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   Chapter 44 No.44

Prodigal Sun By Christina Engela Characters: 5228

Updated: 2018-07-20 19:01

McCracken sighed loudly. "We're fucked!" He moaned, and sank hard into a wheelie-chair, placing his head in his hands. "Fucked, I tell you!"

"Well – call them up anyway!" Landry continued. "If they can still blow the ack out cocka-snoek, they should be able to do something about this!"

"Governor." Peg interrupted. "I agree with you that the veterans in the Skegg's Valley Dynamite Fishing Club probably have way more combat training and experience than anyone on Deanna – but for now, we've got no way to contact anyone! Perhaps, if we can find a way out of the Palace, and even the city, then we can call Shady Palms and see if the Matron will let them out to deal with the fuckers that shot Prince Justin! In the meantime, we still need a way out of here, as fast as possible!"

"Right." Landry nodded in agreement. "First thing's first then, capital!"

"Okay." Peg sighed, wishing she had remote access to the headache pills in her desk drawer back at the station. This was turning out to be a very long damn day.

"Well?" Asked Landry expectantly.

"Well, what?" Peg asked in turn.

"What's the first thing?" He asked. What was the old man smoking?

Just then, the building's chief of security returned, entering the room through the door into the lobby, accompanied by two of his colleagues, also dressed in the beige and brown uniforms of state building security. He went right up to Peg, giving the Governor a nod, sending a drop of sweat falling from the tip of his chin. His face was wet and shiny with perspiration. Clearly he was not han

ntually turned on the TV – just in time to watch the whole fucking world go sideways down the crapper, live on D.N.N.!

She had only resorted to turning on the idiot box to alleviate her boredom in the first place, and in the second, to help her get over the shock of seeing a bearded midget dressed as a fairytale princess, wearing butterfly wings on his back, clutching a pixie wand, and riding a pig dressed in leather past her door and down the hallway.

Clearly Lugaluru wasn't for the faint of heart, and while she accepted that in most cases advertising was false, exaggerated and didn't generally live up to itself – in this case, it pretty much had.

On the flipside of the coin, the local government had just slipped down the drain in a very big way. Someone – a very well organized and funded someone – had launched a revolution against the Empire – and to crown it all, some very unlucky Prince on a royal visit to the place just got his sweet royal ass blown off by someone who looked remarkably like Brandon bloody Carver!

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