And then the door to the pub crashed open and in stepped a gloriously blond Amazon, aiming two gleaming silver pistols at the Monsieur. She was at least six foot six, and every curve on her was exaggerated, her tiny rock hard waist, her bountiful bosoms that pulled at the constraints of her button down shirt, her ass, oh her ass with it's firm and rippled glutes that reminded Swotsy of nothing less than a prize race horse. Her muscled shoulders filled the door frame.

All the little people looked up at her and gasped. As did Swotsy. Poor confused Swotsy, her head spun, her loins burned.

The Monsieur, however narrowed his eyes and stalked the floor. Dwarves scattered to all corners.

There was no time for confusion. Swotsy pulled her weapon, as did all the other police in the room and the Monsieur just laughed.

"Those will not harm me." He tossed the nearest police man into the wall, and he grunted and slid down to the floor, unconscious. The hail of bullets that followed, he just laughed off. When it quieted, and the dwarves all peeked from behind their cover,

The blond goddess spoke. "But mine will. They are silver... that would be poison to your system wouldn't it?"

"The Giant Queen!" they dwarves whispered in awe from their hiding places. "The Giant Queen."

From her great height, the Amazon, looked down upon them and the whispers ended.

"I've got your back, Captain Velkiris. I don't know how you knew what was going on, but I'm ready," Joe said, his trusty gun warm in his hand.

"Stand down, Sargeant," she said, her steely eyes never leaving the Monsieur's. "I sent you in here without knowledge and without the proper equipment. Your bullets will just pass through him. If I had prepared you, if you had known, the Monsieur would never have exposed himself by following you in here. I needed you to be too attractive to his needs. I needed you as bait. And he was, wasn't he, Monsieur?"

The Monsieur hissed.

7 is the magic number

done anything to be the perfect aunt. On the day he was due back from Holland with Alice, May tidied the house, imagining all the wonderful adventures that lay ahead of them. She just had time to wash the last of the facepacks off before she heard Alice's key in the door. She ran downstairs followed by a liquid stream of cats, rushing down the steps like mercury in her wake, yowling a greeting, relieved not to be alone in the house any longer with this maniac who blended their mother.

Joe rushed into the lamplit hall, glanced up as his aunt ran to greet him and froze in horror. As Alice pulled the key from the lock, he began to scream.

May left soon after that. Small town Suffolk was no place for her. She married an octogenarian billionaire with a feline obsession. Alone at home with a small child, Alice's high spirits didn't last long.
'Go play,' she would push Joe out of the kitchen door as one of her gentlemen arrived to do odd jobs around the house. 'Go find some friends your own age.'

And he did. When Randy and Violet were busy with their own families, Joe would wander out to the trailer park to play with Clive's kids. CJ became like the kid brother he never had. It was the only place he felt accepted, the only place where people didn't joke about his crazy cat aunt and Alice's drinking. The only place in the world he felt like the normal one. There were eight of them in one trailer - Rowena, Clive, their five children and her mother, poor Wilma's best friend .........

Clive busied himself closing up the bar. He kicked his ladder across the floor, smashing to pieces the pink Barbie castle that stood in the Kiddie Korner. His mood was as black as the outside night, if not darker. His brow was a tangled mass of knotted furrows. How could they all be so goddamned stupid? Were these idiots in possession of functioning brains, or what? Clearly not. No matter. After all these years, it was finally coming to a head. Joe was back. That meant basically one thing. The paradigm was going to shift; it could go this way, it could go that way – who could tell? It was if events had taken control of themselves and fate had cast itself to the wind. Someone needed to guide it.
He slowly opened the door to his secret cabinet, the one place he could call his own. As he withdrew his .44 Magnum Colt Anaconda he knew intuitively that things would not, could not, ever be the same after this. Dull metallic silver, the firearm was preternaturally heavy in his hand. It felt good, right. There was a score to be settled. Perhaps several, he wasn’t quite sure. There was so much happening at once – Rowena was the only one who understood the big picture. But she was out there, out on the web, he couldn’t talk to her. It was against the rules, wasn’t it? He felt miserably alone.
Having packed the piece in an old rag, he picked up the phone and began to dial. There was nothing for it. Fate had just gotten a direction. He had to get hold of . . .