A Were-Wheaten Christmas (3)

   
   "A Were-Wheaten Christmas (3)"
   
   Okay--Freddy Hart was an attractive, near middle-aged woman; specifically, a loner lady, always keeping her guard up, knowing that many a yutz is on the loose; plus, wanted to avoid any cat fights with the local tail, those frisky felines fervently possessive of even another woman's innocent and accidental (it's a word) glance at an owned and paid for tool.  
   She drove a Crown Victoria from the 1980's.  An old big block eight-cylinder that was fiercely cherry-hot-red.  Used to be a Fire Chief's car, having had lights and all.  The scanner and CB were still in there; also, Freddy frequently used the CB and scanner--her handle was:  ROUGE ONE--yup, she had a French app on her android; plus, did 6th grade with a blanc girl named Aceline; moreover, was still in touch with Aceline, over the antiquated horn of something like unto fiber-optics, but Freddy really didn't know what that was, neither do I.  
   The sirens had been removed from her car.  The friendly Fire Chief did it before the sale.  Wasn't a friend of the family or anything.  Random roll of the dungeon dice.
   As a Were-Wheaten, it was hard to make friends.  Yet Miss Freddy Hart was pals with a bitch West Highland White Terrier down the electric block.  Suburbia is high voltage crazy and plain kooky.