Friday, May 31, 2013

What's To Come In June: AKA "The Junebug"

This is just a report of confirmed and pending things to come for this very blog.

- The Voice U.S. S4 Recaps

- Freedom Of The Seas once completed

- A series of posts about women with complicated images in the music industry

- Lists over things I like and hate

Anything else will be completely up to me. Thought I should let you know.

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Freedom Of The Seas in the works

I'm currently writing a third story which is a continuation of "trEND" and "Peace Without A Sword" called "Freedom Of The Seas".

I started Act I on May 24th and finished yesterday.

Act II is taking much longer as I'm only in 6 pages deep.

I'll be working to have it up soon.

Thought I'd let you know the progress made.

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

The Voice U.S. S4 Recap: Results of The Top 8

Emotions were felt; shit went down...another goddamn recap episode prior to results. Weak; that aside, let's play rough and get it on!

Team Mason-Dixon...err Blake kicked things off with a group performance alongside S4 mentor Sheryl Crow. They were more country than stereotyped prejudice and hatred. (It was either that or more country than chicken fried steak and gravy.)

Before the first person was saved, Blake promoted the "Special Latte" cups Starbucks had for Oklahoma relief efforts and Her Royal Fucking Highness proceeded to butcher her duet performance of "Sweet Nothing" by Calvin Harris ft. Florence Welch. Michelle "Amazing Human" Chamuel saved it but goddamn, HRFH screwed up that song ridiculously. > : (

The first saved was Michelle "Amazing Human" Chamuel from Team Usher. Thank you to the voting public for not fucking this up.

After that, fodder came in a group performance from The Corny Duo and Sasha Allen. Sasha was thrust into this country ish performance singing some Jason Aldean song ["Don't You Wanna Stay"].

The second saved was Kewpie Doll from Team Blake. Easy come, easy go with liking the voting public. *shaaaaaaaaaade*. On a serious note, she must not advance any further. Put the Kewpie Doll back on the shelf, voting public.

Kewpie Doll and Screech...err Sarah Simmons took the stage and sang "A Thousand Years" by Christina Perri [the one famous for "Jar of Hearts" and "Arms" as well as serving "Hot Topic Realness"].

Third saved was Sasha Allen from Team Shakira. The voting public has improved their level of love for Sasha. : )

Amber Carrington and Holly Tucker chipped in their fodder cards and actually sounded lovely together singing "Does He Love You" by Reba McEntire. (Sorry Willam; lovely is an apt descriptor for something awesome.)

Fourth saved was The Corny Duo from Team Blake. Ughhhhhhh; the voting public scares me with some of the contestants they save. Make them sing their Swan Song, voting public.

Fifth saved was Amber Carrington from Team Adam. She indeed ascended into dark horse pantheon maximum level.

The last saved was Holly Tucker from Team Blake. She had sass to boot so she was saved.

O_O Did it really happen? Yes it did : )

Those that got the boot: Her Royal Fucking Highness and Screech from Team Adam!

We did it voting public! We dethroned Her Royal Fucking Highness and muzzled Screech! Serves them right for their awful music taste yesterday.

Happiness come in all forms and this is the best Results show in history.

Now for a much needed apology to Judith and Sarah... You heard me.
Ladies, despite my awful comments aimed at you, please understand it's a personal thing. Yes, I may have created this blog as a counter-discourse to those who recap the show and give you praise that I felt at times you don't deserve.

Sarah, I mainly disliked you because of what could've been a shaky Blind Audition version of a song Katrina Parker did justice. You advancing over Caroline Glaser made me upset mainly because on a personal level I thought she wiped the floor with you. However, that was out of anger. I apologize for calling you Screech the entire time you've been on the show.

Judith...this will be hard as I found you to be so hype ridden and underwhelming as a vocalist. Yes, I did insinuate Adam was using you to siphon Michael Jackson fan votes. That was mainly after I thought Karina Iglesias did a much better job in the Battles. Ever since then, I decided to take it out more so on you. I won't listen to songs you or Sarah made but I say this...

Like "Paris Is Burning" est. I paraphrase into my own words...

"I applaud you for having some nerve; 
cause with a vicious motherfucker like me,
it do take nerve."

I'm sorry for writing awful things about you two; no matter how much of it I felt to be true.

Monday, May 27, 2013

The Voice U.S. S4 Recap: Top 8 Performances

The show kicked off with Blake serving up "Mason-Dixon Hootenanny Realness" with Season 2 team member, Gwen Sebastian. Now you can cross her off of the "Where Are They Now?" list. Usher wore some Michelle "Amazing Human" Chamuel style frames in tribute to the last one standing from his team. Now, let's get to how they did in all my four eyes (Glasses joke). Play rough and let's get it on!

First up, Her Royal Fucking Highness from Team Adam. She was tasked with singing a very horrible song; "That Power" by ft. He Who Inspired Lesbians Who Look Like Justin Bieber (Also I resent Carson for saying the song title as it's crudely stylized; "#thatPOWER"; Shameful, Carson. Very shameful.) Her obstacle was supposedly tackling a very electro song and adapting it to her voice. 1. Her real task is to not sound like cat shit and she did enough to where I muted her after the first 3-5 seconds. 2. Her song choice is terrible this week. Seriously; anything that has to do with He Who Inspired Lesbians Who Look Like Justin Bieber is indicative of lurid taste. Enough said about her; I'm hoping she gets sent home with the level of hate for He Who Inspired Lesbians Who Look Like Justin Bieber (By non brain-dead "tween" girls of course).

Second was Holly Tucker of Team Blake. She was tasked with singing "Done" by The Band Perry. Her persona was called into question again when "anger" (The singing version) seemed to be problematic. During her performance, tacky boots aside, she seemed to manage the anger thing with her voice rather well. The performance even had a bonus bit of sass as she turned to end her performance. *Side note: Hair action seems to be the name of the game* After a bit of shade from Usher to Carson saying he has "Jimmy Neutron" face *shaaaaaaaaaaaade* Holly is told she did great.

Third was The Corny Duo with The Terrible Puns of Team Blake. They were tasked with singing "Seven Bridges Road" by The Eagles. Credit to the props department for the cutesy albeit fucking tacky campfire set. They should be near a campfire roasting over coals as it fits them. They worry over not being "on the money" for an Eagles song. They need to relax, because really the crowd just likes the free entertainment; even if they think they suck. The coaches ease their neuroses by telling them they don't totally suck. Adam noticed a few minor moments of pitch, but he went a little spineless by redacting his comments. BONUS: They were playing with real fire! O_O

Fourth was Sasha Allen of Team Shakira. She's tasked with singing "Without You" by David Guetta ft. Usher. She was just told to not sound like cat shit for 2 reasons. 1. She's the last one standing for Shakira and 2. It's Usher's song in a way. At the start, it seemed like "Shaki" had screwed over Sasha because I heard some sour notes in the lower registers of that song. Still, Sasha made up by channeling her energy into one of her strongest showcases of stage presence yet.

Fifth was Sarah "Screech" Simmons of Team Adam. She's tasked with singing "Somebody That I Used To Know" by Gotye ft. Kimbra. She's told to really get pissed off because the song has vindictive qualities. She didn't nail the pissed off thing to me. The coaches may be saying "You SUCK" in the nicest way possible by saying she was an "interesting artist". Still don't be surprised if her name isn't called for tomorrow's results show.

Sixth was Michelle "Amazing Human" Chamuel of Team Usher. She's tasked with singing "Grenade" by Bruno Mars ("The Sing 10 Bruno Mars Songs and Receive a Free Hat" card has been punched like a motherfucker this season). She proceeds to bitchslap the fuck out of that song. The "inner beauty" thing is brought up again, but really; Michelle bitchslapped the fuck out of that song. 

Seventh was Kewpie Doll of Team Blake. I stopped giving a shit about her to write anything about her performance. Though the same process happened; [For the record, she sang "Grandpa" by The Judds] (And proceeded to admit something that's happened to at least 88% of Americans. That her grandfathers died when she was younger...and that her grandma died last Thanksgiving. No offense, chicky but EVERYBODY has lost a grandparent.)

- She was a complete bore.

- Blake looooooooooooooved her performance.

- I didn't vote for her ass.

Call me a psychic if you must. -_- For the record, I do offer my sympathies to Danielle for the loss of her grandma because I may hate her singing but I'm not a complete dick. Your grandma's in heaven, Danielle.

[P.S.- Kewpie Doll had red glittery boots...I defer you to my shadiest tweet regarding her to date...]

"Tap your boots three times and disappear, bitch. #Defcon5Shade"

Finally, Amber Carrington of Team Adam. She's tasked with singing "Skyfall" by Adele. Cojones meter was in the red. Then she proceeded to whip that song's ass like a rented mule. The coaches even admitted that this was the only time an Adele song was done justice. That claim seems to be some say, "On some PROFOUND shit!" However, if Adam liked someone doing an Adele song, Amber bought herself another week on the show.

All in all, despite the nouns I hate, The Voice hit another one clean. Next up for scrutiny, the results show.

Sunday, May 26, 2013

Home Internet Working Again!

Thanks to my brother, the home internet I use has been restored. YAY!

I'll get right to throwing shade on schedule for The Voice recaps tomorrow and Tuesday.

Saturday, May 25, 2013

Slight Flood Issues

Due to a slight flood issue, I am declaring my state of Voice recaps in "limbo". Not my intent...but with internet access at home gone because of said issue, I don't think I can have full involvement by Monday or Tuesday.

If I do, I will let you know as soon as I can.

Thursday, May 23, 2013

Peace Without A Sword Act II Part II

Ryan had appeared before them demanding they leave. “Is there really any reason for this happening?” he asked. “Oh believe me you hack...” Blyvy began. “There are very good reasons why we’re doing this.” “What are those reasons? I’d love to hear how you think the ends justify the means.” he replied. Before Catya went in for a strike, Blyvy stopped her. “He hasn’t been dumb enough to fight back. No need to vanquish him yet.” she said.
She explained to him everything she knew. She started from the crew’s origins in Mama Joseph’s bookstore to the Derby and Friedan Massacres. Then, her story went in explaining with how she and the other spawn started with Victory, how she died, the addition of Dolly, the addition of the crew, the addition of Michelle, the addition of Blondie, how he died, the addition of Goldie and the addition of Matthew which reunited them with surviving assistants of the Derby and Friedan. Then she explained how certain ancillary characters pissed her and the rest of the crew off. Zasalamel Sardo, Victory’s reanimated being, Ithaca Franc and Smitty each pissed them off in different ways.
“Smitty didn’t have to die. He really fucked up our zero streak of clichéd bullshit.” she finished. The story in all infuriated Ryan. “How dare all of you for thinking this was the answer.” he said. “Don’t give us that pious shit, Gosling.” Dolly said. “Agreed.” Charlie added. “If you were actually interesting, you’d’ve been in ‘Magic Mike’ instead of Channing Tatum.” Ryan defensively queried, “How do you know he got in without displaying his acting?” “Really? Channing Tatum and acting in the same sentence?” Michelle chimed. “Seriously, Ryan. You’re marginally attractive at best. Don’t add stupidity to your flaws.” David noted.
That alone changed Ryan’s idea as to how to deal with the crew. “ won’t play ball. I’ll make you pay for that.” “You tell an overrated sex symbol the truth to his face and then he threatens you with violence.” Blyvy whispered. “What a dick.” Goldie added.
Ryan had begun mumbling to himself with the rest of the crew wondering what he was saying. Catya noted that the dirt around him was shifting in an upward spiral. “He’s reciting some type of incantation. It isn’t from that… let’s call it the ‘Scottish play’; but it’s some type of incantation.” Madler noted that whatever it was, its effect was leaving some straight female and gay male mob members still like the Terracotta Army of China. “Apparently, witchcraft comes with being overrated.” he said.
Blyvy commanded some of the members not affected by Ryan’s incantation to throw their knives in his direction. As feared, a barrier had formed around him protecting him from projectile attacks. She decided to play dirty by having Goldie present him with an Oscar that was actually one of Dolly’s crafted bombs. “This is for you Mr. Gosling. I insist.” Fortunately, he was dumb enough to take the bait. McRay had spotted, then snatched the source of Ryan’s mysticism; a cufflink on his left sleeve that was actually a talisman. Those affected by the talisman had been freed from it. When he realized he had been duped, Dolly detonated the bomb.
The blast was enough to send him exactly fourteen and a half miles from the grounds. The crew had half of the mob destroy what was left, while they pursued Ryan’s body. When the crew got there, they found him on his last breath.
“You cowards…that’s all you are. Nothing but cowards with hate in your heart.” he said.
“Shut up and die!” Catya shouted. “Your death will be the reason our spawn and us will have our hardships absolved.”
“How do you know you didn’t give your spawn more hardships?” he replied.
“What the hell are you talking about?” she queried.
Ryan’s thought on the matter was that even if they succeeded, if it had to take slaughter and conquest to do so. “That’s our thing, Mr. Gosling.” Michelle said.
“Yeah, in case you couldn’t tell…” McRay began. “We’ve been doing this because the ends justify the means in our case.” Ryan softly but sternly replied, “Why at the cost of so many others just to make yourselves ‘clean’ or absolved?” David retorted, “For being so preacher like, you have some cojones to use guilt against us.” He knew his tactic was exposed. “Ok, so maybe I did try to wage some type of ‘war’ against you mentally.” “To which we handed your ass on a platter like we were Great Britain and you were Zanzibar.” Dolly said. “Or like Rome did with Carthage!” a mob member said. “Or like The Crusades did to those in their way!” another mob member added. “Or like the iPod did with the Zune!” yet another mob member shouted.
He had reached his boiling point. “Oh shut the fuck up! I’m in the middle of my last words on Earth and here I am being beaten like the dead horse.” “Now your last words are an insult to horses. I hope there’s a place in hell for you just by saying that.” Goldie added. Exhausted and defeated Ryan merely accepted his death. “You all better celebrate now.” As he lay dead, his last words came to ominous fruition as the crew and mob looked on to see droves of enemies they knew they’d have trouble defeating.
By the time the other half of the mob was done, they had been warned to keep running alongside them.
“Who are we running from?” a mob member asked.
McRay replied, “The one type of enemy that has been more dangerous in relation to pop culture…pissed off housewives.”
The Real Pissed Off Housewives of the Contiguous U.S. had their sights set. “Mr. Gosling had done nothing to you and now you’re going to die by us!” their leader said. “For the love of God, everyone run!” Michelle commanded.
The chase began and everyone was fleeing for their lives. They were up against
no ordinary foe. These were the types of women who devoted their lives to Oprah, Deepak Chopra, Doctor Oz and even worse Ryan Gosling. The crew and mob had a good lead on The Real Pissed Off Housewives of the Contiguous U.S. but it would be at a terrible cost. During the rampage, Matthew had broken a credo that only Sydell Rober had broken before him; self inflicted death. He had performed a kamikaze, diving in to a crowd of pissed off housewives to combat them. The others had cringed at the last mistake he had ever made. “That fucking idiot thought he had to do this.” David thought. “What a sad way to end your existence, Matthew. You goddamn moron.”
The crew would flee for their lives day in and day out. Average, lackadaisical motels would become pit stops not fit for a leper. Dolly feared she was next to perish. At first glance, none of the crew or mob recognized any of the pissed off housewives. That was until a woman locked eyes with Dolly. She recognized her as she was Kirk’s mother. At every pit stop, Dolly would toil and tinker to make her “Burt Wonderstones” more potent and explosive. “That bitch is going to haunt me while she breathes.” she thought.
On the fourth day of the chase, Dolly would unleash hell through a move known as “The Cinemaplex” where she released a “Burt Wonderstone” for a “nationwide” audience. She urged mob members to move faster every time she released an explosive. Miraculously it worked; every detonation sent pissed off housewife after pissed off housewife to a hell they only saw in their own marriages. Screams reverberated, but none louder than Kirk’s mother who was vanquished when the last “Burt Wonderstone” was released. “You whore!” were the last words she ever said to Dolly. “Fuck you too, bitch.” she thought.
Try as they might, the crew knew that The Real Pissed Off Housewives of the Contiguous U.S. were going to catch them eventually. They made the decision to stop in a city
that became all too synonymous with violence and chaos; the city of Nueva Puta. It was a city that was consumed by its own wrath. Riots that broke out over sporting events were considered days where people could go streaking through a meadow. Deciding to play dirty, Catya told the city that the housewives were government agents searching towns with no type of warrant. They were skeptical at first, until Goldie uttered, “They killed my best friend.” Unaware that she was playing dirty as well, the city decided to combat the housewives as soon as they entered the heart of their downtown.
The crew and mob made it to Mt. Unwantedpregnancy only a few miles outside of Nueva Puta. They gathered near Forgodssakepullout Peak where they would see if the city would hold their word to vanquish the housewives. They looked through the telescope to see they would hold their word and then some. When the leader of The Real Pissed Off Housewives of the Contiguous U.S. approached the townspeople with attitude, they struck instantly. The beating, cleaving and all around hell unleashed on them was a thing of horrific beauty. The leader was subdued and forced to watch her comrades die before her eyes.
Several of them were beaten to death with tote bags filled with rocks and even some of Oprah’s Book Club selections. Those that didn’t die “luxuriously” faced meat cleavers. The steel would slice through the necks, arms and legs of them with a disgusting ease. If she wasn’t convinced her death was pending, the leader knew the screams of her fallen comrades would haunt her until God would take her life. The others would face the most gruesome death the townspeople imagined. Taking tattered cloths and soaking them in kerosene and chili powder, they force fed the remaining housewives “Thai Dishcloths”. The retching and agony would drive the leader to upchuck her gastrointestinal contents. “Make it end already! I can’t take the sights anymore.” she pleaded. They complied with sheer brutality with a move known as
“The Court of Public Opinion”. The move would involve every citizen of Nueva Puta punching, kicking and slicing the leader of housewives; continuing even after she died. One by one, they maliciously and deliberately ended her life. After half of the town had done their part she was bloodied, in tears and begging for angels to take her away. 15 more kicks, 18 more punches and 38 more slices it had been declared over. The Real Pissed Off Housewives of the Contiguous U.S. were no longer a threat to the crew and mob.
After receiving the confirmation from Nueva Puta’s head mortician, they headed back to the city to give their thanks. “We are so thankful for your assistance.” Dolly said. “You’re welcome.” he began. “Though I do need to know something from all of you.” “What is that?” Madler asked. “Was this all in a way to cleanse yourselves of past hardships or prevent future ones?” he queried. “Indeed it was.” Blyvy replied. “You don’t hate us for it, do you?” David asked. “No, I do not hate you for this.” he began. “Though I will suggest a journey to a spiritual high ground.” “What do you mean?” McRay interrogated. “There’s a borderline ghost town called Santa Paloma. Seek out the gateway and whoever is there will guide you through.” he replied.
After receiving directions, the crew and mob began the trek to Santa Paloma. 45 minutes later, they had arrived and Catya had instructed Michelle and Blyvy to try and find the path to the gateway. Blyvy eventually spotted a trail of jewels and Michelle found a scroll that would prompt them on how to find the gateway. Catya was given the scroll and read it aloud; “Whoever is reading this very scroll, I am going to give it to you in plain English. Follow the trail of jewels until you see me, Ramdao; Keeper of the gateway and Grandmaster of the Pegasus.” “Was a slightly challenging riddle out of the picture when he came up with this?” Charlie asked. “He explained that here…” Catya began. “Believe me when I say there would’ve been a riddle
here for you to solve. Unfortunately, too many idiots before you have tried to access the gateway through a riddle and ended up being road kill.” “Oh well, follow the jewels.” McRay said. The trail of jewels would stretch fourteen miles long until they finally heard a voice welcoming them. “Walk no more…I am Ramdao. Keeper of the gateway and Grandmaster of The Pegasus.” “Yeah, if we could read the disclaimer that the jewel part was true, we know who you are.” Blyvy remarked. “Very well.” Ramdao began. “What brings you here?” “We were told by the head mortician of Nueva Puta, you could help us out with ‘cleansing out spirits’ or some bullshit.” Charlie replied.
“Indeed I can help you and all your cronies cleanse you of all your hardships.” he replied. Ramdao went on to explain that through a self invented mix of Presbyterianism and Santeria, he had created a portal for those willing to repent. After repenting, he would open the portal and the person would step in and land in the near future; completely free of spiritual transgressions. McRay and Charlie planned who would go through the portal along with Ramdao. “Every person who had assisted with only the Derby Massacre...repent and you shall be freed!” he commanded. After they had repented, he asked one of the mob members to pluck a feather from a dead chicken on their behalf. “I thought Santeria involved killing the chicken as sacrifice.” he said. Ramdao replied, “I only borrowed a little bit from Santeria. Sacrifice is a bit much for me.” “That’s a Presbyterian for you.” a mob member snidely muddled. “Quiet you!” Ramdao responded. After plucking the feather, Ramdao opened the portal and each of them was mesmerized by the light. “You are seeing Elysium level lights; ‘profound shit’ as you would say. Go forth and each of you shall be set in the near future free from everything!” The mob leapt through and each of them vanished. Goldie checked the other side of the portal and found no one there. “This dude is either a Lich or legit. Either way it looks good.” she said.
The ritual continued with those who had only assisted in the Friedan Massacre then those who had hands in both. As the last mob member vanished, Ramdao counted the crew that was remaining. McRay, Charlie, David, Madler, Blyvy, Catya, Dolly, Michelle and Goldie made nine people left. “Can I take a feather for my teddy bear?” she asked. “I’ll allow it. No point in making it a three way for no reason.” he replied. “Nothing smarmy from the rest of you please.”
Goldie was the first to leave into the near future. She repented and Ramdao opened the portal. She saw her near future as she discovered her own room filled with more toys and such than her old house. “Is that my Uncle?” she asked Ramdao. “Indeed it is.” he began. “His house will become the place you thrive in until you reach success.” She waved goodbye to the others and disappeared through the portal. Michelle had opted to go with Dolly due to their mother daughter like bond. After taking the feather, the vision of the near future appeared before them. “You mean she doesn’t adopt me?” Michelle woefully asked. “That’s actually you and her adopting your little sister.” he replied. Catya lightly retched after that. “Sorry; Deus ex machina like this can make me a trifle queasy.” “You can’t loathe her for being dishonest.” Ramdao noted. Dolly and Michelle bid adieu to everyone and disappeared through the portal.
As he was balancing and reconfiguring the chi of the portal, he was prompted by Catya to postpone her and Blyvy’s trip to the near future. “What the fuck is she doing? It better not come to some lame as fuck ‘go on without me; I’ve finally found peace without a sword’ bullshit fruition.” she thought. Ramdao complied and asked David and Madler to repent and step forward.
Their near future showed them content in each others’ arms. “I look good for an old bastard don’t I?” Madler asked. “No shit, Sherlock.” David replied. “In case you two are wondering, you wouldn’t have adopted or had children whatsoever.” Ramdao said.
“Race you to the portal!” they said to each other. “Say goodbye to your comrades first, you foolish horn dogs.” Ramdao ordered. They faced their friends and fathers, gave their goodbyes and ventured through to their near future. McRay and Charlie were prompted to the portal. For them, it was a long time coming. They had seen everything of their cursed journey and the damned journey of their spawn together.
“You and I deserve nothing less than the best.” McRay said.
“I love it when you use complete sentences.” Charlie replied.
Catya lightly retched again. “You know it has nothing to do with you two being in a relationship. I just really hate tacky ‘foo foo’ moments like this.” “It counts as you being on the ‘Supermodel’ diet.” Ramdao added. She retched again because of his remark. “Tacky jokes make me want to be the cause of your death certificate being printed.” she woozily but firmly warned.
The feather was plucked and the portal revealed McRay and Charlie’s near future. They would be the only ones to return to Pansona Chingada. In addition to that, they would inherit a local bar from an acquaintance of theirs (who in an ironic twist was a bastard son of Zasalamel Sardo.) Before they set out, they gave the most proper goodbye to Blyvy and Catya. “I know we didn’t start off on the best of terms.” Charlie began. “In fact I remember you wanting to kill each and every one of us.” “That is true. Though if you were trying to end the turmoil your parents caused you, then found out they hired a really shitty con man to kill you, I doubt you’d’ve been thrilled to see them at first sight.” Blyvy noted.
All this time, Catya had grown uneasy. “Catya, what’s wrong?” McRay asked. “I need to repent much longer than everybody else.” she replied. “I can’t join the near future quite yet.” “When you do, we’ll only have good thoughts about you because repent or no, you are one scary bitch.” Charlie added. “Yeah...Kublai Khan with a uterus and everything.” McRay chimed.
The two faced the portal, took a deep breath and disappeared through it together. Ramdao was growing nervous about Catya’s resistance to going through the portal. Blyvy could sense a reason, but knew better than to rule on that alone without asking Catya.
“Mom...” she began. “What the hell is going on with you?”
“I need to repent far much longer than you think.” she replied.
“If this is about you fearing some tacky mother/daughter bonding, relax.” she said.
“Really? You don’t want to bond with me further than this?” she asked.
“No.” Blyvy began. “Mainly because I know enough about you now to form my own view about you. That view being you’re fucking insane.”
Catya hugged her daughter in a state of jubilation. “I knew you’d say those words to me eventually.” Blyvy was dumbfounded by her mother’s acceptance. She mouthed to Ramdao, “Do I say the part where I understand that she’ll always be my mother?” He advised against it, mouthing back, “Take this as her peace offering. I don’t have to open the fucking portal to know you’ll never get a chance like that again.”
Despite the moment of bonding, Catya stood by her original prompt to journey to the near future separately. Blyvy complied with this and she was asked to step forward. Plucking a feather, she was shown the near future she had. She would be the only one to retain her martial arts training, as she was revealed to open a dojo in Salieri Heights.
“I own a place that ritzy?” she asked.
“You do indeed, despite your lineage.” Ramdao replied.
“I’m still here you dick!” Catya shouted.
Blyvy bid farewell to her mother and disappeared to her near future. “Now Catya, it’s your turn to repent.” he said to her. “That part will take a while.” she replied.
Ramdao gave Catya ample time to repent for each sin and each spiritual transgression she harbored. “No sleeping while repenting.” he playfully mocked. Her silence was a relief for him as it proved even the once ruthless she-devil of the modern world had come to repent for her sins. Hours later, she emerged from the self imposed cleansing.
She plucked a feather from the dead chicken, and Ramdao for the last time opened the portal to the near future. She saw that despite her prompting to travel separately, those that meant something to her (as in not being fit for death) would remain in some form of her life. She turned to Ramdao and said, “Thanks for all your help you Gandalf the Grey knockoff.” He smiled and cheekily replied, “And a farewell to you, you cosplay looking psychopathic, bloodthirsty, irrational, vociferous, malice-ridden...”
“While I’m young you asshole!” she shouted.
“And just plain fucking crazy bitch. You happy now?” he finished.
“To think you could flatter someone like me.” she uttered.
“Get in the fucking portal and out of my life now!” he commanded.
Catya went through the portal and had seen the vortex everyone else had seen before settling in their new present day lives. Colors around her that had her thinking, “Is this a portal or Johnny Weir’s asshole? So many rainbows and colors...oh wait. No trace of Johnny himself. Still, holy shit.” She continued to see a world which looked like someone melted a set of Crayola crayons with a flamethrower bought from hell or the 1980s. She spotted a tunnel light ahead and wondered if Ramdao had actually killed her through the portal. Luckily, it was where her near future was waiting.
“There was no turning back when I let a Gandalf impersonator had me pull a feather from a dead chicken.” she thought. She then came to in her near future in the village of Kahlo.
Ramdao had kept score on each of the crew years after they had traveled through the portal. As he expected, no one had dare screw up livelihoods they knew they weren’t entirely deserving of now.
Catya especially proved that even those with her level of mental issues, can be cleansed. Her livelihood in the village of Kahlo had been a relatively content one as the village crank. Every day until she died, she would befriend the social outcasts behind closed doors and slandered anybody passing her abode.
“You’re going to be a failure!” she would shout frequently. “You wouldn’t have enough money for a whore to scream your name!” Eventually, she died in the middle of insulting another miscreant. “I’d rather die now than fuck you with the lights on!” Her dying breath became the most brilliantly timed effrontery the village of Kahlo would ever see.
Dolly and Michelle would go on to have a healthy relationship as mother and daughter. When Michelle turned 18, she said “Bye Mom! See you when I become a repeat divorcee!” “The hell you will, young lady.” she replied. “I’m just kidding Mom.” Dolly chimed. “Take care of the other one real good.” “My name’s Jamie, you bitch.” she said. “You know I’m kidding Jamie, bye!” Dolly assured. “I’m going to my room. This is some bullshit.” Jamie said.
“Jamie...” Dolly began. “What have I said about bad words?”
“Use them only in a joke or when you pay your taxes under your breath.” she replied.
“That’s right. Now if you turn that frown into a smile, I’ll buy you some fast food.” “Ok, Mom...this smile big enough?” Jamie asked. “Of course it is.” Dolly replied.
In Salieri Heights, Blyvy’s dojo was thriving with misfits and outcasts having a place to unleash their bottled fury. “Very good class. A little less cussing in your formations, but other than that I see nothing wrong with how you’ve done.” After that day of practice, one of her
students asked her advice on something. “What do you do if you have a bully problem?” the student asked. She responded, “What type of bully problem do you have?” “I keep kicking their asses when they pick on me.” the student replied. “Self defense is not a bully problem.” Blyvy said. “Oh.” the student said. “Thanks sensei Blyvy! See you next week!”
As for Goldie, life became stagnant but she grew to accept that. “At least I’m not running from bad people with weapons anymore.” she thought. Her uncle called her downstairs; “Goldie, your weekend parents are here.” She was surprised to see Madler and David at the door. “What are you guys doing here?” “We came to take you to the arcade today!” David replied. “Why is that?” she asked. “Your uncle has a bit of talking to do with some people later today.” Madler replied. “You’re not involved with the mob are you?” she asked her uncle. “No, no Goldie.” he began. “I have to deal with the divorce lawyers again.” “Oh...well good luck!” she said. “Take good care of her while I deal with the bullshit.” her uncle pleaded.
The trip to the arcade would have a surprising reunion between father and son as they ran into McRay and Charlie. “Oh; hi Dad.” David said to McRay. “Well isn’t this some shit?” he replied. Charlie queried, “Is Goldie’s uncle dealing with mob threats or something?” “No, much worse.” Madler began. “Divorce lawyers?” McRay replied. “Wow, how’d you know?” David wondered. He answered, “Son, if you learn nothing else from me, know this. The only group of men in suits worse than the mob to straight men are divorce lawyers.”
“Look, whack-a-bitch!” Goldie said.
“Whack-a-mole Goldie. It’s called whack-a-mole.” David said.
“We should be thankful we never adopted children.” McRay began. “But at least Goldie is one of the good ones worth babysitting.” “Agreed.” Madler said. “Oh and in case you’re wondering, the mini golf course windmill is great for sex.” Charlie said. “Yeah, but it only gets
good once you get past the smell of honey and ketchup.” McRay added. Madler and David merely snickered before McRay and Charlie caught on. “Atta boy! Getting his public play on like his old man!” McRay said cheerfully. “Oh well, we better check on Goldie before whack-a-mole becomes smack-a-bitch.” Madler said. “Run into you again sometime?” David asked. “Eh, why not.” Charlie replied. “I have enough free time since watching over his crazy ass has involved less blood on the ground.” “Not to mention a reduced percentage of running on our feet from pissed off housewives.” Madler noted.
“Go on and watch your kid.” Charlie lightly urged. “She’s causing a ruckus.”
When they looked, Goldie was actually causing a ruckus trying to rip someone’s head off when the Iggy Azalea/Cassadee Pope memorial tribute CD was being played. They were able to pry her off of the potential victim in time. “Sorry everyone.” they said. “Sometimes when she hears music she doesn’t like, she likes to...well ‘play’ a little rough with the person playing the music.” David said.
Goldie offered a truce: “Keep that shit turned down and I won’t rip your fucking head off.”
Madler chimed, “Aren’t children alarmingly precious?”


Peace Without A Sword Act II Part I

The crew’s journey to the center of Balboa Perla had begun and each one of them had been seething with bloodlust. Blyvy, Madler and David were especially seething as this would prove to be the end of their hardships. McRay, Charlie, Dolly and Catya were dead set on the score they never thought they would have. “To think it took my bastard spawn and the others’ bastard spawn to do this.” Catya thought.
Michelle and Goldie weren’t as grimly enthusiastic about the conquest against the Grammys. To them, this was an action movie that they wanted out of badly. “I shouldn’t have to feel like the fucking cast of ‘The Expendables’ or ‘Transformers’ right now.” Michelle thought. “Anytime you can sympathize with Sylvester Stallone is grounds to ask for a hug; around the neck; with a rope.”
As for Goldie, she had mainly become observant; speaking only when she wanted sustenance and sleep. “I’m worried about Goldie so much.” Dolly said. “You can worry about her all you want.” Catya began. “However, she’ll turn out how she will from this. Growing up that quick is something we’ve all done. She’ll get through this like we will.” Dolly reluctantly concurred, but she still took great pity on her. Goldie thought to herself, “I wonder if heaven has enough shopping for my mommy to do. Maybe she can get that funny bag with the ‘C’ all over it.”
Moments later, the crew had reached the center of Balboa Perla. Looking at the surroundings, they would see that the entire city would require destruction. “Oh look at this fucking place.” Blyvy said. “It looks like a hipster and a Las Vegas crime boss had a circle jerk with a box of crayons.” David added.
The crew had then located a parking garage where they could easily disguise the dune buggy as a regular street vehicle. After gathering their bearings, they knew better than to walk in a building like the Nomi Malone Event Planning Firm unprepared. “This is how much we know.” McRay began. “Somewhere on the 18th floor of this place is where the Firm and the Grammy Foundation are meeting. We need to infiltrate the building and find out every schematic of the event grounds.”
“Not if that giant bitch coming towards us has anything to do about it.” Madler noted. A woman in business wear with a permanent “Type A” disposition was setting her sights on them all. “What do you think you’re doing, consorting and contemplating on these grounds?” she roared. “What’s it to you bitch?” Michelle said. “That’s Ithaca Franc to you, little girl.” she replied. “I suggest you high tail the fuck out of here.” “Who the hell is going to make us leave?” Catya asked. Her answer came when Ithaca’s cronies made themselves known.
“Looking for trouble?” A Mohawk sporting crony asked.
Catya responded by throwing her ring blade at the crony’s head and successfully chopped her Mohawk down to less than four inches. “Nice haircut, don’t you think?” The crony had grown furious and without thinking had charged toward Catya. Before she even clenched her fist, she had been decapitated. “Looks like I got the rest of it didn’t I?” Ithaca was stunned, but not smart enough to call off the rest of her cronies. A burly street fighter, a black belt in Tae Kwon Do, a woman armed with a katana and a man revealed to be the last Zatoichi all came forward to do battle. The street fighter would end up being decapitated like the Mohawk sporting crony. The Tae Kwon Do black belt was merely thrown out of the parking garage and landed in a dumpster; dying from the impact. The woman armed with a katana had fared slightly better. However, that only applied to how long she had evaded death. She would end up being disemboweled.
Catya knew the Zatoichi would last longer than the rest. “Get any diatribe you have out of your system.”
The Zatoichi complied but decided to use psychological warfare against her whenever she went in for an attack. “Why must you satiate your cravings in life with the blood of others? Does it bring you relief?” “You tell me, you racial stereotype.” she replied. “What if I were to tell you that you only attack out of revenge?” he asked. “No shit Sherlock, but let me ask you something. Do you realize that I haven’t been attacking at all?” she asked. “Oh no. Is this one of those things where it turns out they somehow switched bodies in some form of convoluted plot development?” Blyvy queried. “No she’s just that psychotic and manipulative to even a Zatoichi.” Dolly replied. “Watch what she does next.” McRay added.
Catya beckoned the Zatoichi to feel out where he was. “I am at a light. Perhaps this is where the crosswalk is located.” She threw her voice to the other side of the street. “Come over here. I have to tell you a blind joke before I kick your ass!” He rushed not realizing that would be the last mistake he would ever make. An 18 wheeler had honked his horn, and by the time he realized his death was looming, it had come.
Ithaca was rendered speechless and livid. “Some of my best cronies have been killed in less time than I could ever imagine.” She then challenged Catya and the rest of the crew to a no holds barred fight. “Bring it on you motherfuckers. I no longer fear the chance of death.” Goldie sensed that this was not the time to be involved. Her instinct told her to carry on with the original mission. She did tell Dolly, “I’m going to get started for you guys. If you must, try to send her to hell. My mommy and daddy don’t need this bitch making noise in heaven.” Goldie grabbed the information and was on her way.
The crew was set on rendering Ithaca lifeless. Michelle started by using the katana left
behind by the woman much better than she had. She went in and ended up lacerating Ithaca’s arm. “You little bitch!” she shouted. She went in for a kick and landed a slight nick on her. Blyvy the proceeded to twist her ankle until it snapped. Her scream was melodic to Blyvy’s twisted mind.
Ithaca freed herself long enough to draw her handgun and began shooting at the crew. All of the members were able to evade her bullets. “This bitch is annoying me.” McRay thought. He whipped his Makarov pistol out and waited for Ithaca’s next clip to empty. As soon as he heard an empty set of clicks, he struck. He fired a bullet in her left shoulder; then her right shoulder; then her twisted ankle to add further pain. The last bullets he fired were enough to hit her chest and jettison her from the parking garage. Her body hit the ground with a “splat” sound. Her blood had served as a reminder that the crew was only on the surface of the hell Balboa Perla was bound to see.
Throughout this whole ordeal, Goldie had successfully infiltrated the meeting room. Posing as the daughter of a representative, she lied her ass off to ensure the plans would be explained to her in vivid detail. “My daddy said to help him take notes while he’s out trying to park the car.” The people present were stupid enough to buy the ruse hook, line and sinker. Goldie would learn that in light of the Valkyrie NightHaus and Sao Solstice du Antwerp Cabana incidents, security was being increased to proportions not seen before in Grammy Award history. The meeting was over soon thereafter and Goldie was worried about the other crew members. “Sorry your daddy couldn’t make it to the meeting.” an executive said. “Could you make sure your daddy gets this ASAP? He knows what that’s grownup code for.”
She eventually made it back to the parking garage and found the crew exhausted in the dune buggy. “Sending her to hell was that hard?” she queried. “Well I know what’s up.”
As she explained the newly ramped up security and additional setbacks, the crew had momentary doubts about the score. “We’ve never taken on actual security along with fans before.” McRay said. “20 guards per entrance? There’s only two so we’re taking on 40 guards?” Charlie noted. “When are you going to stop pretending like we have an actual problem on our hands?” Catya lackadaisically queried. “Well we actually have a problem.” Dolly began. “Our only shelter is our dune buggy.”
Blyvy turned to Goldie and asked, “Do you have any type of extended family in Balboa Perla?” She replied, “I think so...but I wouldn’t know where to start looking.” They decided to try and see if any of Goldie’s predecessors had settled in this city. After poor luck searching through phone books, asking townspeople and scourging through abandoned houses, they determined Goldie had no family here.
Eventually they decided to set up in the last abandoned building they had searched. “This is only a step in the right direction.” Michelle said. “Speaking of which, when we kill One Direction would it be considered a hate crime?” Dolly asked. “No it wouldn’t. None of them have confirmed or denied if they’re gay.” Catya began. “Besides, we’d be killing a boy band and there is no such thing as a proper English sentence with boy band and hate crime both in that sentence.” “You’re so eloquent when you want to be.” Charlie snided. “Stop being mean and go to bed please.” Goldie said. Blyvy looked at Dolly and said, “At least she’s speaking. Petulance is a bit better than just being mute.”
As the crew slept that night, they swear a force against them had been lurking in this building. A shriek had been enough to wake them in to ready position. They listened for another shriek to track it down. Instead, what made them speechless was the reanimated corpse of an old enemy within. Victory had returned to do battle with Madler. “The bitch is mad.”
Madler said. “You left me dead in a burning bookstore with a dagger in my pussy! Of course I’m pissed off at you!” she roared. “You wanted out of the group so I took care of you.” he replied. “That was no excuse to stab me in the pussy, you fucking asshole!” she roared back. “True, but you shouldn’t have had the gall to abandon us back before we even left the bookstore.” Madler replied. “Get to the part where one of you dies.” Blyvy began. “Preferably you Victory; you die, we move on to the next plot point.” “Fuck you Blyvy.” she replied.
Victory and Madler’s rematch would actually prove to be longer than expected. Her reanimated being had been enhanced with the spirit of a black belt in Kuk Sool Won. Madler was able to evade her strikes, but he had begun to run out of breath. “This bitch is insane even when dead.” he thought. “I have to locate the bitch’s weak point and fast.” As their bout continued, Madler studied the reanimated body up and down and saw nothing with the naked eye. He allotted time for himself every time his kicks landed. “Can anybody help me out in spotting her weakness so we can move on to the next goddamn plot point please?” he intensely queried. “What’s the vaguely Greek mythology based term for someone’s fatal flaw?” David hinted.
Madler realized the answer and shot Victory in the heel. Her scream indicated that the bout would be no more. He approached her and said, “Now don’t fuck with our plot development anymore you goddamn bitch!” The shot to her head only confirmed that Victory was once and for all gone from their sights. He asked David, “How did you figure out a shot to her heel was the weakest area on her?” David responded, “A haphazard villain that pops up at a seemingly justified point in history to guilt trip us over how we caused their demise?” Madler asked, “It isn’t supposed to have a sophisticated and beautifully thought out origin?” “No, goddamnit.” Catya replied. “Now shut the fuck up and go to sleep!”
The crew awoke to convene on how they would adjust their plans of the final score.
“We need to be able to save energy to kill off all of the overrated crap that will be present.” Charlie said. “Anybody have any ideas on how to do this?” “We can try to create a new mob to assist us with this.” Dolly said. “Sounds easy, but we’d have to convince a lot of people to side with us.” Catya noted. “Add to the fact we just fuck everybody up and leave behind blood soaked walls, buildings on the verge of ruin and enough bodies to aide every forensic science major in the U.S. twice...” “We get the point...” McRay began. “...but we need cohorts of our own. None of the Derby and Friedan Massacre cronies are alive so we might be fucked.”
“I think you’ll be ok.” Goldie said. “What do you mean?” Catya asked. “I remember seeing one of the other note-takers wearing a funny logo.” she replied. “I think I have a card where it appears next to Nomi Malone’s name.” After Goldie had given the notes, McRay examined the card and found a glimmer of chaotic hope. “A member of the Friedan Mob is alive! Now we need to track his ass down!”
They drove to the firm to see if he was by some chance working. They sent Goldie and McRay posing as father and daughter. He showed the receptionist the card of the employee; the receptionist responded, “He is in today. He’s based on the 18th floor, third office from the left.” They made it to the 18th floor to discover their intended person was about to leave for a break. As soon as he made eye contact with McRay, he was stunned.
“May I help you?” he tepidly asked.
“Depends. You remember what you had to do at the Friedan?” McRay replied. “Come with us. Clock out while you’re at it; some friends and I have questions for you.”
  He complied and met up with the crew who had been waiting in the same parking garage where Ithaca Franc had met death. “In case you forgot, my name is Matthew and I helped you with the Friedan Massacre.” “Matthew, the katana enthusiast or Matthew the reformed juggalo?”
Charlie asked. “Matthew, the katana enthusiast.” he began. “I didn’t think I’d be needed for anything else after the Friedan.” “Well you have our bastard children and their friends to thank for getting us back into this.” Dolly said. “I suppose I should be mad.” Matthew replied. “Well, you can’t entirely be mad. We did point out that once you’re in, death is the only way out.” Catya noted. McRay asked, “Aside from you, do you know of any other surviving Friedan or even some Derby Massacre assistants?” “I do indeed, but most of them did break a certain credo by having accounts on Facebook.” Matthew replied. “What?!” Catya shouted. “They sold out?!” “I have Twitter myself, but I learned Twitter doesn’t equate to selling out.” Matthew added. “Thanks for that bittersweet lesson.” Blyvy said. “Now where the hell are the surviving members?”
Matthew directed the crew to a hangout of Derby and Friedan Massacre assistant survivors; the quaint but edgy Morgendorffer Bar and Grille. Charlie asked, “Does Daria reluctantly manage this place where the special is the ‘Kitchen Sink’ soup?” A gentleman quipped, “I give you credit for the reference. Let that be the only credit an American doesn’t default on.” “Lestat...I mean Norman! How’ve you been?” Charlie replied. Slowly, the crew was reunited with every surviving assistant of the Derby and Friedan Massacres. Catya decided to set the mood for the rest of the evening.
“We all remember what we did to certain theatres harboring certain things we deemed cultural malefactors. It has come to my attention that apparently, a certain part of the credo made on those days has been broken. Our katana enthusiast Matthew tells us, that with the exception of himself...the rest of you motherfuckers have an account on Facebook.” The crowd was speechless. “Don’t lie to me now you motherfuckers! Ethically, I should have the rest of us wipe your lucky asses off the Earth.” The crowd pleaded forgiveness from Catya.
“However, we need your help with our fabled final score...” she continued. “You mean you and the crew need us to help you wipe out the Grammys?” a voice projected. “You bet your sweet ass we do!” Catya replied. “As I said, we need your help. You are the only people that can help us and you do serve as an asset. However, if you want to be taken seriously, you will delete your Facebook accounts here and now. I don’t give a fisherman’s fuck how many ‘likes’ you’ve gotten on a comment that is erudite but humorous in content. I don’t give a fisherman’s fuck how many of your photos and shit you think is on private mode. I don’t give a fisherman’s fuck how many of your exes you stalk, how many assholes you deny friend requests to or any other pointless activity you’ve done in the first four minutes on Facebook today. To side with us, you must delete your accounts here and now!”
“Now that the crazy lady is done, any questions besides the definition of a fisherman’s fuck?” Blyvy queried. “Well get to deleting your accounts on Facebook. For our sake and yours.” McRay ordered. The patrons complied and one by one, a renewed sense of purpose came over them when they had deleted their Facebook accounts. “Oh thank you for this you kind and peaceful souls you.” a kanabo wielding Derby assistant said. “Don’t fucking insult us like that.” Dolly replied. As Charlie began, “Now as far as a place to stay...” he and the crew were told that the Morgendorffer Bar and Grille was habitable after hours. “Holy shit, thank you so much...” “Smitty. I’d like you to call me Smitty.” he replied. “Hell all of you motherfuckers are welcome to stay here.” The crew now had their army of blood thirsty cohorts ready to make their final score a reality.
“Just do me one favor everybody.” Smitty began. “If you decide to get sexually active, use protection. I don’t care about the smell too much; even if it’s a weird smell like blood orange and sriracha.” “Or honey and ketchup.” Michelle added. “Holy shit.” Smitty said.
As the crew and their reunited cohorts were sleeping, Matthew was having an intense vision. He knew enough to where his dream was trying to tell him something. However, he could not tell if this was an omen or a warning. He had seen nothing more than screaming individuals over a presence with blond hair. As soon as the vision dissipated, Matthew woke up Dolly and explained what he had seen. “Blond hair with everyone screaming, right?” she queried. “Yes. A blond man whose very presence makes people scream.” Matthew replied.
They decided to use the LMFAO Horde Mission phone to look up any correlating images of the man. “Is this man famous?” she asked. “I want to say he is indeed famous.” he said. After typing in “famous blond men” into Google Images, one of the results had Matthew terrified. “The 3rd image from the left hand side down. That is the man who had people screaming.” he said. The man Matthew saw causing people to scream was the actor Ryan Gosling. “The man must die indeed.” Dolly began. “You have warned us of something far greater than our demise. The presence of this man potentially screwing things up for us.” As the rest of the patrons awoke, Dolly relayed the information to them as Matthew had told her.
“We now have new reason to believe the final score will be bigger for each and every last one of us.” she began. “The man known as Ryan Gosling appeared in Matthew’s dream as a man who during the final score caused people to scream in either panic or jubilation.” A voice from the crowd questioned, “Ryan Gosling? You’re telling us we need to fear the man who starred in ‘The Notebook’?” Another voice added, “What are you going to tell us next? We should be afraid of Care Bears?” Yet another voice chimed in, “Bitch you crazy! Ryan Gosling has nothing but overrated sex appeal and mediocre acting skills. That’s like telling us to be afraid of Channing Tatum.” Dolly understood them but then proceeded to say, “Oh he has people go nuts in ways no other overrated sex symbol has before.” She showed them images of protesters
outside of People Magazine. “Are they protesting body image issues the magazine perpetuates?” a reasonable but naïve voice queried. “Keep looking.” Dolly replied. “They’re in masks resembling his face. What the hell is going on?” another voice said. “This is baffling all of us, Dolly. What the hell is going on?” yet another voice asked. Dolly answered, “These people are outside protesting against People Magazine’s decision naming Channing Tatum the ‘Sexiest Man Alive’. They all feel Ryan was ‘ignored’ again; it is one of the dumbest gatherings of people I’ve heard in years.” “Even dumber than Coachella?” a voice wondered. “Even dumber than the Kids Choice Awards?”another asked. “Even dumber than any pop culture related gathering you can imagine.” Dolly responded.
“So what does this mean?” Blyvy asked.
“Our final score has a side mission; destroy Ryan Gosling.” Dolly said.
“It’s about 5 hours until the Grammys begin.” McRay said. “Everybody ready to roll out of this place?” The crowd concurred with a sound of mob enthusiasm not heard since the halcyon of the Roman Empire.
The crew, cohorts and even Smitty left the Morgendorffer Bar and Grille ready for battle. Each person was seeing their lives flash before their eyes. Many could see themselves as the relatively happy children they all used to be. Eras of their lives where they were given a cute sense of clemency for their outspokenness. Moments in their lives where crayons were only seen on drawings that were placed on refrigerators and not on any celebrity outfits. The moments in their “rebellious teenage years” where they were introduced to sex outside of a bedroom. “Here comes the good part.” one mob member thought. “Wow; I never knew his car was that crappy compared to the other ones I was inside of.” another mob member thought. “I always wondered if he ever came out to his parents.” yet another mob member thought.
Their march toward the grounds had some roadblocks along the way. A group of twisted individuals were lined up cheekily but very evilly saying “Red Rover, Red Rover; let any dissenters of the late Justin Bieber come over.” “We have Defcon 5 level of…what’s their tacky acknowledgement again?” Catya asked. Madler replied, “Those little bastards are known as ‘Beliebers’. Christ, I need a book and a cold shower for just uttering that phrase.” “You know what to do everybody.” McRay said. “If any of you die now, you’ll be remembered as heroes for trying to defend yourself against such vile creatures.” Charlie added.
The full force of the crew, cohorts and Smitty were enough to slaughter every last Belieber present as road block that day. Shrieks instead of screams proved that they were indeed ridding the world of truly vile organisms. “Gross! I’m covered in inferior genetics!” a voice said with disgust. “I paraphrase from Genghis Khan; get over yourself and get back in line!” Dolly commanded.
Their next potential roadblock came in the form of a more organized but still easy enemy to vanquish. “What are they?” a mob member asked. Blyvy enlightened, “These are jaded lovers of classic rock; KISS, Queen, Led Zeppelin, etc.” “What died up their asses?” he replied. “They think every piece of music after c. 1989 is utter trash and filth that depreciates the overrated crap they enjoy.” she answered. Blyvy motioned to Catya to carry out “Operation: Sonar” while commanding the mob to don their headphones. Catya unleashed a barrage of offensively trite pop music handed by one of the mob members (who at the time acquired it by taking it away from their younger sibling). The auto tune laced, erratic vocal patterns of Ke$ha had done its job of making the ears of the mob’s enemy bleed. The blood had started as mild drippings from their head, but by the time the second song played the blood had turned into a macabre Niagara Falls. “Oh God, stop it!” were the last words of all the jaded classic rock lovers.
Their next roadblock although boastful, proved to be even easier than defeating the Beliebers. “What are we dealing with now?” a mob member asked. “Internet trolls away from their computers.” Madler replied. “Why are they hacking up phlegm and snorting like pissed off warthogs?” they asked. “The oxygen of the outdoors is foreign to them and the natural sunlight is causing them to have negative and violent reactions.” Charlie replied. “What do we do to defeat them?” another mob member began. “I don’t want to use my weapon against those things.” “On the count of three, hide behind your shields.” Charlie said. “You mean ignore those damn things?” a mob member asked. “Exactly.” he said. When he counted to three, the mob hid behind their shields. The shields acted like a magnet to the sunlight. Charlie then commanded everyone to turn their shields in the direction of the trolls.
The sunlight burned the trolls to a crisp. Their speech patterns emitted sounded worse than Ke$ha having been blasted to kill the jaded classic rock lovers. “I heard…you ‘liek’ mudkipz.” was the last and most baffling phrase emitted from the trolls. “What the hell did those things say?” a mob member asked. “They were just being silly thinking we liked a Pokémon called ‘Mudkip’. Everybody knows Pikachu is the best one followed by Snorlax, Squirtle, Bulbasaur and Charizard.” Michelle replied. “Why is Charizard 5th best?” another mob member asked. Michelle firmly replied, “That’s because Charizard is a dick. Not as bad as a group of Zubats in a cave, but Charizard is a dick.”
The final roadblock involved a group of people not even the crew had done battle with before. “Are we battling the press?” Dolly wondered. “Oh no, princess. Much worse…much worse than the press.” The crew was facing down the subscribers and founder of and some mob members were horrified. “I thought they all died out years ago.” they collectively said. “The rest of you, kill their cohorts.” Catya began. “Perez is mine.”
The mob had very little issue vanquishing Perez Hilton’s minions. Catya knew he would be easy to rid of, but she decided to take her sweet time slaughtering him. “Listen here you slithering excuse for sperm and egg!” she began. “You and your cronies are not preventing us from settling our final score. You want to die quickly, give up now. You want to die quickly with a smile on my face? Be stupid enough to fight me.”
He replied, “I’ll play ball. Besides, I have more to say to Azealia Banks anyway.” His statement threw Catya into a rage. “What the hell have you been doing to her?” “She used the word faggot against me and I was trying to tell her she should know better than that.” he replied. That statement made Catya go apeshit. “You of all people shouldn’t be fucking lecturing anybody on using that horrible word!” “What do you mean?” he helplessly replied. “You called that terrible word ; he’s a pussy hound and you know it!” she roared. “Don’t you think Azealia bears any responsibility?” he inquired.
Catya’s response was chopping the head of Perez Hilton clean off. “Not to anybody like you, dickhead!” she roared. Her final move was a touching but tacky piece of symbolism. She stomped on his decapitated head, making sure she could hear the skull crunch. “Pretentious fucker! Lecturing people over a word you used against someone who is not even affected by it in its pejorative context. Go to hell!” Her last firm stomp only reaffirmed that he had died by her hands.
The mob had been watching her the whole time. “Goddamn, woman. You went all buckwild on his ass.” a mob member noted.
“Sorry about that.” she began. “Everybody ready to move on?”
The crowd concurred hoping they never pissed off Catya like Perez did. “I’ve had exes I want to piss off more than her.” a mob member said.
After hours of traveling and slaughter, the crew, cohorts and Smitty reached the outskirts that just beyond were holding the Grammy Awards. “You’ve finally made it haven’t you?” Smitty queried. “Indeed we have, Smitty. This is where everything is finally going to end.” McRay replied. “I’m glad at least you made it...” he began. “...because I can see the angels coming.” “Goddamnit Smitty, you are not going to die a tacky and clichéd death on our watch!” Blyvy began. “You want to live! Live! Don’t you decrease your heartbeat on me you motherfucker! Live! Live!” Smitty wouldn’t comply. “Let me die. I’m an old bastard who wasted his life chasing pussy left and right.” Goldie chimed in, “I don’t think you’re old.”
“You’re sweet for that one liner.” he began. “Take advice from me now, little girl; when you turn 18 never go on a car date with a fella. He’ll want to stick his piston in your engine at all costs.” “Thanks, Smitty.” she replied. “Oh and when you get to heaven, say hi to my mommy and daddy.” “I think he thinks he’s not going to heaven, Goldie.” Michelle said. “Though you are sweet for thinking wonderful things.” Smitty had wished everyone well on their final score and at his request, Blyvy cracked his neck ensuring his passing.
Catya took it on herself to deliver the last call to battle before storming the grounds. “Frivolity of watching a man plead for death aside, like Michael Jackson’s planned farewell tour that ended well...not as planned, this is it.” “Too soon, Catya. Too soon.” a voice said. “Want to end up like Smitty?” she replied. “That’s what I thought.” She continued to give the coronation that would lead to the grandest type of cacophony not even fathomed by the crew.
“Beyond these grounds lies the epicenter of cultural bitch slapping. You will be frightened by the types of people present. Acts like One Direction and really any crappy act nominated for a Grammy this year with the exceptions provided as ‘do not kill’ lists. Any artist not on the list, kill them. Any questions?”
A mob member asked, “Justin Timberlake isn’t on the list, but he is making music again. Does he really have to die?” Catya replied, “He is being killed not for ‘Suit and Tie’; although that doesn’t fucking help. What he will be slaughtered for are his SNL bits where he says ‘Come on down to __________ville!’ Even the one where Lady Gaga brought her own costume.” “The motherfucker must die for that!” the mob member replied. “Is it ok if I cry a little beforehand? I’m just happy he won’t die while in the middle of one of those SNL bits.” “I’ll allow you to cry.” she replied.
After settling that matter, the mob charged toward the Grammy Awards. Battle cries from the mob were said to have been heard in cities halfway around the world. Crowds present at the time of the red carpet were about to be in for a rude awakening. Displays of horror were all that were being seen as the first sets of security were trampled upon by the sheer force of the mob. Everyone only a few feet away from the first group began to warn the others. “For the love of God, everybody run!” they shouted. Gasps turned into screams that would be shortened by weapons entering them.
Hell was being unleashed as if the battle were to last 1,000 years. Instantaneously, the streets and venue of the Grammys had turned into the third world war. Jabs, stabs, kicks and slaughter were all that were seen even by members of the press unlucky enough to be present. “KRAP News live during what looks to be a disaster worse than not only the Valkyrie NightHaus and Sao Solstice du Antwerp Cabana; but even worse than the nefarious Derby and Friedan Massacres.” would be the last words uttered before an angry mob sect had beat him to death with the camera recording him.
Lacerations would be the most luxurious death doled out as many a group had tried fleeing. Mob size further reminded people that if they were present here, they would no longer be
on God’s Earth anymore. The color scheme for what was imposed was that of blood, decay, ruin and bedlam. “Keep going!” Blyvy shouted. “Ending this together benefits not only me and my comrades, but you as well!”
As the last units of security had vanquished, David had spotted One Direction trying to flee from the chaos. Motioning to Madler, they along with Matthew, Blyvy, Michelle, Goldie, Charlie, McRay, Dolly and Catya confronted the boy band. Trapping them using cargo net, they let the band know their lives would end. Despite their pleading, two of the crew each took a member of the band for their twisted disposal.
Madler and David forced the one who dated Taylor Swift to listen to the songs she had written about him. In due time, he had bled to death from his ears. Matthew and Blyvy subdued, beat and slashed the one known for his former hairdo across the belly. Michelle and Goldie cracked the neck and stomped on the one whose name sounded like “Nigel”. McRay and Charlie took runner-up in most fucked up by using a move only Vlad the Impaler had been known before. They took one of the remaining ones and positioned him to where a fractured street lamp would cause him to bleed to death from his anus. However, Dolly and Catya had to be number one.
They simply force fed the very last member of One Direction all the torn limbs from the bodies of those they slaughtered. “It tastes better than most English food, so shut the fuck up damn you!” Catya said. By the time his respiratory system finally gave out, the other mob members were disgusted. “Ew, you bitch.” a mob member said.
Before she could reply, they would be confronted by the one known as Ryan Gosling.

Peace Without A Sword Act I Part II

Hours later, they had reached the town’s outskirts. They debated on whether they should re-supply themselves or hold out until Pansona Chingada. Eventually, they were forced to flee. Angry mobs had formed in the outskirts, condemning the crew and the spawn for their actions. They made it out safely, but not before Dolly unleashed a powerful explosive. “Here, catch!” she maliciously and evilly grinned. The bomb created the diversion needed to secure their escape.
After what seemed like an eternity, they reached their home. The crew met separately from the spawn to discuss what had happened. “How exactly do we process what our bloodlines just did?” Charlie queried. “How did they manage to get us back into this...and do it as if they could’ve done it alone fifteen times over?” McRay added. “Our spawn do seem to be as ruthless as we feared.” Catya began. “I’m now wondering; could they really be invested in us with our Grammy score?”
“Why do you doubt them now?” Dolly asked. “Technically, if it hadn’t been for me, they would’ve never found this place. I didn’t doubt them then, and I won’t start doubting them now.” Catya retorted, “Bitch, the last thing you need is to get ahead of yourself. Kirk had to die so you could end up back here with them, remember?” “That may be true, but that doesn’t mean you get to determine when we have faith.” Dolly said. “Let’s figure out what brimming controversy is going to happen tomorrow. Round up our spawn and tell them to meet us in the living area.” McRay said.
After gathering everybody else, they used the LMFAO Horde phone to find out when their next attack was going to be centered on. What they discovered on the phone certainly caused concern. A message from an unknown number demanded they meet at the Valkyrie NightHaus. “I can’t get an exact match on identity, but they don’t have that many social media connections.” Dolly noted. “We should be safe until they try to fuck with us.”
They set out for their destination after Dolly’s reassurance. As they approached the vicinity of the Valkyrie, they soon discovered no trace of malice from the messenger outside. A girl waiting outside with nothing more than the clothes on her back and a teddy bear. “Even I’m ruling out a possibility of a decoy.” Blyvy began. “Nobody can be paid any amount of money to look that despondent.” They slowly approached the little girl to gage her m.o. “Little girl...did any grown-ups pay you in money or toys to do bad things to us?” David asked. “No, mister. I need your help.” she replied. “What’s your name?” Charlie asked. “My name is Michelle.” she began. “There is very good reason why I need your help.”
She went on to explain that her mother and father were killed in this nightclub after a stampede to escape the club fire. She elaborated that her parents were among those that assisted in The Friedan massacre; through that connection is how she knew to message them. “These people are fucking scum. I want them to pay for what they did to my parents.” she said. “If you need incentive or motivation, the band holding a concert in there is Mumford & Sons.” “We do hate them with a burning passion.” McRay said. Despite emulating to some degree, Madler was skeptical. “I don’t doubt your back story. However, I am going to ask you to help us help you.” “Am I going to have to hurt people too?” Michelle asked. “Indeed you will.” Madler replied.
She was reluctant to comply, but eventually agreed under the condition that she act as reconnaissance before having to slay anybody.
She led them through a side door leading to the lower level of the Valkyrie. Her senses proved to be a utility for them. When a pair of guards attempted to patrol, Michelle was able to size them up just by hearing their footsteps. David and his Sai were enough to render the two guards lifeless. They approached the grounds, knowing full well a room of enemies awaited them. “There’s no turning back now, Michelle.” Madler said.
As they opened the door, a bouncer the size of Oprah and with the height of Shaquille O’Neal glared at them. “Ok...I did forget to mention that sometimes Blondie is asked to guard the concert grounds.” Michelle said. “That gigantic thing is named Blondie?!” Madler asked. He confirmed his moniker by simply saying this: “Yo soy Blondie, pendejo. Que chingado quieres?” “Oh for fuck’s sake...” Catya began. “Necesitamos vamos a ir adentro. Mumford & Sons necesita morir.” Blondie responded, “Dame un arma.” “Quieres un hacha de combate?” Catya offered. “Es doble-bladed.”
After accepting his weapon, he and Michelle led them to the actual concert grounds. Catya translated from Blondie that because of the layout, escapes were almost impossible to access. He pulled out a taser and gave it to Charlie. Catya explained that there’d be only one chance to create pandemonium. “He says to aim for the banjo string and your mission will be a success.” Charlie was in prime position and when the view was exact, he shot the taser for the banjo string.
When it hit, the lead singer was killed in less than 15 seconds. The chaos from the scene brought smiles to their warped psyches. The other members of Mumford & Sons scrambling to escape, only to have the disorient result of their demise. Blondie noticed that there was a slight opening through a previously thought to be blocked off passageway. “Como se dice...let’s make like a tree and get the fuck out of here?” he said. “Sounds good enough to us.” Catya said.
Blondie chopped his way through all of the concert goers. Blood had stained the Valkyrie yet again. As the crew and spawn surveyed the escape route for potential traps, Michelle pulled Madler aside. “Can me and Blondie live with you? Even if it’s a town with a population no bigger than a recycling bin?” she asked. “Of course.” he began. “Besides, no one your age should know how to testify in a court of law.” David said, “Come on you guys. Get rolling!”
They would make it out of the Valkyrie unharmed. The wreckage they left behind indicated no one below the first floor did. The death of Mumford & Sons served as a reminder that the Grammy score was going to require so much energy of them.
As they trekked back to Pansona Chingada, they noticed a lone enemy in what was once the outskirts. Blondie grew impatient and told Catya, “Este chinagadero necesita morir. I’m going to make sure of that.” “Oh he’s bilingual.” Madler noted. “Now I can shit myself when he speaks in either Spanish or English.” When Blondie asked who he was, the enemy simply said “Someone those motherfuckers didn’t compensate.” He attempted to punch Blondie, but he was grabbed by the neck. “See who the fuck this pendejo is and see what he’s being such a puta about.”
He threw the enemy towards the crew and spawn. When he landed on the ground, McRay recognized him. “Zasalamel!” “You mean the motherfucker that diverted us until we found your asses?” David rhetorically said. Charlie looked at him and asked, “What the fuck are you doing here?” “I need my compensation for the job at hand.” he replied. “Oh get over yourself you asshole. If it’s a last minute favor, you aren’t getting shit for the job.” McRay said. “You must want to die by my hands.” Zasalamel replied.
As he began to draw his weapon, Blondie made sure he wouldn’t. Using his axe, he sliced Zasalamel down to his boots. “He was getting annoying.” Dolly and Michelle stared on in amazement. “Did you know he could do that with such ease?” she asked Michelle. “I didn’t want to think he could something like that easily.” she replied. Blyvy chimed in, “Well, take his shit and let’s head home.” “You mean what’s left of his shit?” Madler pointed out. “You say tomato and I say fuck you.” she replied.
As they scrounged what Zasalamel had on his person, they found his resources useful.
Like Arfur Foulksaycke before, Zasalamel was dumb enough to have an ungodly amount of money on his person. However, Zasalamel was even more inane to have left out a critical detail of his life. He had told the crew he was a mere scam artist/assassin for hire. What was neglected was his connection to an event planning firm used by the Grammy foundation frequently.
Posing as a coordinator, Michelle contacted the number of the foundation’s HQ. “Hello, I’m calling on behalf of Mr. Sardo. He’d like to know when the firm will be meeting with your foundation to plan this year’s ceremony.” The other end delivered every bit of information they desired. Their final score would be held at the end of the month. Guards are being reduced due to budget cuts. “Anything else has been sent to the firm’s HQ.” “Forgive me for asking, but it’s my first day working for Mr. Sardo. I’m on the field now, but where is the firm’s HQ?” Michelle queried. “Forgive me. The firm is based in Balboa Perla. About 1 and a half hours from Pansona Chingada.” the other end said.
The crew and spawn finally reached their home. Blondie and Michelle set themselves up for their new lives assisting some of the most nefarious figures in American folklore.
However, Michelle had pressing issues she needed help resolving. She asked to converse with Dolly and Madler when the others were busy contemplating. Hours later, she had questions she felt only they had answers to. “How old were you when you got into this?” “At 15. About where I think you are.” Dolly said. “Really?” Michelle began. “I’m almost 15.” “It’s true.” Dolly began. “I ended up having to kill my brother with an Uzi and my own hands. You will feel icky at times, but believe me when I say; that because of how fate has fucked you over, you will feel a sense of family with us.” Madler was happy for their connection, but was left wondering what Michelle wanted with him. “What gives with wanting to talk to me?” She replied, “Do you think
I’ll find a man like you have?” Dolly interjected, “Why can’t you ask me that?” “You bitches are nuts!” Michelle said. “I’m surprised any of you know men that have had sex with you!” “Good point, but goddamn.” Dolly replied. “So this is what female bonding is like.” Madler said. “Thank God, my porn collection has nothing but men in them.” He then explained to Michelle that while love is something worth having, “You’re 15. You’re supposed to think of a few more kid stuff. Like television and junk food.” “Thanks for talking with me, you two.” Michelle said.
The next morning, the crew, spawn, Blondie and Michelle discussed plans on what to do in Balboa Perla. Blyvy suggested unadulterated carnage. “As long as we get more information from the firm, who cares how we do it, right?” “Don’t be an idiot.” Catya began. “We don’t even know the fucking name of the firm.” “How the hell can that be? Michelle talked with a temp or something.” Madler said. “I could only read the number on his fucking business card.” Michelle replied. “Most of the card looks like Spanish had an orgy with Gaelic, Russian, Mandarin, Sanskrit, Aramaic and Latin.” David looked at the card and apart from chiming in with “Just say it all looks Greek to you.” surprised everybody by translating the card. “It’s called the Nomi Malone Event Planning Firm.” “What’s the most egregious element of that business front?” Dolly asked. “The fact that the bitch is still being name dropped.” Charlie replied. McRay added, “Those that have seen her say she’s an over the top cunt salad!” “People saw that ramera?” Blondie asked. “Apparently so and in a swimming pool no less!” Michelle replied.
After the banter, they agreed that attempting to rampage through to Balboa Perla made no sense. Therefore, every chance a canker sore to the cultural frontlines was reported about, that is when they would strike. Their first act was the memorial concert to Cassadee Pope and Iggy Azalea. Using the LMFAO horde phone, they were able to find out that the concert was being held at the Sao Solstice du Antwerp Cabana. Two and a half hours later, they finally arrived.
The crew told Blondie and Michelle to stay with Dolly to keep guard of the dune buggy and assist in the making of a “Burt Wonderstone” (a magical bomb that could decimate everyone). The spawn were assigned varied reconnaissance roles. Blyvy was to watch for the memorial organizers; David was to watch for audience size and gauging how much carnage to inflict; Madler was to check in periodically with the “producers of Burt Wonderstone”. When the organizers’ limo was arriving, Blyvy let it be known to the crew. “Ok everybody, time to do this shit!” Catya raced over to the limo and let her presence be known. “Yoo-hoo…body bags! Up here.” By the time they looked up in horror, McRay had pistol-whipped them in the temple killing them on impact. “Ok, we got rid of them.” Catya said. “Who’s next?” Charlie chimed in with, “Meet us at the entrance.”
After rounding up, Blyvy, Madler, David, Dolly, Michelle and Blondie, the crew was ready to finish off the concert goers. “Va a ir al infierno you cabrons!” Blondie shouted. His slicing through the crowd only marked that the Sao Solstice du Antwerp Cabana would end up much worse than the Valkyrie NightHaus. Charlie would toss Dolly toward an enemy and when she landed, she tore their heart out. “Look Charlie; I have a ‘heart-on’. Get it?” she evilly chirped. Charlie wouldn’t let Dolly have all the fun to herself. He kicked half broken beer bottles at crowd goers and simply watched their inane mobility patterns be the reason they bled to death. “Forgive the redundancy, but I could see that coming.”
David and Madler teamed up to finish a set of concert goers the best way they knew how; disgustingly. The worst move yet was performed that night; the “Vampire Facial”. It consisted of David piercing the necks of an enemy and gauging how much blood to use against them. Madler would then insert the blood intravenously through an enemy’s urethra. The agonizing pain would only intensify after another enemy was brought in; subdued through broken knees and given
Lockjaw. Then, Madler would pleasure the enemy with the intravenous blood to where their climax would enter the mouth of the subdued enemy. The standing enemy would die first then the subdued enemy would die after David would force a billiards cue ball down their throat. “You motherfuckers are sick in the head.” Blyvy said. “Now watch what I’m going to do.”
Blyvy would one up the “Vampire Facial” with a move named, the “Macau Necktie”. She cornered an enemy and using a deceptively flamboyant textile (that housed a chain weapon), would envelop the neck of her enemy. Every step she would take forward would cut off circulation and oxygen the concert goer wish they hadn’t wasted. Just when they thought Blyvy was done, she upped the ante by taking out a bottle of ipecac and forcing it down their throat. The violent shakes from the enemy would make it to where a “necktie” of vomit, ipecac and blood would end up dripping around their neck. Multiply the unfortunate yet stupid souls within Blyvy’s vicinity and 38 people ended up with a “Macau Necktie”.
Even with that, Catya would take the title of sickest and most macabre executioner. Using remnants of the others’ weapons, Catya slayed many with the “Siberian Smorgasbord”. After splashing ipecac on her ring blade, she spun it in the faces of enemies left and right. The vomit would then be spun back in their direction; most would die of asphyxiation. Those that hadn’t died soon realized they wish they had. Catya then added blood of those fallen to her ring blade, and then sliced the mouths of those standing. It didn’t seem fatal until they remembered the ipecac was still on the blade. The vomit would part their lacerations even more until their mouths hung by the thinnest threads. “You done yet, you sick whore?” McRay began. “Blondie’s crying because he wants you to stop.” “Ok; I’m done playing now.” she evilly chuckled.
By the time they escaped, the C.S.I. were disgusted at what they had left behind at the Sao Solstice du Antwerp Cabana.
While driving back to their homestead, they received a call on their phone. Michelle recognized the number; the other end representing the Grammy Foundation. This time, McRay decided to pump information. “May I help you?”
“Yes, I believe someone on behalf of Mr. Sardo spoke to me about the firm meeting up with our foundation?”
“Oh correct; I’m the assistant to the person you spoke to. Can I take a message?”
The other end once again provided everything they would need. The meeting was bumped up to two days from now in Balboa Perla. “You’ve been such a wonder. Take care of yourself.” he said. “Ew…” Blyvy began. “I don’t like language that obscene to me.” “Well we now have two days to prep for what Balboa Perla would see as the worst day of their lives.” he said.
They had reached their homestead in Pansona Chingada and after storing their weapons, decided to spiritually cleanse themselves. Blondie prepped a chamomile blend with a smidge of light hallucinogens that would last enough to hold them over until the two day mark for Balboa Perla. “Once we drink this, we’ll be seeing a lot of freaky shit…so no bitching or crying.” McRay said.
They drank the mix and one by one began to enter a trance that took them to a seemingly separate dimension. Each of them would end up in the same microcosm. Madler and David along with McRay and Charlie were joined together in a loving pose while held together only by a diamond strong tether. “Love is what keeps every union together.” Dolly read. “It’s so beautiful.” Michelle chimed. Blondie pointed how nicer Catya was acting in the trance world. “Look; mama y su hija.” Catya only said, “My little Blyvy...fucked up like her mommy but so much better.” Blyvy only cooed back to her mother. “Let’s try flying around this place. Wouldn’t that be so much fun?” Madler asked. “Let’s do that.” David began. “How about by that forest?”
“Yes, the forest would be ever so lovely.” Michelle said.
They flew toward the forest, noticing birds wearing pearls colored in scarlet and vermilion. “Those birds are silly. Pearls are for people.” Dolly noted. “How fucked up are we that we notice shit like that?” Catya asked. She turned to her daughter and said, “Blyvy, I wish you could do more than coo to me.” Blyvy uttered her first phrase in the trance world; “What’s Peggy Bundy doing in the forest?” They looked in the forest to find a woman shouting at her husband, “Al!” for thirty minutes.
After the shouting dissipated, they landed in the forest figuring out what they should do next. “Let’s study plant life and fuck afterwards, sugarcane!” Charlie said to McRay. He turned to the rest and said, “Do you mind if we...” The rest interjected and said, “Go ahead! Madler and David are going to do the same thing!” Madler and David studied the plant life to the East while McRay and Charlie studied the plant life to the West. “Look; rhododendrons.” David said. “It’s far too warm for those to be rhododendrons, sweetums.” Madler replied. “You’re right. I think they’re pretty, whatever the fuck they are.” David retorted. They decided to embrace in the field for the entire trance world to enjoy. McRay and Charlie noted how the sunflowers to the West looked like the sun the first morning after. “Remember that, sugarcane?” McRay asked. “I thought I called you sugarcane.” Charlie replied. “We both answer to sugarcane.” McRay retorted. “Oh babe...let’s play the game ‘Fuck in the Sunflower Patch’. We’ll both win.” Charlie proposed. Both couples assured the flowers weren’t the only thing getting fertilized.
Meanwhile, Blondie was leading the others in a skipping through dandelions and poppies. “I feel airy and kind of high from the poppies.” Michelle worried. “It’s ok, mija. Hop on my back.” he replied. “Look at Blyvy play in the fields.” Catya noted. “We must be on some good shit to notice whimsy not making our blood boil.”
Slowly, the crew came to sooner than expected. Catya noted that only a day had passed since they had drunk the mix. “Blondie…” she began. “…did you forget to carry a one somewhere while making the mix?” Blondie came to, and said, “Oops. Lo siento.” “It’s ok. We got pretty fucked up and now I feel dandy enough to cut someone’s head off.” Catya said. Blyvy came to her senses asking, “Why the fuck was I cooing for so long?” Michelle and Dolly woke up next with Dolly saying, “Even in the trance world I can’t get the smell of honey and ketchup out of my nose.” Michelle added, “At least it blends in with linen and whatever else musk those horn dogs exude.” Madler and David along with McRay and Charlie came to their senses. “Like fathers like sons, you all have the resemblance of glazed donuts right now.” Catya pointed out. “Just a quick rinse off and then we can start heading out to Balboa Perla early.” McRay said. Charlie cheekily retorted, “It isn’t the first time you’d end up coming early.” “Just for that, you’re scrubbing your own back.” McRay replied.
After freshening up, the crew set course for Balboa Perla. Time may have been allotted to them, but they knew better than to assume that smooth sailing was to be in their favor. Halfway to La Candida, a town no bigger than a recycling bin, they were met with a blockade. Blondie’s wife, Carlotta, had been tracking him down after he didn’t come home from working that night at the Valkyrie. “Donde estabas? Tus hijos chingados necesita su padre!” she yelled. Blondie tried to reason with her. “Lo siento, pero mi telefono…” However, she was not having any of Blondie’s excuses (even though he was not intent on lying.) “Basta ya con tu mierda! Ven para ca y dije tus amigos estupidos que tu vas a ir a tu casa ahora!” she roared. Catya was growing sick of Carlotta and decided to take things personally. “I can fuck her up, no questions asked.” Catya thought. Blondie sensed this and said, “You might be a blood thirsty killer; Genghis Khan with a clitoris and everything, but you cannot take on a pissed off Latina with kids.”
Catya saw that as more reason to slay Carlotta. She locked eyes with her and asked, “Cuanto ingles sabe usted?” “Enough to want to kick your ass for taking my kids’ Dad to do stupid shit like this, puta!” she roared back. “Oh God.” Michelle began. “Something tells me this fight could be too one sided to enjoy thoroughly.” Dolly was worried for Catya the most. “She could be in real danger and Blondie could be dumb enough to try and self-sacrifice to save Catya’s ass.” she thought. Just mere moments after her thoughts, McRay noted Carlotta could have a fatal flaw. “Look at her knees. Notice anything askew?” She looked and even asked Charlie to help her out. “They look ok to me. Where do you think she has her flaw?” McRay then added, “Watch her first movement of the fight.”
When they began, Catya showed off her ring blade. “Let’s get ready to play!” she evilly grinned. Carlotta then went in to throw a jab and then Dolly saw the flaw. “That dumb bitch is fighting after knee surgery. Catya is going to lay the bitch out!” “We knew that.” David began. “Have some sriracha chips and enjoy.” “If that was a plug for Lay’s, I’m going to bitch slap you so hard you’ll wish I was wearing a pimp hat.” she replied.
Catya and Carlotta’s fight did not consume too much time from the crew. While Carlotta possessed spirit, Catya had a fucking ring blade. Less than 25 minutes into the fight, Catya had sliced Carlotta’s throat open. Her gagging on her own blood was more than enough for Catya to just fuck with her head as she was dying. Blondie looked on in horror, but understood the price for his new life. “My wifey had to die just because I had to live a little more.” he thought. Carlotta would see Catya do her worst in recent years. She was force fed the surrounding dirt and punched in the throat. “That dear, is called ‘Havana Dentistry’. Te gusta mucho, de veras?” By the time she wanted to curse her out, Carlotta had died. Her body hitting the ground was the last thing Blondie wanted to be around. “Ay dios mio…diabla! Eres una diabla chingada!”
“I know where this is leading, and frankly you’re making me sick.” Catya said. “If we were to let you have your peace here, you’d abandon us in a heartbeat.” Blondie had only said, “My kids…” before Catya had begun beating the crap out of him. “You. are. not. using. your. kids. as. emotional. pawns!”
The others were pulling her off of Blondie. “Whoa, save it for the Grammys please.” Madler said. “We know you hate the two words he said before you started beating the ever loving shit out of him.” Blyvy added. The peacemaking was proving to be useless. Her rage against Blondie was only getting worse. Michelle pulled Blondie from his stupor. “Go to your kids. Tell them nothing about us or about your wife dying.” “Give my battle axe to the crew back.” he said. “You won’t regret this decision, will you?” she asked. “Given all this shit, I’ll pray of old age being my cause of death.” he replied.
As he sauntered off having left his weapon behind, Blondie thought “God, if you can hear this cabron speak, give me a sign.” The last thing he would see was a cattle skull before he blacked out from death. Catya had broken from her restraints and sliced Blondie in half. “Using anything as emotional pawns against me is only begging I murder you out of rage. Pendejo chingado!” The rest looked on in amazement and horror. “Like you should all be this shocked at what I’ve done.” Catya began. “Nothing gets me as pissed as using any emotional pawns to leave. If he wanted out, all he had to do was point us to a speedy route to Balboa Perla. Instead, the motherfucker signed his death certificate on his accord.”
“Goddamnit Catya, that’s not why we’re looking on in horror…” Charlie said.
“Well then what the fuck is it then?!” she roared back.
Her answer was hearing three small children; one boy and two little girls mourning the loss of their mother and father. “Why did you kill our parents you bitch?” the little boy asked.
“Our mommy and daddy didn’t do anything to you!” the little sister said. “You are a bitch. A dirty fart-faced bitch!” the youngest said. Catya was stunned that the children had witnessed everything start to finish. Blyvy may have learned to hate her mother first, but she put aside anything that made Catya register as a malefactor to help her out.
“I can understand you hating my mommy for doing these things…” Blyvy began.  “…but to be honest you little fuckers didn’t exactly make your presence known.”
“Don’t talk to us like that old lady!” the little boy said.
“Yeah! You shut your whore mouth right now!” the little sister added.
“Who taught you these words?!” Blyvy replied. “You’re only supposed to use those words after you learn to drive a car.” She was being rendered silent like her mother, but Michelle was growing sick of their insolence. “You bastards are starting to piss me off!” she started. “To the youngest one, you better run or crawl far away from this place.” The boy ushered the youngest to comply with Michelle’s command. “Go on…use the Big Wheel bike and go home.” The youngest rode off, but Dolly sensed she would be back soon. She turned to Madler and said, “I’m going to make sure she doesn’t die.”
The standoff between Michelle, the boy and the little sister would prove to be just as brevity laced as Catya’s bout with Carlotta. The boy went in for a kick but Michelle grabbed his leg and flung him toward an abandoned cowboy era water pump. The boy’s head hit the pump, but miraculously he hadn’t died from that. The little sister threw a punch but Michelle was able to fling her to the same water pump. She motioned toward them and they began to run. The chase would lead them to a train station to the West of La Candida. The boy and the little sister thought they had escaped death. Tragically, they had only escaped death from Michelle. A misstep by both of them plopped them on the tracks. By the time they came to, a runaway train
would be the last thing they see. Only the slight screaming emitted from them both would be the last sounds of them Michelle would hear.
The crew had tracked her down and by her stance and hearing the train they knew the pursuit was over. “In case you’re wondering I didn’t push them into the tracks. They got clumsy at the worst possible time.” she said. Looking at them shaken but not deterred, she wondered where Dolly was. “Where the hell is she?” Madler said, “Last she told me was making sure the youngest one wasn’t going to die.” McRay then spotted both Dolly and the youngest one. “There she is! And she’s holding the youngest one.”
Dolly explained why she had suddenly become so maternal. “I had gotten this weird feeling that she would be back even after her brother and sister would die. If we were to have killed them and left we would’ve been forced to deal with some ‘lost puppy’ bullshit.” “So we have an oracle baby then?” Charlie asked. “No. We just have the daughter of the parents we killed in our care now.” she replied. “So it’s payback and/or bad karma?” Catya queried. “No. We haven’t done anything that heinous. If that was the case we’d have all three kids.” she replied.
“Does she have a name?” David asked. The youngest looked at the crew and said, “My name is Goldie. Like the story she’s known for.” “That’s a pretty name.” David said. “What do you see when you look at us?” “I see four bears instead of three.” Goldie replied. Blyvy snickered, but Madler hit her in the head. “No perverted interpolation of jokes in front of the little one.” “Oh she won’t know the difference.” Blyvy asserted.
“Why do you want to be part of our lives, Goldie?” McRay asked. “Well, when mommy and daddy were being ‘heavenported’, I knew it was ‘cause they weren’t being nice.” she began. “That and my brother and sister were being just like them and I knew that was not good.”
“Well at least she knows being anything like the parents is a bad thing. She’s a very perceptive child.” Blyvy snided. She was again hit in the head; this time by Charlie. “Shut your fucking mouth, Blyvy.” “Now I just want to get away from it all.” Goldie said. The crew grew alarmed at that statement. “Goldie, do you know why grownups say that?” McRay asked. “It’s something my daddy said a lot. I just like it is all.” she replied.
They all agreed that Goldie was no longer safe in La Candida. After tracking down her house they told her to grab her blanket, favorite teddy bear and all her clothes. Sadly this was all too easy. All Goldie had was her blanket, one brown teddy bear with black nose and four pairs of shirts, shoes and socks. “We weren’t very rich, but at least it was better than having none of this.” she meekly said. “I fell like such a bitch now.” Michelle tearfully said. “You were only defending Catya and Blyvy.” David said. “Those children shouldn’t have made their presence that unknown.”
The crew eventually left La Candida behind. The road to Balboa Perla was proving to be a bitch for everyone. A call came in from the other end. The call had given them more allotted time that they felt they did not deserve. “Thank you for telling us. We’ll be there as soon as we can.” Michelle said. “So how much extra have we been given this time?” McRay asked. “You know it’s too much as always. We’ve been given another day even though we’re about 50 minutes from the city.” Michelle replied. “Well we better get to it quickly.” Madler began. “We have company.”
The roadside was full of random hitchhikers with weapons. Catya took one look at them and said, “Oh just fucking hit them. If their weapons fly off, grab them.” Madler complied and surely enough, the hitchhikers’ weapons flew out of their hands. “Wow. Look at all the Uzi’s and half assed swords the average hitchhiker carries.” Blyvy noted.
“Drive faster, Madler. The sounds of them fleeing bore me.” Catya said. “Just a little faster and we’ll give the dune buggy a coat of vampiric scarlet.” David added. “Keep at it Madler. I see people with daggers and teriyaki buffalo jerky ahead.” Blyvy chimed. Eventually, Madler had hit every random hitchhiker and discovered that, “Too many sons of bitches carry around money and resources they should keep at home.”
Finally, after a tumultuous fifty minute adventure, they had seen this sign:
“You are now entering: Balboa Perla”
“Oh thank God.” Michelle said. “Let’s find a hotel and rest up for the night.”
Sadly, no hotel was in these outskirts. However, they did find a house that somehow resonated with Goldie more than they realized. “I know this place.” she said. “How do you know this place?” Dolly asked. Goldie explained that this was her late grandma’s house. “My family and I came here any holiday we celebrated. Even the pointless ones like Arbor Day; Hazelnut Macchiato Day; Valentine’s Day. Crap like that, but it was nice.”
“So is the house safe?” Blyvy queried. “It should be.” Goldie began. “I haven’t been here since grandma went to heaven.” They found the house still had its key under a rock. The door was then unlocked and Goldie led everyone inside. She made sure nothing had been changed since her grandma’s passing. The memories started to have some effect on her. “This is the hallway I saw my mommy and daddy fight in.” she whispered. “Oh no.” Dolly thought. “She could be traumatized further through this.” She decided to escort Goldie through the rest of the house. Blyvy decided to help her out as well. “You adopted me knowing I was fucked up from birth. I kind of owe you for this one.” Dolly asked, “Goldie? You know we can help you through this, right?” “I know.” she began. “I’m just scared because I’m worried. Does that make any sense?” “Of course it does.” Dolly replied. Goldie eventually declared the house safe for
habitation. “Set up in any of the rooms with a bed.” she said. Madler and David rushed to one of the master bedrooms. McRay and Charlie would rush to the other master bedroom. “Leave it to those horn dogs to run for a bedroom that exists.” Blyvy snided. “What are horn dogs?” Goldie asked. “When you’re older, they will be very easy to spot.” Blyvy replied.
Everybody had settled in for the night knowing everything of them would be tested. Madler and David looked into each other’s eyes like any other night. “I sometimes wonder if we’re going to live past the shit we get into.” Madler said. David replied, “We love each other too much to let each other perish foolishly.” Madler retorted, “That’s exactly it; we get ourselves into all of this shit and we’ve been lucky this whole time.” “Honey, we’re going to be stigmatized for being the spawn of the people responsible for the Derby and Friedan Massacres.” David replied. “Besides, we’ll die in each other’s arms.” Madler concurred with him and proposed a round of coitus. “Ok, but nothing too freaky. We’re in the late grandma’s house of a kid whose parents we murdered.” David said. “Mmmm; you know how to set the mood, Mr. Vandross.” Madler replied.
McRay and Charlie looked into each other’s eyes and apart from the sweet nothings, wondered about their respective spawn. “My David has turned out to be a bit of livewire hasn’t he?” McRay supposed. “He’s just like you, only not afraid to show off his active brain cells.” Charlie retorted. “Oh and there’s that razor sharp tongue Madler inherited.” McRay replied. Charlie asserted, “David’s a goddamn smartass too and you know it, sugarcane.” “True, but I can’t help but think they’ll end up exactly like us.” McRay said. “If they do, that means they’re the only good things we’ve done for this fucked up world.” Charlie replied. The two would commence in the same activities their spawn were doing. “Oh God...” Catya began. “I smell honey, ketchup, linen and just a hint of man musk.”
Goldie was able to sleep, but her dreams had her being visited by the apparitions of her family. Blondie appeared before his daughter and told her, “ tu papa. Te amo mucho; eres la manzana de mi ojo. No soy en mi forma corporeal pero estoy contigo todo tu vida.” Carlotta then appeared and told her, “Mija...como tu padre soy contigo todo tu vida tambien. Tu hermanos son contigo tambien.” Blondie then said, “You might be scared as fuck right now, but believe us, God will make sure you’re ok. Even if for the moment you’re harbored with those crazy putos.” She didn’t know what to do with those sweet nothings she was told.
However, she knew enough to confirm that they were right. Dolly said to her, “You doing ok Goldie? I heard you fidgeting and like you were going to cry.” “I’m ok.” She began. “Does seeing your family after they die in your dreams count as seeing ghosts?” “No it doesn’t. Ghosts are only dead strangers that can’t read the address of the house they’re in.” Dolly replied. Goldie looked at her teddy bear and wondered, “Stuffy, why do you think crazy people are being nice to us all of a sudden?” Her innocence looking at the teddy bear was enough to get Catya emotional. “Sweet black Jesus; I’m in another section of the house and I felt that shit.” Blyvy turned to her and said, “Mom, you’re scaring me.” “Why the hell is that?” Catya queried. “You used the words ‘I felt that’ in an English sentence.” Blyvy replied. “Let’s get some goddamn sleep.” she retorted.
The night eventually passed with everything going off without a cause for alarm. The couples awoke to find each other as alive as when they first met. Michelle and Goldie woke up feeling better than they had yesterday. Catya and Blyvy awoke with no reason to be pissed off other than the fact that it was the morning. Dolly, on the other hand had been hard at work crafting more “Burt Wonderstones” for the Grammy conquest at hand. “So; ready to call me the executive producer of ‘Burt Wonderstone’? You know...bomb maker extraordinaire?” “Holy shit Dolly.” Charlie began. “I thought these were ‘Battlefield Earths’ you were making.”
“I’m not a monster, you fucking troglodyte.” Dolly said. “Besides, I added some flop inspired landmines to the ‘Burt Wonderstones’; check out the ‘Loverboys’ over to your right.” “Wow, I would not want to be the A&R or some other asshole that have to deal with that.” Blyvy noted.
“These are pretty, but I think there’s something in grandma’s basement that can help you guys out.” Goldie said. She led them to the basement and pointed to a trunk that hadn’t been opened in years. “I never knew what was inside that. Now we’ll all know.” Charlie cracked the trunk open and discovered a trove full of herbal remedies and exotic weaponry. “Holy hell, your family must’ve been stock piling for an apocalypse of some sort.” “Not the Mayan one. That was just stupid.” Goldie replied.
After collecting what they needed, they set out in the dune buggy to the center of Balboa Perla to finish off an enemy known as the Nomi Malone Event Planning Firm.

### End of Act I###