Chapter 07: Ginger
Today has been a weird day in Memphis, Tennessee.
First off, a metal barrel rolled and bounced down the busy streets of the city. It was a sight to see--that is, until the sightseers, that being the numerous and easily distracted drivers, crashed into each other and managed to create one of the worst pileups in the city's history.
The barrel rolled and rolled until it crashes into the back bumper of a parked black sedan. Unfortunately, the sedan happened to be assigned to FBI agents Ryan Bowl and Steve Knife, who had just walked out of the Memphis FBI office to discover the barrel.
They immediately ran to move the barrel only to discover and beaten old woman inside. As they pulled her out, they also discover her severed right hand in a plastic bag full of ice, a videocassette, and a note.
After reading the note, they identified the old woman and then arrested her.
At another part of the city, the police and the social workers have found a horde of mentally challenged children between the ages of 14 and 18 wandering around the warehouse district. After rounding them up, the social workers borrowed the gym of a local high school and ordered and array of cots for the children to sleep in.
Things were going favorably until the elderly, religious, and kind social worker Elspeth came to check on the children during the night. When she opened the doors to the high school gym, she beheld a very disturbing sight--mentally challenged children (one-third of which afflicted with down syndrome) engaging in a massive orgy. Shocked and slightly aroused, Elspeth fainted.
Of course, no one can confirm what Elspeth saw was true since she was the only intelligent witness, but has remained in a catatonic state ever since. And no one would believe the ramblings of a 16-year old retarded male teenager who claimed to have nailed ten of his female comrades at that very night. That might have explained the numerous teen pregnancies, but the authorities choose to believe that the mentally challenged girls were victimized by their slave employers.
Like many other cases before this, the handsome Jonathan Dish and Patrick Spoon are called in to investigate the shoe factory where the children were forced to work in.
After going through the usual procedures of sealing off the area and zipping up corpses in black body bags, Dish and Spoon march up to the second floor offices and walk into the studio.
Spoon diligently looks through the shelves and shelves of videocassettes while Dish looked around dazed and with his hands in his pockets.
"So do you think it is true?" Spoon asked his partner.
"Hm?"
"You know, that note that says Schumacher uses mentally challenged children as slaves while making down syndrome child porn videos.
"Oh, that."
"Is something wrong?"
Their eyes met. Dish takes a deep breath.
"Why is it that we end up doing these weird investigations?" complained Dish.
"It's our job," replied Spoon. "You know, you're usually serious than me regardless of the weird situations we end with."
"I'm sorry, but it's just that my marriage with my wife is falling apart."
"That's too bad."
"I don't know why my father and Fork have to butt in... Excuse me."
Dish walks out of studio frustrated. Spoon is about to go after him until he notices a digital videocassette player connected to a video monitor. He also notices a videocassette ejected out of the player. Spoon pushes the videocassette into the player. He turns on the monitor and presses play on the player. The first image that pops up is a particularly obscene act down by two Down syndrome children.
"Oh my God!" cried Spoon.
After a couple of seconds, the video didn't seem that shocking anymore. Rather, it started to arouse his interest. Spoon regains his composure and sits to down watch the entire tape.
"Whoa," he said.
An angry Becky Wolfe storms into the lively Soul Food bar. She spots the cute black female bartender named Julie serving drinks to a middle-aged couple and heads over to her.
"Hey Becky," greeted Julie. "Is something wrong?"
"Where is Gottmutter?" Becky demanded.
"Careful," said Gottmutter's voice. "You're about break your second rule."
Becky turns and sees Venus Gottmutter just entering the bar.
"Come this way," she said.
Becky and Gottmutter go out to the back storage room where two muscular black men nonchalantly haul in the many kegs of beer and bottles of wine.
"What is it?" Gottmutter asked.
"Why didn't you tell me Schumacher worked for Güse?" Becky asked.
"Was I supposed to know? Even if I did, I would refrain from telling you because of the incident in New Orleans about month ago."
"What do you mean? I killed that Cajun, right?"
"You didn't have to torture him and his friends mercilessly like a maniac just to get information on Güse. Because of that, you barely made out of Louisiana alive!"
Becky turns and kicks the bottom of a wine shelf.
"Becky, Güse is a dangerous woman, and she and her organization are more dangerous than the Cosa Nostra, the Triads, the Yakuza, the IRA[i], al-Qaida, and the Soldats[ii] combined. Hell, we're not even supposed to talk about her. Regardless, aren't you focused on looking for that glass slipper?"
Becky remembers. She finally calms down.
"I'm following some leads in the United Kingdom," said Gottmutter. "I'll get back to you when I got some information."
"Sorry about that Gottmutter," said Becky.
Gottmutter hugs Becky. "It's all right Becky dear," she said. "It's all right."
Becky hugs Gottmutter back tightly, but not with all her heart. There is a knot in stomach saying that her best friend and mentor may be hiding something.
Back at the cabin, Red and HLS are playing in the mud hole out in the back with loaded and potentially very dangerous firearms, such as a pair black Desert Eagles, an AK-47, a gas-powered machine gun. Fortunately, the guns are all so waterlogged that their all their machinery are jammed.
Mira steps outside and calls Red.
"Red!"
Red looks out from the hole.
"What is it, Mira?"
"Oh, you two. Come over get cleaned up."
Like a kind mother, Mira hoses down Red and HLS before they were to enter the house again. However, Mira's attention is directed towards the cute and petite Red Little, and she proceeds to towel her down.
"You're such a child, Red," said Mira. "We should go upstairs and take a bath together."
Red nods.
With a devilish smile on her face, Mira marches Red up to the upstairs bathtub located inside the master bedroom's bathroom. Mira locks the bathroom door and immediately proceeds to strip herself and Red.
Just outside the bathroom sits the dog HLS, wagging her tail and waiting obediently.
With the bathtub full of warm water, Mira sits at the end while Red sits forward and in front of her between her legs. Red reclines back so that her back is resting on Mira's breasts.
Mira proceeds to wash Red's petite breasts--for about five minutes until her nipples became hard.
"You're so cute little Red," said Mira. "I can't believe you're only seventeen!"
Red giggles. "Grandma says that old men will get arrested if they put their hairy penises in my vagina."
"Would I get arrested if I put my fingers in there?"
Mira runs her right hand down to Red's crotch. Red starts to moan as Mira simultaneously fondles her left breast and her pussy.
Then, Mira hears footsteps. Suddenly, the locked bathroom door flies open. Startled, Mira shakes wildly in the bathtub without realizing that the upward thrust of her right hand stimulated Red's clitoris enough so that she ejaculated in one orgasmic cry. Of course, no one in the bathroom could tell if she actually did under the bubble-filled water.
Becky is here. She had just kicked the bathroom door open. She looks down to see Mira already giving Red pleasure.
"Mira, you dirty slut," Becky smiled.
"Grandma!" Red cried. "Come join us!"
"Okay!"
Drat, thought Mira.
Right after Becky stripped herself naked, Mira, Red, and she had a threesome--again. HLS watched.
After dinner, they had another...
...and another after going to bed.
Somewhere between or during the three threesomes an overwhelmed Mira, for health reasons probably, had complained that there should only be three threesomes per day. More than likely, Beck and Red agreed to her request while having performing oral daisy chain on each other.
On the next morning, Mira purposely interrupts and starts to make out with Becky, who had been trying to the old jeep in the garage separate from the cabin.
Soon enough, Red comes barging in.
"Grandma!" she yelled. "I broke the computer!"
Red looks over and spots Mira and Becky's legs and feet protruding from behind the jeep. She walks over and sees Becky on top of Mira with their shirts open and breasts exposed.
"Red-chan," said Becky.
Drat, thought Mira.
Red smiles and immediately takes off her clothes. She joins Becky and Mira to form a threesome. Again, HLS watched.
After the threesome, Mira made a mental note to check off one of the three allowed threesomes per day. She goes back to the cabin to the dishes and then masturbates.
Becky then resumes attempting to repair the jeep to no avail. She had asked Red to download a repair manual off the Internet. Instead, Red somehow ended up in a porn website that bombarded the laptop computer's operating system with pop-up windows advertising many things such as a secret bestiality orgy sect in Alabama, a reopening of a watersports lounge that serve ginger ale made from urine, Gene Duo Biggs's controversial online art gallery of white and black women engaging in outrageously weird acts in the nude, a memorial fan site to Gregory Jacob's (A.K.A. Humpty Hump's) lost nose, and down syndrome child porn. Red could not stop the pop-ups as they re-spawn when she closes a window. Thinking that the laptop computer has been possessed, she resolves the problem by shooting it with her handgun.
Red joins Becky in trying to figure out how to get an unused vacation jeep running. Obviously, neither of them, including Becky and HLS, are mechanics, and they need the jeep as an additional transport when Mira uses the Civic to visit her estranged infant son who is under the care of a former co-worker.
"What do you think, Red-chan?" Becky asked as she and Red stare at the exposed engine of the jeep.
"I think that some day tribades will get their girlfriends or wives pregnant through tribadism," said Red.
"I'll keep that in mind. What else?"
"Hmmm..."
Becky begins to think as well. Using her Shinseiki katana to fix the jeep might not be a smart idea.
"I know!" Red said.
Red pulls out her shotgun, cocks it, and aims it directly at the car engine. She shoots. The jeep explodes and sets the entire garage on fire.
It is too late for Becky to warn Red not to use firearms as a substitute for power tools. Luckily, they escape the explosion with their limbs and skin intact.
So Becky does the usual scolding by boxing Red's ears and calling her "baka Red-chan." Then the two went inside to eat some of Mira's delicious home-cooked corn bread along with whiskey, juice, and Pixy Stix.
After that, the girls had another threesome. HLS watched.
Mira then made a mental note to check off number two of the three allowed threesomes per day.
She then takes a shower, dresses nicely, and heads downstairs so she can drive the blue Honda Civic Si sedan over to her estranged infant son.
Right when she opens the front door, she notices a United States Postal Service van driving away from her. She takes a step and notices that her foot hits something. She looks down to see a boxy package.
It might be a bomb, thought Mira.
"Is that a package?" asked Becky.
Becky runs down the stairs and accidentally kicks the package across the front yard, which causes Mira's heart to thump and jump. Becky then picks up the package and starts to shake it wildly. Mira's heart starts to beat faster and faster in anticipation of an explosion.
"Becky!" gasped Mira. "That might be..."
"Oh, yeah!" said Becky. "Gottmutter must have found that glass slipper."
"Glass slipper?"
Becky puts the box down and unsheathes her Shinseiki katana. She vertically slices open the package and out spills a bunch of white packaging popcorn, an invoice, and a small sex toy encased in a plastic. Becky picks up the sex toy and takes a closer look, while Mira joins her.
"What is it?" Mira asked.
"Dunno," replied Becky.
Becky rips open the plastic with her mouth. To their astonishment, the item is a crimson double strap-on.
"A strap-on," said Becky, "with two dildos."
"But they are so small," added Mira. "Yet, they are cute."
"Maybe it's a fad to imitate the dicks of young boys. You know, for those older women types."
"Or the older men types."
"But why two I wonder?"
Suddenly, Becky takes off her pants and panties and attempts to try it on. The double strap-on will not stay on, as the harnesses are too short to go around her thighs and buttocks.
"It doesn't fit," said Becky.
"That's too bad," said Mira.
Becky looks at Mira, and then smiles.
"Take off your pants," commanded Becky, "and your panties."
Mira's face reddens. "What?" she said.
As it turns out, Becky did not want to try to use the double strap-on Mira, but to see if it fits on her. No go. The harnesses are still too short go around Mira's smaller thighs and buttocks.
"I wonder what this is for?" asked Mira.
"It might fit on Red-chan," said Becky. "Red-chan!"
"Coming!" yelled Red.
Red Little comes running out through the front door and joins up with the pantyless Becky and Mira, who are toying with the small double strap-on.
"Ah, it arrived!" cried Red. "HL-Snagglepuss!"
Their dog, the female Huckleberry-Lindenberg-Snagglepuss (HLS for short) comes running from the side of the cabin and joins up with Becky, Mira, and Red. Red takes the small double strap-on and puts it on HLS. The sex toy is a perfect fit for HLS, as evidenced by her happy tail wagging.
Astonished, Becky and Mira's jaws drop.
"There you go, HL-Snagglepuss," said Red. "Now off you go."
"Arf!" barked HLS.
And so HLS runs off towards town pursuing her canine homosexuality.
Becky and Mira turn their heads toward Red.
"Y-you mean," gasped Mira, "that double strap-on wasn't for you?"
"W-where did you get that Red-chan?" Becky asked.
"At the Online Erotic Pet Store!" Red answered.
Becky and Mira slowly turn their heads to each other. Then they turn back towards the cute and smiling Red.
"One of these days, you're gonna show me that website," said Becky.
Then she looks down and notices Red's amusing t-shirt that read "I'm an Angel, and I fuck yo' mama!"
"And you also gotta tell me where you get your t-shirts," she added.
"Okay, Grandma!" smiled Red.
And I gotta find the other half of her glass slipper or else I'm gonna be called 'Grandma' until I become one, Becky thought.
At that point, Red alternate looking at Becky and Red because they are pantsless and pantyless.
"What is it Red?" Mira asked.
Red looks down at her exposed crotch. Mira's face reddens and she immediately covers herself.
"Now that we're pantyless, let's have another threesome!" said Becky.
"Wai!" cheered Red. "Threesome! Threesome!"
"But I have to visit my son right now!" complained Mira.
"Don't worry," said Becky. "We'll keep it under ten minutes."
"Threesome! Threesome!" continued Red as she undresses herself.
Damnit! thought Mira. Becky and I were pantyless first! We should be having sex!
The girls commenced another threesome on the spot. It was quite enjoyable despite Mira's inner objections. This time, however, HLS was not there to watch since she was fucking the brains out of a border collie.
As promised, Becky and Red kept the threesome romp at exactly nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds. Mira rushes to take another shower and dresses in clean clothes. She then drives off in the Civic Si while making a note to check off number three of the three allowed threesomes per day.
Naked, Becky and Red sits in the front yard staring out to the world.
"Let's go to grandma Petersons's store!" Red said.
"We can't," said Becky. "She and her husband are dead. The shop is closed."
"Oh."
For a couple more seconds, they stare out to the world.
"How about we go to the record store?" suggested Red.
"Sure," said Becky. "Why not?"
"Yay!"
Red leaps up to her feet and runs down the road that leads to the town.
"Record store! Record store!" Red cheered.
"Hey!" Becky screamed. "Put some clothes on first! We don't want to attract any dirty old men!"
After putting her clothes on first, Becky manages to catch up to the streaking Red and slaps onto her her amusing t-shirt, her short-shorts, her crimson riding hood, and a concealed firearm. Something else was missing, but Becky immediately forgets as they arrive into town.
Inside the local record store, Red browses the oxymoronic Pop/Rock section while Becky searches high and low for any semblance goth-rock, punk-rock, metal, death metal, or at least any music group that have not sold themselves to a major record label.
"Do you have any albums by Korn?" Becky asked the record storeowner Ted.
"Town statute states we can't carry any album that has had a parental advisory label on it," replied Ted, "even if it is a clean version.
"How about Orgy?"
"Nope."
"Offspring[iii]?"
"Nope."
Becky sighs. "Thanks for your help."
As Becky sulks off, she spots an alluring CD album that has three sexy blonde girls on the cover with a very suggestive title. Becky remembers seeing a lesbian (tribade) porn video of the very same title, and thinks that might be a soundtrack or an image album. Becky rushes to pick up the album in order to take a closer look.
"Whoo-hoo!" she cried. "This might be interesting!"
Unfortunately, she discovers that she has been deceived. The CD happens to be of Dixie Chicks top-selling release Wide Open Spaces[iv]. Becky thought the group's name was "Dyke Chicks" due to the unique font. Disappointed, Becky returns the album to the country section where she found it.
"Grandma!" cried Red.
Becky turns to see Red has selected another purchase--it is another Britney Spears CD.
"Red-chan," said Becky. "I bought the album compilation, remember?"
"But I don't have the single."
"Red-chan..."
Before Becky can say anything to avoid such a purchase, Red gives her the puppy-dog eyes of financial death. Becky gives in pats Red on the head.
"Fine," said Becky. "I'll purchase the single."
"Yippie!" cheered Red.
At that moment, an old white Caucasian male and a black deputy walks into the record store. The old white male is the aptly named Commissioner White, and the black deputy is the aptly named Deputy Black. Commissioner White begins to talk to the storeowner Ted. Ted turns and points directly towards Becky and Red. White and Black begin to head over to the two girls.
"Dirty old man approaching from three o'clock," Red whispered. She quietly puts her hand on the pistol hidden under her shirt and gets ready to pull it out.
Becky puts her hand on Red's shoulder. "Wait a second," said Becky. "Let's see what they want."
"Are you the girls who reported the death of the Petersons?" asked Commissioner White.
"Yes," replied Becky. "What of it?"
Commissioner White turns to Deputy Black. Black nods and gives Becky a set of tri-folded papers.
"What is this?" asked Becky as.
"The Petersons' will states that the last people who were present at their deaths will be the ones to inherit their general store," replied White.
Becky opens up the papers and skims through them.
"God bless their souls," continued White.
"Red's name is written on this will," said Becky.
"Indeed."
White pats Red on the head.
"You are the new owner of their general store little girl," he said.
Red's innocent eyes peers back up to Commissioner White. He smiles back at her.
"Are you a dirty old man?" asked Red.
White blushes. Deputy Black and the storeowner Ted started chuckle quietly.
"Hey," said White. "Be quiet you two!"
Luckily for the commissioner, Becky and Red leaves to check out the general store before Red had any thoughts of gunning down a possible child molester or sex offender.
When they arrived, the general store had begun to fall apart and had acquired large amounts of dust. The newspaper dispensers had been broken into, and the main window has a large crack. A famished female terrier of the late Petersons' paces around the back of store wondering where her owners have gone. HLS catches sight of the terrier chases her down the alley. The terrier now has a third encounter with the large female Doberman--this time, with specially made double-dildo strap-on for tribade dogs.
Becky and Red enter the general store. There is dust and cobwebs all over the empty shelves. Sleeping between the aisles is resident crack addict Joe who had just woken up upon the girls' entrance.
Becky and Red turn their faces towards crack addict Joe, who is frantically gathering all his belongings onto his person.
"Oh, sorry, ladies," said Joe. "I'll leave right away. Hey, Davina! We gotta go!"
"Okay," said a very deep voice.
Out from the unisex restroom comes a very tall male transvestite heroin addict with long messed-up bleached hair, heavy make up, and hair stubbles on his shaved legs. The grossed-out Becky and Red resisted all temptations of slicing and shooting up of Davina until he left the store with Joe.
Now, Becky and Red stand inside a general store they inadvertently inherit. What to do with it, did they wonder.
The two of them decided to reopen store better and faster than how the Petersons ran it. This time, they will serve cornbread in the café and it will be good.
Throughout the whole day, Becky and Red cleaned up the dust, the filth, and the semen stains left behind by time and by two drug addicts.
When the evening came, Mira came back from her visit to her estranged son. She notices that the lights are on in the late Petersons' general store. She stops the car in front and goes inside to investigate.
Becky finishes up tidying up the shelves in preparation for a reopening. Meanwhile, Red sweeps her dust broom happily to the blaring tune of Britney Spears' latest single coming from a CD boom box.
"Baka-Red-chan," said Becky. "You're supposed to sweep the dust into the dust pan, not into the trash bin."
"Sorry, Grandma," said Red.
"Hey guys," Mira greeted.
"Mira!" greeted Red.
"Hey Mira," greeted Becky. "How did your visit go?"
"Beck Red Rama is doing fine!" said Mira.
"Beck Red?"
"I've named my son after you guys."
"That's so neat!" cried Red. "Are we godparents now?"
"Of course you are! So what are you guys doing?"
"We're tidying up this place for its grand-reopening!" replied Becky. "Plus we'll use this store as a front and a secondary source of income just incase we don't have any mercenary-assassination jobs for a while."
"I see."
"And we're renaming it 'Red's'."
"Red's?"
"A dirty old man gave me the deed to this store," said Red. "I have a store!"
"A dirty old man?"
They hear a knock on the glass door.
"Excuse me," said a black female voice.
"I'm sorry, but we're not open yet," said Becky.
A pretty black woman comes into view.
"Julie?"
"Hello Becky," greeted Julie. "I couldn't find you at the cabin, but a deputy told me you'd be here."
"Has Gottmutter sent you?"
"Indeed. She said that there is an urgent job that needs to be done if you choose to accept it."
Becky and the gang close up the shop and take a quick trip to the Soul Food bar in Nashville. After receiving the details from Gottmutter herself, Becky accepts the job despite the sudden urgency. She needs the money to buy a new jeep, a motorboat, repair the garage, and pay for the expensive wireless Internet service.
The grand opening of 'Red's' will have to wait.
Somewhere in Somerville, New Jersey.
The first week of April in the year 1999 C.E..
Today has been a special day in the Somerville public library, for it has unveiled its new installation of new computers for use with catalog searching and Internet browsing. The librarians and system administrators spent the entire day instructing others and themselves on the proper use the new technology.
After a man spent hours online browsing through porn sites, the librarians thought about installing filtering software.
The evening came, and it is three hours until closing time. The library patrons sit in front of the computers browsing. For most of them, this is the first time that there is an incredible wealth of utterly useless, offensive, and outright wrong information right on their fingertips.
However, one of patrons, who is sitting at the very middle, chuckles as she presses the spacebar key. She quietly logs off and walks away from her terminal with a mischievous smile.
After she left the library, the patrons continue their innocent browsing of the World Wide Web. Then suddenly all the computer monitor screens start to malfunction and flicker. The patrons begin to complain at the loss of service until the screens turn back on. Instead of the usual login screen, there is an animated computer image of a fully clothed Jesus having doggy-style sex with seems to be a fully clothed Mary Magdalene.
The outrage pours in. Parents cover their children's eyes. The librarians and system administrators rush to fix the problem, but they fail. The network is infected with an intricate computer virus, which they cannot seem to get rid of.
The librarians had to close the library early. A special FBI unit headed by Paul Cooker and Stanley Rice Steamer is sent to investigate and contain the spread of the virus.
They are not surprised on who the culprit is. Underneath the animated computer image of the Jesus-Mary sex is the calling card of a hacker they have been after for many months. Like all the hacks and website defacements she has done, her calling card message went like this:
I've pissed on a fat old hag,
A dirty old man,
The ACLU,
The Democrats,
The Catholics,
The Microsoft Corporation,
The Aryan Nation,
And the Southern Baptists,
And I will keep pissing on you, I will!
Run, run as fast as you can, you mother-fuckin' Feds!
You can't catch me, I'm the Gingerbread Grrl!
Mwa-ha-ha!
Riding on a rickety green scooter is a beautiful and tomboyish girl laughing manically at the virus she had just implanted on the Somerville public library. She has very short hair and is dressed in black slacks, black Lugz shoes, and a black jacket. She wears glasses and a t-shirt that reads "People Suck" on the front. Often times, she can be mistaken as a teenage boy. Her name is Ginger Baker--AKA, the Gingerbread Grrl. She is 18 years old and a runaway.
Ginger returns home to an apartment she had swindled from a couple by posing as a county commission secretary. After parking her green scooter, Ginger grabs her mail from one of the stuffed mail boxes and then heads over to her apartment on the second floor. Waiting for her on the stairs are two young men in trench coats and baseball caps. The lanky and extremely longhaired one is Jay, and the stout and round bearded fellow is the aptly named Silent Bob.
"Yo Ginger!" cried Jay.
Ginger looks up and sees the offbeat duo.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"You still owe me for the hashish I gave you."
Ginger searches her jacked for something to give to Jay as payment. She pulls out a 3com Palm Pilot personal digital assistant (PDA) and tosses it over to him.
"What the hell is this?"
"It's a Palm Pilot," said Ginger. "You can put your hoochies' phone numbers in it."
"I don't want it."
"Then sell it; give it back to the local economy for all I care."
Ginger brushes past the duo while the dumbfounded Jay toys with his new device. Silent Bob watches as Ginger disappears into her apartment.
It is dark inside. Ginger walks past a trip laser and the entire living room flashes brightly to life. An array of computers, monitors, and thermal pipes run about the area, and there is little room to move around. There is a small twin-sized mattress on the floor in the very middle of all this technology.
Ginger flips through the mail, which consists of rental, electric, and credit card bills, as well as numerous misdemeanor fines she has to pay. She organizes them on a tiny table by the wall next to the hallway. Hanging on the wall before her in numerous Mylar sleeves is a mosaic of fake identification cards and fraudulent credit cards under many identities, some of which have made-up names while the rest are those from identity theft.
Ginger opens up a thick three-ring binder and that was lying on the floor. She flips through it and pulls out a select number of fraudulent checks from different checkbooks. She writes in the exact amount and forges a unique signature on each check to match up to each bill. She then organizes each check and bill and stuffs them into an overflowing letter bin that reads "to pay." Of course, she would just forget to mail the bills and instead decides to forge a new account or steal a new identity just to receive services.
After having a quick meal of instant noodles, she takes a quick shower and changes into her usual sleepwear, which consists of just her undergarments and a tight-baby t-shirt. If not for her short hair, Ginger is very cute and feminine.
Ginger takes off her glasses and sets it aside. Then she plops down on her lonely mattress and starts curling up. After fifteen minutes of idle operation, all of her computers go into "sleep" mode, and all the lights in her apartment slowly dim to blackness. Ginger sleeps through the rest of the night amidst the whirring of the cooling fans, the pulsing of the rubber cooling tubes, the grinding of the hard drives, and the hum and buzz of the computer power supplies and surge suppressors.
On the next day at noon, Ginger tries to purchase coffee at the local Starbucks with a fraudulent Discover credit card.
"It's not going through," said Mariel, the cashier.
"Try this one," said Ginger.
Ginger hands Mariel a fraudulent CapitalOne[v] Visa card.
"Sorry, but this doesn't work," said Mariel.
By this time, a line is starting to form from behind Ginger. Unfortunately, the only cashier on duty is Mariel, and the customers, who range from trendy sixteen year-olds, yuppies, and white-collar workers, are becoming restless.
"How about I write you a check?" Ginger asked.
"Is it going to bounce like last time?"
Ginger pushes her checkbook back into her left jacket pocket. From her pants pocket, she pulls out a $100 bill.
"Here you go," said Ginger.
Mariel takes the bill and rings up the purchase. Right before she lifted the cash tray to hide the $100 bill, she notices something odd about it. She squints for about five seconds and then says:
"This bill is marked," said Mariel.
At this point, the caffeine-addicted customers in line are groaning.
Ginger sighs and starts digging all over pants and jacket pockets for any unmarked cash. One by one she musters up wads of wrinkled five and one-dollar bills as well as dirty quarters, dimes, nickels, and pennies. At the last penny, Ginger barely fulfills the amount of the $20 extra-large cappuccino--plus tax.
Ginger finally sits down drinking her frothy overpriced caffeine drink, not knowing that when she puts the cup down, she left some foam on her mouth that might indicate she might have some dirty rabies. She pulls out a wrinkled sheet of paper and flattens it out on her table. The paper is titled, "Groups to Piss Off." On the paper is a handwritten list of crossed-out names of various organizations, all of which are either benign, radical, or powerful. Chewing on her pen, which she stole from bank executive when she applied for huge loan, Ginger thought about the next target to piss off. The names that are not crossed-out on her list include the Free Software Foundation and the H. J. Heinz Company.
She's thinking about adding Starbucks on the list for various reasons.
Suddenly, a café falls silent as three imposing Caucasian fat men in long black leather trench coats and shaved heads walk in. After taking their orders of a small coffee each, they at the table at the far corner of the café where all of them can see Ginger. They take off their trench coats, revealing a small swastika pin on their suit jackets.
Ginger looks down at her list. She has "Neo-Nazis" crossed out.
Some of the offended patrons, possibly secular Jews, quietly left Starbucks. Seconds later, three fat Jewish men wearing the usual yarmulkes[vi] enter the café, ordered their coffee, and then sat another far corner where they can see Ginger.
Ginger looks down at her list. She has the "Anti-Defamation League" crossed out.
Some of the offended patrons, possibly Protestant Christians or Muslims, quietly left Starbucks. Seconds later, three well-dressed fat black men enter the café. They ordered their coffee black, and then sat down at another far corner where they can see Ginger.
Ginger looks down at her list. She has "NAACP[vii]" crossed out.
Some of the offended patrons, most likely white Anglo-Saxon Protestants, quietly left Starbucks. Seconds later, three average-looking middle-aged men walked and ordered coffee. One of them spots a little boy, winked at him, and made a sensual growling noise.
Ginger quickly looks down at her list. She has "NAMBLA[viii]" crossed out.
Okay, Ginger thought, now it's getting weird--and dangerous.
So Ginger puts away her list and quietly heads over to the ladies bathroom. Unlike the other Starbucks in the city of Somerville, this one has a narrow window high above the floor for girls to escape through or for the use male perverts. Ginger breaks the window out and squeezes herself through.
Outside, she lands painfully on the asphalt. After recovering and brushing the dust off herself, Ginger runs over to the parking lot and starts up her scooter.
"Excuse me," said a British voice.
Ginger turns around and sees a trio of blind Londoners. She notices that underneath their jackets are pistols. They are from the Royal National Institute of the Blind, another group that Ginger had crossed out on her list.
"Is this the Starbucks on Nutmeg Avenue?" asked one of the blind Londoners.
"Yes, of course."
"Thank you kind lady."
The three blind Londoners start to walk towards the café.
"Are you looking for the Gingerbread Grrl?" Ginger asked them.
The three blind men stop and turn towards Ginger.
"She's probably talking to the Nazis, the Jews, or maybe it was the black men. Anywho, one of those guys is probably hiding her."
"We will keep that in mind," said one of the blind Londoners.
The three blind men resume walking to Starbucks. Ginger drives away just in time, because a shootout between fat white and black men, some pedophiles, and three blind sharpshooters commences.
"That was close," Ginger said to herself as she rides down the long road. "I wonder who could have tipped them off?"
Then suddenly, a dark American sedan with a NRA sticker on the front window screeches out of nowhere and begins to chase Ginger. A man with a M16 assault rifle begins to fire at Ginger. Ginger makes a quick turn and loses them in the alleyway. She flies out of the alleyway and loses control as she rides down a steep hill. After a rocky ride, Ginger finally makes back to the pavement. Then she hears the roar of noisy motorbike engines approaching her. Ginger turns to see a fleet of intimidating bikers on Harley-Davidson bikes. They are the Hells Angels.
"Is that her?" said one of the bikers.
"It must be her!" said another.
The bikers draw out their handguns and start shooting at Ginger. Ginger revs up her scooter speeds away from the Hells Angels.
The chase continues down the street, and the Hells Angels are rapidly closing in. Ginger turns around to see some of the bikers falling off their bikes due to interfering gunfire. All of a sudden, a blue Civic Si sedan plows right between the Angels and Ginger.
The passenger side of the sedan faces the bikers. The front window rolls open, and an AK-74 fires at the Hells Angels. The bikers and the bikes that are not shot run away from the intense firepower.
Ginger falls of her scooter. The driver side doors fly open.
"Get in!" yelled Becky. "The Angels and the NRA are coming after you!"
Ginger obeys the young woman who happens to have wolf ears on the top of her head and dives into the back seat. The doors close right away when Becky floors the accelerator pedal.
"Red-chan, is the NRA guys right behind us?" Becky asked.
The crimson-hooded Red Little pokes her head out of the front passenger window. "They're closing in!" she cried.
The dark American sedan that assaulted Ginger from before is now firing at blue Civic she is in. Red switches to a fully automatic Glock pistol on her left hand and carefully fires at the American sedan's tires when Becky makes a sharp turn. The dark sedan spins and crashes into a wall.
Red retreats to her seat and rolls up her window. Ginger, while lying on the lap of a woman, is astounded at what she had just witnessed. She then sits back up and looks to her right and to the person she landed on.
The sight of Ginger makes Mira's face red and her heart begins to race.
Then Ginger realizes that she is also sitting with a black Doberman Pincher who has prosthetic nose on her collar instead of a dog tag. She also notices that the dog seems to have two erect penises.
"Who are you guys?" she asked.
"Oh, I'm Mira Rama!" said Mira as she held both of Ginger's hands. "I just tagged along for the ride since we were in a rush to get here. Basically, I'm a homemaker, a very important one. Say, do you go to college? What's your major?"
"I'm Becky Wolfe," said Becky. "This here is Red Little. Say hello Red."
"Hello Red!" greeted Red.
"You've already met Mira Rama, our homemaker and cook. Sitting next to you is our dog HLS."
"Bark," said HLS.
Ginger could not believe the name these strange girls gave to a dog with two well-endowed sexual appendages. Then she realizes that the strange and beautiful Pakistani woman is still holding her hands and eagerly smiling at her.
"Um, Mira is it?" said Ginger.
"Yes?"
"Let go."
"Oh, sorry!"
Mira finally lets go of Ginger's hands.
"So what do you want with me?" Ginger asked. "Did I deface your website or something?"
"We're here to protect you until we take you to the ones who paid us," replied Becky.
"Who? The mafia? The Islamic Jihad Front? The Robotech fan club?"
"Your parents."
"Shit. Those old geezers are still alive? What do they want with me?"
"Who knows?"
"Like hell I'm going back."
"You have no options. You're in a moving car, and a lot of people want you dead."
"Shit."
Minutes pass. While thinking about a way to get out of this mess, Ginger notices that Mira is taking quick and smiling glances at her. Ginger is tempted to call her some racially derogatory terms, such as "Paki", "Islamic extremist", or "terrorist", but she did not have the heart to do so. At the same time, Ginger also notices HLS chewing on her favorite toy, which is the prosthetic nose.
That nose reminds her of a song sung by a has-been rapper:
All right stop--collaborate and listen
Ice is back with my brand new invention...[ix]
"That wasn't even the right artist," Ginger said to herself.
"Bark!" said HLS.
"What do you want?"
Ginger looks over and notices a Winchell's donut shop is fast approaching. Then she looks at the trigger-happy crimson-hooded Red Little finishing loading up a pistol.
"Hey, Red," Ginger called.
"Yes?" she answered.
"Can I see that gun?"
"Sure!"
Red hands over to Ginger her gun. Ginger then opens up the window and takes aim with the pistol. She shoots.
The bullet flies from the barrel and strikes the coffee cup of a fat Somerville police officer who had just walked out of Winchell's with a bag of half-dozen donutsx. The coffee cup is knocked out of his hands and spills all over his beer belly, which then scalds him painfully.
"That's for giving me a ticket for that fake over-21 ID!" jeered Ginger.
The apparent voice of reason, Mira says nothing as she is too absorbed in staring longingly at Ginger.
"Ginger, what the hell did you just do?" Becky asked.
All of a sudden a force of police car appears out of nowhere and gives Becky and the girls a chase. Becky floors the accelerator pedal and speeds down dense traffic just as the number of police cars increase sharply.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Becky exclaimed. "That cop never did anything to you!"
"In many ways he did," said Ginger. "He and his colleagues are corrupt!"
"In what ways?"
"Um, er, I just don't like Jersey cops."
"Regardless, that was very stupid of you to waste Red's bullet," said Becky.
"I told you," started Ginger, "I don't want to go back to my old folks' home! Now drop me off at my apartment or else I'll make your life a living hell!"
"Not a chance."
"Fine!"
Ginger rolls the window back down and starts firing in random directions with Red's pistol.
"Do you need any bullets, Ginger?" Red asked.
"Girl, you're one step closer to saying to hello to my little Shinseiki," Becky said to Ginger.
"Please don't do that!" cried Mira. "There's has to be another way to quiet her down!"
"Of course there is!" cried Ginger. "Either you take me home or I'll fuck your Indian or Arab friend!"
I wouldn't mind, thought Mira.
"Fine," Becky said.
Becky dramatically spins the steering wheel and in no time she loses the cops.
She drives everyone to the run-down apartment complex that is full of lowlifes from all ethnicities and religions.
Upon parking, Ginger immediately leaps out of the car.
"Thanks for nothing, jerkwads," she waved. Ginger immediately runs back to her apartment. After entering, she breathes a sigh of relief. Then immediately, she grabs her backpack and puts in a change of underwear, extra clothes, some cash, and her favorite top-of-the-line notebook computer from IBM.
Thirty seconds has passed. Then there is a bang on the door. Ginger makes her way back to the front door and looks through the peephole. It is Becky and her friends.
"Open up," commanded Becky.
"What the fuck?" cursed Ginger.
Ginger jumps back just as Becky kicks the door open. Becky, Red, Mira, and HLS soon enter.
Becky notices Ginger's packed backpack. "Good," said Becky. "You're ready. Now let's go."
"What the fuck are you guys doin' here?" demanded Ginger. "I thought I told you to drop me off!"
"We did. You didn't specify how long you're gonna stay."
Becky grabs the collar of Ginger's black jacket and starts to drag her outside. Mira, Red, and HLS immediately follow.
"Becky, please be careful with Ginger," said Mira.
"Let go of me you bitch!" cried Ginger.
"No way," said Becky.
"Damnit!"
Ginger turns her head and sees Red trotting along with an innocent smile on her face.
"Hey, Red," said Ginger, "give me your gun."
"Okay!"
Red gives Ginger her gun. Ginger cocks the gun and pushes the barrel onto Becky's cheek.
"Now let me go!" demanded Ginger.
Becky lets go of Ginger. With the gun still aimed at Becky, Ginger struggles to her feet and starts to walk away from her and her friends.
"That's good Ms. Becky Wolfe," said Ginger. "Don't you dare move..."
Becky unsheathes her Shinseiki katana and slices Ginger's pistol in half. Ginger drops the pieces and begins to quake in her shoes.
"Sorry Red-chan," said Becky. "I'll get you a new gun."
"It's okay," said Red.
Ginger starts to smile in fear and nervousness. "Uh, say, Miss Wolfe," she stuttered, "it looks like we got off on a bad start. I'm really, really, really somewhat-sorry about my behavior and the trouble I caused for you. So, um, I guess you can take me to my parents now--even though I don't want to and that I hate their guts."
Ginger turns around and forces herself to march to parking lot. After taking two steps, she suddenly freezes. There are three very angry middle-aged women right in front of her.
"Oh, hello, bitches," greeted Ginger.
Suddenly, the three angry women drew their pistols at Ginger. Ginger gasps hard and then sprints away from them while screaming pathetically. She immediately hides behind Becky.
"Save me, save me, save me, save me, save me, save me, save me, save me, save me, save me, save me, save me, save me, save me, save me!" cried Ginger.
"Don't worry," Mira said to Ginger as she puts her hand on her shoulder. "Becky is an excellent Mercenary-Assassin."
"Who are you, and what do you want?" demanded Becky as she holds her blade in a defensive stance.
"We're from the National Organization of Women," said one of the three angry women, "and we want the girl now!"
"We're also part of the Second Amendment Sisters," said another.
"That girl has been frequently hacking and defacing our website for too long!"
"She replaced the front page with a message saying that we're man-hating lesbians out to destroy the NBA for the sake of the WNBA!"
"They're only mad because I posted a pic of Susan B. Anthony giving Theodore Roosevelt a blowjob!" cried Ginger.
"That too!" growled the three women from NOW.
Ginger cowers behind Becky again.
"You're my protection!" cried Ginger. "Now kill them! Kill them now!"
"Red-chan," Becky said, "what do you have on you?"
"A Derringer," replied Red as she shows Becky a tiny pistol that can only fire one shot.
"Okay..."
The three NOW women close in on the girls until suddenly the one angry woman in the center notices Ginger quietly giving her the finger. Seeing them distracted, Becky lunges in and quickly takes down the three NOW women in three moves. Ginger moves in to kick and stomp them repeatedly.
"Take that whiny bitches!" cried Ginger.
"Let's go!" cried Becky. Ginger immediately stops kicking.
Becky, Ginger, Red, Mira, and HLS run towards the parking lot until Becky and Red grind to a halt.
"Get down!" cried Red.
Becky and Red throw themselves and Mira and Ginger down as a rocket hits their blue Civic Si sedan. Becky and Red immediately leap up to their feet ready to face their next wave activist attacks.
Out from the shadows came two head-shaven men wearing pink shirts. One of them carries the rocket launcher used to destroy Becky's car, and the other totes a high-powered chaingun under his arm. Their leader is a really butch woman in a camouflaged military uniform armed with a M16 assault rifle.
"Let me guess," said Becky, "you're the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force."
"We're also part of the Pink Pistols," said one of the gay men.
"Yeah, yeah, another fringe pro-gun group."
"Long time no see, Becky Wolfe," said the butch woman.
"Rita Irene. Nice to see you--unfortunately."
"It's too bad you had to leave the NGLTF over a trivial issue."
"I still feel that 'lesbians' should be called tribades."
"We'll settle that dispute once we kill that girl."
Becky turns her head towards Ginger. "Okay, what did you do this time," she asked her.
"Aw, I only suggested that Ellen Degeneres and Anne Heche are a fake couple, and that Anne is only going out with Ellen just for the fame and fortune," rambled Ginger.
Becky does not believe her.
"Okay, I replaced the front page with a Photoshopped picture of a naked Ellen and Anne--as dickgirls."
"You'll pay for that wench!" growled Rita Irene. "Bruce!"
The one with the heavy chaingun, Bruce, moves forward and takes aim at Ginger and her protectors.
All of a sudden, Red appears from a blur and leaps onto the barrels of Bruce's chaingun. Bruce loses balance, and Red dives in kill him with one shot from her Derringer. As Bruce falls, Red quickly throws her spent Derringer straight into Rita's head. Red jumps down, wrings Rita's M16 assault rifle from her hands, and then whacks her with the butt of the weapon. As she falls, Red kills her by firing two quick shots to her chest.
Frightened by Red's precise kill, the gay man with the rocket launcher starts to run away. Red takes Rita's M16 and fires quick shots at his head and chest. Gay Rocketman falls down dead.
Ginger applauds, and then runs over to kick fallen Rita Irene and her cohort Bruce.
"Okay, Ginger," said Becky. "That really isn't necessary."
Ginger continues to repeatedly kick the bodies.
"They're dead already. We don't have time for this!"
"They blew up the blue Honda Civic Si sedan," noted Mira as she watches the burning car.
"And I was about to install nitros and fog headlights," Becky laments.
"We need to find a new car."
Becky and Mira turn their heads to see that Ginger is gone.
"Uh, where did she go?" Becky asked. She looks Red. "Red-chan, did you see where she went?"
Red shrugs her shoulders.
Then Ginger screeches a 1999 pumpkin-orange Volkswagen Beetle Turbo S before them. She had obviously broke in and hotwired the car.
"Get in!" she yelled.
Red, Mira, and HLS immediately cram themselves backseat of the Beetle.
"I hate pumpkin-orange," groans Becky.
Becky runs over and opens up the driver's side door.
"Move aside," she said. "I'm driving."
Becky attempts to push Ginger to the passenger seat, but she resists.
"No way!" snapped Ginger. "I found it first!"
"I'm a better driver!" snapped Becky.
"I've been driving since I got my first fake-ID at age 13!"
Becky punches Ginger in the cheek and flings her to the passenger seat. She then gets in the driver's seat and immediately drives off.
"Ow, you can't do that!" cried Ginger. "You're supposed to be my protection!"
"Calm down," said Becky. "You're not dead."
"Don't you have some mercenary rules that states that the protectee is not to be harmed in any way?"
Red and Mira began to recite, "The first rule of Assassin-Mercenary Methodology is to only kill those..."
"Not now, girls" interrupted Becky.
"Cunt," cursed Ginger.
"You're a real people person."
"You're talking to the site administrator of downwithpeople.net! A hacker forum for misanthropes and people pissed at the general populace."
"So what you do is hack into websites and deface their front page?"
"That and plucking social security numbers, credit card numbers and bank account numbers off the net."
"I can see why so many groups want your head."
"That doesn't explain why they know exactly where Ginger is," said Mira.
"You're right. Ginger, do you know of anyone who would snitch on you?"
"Let me think," said Ginger.
"Er, how about this question: Is there any group that you haven't pissed off?"
"Quite possibly the people who frequent the IRC chatroom in downwithpeople.net."
"I doubt it."
"Hey, my peeps respect the leetness of the Gingerbread Grrl."
"Whatever you say."
Ginger pokes her head at the back seat.
"Say, Red," started Ginger.
"Yes?" Red answered.
"Red-chan doesn't have any more weapons for you," said Becky. Of course, Red still has the M16 she pilfered from Rita Irene.
"I still have fifteen Derringers stocked under my hood."
"Enough to take out an army, I see," said Ginger.
Suddenly, Mira starts to wipe Ginger's bruised cheek with a damp cloth.
"What the?"
"I'm really sorry about Becky's aggressive behavior," said Mira, "but she knows what's best for you."
"This cloth feels warm," said Ginger.
Sunset arrives. Becky drives the girls to an old neighborhood in that is still occupied by a majority of whites. After winding through the suburban streets, the pumpkin-orange Beetle stops in front of Ginger's parents' house.
The girls and HLS step out of the Beetle. They start marching up the driveway while passing by three rolls of sun-baked newspapers. The lawn is starting to yellow-up, and the flowerbed by the front window is beginning to whither.
Ginger notices that Red's t-shirt reads "I'm an Angel, and I fuck yo' mama!"
"Cool shirt," Ginger said.
Red smiles and then reads Ginger's t-shirt, which reads "People Suck."
"What do people suck?" Red innocently asks.
"Oh, lots of things," replied Ginger, "like cunts, dicks, toes, toes with toenail fungus..."
Becky rings the doorbell of the one-story house. No one answers. Then she bangs on the door. Still, no one answers.
Suddenly, the front window shatters. Becky, Red, and Mira turn their faces towards Ginger, who had just thrown a rock and broke the window.
"What?" she said.
"It's dangerous to go through broken windows," Becky said. In one powerful kick, Becky breaks open the door.
Inside, the house is empty, dusty, and pretty dark. Becky walks inside and tries to flip the light switch. The light does not turn on.
"I'll check the circuit breakers!" announced Mira.
"I'll come with you!" said Red.
Mira and Red, followed by HLS, immediately head to the garage in order to fix the circuit breaker. Meanwhile, Becky heads to raid the refrigerator in the kitchen while Ginger plops down on the old couch facing the broken window.
Becky returns from the kitchen disappointed and sits on the small couch directly across from Ginger.
"What were you doing?" Ginger asked her.
"Raiding the fridge," replied Becky. "The beer's too warm."
"Don't bother. My parents are non-alcoholic drinkers."
"Your parents are whack."
"Tell-me about it. I mean, what kind parents have children when they're over fifty?"
"Only child?"
"Yes."
"It must be difficult for your mom to give birth to you."
"Actually she didn't. I am what you call a test-tube baby."
"Oh."
"More than likely I probably come from an egg of a crackhead prostitute and the sperm from a struggling college student attending Harvard. I never liked my old-fashioned parents, and I even hated them more when they told me of my true genesis."
A gunshot rings out in the garage, causing Ginger to quake in her seat.
"What was that?" she asked.
"Oh, that's just Red," answered Becky. "She's attempting to fix the circuit breaker with one of her Derringers."
"She's a strange little girl. How old is she?"
"Seventeen."
"Seventeen? No way. She's only one year younger than me and she still looks like a Lolita?"
"Yep."
"Jeez."
The lights flicker on. Ginger turns her head towards Becky and suddenly her eyes widen and her jaw drops. Becky notices through Ginger's expression that there's something behind her. Becky leaps off the couch and steps in front of Ginger in order to face the assailants with her sword drawn.
It turns out that her expectations are lowered. Though armed with an Uzi submachine gun each, the new group of three consists of a really skinny and nerdy Asian, a tall, lanky, freckled, and red-haired teen, and a husky pimple-faced kid with a faded and overused Anime shirt. All of them are dressed in black trench coats as if they think they are cool secret agents, but they look ridiculous.
"Let me guess," started Becky. "You're the Robotech fan club."
"No," answered the Asian kid.
"Okay, then you're Trekkies."
"Hell no," replied the tall redhead.
"Um, Britney Spears fans?"
"Of course not!" snapped the husky kid.
"Then what are you guys?"
"Ask the Gingerbread Grrl over there."
Becky turns her head and sees Ginger once again cowering behind her back.
"I never met these geeks!" cried Ginger.
"Does the name GrandLancer666 ring a bell?"
"You're GrandLancer666? Then the rest of you must be..."
The three nerds begin to strike flashy and ridiculous pre-fighting poses.
"KenshinSaito!" cried the Asian kid.
"6414_PHR33X0R[xi]!" cried the tall redhead.
"And finally, GrandLancer666!" cried the husky kid.
"Why do you always have to be the leader?" complained KenshinSaito.
"Because!"
"Becky, put them out of their misery!" cried Ginger.
"I gotta know what did you do to piss them off."
"We're frequent visitors of the downwithpeople.net IRC chatroom," said 6414_PHR33X0R.
"The Gingerbread Grrl promised all of us dates if we hacked into the Social Security Administration," added KenshinSaito.
"But after we gave her the data, she just ratted us out!" added GrandLancer666.
"You're just angry 'cause you couldn't get some," said Ginger.
"That too!" cried the nerds in unison.
"Now kill them!" Ginger commanded.
"You're serious?"
"Of course I am! I'd rather be lesbian pedophile than go out with these losers!"
Becky looks back the three geeks, and notices that their palms are sweaty, their hands are shaking, and their heart beating rapidly with anxiety. She steps forward.
"Don't come any closer!" cried GrandLancer666. "We've got guns!"
"Really?"
Becky sheathes her sword like a samurai.
"First off," started Becky. "You three aren't expert shooters. You're too green."
Becky takes one more step forward.
"Second," she continued as she wrings an Uzi submachine gun off the nervous Kenshin Saito, "these Uzis are replicas."
Becky hits KenshinSaito in the head with his own gun. He then grabs his head and starts spewing "ouch" in Japanese. Then in one roundhouse kick, Becky knocks off the guns off of 6414_PHR33X0R and GrandLancer666. The three nerds start step back in fear.
"Third, you are about to piss in your pants."
Becky kicks all three of them in the crotch. The boys start clutch their bruised manhood and immediately pee in their pants. Their eyes start welling with tears.
"I don't know who sent you here, but turn around and get the fuck out of here," said Becky.
They hesitate.
"Get out now!"
The three boys run away by going through the broken front window from which they came from. Ginger steps in front of Becky and starts to throw books, cups, and other debris at them.
"You'd better run you fucking geeks!" Ginger heckled.
"You're all bark and no bite," Becky noted.
"Ha! No one can beat the great Becky Wolfe!"
"Did you hear what I just said?"
Ginger starts to imitate Becky by acting out a Bruce Lee impression. Little does she know that she is directly in the deadly crosshairs of a sniper's scope.
Red, Mira, and HLS finally come out of the garage door and reenter the living room.
"Sorry," said Mira, "the garage was too dark and we had to stumble our way out."
Red and HLS join up with an exuberant Ginger in her personal celebration. Now all three are in the crosshairs of the sniper scope.
Red suddenly feels a chill on her back. HLS stops panting and starts growling at something past the broken window.
"Hey, Red-chan," Becky said. "Is something wrong?"
Becky starts to shake Red out of the frozen state. At that moment, the sniper puts away his/her rifle down.
HLS stops growling.
"Are you doin' all right Red-chan?" Becky asked.
"Oh, I'm fine Grandma!" smiled Red.
"With the all the noise we caused," Mira said, "shouldn't Ginger's parents be awake?"
"Oh yeah," said Becky. "I'll search the kitchen while the rest of you search the rest of the house."
"I've told you, there's no alcoholic beer," noted Ginger.
"I know, but there might be Cornbread stashed around there."
"Some protection you are."
It so happens that the house has only three bedrooms and two bathrooms. The search is quick, and the girls turn up nothing--not even cornbread. However, Ginger turns up with her parents' secret savings.
The girls, minus Mira, join up at the living room.
"Ginger's parents aren't here," Red concluded.
"They must be away somewhere," added Becky.
Mira walks in bearing a tri-folded document bearing Ginger's full name. "I found this," she said.
"Oh, gimmie!" Ginger cried as she snatches the document. She rips it open, thinking that it might be another stock holding or at least a will. After quickly reading it, her face and arms go limp. Then she starts frowning.
"Goddamn geezers," cried Ginger. "Didn't leave me nuthin'!"
After throwing the document to the floor, she immediately covers her face runs to her old room. Mira picks up the document and quickly skims through it. Then she hands it over to
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