Copyright © 2016 by Jenni Gisselbrecht
All Right Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means – except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles or reviews – without written permission from its publisher.
Jenni Jasiri Gisselbrecht
We got back to our crib around 1AM or so late that morning, climbing wearily over the open drop top of Addison’s Spider onto to aching feet and pads freezing on the icy cold, freshly snow covered ground of early October; due to the now fully climate changed environment and atmosphere of Northeastern Maryland. I wrapped my forepaws lovingly around the heavily exposed area of my stomach fur, abs, and midsection, fighting desperately against the violent dragon’s breath gusts of bitter cold fall wind as I trudged forward with Wendy and the rest of my crew up to the rattling front and screen door. Thank Maahes Wendy did remember to actually take the time and fully buckle up in that thermal suit Donna sent over as a little departure and friendship gift before her big and full on transition to DC’s oval office. I thankfully wedged the key gratefully into the damn near frozen stiff tumblers of the external door lock and stepped into the warm, heated comfort of our humble abode. “Shit. You look like you need a firehose.” I said, observantly taking notice of Danny’s somewhat miner wolf appearance of both he, Nikki, and Emma all coated fur follicle to toenails in ace of spades colored soot. “What the hell happened over here, Marge? Saw all the high rollers’ lights and shit down at the circle on our way in from Laurel as well.” “Johnny Rebel happened, that’s what.” Margaret answered with a growl. “That fucker’s been damn near running the whole ISIL base of operations for over ten years since his transition from the KKK nearly three of them ago, and now he’s even more of a rabid, senseless prick than even Derek himself could ever maintain the true title of ‘Savage’.” “Fuck.” Jessica sighed in exclamation. I thought Donna and I nearly roasted that Bayou trash elephant years ago when he old Trump’s boys tried to cocktail her campaign rally right before she got sworn in.” “I wouldn’t at all be surprised if he and that damn dirty ape were once running mates themselves at one point in time in their miserable red neck, trailer trash lives.” Nikki chimed in. “Trump may have been one good fuck of a shitty rich dick prick, but even he had to ‘start from the bottom’ and then he was there, right?” “Right you are, my old feline friend.” Leslie nodded. “Which is why, we’re going to straight up hit old elephant boy, Rebel right smack dab in his big saggy peanut filled nuts where it fucking hurts the worst.” She turned to me. “Hey, Jenn, you definitely thinking what I sure as hell am?” “Fuckin-A right, Les.” I agreed. “Time to pay a bit of a visit to Derulo and his Lizard Squad over down at Oak Hill. Damn, that place sure gives a hyena hella mad creeps ever since Nan and Pop left when they closed it down. Mount up, my pack mates.”
Jason “Kasi” Whooley
“Hey! My man, Jas! How you doing there, Cheetah boy?” The cordial raptor leader of the local Lizard Squad gang, Stella Derulo, burst out; quickly lowering her nervously drawn weapon as we stepped serenely into the former male ward of the old Cedar Knoll loony bin and dapped up equally almost each other, sharing smiles, love, and laughs. “Old Jenni here been treating you and Jessica well?” She continued, in inquiry. “I sure as hell hope to differ. You remind me so much of your little cousin, George from the nearby Skeenas crew who used to run with us pretty frequently as well. He was really such a sweet hella docile boy, Anubis rest his former body in eternal peace. Donna’s been repeating over and over again more than numerous times in all her speeches how near and dearly she misses him.” I had one hell of a time preventing a great geyser from spewing fully from my eyes as I stared heavy hearted down at the photograph present in Stella’s welcomingly outstretched hand. It was a very sweet and heartwarming photo of Donna and I hanging casually out in front of the local McDonalds in the lighthouse district back on the Philadelphia harbor with Donna and I both lovingly locking arms and smiling goofily on the bench; her sandaled feet swung lazily like a drunkard over my lap, and there…there on the far right, with his head tilted slightly skyward with his winter hoodie on, and the lips on his muzzle curled softly into a serene and perpetual grin, was my then eighteen year old cousin, George Nicholas Linton. The damn had completely built to bursting. There was no way in hell possible I could continue to fight it at that point. I walked slowly into the concerned and outstretched arms of both Jenni and Stella and balled silently and almost nearly as hard as I did the very day I got the call from Donna while working Illinois and Atlantic Q741 that he had officially moved on.
Jennifer Jasiri Gisselbrecht
“Rise and shine, boss yena!” I heard Stella over joyfully call out from over my rack as my eyes shot open and I hurriedly scanned around the slight greyness of the cloudy sunlit room. At first I damn near had a heart attack because I thought the remnants of the former patients once come to pass here before had been more than angered by the presence of a pretty well armed battalion of bangers from all above and between walks of life, and had now taken the full on opportunity to try and swear vengeance against us, but the only souls fully accounted around me for at the time were still the full bodied living ones of all mine and Stella’s crew just as the very exact way we turned in late last night. I rose wearily to my feet and let out a slightly irritated yawn. “Damn it, Stella. I very much thought you said loud and clear last night that we all need just about as much rest as we could possibly get.” “I did.” She nodded steadily in confirmation. “It’s only now that we’re also a wee bit short of fuel as well.” Her stomach let out a growl, and the highly corrosive acids in my own began to follow suit as well before we all steadily turned to our one and only possibly culprit. “What?” Margaret questioned, puzzled with a shrug of her shoulders. I swear to dear lord Anubis it was not me this time.” There was a rather loud belch to my left and then it was now Jeesica’s turn to look bewildered and somewhat defeated; to which I let out a congenial laugh. “Sorry, ya’ll.” Jessica pardoned, steadily rising to her feet along with her cheetah husband, Jason. “Junior here happened to get more than a little bit hungry. Again.” “Hehe. So I’ve been told.” I observed, sardonically. “How far ahead are ya now?” “Three weeks and twenty seven days now.” She answered, steadily rubbing her stomach. “Feels like damn near forty five years.” Jason chuckled. “Hang in there prissy. You and I are definitely gonna make one fuck of a good young male out of him when the time fully comes.” “Eh, Jenn, Jenn. Don’t at all mean to break up our little second Auntie soon to be moment here,” My brown hyena cousin Hodari Deland cut in. “But, I believe we do have a bit of high roller company vast approaching us from the lot outside.” “WHAT?” I dashed quickly to the right side window of my bunk as quiet and discreetly as I could and took a quick glance outside to indeed see the blue and black squad cars of Anne Arundel PD and the two fennec and European fox suits stepping out of them, shoes clicking ominously across the pavement along with my rapid heartbeat as they pounded hard on the main entrance door. “Police!” The fennec boomed out, gun immediately in hand. “We know ya’ll niggers are in there. Clifford Trahan sends his regards.” Wait just a goddamn minute. No search warrant, No light bars flashing whatsoever on the vehicles, and Deep South accents that sounded highly faker than Nikki Minaj’s tits and ass cheeks? These definitely weren’t at all any one time I’d ever heard of now up to Donna’s utopia like reign of the presidency and fame. These were no doubt fuckin rat bastard, Johnny Rebel’s group of clan shoe shining sellouts.
Jennifer Jasiri Gisselbrecht
The whole asylum was soon brightly ablaze with the sights, sounds, and smells of rounds exchanging and bullets painfully ripping through flesh and bone along with Margaret’s perilous teeth and claws, as damn near extremist after extremist began to straight up bum rush right through the main male ward hall corridor before I aimed carefully down the red dot of my AK, and began putting a shitload of more bodies on the table hour by hour along with Stella and the whole rest of my crew. We advanced quickly forward down the far right corner of the hall, spraying rapidly for dear life as more guerillas attempted to cheap shot us from a flanking position before booting it hard through the exit and cramming PB&J style into the back of our old bread truck looking camper van and gunning it straight the fuck out of there out onto the main road back towards Columbia. “Shit! What all in the fuck was that back there, Jenny Jenn?” Wendy exclaimed, still wheezing slightly from all the running and over exertion. “I sure as shit lost nearly just about every bit of my lunch and supper all in one from that whole day. And I haven’t even had breakfast yet.” “That, my lovely Reptilla friend,” Hodari began, raising his finger almost authoritatively as he spoke. “Was a testament. A testament that pigheaded bigot motherfucker, Trahan has now pawned fully against us and more than a damn good majority of his entire countrymen throughout this region, and it is indeed now the start of yet another full on war.” “Fuckin-A right.” Stella confirmed. “He’s got not only the idiotic, brainwashed clan groveling at the vile disgustingness of his feet, but also the whole fucking motherland of Israel and the middle east entirely as well. I’m surprised Donna hasn’t already heard about this from those loud mouthed, side chick flipping motherfuckers who somehow call themselves the all mighty ‘Secret Service’.” “Last I heard she’s already vast on her way down to the Lakefront to deliver a live press conference on the matter.” I informed in reply. “Let’s just hope as sure as shit those bitch ass media pricks don’t give her too much heat either as is.” “Well, what are we still sitting around here yapping our gums for?” Leslie said, her foot glued to the pedal as she carefully made the turn off Route One. “We need to get all of our asses over there and for damn sure keep her covered. “You chini?” “Always.” I replied, dapping up jovially with her and all the rest of the family. “Let’s go knock some fuckin heads.”
“Sorry, mittens.” One of the dumb muscle crocodile Secret Service agents grunted, as we once again attempted to shoulder our way forth to our old cheetah friend near the podium up front and center on the park’s main show stage. “Last time, I can’t let any one of ya’ll through to madam president without a guest pass; especially any rowdy type characters. “Now, just what all the fuck’s that supposed mean, puff and scales?” Tawret boomed, nearly roaring fully in hippo frustration. The agent slowly repeated himself, stomach churningly in a condescending like matter, and I could just nearly she the fat almost instantly hit the fire for Tawret as she let out a snarl and was just about to freight train the guy full force before Jenni quickly grabbed and consoled her. “Hey, come on now, delicious.” Jenni mock cooed in a suave tone. “Don’t ya got anything better to do than try to harass good and honest women who are just trying to make a real somewhat sole difference here? I tell ya what, there’s a nice crack whore house the Columbians recently set up when good old El Chavo got out the pen six months ago. Why don’t you take yourself and a few of your DEA buddies down there for a little country fried hoedown over there sometime, hmm?” Jason and Jessica both giggled silently along with Benjamin and the Lizard Squad somewhere off in the background as the Crocodile’s face went straight Robbin Williams from “Misses Doubtfire” as a familiar she cheetah began to pad her hard soled loafers over and just as quickly get assessment of the situation. “Let em through, Jervis. Go hang with your buddies down at the blue lagoon or some shit.” Donna ordered with a wave of her hand, and just like that, the bowling ball built crocodile and all his little fed lackeys swaggered away toward the direction of Ben’s sushi shop a little ways down. “Ha! Got em! Fuckin good one, Gisselbrecht.” Jason laughed, punching Jenni playfully in her tree limb of a hyena shoulder. Donna smiled equally in return. “Don’t at all mind any of the feds here.” She assured. “They’re all just more government scum, digging for gold in between the shit laden ass cracks of society for even more of the hard working American’s tax dollars and are still yet trying to run a fucking train on me after I issued that demonetization bill for their LEO salaries after what their stupid ass local bitches did to that poor hippo guy down in Tulsa. Fuckers really need to be taught a whole lot more than just a scroll and a piece of ribbon holding it together, ya know what I mean?” “No doubt, sista.” Jenni replied, slapping paws with her and the rest of us in condolence. “Which is exactly why we’re here standing before you once again today. Being that you’re now literally everyone’s one and only favorite government executive up in office today, and an independent, no less, we thought we could be of more than some assistance than these dry humping, crack rock fools you have currently hanging around you as your quote unquote, “Secret Service”. The cheetah chuckled, folding her arms serenely. “Shit, and here I am sitting up here thinking you’d never even ask.” “Huh?” Jessica asked, confused. “Just like that? You’d sacrifice your job, reputation and recognition as an animate being and possibly all life and limb just to dish it out once again alongside a group of everyday misfits like us?” “Fuck yeah.” Donna solidly agreed. “You guys are my fam. I could never think of leaving you niggas in the dust to become another shoe shining sellout for the Ursadae. We already had a good someone named Hussain perfectly fulfilling that toe jam disgusting role, and now Trahan as well too. I’m ready to let that fucker know his true place back at the bottom end of the totem pole where he belongs with the rest of his trailer park crackers clan. You down?” “For life and eternity as always, my nigga.” Jenni confirmed, lovingly dapping her along with Tawret and the rest of us. “Moja Kwa Wote!”
Jennifer Jasiri Gisselbrecht
“Alright, good old speedo.” I piped up, delivering a few giddy glances and an elbow to our now even spiffier looking, Donna Linton in the back seat of our van to the left as we rounded the corner onto Bakersville Drive. “You ready to start this year’s Macy parade and all off early with the new reincarnated African Wall Street?” “Rock and roll, big mama!” She hooted. “Nguvu zote kwa watu!” “Nguvu zote kwa watu” We all chanted unitedly in reply before Leslie finally pulled the van next to an empty and out of order meter of our final destination of fifth street, and old Harambe Trump’s good old aptly named hirise skyscraper on the east side of Manhattan; now run by the literal fucking elephant of the room, Clifford Joeseph Trahan aka “Johnny Rebel”. “Just look good old fucking times eh, cousin?” Jason uttered softly to Donna, giving her a sisterly like slap on the shoulder. “Yeah.” She nodded rather solemly in agreement. “Just wish a certain someone of ours could be right here to share it along with all the rest of us as well.” “Alright, listen up.” I voiced authoritatively, taking up my usual position as crew leader once again. “Security is critical to all of us on this bout, just as equally is it his Trahan and his cronies, so, Stella, I need at least five members from your group to provide clear overwatch of the street above. No one gets in or out of the immediate area till we fully make the window. That includes Bloods, Crypts, Twelves, and especially any false prophet of Mohammed skidmarks.” “Aye, man.” She kindly saluted, and dashed right off with Hodari and the rest of the group to hop straight off to business. “No need to search me, boys.” I said to the two security guards past the door before drawing my Vektor SP1 and putting a round each into the both of thier craniums, as one sick fucker automatically attempted to grope my genitalia. “I’m already well strapped.”
“Madame President,” Johnny Rebel trumpeted in his disgusting elephant tone as Jenni thunderously booted in his penthouse door with her bare hyena foot and I filed in one step ahead of her and the rest of the team, guns and blades fully drawn. “I’m definitely more than a little surprised to see you, and back in that repulsing primitive garb.” “Sit the fuck down and shut up!” Tawret growled, alongside Jenni, as all three of our felidae, hippopotamus, and hyaenidae families bared our teeth ominously in defensive along with our three lupine backbones certainly as well. “It’s all good, baby.” I uttered coyly with said smile. “All good.” Before he could voice another peep out of that rat trap trunk of his, Tawret and Jenni both rush forward with the speed of a missile and iron brute of a tank before Jenni delivered one solid hook with her right paw directly to the temple of his face, as Tawret placed a mighty hippo foot upon his chest which held him down with surprisingly incredible ease. “Well,” Rebel struggled out through a series of strained grunts. “I don’t suppose you’ve all come all the way over here just to bury the hatchet.” “You got that damn fucking right, Captain Obvious.” Jenni laughed darkly, keeping the red dot of her AK74 aimed straight for the center of his brainpan. “I believe I owe you and your little toe licking faggots all around here and elsewhere now a bit of a diminutive favor.” I began, steadily pacing a small tree line back and forth across the bedroom floor. “In return for the ruthless pig slaughter of my little brother, Georgie; in which you fully once supported and who you purely JUSTIFIED THE ACT OF, I’m gonna play a little game here. Good old Russian Roulette, as you guys seem to call it. One bullet, one chamber, and the rules are pretty damn simple. Be a good little ellie boy, answer all the questions plain and simple the first time given, and your pretty little head won’t at all have to either go boom, boom, or…” I made a hiss and slicing motion with a claw across my throat. “Now, which one of you motherfuckers was it that capped my bruh?” “What?” He questioned, falsely wide eyed. “What are you talking abou-Ahhh!” The force of Tawret’s foot tightened on his chest, and I disapprovingly shook my head. “Sorry, hon, but I’m afraid you know the blatant rule and code. You lie…” I raised my revolver, simultaneously. “You die.” Jenni and I both put more than a few rounds each into the crest of his skull before Jenni turned quickly to her left. “Hey, look at this.” She said with a perpetual grin. “Dumbo left his PC fully serviced and unlocked.” “Heh. Figures.” Wendy scoffed. Must’ve been one of those cash grabbing Youtube squares making milk money while ODing constantly with video after video of that fucking robot pizza place game that just dropped about a month or so last week. I’ll see all what goody goods I can manage to scrounge on up.”
Jennifer “Wholesome” Jasiri Gisselbrecht
I sat snarling at the idiot, head fucked ursadae plaguing nearly every damn news station on the fucking tube with so called, “bulletin board updates” on a current riot/protest situation a brewing currently down in Nikki’s former town and police agency of Charlotte, NC where yet another innocent, young, and equally smart fellow spotted hyena of more than many beautiful sons and daughters; in which he raised deep and sincerely with all his big and golden heart, was gunned down by yet another tribe of savage jungle apes who popped him nearly eight times in the upper torso and head just simply for reading a book in his car, while each and every one his family’s screams were burned painfully and deeply like a flaming tumor in my brain from the Youtube video by TheAdviseShow’s Phillip I had watched early; as they watched him bleed his very last right before their tear streaming eyes. I’d tried so goddamn hard to do just about any and all I could to help them each and every way a normal animal activist possibly could nearly more than an entirety of the whole previous day before. Facebook posts, Twitter hashtags, petitions. Every and all I reached out my paw and at least attempted to offer parts in turned to shit, and in turn seemed to reward me with absolutely nothing with turmoil, stress, and heartache just as equally the same as all the brothers and sisters felt deeply in their hearts, minds, and voices the very day it first happened to them. “What the fuck?” Nikki sighed heavily, shaking her head fully in condolence along with Donna to my right. “The same goons up there I worked with for nearly twenty fucking years at that very same department in Vice and Narcotics, and now they go and do some shit like this that’s just highly way more fucked up beyond belief than damn Red Pand at the goddamn source awards. Fuck, what is this world coming to?” “Worse than a fucking war zone.” Donna responded, glumly with her feet and knees drawn closely like a ball up to her round cheetah stomach and chest. “And to think, I finally had this place on the very tip of my claw. A perfect utopia just like everyone wanted. Where you can do any and all you wanted, be what you wanted to be, and so on and so forth and now it’s becoming just as shady and damn near equally as radioactive as buttfuck Chernobyl. It’s definitely these buffoons we somehow call “Law Enforcement” that we need to pay a little small time visit to next and put in their all-time place before we focus back on our secondary main task at hand, down?” “Always like a quarter pound, my nigga.” I agreed, putting her there. “Nikki, go ahead and tell Chiefy Putney down there he better have the mother fuckin National Guard with him. We’re on the next Palmetto down to his place in one hour, if he’s lucky.”
Jennifer “Wholesome” Gisselbrecht
“Shots fired! Shots fired! Officers down!” I heard one of the dirty twelve’s police scanners animatedly blurt out as Emma and I both raised our M4 and AK assault rifles quickly and continued our next champagne life style reign of bullets as pig after pig soon came rushing around one of the charred corner stores on Kane Street, only to gracefully join their now long dead and bloody comrades; with the body count now just as equally on the rise of all the more than many ones of the innocent, mostly young and thriving lives that these fuckers had claimed proud game trophies of for nearly two hundred plus years since the very first days of slavery way back when. Our new wolf boy, Danny Menzelfricke, and Emma’s now happily bonded fiance, was now kicking ass and taking first and last names with his rather simple and old school style hunting bow and arrow and katana while Margaret continued her usual full time Wendigo spiel of ripping through flesh and limb and devouring as our feet pounded heavily across the rocky paved roads and sidewalks, as if soldiers on a trip back in time to the 54th Massachusetts Infantry during one of the final battles of the civil war; in which our ancestor’s more than boldly fought to keep us whole and truly free, only to have nearly every one of those great freedoms shattered in the early nineteen forties all the way up to the present day. I called up Stella who was taking shelter in a nearby beauty parlor setup by the local Bloods along with Jason and Jessica while the many protests on the corner continued. “Yo, yo, yo. My main blast from the prehistoric past, how are Mr. Scott’s wife and the cubs holding up back there with my lovely couple?” “Still pretty shaken up and a little bit shell shocked, as to be obviously expected.” She answered, sadly with a sigh. “But, otherwise all up and still completely in one piece. Your soon to be mama cougar, Jessie here seems to actually be pretty good at keeping the young ones soothed and entertained. She and her husband are definitely gonna raise up one hell of a damn good son when the time comes.” I chuckled. “Yes, most definitely.” I confirmed with a warm smile to Donna and Wendy on my left. “She definitely takes that up both from her sisters and yours truly. We’re almost up to the 45th Precinct now. Donnie and I will both give ya a shout out when we finally bust a cap into good old Kimba the sellout lion. Meet ya’ll in a few.”
Jason Norman Whooley
“Aww! Dead yet again!” One of the teenaged hyena cubs of the late Keith Lamont Scott hollered in adorable animated mock frustration as I once again dominated her for about the third or fifth time in a rather grueling team Deathmatch of the new Call of Duty: Galactic Combat on the old Xbox One. Jessica was sitting cross-legged over in the further left corner of the den, playing a few friendly board games and some old Michael Jackson songs here and there on her Apple Phone for all the younger ones while Leslie and Tawret danced along with a few of them to Remember the Time and Sekhmet and their mother, Nila watched amusedly; with perpetual and heart warmed grins plastered on their muzzles. We had spent nearly countless hours in the midst of the current storm of protests and riots going on in the late night streets of downtown Charlotte outside, in full and heartfelt attempts to null and rid them of as many horrific thoughts of their more than tragic loss of their father at bay, and at the current wee hours of the midnight of around 2:33, I believe it is indeed safe to say we had finally and gratefully full on succeeded. Of course, with pretty much all else in life, all that good time eventually did have to come to an end for the one sole purpose of a well needed recharge. “Okay, kiddos.” Jessica yawned. “Beddie bye time.” There was the usual chorus of saddened “Aww’s” and “Why?” pouts here and there, but Jessica’s comforting smile of course didn’t fade. “Your little playmate soon to be is already counting his little Z’s down in here.” She said kindly, gesturing to her stomach. “Besides, you guys and your mom have a pretty big day tomorrow down at the local city hall.” She rose slowly to her feet and turned jovially to Misses Scott. “All yours again, mama.” She said with a soft cougar smile. “They were all splendid little darling rose petals.” “Thank you, Jessica.” Nila replied, gratuitously with an affectionate hug and smile. “All of you, I once again sincerely cannot at all thank any of you more than enough for every and all you’ve down for all of us down here in the godforsaken damn, dirty south.” A few tears began to stream from her eyes, and her voice cracked a little. “Keith…He…he woulda been so very proud.” “Hey, hey.” Jessica whispered, grabbing her head soft in her hands and looking deep into her solid gold eyes. “Stop. We’re going to make this right. I swear to Anubis, Mahhes, Bastet, and every other warrior god and goddess here and in the great up above, we’re for damn sure gonna make this right. Those assholes are going to pay pre, upfront and full for what they did to a young, good god and goddess fearing hyena male that is your husband, Keith. Just trust me.” At that very exact moment, Stella quickly rushed in with a few of her guys from the other room, and wasted absolutely no time in blurting out, “Heads up guys. Just got news from Jenn and Donna down at the local twelve precinct. Chief Putnam is dead, exactly as planned, but we unfortunately took at least one casualty of our own in the process. Frost has been hit.”
Jennifer “Wholesome” Gisselbrecht
“Watch out, homies! Clear the way! Comin’ through!” I cautioned urgently along with Donna as she Nikki and I each took a plentiful hold of Frost’s telephone pole polar bear arms, while Wendy took up her usual and innate medicinal role of the group and immediately gruelingly continued to attend to her three or so buckshot sized wounds the best of her possible serpent ability she ultimately could, as we rapidly ushered our way back into the Bloods’ east side clubhouse. “Oh, shit! Frost!” Jessica exclaimed, leaping up to her feet at brisk cougar speed along with her Cheetah husband, Jason. “What the fuck happened in there? I thought Putney or whatever that dick’s name is choked on a bullet already marked for him alone.” “Yeah. He did.” I answered, solemnly. “But, one of his little lion guard buffoons decided to whip his little twelve gauge out and throw in a fake ass cheap shot right about a minute or so after we fully made the window. Frost here, happened to be one of the last ones of us on our way out the door.” “Hurry! Bring her over here!” Sekhmet urged, briskly waving us over to a table in the nearby corner of the upstairs den room. I let Emma, Danny and Margaret take over for the last few inches or so of muscling her over; then quickly turned to the now rowdily anxious younger cubs of Misses Scott as they whimpered sadly in anguish, looking on at the sight before them once again with hurt and melancholy peepers. “Shh, shh. It’s okay, now sweeties. It’s okay.” I whispered softly, trying to put in just about every ounce of parental effort and experience I had from raising up my little niece, Aja all the way back from infancy while her dickish; no having ass mother was out club hopping, and tricking all on the side from being an RA down at a local Virginia hospital. “Look at me and Jessie, darlings. Look at me and Jessie. Everything’s gonna be alright, okay? Everything’s gone be just fine.” The rushed into both of our awaiting arms, as Jason and all the others worked heavily alongside Leslie and Wendy for what seemed like damn near more than an eternity through the whole rest of the ass crack early morning light. “Eh, what’s taking so long over there, my people?” Jessica finally piped up. “Give us all here something.” Emma sadly looked down at the tips of her toe claws as she padded slowly across the room to JayJay and I before looking up and delivering us both the silent and somber headshake; with a mouthing of “Sorry” before turning over to mutely pray along with Sekhmet and the rest of the crew. The entire protest noises from outside was soon drowned in a disheartening array of sniffles, hiccups, and mournful sobs.