Virgin Ninja (8)

   
   "Virgin Ninja (8)"
   
   Joanna Blanc raced down the side streets out in the bucolic yonder of pastoral praise, exclaiming a symphony of high-speed to keep her rubber grounded onto the green of Terra's gravity; at the same time, it was Friday, and her Joan of Arc cut with curls of flaxen had a cranium underneath, which probed beyond the meditations of the Sorrowful Mysteries, knowing the Resurrection arrives next, for a vegetation god can never die.
   Bobby McQuade was getting schooled by the enduro power of a hardcore built-for-anything bike, yet his Rebel kept a tight grip on Joanna's Kawasaki tail, him never seeing her brake light shine, for she was full throttle, opening up the rice-burning fury of fabulous.
   Whoever wins is not the problem.  There is no problem.  For there was no competition going on here.  Merely, gaming.  Play.  A Nordic Rune--Perthro.  The Trinity and Virgin Queen hang out; thus, man is not to be alone, even if introverted, but seek companionship in the defeat of his pride, if only to meet others like or unlike him or herself.  That's what this race was about--gaming.