Story: Mother Güse Must Die (chapter 14)

Authors: StarCross

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Chapter 14

Title: Unnecessary Crossover #1.5 - Much ado about Secondary


Chapter 13B - Unnecessary Crossover #1.5 - Much ado about Secondary

With groans, the boyish Nahal descended from her tree hut and walked a long ways away to the big tree where the village mystic Quanzitta Marison waited. She was the sole reader of the Elies script of the words of Sauron--er, Saruon, as well as the last remaining keeper of the sacred words: Ni, Peng, and Neewom (and maybe Nicky-Nicky too). Though she respected her position and wealth of knowledge, as well as her silken platinum hair, exotic light brown skin, and those enviable breasts, Nahal had always dreaded talking and listening to Quanzitta ever since she received the Star Wars trilogy on Laserdisc for her Laserdisc player from a bearded American man doing location scouting for the Star Wars prequel.

"I sense a great disturbance in the force," said Quanzitta as she sat on the green grass.

"Yes Lady Quanzitta," said Nahal, rolling her eyes. She knew Quanzitta could sense her exasperation, but Nahal just didn't care anymore.

"There is a great task you must perform."

"Not again..."

"You must go to the country of Nafrece and collect these items of great importance: the DVD for Star Wars Episode I: the Phantom Menace..."

"It's still in theaters."

"...a Darth Maul double-lightsaber..."


"...a Jedi robe--an actual one designed for the movies, and an unopened blister pack containing Boba Fett released around the 1980s. It's being held at the auction, so you must get that."

"Of course."

"Do not fail me. The last item is very important."

"Oh, do you want me to go retrieve the Secondary?"


"You gave me the task of investigating on who has the Secondary, and it so happens someone was awakened by its words in the capital of Nafrece."

"Oh that. Yeah, go get that as well."

Nahal crossed her arm over her shoulder and bowed. "I will not fail you."

Nahal walked away, and Quanzitta stood up to look out the flora of the rural parts of the South-Asian country Gazth-Sonika.

"The order shall be restored," she said in a mystical tone, "once I get my hands on the original Boba Fett figurine."

So begins Nahal journey walking around in nothing but her somewhat scantily clad garb with a short cape armed with many knives. She swiftly maneuvered through the hot jungles of the country in the middle civil war and made her way to the demilitarized zone in the capital. The citizens and tourists gave her strange looks as usual, but she was used to it by now. She wanted to wear more, but Quanzitta insisted that she looked foreign in order to add to the mysticism of the village where she came from, and because it looked somewhat sexy.

She passed by the security guard, who tipped his hat. "Hello Nahal," he greeted. "Going out for Star Wars memorabilia again?"

"Not this time," she said. "I'm on more important business."

She showed the airline receptionist booked for Nafrece. The metal detector went off due to her having a huge-ass knife, the chief of security told the guards to let her pass, because he happened to be a big fan of Star Wars and had wanted to invite Nahal over to the first Star Wars convention in Gazth-Sonika. Of course, Nahal lied and said she would think about it, but truthfully she would rather fight off against the criminal organization Enfant than go to those places. And since the convention would be held in a third-world country, she felt it would be sub-par anyway despite their best efforts.

She then sat in the waiting area still receiving occasional glances from more tourists and business people returning or going to Nafrece. Nahal really had nothing on her, which she felt was a real drag. Like all the others in her village, she was really poor, and she was grateful that the village had stored enough pirate gold to fund her travel expenses. Unfortunately, they could not furnish her with an adequate suitcase full of changes of clothes, toothbrushes, toothpaste, soap, and other necessities. Hell, she could not even afford to buy shoes! Alas, the only thing she was allowed to buy was a knife, since her penpal Chloe at the Manor was an expert in them and had voiced her recommendation.

She would like to meet Chloe, but there were disturbing rumors in the underworld that she was bit... psycho, especially towards some sixteen year-old Japanese girl. Then there were stories that Chloe drank from Altena's breast once a week.

"I wish I had shoes," lamented Nahal as she trudged to her seat on the airplane.

Then she saw someone associated with Enfant, a certain Carrossea Doon. He was a young man in a khaki suit who sounded suspiciously like Vic Mignogna or Edward "Shorty" Elric in the dub version of Fullmetal Alchemist, but with a bit of a lisp. He sat many seats ahead of her, and so far he had not noticed her.

"He's one to watch out for," she muttered. "He's... different."

Or maybe gay. Bi perhaps. You never know.

As the plane took off, her stomach growled, and she waited desperately for the flight attendants to start serving food.

And so our heroines, the tall, dark and bishoujo Becky Wolfe, the seventeen year-old Lolita Red Little, their tribade canine HLS, their homemaker and chemical expert Mira Rama, and their bratty hacker Ginger Baker all took a crowded bus ride to a country known as Nafrece, which was located next to France and was said to be its twin.

The odors of the people were overwhelming. Though they came from the city of Tours, Mira covered herself and her comrades with a special perfume that knocked everyone but the driver out, giving Ginger a chance to steal all their money and put their hands in appropriate places.

However, it did not ease her anger regarding the incident back at Tours.

"I did not realize your friend, King of Esca, was a girl," said Becky.

"KoE?" Ginger said. "Oh yeah, we get along quite well."

Mira gripped the handle for standing passengers. The only person from their group who sat was Ginger, only because she was sitting on top of an attractive female blonde (Ginger checked her gender by groping her, making Mira uneasy).

"That is, until I showed her a guro dojin of Dilandau during his or her intersexual phase raping Hitomi with her or his guymelef," smiled Ginger. "Which then went into an yaoi rape orgy between Van and Allen."

"You didn't have to make her run into the wall and hitting her in the head afterwards," said Becky.

"Thus sending her and her unconscious family to the hospital. Sis, I had to do that. She had tons of dirt on my personal life on Zip100 disk[1], like things regarding my sexuality."

Mira's eyes lit up. She did not realize that there was such a data. She dearly wanted to find out about Ginger's sexuality, yet there was great worry that it may turn out for the worst.

"I hope she's at least bi," muttered Mira.

"What's that?" asked Ginger.

"Ah, nothing!"

"Anyway, I destroyed that disk in the fire, so no one will know surely which way I'll swing! Mwa ha ha ha!"

Mira gasped, and slouched in defeat.

"So where this place we're heading to in this country that looks suspiciously like France?" asked Becky.

"We're heading over to my cousin's swanky flat at the capital," replied Ginger.

"You have a cousin in Nafrece? Are you pulling my leg Gingerbrat?"

"Hell no Wolfe-ears. I really do have a cousin in Nafrece..."

"...what's with the ellipsis?"

"I could say the same for you. Anyway, the thing is I haven't seen her ever since her grandfather died, so she has somewhat of a grudge on me."

"I other words, you screwed up and was banned from Nafrece."

"I did not! It was a fucking accident!"


"In any case, we have to stay there 'cause somebody wasted all of our money."

Ginger glared up at the glaring Becky.

"You're the one who wasted most of it on horse races," said Becky.

"It's only fifty-five percent of our funds!" cried Ginger. "If you hadn't wasted at least twenty-five percent on booze, we'd be staying at some swanky hotel. But no! You have to spend all our money on the most expensive wine!"

"I want pasta," said Red.

"Yeah, sure, that's nice pastathead."

"We'll make you some when we get there," said Becky.

After getting home from school, the aloof and strange Margaret Burton sat and watched the news while her maid who was barely older than her vacuumed away at the dining room. Again, the news focused on the ongoing Gazth-Sonika, and then some more asshole commentary from the right and left political parities of Nafrece.

"I miss Vanessa," said Margaret.

Now, if you haven't been watching the anime Madlax, here's the story so far:

Vanessa Rene, a sexy dark-haired employer of the worldwide conglomerate Bookwald Industries, had overhead her employer talking with Carrossea about supplying arms to both the royal army of the Gazth-Sonika and the Galza rebels in order to continue the civil war. She asked a hacker friend to hack into Bookwald to get some info, but was discovered by Friday Monday who attempted to counterhack them. The hacker friend had sent the data offsite to, by sheer coincidence, to a laptop in a computer Gatzth-Sonika, which was then bought a by bespectacled Asian kid who looks like every other bespectacled Asian kid in various anime coming from Japan. Hell, he even reminds me of Yomiko Readman and Nenene Sumerigawa of the Read or Die (R.O.D.) fame.

Ahem. Anyway, the reason why Vanessa was not around was because she had to go over to Gazth-Sonika get that laptop containing all the information of her company's connections to the civil war, and she would use any means necessary... maybe. Now back to the crossover chapter at hand...

"I miss giving Vanessa a bath," said Margaret.

"I miss doing that thing too," reminisced Elenore, her maid.

"I sure wish we had a bath big enough so we could give each other a bath."

"Well Miss Margaret, if we do so we wouldn't be 'giving' it, would we?"

"You're right. We'd be taking a bath together."

"I'm sure it will be a lot of fun."

"We should order a bigger bath for the three of us."

"I'll get right to it."

The doorbell rang. Elenore stopped vacuuming and went over to look through the peephole.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"Open the fucking door!" said the girl. "It's me!"

"How rude! You shouldn't be giving such commands without properly introducing yourself."

"Elenore, who is it?" asked Margaret.

"Oh, it's probably some solicitor," replied Elenore. "Nothing for you to worry about."

"Perhaps we should talk to them."

"No, I can take care of it. Besides, this one looks shady."

"She sounds familiar."

"Elenore!" cried the girl. "Come on! Let us in baby!"

Elenore fumed. She unlocked the door and opened it slightly. Suddenly, she was thrown backward by the force or four people and a dog rushing in as if they had now taken over.

"Don't worry, she'll be all right," said the bespectacled girl to the Pakistani.

"Okay," said the female Pakistani.

"Wow, what a great view!" said a red-haired and red-hooded girl.

"Arf!" barked a dog.

"It's booze time!" said a tall woman with two wolf ears on the top of her head.

Elenore shook her head and immediately got back to her feet to behold the chaos slowly unfolding.

"Get out of our house!" she yelled as she went into a fighting stance. "I'll call the police!"

Margaret, recognizing one of the girls, got up and walked up to her.

"Ginger?" asked Margaret.

"Hey, how's it hangin' Margie!" Ginger smiled.

"I'm still alive."

"Still muttering that Madlax word?"

"Once in a while."

Ginger gave Margaret a noggie on her head, which was painful, but Margaret laughed nonetheless.

"Margaret!" Elenore cried. "Do you know this girl?"

"Of course! She's your cousin, Ginger!"

"Hiya Elenore," Ginger waved.

Elenore gasped, and soon the painful, if not hilarious memories flowed into head.

"Ginger," she growled. Suddenly, Elenore grabbed Ginger's hand and the two went inside her room, shutting the door behind them. Then everyone heard Ginger yelling and tapping the ground.

"Oh no!" Mira cried. She was the first to enter and saw that a furious Elenore had her on the ground in a wrestling hold known as the Boston Crab.


"It was just an accident!" cried Ginger. "God damn, is this the way you treat your cousin? The doctors and the detectives said it was an accident."


"It was just a joke! Shit, stop the hurting! Guys, help me!"

"We must help her!" cried Mira.

But Becky stepped forward and put her hand on her shoulder. She watched with delight as Ginger tapped the floor in vain as if she were in the wrestling ring.

"Don't worry," said Becky. "Let her suffer a bit."

"But she's in pain!" Mira cried.

"It's a combination of faking, on Ginger's part, and control, on the French-maid's part. Ginger will be fine."

After a while, Elenore lets go, and Ginger crawled to the edge of the bed with Mira coming to her aid.

"Ginger, are you hurt?" asked Mira.

"No thanks to you!" Ginger snapped. "You were just watching!"

"But I..."

"Go stand in the corner! I don't need your sympathy!"

Mira's heart shattered once more, and so she sulked backwards to the corner to think about her punishment.

Becky took a swig of whiskey from the bottle, which was usually reserved for Elenore whenever she was stressed, and right now she was. She condescendingly handed it over to her, and Elenore drank the entire bottle.

"And you are?"

"Elenore Baker," said Elenore. "As you have figured I'm Ginger's cousin--or rather, her third cousin."

"My name is Margaret Burton," said Margret. "I live here."

"I'm Red Little!" Red said.

"I like your cape."

"It's a hood!"

"I like the color red."

"I like red shoes."

"Me too."

Ginger raised an eyebrow. For some reason, she felt as if she was seeing twins.

"Becky Wolfe," Becky said as she shook Elenore's hand. "I'm the leader of this... strange and dysfunctional outfit. In the corner sulking is Mira Rama, our homemaker of some sorts."

"Assalaamu alaikum," Mira muttered depressingly.

"And this dog with the double-dildo strap-on is HLS."

"HLS," said Margaret. "Could HLS mean Huckleberry-Lindbergh-Snagglepuss?"

"How did you know?" asked Red enthusiastically.

"Because I like those cartoons. Oh, and we were studying Charles Lindbergh in class."

Margaret bent over and petted a panting-happy HLS. Then she took a gander at the prosthetic nose hanging off her collar, which reminded Margaret of a song:

"Sunshine, lollipops," she began. "And.."

Then Red chimed in, "...rainbows, Everything that's..."

"...wonderful is what I feel when we're together!"[2]

And the continued singing in unison, causing Ginger to cover her ears with the two pillows on the bed. Excepting Red and Margaret, the others covered their ears with their hands.

"So, what did Ginger do to piss you off?" Becky asked Elenore.

"Though it was an accident, Ginger was instrumental in causing the death of my grandfather."

"It was an accident!" Ginger yelled.

"She tried to scare him into a heart attack during the family reunion many years ago. Instead, he fell over the stairs and ruptured his spleen when he hit the bike Ginger left in the hallway."

"Still an accident..."

"Her parents took her back to America promising us that she won't trouble us again."

"They're dead now, so the contract is null."

"Of course, that's not the only case where she caused torment for our whole family."

And so, Elenore went on how the Baker family was destined to serve powerful people in various countries from time antiquity, but they dedicated most of their servitude to the generous Burton family whom they regarded as closer than family. Ginger's father left for the United States for early retirement. He then married a woman of his similar late-middle age, and a test tube child from what would be known as Ginger Baker. Mr. Baker still kept in touch with his relatives in Nafrece, and was still permitted to attend their family reunions held mostly around Europe.

Though sometimes regarded as the life of the party, Ginger was labeled as their devil. She did nothing but torment and scam her relatives as she grew up all in the name of greed and the art of pissing people off. As a child, she melted Elenore's doll set in a bucket of acid, stole dentures from the elder Bakers, shaved off their toupees and wigs, kicked them in the shins, or permanently cripple them by hitting them in the ankles with a her metal bat she affectionately called "Gingerbat". There was no break in her many successful attempts of "killing" her elderly relatives through carefully planned accidents in order to get the money she convinced them to bequeath to her, but unfortunately she would blow it all off on craps, roulette, and horse and dog races in Monaco.

She was kept away from the illustrious Burton family, although she had a chance to befriend Margaret years after she was found in Gazth-Sonika. Of course, the friendship as front to cheat Margaret out of her money, and she managed to have them booted out of their mansion and forced to live in a flat where they lived today. Still, Margaret had no hard feelings on Ginger, for she felt the mansion was too big for herself and Elenore. Elenore, however, still wept at the loss of her dolls.

"They were a gift from my grandfather," wept Elenore.

"They scared the shit out of me," said Ginger.

"You were just jealous because you only got the rare first edition unwrapped Barbie doll."

"Yeah, but I gave it to the guard dogs to eat after realizing yours was worth more."

"It was only fifty dollars more expensive!"

"In your hands it was worthless! I saved them so I could sell them!"

"You burned them!"

"At least I got you to cry."

Furious, Elenore pounced on Ginger and puts her into a headlock.

"That's one feisty French maid," said Becky. "Those two must really like each other."

Mira turned her head and wiped her tears. "Don't tell they are..."

She briskly walked out of the room to sulk on the toilet, and maybe masturbate.

By then, Red and Margaret had stopped signing "Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows", and then burst out into childish laughter.

"I want pasta," said Red.

"Me too!" Margaret cried.

"I'll cook you some dinner Miss Margaret!" cried Elenore. "Ginger, will you assist me?"

Elenore tightened her kung-fu grip around Ginger's neck.

"No way!" Ginger cried. "I ain't servin' anyone!"

"It is your duty to serve Margaret, her relatives, and her guests! Now come along!"

"Waah! Sis, help me!"

"Shut-up," smiled Becky, "and serve me up some more booze."

"B-but I'm a guest too! Waah!"

Ginger wept as he assisted Margaret in the cooking. Eventually, Mira emerged to help with the cooking as well solely because Ginger was helping. A curious Margaret sampled a taste from Mira's pot.

"This is good Miss Rama," said Margaret.

"Why thank you," said Mira.

"It tastes like... my vagina."

"Miss Margaret, that is a crude joke," said Elenore.

"I'm sorry. I'll never say such things again."

"That's good. Sheesh, I wonder what made her say such a thing out of the blue."

"Oh, I don't know," lied Mira as she discreetly pulled her hand out of her panties. She had been stealth-masturbating while cooking.

Then everyone ate, and Ginger was still sad that she had to do actual cooking, which to everyone's surprise tasted quite good. For Mira, it was the best thing she ate, so she shoved aside her meatballs and sauce to gorge on Ginger's cooking.

"This is quite good Ginger," said Mira.

"Shut-up," wept Ginger. "I hate you. I hate you all."

"I feel it's about time you learn some discipline and humility," said Elenore.

"I'm not putting on that frilly maid outfit."

Mira choked. She reached over furiously grabbed Ginger's shoulders.

"I INSIST THAT IN THE TIME PERIOD WE STAY HERE YOU OBEY YOUR COUSIN FOR THE GOOD OF ALLAH," Mira declared as she nearly drooled from her mouth.

"You've turned against me, haven't you?" asked Ginger.

"DO IT!"

Mira's behavior had scared Ginger into submission, and so the Gingerbrat willingly decided to be "taught" under the auspices of her cousin Elenore.

At bedtime, Ginger was made to sleep close to Elenore, much to Mira's chagrin as she was sleeping on the couches in the family room along with a passed-out-from-drunkenness Becky and HLS. Since Margaret liked Red so much she allowed her to sleep in the bed to gossip about cartoons, talk about the weather, shoes, and look in the strange red picture book that was missing a page and had bloodstains on it.

"I never really showed this to anyone else," said Margaret. "But I think it is okay for you to look."

Red opened the book and saw some weird tadpole or sperm creatures gracing every page along with some very foreign writing.

"This book has funny writing," said Red. "Ginger has one as well."

"She does?"

"Oh yes. It's called the Fourthary, although she still working on the translation."

"I see. I want to see this book Elenore's cousin has."

"I'll show to you tomorrow morning!"


The two slipped under the covers and slept peacefully.

"Hello Miss Rama," said a very sweet voice. "It's time for breakfast."

Mira rubbed her eyes a beheld an angelic figure, or rather Ginger in a sexy French maid outfit similar to Elenore's. Sexy Ginger-French Maid. There was an angelic smile on her face, and the light from the window shined so beautifully behind her back.

"Good morning," smiled Ginger.

Mira could not take so much of the cuteness and sexiness. Instead of getting up, she fainted euphorically.

"Damn it bitch," said Ginger. "I'll get you up."

As it so happens, Elenore had kept Ginger's Gingerbat to remind her of the torment she had caused her cousin. The Gingerbat was a beaten black metal baseball bat with medical tape tied around the handle. It was used to fracture ankles, bust headlights of cars, knock down mailboxes, and all sorts of destructive acts. However, today was not to day for its full use, as Elenore stopped her from using to wake Mira.

"No violence around the house," said Elenore.

"Shut-up you hypocrite," said Ginger.

"And remember there should never be any crude language, especially in front of Miss Margaret."

"God, you're still angry with me because I made her say 'fuck' a few times when we were young?"

Elenore disarmed Ginger and took her to her room for a good number of suplexes. As Ginger began her slow recovery, Elenore walked over to wake up Becky.

"Wake up Miss Wolfe," she said. Then Becky groped her breasts, which made her giggle.

So everyone had breakfast, except for Mira who was still passed out for seeing Sexy Ginger-French Maid. The main meal was eggs and pasta, which Ginger found to be subtly repulsing and just downright weird. Elenore cooked Red and Margaret's unusual request for pasta and eggs without an ounce of rebellion, and had quieted Ginger before she could outright complain.

Ginger was now the main server in place of Elenore, though Elenore usually dined with Margaret since there weren't a lot of people in their apartment. Becky would often issue normal commands that Ginger grudgingly accepted, like getting more wine, wiping her mouth, adding salt. Becky knew that any work Ginger did annoyed her greatly, and she gleefully took advantage of it.

What really started to annoy Ginger was Red and Margaret's idle talk. It seemed as if their naivety, aloofness, and stupidity were multiplied ten-fold, and that their conversation consisted of nothing but simple sentences, such as:

"I'm going to school," Margaret said. "They teach classes there."

"I was homeschooled," said Red. "Mom and dad taught me how to roll crazy cannabis."

"You should come with to school as a guest. You'll learn stuff."


"I got a extra uniform you could wear."

"I like pink."

"Me too."

Thus began the driving of Ginger nuts, for she grinded her teeth at such sweet talk. She felt a little jealous as well, for Margaret was getting along too well with Red-chan. They finished their meal, thanked Elenore and Ginger for the cooking and went off to change into their uniforms. Then Ginger assisted Elenore in the clearing the table and cleaning the dishes, while Becky and HLS relaxed while watching local Nafrece programming on the television.

"Hey cousin," whispered Ginger. "Was Margaret always like this?"

"Ever since she was found in Gazth-Sonika," replied Elenore.

"Still hasn't recovered her memories."


"She does piss you off, doesn't she?"

"I do not think of such things. It is my duty to serve and love Margaret until the end of my days."

"Are you gay?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"I'm just asking. I mean, don't you have a boyfriend, get horny, or watch porn?"

"I swear my life and my soul to Margaret alone. That was the last request my grandfather issued to me."

"I see. Grandpa ordered you to become a lesbian--or tribade as Sis says."

"He did not."

"You have the hots for Margie, don't ya? I mean, you lived with her all your life, are of somewhat similar ages; hell, you probably shared the same bath."

"That's nonsense talk Ginger."

"Fine, I'll go ask Margie herself and hear what she thinks of you--sexually."

The put the last of the dishes on the drying rack and stopped the faucet. Suddenly, Elenore had put Ginger in a headlock as they walked towards her room.

"Don't you ever say such things about Miss Margaret!" Elenore growled.

"The more you do this, the more I think that you do have the hots for her," said Ginger.


"Hey, Ginger," said Red. "Can I see your funny book?"

"Oh, sure," replied Ginger as pointed at her black backpack at the drawers next to the bed. "It's right over there in the inner pocket."

"Thank you."

The schoolgirl-dressed Red grabbed the pink-colored Fourthary and walked back to Margaret's room to help finish styling her hair.

"Elenore seems to like Ginger," said Margaret.

"You like her too?" asked Red.

"Of course! She taught me how to use swear words very effectively."

They had a few minutes before they were to leave for school, so they sat on the bed and compared the crimson Secondary and the pink Fourthary.

"This Secondary has funny tadpoles," said Red.

"This book..." said Margaret. "It's a dud."


"It is like my book, with the same script and tadpoles, but it has no power." She turned the pages and saw what looks like blood.

"It has blood like my book," said Margaret.

"Those are ketchup stains," said Red.

"Ketchup tastes good."

"I like ketchup too."

"Some people say catsup."

"Cats go up."

"Up to where?"

"Grandma says that go up other cats. Or was it pussies?"

"Miss Margaret!" cried Elenore. "Miss Little! Time to go!"

"Coming!" cried the two girls.

Like a mother, Elenore gave them each lunches, and then handed Red signed permission papers to go to school for a day. Ginger was outside sweeping the walkway.

"Goodbye you two!" Elenore waved as Red and Margaret walked to school together.

"Goodbye Elenore!" Margaret cried.

"Make some pasta sub-sandwiches when we get home!" said Red.

"I want some pasta sub-sandwiches too!"

"Sure I'll make some!" Elenore cried.

And so, Red and Margaret disappeared onto the bus.

"Elenore," whined Ginger. "Why am I sweeping this place? Can't we wait for the groundskeeper to come back?"

"The path for Miss Margaret and her friend must be cleared by the time she gets home. Also the branch next to Margaret's window is rubbing against it. Wait under the tree until I come back with the trimmer."

"Yes ma'am."

Ginger soon finished sweeping. With the broom in hand, she walked up to the tree in question and saw a scantily-clad tomboy girl in light blue garb staring at Margaret's window.

"I knew it," said Ginger. "Margaret's got a tribade stalker! Oh, Elenore's gonna spaz out when she hears about this!"

The girl was Nahal, and she had been watching Margaret pull out Secondary, and the dud known as Fourthary. However, the book she wanted was taken by Margaret to school, she could not risk storming there to retrieve it. Still, she hadn't done all the other errands Quanzitta wanted for her to do.

"But this is important," said Nahal. "The balance of the worlds hinges on the retrieval of Secondary."

Suddenly, she moaned from something brushing her butt. She looked down and saw Ginger brushing her with the broom.

"I can see your lack of underwear," said Ginger.

Nahal blushed.

"Hey, get down. I want to talk to you."

"Sorry, but I can't be seen by you."

"And you just had to pick out such a scant getup. Now come down!"


Ginger went under the thick branch and started prod Nahal in the crotch, causing her to moan in slight pleasure. Nahal soon lost balance and fell from the tree, with her crotch landing on Ginger's face.

"Get off me!" Ginger cried as her nose nuzzled pleasurably into Nahal's vagina.

Then Ginger grabbed her shoulder with one hand, and then groped Nahal's small breast with the other.

Margaret's window was thrown open by Mira, who wanted to let some fresh air on the recommendation from Becky.

"It's your fault for oversleeping in the first place," said Becky from afar.

"But I had enough hours," said Mira. "Boy, this isn't like me."

She looked down and saw Ginger in a provocative position with some foreign girl. The shock caused her to scream loudly, startling Nahal. Mira ran off to the living room, rummaged through her things in her bag, grabbed her tranquilizer rifle, and loaded it with most potent poison dart in the entire world. She went outside to the tree and found Ginger rising and rubbing her head.

"Where is she?" cried Mira as she cocked her rifle. "Where is that girl?"

"What girl?" asked Ginger.

"What's going on?" asked Elenore, who had came back with the tree trimmer.

"A girl," said Mira. "Some girl tried to do indecent things with Ginger! I mean, she tried to assault her."

"Could it be a some cat?"

"Ginger, I'll hunt down that girl for you and inject with many poisons that will make her suffer in silly ways! Just give the order!"

"Mira, you're crazy!" Ginger smiled.

Despite the angelic face on her beloved, Mira sauntered backwards in defeat. She wandered back into the apartment and threw herself onto the couch facedown. She still hasn't finished her pasta and eggs that was on the coffee table.

Why would she lie about the indecent assault? thought Mira. Don't tell me she... well, at least she might like girls.

After trimming the tree, Ginger went out with Elenore for grocery shopping, and thus was kept on a short leash so she won't scam any old people or hit little children with blunt objects. Elenore even threatened to use an actual short leash if Ginger tried anything.

Back at the house, Mira masturbated, and Becky drew up the plans to grab the next glass slipper fragment in Paris--while she was drunk. After school, Margaret and Red-chan were approached by a man a few years older thane them, whom Red took as an ephebophile.

"Oh come now," said Carrossea. "In some countries, I'm jailbait."

"What do you want?" asked Margaret.

"It's about the book."

"My book?"

"Yes, the one Gillian Anderson tried to look for a copy on your behalf."

From then on, he gave more detail on Carrossea knew more about its origins and wanted to see it in the guise of complete curiosity. Margaret promised to show it to him another day. So the two girls parted with Red remarking on how Carrossea Doon sounded like a strange name Yoshiyuki Tomnio would use to name his characters in the Gundam anime franchise.

For dinner, Ginger and Elenore served what Red and Margaret wanted. Ginger stood by with the usual angelic smile of servitude she had to force onto herself or else she get piledrived by her cousin. Mira simply could not concentrate on eating, and her nose was bleeding into her tomato soup and into the sauce of the pasta sandwiches.

"More whiskey for me," Becky commanded.

"Yes Miss Wolfe," Ginger answered oh-so grudgingly.

Afterwards, Mira took HLS on short evening walk, and then fell asleep in the couch not knowing that Becky was inside Margaret's room videotaping and sometimes participating in a pillow fight between Margaret and Red, who were in their underwear. In Elenore's room, Elenore drilled down Ginger in late night in lessons of etiquette and maid behavior. Ginger sat in her pajamas before the desk where many books on such subjects laid, and most of the illustrations were of sexy French-maids in outright revealing outfits and poses.

"Does maid fetishism ring a bell to you?" Ginger asked. "Or lesbian maid fetishism?"

"That is out of the question Ginger!" Elenore said as she slapped her horsewhip in her hands. God only knows why she had that thing in possession when neither her nor Margaret rode horses as a hobby. Right now, Ginger was in the section on how to deal with dirty old men.

"With my trusty Gingerbat!" Ginger cried out.

Wrong answer. Ginger was jerked out of the chair and put into a headlock once more. With a sore neck, Ginger called time out, she crawled into bed with her cousin, obviously not doing naughty things because if Mira finds out...

On the next day they had pasta sausage omelets, and though it was technically the second day Ginger and her partners had stayed over, she was getting sick and tired of having pasta with EVERYTHING. So she took two platters full and threw them hilariously into Red and Margaret's faces. Ginger laughed, hard.

It wasn't hilarious to Elenore. That pissed her off. Without hesitation, she immediately piledrived and suplexed her cousin on the floor in the living room.

"Ah, crap!" yelled Ginger. "Sis, help me!"

She couldn't ask for help from Mira, for she was passed out on the couch since Ginger greeted her by wearing nothing but her maid apron (that was because the rest of the uniform hadn't dried up yet from the washing). Becky, on the other hand, kept on sipping her bourbon-laced coffee pretending to ignore Ginger's pleas. At the same time, Red and Margaret stood frozen with the plates of pasta sausage omelets slowly running down their faces.

"God damn it!" Ginger yelled. "Don't just sit there you Fat Ass!"

Becky slammed her cup on its saucer, and then shot up from her chair.

"Hold her down while I spank her," said Becky.

"With pleasure!" Elenore grinned.

The spanking commenced, and Elenore delighted as she watched at close proximity Becky's right hand bouncing back and forth from Ginger's exposed butt. Finally, the plates fell from Red and Margaret's faces.

"Pastaface'd," said Red.

"I like pasta," said Margaret.

"Me too."

"OH, SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU TWO!" Ginger screamed. Spank! "Ow!"

Elenore left Becky alone with Ginger so she could clean up Red and Margaret's faces. They were now rushing for Red and Margaret would be late for school.

"Ah, I almost forgot the book!" said Margaret.

"I'll go get it!" said Red.

She ran back in the apartment and grabbed the book that Margaret was to show Carrossea Doon. As usual, Elenore bade the schoolgirls a farewell while giving them their pasta BLT lunches.

"Don't talk to strangers now!" she said to them.

"We won't!" cried Margaret. She and Red got on the bus, with Margaret excited that finally she'll learn more about the funny picture book she had in her possession from Doon.

"Let's sing the Doon Song!" Red suggested.

"All right! Doon, Doon, Doon, Doon..."

So the two girls sang the Doon Song, which only consisted of one word and no semblance of musical pattern whatsoever. The song was so irritating that only the slightly insane could bear to listen. Luckily, the bus driver had just been released from the Nafrece insane asylum. The rest of passengers, unfortunately, threw themselves out the windows, especially in the middle of fast-moving traffic.

Elenore returned inside where Becky was now reading the newspaper on the couch while Ginger rubbed her butt whilst cracking her sore neck. Elenore came up to her and shoved a duster and a vacuum to her.

"What?" asked Ginger.

"You're cleaning the entire house today," said Elenore.

"You did that yesterday!"

"I could give her an additional spanking right now I you want," said Becky.

Ginger groaned and grudgingly took the household cleaning materials from her cousin's hands.

"Aren't you going to help me?" Ginger asked.

"Unfortunately, I cannot," replied Elenore. "I have to withdraw some money from the bank, buy some more cleaning supplies, and buy some more pasta and booze--whiskey and wine to be exact."

"You're a good girl, Elenore," said Becky.

"Pasta again!" Ginger whined. "Are you and Margaret more than servant and master?"

"Oh, and don't look into my closet Ginger," said Elenore as she threw on her short overcloak by the doorway. "Becky, keep her in line. I give you permission to suplex her in any way you see fit."

"I prefer to use the spanking method," said Becky.

Elenore went off, while Becky glared at Ginger evilly so she could get to work. Grudgingly, Ginger began cleaning house, starting with the vacuuming of the Elenore's room.

"'Don't look into my closet,' she says," grumbled Ginger. She threw open the doors and rummaged through her clothes, which consisted of nothing but maid outfits, aprons, one schoolgirl swimsuit, panties, bras, and some sexy lingerie. The horsewhip was there as well.

Ginger rummaged deeper and found a large locked trunk, which she easily opened with her lockpicking abilities, and she discovered a treasure trove of lesbian porn videos, with the top stack consisting of the new DVDs.

"Ah, so she is a closet tribade," said Ginger. "Oh well."

She dragged out the trunk into the living room and opened it before Becky, who was reading an article about the Ottoman Ottoman of Power being showcased at the famous French museum, the Louvre.

"Thanks girl," said Becky.

"No prob," said Ginger.

Ginger then resumed cleaning the rest of the house. She locked herself inside Margaret's room to get her mind off all the moans from the lesbian porn Becky had put on the television screen. There on Margaret's desk was a scarlet red book that looked similar to the Fourthary she took from Tuesday Thursday in the village of El Camino in Chapter 13. She wondered where it went when Red borrowed it. Curious, she flipped through the pages of the Secondary and saw the same gibberish and all those tadpole or sperm creatures. She flipped further and found some missing pages, bloodstains, semen stains, fecal stains, and a mayonnaise stains.

"This book," Ginger muttered. The book was luring her in, and she could hear in her head a male chorus chant composed by Yuki Kajiura, I believe.

"Sarkus, Sark..."

She slammed the book shut, and wide grin drew across her face. "I think this book might work. I'll go find Red! Er, no, she's cozy with that space case. Shit, I can't stand to hear another banter from those too. Ugh. Hmm..."

Ginger came out of the room looking for Becky, but only found HLS lounging by the couch and Mira put into the trance of a six-girl lesbian orgy. Realizing that Ginger was watching her, Mira jumped and covered the television screen.

"Ah, Ginger!" Mira cried.

"Where's Sis?"

"Becky? Oh, she went out to gather information on the next glass slipper fragment."

"Or go out drinking at bars. In any case, get your things ready. We're going out."

Knowing full well that they were supposed to stay and watch the house and Ginger, Mira stood up and saluted. She just could not refuse Ginger, especially in her Sexy Ginger-French Maid form.

"Yes ma'am!" she cried.

However, HLS protested, not because of the breach of responsibilities, but because she didn't want to be all alone and horny. Regardless, Mira apologized to their female canine and locked her in. HLS sat down and whined.

Mira packed her pistol with her tranquilizer and syringe pistols, while Ginger brought the scarlet book in her hand with her Gingerbat sheathed like a sword on her back. They took the bus to the busy main streets where all the tourists trudged through and where illegal vendors set up shop. Almost eyes were on them, but not because of Ginger's sexy French maid outfit; well, in some ways it was. Mira followed Ginger lustfully and never left her eyes from Ginger's body. Mira had her hands buried deep into her panties, and that was garnered the most attention.

"Is that the Fourthary?" Mira asked.

"It's something different," replied Ginger.

"So what are we doing?"


Ginger approached a young German man and engaged in a quick conversation in broken German. As she found out, he spoke fluent English, albeit with an accent, and was literature major.

"Excellent!" cried Ginger. "Perhaps you can help me translate this book."

"I'll try," said the German.

He received the book and flipped through the pages. Though taken aback by the many human stains, he still could not translate the book.

"Perhaps this will help," said Ginger as she handed him a scrap of paper. The man read it and uttered, "Sarkus, Sark."

He dropped the book and soon he was cackling and foaming in the mouth. He twisted and ran into people muttering incoherently until Ginger gave him a good whack in the head with the Gingerbat. She pretended to feel his pulse, and of course, he was still alive. Then she proceeded to rummage through his pants for his wallet and his bag for his camera.

"He stole my stuff," she told the bystanders. Surprisingly, they believed her, for in almost all societies people looked down upon people foaming in the mouth.

Ginger and Mira went a few ways away from the busy main street to gasoline station where they ran into a middle-aged Nafrece woman. Like the young German male, Ginger showed her the book and the scrap piece of paper. And like the man before her, the woman foamed in the mouth, began yelling incoherently, and waved her arms crazily. Ginger knocked her out and then stole all the woman's money.

"She tried to hit on me," Ginger said to the gas station attendants. "And cheated me out of money and stuff."

"She did?" Mira asked.

Mira kicked the woman two times, as if to curry favor. Alas, Ginger didn't notice and had moved on to her next victim.

The process repeated throughout the entire city, as if an outbreak of people foaming in the mouth and going crazy had broke out, and the one closest to the symptoms was Ginger and Mira. As usual, Ginger knocked them out and stole all their money, and if they had them expensive cameras and camcorders. Mira continued to follow her and bear silent witness to her shenanigans just for the sake of ogling at her French maid outfit. For her, it was the closest thing to a date with Ginger.

The some odd things began to happen when Ginger called on a Vietnamese-Canadian man who she assumed was Chinese, and he took that as somewhat of an insult.

"Well, whatever," said Ginger. "Could you please read this strange book for me? I think it came from Vietnam."

The Vietnamese Canadian flipped through the pages, and suddenly he gasped.

"Hey, I didn't give you the scrap paper," she said.

"This is..." he gasped. "This is my semen!"

Poof! The man disappeared. Ginger, now holding the Secondary, looked around in confusion.

"Where'd that man go?" Ginger asked.

"What man?" asked Mira.

Ginger shrugged her shoulders. She then went over to an Italian woman who had left the gelato shop. She showed her the book, and she suddenly gasped about her feces being stained in the book. Poof! She disappeared just like the... who? Anyway, Ginger looked around wondering where that woman went until she lost interest. She and Mira then bought gelato for themselves. As they walked out, they headed over to the park and ran into a Texan tourist mumbling that Nafrece was like France, except with more pirates. Ginger showed him the book once more.

"Oh Lord," he gasped. "My mayonnaise! My mayonnaise is here!"

Poof! The man was gone! What man? Ginger shut the book in her hands and turned to face Mira behind her.


"Of course!" Mira said.

Mira ordered a pair of hearty gyros and soda from the roving gyro vendor cart. She forgot to wash her hands, and did not tell Ginger who gorged on her meal on one of the many stone park tables for two. Mira was blushing uncontrollably because Ginger had inexplicably seated herself and Mira at the couple's sector of the park. During their meal, Mira flipped through the pages of Secondary becoming awed by its exotic mysticism and the story behind the torn pages and the bloodstains.

"Can you read it?" Ginger asked.

"In all my travels I never come across something so mysterious as this," said Mira.

"Yeah, what's with all that tadpole-sperm creatures?"

"This script doesn't look like prose or even poetry. It's some kind of programming code."

"Which I cannot read. Do you suppose that we're carrying a physical execution software in our hands?"

"It needs a system to read it, so I suppose humans are the system."

"We could try getting apes to read it."

"Nah, that wouldn't work. They're crazy enough as it is."

"What about those blood stains?"

"Well, I could do a DNA analysis, but even if we get the code there's no real way of finding out who it belonged to."

"I'd like to find out too, for profit's sake. You know, I could have sworn that there were semen, fecal, and mayonnaise stains in there."

Ginger closed the book, held it in her hands and got up from her seat. "Time for my next reader-victim." She locked on to a young couple sitting at the stone bench and skipped over them.

"Hey young lovers!" Ginger smiled. "I know you're busy and all, or about to get busy, but since you look like college students, can you two help me with me with this book I'm researching?"

Before she could even open the book, a scantily clad fair-haired Asian girl fell on top of Ginger.

"My butt," said Nahal. "Damn squirrel."

Nahal turned around and saw Mira sinisterly looming over her.

"Um, hello," smiled Nahal uneasily.

Mira drew out her loaded syringe pistol. "My jihad begins. You die now."

So begins a comedic chase around the park as Mira ran after a frightened Nahal in the clear lawns. Though Mira's targeting was above average, Nahal's blocking through the use of her knife sent the syringe bullets into various people and animals. Most the syringe bullets had carried the P-Scratcher allergen, a potent enema agent, and the latest flatulence bullet developed on the suggestion of Ginger. Ginger got back onto to her feet and watched the latter stages of the chase.

"Damn it Mira, you shouldn't have read the book!" she yelled. Then she held up the scrap piece of paper containing the translation and the activation of the mystical book.

"Or has she?" Ginger wondered.

Nahal had finally lost Mira by leaping up to the flat rooftop of a tall residential building that was filled with rectangular planters.

"That woman is crazy," she said as she caught her breath as she leaned against the side of a glass atrium. "Getting the Secondary is not going to be easy with her around."

Then she heard something. Nahal leapt to the middle of the rooftop with her knife drawn out. Her eyes and slowly turned according to her focused ears, but she stopped when she saw an effeminate black man in a suit eating peanuts from a bag.

"So that was Secondary's power," he said. "But alone, it is only effective at a limited range."

"Who are you?" asked Nahal. "Something tells me that you are but a shadow. There is an evil and yet unreal aura about you. What are you?"

"I am who I am," he smiled.

"You know about the holy books so well. Are you after them?"

"I am, under orders from my superiors."

"I see then. I have no choice but to kill you."

"I am but one of three, but as of now you're in my trap."

The planters and the glass atrium as vines snaked their way to Nahal, who was now slicing them to pieces. The man was suddenly lifted into the air by the vines.

"I am George Washington Carver," he announced. "I am certain we'll meet again, if you dare."

The vines took him down and he disappeared. Nahal wrestled and cut through the vines until she leapt to the rooftops of another building.

After school, Margaret and Red met with Carrossea Doon again and showed him the book. Sitting down by the table of a smaller park closest to Margaret's school, he flipped through pages pretending to read and translate in his mind.

"Well?" said Margaret. "Can you read it?"

"I have no freaking clue," said Carrossea.

"That's too bad."

"But no doubt about it. This script is Elies of the holy words of Saruon. Yet there is something about this..."

He flipped further into the book and found crimson stains on its pages. He gasped.

"What's wrong?" asked Margaret.

"This is..." he stuttered. "This is... my blood!"

Red walked over and bent towards the book. She sniffed the blood, and then suddenly licked it, grossing out Carrossea in the process.

"It's ketchup," said Red. "That's what Mira told me."

"Ketchup?" said Carrossea. He sniffed another spot of stains and then licked it. "It is ketchup."

"Catsup?" said Margaret. "There should be blood in my book."

She closed the book and finally realized that Red brought the wrong book.

"I'm sorry Mister Doon," Margaret bowed, "I brought the wrong book."

"Wrong book?" asked Carrosea.

"Is it possible we can meet again?"


His cellphone vibrated in his pants. He walked away to answer so he could make sure the girls didn't hear him.

"Yes of course," he said. "Could you hold on a sec?"

He turned around to them. "How about we meet on Monday?"

"It's a date!" Margaret said.

"That's cute."

"See you later!"

Hand-in-hand Margaret and Red got into the bus and headed home. Carrossea then went to a more secluded are in the small park, and that happened to be the portable toilet set outside the broken bathroom nearby. He didn't have time to fumble through his pocket for change and bills for the pay-toilets.

"Okay, now I can talk," said Carrossea. "What did you say before Mister Friday Monday?"

"There seems to be a situation," said Friday Monday. "It seems there is another party after the books: the Prototype I-Jin, or P-I-Jin."

"The P-I-Jin?"

"I haven't told you this, but Enfant and the P-I-Jin are part of an non-interference agreement. While we continue our operations, they protect us from the British Royal Library who would otherwise be after the Holy Books. Unfortunately..."

"They have turned on us."

"Exactly. Their leader, Ikkyu Sìjun, has now taken a nihilistic approach to his cause and seeks to destroy all humanity with our books. Three of his operatives are now in Nafrece's capital. Some of our men have encountered them, but have never reported back."

"I understand. I'll get right to it."

"Do not fail me."

They hung up. Carrossea pocketed his cellular phone and sighed. Since he was sitting on a toilet, he felt it was high time to pee and poop for a short while. Once he finished, he turned the knob. The door would not open. After many jiggling, he started banging on the door and the walls, screaming, "Help! Someone get me out of here!"

Outside, no one could help as they were either foaming in the mouth while rolling on the ground, or unconscious thanks to the trusty Gingerbat. Mira looked with patient curiosity at the effects of Secondary, and around that time Ginger became a little less evil and went off to not only lock Carrossea inside the portable toilet, but also to wrap it with chains and splatter stink bombs on the vents.

"Ha-ha-ha!" Ginger laughed. "That'll show him!"

"Who's out there?" Carrosea asked.

"I'm not listening! La-la-la-la-la-la..."

"Let me out! Noooooo!"

Ginger walked out laughing her ass off with a black trash bag full of stolen money, credit cards, identification cards, cameras, and camcorders. Taking one last look of Ginger's victims, Mira caught up to her.

"You're just going to leave them like that?" Mira asked.

"Do I give a fuck?"

"Ah, of course. I should have known."

Ginger sighed. "I'm still not satisfied. Even after doing an impromptu presentation in a park full of people, I didn't create the amount of chaos I so desired."

"I suggest you get everyone in the world to do it."

"Brilliant fucking idea! As a reward, you get..."

"A kiss?"

"Hell no! What do I look like, a tribade?"

Strike #313. Heartbroken, Mira slouched in defeat. To cover up her crush on Ginger, she muttered, "I was kidding."

Ginger patted her on the shoulder. "I knew you were. But this is not the time for rewards! We must put my plan to work, but first I'd like to test on a small yet municipal scale. To get everyone to read my book and recite the words of human behavior, we need the cooperation of all the local radio and television stations, and maybe some internet broadcasters as well. We'll put up a show! Right there, underneath the Eiffel Tower!"

"That's the Paris Tower," Mira corrected. "We're in Nafrece, remember?"

"What are you, my lawyer?"

"If you want me to be..."

"Whatever. Let us go my compatriot! The doom of this city awaits us!"

"Yes ma'am!"

Becky could have sworn that she had been seeing things on her way from the pub. No, her primary reason for going wasn't for a drink or two. Or three. Or five. She had to meet up with an informant sent by Gottmutter on confirmation on the next glass slipper fragment. She shrugged her shoulders and headed home. When she got there, she bumped into Elenore who had done all her errands.

"Ah, Miss Wolfe," greeted Elenore. "You didn't leave Ginger alone at the house, did you?"

"I asked Mira to watch over her," said Becky. "But..."

They heard a crash not far from more. Both Elenore and Becky ran over to the apartment and saw the place being ransacked.

"Have we been robbed?" asked Elenore.

"I knew it was here!" cried Margaret.

"I'm so sorry!" Red cried.

"It's not your fault, it's..."

Elenore and Becky headed over to the Margaret's bedroom, and saw Margaret sitting on the bed clutching the Fourthary in her arms as if it was her precious Secondary. HLS sat by her, occasionally licking her thigh as comfort.

"Miss Margaret!" cried Elenore. "Did something happen?"

"My picture book..." muttered Margaret. "It's gone."

She then got off the bed and uttered in a very deep, sinister, and demonic voice:


A shockwave of shivers was sent down Red, Becky, and Elenore's spine, and HLS ran out of the room whimpering. Then Margaret's expression brightened up with a cute and innocent smile.

"Let's go find my book!" she said.

"Okay," said Becky. "Let's go find your book... before the sun goes down."

"But where should we start?" asked Margaret.

"Good question. I shall inquire HLS about the situation."

Becky turned towards the living room and found that HLS was still whimpering from Margaret's evil speech.

"On second thought, I'm not good at talking to dogs," said Becky. "And frightened ones are hard to get information out of."

"I say all this was Ginger's fault," said Elenore. "I expected Miss Rama to be responsible one."

"I expect so. It's all Ginger's fault!"

"So Ginger took the book?" asked Margaret.

"Um, we're not suggesting that!" said Red. "Perhaps she and Mira went out and just didn't come back."

"That's it!" Becky said. "They just didn't come back!"

Elenore, Red, and Becky were very certain that Ginger did take the Secondary out for a joyride. As much as she was a brat, they did not want to wish Margaret's wrath on her, for it was likely that Ginger would place part of the blame on her own comrades.

"I say we find Ginger and Mira and enlist their help," said Becky.

"Shouldn't we file burglary report?" asked Elenore.

"No!" cried Margaret. "You shouldn't! I don't want anyone handling the book."

"Which is why we need Ginger's information gathering abilities," said Becky. "I'll give her a call."

They began to clear up the room partway as Becky began calling both Ginger and Mira's cellphones, but they received no answer.

"She said it would work here," said Becky. "Damn, I can't seem to get a connection."

"Are they out of range?" asked Elenore.

"Sounds like it. Ginger hardly ever leaves her cellphone off--or perhaps she threw her current one away and stole another person's cellphone that used a different carrier. She must be doing some hacking right now."

"Ginger's on TV!" Red cried.

They looked (and thankfully Becky closed the trunk containing the lesbian porn stash, otherwise Elenore and the others would have noticed). There was Ginger speaking before the press and a prominent news anchor on the event that was suddenly being held at around 5:00 PM underneath the Paris Tower.

"It will be the greatest spectacle everyone have seen!" Ginger cried.

"But there is some speculation on what you are going to reveal?" asked the television reporter.

"That is a secret that must be seen and read. That is why the local media have cooperated so well with us."

"The Paris Tower," said Becky. "Once we find Ginger, we can go look for the book."

"Before sundown," Elenore added with great unease in her tone.

So they packed up their things and headed off. They were about to take the bus, but traffic was backed up so badly due to the hype surrounding the spectacle.

As it turned out, Ginger has used Secondary to make key executives of the local media companies foam at the mouth, allowing her to walk in a pose as their lawyer despite still being in her sexy French maid outfit. That allowed her to get not only a spot underneath the Paris tower, but a stage, sound and lighting equipment, cameraman, and a few helicopters.

No one really knew what was going to happen, but everyone gathered there on hearsay on that something really big was going to happen. Thus, it was an excuse to party even though it was the smack middle of the workweek. A lot of people had gathered for this free event, and each attendee and worker were given a sealed envelope containing the words of true nature they w

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