The Winged Wolf

Written by catsamurai16.

An Idea from TalosLives.

Chapter 01:A Chaotic Exit and a Dangerous Calm

"The Rings of Hell, a harsh and unforgiving place. From the mightiest demon to the lowliest imp, survival was ingrained into everyone and everything. For thousands of years, the dregs of Hell were savage, wild, and unpredictable.

With the souls of the living came a sense of order. Demons devoured soul upon soul, gaining strength and sentience. In time, a hierarchy formed between the demons and souls of the damned. One such hierarchy was the Goetia bloodline. A line of multiple demons joined together for one glorious goal, conquest. They were proud, majestic, and ruthless. Their leaders each controlled legions who instilled their will and powers into them. These demons waged war to tame the wilds of Hell and carved the Rings into lands that could be ruled by them. In doing so they formed a silent pact of peace among themselves in a language rarely spoken today.

'Here we all burn. Here we all rule. Here we are all Kings.'

For untold time, the Goetia ruled Hell and all who lived there bowed to them. Then, Lucifer and his army of Angels fell."

Jericho signed as his private tutor went off on another tirade against their Emperor King. Most Hellborn didn't care who was in charge as Lucifer and the royals mostly kept to themselves. But the old ways of "swearing revenge on the foul usurper angel" still clung around even today. It was a fool's errand anyway. Lucifer was a Fallen Angel and his power, while corrupted, was still divine. No one in Hell stood a chance against him. Shrugging, Jericho decided to continue his history lesson on his own. They had been reviewing how the primordial demons existed and early interactions with Heaven and the Mortal World. The next lesson dealt with how in early Mortal history, mankind unknowingly worshipped demons as gods or guardians. Finding power in their blind worshipers, most demons decided to reward them. They taught man a great many things, mathematics, astrology, science, even farming and hunting. His Uncle Stolas once told him how civilizations used to sacrifice crops, animals, and even virgins to him. He found it messy, but good fertilizer.

Drifting from his studies at the thought of his uncle, Jericho sighed. He wished he could be with his uncle today. Prince Stolas was a powerful and respected demon who still today has some scant followers on Earth. The tall Owl demon's talent for magic is unmatched among the Goetia families. When Jericho's own magical powers surfaced, his father asked Stolas personally to train him. Studying with Stolas was so much more fun, seeing as Jericho could spend time with his favorite cousin, Octavia. Moreover, he liked Stolas and Octavia because they didn't treat him like walking shit. It was Octavia's idea to help Jericho out with his problem. He remembered how relieved he felt after Stolas had said yes. Now, it was just the matter of escaping the fallout.

He turned his attention to his imp tutor, Harrison, and sighed as the imp was now bowing on the floor. The older imp had changed from spilling out slurs and insults toward Lucifer to brown nosing about how great his father was in his prime. His father, Marquis Naberius, was of the Goetia line. Naberius commanded 19 of Hell legions with honor and dignity, something that was rare in Hell. Their ranks boasted powerful beast demons, skilled marksmen, and silent assassins. For years, Naberius protected the damned souls in the Ring of Pride and provided aid after the Extermination Days and protected the weaker sinners. He personally flew over Pentagram City in his elegant raven form to ensure the safety of its citizens. His beast form of a large three headed dog gave him a full range view of any battlefield. He fought with honor using a bejeweled rapier, slashing and stabbing at his opponents, but he never struck down a defeated enemy. He commanded great respect from the demons under his charge and they trusted his orders. It was easy to see how the ancient Greeks came to fear him as Cerberus, their guardian of Hell's gates.

However, in recent years, Naberius had let his discipline slip into decline. He stopped being involved in his own affairs. He gave the job of organizing the aid to the citizens to his first son, Xavier. The job of training and keeping his troops in line went to his second son, Quentin. Rumors spread around the Rings that the Marquis was sick and dying or that he was too busy with his surviving two wives, Diane and Evelyn. Only a select few knew it was because of grief. Marquis Naberius, one of the most powerful demons of Hell, was grieving over the loss of his third wife, Melissa, Jericho's mother.

"Master Jericho!"

Jericho was spared his thoughts about his departed mother by Harrison slamming his hands on his desk. Jericho yipped in shock, quickly turning to the angry imp.

"Have you heard anything I've said, sir?" Harrison asked, tapping his claws on the desk.

Jericho took a moment to catch his breath before answering. "You were saying that if the Plains of Elusian had been held by Ba'als army, Lucifer might not have made it to the area that is now Pentagram City, one of his main sources of power," Jericho answered confidently.

Harrison creased his eyebrows before pushing off the desk. Putting his hands behind his back, he said, "Well, at least you are paying attention."

"I wasn't paying attention," Jericho thought, "That's a point you always bring up in your little rants."

Suddenly, the door to the classroom was opened. A tiger demon in a black suit walked in. "Excuse me, sir," he said to Harrison, "but the Marquis is calling for his son."

"Tell the Marquis I'm busy with my studies," Jericho said quickly.

The guard and Harrison looked stunned. The guard groaned, "Please don't play this game, sir. You know your father doesn't-"

"You're right," Jericho snapped, "I do know my father. Now please, go and tell him."

The guards slumped his shoulders and he left with a quick bow. Harrison sat at his desk and said, "Master Jericho, I wish you wouldn't be like this. You know your father can't-"

This time, Jericho interrupted by holding his finger up. He knew what was going to happen and he counted on it. After a few minutes, Jericho's hellphone rang. Smiling, Jericho answered, "Hey, Dad."

A deep, gravelly voice answered, "Don't 'hey, Dad,' me. You know I hate talking on this thing."

Jericho shook his head, "I know, Dad, but you need to step into the 21st century. We've had hellphones for years. It's time you learned how to use one. I'm just trying to help you."

Naberius chuckled, "I keep forgetting that you get your mother's stubborn kind of help."

Jericho gave a small laugh himself, "Yeah, Mom always knew what someone needed whether they wanted it or not. Anyway, what's up?"

Naberius said, "I've called you and your brothers to the throne room. I need to tell everyone else what we talked about."

Jericho felt the bottom of his stomach drop. He said, "Are you sure you can't tell them later? Like after I leave?"

"I do wish I could do that son," Naberius said, "but this decision affects the whole castle. They need to be told and you need to be there."

Jericho sighed. He knew his father wouldn't want to put him in this situation, but he had no choice. Jericho said, "Sure thing, Dad. I'm on my way."

Standing, he turned to Harrison saying, "Sorry to leave, Harrison, but Dad wants me."

Harrison shook his head, "I wish you'd speak to your father with more respect."

"I speak to him with love and that counts more," Jericho said.

Jericho left the classroom and headed towards his room. He knew this was an important talk and decided to show up wearing more than a red t-shirt and worn out bluejeans. Quickly changing into a formal blue shirt, black jacket and pants with black dress shoes, he made his way towards the throne room. Normal families had family meetings in their living room or kitchen. For his family, they had royal discussions in their throne room with as much pomp and circumstance you'd imagine. He stood outside the door and waited to be called in. He took a moment to preen himself a little more before nodding to the guard. The guard nodded back, turned, and knocked on the door. When it opened, Jericho slowly walked inside. He looked up at where the four thrones sat and saw his father and step mothers. In the front on a lower step was three small thrones with only two people sitting in them.

On the right was Evelyn Goetia, who proudly sat up straight with her break almost pointing straight up. The Dove demon wore an elegant black dress that contrasted her pure white feathers and a small tiara set upon her head with an emerald set in its center. She held a small decorative fan closed in her hands, as if ready to use it to hit someone. Her almost cruel stare followed Jericho into the center of the room. He remembered his father telling him she was arranged to marry him as a peace offering.

On the left was Diane Goetia, whose brown dress was more of a set of light armor. The breastplate was adorned with her ancestral crest, a falcon soldier in red and gold leaf standing with a spear. Her feathers each had a touch of red on the ends. The Falcon demon's very presence seemed threatening, as if she was ready to swing her trusty sword at a moment's notice. Diane's cold, calculating eyes were also on Jericho, her talons clutched the armrests of her throne. He knew Diane hated him and why, so he tried not to shrink in her gaze. Jericho was sure that his father regretted marrying her, even if her family's lands were a necessary trade route during the war that needed protection. While Evelyn could be kind when the situation warranted it, Diane was always a heartless woman who didn't care for anyone except herself.

Jericho stood before his stepmothers and looked up behind them. Sitting in a large throne a step above his wives was Marquis Naberius. He wore a white formal dress shirt with a blue jacket with a black belt to close it's his waist. Two out of his three dog heads were facing front, their black ears and brown eyes at attention. The middle head however had his ears down with a sad look in his eyes, staring at the empty throne in the center. His third and most cherished wife was Melissa. She had loved him before she ever knew who he was, unlike his other wives she married him for love.

Jericho smiled and nodded to his father who did so back. Suddenly, the doors opened again and this time two demons came in together. Looking over his shoulder, Jericho wasn't surprised to see his brothers, but was surprised at what they were wearing.

Quentin was decked out in his full suit of armor. The shiny steel armor almost clung to his massive form. Obsidian gems lined the arms while gleaming rubies sat on the knuckles of his gloves. The chest plate was polished to silvery perfection. Under his arm, he carried a gleaming helmet with red and gold painted feathers on top. "Thank Satan he was smart enough to hold his helmet," Jericho thought.

Jericho was holding back laughter which became harder when he looked at what his other brother, Xavier, was wearing. He looked like he had walked out of a painting of ancient Italy. He had on a royal blue vest and shirt, with a brown satchel hanging off his side. He had a plumed cap sitting on the side of his head while holding a small red book. The Dove demon wore his glasses on the tip of his beak, barely staying on since he had his head bowed in reverence.

Once all three brothers stood before their parents, they knelt on one knee. Together, they asked, "You sent for us, Father?"

Naberius nodded and said, "I did. Rise my sons. I have news for you."

Jericho braced himself for the inevitable shitstorm. He knew it was coming, but he had hoped he wouldn't be here for it.

Naberius said, "I've decided that soon I will stand down as Marquis. The weight on my heart is too heavy to rule properly."

Diane and Evelyn clenched slightly. The prideful women wanted to scream and shout, but duty came first so they stayed quiet.

"All of you have shown tremendous skill in ruling one aspect of our kingdom." Naberius continued, "Quentin, I don't know the methods you are using to train our men, but moral and discipline seem better. Good work, my son."

Quentin's swollen chest almost burst through his armor. There was a good reason everything was going better. Quentin's training included him beating a random subordinate half to death and threatening everyone else with similar "training accidents." His father would punish Quentin severely if he knew, but as Quentin himself would say, "What the old dog doesn't know won't hurt me."

"Xavier, the people are safe and relations with our neighbors are at their best. Thank you for your good work," Naberius said.

Xavier bowed at his waist, causing his glasses to fall off his beak. Fluttering quickly, he caught them before they hit the floor. Jericho felt sick watching him because he knew it was all an act. Xavier prided himself in his acting. Playing a careless fool made spying and negotiation easy. The target would lower their guard enough for Xavier to strike. Using his helpless disguise, Xavier could learn and use everything against his target. Xavier had most of the surrounding nobles in his pocket. As for the citizens, they were no better off than they were. Xavier's new police force was closer to a street mob. Enforcing bogus laws and assaulting witnesses to their crimes. Xavier made sure that he also had a tight lease on his new pets. "Through bribes or blackmail, everyone will kneel," he would say.

Naberius smiled and said, "And you, Jericho. Despite your lack of control over your powers your work on keeping the castle's magic defences up has kept us all safe. I'm proud of you, my son."

Jericho smiled back. His magical powers were great, but controlling them was still an issue. Any spell he tried would take way more concentration than it should. A simple fire ball would eat most of his energy. Stolas told him it was a conflict between his mind and his heart, but that couldn't be it. He wanted to help his father with all his heart and soul. Of course, it wasn't his magic that was his problem right now. It was what he knew his father would say next.

He brought it on himself. He knew that. He'd begged his father for months to make it happen. He just hoped he would say yes and leave it at that, not make it a public announcement. It must have been that vindictive bitch Evelyn who convinced his father to do this in open court.

"One day, I will choose one of you to lead. The other two will act as his advisers," Naberius said to his sons, "Quentin and Xavier, you both have done exceptional work and I expect great things from you both. Now you, Jericho,"

"Here it comes," Jericho thought.

"To help you improve your magical skills, I've decided to send you to live with Prince Stolas," Naberius said, slamming the last nail into Jericho's coffin.

Quentin almost dropped his helmet and Xavier's composure was ruffled. Jericho could almost feel their glares. Those two had always hated Jericho. He knew he should've asked his father to let him leave first. As it was, he was sure he'd get it eventually.

Evelyn stood and said, "Don't you dare think this is a vacation. We are expecting progress. If the prince tells us you have been slacking off, you will be punished. Do not disappoint us, mongrel."

"Evelyn!"

She turned and glared at her husband. She huffed, raised her beak into the air, and left the room. Diane almost followed, but was more honorable and decided to support her husband's decision even if she didn't like it. Naberius watched as his first wife left. He had a feeling she'd be angry, but not like this. Both his wives were always telling him he favored Jericho, that he loved him more than his other sons. That wasn't true. He loved all his children equally. They were also jealous of his love for Melissa, his third wife. They had hated her when she was alive and they hated her now that she was gone. Of course, it wasn't just the love he had for Melissa that made them hate her. It was also the fact she wasn't like them at all. She was poor. She was common. She was a hellhound.

Naberius looked at Jericho and briefly thought about how much he looked like his mother. He was tall with coal gray fur covering most of him. His muzzle and underbelly were a lighter grey with flecks of black around. His red eyes shone against the darkness of his fur. Like most hellhounds, Jericho was slim and quick on his feet which he'd proven more then once in his sword training. He knew Jericho could be a great leader, but he lacked the ambition to lead and rule. He supposed Jericho was still grieving for his mother like he was.

Naberius said, " While I disagree with her phrasing, your stepmother is telling the truth. We will be in contact with you and Prince Stolas about your progress. You may leave whenever you'd like. I wish you luck, my son. You all may go now."

The brothers bowed and left the throne room together. As they left, Diane turned to Naberius and said, "I don't see why you're still babying that hellhound, Naberius. My mother forced my siblings to fight to survive for years before she'd even acknowledge us as her own."

"That's why you're an only child now," Naberius said, walking towards the door himself.

Diane huffed, "My brother Hector and I set an example for our younger siblings. If they were too weak to meet it, it would hardly be our fault."

"And when you and Hector dueled for the right to marry, I'm sure you took it as a sign of weakness when he refused to fight you? You couldn't let a little thing like familial love get in the way of strength, am I right, dear?"

Diane didn't answer. She turned away from her husband as he left. Naberius slowly walked towards his room, wondering what to do to please his wives. He rarely ever saw his second wife happy unless she was in battle. Her bloodlust would never be quenched. Her military mind and cold blooded tactics had been useful once, but now that things have calmed some, she can get very annoying. Evelyn at least had hobbies and things to do around the castle. Her beautiful paintings lined most of the halls and her bed chamber. She even socialized with other royals and had many friends. It seemed her home life was what troubled her. Naberius wondered if he truly was a failure as a husband and a father and if his sons had similar problems he didn't know about.

Meanwhile, Jericho was scurrying to grab everything he could. The second he and his brothers had left the throne room, he'd bolted for his room. It surprised him that Quentin hadn't tried to catch him, but that didn't matter now. He just wanted to grab what he could, knowing his brothers would destroy anything he left. Satisfied with his triple check of the room, Jericho pulled out his hellphone and dialed. He hoped he could escape without dealing with whatever his brothers had planned for him. Soon enough, Stolas answered with a cheery, "Hello, Jeri! How has your day been?"

"I'll be much better Uncle Stolas if you'd open a portal and get me outta here," Jericho said quickly.

"Very well, my boy," Stolas said, "Just head to the castle gardens and I'll open the portal there."

Jericho felt his heart stop. "The gardens?" He asked, "Can't you open it in my room"

Stolas said, "Well, no. The protection spells on the castle are too strong for any kind of transportation magic. You need to be just outside their circle for me to open a portal."

Jericho signed. He looked out his door to see if anyone was outside. He said, "Okay, Uncle Stolas. I'm in my room now. Can you get the portal ready before I reach the gardens? I want to leave ASAP."

"I don't understand your rush, but all right. I'll have it ready before you arrive," Stolas said, "See you soon, Jeri."

Jericho hung up his phone and braised himself. Xavier and Quinten were sure to try and catch him before he left. If he was quiet enough and quick enough, he could make a beeline for the gardens. Grabbing his bags, he left his room and headed down the hall. He slowly made his way downstairs into the den. He knew he could reach the gardens through there by cutting through the dining hall. Looking around, he made a run for it. Past the arm chairs in the den, over the tables and chairs of the dining hall, out the large glass door onto the elevated deck, and towards the gardens. And there it was, an open portal to Stolas's home, a portal to freedom. Running as fast as he could with his bags, Jericho was sure he'd made it! Until…

"Gah!" Jericho yelled. Something had grabbed him by the shoulders with razor sharp talons and was carrying him upward. He looked up and shouted, "Dammit, Quentin! Put me down!"

The Falcon demon had taken off his armor and was now wearing what he'd had on before his father's summons, a grey hoodie with no sleeves with black denim pants. Quinten smirked. He said, "If you're sure, mutt, here."

And he let Jericho go...several stories above the ground! Jericho screamed! He started to try to work his magic. Pulse magic to break his fall? The shockwave could kill him. Wind magic to slow his descent? A gust strong enough to save him would more than likely rip him to shreds. Try to aim for the portal and hope for the best? FUCK! Jericho couldn't think! He flailed his arms, trying desperately to maybe summon some wings like his father. Just as the ground was getting close, Quinten caught him, steadied him, dropped him into one of Xavier's rose bushes. Jericho screamed again as he tumbled deep into the bushes. The thorns hurt like Hell, but at least he was alive. He suddenly heard someone talking. "Oh, look. A dirty stray has wandered into my rose bush," the voice said.

Jericho groaned as he slowly pulled himself from the bush.

Xaiver had also changed his clothes. He was now wearing a button up black shirt with black dress pants, his glasses now pushed high into his beak. He was sitting in a deck chair doodling in his little red book. "It's a shame, really. I had thought you would be house trained by now, dog," he said, not even looking up from his doodling.

Pulling free from the bush, Jericho growled, "Fuck you, Xavier."

"Hey, that's no way to talk to a future Marquis," Quinten said, slapping his arm around Jericho's shoulder. He walked them closer to Xavier, saying "It's that right, future Marquis Xavier?"

Xavier looked up to Quentin, "Oh yes, future Marquis Quinten. As one future Marquis to another, we should show some respect to one another. Isn't that right, future Marquis Jericho?"

Jericho lowered his head, "I've told you both a hundred times I don't want to be the Marquis! Hell, Quentin's the oldest! He should be the heir."

"Then why bother with this training father's having Prince Stolas give you?" Xavier asked, "If he's not training you to be the next Marquis, then what is it? Fetching a stick? Rolling over? Holding still while he balances a hot dog on your nose?"

Jericho tried to pull himself from Quentin's grip, but as he did Quentin said, "Oh, I think I know one we can help teach him. Playing dead!"

Suddenly, Quentin swung his fist hard into Jericho's stomach. Jericho fell to the ground hacking and coughing, the wind completely knocked out of him. Two swift kicks followed into Jericho's lower back. As he wheezed and coughed, Jericho suddenly felt a clawed foot on the side of his head.

"Yeah, that's where you belong, mutt. On the ground kissing our feet," Quentin said.

There was a sound of paper ripping and Jericho looked up. In his face was a drawing of Naberius, walking Jericho on a leash. Jericho glared up at Xavier. Xavier smiled and said, "Regardless of the reason, it seems the old man has decided he doesn't need a pet anymore. So take the hint."

He crumpled the picture and threw it in Jericho's face, "Don't bother coming back."

Xavier turned and walked back towards the castle. Quentin lifted his foot from Jericho's head and laughed. He turned towards Jericho's bags and picked up a shovel that one of the gardeners had left out. Jericho tried to stop him, but he was still too weak to stand. Quentin swung the shovel over and over again, breaking everything he could in the bags. Once he was satisfied with the damage, he turned to Jericho and laughed again. He too left towards the house. Jericho slowly made his way to one of the bags. He unzipped it and ruffled around inside. He pulled out a broken picture frame. He was relieved the picture inside it wasn't damaged. The picture was of himself as a baby in the arms of his mother, Melissa. She was smiling wide holding him close. Behind her was Naberius in his three headed dog form, all three heads smiling wide. They were dressed in royal clothes, but Jericho remembered his mother never liked dressing up like that. This picture was special though. It was taken on Jericho's first birthday. Jericho felt tears grow in his eyes as he remembered his mother. Her kind words, her loving hugs, and even her occasional angry outburst. He missed her so much. Part of him wondered what she'd think of him now, a living doormat for his brothers.

Wiping away the tears in his eyes, Jericho pulled the picture from the frame. He tossed the frame aside and folded up the picture. He zipped up the bag and stood. He brushed himself off, picked up his bags, and made his way towards the portal. He worried a little about his broken things, but he was sure Stolas had some kind of mending spell….or at least glue. He looked at the castle once last time. He sighed and thought, "Well, I guess this is goodbye."

Jericho turned and walked through the portal. He found himself standing in Stolas's front hall. He called out, "Hello?"

"Ah, Jeri!" Stolas said, coming in from another room, "I was wondering what was keeping you. How-Good Gracious! Jeri, what's happened to you?!"

Stolas ran towards his nephew and looked over his scraps and cuts. Jericho said, "I had a run in with an angry rose bush."

Stolas raised an eyebrow, "A rose bush? Unless they're carnivorous, roses aren't known for their predatory nature. What happened?"

Jericho shrugged, "Nothing. I just fell in."

Stolas scowled, but didn't press further. Having dealt with Octavia's stubborn teenage quiet, he knew better then to try to force it out of him."All right, let's get you patched up. You can leave your bags there. They'll be brought up to your room. Diner should be ready soon."

Jericho followed Stolas out of the main hall. As he walked, Jericho smiled and thought, "Things are already starting to look up."

Meanwhile, in Imp City, another hellhound was having different thoughts.

"SHIT! PISS! COCK! FUCK!"

Loona wasn't happy at all. Well, she normally wasn't but this was different. She'd been left at the I.M.P. office…. AGAIN! She stomped around the office, flinging chairs everywhere. Why the fuck did the need her there anyway? Receptionist, shit. That's what answering machines and voice mail are for! They didn't fucking need to keep her here! She could go with them and kill some fuckers! They could open the portals in the Human world so they didn't need a babysitter to open them here in Hell. So, why wouldn't Blitzo let her go? She'd shown him she could be useful during Spring Break! So why won't...

Loona put down the chair in her hands and sat in it. She laid her head down on the table and sighed. She knew why she wasn't allowed to come with them. That stupid shit that happened at Spring Break. Fuck! Four months ago and she was still kicking herself over it. She'd made such an ass out of herself, drooling over Vortex and stumbling over her words like a fucking tweeny bitch...And….well...maybe it also had something to do with what she'd said to Blitzo on the beach. As overprotective Blitzo was, he really did care for Loona. She thought when he first adopted her he was going to try to make her a pet or sex slave, but he really just wanted a daughter. He never tried any creepy sex shit or anything else she expected. She never really got why he chose her, but she was grateful to him. He made sure she had food and a home. He let her go out and do whatever she wanted as long as she let him know about it. Blitzo even gave her the job in the first place. Thinking farther back on that day, she did almost call Blitzo "dad." After just a few short years, was she really starting to think of him as her father?

Suddenly, her hellphone rang. Loona answered, "Yeah, Blitzo?"

"OPEN THE PORTAL! OPEN THE PORTAL! OPEN! THE! PORTAL!" came the frantic screams of Blitzo.

Growling at her ear being screamed into, but moving quickly nonetheless, Loona snatched up the grimoire and opened it. Quickly, she opened the portal and Blitzo, Millie, and Moxxie dove in followed by a hail of bullets. Loona quickly closed the portal as the angry yelling of men grew closer. She looked over their latest disguises and chuckled. They were all wearing Hawaiin shirts with Khaki pants and sun hats. Loona walked over to Blitzo's prone figure, "So, didja get him?"

Blitzo quickly stood up and began brushing himself off. "Well, of course we got em Loony," Blitzo said, "What else do you expect but perfection with my plans."

"Oh, I don't know, sir," Moxxie said, standing up from the floor and helping Millie up with him, "Maybe next time we can get ALL the target's guards to try and kill us at once?!"

Millie began straightening Moxxie's bowtie, saying "Now Mox, it wasn't that bad. We took out most of them before they regrouped."

Blitzo said, "Yeah, Mox. Genius doesn't have a liner plan. Gotta think outside the box sometimes. Good ideas alone don't make a plan perfect."

"Dressing up as lost tourists and trying to get into a Columbian drug lords compound was NOT A GOOD IDEA!" Moxxie screamed.

"Well, it was my idea for you to throw that grenade belt you grabbed," Blitzo said, a smug smile on his face as he tossed off his sun hat.

Moxxie replied, "You were complaining that I grabbed in the first place, sir."

"Well, yeah, cause we didn't need it at the time. Jeez, try to keep up, Mox. Your tard brain is giving me a headache."

"My what now?" Moxxie asked.

"Aw, fuck it, Moxxie. Figure it out yourself," Blitzo huffed and turned to Millie, "You still got it, Mills?"

"Right here, boss!" said Millie, reaching into her pocket and pulling something out. She tossed it at Blitzo and he caught it with ease.

He looked at the solid gold tie clip with the engraving, MDR, and smiled, "One tie clip equals proof of dead target ads 20% to our price! Base mathematics."

Moxxie looked at his wife who looked just as confused. Shaking his head, Moxxie asked, "Shall I call the client, sir?"

"Naw, Moxxie, I'll take care of it." Blitzo said, turning to Loona.

He asked, "Any calls, Loonie?"

The hellhound shrugged her shoulders and said, "Not one, Blitzo."

"All righty! It's just about quitting time anyway, so you guys can head home. I got some shit I wanna wrap up around here so you guys can borrow my van. Just be sure to leave it with a full tank." Blitzo said, smiling.

"Your gas tank is empty, sir. That's why we all took the bus to work today," Moxxie said, clearly not in the mood for anymore of Blitzo's BS.

"Fuckin shit, Moxxie, I gotta explain gas stations to you too?" Blitzo grumbled.

Moxxie was about to shout, but Millie stepped in, "We'll just take the bus again, Blitzo. Mox and I got plans at home tonight."

Moxxie smiled at his wife as they walked towards the door. Blitzo quickly ran up behind them and pulled them to him.

"Oh, great!" Blitzo said, excitedly, "So, what's on the schedule for tonight?"

"Nothing that has anything to do with you, sir," Moxxie said, pushing Blitzo off him and Millie.

Millie waved at Loona and said, "See ya, Loona! Have fun at that hound party on Saturday!"

"HOUND PARTY?!" Blitzo shouted, turning to Loona, "What fuckin hound party?"

Loona looked scared for a split second before growling at Millie. Millie smiled and flipped her off as she and Moxxie left. Moxxie kissed his brilliant wife on the cheek as the door closed. Loona huffed and said, " It's just a party, Blitzo. I've gone to hundreds before and you didn't get this pissed."

"But at this party you could be passed around like a bad joint. I don't want that to happen to you!" Blitzo angrily said.

Loona groaned and ran her hand through her hair, "It's not a gang bang, Blitzo. It's just a bunch of hell hounds getting together to drink and hangout."

Blitzo scowled, "Is that guy, Vortex, gonna be there?"

Loona growled, "I told you before he's got a girlfriend! He's not interested in me. Vortex just wants me to make friends."

Blitzo scoffed, "Oh, yeah. 'Friends' with other boys maybe."

"For fuck's sake, Blitzo! It's not like you've never gone out clubbing!" Loona shouted, "I mean, that shit you're doing is getting ready for a date, isn't it?"

Blitzo paled a bit there. He stammered, "Uh, what the fuck do you mean? I d-don't have uh a date tonight."

Loona laughed, "I heard you talking on the phone after lunch. "Oh, I can't wait till tonight.' 'I really hope you like this place I picked out.' So, which is it, guy or girl?"

Blitzo's anger came back and he stomped off toward his office. He turned and said, "I'll see you later, Loona."

Loona realized she'd gone too far this time. She tried to apologize, but Blitzo slammed the door to his office before she even got a word out. Groaning at her own stupidity, she grabbed her things and headed for the door. She started texting Octavia to see how she was doing. Since she met her before the Loo Loo Land incident, Octavia had been a good friend. She stopped mid-text. She started thinking about that hound party. Maybe Vortex was right. Maybe she needed some new friends.

End of Chapter 1.