Junk It

Wherever Rose was given the platform, she railed gainst Azure:

“So many Americans have trouble putting food on their tables & she uses tax $ to go on fancy trips. ¡Unbelievable!”

But when she was ‘lone–which was more oft than she liked–she’d pace in front o’ her skyline-filled window & steam, ¿How could she just leave me here while she husses round with that ditz from Arizona?

But then she read the next morn’s paper & broke into sobs into her wing.

The headline: “Senator Azure Shot in the Head by Militant Group.”


Chard, Junket, Skull