THE LEGACY OF MAD DOG

by Galen Hardesty

CHAPTER THREE

ATTACK OF THE FIFTH ESTATE

------&

Daria sat in the office of Wanda Farraway, public relations specialist for the law firm of Vitale, Davis, Riordan, Horowitz, Schrecter, Schrecter, and Schrecter and tugged at her skirt, trying to move a seam out from under a tender spot on her thigh. Her sister Quinn sat in another chair beside her. Wanda was engrossed in reading an article in this morning's Lawndale Sun-Herald.

Wanda looked up from the paper at Daria and Quinn with an amazed expression. "And there were how many of these... Tarantulas?"

"I believe I heard the figure twenty-seven mentioned. That sounds about right." said Daria. Behind her, Helen slipped into the office and closed the door behind her.

"Twenty-seven of them against the two of you, and you won?"

"We slaughtered 'em!" crowed Quinn. "They never had a chance!"

Daria winced. "Well, they had just gotten through beating up all the regular patrons. There were about a dozen of them. They lost, but they wore the bikers down some for us." she pointed out.

"But when you entered, there was no one standing but these outlaw bikers?"

"That's right." Daria launched into a concise description of the fight.

"That's about the most clear-cut case of self-defense I've ever heard of. This should be no trouble at all."

"Legally speaking, yes. But what we want to do is minimize our media exposure. There might be one little thing, though. Quinn did hit one guy a few times after it was strictly necessary from a self-defense viewpoint."

"A few times?"

"Four or five. Or six. In the head. With a pool cue. After he was unconscious." Daria murmured, looking down at her boots.

"Ooh. That's certainly not favorable. How many witnesses are we talking about?"

"Six or seven of the regulars were conscious by then, maybe one or two of the Tarantulas, but I doubt it, and me."

"And Quinn?"

Daria looked over at her sister, who had been uncharacteristically quiet for the last few minutes. "Her memory of the fight itself is kind of vague. Quinn, describe the fight as you remember it."

"It was awesome! This big fat smelly disgusting... animal says he's gonna... do me on the pool table, and when he goes to grab me, Daria just explodes! She moved so fast I couldn't really see what she did, but I heard the bones breaking, and then she moved on and he kind of collapsed on the floor making this whining screaming noise, but by that time Daria had taken out two or three more of them! It was just great to watch her because she never wasted a move, and you could tell she had it planned out in advance because when she finished a move, she'd always be set up for the next one, but she was just so fast I could hardly follow her, and then this guy had a piece of pool cue, and he was gonna hit her in the head from behind and that just made me so mad I saw red, and I snatched the pool cue out of his hands and started swinging... it's a little fuzzy after that, until Daria grabbed me and told me it was over and made me stop. Oh, and... when she grabbed me, before I stopped, I... hit her." Quinn looked down at the floor, ashamed.

Wanda looked at Daria. "Oh, dear! Are you hurt?"

"Just a couple of bruises. She didn't have a good angle. She was trying to swing over my shoulders."

"Bad bruises? Could you show me?"

"Well..." Daria stood, turned to face away from Wanda, and lifted the back of her skirt several inches, to reveal two pool cue imprints on the back of her left thigh. They were black, blue, and purple, with irregular reddish outlines. They looked terrible.

"Oh, my goodness! Don't those hurt?"

"Yes, but I'm ignoring it. Look, I agree with you that there shouldn't be much of a legal problem. It probably will never occur to those guys that what Quinn did was wrong. They do it all the time themselves. It's SOP to them. We need your help with the media. I certainly don't want reporters and camera crews swarming me and tabloids turning me into eight different kinds of freak until the next juicy story comes along, and I doubt that the rest of my family does either. Can you get them off our backs?"

"But, Daria, the story is already out. It's too late to suppress it."

Helen interjected "Can we minimize it, or discredit it, or spin it? I don't want my girls on the cover of the Comet or the National Perspirer, or us either, for that matter. Jake's clients would run away the next time he got a little excited! And it wouldn't do me any good either." Her expression turned grim as she considered the possible repercussions.

Daria's expression brightened a little. She moved to Wanda's computer. "I think the regulars at Mad Dawg's would be inclined to help us, and I got the impression that the guy who took that photo was a regular, too. May I?"

"Sure." Wanda's expression turned thoughtful, with a hint of scheming. "If they claimed they were the ones who beat up the bikers, and you girls said the same... The Tarantulas probably wouldn't dispute it. If it got out that they were beaten up by two high school girls, their reputation would be ruined!"

Daria had found the phone number for Mad Dawg's on the Internet, and was writing it down. "Maybe we could discredit the original story by associating it with the sensationalist tabloid press."

"That's good, Daria! If you're through on the computer, I'll track down the source."

Daria moved away from the computer and picked up Wanda's desk phone. "I'll call Mad Dawg's and find out what I can."

"Good, but we need a face-to-face with all their patrons that were there last night as soon as possible. Do any of you know someone in Fremont who could help set up a meeting?"

Helen fast-drew her cell phone and speed-dialed. "My husband is there right now, and that's right up his alley."

------&