The Rabbi’s Daughter …dont shoot!
1st Draft w/typos by BB. of bbCENTURIES
The Rabbi's Daughter ...dont shoot!
Hands on top of your head, he yelp! In so doing she inadvertently had pulled back her hair out of her face. WAIT, do I know you, the rough man arrogantly and aggressively croaked with bad breath? She hoped that he was too poor to have any bullets in his weapon. Her mind rushed? This was the same known paranoid schizophrenic who’s vicious off-leash attack-dog trying to bite her beastly mammoth monster tires on her 1.5 ton big truck, about 2yrs back, she ran over, like, a flat-cat on hard packed dirt, oops, she remembered.
In milliseconds her mind rushed quick inside for resolve. JUST GREAT, she said inside, about ready to get shot by a paranoid weirdo-freak in bad, dirty, smelly ragged fashion robe design pointing a crapy AK-47 at about her perfect female L-bewb, she figured, in the middle of nowhere, her brain flashed in self-talk! She instantly sized-up the immediate threat at bay, the AK-47 pointing at her woman-guns. She inherently glanced stealthily at his trigger-finger with her trained martial-arts peripheral vision.
The overpaid moron in the desert index-finger was unsteadily slipping about on the trigger with the safety switch set to the off ready to fire position and his hands were sweating, and shaking, holding wide wild crazed totally paranoid eyes about ready to pee himself or pull the trigger and run away was a 50/50 gamble. In still silence he greatly rushed her in expression for her to answer with an immediate response! If facial expressions could kill, she was already dead.
The overpaid moron in the desert index-finger was unsteadily slipping about on the trigger with the safety switch set to the off ready to fire position and his hands were sweating, and shaking, holding wide wild crazed totally paranoid eyes about ready to pee himself or pull the trigger and run away was a 50/50 gamble. In still silence he greatly rushed her in expression for her to answer with an immediate response! If facial expressions could kill, she was already dead.
She took a slow deep breath wearing, a, one is no threat face, as if telepathically speaking to a nasty, abused since birth, mentally unbalanced, small, shaky and unsure volatile psst-ed-off black-bear w/an only baby cub with something to prove. He clearly had an antifeminist chip on his shoulder bigger than the NYC shiny gold-plated Chrysler Building, and crueler than an 'Arbuckle and Rapp' murderous old-school Hollywood affair, standing unstable and 1/2 intoxicated a mere 6-feet in front of her. And he wasn’t wearing a COVID-19 mask type fellow. She giggled a quick giggle inside holding her Im Jesus’s Daughter Face and demeanor while hoping the mental-fellow with a gun hadn’t noticed her beautiful light cobalt-blue one striped white matching fine linen scarf with a godly scent of fresh life-giving organically perfumed minerals from the Dead Sea maintaining her beauty for life.
She wasn't particularly religious she merely liked the colour light-cobalt blue. Organized religions were in conflict w/her believes and studies of Ancient-Text that all organized religions are derived from via twisted man-god interpretations, mainly as Eve, not Adam, was the 1st Sinner on earth. She lol a bit at the passing thought at gunpoint in the desert alone. The crazed near one-eyed slouch border guard cocked his head to her odd lil girl giggle slip at shaky gunpoint, not understanding at all the moment making him even more paranoid if that's even possible. He had the weapon but he clearly did not feel in control of this woman, so he spit then stomped his foot attempting to intimidate and shock that fell flat and unnoticed as his brain.
She wasn't particularly religious she merely liked the colour light-cobalt blue. Organized religions were in conflict w/her believes and studies of Ancient-Text that all organized religions are derived from via twisted man-god interpretations, mainly as Eve, not Adam, was the 1st Sinner on earth. She lol a bit at the passing thought at gunpoint in the desert alone. The crazed near one-eyed slouch border guard cocked his head to her odd lil girl giggle slip at shaky gunpoint, not understanding at all the moment making him even more paranoid if that's even possible. He had the weapon but he clearly did not feel in control of this woman, so he spit then stomped his foot attempting to intimidate and shock that fell flat and unnoticed as his brain.
She bit her to-long-for lip just a bit before whispering merely loud enough as if only her and angels could hear, …dont shoot, she whispered w/out near moving her to-die-for mouth with angelic face, and everything, that could make a gay Pope straight, very straight and upright, erect, and everything to her everything. She moved men, it seemed, down there, historically.
This psycho w/an assault riffle was getting a forced at gunpoint a full-on frontal view of pure angelic gorgeous in live female form unmatched in the beautiful rising desert morning sun. She was thinking, was this going to be an attempted rape? But she knew he was too crazy to be affected by her unstoppable female power in the psychical. She was gonna-have to use her genius on this one, if that’s even possible with insane ppl, she breathed deeper. Her millisecond multifunctional computer brain quickly pondered, quick-scanning her Harvard, Yale and Rice studies of the A-Typical dangerous personality disorders and how to defuse them. 
This holds true though her massive silk heavy lioness like long mane felt like it was on fire at times in the merciless desert sun, she thought, now looking directly at the barrel of the shaking, shaky AK-47 knock-off', clearly from China, high powered rifle mussel still pointing within the general area of her alluring innocent L-bewb fitted snuggly with fine soft form fitting linen who’s nipple had quickly attended the affair from H and had grown hard as a rock, and beautifully pronounced, pointedly, all-eyes-front, figuratively speaking, mostly.
With hands atop her goddess head, she nicknamed it, it was bewb-time bc there was no hiding those bouncy delightful fun-loving puppies up front, hands on head. Her frontal position showed slow athletic methodical heaving of perfect even gorgeous woman bewbs rising and falling with a lil alluring jiggle w/her every strong controlled heartbeat, bump, bump, bump, they teased wiggling a bit in mid-air with every breathe and heartbeat, wiggle-wiggle, wiggle-wiggle, they teased some more for all of creation to be detracted via such alluring jewels of coveted female parts.
The armed ghastly rude uncalled-for gunman at arms ready as if the Rabbi's daughter were any threat to anyone or anything, mostly, was not detracted by her inherent no pretense blinding female form and charisma bc he was crazy. Besides, the Rabbi's daughter is UNTOUCHABLE, she remembered, ...we'll see she thought?
The armed ghastly rude uncalled-for gunman at arms ready as if the Rabbi's daughter were any threat to anyone or anything, mostly, was not detracted by her inherent no pretense blinding female form and charisma bc he was crazy. Besides, the Rabbi's daughter is UNTOUCHABLE, she remembered, ...we'll see she thought?
Any normal man with a weapon pointed at her perfect, and perfectly innocent, L-bewb, matching her right, would have gone down on one knee immediately, saying, I am unworthy, pls dont kill me your highness with those who adore cobalt-blue stripped fine linen scarfs covering perfect woman-guns, or not, historically, figuratively speaking, mostly. This was one of those moments in time when she really wished that she had no bewbs at all especially healthy sized ones like her's, oh, and when working on her truck in hard to get to places with those things flopping about in the way laying on a hot alternator, completely useless unless trying to breastfeed a hot to the touch mechanical truck part.
And there was the time, her brain flashed at odd moments when Ironman-stressed' towards panic-attack, when she gave herself a 2nd-degree burn on her R-nipple when checking her oil-stick topless in 110-degree sizzling desert heatwave. But it was not nearly as sizzling as when that hot dripped oil smoked her R-nipple in a second POOF. There were no tweezers needed on that female body part for at least a month, she weirdly pondered on staring at that crapy knock-off' AK-47 threatening her L-bewb rn. She had never smelt smoked female nipple before until about 5-months ago dancing about in the desert alone like a monkey-on-a-string, screaming, HOT NIPPLE HOT NIPPLE while tossing the swollen cherry-red thing with hard ice! HOT NIPPLE SHE SCREAMED, as the lone desert sang faintly back to her as any empathetic trusted undying always loyal friend supporting her every cause and dream in life might when called for, …hot nipple, …hot nipple, ...hot nipple, the desert agreed echoing her commands and heart-felt thought to all of monkey-world around her!
Of course, however, the rough ruin of poverty wild guard didn’t notice, but with infuriating lost thoughts of his fav dead as a flat-cat attack-dog that she quashed with her burnt-Indian-red big truck, like, a very flat fur-smoothy with exposed sausage-links eaten by skunks. She intermittently glanced directly into the would-be shooter’s nasty eyes of unpredictability. They were totally ugly, like, dead fish-eyes that spoke nothing of anything of intend as to what he was about to do with that AK-47 pointed at one of her woman-guns that were admired, respected and loved by all, and totally innocent, mostly. His vibie-vibe was like a dead-eyed blind barracuda with snapping razor teeth within a situation escalating towards insanely out of control with mental cases under the influence with knock-off' AK-47's employed as monkey-world border guards in charge.
Even her wounded R-nipple was in complete socially acceptable rightful deviance, matching her left, at full nipple attention at weird moments with a brain of their own in the impromptu volatile at best hot desert border crossing in nowhere. She instantly envisioned herself diving under her burnt-Indian-red big truck where she had a 32-cal female two-shot derringer hidden under the big truck’s undercarriage where she sometimes had lunch and a quick cat-nap in shadeless deserts, as a last resort to this latest crisis at hand. She was an expert markswoman who never missed, ever, and quicker than a replica of Bruce Lee on steroids when in fight or flight mode.
She had never shot nor killed anyone, nor did she have any future intentions of doing so unless murderous rapists. But if this was attempting to become yet another hushed and silently sanctioned murderous rape scenario of women and girls at yet another out-of-the-way border crossings then she was going out fighting until death. She wondered if the three fools before her rn knew that? After all, she is the Rabbi’s daughter, untouchable, and not knowing the concept of capitulation but always forward.
Historically, few knowingly would intentionally pay the price in time and effort to try and impede her path hoping to stand their ground against her passing, and going wherever she chooses, whenever her own choosing, the end. She was very determined, brave and did not intimidate easily though her presence was certainly easy on the eye, she however was not, easy one means, she reminded herself in self-talk as the barrel of his weapon stayed pointed right at her the whole time.
Historically, few knowingly would intentionally pay the price in time and effort to try and impede her path hoping to stand their ground against her passing, and going wherever she chooses, whenever her own choosing, the end. She was very determined, brave and did not intimidate easily though her presence was certainly easy on the eye, she however was not, easy one means, she reminded herself in self-talk as the barrel of his weapon stayed pointed right at her the whole time.
Staring at the AK-47 knock-off' she remembered that she loved her sisters and whole fam but it was clear early on that it was not reciprocated. This gave new meaning to her regarding "...your own family will be one's enemies". At least they didn't point assault riffles at her, mostly, though mean spirited minds can do great damage if one's heart is not guarded, she thought, hoping that the gun-toting man-guard wouldn't accidentally pull that trigger by stupid moron mistake in the ever-growing hot sun never to at least say goodbye to anyone, one last time.
Her lose form fitting gorgeous near see-threw soft flowing long-sleeve white linen top wonderfully revealed perfect formed strong female arms gradually locking into a V-shape firm muscle upper torso. Her fine soft to the touch linen hung lovingly amongst ample god-saving mounds of a perfect set of same sized and perfectly formed healthy woman-guns, and w/a head to match that of a living female goddess of love, and danger. The Rabbi's daughter was a Solomon's Song, a heavy thing to manage, she thought and now this.
THE RABBI’S DAUGHTER loudly rang out in the tiny waiting to
happen would-be 'O.K. Corral' area, following her whipped whispered near audible comment, of, ‘…dont shoot’. At the same time merely to her immediate close right an officer in real uniform had just then rushed in waving business-papers, shouting, THE RABBI'S DAUGHTER at the frenzied violent bum of a broke low-paid so-called border guard in the middle of bum-friggin-jesus-nowhere!
BAM the flash of the crapy AK-47 knock-off' did have a least one bullet after all bc she saw it in slow motion coming right at her. Yep, just as she had figured, straight at her perfect innocent L-bewb trailing hot smoke and fire, ....'woahwa like slow-mo MATRIX', her clear calm and at ease mind flashed, that's so cool!
THE RABBI’S DAUGHTER loudly rang out in the tiny waiting to
happen would-be 'O.K. Corral' area, following her whipped whispered near audible comment, of, ‘…dont shoot’. At the same time merely to her immediate close right an officer in real uniform had just then rushed in waving business-papers, shouting, THE RABBI'S DAUGHTER at the frenzied violent bum of a broke low-paid so-called border guard in the middle of bum-friggin-jesus-nowhere! BAM the flash of the crapy AK-47 knock-off' did have a least one bullet after all bc she saw it in slow motion coming right at her. Yep, just as she had figured, straight at her perfect innocent L-bewb trailing hot smoke and fire, ....'woahwa like slow-mo MATRIX', her clear calm and at ease mind flashed, that's so cool!
She lay there, thinking, was that dirt in her mouth, she pondered quickly inside? And she must be on the ground. All she could think of, was, woahwa those are really shiny black combat-boots one can see one’s lips in them. Staring at some guy’s boots she lay there pretending to be unconscious, she guessed, bc she really didn’t know at that moment even why she was on the ground. A choir of voices n her head consisting of Jonny Depp, Mads Mikkelsen, Brad Pitt and DiCaprio sang softly above her repeating, looping statement in her head, Woahwa those ARE really shiny combat-boots they swooned in fitting monotone and harmony, ‘those are really shiny combat-boots’. …the story begins
The Rabbi’s Daughter …dont shoot!
She had a really big truck. Not really, she near whispered out loud inside, confidently glancing the burnt-Indian-red non-gloss painted hood custom paint-job that made her big truck near invisible in the desert especially when covered w/snipper netting. She had on many occasions slept upon the hood of her big truck comfortably enough under the stars, miles above the ground, with monster desert terrain tires more than 1/2 her size in height. She liked her big truck a lot. Some woman had houseplants or gardens, or house-pets and she had her RAD burnt-Indian-red big truck.
Her ton and a half pickup truck was huge but compared to the two ton it seemed compact and sporty in comparison bc it was, in comparison. Her all-drive limited edition MACH-5 turbo Venger with super-turbo 4-Quad inline fuel-injectors could pull a medium size house right off its foundation bc she had. And her big truck’s granny-gear could easily take a near 45-degree incline and demolish any normal size vehicle with less than an almost visible dent, bc she had done that too.
Drone Vulture Hotdogs
Her most socially acceptable and nice enough sisters hardly knew her name, too busy jostling for the biggest piece of attention, love and the last slice of NYC cheesecake. She however and fortunately or unfortunately held unspoken moniker of angelic, smashing her overly jealous lower IQ sisters’ beauty social monikers. And they all inherently knew it amongst themselves but refused to say it out loud. Unclothed and seldom seen by even a few when she went center-stage none could stand equal beside her female beauty and pure persona.
All of her sisters would instantly stop speaking whenever she entered a room with darting pretty eyes in total silence as she would gladly pass through, finding her own perfect lounging spot for angelic Loners, whispering, “…who is she that can stand before jealousy”? She moaned a lil out loud, like, a loved for all the wrong reasons heart-felt DiCaprio with an eighty pound frozen bear rug on her back?
Close but no cigar Mr. Trouble-Making Vulture Thingy, she mocked princely in rightly defiance. Next time call grubhub.com food delivery it may be a lil safer if one doesn’t get a Ted Bundy delivery guy, she laughed a laugh. Blasted hotdogs, she said out loud again, walking away to gather up spent pieces of blown drone evidence.
Her faint comments in the distance trailed behind her as she slowly disappears in small dust cloud about her underfoot. Damn hotdogs was heard out loud as she got smaller walking way off into the desert alone, mostly. A near mumbling was auditable in the moment at hand, a walking invisible determined and good-hearted DIVERGENT female dust cloud, …’damn hotdogs, bloody vultures, friggin-drones', she went on, ...oh and sorry for the vile language, she said, it was an emergency’.
Her soft tones were barely heard in the desert, alone, in near total invisibility in her walking about dust cloud upon a mammoth desert floor, well, except for one very dead drone, a massively exploded vulture and an extra-long guilty 12-inch greasy spent long dong hotdog. Then a pause in the near silent dust cloud walking was heard, ...and thanks for not letting one get killed, ...again. Rabbi's daughter that, said the invisible angelic female dust cloud walking.
Her ton and a half pickup truck was huge but compared to the two ton it seemed compact and sporty in comparison bc it was, in comparison. Her all-drive limited edition MACH-5 turbo Venger with super-turbo 4-Quad inline fuel-injectors could pull a medium size house right off its foundation bc she had. And her big truck’s granny-gear could easily take a near 45-degree incline and demolish any normal size vehicle with less than an almost visible dent, bc she had done that too.
Drone Vulture Hotdogs
She immediately in hast rushed forward diving for the window headlong to spit out her what-have-you make-shift-breakfast, a large chunk mouth-full of spicy Italian sausage garnished with turmeric and ginger sauce hotdog or sleeping in the desert alone again eating last night's on-the-run meal gone bad quick in unforgiving heat. She found herself hanging 1/2 out her big truck’s window miles off the ground swinging to and fro, like, a beautiful high-wire act w/no net but fully clothed, but beautiful all the same with upside down hair swinging in 1/2 tangled gobs of awesome wonderful. Oo, she wished she hadn’t done that bc she knew better, bc any living creature or rock within two miles would be rn now in hot pursuit coming for that spent hotdog even vultures.
Drone Operators learnt to follow vultures bc they often were noticed flying to wherever food and water were where ppl were way out in the desert between borders in no-man’s-land. She scanned the horizon facing east looking for vultures and following drones of whatever so-called authority in the region that month, a drone war zone of faceless drone operators and local warlords.
She fixed her hair in the wide long rear-view mirror attached to her big truck’s wide long windshield. The rear-view customized mirror also functioned as a visual digital display screen with those tiny dashboard blinking lil L.E.D. lights reading barely readable icon titles, like, temp; wind; GPS; Radar; Flare; and Auto/Manual-aim.
She put on earth-tone organic coloured light cadmium-red lipstick, a good marriage to her lovely unique near indistinguishable no-race olive tan complexion, not that she needed it to look even more beautiful, if that is even possible, but to protect her man-killers, she nicknamed them, but from being horribly weatherworn and old way before their time, may it never be. She huffed out loud a bit into the beautiful reflecting rear-view mirror at near sun rising a hot-pink and purple, and gold at about 4:30AM. Oops, she’d slept in bc it had to be at least 9AM as it was already 100-degrees outside according to her high-tech dashboard in her big burnt-Indian-red mammoth near bulletproof protecting big truck.
She put on earth-tone organic coloured light cadmium-red lipstick, a good marriage to her lovely unique near indistinguishable no-race olive tan complexion, not that she needed it to look even more beautiful, if that is even possible, but to protect her man-killers, she nicknamed them, but from being horribly weatherworn and old way before their time, may it never be. She huffed out loud a bit into the beautiful reflecting rear-view mirror at near sun rising a hot-pink and purple, and gold at about 4:30AM. Oops, she’d slept in bc it had to be at least 9AM as it was already 100-degrees outside according to her high-tech dashboard in her big burnt-Indian-red mammoth near bulletproof protecting big truck.
Born into a wealthy Rabbi’s daughter in a village town of around
3000 was not all that, uh, great she pondered in the desert morning alone, hungry and too sober. The Rabbi’s daughter, she laughed a chuckle out loud into the mirror! Even her voice was angelic. Ppl dont even know one’s name but The Rabbi's Daughter, she defended out loud into the huge open windshield of her big truck and to all of monkey-world beyond.
Feminism to her many sisters was any gentlemen who was simple minded enough with manors who were also financially independent beyond most. Nazis, she whispered out loud, knowing God hears her every spoken or misspoken word before leaving her brain. Sometimes her honest determined mind had her tongue at times, like, a small rudder of her ship that too often rudder-ed her into troubles that could have been avoided, like, an innocent as a dove and sneaky as a snake tourette’s person on steroids especially in young naive blindsighted girlhood.
Calling an Ace an Ace and a Spade a Spade, as it were, she soon learnt that honesty can be a dangerous business. She comforted herself, patting her firm muscular upper pecs’ with warm empathetic affection in response to her passing thought. If she didnt comfort herself who will, right, she smoothed in self-talk? She queried directly into the mirror with lipstick in hand as if a reply was soon to follow?
Calling an Ace an Ace and a Spade a Spade, as it were, she soon learnt that honesty can be a dangerous business. She comforted herself, patting her firm muscular upper pecs’ with warm empathetic affection in response to her passing thought. If she didnt comfort herself who will, right, she smoothed in self-talk? She queried directly into the mirror with lipstick in hand as if a reply was soon to follow?
She huffed again blowing a piece of beautiful silk brunette strain of hair out of her dainty face, she nicknamed it. The Rabbi’s daughter with no name, she whispered, refusing to go pinched-face threatening her looks inside.
Her visual mind flashed a room of her 11-sisters. All of them held social monikers, of, beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, lovely and pretty. She looked at the Prime Amazon junk-mail laying in the passenger’s floorboard two miles away in her big truck. It displayed a colour ad that read ‘Authentic Jacob’s Robe -Replica for only $19.95 free shipping with PRIME’. She giggle and giggled at least one giggle of disappointment, and a twinge of internal pain that cant be mended, fixed nor reassembled ever. Yup, her fam was no Fiddler On The Roof movie film but more a undermining Jacob's Coat, hoping that she wouldn't be socially acceptably sold off for a horse and two blankets to the highest bidder, as it were.
Her visual mind flashed a room of her 11-sisters. All of them held social monikers, of, beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, lovely and pretty. She looked at the Prime Amazon junk-mail laying in the passenger’s floorboard two miles away in her big truck. It displayed a colour ad that read ‘Authentic Jacob’s Robe -Replica for only $19.95 free shipping with PRIME’. She giggle and giggled at least one giggle of disappointment, and a twinge of internal pain that cant be mended, fixed nor reassembled ever. Yup, her fam was no Fiddler On The Roof movie film but more a undermining Jacob's Coat, hoping that she wouldn't be socially acceptably sold off for a horse and two blankets to the highest bidder, as it were.
Her man-god theology organized religion head of house Rabbi parent with no male heirs was a mere absentee thingy, in a mystical land of old dinosaur bones where females were to be seen when needed or desired and not heard until asked, old-school but nice enough, she guessed? Everyone seemed to love the Rabbi who had a lot of clout and slack locally also abroad, to be feared via his wealth, and influence as Rabbi, knowing a lot of connected powerful affluent as he was ppl in high places.
Her most socially acceptable and nice enough sisters hardly knew her name, too busy jostling for the biggest piece of attention, love and the last slice of NYC cheesecake. She however and fortunately or unfortunately held unspoken moniker of angelic, smashing her overly jealous lower IQ sisters’ beauty social monikers. And they all inherently knew it amongst themselves but refused to say it out loud. Unclothed and seldom seen by even a few when she went center-stage none could stand equal beside her female beauty and pure persona. All of her sisters would instantly stop speaking whenever she entered a room with darting pretty eyes in total silence as she would gladly pass through, finding her own perfect lounging spot for angelic Loners, whispering, “…who is she that can stand before jealousy”? She moaned a lil out loud, like, a loved for all the wrong reasons heart-felt DiCaprio with an eighty pound frozen bear rug on her back?
The remains of the huge hotdog were beginning to smell really awful and drawing big green flesh-eating flies as she grasped with much aggression for the long thick slimy dong sausage breaded thingy near in hand… BEEP BEEP BEEP ...suddenly w/out warning loud searing alarms rudely interrupted her morning big truck in the desert moment! BEEP BEEP BEEP
‘…Warning Rabbi’s Daughter drone approaching at 1.5 miles out your current location’, calmly said her onboard custom big truck Siri computer radar GPS system that she renamed Tommy. She enjoyed lovingly telling Tommy firmly what to do. F she yelped and jumped in her snug Indianapolis Race Car upgraded big truck high up driver-seat holding her comfortably in place like a giant fitted glove of God's powerful felt grip while she clenched forward so violently at the guilty hotdog so much so that the bloody thing shot out of the bun like a elongated fat greased mad pig from the 7th-circle-of-H and very pss-ed-off with a defiant mind of its own, running for its too far gone spoiled smelly sausage-life.
It did so while gloriously slinging slime dong juice everywhere splattering the digital readout display rear-view mirror before busting headlong into the massive windshield bouncing lively long dong slime juices all across the entire windshield, and dashboard prior taking evasive quick pilot in mid-air maneuvers out running her Moo-Duk-Quan hands grasping air. The nasty wiggling smelly, like old cheese, thing bounced back hard straight at her with determined vigor hitting her hard. It shot directly as if on purpose from a gun upon her well formed mounded female junk, between her shapely firm well formed legs, in her 5-inch thick memory-foam royal-purple custom fitted lien Captain's Chair seat in her burnt-Indian-red big truck.
It did so while gloriously slinging slime dong juice everywhere splattering the digital readout display rear-view mirror before busting headlong into the massive windshield bouncing lively long dong slime juices all across the entire windshield, and dashboard prior taking evasive quick pilot in mid-air maneuvers out running her Moo-Duk-Quan hands grasping air. The nasty wiggling smelly, like old cheese, thing bounced back hard straight at her with determined vigor hitting her hard. It shot directly as if on purpose from a gun upon her well formed mounded female junk, between her shapely firm well formed legs, in her 5-inch thick memory-foam royal-purple custom fitted lien Captain's Chair seat in her burnt-Indian-red big truck.
F, she startled a scream again at the horror happening trying to dodge the wild wet greasy hotdog from H hitting her head hard against the windshield’s overhead visor thingy, cutting a 1/2 inch clean cut above her L-eyebrow squirting a tiny drop of blood onto her white linen sleeve.
All the while in cockpit turmoil, during the commotion Tommy is heard, saying, in calm robotic monotones, ’I dont know how to respond to that’, w/out emotion, every time she commanded the word F. TOMMY turn OFF causal listening, she chocked while smearing away the dong long fat hotdog slime off of her smeared-out greasy from the inside windshield w/a quick moving white linen covered L-elbow looking for the drone but only saw a vulture coming straight at her.
All the while in cockpit turmoil, during the commotion Tommy is heard, saying, in calm robotic monotones, ’I dont know how to respond to that’, w/out emotion, every time she commanded the word F. TOMMY turn OFF causal listening, she chocked while smearing away the dong long fat hotdog slime off of her smeared-out greasy from the inside windshield w/a quick moving white linen covered L-elbow looking for the drone but only saw a vulture coming straight at her.
That wanker-hotdog she near screamed, F, gabbing it from between her perfect crotch or female pitcher’s mound home-plate of desired woman-ness, tossing it with full female authority out of the giant diver's window with a snapping furry seldom seen in her on regular occasions. Her cheeks often flushed when vexed making her even more beautiful when agitated. And she never used foul language, mostly, unless an emergency and may not be godly but it instills immediate urgency, she flashed. All the while Tommy kept replying,“I dont know how to respond to that”. TOMMY TURN OFF CASUAL LISTENING, F, she screamed again, "I dont know how to respond to that", Tommy replied casual as ever. She jumped at driver's side window finally spotting the drone with her mini-binoculars following about .5 miles behind the vulture right towards her and her beloved, and beautiful as she was big burnt-Indian-red RAD one, and a half ton truck hidden in shadow behind a sand mound where she parked last night!
She didn’t bother hitting the ignition to spend away to near-by cave that she could drive into, that she knew of and was certain that her big truck could outrun the drone to the cave. This holds true bc she had earlier reset the onboard computer system with a dashboard that, read, rebooting ignition ready in about 27-minutes. ‘Warning Rabbi’s Daughter drone is scanning for lock-on’ Tommy announced calmly. Tommy, what IP User-name ID is scanning, she queried in a rush?! “The IP address is blocked as generic code without nationality nor origin”, Tommy replied. It cant be American, she whispered?
“Warning Rabbi's Daughter drone has locked-on your GPS location and increasing in speed to 110 miles per hour”, Tommy robotically explained. Her greasy hand slipped off the ignition key until she managed to turn it to the on position. She had to quickly make the decision rn! Tommy activate auto-aim A in three round short three-round-bursts fire at will, she swooned in immediate do-or-die commanding authority while forward glancing at the incoming hostile seeking drone coming suddenly and ever-closer.
“Warning Rabbi's Daughter drone has locked-on your GPS location and increasing in speed to 110 miles per hour”, Tommy robotically explained. Her greasy hand slipped off the ignition key until she managed to turn it to the on position. She had to quickly make the decision rn! Tommy activate auto-aim A in three round short three-round-bursts fire at will, she swooned in immediate do-or-die commanding authority while forward glancing at the incoming hostile seeking drone coming suddenly and ever-closer.
That’s all she could do so she quickly jumped from her monster truck rolling in the sand, making a mad dash away, and merely waited to watch the show unfold before her. With binoculars in hand she scanned the sky towards the drone behind that bloody tell-all vulture.
The small well hidden box turret mounted on her big truck cabin rooftop instantly engaged into a high pitched whining digital hydraulic metallic sound then suddenly turned w/out notice, like, a mad robot on steroids, swinging in lightening speed left towards the rushing in drone armed w/one lightweight sand-rocket and armor piercing 50-cal machine-guns locking in on her burnt-Indian-red big truck.
Her big truck's stealth barely visible slate-grey two-barrel mini-machine-gun's business end spit off a hot round of w/out fail and alarming sudden accuracy one three-round-burst of armor piercing bullets that she had legally purchased off of the blackmarket, if that’s even possible, also known as at the Farmers Market every Saturday, making a welcoming but terrifying ripping sound in the air with puffs of spent gunpowder smoke.
She loved the smell of charred gunpowder, wondering if something was wrong with her in the head though she politely never spoke of it? The first round of shots fired from her mounted big truck mini-antiaircraft machine-gun ripped right through the vulture exploding it upon impact just prior doing same to the drone.
Her big truck's stealth barely visible slate-grey two-barrel mini-machine-gun's business end spit off a hot round of w/out fail and alarming sudden accuracy one three-round-burst of armor piercing bullets that she had legally purchased off of the blackmarket, if that’s even possible, also known as at the Farmers Market every Saturday, making a welcoming but terrifying ripping sound in the air with puffs of spent gunpowder smoke.
She loved the smell of charred gunpowder, wondering if something was wrong with her in the head though she politely never spoke of it? The first round of shots fired from her mounted big truck mini-antiaircraft machine-gun ripped right through the vulture exploding it upon impact just prior doing same to the drone.
Thank GOD she yelled, falling to her knees in the already hot sand, something went right, she huffed a bit as a lil drop of clear snot dripped from her adorable nose and she instantly wiped it away with greasy long dong old sausage juice soiled hands. Damn long dong hotdog she puffed womanly like but firm enough in no uncertain terms and tones! Then rain chunks of vulture rained down on her beloved burnt-Indian-red big truck …splat, splat-splat, splat, splat blood and guts while one large big piece weirdly landed only inches away from the piece of guilty as H long dong hotdog that had started he whole bloody mess in the first place.
Her faint comments in the distance trailed behind her as she slowly disappears in small dust cloud about her underfoot. Damn hotdogs was heard out loud as she got smaller walking way off into the desert alone, mostly. A near mumbling was auditable in the moment at hand, a walking invisible determined and good-hearted DIVERGENT female dust cloud, …’damn hotdogs, bloody vultures, friggin-drones', she went on, ...oh and sorry for the vile language, she said, it was an emergency’.
Her soft tones were barely heard in the desert, alone, in near total invisibility in her walking about dust cloud upon a mammoth desert floor, well, except for one very dead drone, a massively exploded vulture and an extra-long guilty 12-inch greasy spent long dong hotdog. Then a pause in the near silent dust cloud walking was heard, ...and thanks for not letting one get killed, ...again. Rabbi's daughter that, said the invisible angelic female dust cloud walking.
…to be continued...
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