That Rex Gotta Roar - Julia Mills Page 0,21

are here because someone has disrupted the Veil between the living and the dead in the Swamp. They are messing with magical mojo they have no business messing with. In other words, and please excuse my language, they frakkin' us all up in big and dangerous ways."

I didn't have the heart to tell Miss MacElfresh that frakkin' was not a curse word. Goddess knows she spent the better part of her life trying to educate us hardheads and keep us from talkin' like drunken sailors. It was her life's work. So, I let her have her little foray into what she used to call 'naughty behavior' and just listened as she explained.

“According to the Powers That Be, it is up to you and your Flock to put things right before…ahhhhhhhhhhh! Noooooooooo!”

“Miss M! Miss M, where did you go?” Yelling my fool head off while I spun around in circles, my voice joined Cassandra’s as we chorused, “Miss MacElfresh! Where are you? What happened? How in the…?

Slluuuurrrrrrpppppp! Gurgle-gurgle-gurgle! Glug! Glug! Glug!

And just like that, Cassandra and I were caught back in the cyclone – typhoon-hurricane from the beginning of our not-so informative trip to Shifter Purgatory. Spinning like I was the center of the Tilt-A-Whirl at the Parish Fair, I got glimpses and blips of Cassandra being hauled up off the highly polished wooden floor of the old gymnasium and hung upside-down like a side of beef at Buford's Butcher Shop.

From one terrifying turn to another, my sassy – but now screaming – alter ego went from six-foot-two-inches to two-foot-six-inches, squished like a soda can under the tires of a pick-up on Old Miller Rd, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to help. Twirling and whirling, I screamed, “Hold on, Cassandra. It’s gotta be…”

But the words never came, and it's a good thing because they would've been a lie. The shitstorm of getting us back together, out of the Other Way Round, and safely home was far from over.

Stopping so fast, it felt like my heart, brain, and most of my other internal organs flew out of my body, then right back in like they were attached to a rubber band, I didn't even have time to scream as the next calamity came roaring my way. Spinning ass-over-teakettle, my now compacted Canary was flung left, right, and center before being thrown towards me at an incredibly high rate of speed.

From one second to the next, everything went from a blur to moving at the speed of Tanya Turtlebaum and her ten sisters toddling down Tottersham Lane. (Tortoise Shifters, you get the metaphor, right?)

Talking about going from bad to worse. Think about it…

I was stuck, trapped like a Rat with nowhere and no how to escape, and Cassandra was flying towards me, feet first, aiming for my mouth that some dickhead had magically forced open. Talk about a horror movie brought to life. I knew where those feet had been and could only pray that Cassie had been using the foot spa I gave her for Christmas.

Claws across the tongue, feathers in my mouth, Hippo cannonball in reverse...

(No, that is in no way a reverse Cowgirl. You need to get your mind outta the gutter. Save that shit for my bachelorette party HA!)

...the flames of the worse indigestion in history ran rings around my waist until I was sure I was about to projectile vomit Cassie right back up.

Thank all the little Angels, I did not.

However, the ordeal called Shifter Separation Sucks was far from over. Fire tore down the front of my legs and made rings around my ankles before slamming into my big toes like cement blocks thrown from the hundredth floor of the Empire State Building.

Slamming into place, Cassandra screamed something that sounded like, "Screw you all to Hell, fucking Powers That Be!" before passing out. I wish I could tell you that it was over. Really, I do. Because just the retelling of our harrowing experience has left me light-headed and in need of coffee, but I can't leave you hanging. We are, after all, friends, right?

A whoosh of darkness, a swish of goodness, and we were flung through what can only be described as the Other Way Round's garbage disposal. Soaring through thick, vicious black nothingness, a loud, shrill voice with a Louisiana twang reverberated over, around, and through me, "You have all the answers. Only you can stop that Daughter - of - a - Voodoo - Priest - without - an