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Chapter 20: "Your Girlfriend Is A Dog?"

“There are two very attractive women here to see you, Lopez,” the sergeant of detectives, Sam Carrasco, said, craning his head over the side of Lopez's cubicle. “Say their names are Becca and Veronica.”

Lopez motioned in the affirmative, and about two minutes later came the two women escorted to his office by one of the front desk clerks. He waited for them to speak first, which they did, becomingly.

“We read it on the winds that you are headed north to fight the furry monsters in the name of natural mansport and universal moral duty,” Becca said, smiling at him. In his previous dealings with these girls, Veronica did most of the talking. And this was not the only thing different about them now. He looked at them both. Bright eyed, firm-willed, fit, thick-skinned roller derbiers. Their hair was also dyed a different color than when he last met with them. Yet even more change to them there was, soon to avail itself.

“We can help you find them. We can help you catch and kill them,” Becca continued.

“OK. I fully welcome that,” the detective answered. “But by the way, you guys do know that you and your whole team—and the Flagstaff team—are currently considered by your hometown blue and brown to be missing persons, don't you?”

“Well, yes—and that civil status is a result of why we happen to know so much about the fewolves,” she replied. “Look at me, Joe.” He looked at her, and she met his eyes, smiled, and stuck out her tounge with a rapid licking motion, during which instant her face flushed and her hair swirled and lit up like fiber optic wire, in every color imaginable. She was pulsing. He stared, rapt, trapped in her gaze. Her eyes glowed first ember orange, then flashed bright green, then high blue, and he was frozen somehow. Lopez couldn't move his muscles, and he couldn't avert or close his eyes, or squirm, or breathe. Then he felt the glow of Veronica lighting up as well in his peripheral vision; then, suddently he could move again. They both simmered down, back to a ruddy normal, smiling at Lopez.

“Don't worry, good buddy. We're of the good wolves,” They both put a warm hand on him, and smiled reassuringly. Joe was physically thrilled, and his hair stood on end, the whole room was charged with static electricity, but he could tell they were telling the truth about their benevolence. He could feel it—and their energy was positive. It became clear to him what earlier he couldn't put his finger on—now that they had shown themselves, although they were "back to normal," he realized he could still see their new, accentuated lion-like features, subtle at the threshold of physical observation, now that he knew what to look for. A certain glow, like a coat of pure essence or energy rather than a coat of fur.

“Furthermore, Detective Lopez, we are somewhat numerous. All our Roller teammates are of the kind that you see before you. And all of the Flagstaff team,” Veronica said, finally speaking up. “On the other hand, the more base, murderous, hairy things your peers have been dealing with out here, as far as we know, cannot talk, do not glow, and are essentially just violent, murderous, hungry ghosts. They are easily drawn offsides by perceived opportunities to kill or harm, therefore, you will see that to be a good way to bait them. Still, they do travel relatively quickly, and stealthily. They're empty but they're fast and mean so be careful.”

Becca interjected: “And, as far as we can sense, the base and filthy sister bitches are only on the loose out west. So far. We perceive them to be traveling in and about the cities where they attacked the various nightclubs of the original stripper murders. We know all of the Chino girls are of the darker, lesser stripe. And some of the Davey Jones Lickers are of our lighter lot.”

“Thompson up there says he found two dead Bloody Rollers at sea,” Lopez said. “What of them?”

“Dusty and Rainy Roller. Ours, we've already dispatched some of our assets to fetch and heal their bodies,” Veronica answered. “You can meet them up there this weekend.” Again she smiled at the detective.

After they left, the sergeant of detectives walked over to Lopez's cubicle: “Count me in for the road trip,” he said, still wide eyed himself.
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