Fox Biddable (4)

   
   "Fox Biddable (4)"
   
   Healing Eagle was piloting his eggshell-white Mustang with Jenny McGee throwing back a cold one, harming no souls, as she innocently sat in the passenger seat, the icy lager in her left hand, a pair of Walgreen's bought scissors in her right--screw the open container law in Tennessee, for some laws are unjust, and made to be broken.
   The Nashville lights illuminated, with neon shine mind you, a Mustang's free passage through a nocturnal city, and Jenny was cutting all her hair off, knowing she would be hated less, making herself like unto a lesbian, in aesthetics only, without metaphorically, in a sexual sense, having a flaming instinct to give it to anybody up the tailbone.  She was as innocent as a dove, with a slight buzz, and Healing Eagle was well pleased with her decision to shape-shift, camouflaging her beauty with a boy's sterner countenance, in order to survive the glares of lust and envy.  She would become like unto a mad monk, humiliating her own beauty, before the jealousy of serpents attempted to slither into her mind's eye.  She would hide in the shadow of a modest forest, yet so enchanted by a loyal pack and family from the Otherworld.
   Healing Eagle said, turning down the opera on the radio:  "The Pope has the privilege of lecturing America, for he castrates himself, allegorically, yet still makes his own love--the secret of celibacy, without the pungent vice of bacterial infection, while the preacher man does carnal gymnastics with his moll-like wife screwing the openly sexual Deacon at the same time.  To be as Christ, you have to live as Christ, turning your back on the world that hates you, taking the path less traveled, while the fools have treasures that rust doth destroy, not knowing, where your heart is, so is your treasure, and why not go for eternity instead of a life span that is over in the blink of an eye.  Truly, the Brass Ring is God Himself, not some inflated bimbo with good tits, like the Whore of Babylon."
   Jenny was like:  "You have plenty of foul in your mouth for a healer and teacher."
   Healing Eagle responded:  "I voted for Nixon back in the day.  He liked to drop the F Bomb.  At least I know what I'm guilty of, and my tongue is not forked."
   Jenny glimpsed her man-like reflection in the Sun visor mirror underneath the Nashville electricity; next, said:  "Joan of Arc has got nothing on me now."
   Healing Eagle reminded:  "Don't get cocky yet.  Your fight is just beginning--as of now, you are only in the state of preparation for war, like a boy scout with a molesting troop leader; indeed, always be prepared for snakes in life.  And all members of the Canidae culture loathe slithering slicksters."