. She gasped in shock and crossed both arms around the body holding back the sobs of fear.

Brone smiled. "You are a child of Jesus, because your body has carried the eighteenth chromosome inside your DNA molecules, coming directly from many, many generations of Brother Jesus. Only a virgin can pass the Jesus Strand down to the first born babe. If both of the biological parents possess the eighteenth chromosome within of their DNA strands, they will produce a child of Jesus. However, they produce only one babe. The biological parents can procreate again but the second baby will not be a child of Jesus for any reason or under any set of circumstances. The secret of modern science has provided lots of false miracles for God's children. A substitution for the real thing, a child of Jesus cannot be created by second born female or a second born male ever," nodding.

"Why not? I don't understand your statement or your explanation, Brone. What does all of this mean?" Ana frowned with confusion.

Brone smiled, "You will have to ask Brother Jesus that question. I cannot answer for Him."

A car horn interrupted the tense conversation inside the medical cabin.

Ana shouted out loud with a smile, "Woot's here. They're here. They're survived the fight with the army of the terrorists," she back stepped from Brone and Cody, spinning around and ran towards the closed door, opening the door, racing out from the cabin with a smile of happiness. She waved both arms into the air and screamed out loud at the pair of closed gates, where the pickup truck sat stationary while blasting the car horn over and over again by the hand of Fern.

Outside the colony gates setting

Cool temperatures with shade trees and bright sunshine

The horn on another stolen pickup truck alerted all the residents within the colony of the outside vehicle. The iron gates slowly manually slid open by a set of four strong males and females. Then, the pickup truck slowly rolled over the gravel road and halted in the middle of the camp site. The rear door opened. Woot slid out and stood upright, turning to scan the new landscape. There were rows of short log cabins and groves of tall shade trees that made up a thicket of green forestland. "Ana! Ana! Ana, I'm here! I've come. Where are you hiding out, girl?"

"Woot! Woot!" Ana ran ahead and waved both arms over the grass and through the piles of tree leaves with a scream and a smile towards Woot.

"Ana! Ana!" Woot ran ahead from the truck and collided, cuddling Ana, kissing the lips, the cheekbone, pulling back with a goofy grin. She smiled. "I love you, darling!"

Woot smiled. "I love you, sweetheart."

Fern dashed ahead towards Cody and stopped with a smile, taking her son from his arms, cuddling and kissing the baby with motherly love.

Hucks jogged ahead with a frown and stopped in front of Cody with a sneer. "Cody, you're a chicken shit for running away from a fight with my son," he smiled with a nod, "Excellent move, buddy! You saved my son, so that makes you his permanent babysitter for life, kid."

Cody reached out with a laugh and slapped the dirty and torn shirt on the chest of Hucks with a nod. "I accept, Hucks. Thanks."

Ana and Woot moved ahead and stopped, standing in a huddle with Fern, Cody, and Hucks. She turned with a worried brow to see Woot. "What happened after Cody had rescued me and the baby from the train yard with the vicious round of hand to hand combat fighting with each terrorist? Your face is bloody and beaten, sweetheart. Do you need a medical physician and some x-rays? Are your hurt? Is there a broken bone or two inside your body? We should go to the hospital immediately and have the emergency room doctor examine your cuts and bruises, Woot."

Woot leaned over and hugged Ana, pulling back with a smile, "Naw! I'm fine. I'm rough and tough bastard, my sweet babe. The bastards beat my face and then kicked my ass and then crashed my train. No more Woot Toot train, babe! I guess we start all over from scratch. Or we can live in a house or a boat house on the Tennessee River. I love the quiet of the river and plop-plop of the fish lips, sucking up all the wet earthworms. How does that new home life sound to your pair of eardrums, darling?"

A short male with a full beard and a long ponytail moved ahead with a smile, stopping and entered into the huddle, standing beside Cody. He reached out with a hand to Hucks. "I am Brone..."

"Are you the terrorist or the turkey?" Woot reached out with a laugh and shook, releasing the small hand with a chuckle, leaning over and hugged Ana with a whisper into her cheekbone. "Who is he? Is he nice or naught, darling?"

Brone was used to the cruel jokes, but the words did not bother him. He turned and smiled to each face inside the huddle. "I run a camp of humble bees. A colony of bumblebees stings; a colony of humble-bees prays. This is God's country, if you like that heavenly expression. We live off the land for food, raising pastures of fresh livestock, and do not pay electricity for air conditioning and warm heating. We live in an ugly log cabin that is cut down with a pair of rough hands. We farm the land and pay taxes too. You can't get away from death and taxes as Dr. Benjamin Franklin told," laughing.

Hucks frowned. "Cody, I hope you ain't listening to this fish bait swimming around the woodlands pond. Brone ran the Starlit Foundation. Then, the Starlit Foundation setup each local, national, and international beauty pageant to collect a sample of each red blood protein coming from every tiny infant to each tall mature girly contestant while tracking down the Jesus Strand race and then killed everyone, including the innocent and the evil and the other people, who possessed the Jesus Strand. I finally figured out all the different connections with the deaths of the Ashmore clan, Skippy, Yorkie, Islander, and Fucner plus all the dead contestants coming from each Starlit Pageant. Brone was not after an ancient artifact that was mentioned inside the Holy Bible. He was after each human that lived here and carried the Jesus Strand. Then, Brone would identify and kill off in cold blood each contestant and the immediately family members of that contestant while successfully eliminating the blood line of the Jesus Strand. As all the confused and befuddled local law authorities viewed the crime as a serial mass murderer. The end, finally!"

Brone smiled. "I do not possess either money or a bank account. I do not own real estate property or buildings. I handle the money nicely donated by the residents of the colony..."

"Do you hear and see here? He admits his guilt here by collecting money and then the selling Ark stones for more money..."

"Have you ever heard of US State of Utah, sir?" Brone chuckled. "Almighty God owns many underground mines of gold, copper, and silver here on His planet. However, He cares nothing for these precious things, only one precious thing which is your eternal soul. Give your eternal soul to Almighty God and you will live here for a little while longer, until you reach the kingdom of heaven. I am here to provide a safe haven for all of those who possess the Jesus Strand, sir."

Ana bounced up and down next to Woot with a smile, "Daddy knows the thing you want, before you ask for it."

Woot leaned over with a smile and a whisper into the cheekbone on Ana. "That's a total rip off coming from the Book of Matthew, chapter six, verse eight, which uses the daddy reference with Almighty God, Ana. You should be careful with what your wish for. Now, the real Brone is harmless. The fake Brone is dead. Now, the world is safe. Now, the camp site is ugly. So, I didn't fuckingly care or get it or like it or wanna it. Let's leave and get out of here! I gotta find a hotel to shit and piss, before I explode."

"We're pregnant." Ana smiled, "I just found out here inside the state of the art medical cabin. We are going to have a baby, Woot. You are going to be a daddy. I'm going to be a mama. We're so lucky, duckie!"

Woot cuddled her and pulled back with a wink and a grin. "We're preg-nancy. You're so happy. I'm so happy. We're so happy. Now, we are leaving. This other shitty conversation has been too much fucking fun for me. Do you have a purse or a cell or something on your person?"

Brone smiled. "I know all about the Jesus Strand. I am one with Cody and the entire residents here, who live and work within this colony. We live the words inside the Holy Bible. Love your enemies! Bless them that curse you! Do good to them that hate you! And of course, pray a lot!" He chuckles with Cody. "We live peace and joy as one here."

Woot frowned, "Yeah! I remember from my world history lesson too. There was once a lonely and crazed guy named Hitler, who tried to do the same shitty thing. He was into a pure race of blonde hair roots and blue eyeballs to create a single race of super beings and then overrun and overrule the entire world. Naw! It didn't work out for Hitler. Good bye! We are going, Ana!"

"We all learned that Hitler's thing was without a blessing of Almighty God. Thus, Almighty God took care of it for all of us," Brone smiled with a nod.

Hucks hugged onto the Fern with a frown at Brone. "I agree with Woot. You're doing the same thing here in the middle of some deep thick forest land of Alabama with your precious race that only possesses the Jesus Strand. So, good luck and good bye! It's time to leave, honey."

Brone smiled. "Your son possesses the Jesus Strand. I tested his blood for fun. He is one of us by genes of you. Your family unit is welcome to stay and live here away..."

"Hell, naw!" Woot gasped. "Do not believe this whacko, Hucks! Let's go and leave from here. I gotta borrow some of your clothes, Hucks. All my stuff's burned or is buried underneath the VBC train platform. Cody, are you coming with us or hanging with the hermit inside the valley of the tree limbs?" He frowned.

Cody smiled. "I witnessed the blood test inside the medical cabin here at the colony. The baby is a child of Jesus. The eighteenth gene looks like my eighteenth gene. That means, one or both of you are like me and my daddy," he leaned over and wrapped an arm over the collar bone of the short adult male with a grin. "This is my real daddy Brone."

Hucks exhaled. "I don't know about all this new stuff of genes and strings. I really wanna a cold beer and a hot bath. What do you think, Fern?"

Fern cuddled the baby and stared with a stern face at Brone. "I do believe Cody. He doesn't lie. He is a child of Jesus too. And I do believe you, sir. You were the mistaken evil terrorist Brone, who walked around Antebellum House while looking for your son. I have child. I love my boy. If someone took him by purpose or mistake, I would search through heaven and hell for my baby. Okay! So, why are you called the name of Brone? How did you get that really weird-ass name, sir?"

Brone smiled. "I am so rude. Would any of you like a cold beverage or a cold washrag for your bloody face?"

"Answer the question, sir!" Hucks continued to hug Fern and frowned at Brone.

Brone nodded with a grin. "My family sur-name is Broner. My ancestors had landed in the beach town of Mobile within the US State of Alabama in the year 1850, coming from the city of Basel within the country of Switzerland, which is the third largest city in the country. As a child, I was nicknamed as Brone, a shorten version of Broner. I am Bill Broner," he chuckled with the others.

Fern laughed. "Now, that's a great name for a wanna-be-terrorist Bill Broner. I vote we go and take care of ours and ours. We carry and shoot guns. No one can harm ever me and my child, especially someone named Bill Broner. Let's go, honey!"

Woot hugged Ana with a smile. "I vote now. We go away from here, too."

Cody extended both arms even with the dirt and blocked his friends from leaving with a worried brow. "Ya'll are all in danger right now. Ana is a child of Jesus with her unborn baby, who is first born of your family tree. King Jack, Queen Jill, and Prince Jon will find out about all of you on the outside world while living away from the protective colony of the humble bees like they always do for some reason. Then, they'll send in all the black tinted bodies with a matching helmet and hunt each one of your asses down here in Bama."

Hucks smiled. "Cody, we live in a safe country which is my homeland of America. We work for the US military service. We carry a gun legally. Yeehaw!"

Cody frowned, "Yahoo! So, did you battle and kill all the bad guys and all the greedy guys today in the train yard of Woot's place? No, you didn't. King Jack is not going to stop his hunt for each Jesus Strand individual ever."

Brone smiled. "Every human carries the Jesus Strand. Every human is descended biologically from our one earth-father Noah, wearing his DNA genes with many unnatural mutations that create our individual physical appearance and sometimes unique attributes. Since the birth of Brother Jesus, each human carries the Jesus Strand gene also."

Fern gasped. "How is that possible? How is that so?"

Ana smiled, "Then, why isn't everyone shown with a solid black eighteenth chromosome within the DNA strand? Then, all of us would be the same and there would be no more wars or violence or murders."

Woot frowned. "Can we leave this silly man and this silliest conversation now?"

Hucks shook a skull and both the hands, "Naw! I don't believe you, Brone. If this is really true? Tell me! Why have all the other children up to adults and even some elderly folks with the Jesus Strand been murdered in cold blood for a body part or something else from the body? Is someone or a group or a gang evil doers, who is doing all of this for some shitty fun and nasty giggles?"

Brone smiled. "All children of both sexes grow into an adult and possess the Jesus Strand gene which exists from their youth through their adolescence years and until up their adulthood. However, the secret of the Jesus Strand, the gene is only activated by a female virgin, who is legally married to her man within the eyeballs of the Almighty God. When the virgin bride conceives her first born child, the Jesus Strand is activated within the babe and is not transferred like an allele gene with a pair of icy blue irises down to the babe coming from the same ice blue tinted pupils of the mother. When the Virgin Mary received the Jesus Strand from Almighty God, it was activated when she conceived her first born human child who was named James, because precious Mary was a virgin during her faithful marriage to her husband Joseph as well."

"Thus, centuries ago, a bachelor king would always select and hide a virgin female for his wife, producing a child of Jesus on the night of marriage. Alas! Over the many centuries, the modern fool has optioned for a life of evil, not good. There are hardly any virgin females left to go around the block, if you please," laughing. "This is no laughing matter though. Thus, there are fewer and fewer of us, who possess the Jesus Strand."

"Golly! I believe the virgin female statement." Hucks laughed.

Brone exhaled. "Therefore, a second born or a third born child could never activate the Jesus Strand within their individual DNA strand. I am not implying that the second born or the third born child or the later babe is not either a righteous or spiritual being. The child has to work and search harder for their inner peace and joy with Brother Jesus, unlike the first born from the wound of virgin like the Virgin Mary."

Ana frowned, "What is the purpose of the Jesus Strand? Why is important to you or to me or another?"

Brone nodded with a stern face. "That is a very question. And I have a very good answer. It is only important to Almighty God. He provided the Jesus Strand inside each virgin female to be like the Virgin Mary. However, the free will freely interferes, most annoying with every good plan even from the Maker."

"Golly! I believe that statement." Hucks laughed.

Fern frowned. "So, the Jesus Strand exists inside each female. So, it is a chemical balance within her body."

Brone smiled. "It is a chemical release of more good intentions, feelings, and emotions over all of the evil ones. Modern science has revealed that DNA is the thread of the human body. The eighteenth chromosome is the thread of the spiritual soul. DNA is a very complex and complicated biological thing that was created only by Almighty God. The eighteenth chromosome is very special and very powerful. A human is stronger, wiser, healthier, smarter, nicer, kinder, and gentler person. The human body is made of water, minerals, and salt with numerous chemical, biological, and electromagnetic systems that operate all the brain waves down to the breathing pair of lungs which cannot be duplicated for any reason. Yes. There is something called cloning. But, that cloned person is not original like a virgin female or a first born child. Only Almighty God can create an original."

Fern nodded with a smile. "I sorta understand and can accept the purpose of the Jesus Strand. So, what is the mission of the humble-bee camp here?"

Brone smiled. "Our mission is to serve only Almighty God and his son Brother Jesus like each one of us has been doing since birth and until our final death and then ascend into heaven, hopefully."

Woot laughed with a nod. "And I hope my death isn't coming too soonest."

Ana frowned, "Is the humble bee camp like a church, Brone?"

Brone shook a ponytail with a stern face. "The humble bee camp is not a church. A church is the place for the sinner. Brother Jesus said that he came down from heaven to save the sinner from hell. A good person needs not to worry about hell, if his or her heart is pure, where Almighty God will judge in quietly and swiftly."

Fern turned with a puzzled brow and exhaled with a puff at the new landscape and then back to Brone. "It does not seem illogical to place a pure race in one single place. There could be a faction of non-friendlies or a set of nasty folks coming after us. This would be an easy spot to capture and kill of all of us."

Brone smiled. "Each one of us will continue to be tested and trialed every second, minute, hour and day over and over again by Almighty God."

He nodded with a smile. "Each one of us will be tested over and over again. That's it! Cody, we didn't get to tell where we were, after you were kidnapped and taken into the wilderness like Brother Jesus," Woot laughed. "We were all kidnapped from the car dealership too and then flew over the ocean water and landed at the royal castle in the country of England. There, we found a dungeon of dead babies that looked like a set of nasty hairy bats with two rows of teeth and no wings that were colored blue, not black. But, we figured out that Jack and Jill did fall down that hill and cracked open a skull. Then, they filled and repaired each skull with something very weird-ass odd. That was as far as we got, when we decided to escape with our skulls intact," laughing.

Cody tossed both arms into the air and looked up with a smile to see the skyline and back down to see the dirt, and finally up to see each face with a nod. "Wow! This all make senses to me now! I completely understand why my life had been screwed up, since I was sixteen years old. My humble bee father married a virgin female and then brought her here into the humble bee camp. Then, my biological mother ran away from fright and birthed me within a family unit that did not possess the Jesus Strand. However, my mother had entered into one of the Starlit Pageants as a young girl..."

"Wait!" Brone frowned. "How do you know all of this information, Cody? I did not tell you that data. And I cannot verify all the information of your mother."

Cody reached down and lifted up the mobile telephone near a smile. "I went digging through the internet while waiting on the other Brone to come and find me, after I broke into and waited inside Woot's train compartment. I found your marriage license and then my birth certification, sir. The internet can show you lots of ancient, old and past information, if you know where to look. I continued to collect pieces of the puzzled until the last piece came from Woot just a few seconds ago. Back to my life story in a shorter version, my biological mother was smart and suspicious and gave the baby up for adoption to a nice farm family in Greenville. Then, she went to a family friend, who offered to watch over me as an infant in secret also. Life was normal for a growing teen. At the age of sixteen, my adoptive parents had received the wrong visitor. When I came home late night from a hot date, my adoptive father had strangled and killed my adoptive mother inside their house, but I didn't know that I was an adoptive child at the time. Then, the secret family friend of my dead mother showed up at my house and whisked me away, placing me inside work farm for my safety. Someone had been spying on my mother for years, after she entered the Starlit Pageant. My mother didn't win the crown. Then, the spy killed my mother. Look! We all had learned this. A virgin girl activates the Jesus Strand. It is logical for a spy to spy on a little girl. A girl will grow to be a virgin or a whore. My mother was a virgin, who possessed the Jesus Strand, until she married my father. Then, she became pregnant with her first child that possessed the Jesus Strand also. However, the spy became confused and couldn't find my biological mother. When my mother reappeared without the baby, the spy took manners into their own hands and killed my mother, who had sorta confessed but didn't tell all the truth. Then, the spy found me and offered money for my capture to my adoptive parents, since the fake short and brown head ponytail Brone was the spy. The fake Brone knew that I carried the Jesus Strand. My father is correct. There are not many of us left within this world. The fake Brone was the spy and murderer here in the USA to identify, trace down, and kill each and every Jesus Strand carrier. But at the age of sixteen years old, the family friend rescued me. Then, I started a new life. The fake Brone continued to hunt for me, but there were too many intermissions.

"Skippy had been assigned to find a gem thief, who turned out to be the girlfriend of the fake Brone. The fake Brone had used his girlfriend Dorothy to invade the scientific community and identify all the people that possessed the Jesus Strand with the billions of dollars, coming from his mysterious boss. The fake Brone succeeded in killing a large group of folks inside a cave under the guise of ancient Bible expedition, except Skippy. Then, the fake Brone started eliminating every contestant who had participated in the Starlit Pageant, only in the USA to cover up another big screw up. The fake Brone had buried a set of creepy looking dead folks throughout the woodlands in Alabama, when a set of foreign organ implantations when wrong that had been conducted by an illegal team of scientists, where Islander had become involved. Yeah! That part had fooled everyone, including me.

"Then the fake Brone had ran out of money and decided to steal it himself from a local greedy Alabamian which backfired and then killed numerous dead bodies that did or did not possess the Jesus Strand, where Fucner had become involved. Then, the fake Brone eliminated every contestant that participated within the Starlit Pageant again for some reason. I suspect without a direct order coming from his boss. Since, the fake Brone had purposely or accidentally or stupidly killed an entire auditorium of folks in the city of Huntsville, who did and did not possess the Jesus Strand. Then, the USA law authorities became involved which included me again. Skippy had lost his biological father on that dangerous mission inside the killing cave and then used his personal funding of billions of dollars to conduct a personal investigation into the villain who was named as the fake Brone. Skippy had researched and found out some odd criminal activities, pulling together a team of odd-balls. The team had figured out that the fake Brone was building a duplicate of the Ark of the Covenant to electrocute millions of people like the real Ark of the Covenant and had decided to hunt him down. Instead, the team had accidentally exposed me and then the fake Brone had tried to chase me down."

Ana gasped with worry, "Why would the fake Brone be chasing after you, Cody?"

"Because of me, I am his real father." Brone nodded with a smile.

Fern gasped. "The fake Brone were trying to locate the secret humble bee camp, where the real father of Cody ran. Then, the fake Brone and all his nasty evil doers would come here and kill everyone here."

Cody nodded with a stern face. "To make a longer story much shorter, I have a question for anyone to answer. Do you wanna know who owns the largest private collections of cultured diamonds, gem stones, and semi-precious stones in the world?"

Woot laughed with a nod, "Yeah! That Hollywood starlet named..."

Cody smiled. "The Queen of England does."

Fern frowned. "The Queen of England is dead."

Cody frowned. "Her first born younger prince son is alive and well and is newly married as the couple now becomes the new king and queen of England. They house the largest collection of cultured gem stones in the world. They donate many of the individual gem stones as long as the stone is placed inside a tiara that is given away to a pretend princess. The Starlit Pageant built and gave away thousands and thousands of tiaras to each winner with a donated gem stone coming directly from the King and Queen of England."

Fern gasped. "King Jack and Queen Jill, they are the secret evil boss of stupid ass pawn Brone."

Ana frowned with concern, "Why would King Jack and Queen Jill want to finance billions of dollars to kill people that possessed the Jesus Strand? That does make any sense to me!"

Cody nodded with a stern face. "It all makes too much perfect sense to me. His brother Prince Jon is a second born son within the royal biological family, not possessing the Jesus Strand. His wife Queen Jill was not a virgin, but a cunt whore at their royal marriage ceremony. Therefore, their royal baby prince is not a child of Jesus. Thus, they want to ensure that the kid will continue to rule over the country of England, without a humble bee taking over the empire. So, King Jack will never stop hunting for me, my daddy, your baby, Ana, or any of you. The end, not finally!"

"Golly. I do believe that vicious statement." Hucks hugged Fern with a worried brow.

Woot leaned over and hugged Ana, pulling back with a smile and a yell, "Yeehaw! We have a developing child of Jesus, because we are also children of Jesus. So, we stay and help build the colony to protect our kid, either girl or boy. I hope we have a boy."

Brone smiled. "You will have a healthy baby, Woot. Welcome to the colony!" He spun around with a grin and lifted an arm to the team of gatekeepers. The pair of iron gates slowly slid closed as it was pulled by the pair of massive wheels.

Woot stared through the closing door to witness the last sight of civilization with a frown. "I can see that you are closing the set of fucking doors and sealing up paradise, locking out the entire world of evil. Let me be the first to enlighten your neurons, buddy! It ain't going to work."

Brone spun back around and reached over with a smile, slapping the chest of Woot as he was too short to reach the collar bone. "This is the community of humble bees. A colony of bumblebees stings; a colony of humble-bees prays."

Hucks leaned over with a smile and a whisper into the eardrum of Fern. "I don't know about this, Fern, honey. We are giving up everything to stay here. What about our military careers and jobs and house and cars and...?"

"I know." Fern cuddled the baby and kissed his forehead, pulling back with a smile. "We are giving everything to our child of Jesus. I want my baby safe from King Jack, Queen Jill, and Prince Jon, and the others, whom we have not traced down and killed or have not identified. Our US Federal government doesn't have a clue or a care for our personal safety, Hucks. Brone is short and honest and correct," laughing.

Woot shook a skull with a sour frown. "Ana, I really don't wanna be a humble bee."

Ana reached over and hugged him, pulling back with smile. "I'm a humble-babe. I'm going to have a humble-baby, so you can be my humble-beau."

Woot turned and stared with a puzzled brow at the landscape of rows of tiny log cabins and then the thick groves of tall forest trees and short flowering plant bushes. "Ana, there ain't no man cave. No train. No house boat. No plasma television. No remote control for the missing plasma television. I mean, if we have to wait and watch the self-destruction of the world, then can't we see it on cable like the rest of the busybodies, too, sweetheart?"

Ana reached over and patted her stomach and his arm at the same time with a smile. "No, Woot! You are a humble bee and I am a humble babe. The two of us made a humble baby. We are staying here to raise our child of Jesus."

Woot exhaled with a huff of disappointment and turned to see the forest landscape and the cabins again. "What in the fuck do you want to be here, Hucks?"

"A daddy to my son and a husband to my wife," Hucks reached over with a smile and tickled the naked toes of his son, leaning over and kissed the lips of his wife, pulling back with a smile. Fern leaned over with a set of secret whispers and pointed at an empty cabin near the cow pasture with a smile. Hucks nodded with a smile to accept that cabin as their new residence. Fern leaned over and kissed the lips of Hucks, pulling back with a smile, spinning around to face the cabin. She needed to feed and change the diapers of the baby. Then, she desired a plate of hot food, a hot shower, and sleep for a few hours, before her next adventure as a humble bee inside a colony of humble people.

Within the huddle of Woot, Hucks, Brone, Ana, Cody chuckled. "Suffer it to be now and then get into heaven later, Woot!" The cow sounded with a loud moo inside each grass pasture. Cody moved ahead with a laugh towards the cow pasture and then adjacent horse barn, scouting around the colony grounds.

Woot looked up with a sour frown to the skyline. "Jesus, help me."

Ana reached over and patted the arm of Woot and her stomach with a giggle. "He just did."

Woot looked down with a sigh to see Ana while parking both hands on the hip, twisting a smile to see Brone. "So, where are Saint Michael and Saint Gabriel inside one of the rustic pioneer log cabins which is made of real tree bark and leaking sticky sap?" He laughed. "So, the hot sizzling rumors of a race of extraterrestrial humanoids that plan to terra-form our planet into the alien world is living right with the State of Alabama. Who in the fuck would've guessed within central Alabama? Not I, not me, or my brain cells, to boot! So, I guess we are the camp of earth angels without a pair of wings, sailing around the rooftops like Santa Claus, too," laughing.

Brone smiled. "His children continue to blow off their heavenly souls with drugs, alcohol, and disease. No matter! The end waits for all. Peace on Earth to your brothers and sisters! God's will to mankind be done."

Woot leaned over with a frown and a whisper into the eardrum of Hucks. "That dude is scary worse than my preacher-man at church service during both Easter and Christmas."

Hucks turned and frowned at the new landscape, looking back at Brone. "Brone, I agree that the outside world is evil and wicked, but that gate is only concrete coming into the humble bee compound. Wonder if, we are hit with a gang of evil doers and their evil metal things which are called guns. Guns shoot bullets. Bullets kill all the children of Jesus." Brone thumbed back over a collar bone with a smile at Cody.

Cody raced ahead towards Ana, Brone, Hucks, and Woot lifting up an array of new shiny semi-automatic rifles in both arms, stopping and stood within the huddle with a grin and a chuckle. "Lookie here what I found for us! There's a shit load of guns and ammo inside one of the longest cabins," he nodded.

Brone pointed down at the armful of weapons, without touching it, turning with a smile and a wink to see Hucks. "The good Lord always preached an eye for an eye, son. One of my favorite quotes in the Holy Bible," nodding.

Hucks laughed out loud. "Amen!"

Cody handed a gun to Woot with a wink and a chuckle. "Daddy means that you can't shoot the cows, until after you milk them first, Woot."

Woot accepted the gun with a smile and looked to see the tall and ugly rust coated locked pair of gates with a sour frown. "So, what do we do in here all day and night besides shit and piss inside the wilderness?"

Brone reached over and patted the arm with a smile. "We fulfill and follow God's command which includes mercy, peace, and love be multiplied. Why do you think King Solomon had one thousand wives and slave girls?"

Cody turned and stared the pretty landscape of woodlands, sniffing and smelling the fresh pine trees, the leaking blueberry juice from the bush limbs, cut grass in the horse pasture, the rows of quaint log cabins, the running horses, and then back to see his father with a smile. "Daddy, I'm glad to find my biological family here. But, what in tarnation is a seventeen-year-old going to do for the next seventy years here inside a humble bee camp?"

Brone smiled. "Cody, you are a child of Jesus. Brother Jesus wants His paradise filled with like beings of goodness and not nastiness. So, for the next seventy or so years, you do His bidding, son. You get married and have children."

Cody clapped with a hoot and spun around to see a row of pretty maidens. The row of young and pretty maidens slowly moved in his direction. He chuckled. "Which one of the pretty maidens would you suggest for me, Daddy?"

Brone was too short to drape an arm around his tall son and reached over, patting the naked arm on Cody with a smile. "Son, you've studied the Holy Bible for years. In the Old Testament, a king took many virgin wives, not just one, because they were the children of Jesus. They were spreading the Jesus Strand, giving it to as many virgins as possible, since the virgin bride activates the genetic eighteenth gene. So, you're going to do the same thing here at humble bee camp. You marry as many of the virgins as you want and then make as many babies as you can..."

"Cody!" Woot dropped open the lips with a tongue of drooling mouth salvia and scanned each beautiful young girl. "Cody, he's going to become a teen-man whore to hundreds of virgins like King Solomon in the Holy Bible. Damn! Can I be a..." he felt a set of sharp fingernail bite down into his naked forearm and turned with a silly grin to see his newly married wife, who stood beside him with a snort of fury. He meekly mumbled down into her distorted face. "Damn! Can I be alone with my pretty wife-woman? She needs me for something special."

Ana exhaled with a fury and moved ahead with a sour frown towards an empty cabin that she had selected as the boss of their marriage for their future residence at the humble bee camp. "I will be inside our cabin writing down a list of manual husband-chores that is required to be finished before midnight, my darling husband."

Woot frowned with annoyance. "Geez! Thanks for being a charming sep...sweet spouse, Ana, darling." Hucks mouth spat with laughter with Cody and Brone.

Brone reached over and slapped the chest of Cody with a smile. "Go and introduce yourself, son! Your cabin is the biggest one near the barn with the pregnant mares."

"Yeehaw!" Cody dashed ahead with a smile and a yell at the scattered group of pretty girls, stopping and bowed at the waistline, moving closer into the huddle of the pretty girls with a chuckle.

Hucks reached over and slapped a dirty hand into the chest of Woot. "Woot, this place is great. We built us a man-cabin. There is over four hundred miles of woods, trees, and vines which are growing larger every minute. We work up a set of rough draft plans to build a tiny shack and then steal some electronic equipment from power station here and then get our brilliant teen-ass Cody to build us a satellite television remote box..."

Woot parted the lips with a gasp and turned to see the landscape of thick woods. "Will that work out here within the tall shade trees of the boondocks?"

"Shore thing, man! We capture and hold ransom some of those communication beams coming directly down from all of those hundreds of outer space satellites that orbit around the planet and then we zap the sports channel on the television monitor right into our new man-cabin," he chuckled with a nod.

Woot frowned. "Stealing is a heavenly sin that leads down to hell, Hucks."

"The outer space beam rays are freely coming down from heaven, sweetheart," Hucks winked with a chuckle.

Woot chuckled with a nod. "I like the idea of a man-cabin. Will it be far away from our wives and our babies too?"

"Yeah! And it'll be near an open plain gun range for target practice and away from the colony of humble bees. I envision a tiny shack for two humble-buddies, me and you. We construct a tall lead pole on top of our man-cabin and then extend it over the top of the pine trees, and then tap into the outer space television satellite for the football game next week for fucking free, humble-buddy," Hucks chuckled with Woot.

Woot tossed both arms into the arm with a grin, "Yeehaw! I love my new primitive caveman life style now."
Wednesday September 8th

City of London within the country of England

Cold temperatures with dark clouds

with seven miles per hour winds

09:03 am (London time)

Royal palace location

Ward setting

Man-made cold air temperatures with artificial light bulbs

Inside one of the numerous private rooms of the Ward inside the royal castle that belonged to King Jack and Queen Jill, a sleeping baby rested without movement on top yellow linen sheet of an elevated baby crib near the chest of the person with a headboard which was decorated with rows of console panel of colorful blinking on and off tiny light bulbs. The parents stood on one side of the modified baby crib while looking down with a face of worry at their tiny infant.

Prince Jon and the royal physician stood on the others side of the modified baby crib while staring down with a sad face at the same tiny infant also. King Jack and Queen Jill stood at the foot board of the modified baby crib while staring down with a sad face at the same infant.

Jack looked up with a stern face to see the nose profile of Jon. "The Shroud of Turin has been dated and tested and found to possess the blood protein of AB. We are all the children of God regardless of blood types. The blood of Jesus is the pure blood that matters now which means He did and will and can save your soul to entry into heaven. The blood protein AB type ancient historical reference is visually depicted as death, but the translation is simple: Jesus saves you."

The mother of the child looked up with a British stern face brow and turned to see the Ward. The room held rows of tiny pink tinted babies inside an individual enclosed incubator. The incubator appeared like an enclosed kitchen stove baking oven with a low panel of blinking red and blue lights, where it would whistle out loud and play a set of soft music for a baby death. The mother of the sleeping infant could hear numerous songs of soft baby music throughout the Ward room.

The nursery was located within the royal castle and displays each wall of an array of cute colorful baby animals playing inside the green tinted forest woodland, the red tinted farm field and the blue tinted ocean waters, without a pair of biological animal parents. Each tiny infant was not allowed to be removed out form the incubator, sometimes for months. The incubator was a heated unit that warmed each tiny body to continue the life force, so each baby could grow big enough to live outside the colored walls of the Ward inside the royal castle. However, the mother of the sleeping child did not know all of that information.

She continued to study each wall with confusion without seeing a viewing window that provided a ray of bright sunshine for the healing baby. "Why are we located inside an intensive care unit like a hospital? I thought we were meeting the royal physician and then signing the official paperwork for the medical operation to save our baby," the mother of the child looked down with a worried brow to see her baby.

The father of the child reached over and gently patted the hand of his wife with a smile of worry staring down at his baby. "Thank you, Your Highnesses! We feel so lucky that your royal physician found this terrible disease, so swiftly. We didn't know our tiny baby was in need of a bone marrow transplant. We would like the medical operation done very quickly, if at all possible to receive our donated bone marrow samples and our blood transfusion also. When will the medical operation occur? Where do we go to the hospital? Is the hospital close to the royal castle? What is the next step here? What happens next?"

The royal physician stared down at a stack of papers and then looked up with a British stern face to see the parents of the sleeping infant. "The blood type stays with the human throughout life. The genes do not change resulting in the production of new copies of blood proteins. Unless a mutational event occurs or the patient receives several transplantations, then set of new genes are re-introduced. The blood type of the baby is AB with a Rh negative factor. The Rh negative factor really is not significance for the medical operation. The Rh factor is inherited coming from one of the parents, who possess the AB negative blood type. Every baby receives two alleles, where the Rh gene was inherited from one allele that came from one parent.

"In the case of Rh factor, there is a positive or negative allele. The Rh positive allele is dominant. To be a Rh negative, you receive two negative recession allele genes from each parent. If the parents are both Rh positive and the baby is Rh negative, then each parent carried the negative allele but they are positive, because the Rh positive is a dominant gene within the chromosomes. During the creation of the fetus, the Rh factor has an equal chance of passing a positive or negative Rh gene coming from the parent and passing down to the child. However, the odds are still fifty-fifty for a Rh negative fetus. When a Rh negative mum conceives a Rh positive fetus, her immune system will create all Rh protein antibodies to fight off the foreign fetus which invade and grow inside her wound. This natural chemical response creates an issue during her pregnancy, because her immune system is reacting to the Rh negative proteins inside the fetus. Rhogam is prescribed as clearing and cleaning all the Rh proteins within the mum's body, therefore the baby is birthed healthy and alive. I read about another medical case, where a mum delivered a baby with AB positive blood and then after puberty the blood type of the young child had morphed into AB negative. The AB negative blood has been associated with a set of psychic abilities and an unnatural immunity to all known viruses and a set of six fingers..."

"...and seven toes all pink tinted during the blue moonlight," Jack turned and chuckled at the distorted face of each parent. "All that information is myth, fake, and false, of course. Your tiny son is very healthy. The royal physician enjoys revealing too much of his medical work, when helping a tiny babe. What is the status of the babe, doctor? The parents are very anxious with worry."

The mother of the child stared with British stern face at Jack. "I am a leveled head person, who is also extremely enlightened and jolly on occasion, but I am very worried about this unexplained medical operation. I would like to review all the paperwork along with a written explanation of the medical procedure, before my son is taken into the operation room or the operating space. My son had always displayed a set of rosy cheeks and a bright smile before. Now, he appears so pale and weak here inside the baby crib. Is this a nursery ward or a hospital ward? I simply do not understand any of this, Your Highness."

The royal physician turned and nodded with a British stern face to Jack. "The blood type only will not confirm a genetic link to Jesus. You would need a mitochondrial DNA test for that. The blood has been genetically tested revealing an AB negative blood. The alleles showed a genetic trait common in both the European and Spain royal lineage which is geographically impossible. The parents come from the country of India, who resides here in the city of London, since an infant also."

Jon stared down with a smile at the sleeping child. "He is asleep. You son also has a birthmark his arm that looks like a phoenix bird. The phoenix bird represents a special significance of death and then rebirth with the ability to transform and then to regenerate."

Jack turned and smiled down at the sleeping child. "Jon could be correct with the symbol of the phoenix bird."

The mother gasped at Jon. "I beg your pardon! But, you sound almost anti-Christian as well as being antagonistic towards my sick son and my person. What is happening here inside the Ward at the royal castle? I would like..."

The father of the child reached over and gently patted the arm of his wife, staring with a British stern face at his son inside the baby crib. "Dear, the royals are helping our sick son get better with all the free medical care here inside the royal castle. You can see that he is resting comfortably."

Jon turned and smiled at his brother Jack. "What does a theologist do? They make people smile or laugh or ponder about other things. I like that explanation. Some people can transform on a deeper level than others and can regenerate themselves with good health inwardly too. But, some people live the loss of dead ones through a set of sudden tragic ways as a new learning experience of life also. That makes no sense to me. But it all does to a theologist. Chinese theology says that blood is equal to the physical manifestation of the life force. I do believe that all things in life are connected and everything has a purpose."

The royal physician looked up with a British stern face to see Jon. "As a medical scientist, I strongly disagree, Prince Jon."

Jill turned and nodded to Jack. "I do believe the royal blood lines, the Shroud of Turin, and the genetic chromosomes should be preserved here at all costs. I utilized my common sense, my logic, my scientific knowledge, and all the current information coming to a proper conclusion."

The mother of the child gasped with confusion at Jack and Jon. "What do you mean by the term royal blood lines or the Shroud of Turin? What are you referencing in regard to the health of baby? There is no current duel of good and evil between groups of people like in each one of the USA Hollywood movies films. There is only free will that comes directly from Almighty God within each soul. Brother Jesus died for our sins. He is a role model on how our soul should live and carry on to entry into kingdom of heaven. Our spiritual journey on life must be like Brother Jesus while striving for a spiritual ascension and oneness with our Father, the Creator. When a man or a woman finds true love and embraces their spirit, their flesh will become one life in harmony and peace with each other flesh and the love and worship of Brother Jesus and Almighty God."

The royal physician nodded to Jack. "There are diseases and aliments with almost every single person on the planet. However, I have a patient. She possesses AB negative blood proteins, smokes a pack of cigarettes every day, and still thrives over ninety years of age. She comes regularly for her annual checkup. A recent chest scan revealed her twin lungs to be in perfect health without a single sign of black lung disease. How do you explain that one?"

Jack nodded back with a smile to the physician. "I am enthralled and thrilled all at the same time with the mystery. Having an evolutionist mindset, I would say that her body somehow preps, primes, and prepares her body for an environment change. Is this genetic? Is this magical? Is this the blood of Jesus? Yes, it is the latter."

Jon nodded to Jack. "To save the girl, we will need the AB blood type of Jesus' blood."

The mother gasped with alarm at the weird conversation between the royals and turned with a worried brow to see her son and then looked up to see Jack. "What does Brother Jesus have to do with the medical operation of my son? Brother Jesus was born in the Middle East country. I admit my husband has a head of dark brown hair, a facial beard, and tone of dark tinted skin which all came from his set if biological parents. But, my husband is not Brother Jesus. I am describing his biological family members through his DNA. You're a physician. I don't need to lecture you about the field of human genetics, sir."

Jill exhaled with a huff of annoyance and said with a British stern face to the nose profile of her husband Jack. "None of this matters now! If you want to live for a divine purpose, then you live it in the here and in the now."

Jon turned and nodded with a smile to Jack. "All the blood proteins come from your genetic predisposition. There is something pretty special about being AB negative like Jesus. From my personal experience, I live with a certain intensity of life and I suffer with the same amount of disappointment as a lowly human. I can survive through everything and yet I worry about the small stuff and all the tiny insignificant things. I feel the world exists on the level of inner turmoil."

The royal physician turned and nodded to Jack. "Among all the seven billion people on the planet only .06 percent of the people possess the AB negative blood proteins. The Shroud of Turin comes directly from the lineage of King David in the Holy Bible."

The mother reached down and touched the arm of her child with a confused brow. "All of you, royal asses act really strange within the eyes of Almighty God and with my neurons."

Jack turned and smiled at the nose profile of each parent. "AB blood type is not rare. It is uncommon but not rare. People who are AB negative live a life of full confusion and forgetfulness. The mum's blood type is A-negative. The father's blood type is B-positive. Therefore, the babe is AB negative. This is how you conceive a child with AB negative blood proteins. You receive an allele coming from each parent. AB negative is not passed down from one parent. The Rhogam didn't change the mum's blood type or the chromosomes or the genetic makeup. It simply protects the baby with a Rh type that is incompatible with the mum's Rh factor. The Shroud of Turin possesses only AB negative blood. What is your conclusion, doctor?" He turned with a nod to see the royal physician.

Jill turned and nodded to the physician. "There is no proof that the Shroud of Turin is old enough to have covered the body of dead Jesus, when He had died on the cross for all of our earthly sins. The Shroud of Turin currently is stored from the public eyeballs and exists hidden inside a church vault with a team of church guards. However, if you believe in such nonsense, then AB blood had been passed down to Jesus as an infant coming from Mary while assuming God don't bother to contribute His own vial of heavenly blood type. Any human child of Jesus would carry either A or B which would have been passed down coming the biological father of the babe."

The mother released the hand of her son with a gasp and back stepped from the baby crib, staring at each royal with an angry face. "I have never heard so many ridiculous and silly statements in my life. Each one of you is ignorant while bordering on madness. A birthmark is a birthmark. A blood type is a blood type. A house is a house. A car is a car. Brother Jesus had no offspring which means there is not a child of Jesus. His blood type was made of Divine DNA which had been given to Him by his heavenly Father Almighty God inside the wound of Virgin Mary by the Holy Spirit. The holy concept is something that we accept in faith as a Christian like me. The death and then resurrection is the glory of the Son of God, who shed His blood. Then His precious heavenly blood of his Father Almighty God wiped out every sin for everyone, since Adam allowed the Satan to enter and then destroy the Garden of Eden. Then, Almighty God allowed both sin and death to invade the planet. Almighty God saved you, him, her, and me by taking the molding flesh His son Jesus as a human man. Then, Brother Jesus took on our flesh and shed his blood which could have been one of the four known types, such as, AB, O, A, or B. Brother Jesus shed His perfect blood for all of mankind. Brother Jesus was the Holy One, the Son of Almighty God. Then, each Christian chooses Brother Jesus his or her Savior of the flesh, recognizing the act of heavenly love that saved the soul of each Christian. Then each Christian lives in righteousness and worships Almighty God through his Son Jesus Christ. You never need to worry about being good enough to enter heaven as an angel, because you cannot. Only Brother Jesus is able to live a perfect sinless life here on the planet and then became the Lamb of God by dying on the cross," she turned with a worried brow and pointed to each royal and the physician. "Each one of you seriously needs to seek a chair of professional help right now."

The father reached up and wiped off the brow seat and shook a skull, staring down with a worried brow at his son. "Jesus is Jesus. Man is man. I believe in a heavenly miracle or two. Please proceed with the bone marrow transplant immediately today. I would like to save the tiny life of my son. My son looks so different," he whispered a silent prayer and leaned down, tenderly kissing the forehead of his son, pulling back the baby tinted blanket with a confused brow. The baby was covered in a set of short spiky strands of black colored hair over his nakedness that replaced the glowing infant pink tinted skin. A set of tears rolled down his face while staring at his son. His son did not move or stir awake from the light kiss or the gently warm hand touch of his father. His son peacefully snorted like a beast while displaying a set of double rows of sharp fanged teeth inside the mouth that came from a blood transfusion and a complete set of organ implantation without the verbal or written permission of the set of biological parents. The father sobbed with tears down at his son. "I can't help him as a physician. I can't save him as a preacher either," he looked up with a face of tears to see each royal. "Please help my child right now!" Jack, Jill, and Jon stared down with a sad face at the sleeping child without speaking. The father reached down and touched the hairy chest of the baby with one hand and then probed with both hands over the tiny hairy chest of the baby. He leaned down into the hairy chest of the child that tickled the nose bridge while hearing no sound. He reached up and touched the throat of his son while feeling no pulse. He reached down and touched the tiny hairy wrist bone while feeling no heartbeat. He reached up and touched the tiny hairy forehead without warmth. Then, he looked up with an angry brow to see Jack. "He barely breathes. You have almost taken my child from me."

Jack looked up and turned with a nod of an icy stare to see the father of the dead boy. "God has almost taken your child with Him back into heaven."

The father pointed down at his dead son and then at Jack with a sneer. "You tricked me. My son is only one years old. He deserves a life of happiness with his parents."

Jack smiled. "You tricked yourself. Your son is dying. It is almost his time to leave from here and away from you."

"No! You're lying. You wanted to confuse me and make me crazy and make me forget about my little baby son," the father turned and held a face while sobbing over the dead body of his son. "I was crazy in believing that you could have cured the aliment of my tiny baby son," he looked up and reached out, touching the body of his son with a worried brow. "I'm taking my child and going to the hospital, before he dies." The machine whistled out loud and then sung a sweet soft musical tone.

"I am so sorry. Your baby son is dead. We tried everything to save him." Jack reached over and hugged the father into a chest, slipping both hands around the neck of the father, twisting both the wrist bones to the opposite side around the throat of the father as each bone cracked out loud in the wrong direction. Jon continued to hug the dead father and turned with a smile to see Jon. "I broke the neck spine, saving the heart organ this time."

Jill sneezed out loud and continued to stare down at the dead mother of the dead baby son, who rested on top of the floor near her shoes, where the mother had received a quick neck break which had been performed by Jon. She said with a British stern face. "Our new killing technique is much more effective for the host and the hostess too. We don't damage the organs or taint the blood. I believe we will finally succeed this time."

Jon leaned over the baby crib and stared down at the dead baby boy as the soft music ended. "He died. The baby son died. I'm never going to be a child of Jesus."

The physician read out the stack of papers and then looked up with a British stern face to see the dead baby inside the crib. "This is intriguing. I am seeing some new datum on the dead child coming from all the laboratory results. Let me explain about the physical dead body first!

"The pupils did not change from the natural tone of dark brown into a set of varied different pastel or a pair of rainbow colored eyeballs like before. Therefore, the heterochromia condition did not occur during the infusion of the new pair of eye organs into the tiny baby host. This is very good, Jon. The pigment of both irises remained stable. Heterochromia is a rare condition within a human, not an animal due to a gene mutation or an injury to the eye.

"The mucus shield on the nose looks very good also. There is a tiny bit of clear snot, forming along the outer ridges of his nose holes. Mucus is swallowed daily, when it mixes with spit and then is passed down your throat, without incident. A tiny bit of mucus keeps dirt, dust, and other harmful objects out of your lungs, when you breathe foreign elements coming from the dirty atmosphere. If your healthy lungs become contaminated, then you get an infection and have trouble breathing. If you find the tiny amount of daily nose mucus annoying, you can regulate the nose mucus by sucking on the peppermint candy, Jon. The main ingredient in peppermint is menthol which helps thin the mucus.

"However, a child of Jesus never catches the common cold or any other type of aliment. You shall never worry about post nasal drip from a sore throat or a runny nose," he reached down and placed a medical instrument inside the eardrum of the dead baby with a British stern face. "Hmm! I am puncturing the eardrum and damaging the small bones inside the ear to see the results," he withdrew the instrument from the ear canal and stared with a British stern face. "Ugh! The inner canal of the ear is covered in white harden ear wax which will cause some pain and then maybe some partial hearing problems or permanent earring loss. You can use hydrogen peroxide, ear drops, mineral oil, or saline solution inside the ear, Jon. One of the products will dissolve the wax or soften it. Mix hydrogen peroxide and water equally, placing five drops inside your ear at night. Lie on your side and let the solution soak in. If this doesn't work, you can wear a hearing aid for receiving vocal information. This is very good too," he moved down to examine the mouth.

"The mouth contains a double row of teeth. You can see the royal dentist for the removal of one set of fangs, Jon. Then, you will be consuming fish and chips like a normal human. The external chest and facial hair is grossly unsightly but simply removable. I recommend a laser touch to the outer skin, killing each single hair follicle, Jon. I guarantee within three years you will look shiny and divine like a Greek god. The dead child still displays a set of webbed toes and fingers on all appendages. I can do some minor plastic surgery to remove the extra skin looking normal once again. The outer appearance of the body is truly cosmetic which can be repaired with the wonders of science and an expensive medical scientist like me. I am more concerned about the invisible appearance of the organs and blood," he reached down and sliced the stomach skin with the scalpel on the dead child.

"I am looking at the new sets of replaced organs inside the tiny host," he reached out and touched, lifting the blood into the nose holes, smelling the blood that was leaking out from the open wound. "Hmm! Blood is a special body fluid of plasma, red and white blood cells and is composed of ninety-two percent of water. The texture of the blood seems very thick like a consistence of bee honey. We will add more water into the IV apparatus to dilute the plasma, red and white blood cells with the higher concentration of AB platelets while thinning out the blood liquid inside the new host. If your blood test indicates too few red blood cells, then you will become anemic. The child is not anemic before the medical operation. If your blood test shows too many white blood cells, then your body presents a sign of infection. There is not an infection within the dead child's body. This is very, very good, Jon.

"The liver organ is burnt blackish colored like it had caught on fire inside the body. The liver is three pounds. For the next round of medical operation, I will place inside the new host body two livers, not one. The liver organ can fuse and re-grow, if not damaged. The extra two livers can levitate the toxins coming from your blood through the two livers also. The liver profile laboratory test on the dead child indicates a high level of bilirubin in the blood stream. Bilirubin is a yellow pigment, when the red blood cells break down within the body. A healthy liver filters out all bilirubin but too much of the pigment gives the patient jaundice or the yellowing of the eyes. This is can be taken care of with a series of vaccinations against hepatitis A and B in the new host, Jon.

"The pancreas is duplicated with a burnt blackish color also. I will leave out the pancreas organ in the next medical operation. It is really not needed for survival. Anyways, we can feed you extra enzymes to detect fructose, which is a type of sugar found naturally in fruits and honey plus processed foods like cereals and soda, so you don't receive type-2 diabetes. This is a good solution, Jon. The kidneys are colored in dark brown, instead of pink. This is a sign of type 1 diabetes. The kidneys will need to be flushed once per week, since you will contract hepatitis A."

He reached out and touched the hairy arm of the dead body. "Help me turn the dead baby over onto the stomach. I must examine the anal. When a person dies, the body fluids will push out any lingering feces coming from the butthole. It is unsightly and gross, my favored words for the morning. A healthy stool comes in a variety of colors of yellow, tan, brown, red and green. Tomatoes turn the stool into red colors. Spinach and leafy vegetables make them green shit turds. Grape juice darkens the stool into black tint. I do not see a bloody red or a runny green or a solid gray stool, pushing out the child's butthole. This is very good, Jon. A bloody red stool indicates internal bleeding within the organs. A runny green is diarrhea of infection within the body. A gray stool is the sign of liver problems.

"I saw the liver was blackened, not dead. Urine is germ-free inside the bladder, but on the way out, it is exposed bacterium. I see something good, Jon. The urine is not blazing in neon colors, like red or pink or dark gold which is a sign of not bleeding coming from an infection or a kidney stone. It is clearly light yellow, almost clear. This is very good, Jon. I smell something good. I am not sniffing an odor of musty or sweet or funky sulfur rotten eggs fragrance from the exposed urine which leaks out the penis of the dead child. Any type of strange smelling pee is not good.

"However, this is good here. Passing a stool will stimulate the vagus nerve in the brain, triggering a drop in your heart rate and your blood pressure, causing you to feel both lightheaded and giddy. We have learned after inserting all the different healthy organs coming from one or many Jesus Strand persons into an adult host, the person guzzles bottles of water from thirst and urines quite frequently. I have diagnosed the host presents with diabetes which will show slow healing cuts and bruises and numbness in both your hands and your feet which has been medical documented and clinical treated within our experiences here at the royal palace. The adult host will never worry about a bladder infection or a urinary tract infection from consuming gallons of water. You have learned to consume eight glasses of water which will keep you well-hydrated and flush out toxins from your body.

"I have a conclusion coming from the visual presentation and the laboratory tests. The child died from a stroke, not an infection. A stroke happens when a blood vessel inside your brain breaks open coming from high blood pressure, diabetes, or smoking cigarettes that damages the blood vessels. This is very good, Jon. I have documented that the dead baby urinated over ten times per day, instead of the regular six times a day, due to the symptoms of diabetes. I can control the diabetes and maintain your life force condition forever. I am making excellent process, Your Highnesses," the physician turned and nodded with a British stern face to Jack and Jill.

Jack reached out with a smile and gently patted Jon on the collar bone. "Don't give up, Jon! We have two new specimens. The father and mother of the dead baby both carry the Jesus Strand."

Jill kicked a foot into the dead mother on the floor with a snarl. "Yes, she wasn't a whore cunt like me before she had married her husband while activating the Jesus Strand gene. We will cut out her organs and then replace all of them into another new host. I suggest we use one of the babies from one of the incubators and an adult hostess from our physician and then monitor the medical and chemical and physiological results."

Jon asked. "What about pursing the Americans again?"

Jack smiled. "I am very intrigued that the Americans thought we were searching for the teen named Cody Mack. The German baron named Broner was killing all the teenagers, who possessed the Jesus Strand within the American States and throughout Europe. An unwise decision, I believe. But, we can't stop them unless we pull out our guns and start shooting like a wild-ass American. I was only interested in the beauty queen winner named Ana. She possessed the Jesus Strand, when she was required to present a blood smear for the Miss Lily contestant. If only she hadn't immediately married that asshole named Woot here inside the royal castle, we could have obtained all of her specimens very easily. I am impressed. The US soldiers are not fools or dummies. They figured out our secret plot quickly. I would suspect that they are in hiding and protecting their kin like all the foolish Americans do. Anyways, we have learned to closely monitor the markers of the blood chemistry. We need to locate the right marker that activates the Jesus Strand. Then, you will be like me, Jon. Ring up the new chamber maid to come inside the Ward. She is our newest adult immigrant from the country of Austria, who has offered to participate in our fun experimental human body operation," laughing.

Jon reached down and pulled out the mobile telephone with a wicked smile and an evil laugh.

The ending never ends...

