Copyright © 2016 by Penelope Kanga
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I returned early the next day at around noon from yet another good run along the Pope’s Creek line, delivering loads of lumber and food stocks here and there for the various new industries now present along the route before finally heading on back with good old Motorola Meya and our two light engines back to our usual tie up location of Baltimore’s Mount Clare Yard around daybreak or so before we signed off. I was resting alone in the clubhouse for the most part. Jenni, Cuz, and the whole rest of the crew had gone out for a little ginger stroll around the Columbia Mall I guess to maybe catch a free movie or get a few good dance moves in down at the lakefront Summer Fest concert shows and all while I shared a rather peaceful room with the equally chill and fun loving hippo, Tawret. We shared a few laughs and plenty of snacks together all while joining her on quite a few of her gaming livestreams, when a sudden and quick rapping on the front door caught us both off guard and even the absolute dumbest species on the earth with half a brain could already tell way beforehand just exactly who it was before her usual scent of ocean breeze shampoo and body fur wash came into play. My good old chopper mouth conductor. She stood there seemingly in her full blown caffeine high as usual, dressed in her usual off duty mid-summer getup of a simple bra top, shorts and barefoot sandals, only her face and muzzle didn’t at all appear to be sharing the spirit of the hell of a long and good week end off before work and the joeys and cubbies’ even more boorish back to school week or aka outside prison. “Well, it sure doesn’t at all look like you’re here to bury the hatchet for keeping me up till six with that scary story last night.” I joked, lightly with a playful slap on her shoulder. “Darling, I really think she means all of it.” Tawret coaxed from behind, much to the immediate approval from Meya herself in return. “I heard through the not so scary grapevine that your friends are in some pretty deep shit down at the local Columbia Mall… or at least, are about to be.” “What? What the hell’s going on down there, mate?” I questioned desperately, my eyes slowly widening in edginess and worry. “Hati.” Tawret explained in reply. “He’s decided to rally up a few of his so called, ‘Diamond Dogs’ to work alongside him in what will be the start of what he calls Sermon twenty three. He’ll slowly begin to turn all the souls of those in his vicinity against us in order to achieve his all-time goal; which of course, will bring disastrous results.” “Crikey mother of holy Isis.” I swore desperately in frustration and disbelief. “We’ll definitely no use in sitting around here rotting around like the stink of Taniel’s footpads. Let’s get our bloomin asses out on the road.”