Fox Biddable (9)

   
   "Fox Biddable (9)"
   
   Jenny McGee got a bit lost from her foxiness, just for a moment, for she was cleaning up her Dad's putrid puke on the desert-brown futon, him not able to make it to the toilet after greedily guzzling a sixer followed by a bottle of Jack Daniels; indeed, the old man was a lascivious lush, only getting off on NASCAR though, having great reflection on the Buddy Baker days--him the gentle giant of automobile racing--forever and ever and ever.  
   So, she decided to intervene concerning his deranged drinking, by sweetly shaming him--the best way to do it being by way of making his conscience ignite, which is like a loving mother's instruction and benevolent concern; thus, she got Granny Ginger on the horn, a woman of great girth and spunky spirit.
   Granny Ginger had always cracked up Jenny.  The woman herself had no shame.  Would spit her tobacco juice into a tin cup, followed by vociferously announcing, every freaking, juicy time mind you:  "Bull's Eye!"  Too, her flatulence was legendary, not as bad as Martin Luther's during his phobic concerns over meeting the Pope, but it was a comical yet hideous explosion of internal gas, producing a sort of ripple effect, as her butt cheeks were like unto two tubs of large curd cottage cheese, and the ferocious farts were never held in like a lady should do, but she used the "Force" to shove the noxious gas outwards, it sounding like Paul Bunyan taking his ax to a whoopi cushion's child-like innocence.
   So, she told Granny Ginger to crack down on Dad; next, after Granny agreed--Jenny remembered her foxiness, rubbed her fox tooth necklace, and camouflaged her presence from Dad, but not before cranking up the television volume to full throttle, making his head ache with angered annoyance, it driving him back into a sober state of calm consciousness, and making his former military training kick in, which inspired him to clean up the rest of his own vile vomit.  Yup, Jenny could use her tricks for noble purpose, but Dad needed Xanax if he wanted to relax, and who the hell isn't on that mind-numbing shit, us all effected by the greater knowledge that we are not alone, unable to accept the smell of Folgers in the morning, being too busy to seek God and put light into darkness, having dastardly denial concerning mercy and miracles, as none of the fallen want us to know that true love truly exists. 
   Then, Jenny got inside her economically-inclined Honda, and wended her way towards the destiny of Healing Eagle--for her next serious session of Otherworldly training.