Alot had happened in the span of a few months. Many people knew Jalie as a hardcore raging bitch. And they'd be right. But her nature was being tested by a series of events beyond her control. Control of an entire company had been dropped onto her and Seth's shoulders - a company packed with middle school drop-outs and high maintenance princesses. Needless to say, this didn't suit Jalie's nature. After a fiasco with the headquarters, she took some time back at home. For a while, the couple had been living in her uncle's mountain-side mansion while he was otherwise engaged. In prison. Upon his release, however, the two found themselves house-hunting yet again.

The return of RWA was a welcome event to both of them. Each held a solid fondness for the promotion for giving them their start - and not to mention being fun as hell. Already the roster was filling up. Several of the veterans had made their way back as well. Shawn Walsh was heading things, which was fine by the Thomas'. They'd made their reconciliations some time ago. Though, expectedly, Shawn and Seth continued to share a competitive spirit with one another. Nathan Gust was another returnee and welcome addition in their eyes. Jalie felt a particular sense of kindred with the man - both of them being proud pirates. The ever-lovable Andrew Foley was back with an understated and likeable vengeance as usual. Seth Dryden had joined the ranks as well, a man with whom Jalie had feuded, though never really disliked. To some, the level of competition in RWA's ranks was something to aspire to and to derive inspiration from. For Jalie, however, it was home. She had no aspirations of dreams of glory. Her reputation was already solidified. She'd never been one for records or title-holding in the first place. Championships were equal to responsibility. Needless to say, Jalie and responsibility have been, and will always be, mortal enemies.

moving in
2:34 P.M.
yucca valley, california

"We couldn't believe it, you know, both these residents moving out at the same time. They packed up and took off within three days of eachother. Something sure lit a fire underneath them. I assure you though, they're two fantastic homes. Spacious but still cozy, you know. You've even got the picket fence. It's the last area around here that's not a sub-division. The neighbors are all a little quirky. But you seem to be a... Well... What's the phrase, now? Alternative lifestyle, yes, that's it... Hm."

The real estate woman was eyeing Seth, Jalie, and Hobo Nick. The three of them were leaning against the back of a U-Haul truck; Jalie with a beer in hand and Nick with his hand down the front of his tightie whities. She was on her last visit to them to make sure they were getting along alright with the move-in process. The deal was done - papers signed. The original owners had no intentions of leaving, but Jalie (along with the proper threatening use of a scalpel) had her ways of persuasion. It wasn't anything fancy. A two story blue house with white trim - probably built in mid-seventies. It had a medium-sized front porch and a fenced front yard. Another house, directly next door, was built along the same lines, though it was white with blue trim. This house belonged to Cody Carson and Carmen Dumas, though they were unaware of it so far.

In the driveway of the blue house sat Jalie's aged and battered black 1971 El Camino. Beside it was Seth's black Cadillac Escalade, making a unique contrast. The realtor headed back to her car, giving them a final farewell and wishing them luck. Hobo Nick gave her a seductive wink and then unlatched the door to the truck, sliding it upward. Jalie's brother, Jay, stumbled out from the trailer looking dazed.

"Hold onto the couch? Hold onto the couch?! That goddamn thing fucking crushed me! And why the hell was there a five pound bag of glitter in your dresser drawer?"

He shook his head vigorously and sparkles went cascading to the ground. Jalie grinned.

"Hey, now all you need is a stripper name!" She proclaimed.

Jay frowned and went to object but Hobo Nick interrupted.

"I agree. In fact, I suggest Sassy. It's cute, yet sensual at the same time."

Jay's retort was drowned out by the arrival of another moving truck. It pulled into the driveway nextdoor and Cody Carson climbed out of the drivers side. He darted around the front of the truck and opened the passengers side. He helped Carmen step out, then climbed in to hand her down the car seat containing their daughter. Carmen set her down in the grass and unbuckled her, picking her up gently as Jalie rushed over to her. Carmen looked tired, pale, and exhausted - but genuinely happy.

"I can't believe you guys did this. It's like a dream come true." said Carmen, handing little Alexandria into Jalie's waiting arms.

"What? You think i'd honestly let you guys live any further than next door? Alex is gonna grow up with her aunt's infulence. I'll teach her everything I know." Jalie smiled.

"Fantastic. She'll be blowing up busses as soon as she's strong enough to strike a match." Cody said with a smirk. Jalie nodded proudly. Seth approached Cody and the two of them threw open the door of the other U-Haul. There was a couch, a mattress, and a bassinet for the baby. Seth looked at Cody, confused.

"Did that really neccessitate renting the entire truck?"

"No, I guess not. But it's our first and last big move - I wanted to do it right." Carson replied firmly. He looked at Seth with a gleam in his eyes, daring him to make fun of him. Seth shook his head with a grin. Jay bounded over, glittered and brimming with excitement.

"I wanna help! What can I do? I can lift. I've been working on the guns."

He lifted his right arm to offer proof. Neither Seth nor Cody could tell if he was flexing or not. His arms were skinny as ever. Seth climbed into the truck and started sliding out the sofa.

"Get under this, man. Take the other end. And remember, never lift with your knees. Lift with your back - and if possible, your neck." ordered Seth.

Jay scrambled to do as he was told and put his back to the end of the couch, leaning forward so that it rested on his shoulders and the back of his neck. Seth picked up the other end and started walking it forward. Carmen looked over from where she and Jalie were talking and her jaw dropped.

"Hey! Stop it right now! Quit!"

Seth shrugged and dropped his end of the couch. It landed on top of Jay and squished him, face-down on the cobblestone walk. As he went down he let out a quick, feminine shriek of horror - and then was silent. Seth, Cody, and Jalie were all laughing as Carmen rushed over to him. Jalie pointed out the scene to little Alexandria, who smiled appreciatively though she had no fucking clue as to what was going on. Still chuckling, Cody lifted up one end of the couch so that Carmen could get to her brother. She examined him for a moment, steadily growing more frantic. Suddenly she let out a low cry.

"Oh, my god... No... Jalie!"

Jalie wandered over, Alex squirming in her arms to find a more comfortable position. She stood behind Carmen and looked down at Jay as a little pool of blood began to blossom from under his face.

"I th-think he's dead..." Carmen trailed off, tears streaming down her face. Jalie frowned and nudged Jay's leg with the toe of her boot.

"I'll be damned. I think you're right." she said.

Cody and Seth looked to eachother in shock, their faces stark white.

{-INTERMISSION-}

Jalie, Seth, Cody and Carmen sat in the living room of the Thomas' partially furnished home. Seth was leaning back in a vinyl lawn chair, a bottle of Molson Canadian in his hand, staring blankly at the wall. Cody was leaning forward as he sat on the couch with his head in his hands. Carmen leaned against him, crying softly. Jalie, however, was on the floor with the baby. She had a stuffed lion in her hand and was telling Alex a delightful story about an African lion who ravaged an English camp and slaughtered everyone inhabiting it, all in excellent detail. Carmen appeared to distressed to object.

A crash at the front door startled them all out of their reverie. Jay came stumbling into the room, his nose busted and still bleeding freely. His face was white from loss of blood and he looked positively thrilled.

"You guys! I think I just saw GOD!" he exclaimed.

Carmen gave a cry of relief and ran to him, hugging him fiercely and nearly knocking him over. Seth and Cody looked immensely relieved. Cody for the fact that he had not killed a man, and Seth for the fact that he wouldn't have to deal with any more pesky police interrogation. Jalie was still coolly unconcerned, now detailing the lion's adventure in picking the British bones from between his teeth. Carmen ran to fetch a towel and some ice. Jay dropped onto the couch beside Cody with a grin. Cody looked extremely happy to see him without a toe tag.

"So what was god like, man?" asked Cody.

"I dunno, man. I could barely see her through all the pot smoke." Jay replied. He was staring at his hands as though he'd never quite seen anything like them before. Carmen came bustling back in and handed Jay an ice pack to hold on his head. She started dabbing at his nose with the towel as he winced. Seth downed the last of his beer and stood up to stretch, catching Cody's eye as the two of them shared a moment of relief. Carmen finally caught on to the contents of the naptime story Jalie was expressing and shot her a glare.

"Enough blood and gore, Lielee. Tell her something happy."

"Who says blood and gore isn't happy? Sometimes bitches deserve it." Jalie shot back. The baby cooed, making Jalie smile. "See? She agrees."

Carmen turned a pleading eye to Cody.

"Make her stop, will you? Our daughter's gonna be warped before we have the chance to screw her up ourselves."

Cody looked positively appalled at the idea of making Jalie stop doing anything that she wanted to do. Muttering something about heating up a bottle, Carson disappeared across the room and turned right past the partial wall that separated the living room from the kitchen. There were no bottles to heat up. Alex was breast-fed. Cody realized this and came back out. From his left, Jalie and Carmen were staring at him with amused expressions. There was a hallway to his right; he headed down it and went to turn into the bathroom, but Seth's voice rang out from the inside.

"Occupado, senor!"

Cody wheeled around and faced the master bedroom. He had no interest in going in there. Beside the bathroom was a door leading to the spare bedroom. He went inside, shutting the door behind him. After this rat's maze, focus switched back to Jalie and her sister. Carmen was still clearing up the mess of Jay's face while he whimpered quietly. Suddenly, Cody came storming back down the hall, headed straight for them. He dropped onto floor on the other side of the baby and looked at Jalie.

"Do you realize Nick has an alchemical lab in your spare bedroom?"

Jalie nodded and gave him a look as if to say, 'Who doesn't?'

Noticing the shocked look on Carmen's face, Jalie spoke. "Don't worry. There's a baby lock on the door. And it's fume-proofed. Nick decided to strip the squares off of a chess board using chemicals one day and ever since he's had a fondness for alchemical science. And he did mention something about Nicholas Flamel's theory of immortality. Quite interesting, really."

While this didn't calm their fears entirely, they were satisfied. For some reason un-beknownst to even them, they trusted Jalie completely. Carmen smiled down at her daughter and her sister.

"I think you and Seth are gonna be wonderful god-parents. She's already so attached to you, and Seth is so sweet."

Cody looked like he disagreed with the last part of that, but held his tongue.

"I know. She's gonna be spoiled. Especially by her Uncle Seth. He can actually be quite the charmer." said Jalie.

From down the hall, Seth's voice rang out from inside the bathroom.

"Somebody bring me a goddamn popsicle!"

{-&discuss-}

Here I go again on my own... Goin' down the only road I've ever known... Like a drifter I was born to walk alone, bown bown... And I've made up my mind. I ain't wastin' no more time. Here I go agaaaaaaiiiiiiinnnnn....

House Show, February Seventh... RWA's first show back in what, three years? Damn. It's been a while. Well I went through a rough patch. Went through a few more therapists, none of which knew what the fuck they were talking about, naturally. I say we leave the psychotropic warfare to those of us that have the required equipment. Yeah, motherfucker.

Let's start a fire up in this bitch. Or not, due to current insurance regulations and necessary practices required by the policy. Whatever the case, we are still gonna have one hell of a time. I see a few familiar faces, no one that particularly sways me in one way or the other. You might say I've adopted an attitude of supreme neutrality. Not in the 'Independent Party, Ralph Nader' sense, but in more of a, "I don't give a shit... I definitely might have to make a decision... I've made up my mind, and the answer is maybe' type way.

A piss-off to some. But since when is that new? Trademark. I should trademark that. Is that possible? To put a patent on a mood or an opinion? If so i'm trademarking "uncomfortable" and "slightly tainted". Oh, and "hungry", too, because then I might get a share off Snicker's commercials. Disagree? Eh? Then go trademark your own mood, slutbag.

Now to one of the main topics of our discussion. We have an addict, and a drunk who refers to himself in the third person. Or, perhaps he only refers to himself in the third person when he's drunk? And if so, when will we ever be able to tell the difference?

Johnny and Brett Lukas. Two rich, pampered socialites with no understanding of reality whatsoever. Put them in a housing project and feed them lettuce sandwiches. That should make 'em crack. They of course think people like myself are the mud of the population. Dirty illegal immigrants. But hey, look at it this way... They owe us. If we stopped working and all left to go back to Mexico, they would have no shoes, no valets, no house-keepers, no gardeners, no gas-pumpers, no waiters, and no fresh produce.

Ain't that a bitch.

I say, you two wonder bread neanderthals wouldn't know reality if it hit you in the nutsac. You don't know the meaning of fighting. Real fighting. Fighting to eat, to live, to scrape by. For most people, every day is a fight. How the fuck am I supposed to be intimidated by you two dumbasses? I'll toss you in a fuckin' jump in San Jose and see how clean you come out. Clearly, you two can't face life without your golden inheritance making a nice little buoy for you. Did you honestly think you could toss with people that really know pain? That know life, and suffering, and hunger? Of course not. Bet you hired the most expensive trainers. I'll bet you were taught by some celebrity. Like it matters, right? Sure, you probably have a decent repertoire. But when you're faced with two people who have fought, killed, bled, and sweat... Your money doesn't matter any more. Your money might buy you a college education, it'll buy you the right trainers and the right gear... But one thing it can't do, is buy you a victory.

Pure, unassuming ability. Energy. Roughneck, ravaging, hardcore, high-flying, blood spilling, psychotropic warfare, baby.

Bring your wallet if you like. But you can't buy luck, either.