This is Sacagawea. Here, the Mormons are a superpower.


Ah, the Mexican archipelago... The populations of some of these islands is insane. A lot of Mormons are worried that the Latinx race will soon become strong enough to challenge the Mormon hegemony.

But then, of course, they would stand a bigger chance if there was a bit more unity between their states...

This is Tlaxcala Island. It's the smallest island in the archipelago. Like many of its neighbors, it's an elective monarchy. Its first royal family was Riojan Spanish.

These days, it's Andalusian. And this is the family's matriarch: Romana Concepcion. Queen Romana wears a lot of red, and keeps a lot of mirrors in her royal chambers.

Outside, the straits' waves beat against both the sandy and rocky island shores. The royal estate has both kinds overlooking the straits.

On the estate, shrubs of roses grow...and roses-of-Sharon...and Tecoma stans...and Mexican petunias...and Turk's caps...and calla lilies... All in all, this landscaping has been made to look, and be, very Mexican.

Overhead, flocks of green parrots often fly in V-shaped formations. That is NOT a very common sight in Deseret...


From the strait, a dove surfaces. Or rather, it isn't so much a dove as it is her Elected Highness, Huera Concepcion, princess of Tlaxcala. She's all wet. She is, however, in a dove-white bikini...which looks VERY good on her. She bears much of the likeness of Jessica Alba 1994.

As she approaches the shore, she rises. As she flaps her hair, she sheds a lot of water all over the surface. She just loves going into the blue. She loves to fantasize that she's diving with nurse and tiger sharks for treasure, off the Bahamian coast...

Within the hacienda, her mother calls her. She moans, grabs a towel on her way up the stone stairs to the back patio, dries her gorgeous ass off, and attends to her mother's demands...whatever they are.

She swears that her mother becomes a bigger and bigger bitch by the year. Too bad elected monarchs don't have term limits.

Gently, the cloak of night settles over the estate. From the straits, the evening tide rises. With it, it brings in a burglar of sorts; an enemy of the Concepcion family fortune...

In the side of a rocky cliff, there's a trap door. It never gets used. Few know of its existence. Few can access its existence.

Below, there are sharp rocks. As of now, the evening tide keeps them submerged. Not even a barbary sheep would try to access that trap door.

Like I said, however, the tide has brought in a burglar. In little else but black swim trunks, he ascends the height. He's all wet. From the straits, the tide's huge waves splash up against his back side, and soak him.

Up from the tide, it's a long way up. Reed can't say he's too comfortable with heights. But that's not to say he can't think of less forgiving terrors...

Below, the sharp rocks get farther and farther away. Reed is SO close to his demise, at all times. Again, these rocks are very hard to ascend. Right now, Reed is the envy of most barbary sheep...if a barbary ram would ever want to break into a royal family's treasure room.

At last, Reed's found it. He's still all wet, but he expects that to change.

The trap door is sealed with an old-fashioned lock. No need for anything higher-tech; Reed might as well be the first burglar to break in. It takes a while for Reed to pick it...but he does.

Once he has, he opens the trap door, and crawls into the tunnel that lies beyond. He's sure he'll meet a lot of more dangerous traps along the way. But Reed is intuitive; he's prepared for anything and everything he has and hasn't seen in an Indiana Jones movie, a Relic Hunter episode, or a Tomb Raider video game.

Interesting; only one of the above is a man...