I stretched out my silky pale wings and let them fondle the creamy air above Salt Lake. All i could think of was that poor black headed little boy and how he must be terrified with those inbred retarded zealots.
VTTRAACHHOOOWKKK
Joe screamed as the ground came rushing for him.
I could only get a handle on one broken wing before he smashed into the tarmack.
Freakin Saints and their anti aircraft guns, have pissed me off. I pulled the chalk from my vest and started writing the Goesha templets on his chest when we flew out of reality and were surrounded by armed gaurds in flack vests.
“Saints?”
“Hopi.”
“Oh alchemist, What now?”
A wonderfully dressed spidle of a man glided into view saying, “I believe thanks are in order. It was bad enough Agent Loni Veritas, you lost the Buddha child, and then get captured by those Mormons.”
" It still looks like we’re captured."
“Stand down men, she is an ally.” The scarecrow ordered the armor clad native americans.