Jazzmin Flush (12)

   
   "Jazzmin Flush (12)"
   
   Jazzmin Flush elaborately buried the deceased coyote after selling her grandma's silver bracelet enchanted by way of a Celtic Knot inscription--these deeds paying for transport and proper burial at a nearby pet cemetery.  It had thieved away from her impoverished extravaganza; nevertheless, the mystical mutt deserved such Franciscan respect after being murdered by her cowardish enemies, them--friends of the dreary dark.
   So, Jazzmin Flush forced herself into enjoyment for the rest of the day, joking with Fredrica and Thomas at the taco truck.  Thomas was back as part-time guac scooper, and Fredrica was constantly bossing him with sisterly love.  The day continued on wonderways, and Jazzmin Flush ultimately opened up about the vulgar vandalism.  Girthy Gilda overheard, and the firecrackerish, wheelchair-bound entrepreneur wasn't happy with Jazzmin's lack of anger.  Girthy Gilda was like:  "Suckers gotta pay!  Oh my, I need a coffin nail.  Thomas reach into my garter belt and grab my pack of LUCKY STRIKE--don't worry honey; they're toasted."
   "No way in heaven Girthy Gilda--I'm practically a monk!"  Thomas cringed.
   Jazzmin Flush and Fredrica broke out in comical laughter; then, Fredrica kindly pulled out her own organic butt and ignited the cherry with a pocket-sized lightsaber type doohickey for Girthy Gilda--Jazzmin Flush couldn't help but wonder, RETALIATION, but that didn't seem nice, or . . .