Jazzmin Flush (35)

   
   "Jazzmin Flush (35)"
   
   Jazzmin Flush fabulously floated off the anti-gravity flight, actually holding Thomas' hand with a loving, non-lustful grip--though they hadn't even so much as shared a sublime smooch yet; still, the twosome were truly in love's meshed embrace.
   After getting the info from one of the editors at the L.A. Derelict, Jazzmin Flush put the great, literary news behind her for the moment, and eagerly allowed Thomas' canine nostrils to sniff the way towards Girthy Gilda's rude pickle.  First, they picked up Fredrica from Jazzmin's basement, fed her some oil-soaked sardines and soda crackers along with a cold glass of white and green tea infused, all while Jazzmin was loving on whisker-twitching Swiss, much to Thomas' lack of amusement, him rolling his eyes.  "We've gotta get to Girthy Gilda's place Jazzmin.  Now put the mouse down before I gobble him up."
   Jazzmin Flush shot scimitars at Thomas with hurt eyes.  "You wouldn't dream of it babe."
   But all was soon forgiven as the threesome found their trio of energy in Girthy Gilda's modest shanty--her all alone and sadly singular, lost to a family's abandonment.
   "Girthy Gilda--we've been so worried!"  Jazzmin Flush weeping wet tears of torture and joy at viewing her beloved boss sitting in odoriferous fecal matter, barely able to claw her Lucky Strike, her feet scissoring and club-like.
   Fredrica and Thomas cleaned her spotless while Jazzmin brewed the relax of chamomile tea; next, Thomas noticed a red spot resonating--a bull's eye pattern on her high thigh while putting on a fresh, powdered diaper.  "That's Lyme Disease--it totally offers neurological trauma if untreated for years."
   "How do you know?"  Jazzmin Flush being interrogative.  
   "I'm practically a dog Jazzmin--I know ticks--it is in me to be cool and keen about such things. Okay, you girls stay here--I'm gonna go get some Otoba Bark."
   "Is it a cure?"  Jazzmin Flush continued with pondering aloud.
   Thomas was like:  "When a person gets a neurological disorder and has bodily bending--if the neurologist is a true textbook with a soul; then, they'll check for Lyme Disease, syphilis, everything, unless they're a soulless textbook with a Bush League education."
   "That's a better education than mine."  Fredrica admitted.
   Thomas snarled.  "Learning is not because there is esoteric information only available in the classroom--that's hogwash.  Just ask Gore Vidal."
   Jazzmin Flush turned to Fredrica, blurting:  "Gore Vidal was really weird or something--I think."
   Thomas left to get the medicine.