"I'm Reformed."
Clark had always enjoyed reading. There was just something peaceful about a good book. In his youth, he absorbed books like a sponge to water. Fictional stories were always his favorite. Science fiction and fantasy tales about heroes and villains, monsters and aliens, and other stories made to amaze their audience. As fiction became a reality, he strove to learn more about the world around him, even dipping his head into psychology after his meeting with Dr. Quinzel.
Sadly, today's reading was not for entertainment. Instead he was reading up on hyenas and how best to raise them. Such a topic was rather difficult to find research on, but a quick visit to the Metropolis Zoo did offer a plethora of advice and notes to consider. He finished reading the book's passage, before holding his other hand up. The bag dripped with crimson as he waved it side to side.
"Bud! Lou! Dinner time!" Despite the Apokolips bomb rendering them near deaf, they did seem to respond during the rare times they heard him. Even if they couldn't hear him, they'd catch the aroma of fresh meat.
While the idea of holding a deceased animal's flesh still left him uncomfortable, it was something he had gotten used to. The alien creatures he had welcomed into his Fortress were his responsibility now, and he'd be darned if he'd let any of them starve because he felt squeamish. He ensured that he had a way to acquire meat for the carnivores without hassle. The farmers and ranchers of Smallville were a great help, happily offering extra beef to him when he explained his plight.
Like clockwork, he heard the familiar yipping and laughter from the two hyenas. They ran over the stone and dirt terrain towards their new owner, before they began to beg for their meal, whining and bending their heads down as they looked up at their new owner.
"No need to beg, you two. Here." Clark dumped the contents of the bag onto the ground and watched the two hyenas go to work, happily munching and tearing at the meat. His face grimaced as he glanced away, trying to avoid the sight as the sound of torn flesh echoed in his ears.
He thanked his mother and father a dozen times over for helping him master self control. Just the smell of raw meat would have probably overpowered him. Instead he focused his mind on distractions, mental fantasies that worked to keep his senses off the long-dead cow.
He imagined his family's farm and the cool scent of dew in the morning, or the fresh, cool odor of rain from a storm. He could smell the electricity in the air, how it made everything stand on edge as thunder clapped. He'd always hear the crackling buildup of a charge, long, long before he saw lighting. He smelled his mother's strawberry pies, cooked to perfection. The scents and sounds of Smallville carried his mind further away from his surroundings. He smelled his father's colonge, and he smelled his mother's delicious cooking.
He smelled something else. Something sweet in the air, almost fruity. It tickled his nostrils, just acidic to tingle his senses. Her perfume, strawberries mixed with watermelon, wafting in the air...
Clark sighed, brought back to reality as he crouched down to pet the two hyenas. They were too focused on their meal to even acknowledge him now, but he still spoke to them like he did any with any pet under his care.
"No fighting you two. There's plenty for both of you, and I can get more from the freezers whenever I need to. You don't need to fight for your share anymore."
When he adopted the two creatures, he'd found several signs of abuse on them. Coarse scars soiled their soft skin, and bits of fur refused to grow back from the tender flesh. He shuddered to imagine the torture Joker put these two through. Did Harley even know? She seemed to care so much for Bud and Lou, yet she allowed them to be treated like this?
The young woman had been brought to Stryker's Island Penitentiary less than a week ago, and so far the doctors had been struggling with her. He focused his hearing, sharpening it like a knife as he pushed his senses beyond the the laughter of Bud and Lou. His ignored the mechanical whirring of the Superman Robots, past the cold, arctic winds that pounded against the Fortress, over the raging sea, until he was practically in Metropolis.
He heard zooming cars, the night life active and in its' prime, a bank heist being foiled by Steel, before finally reaching Stryker's. The island prison was home to some of his greatest enemies, but it also contained many incarcerated men and women just looking to do their time. He moved past the doctors and guards, until finally he found Dr. Quinzel's voice.
"My puddin' is gonna come and he's gonna blow all your brains out if you don't let me out! You hear me?! He's gonna kill all of yous, and then-"
Not much change there, he sighed. He pulled his senses back and laid a hand on Bud, gently petting the hyena's head as he lamented. "It's been days, and all she does is scream at the doctors and talk about Joker. I know it's foolish to expect her to recover in an instant, but... I guess I was just being hopeful." Bud raised his head to look at the Man of Steel, blood stains around his muzzle as he stared. Without a single noise he began to nuzzle against Superman's hand. The sensation of fur being dragged against his skin tickled Clark, and he smiled in gratitude. "Thanks. Maybe what Harley needs is a friend? Maybe one that used to believe in her, and still does..."
Bud licked Superman's palm, before turning and walking away with Lou following behind him. Both of them seemed to have lost interest in Superman now that the meal was finished, but he wasn't offended. In fact, he was smiling.
This looks like a job for Clark Kent.
Metropolis was often thought of as the City of Tomorrow, a place of progress and equality that was meant to help light up the world. The presence of Superman only furthered that belief. Stryker's Island was the blemish to that idea of perfection, and yet Clark had never hated or looked down upon the place. In a way, there was no better place to find the core of Metropolis than Styker's. Styker's was meant to punish the guilty, but also heal the broken and lost. He liked to think it wasn't because of Superman that the prison had such a success rate with rehabilitation, but rather it was the kindness and genuine compassion that all humans had.
Her face didn't have a trace of makeup, and Clark could see even more of the doctor he met in her face. Yet it still seemed impossible that the two were one and the same. His eyes glanced over her, catching and framing her bone structure within a nanosecond. He saw into the very structure of her cells, gazed into her very anatomy, and yet he still found himself staring at a puzzle. Harley Quinn honestly looked more like Harleen's younger sister, than the doctor herself.
Then he heard her heartbeat, and he knew Harleen was sitting in front of him, and whether she knew it or not, he was going to help her.
"Hello, Harley."
"Ehh... What's up, doc?" she greeted, leaning back in her chair. "Whose the stiff? My lawyer?"
"May I?" Clark whispered, motioning to the chair across from Harley. Dr. Leland nodded her head, and he sat across from the cuffed woman. "Hello, Harley. My name is Clark Kent."
"Clark Kent...? I know that name..." Harleen's finger tapped at her chin as her eyes rose up to the ceiling. "Clark Kent... Clark... Kent... Did we used to date in college?"
"You really don't remember me, do you?" He knew this was a possibility. He tried not to let the disappointment show on his face as he placed his briefcase down onto the table. Harley just seemed to roll his eyes at him, before yawning.
"Sorry, chubs, guess you just got one a' those faces. Y'know, one of those totally forgettable, blasé kinda faces." she mocked, looking down on the young man.
"Is that so? Then maybe I can help you remember. You had your hair tied up in a bun when you last saw me." Harley raised her brow, before tapping her chin again. "Glasses on." He motioned to his own as Harley made glasses out of her fingers, looking through them as she scrutinized the reporter. "And you wore a doctor's coat."
"We meet on Halloween or somethin'?"
"No, actually. It was just a few months ago?" He never lost the small smile on his face. Hopeful, though some would call it naive, that he could rekindle even a trace of her memory. "I was the reporter you spoke to, Dr. Quinzel?" The name seemed to trigger something in her. He could see her brow wrinkle as a spark burned in her cyan eyes. Anger...? Maybe she hasn't forgotten me.
"Heh." And in an instant, her anger was washed away, replaced by a toothy, wide smile. "Nice try, four-eyes. I see what you're tryin' to do. I may look like a supermodel, but I got brains to go with my looks." Clark could see her contain and control herself. It seems he had to push harder.
"Oh, I know. It's just a shame Joker doesn't seem to."
"Excuse you?" Her grin vanished again, replaced only with fury and indignation.
"Joker. He doesn't seem to respect you, or even like you, yet you seem to-"
"Don't you dare talk like you know my Puddin'! Or me!" she growled, earning a glare from the guard behind her.
"Down, inmate!"
"But I do know you, Harleen. You were scared because your co-workers didn't believe in you. You wanted to help people, heal their minds! You believed in-" He stopped, not because of the glare Harley gave him or because of the sound of her racing heart. It was the lack of sound.
Clark had lived with his powers since he was a child, and one of the hardest things to master was sound. The hum of electricity coursing through wires had been a song he'd listened to since his powers manifested. The tiny crackle he heard when his alarm needed the tiniest boost of electricity to sound the alarm always woke him up sooner than the alarm itself. This also gave him the unique gift to hear a blackout before he could see it.
And all around him, he heard the void electricity left. His eyes widened, before darkness blanketed the room.
"What's happening?!" Dr. Leland gasped.
"C-calm down, doc! Probably just a slight malfunc-ACK!" The guard was down. A single blow to his throat knocked him down, before another blow left him unconcious.
The hum of electricity returned, and the lights flickered back on, but it was too late. The inmates had the moment they needed. It was like a rising crescendo as metal was ripped apart and doors were broken down. The whirring sound of John Corben, aka Metallo's, limbs stretching. The gluttonous groan of Rudy Jones, the Parasite. The mocking laughter of Winslow Schott, the Toyman.
Then his ears twitched, and he realized there were threats far closer to him. Like Volcana melting her inhibitor collar off, before doing the same to her cell door, or Silver Banshee incapacitating several guards with a sonic scream. His eyes turned forward as the lights illuminated the room once more, revealing Harley Quinn with her collar off and a gun aimed at the two of them. She stood on the table, one hand holding the gun, the other holding her unlocked cuffs. She smirked at the reporter and doctor, licking her ruby lips with glee as the guard lay behind her.
"Well, well, well. Looks like my Puddin's here to save me! Sorry, doc, but I'm out of here! As for you, four-eyes, see ya in the funny pages!"
Clark watched as the slide of the gun moved back. His eyes narrowed as he moved, standing up from his chair and moving towards Leland. The hard part was moving just slow enough to be seen as a human adrenaline rush, rather than the solar-powered speed his genetics gifted him with.
Clark could hear the bullet (relatively) slowly moving in the barrel of the gun. He could feel the slight heat in the air as the soundwave touched his skin. The gunpowder ignited as he moved in front of the doctor, who was just now realizing what Harley was doing. Her eyes widened in horror, before squeezing shut as she seemed to accept her fate with a racing heart. Clark could smell the gunpowder as the bullet shot out of the cartridge, moving down the barrel. By the time the spiral grooves inside the gun touched the bullet, he was already in front of the doctor, pretending to cower in front of Harley.
All of this occurred in less than a second. He only hoped there wouldn't be any questions as Clark watched the bullet cut through the air towards him and the doctor. Harley jumped off the table, already expecting them to die as she raced towards the exit. The bullet was nearing them, but Clark opened his mouth slightly and blew through the small hole between his lips. The push was just enough to move the bullet, sending it flying into the ground beside his foot. It hit the ground, ricocheting off of it and into the wall, before falling harmlessly onto the ground.
"Are you okay, doctor?"
"W-what happened?" Dr. Leland asked, shaking as Clark turned to her.
"Adrenaline rush... The bullet almost hit us, but looks like we were lucky," he replied. "Is your office close?"
"Y-yeah...?"
"Good. Stay here, and lay low. It's chaos out there. Once it's safe, go to your office and get to safety. You and the guard," he commanded, motioning to the guard behind them who was beginning to come to.
"What? What about you?"
"I'm going to... uh... get help. Just stay here, okay?" Clark mentally kicked himself for such a weak excuse, but he could already hear Harley running off, unloading her gun into several guards. No one dead yet, but I need to move. With a flick of his hand, the lights in the room turned off and Clark slipped out the door, leaving the guard and doctor alone in the dark. He prayed they would get out of this safely as he looked around, eyes peering through the stone and metal walls of Stryker's.
The entire prison was in chaos. Prisoners were attacking the confused guards as security measures failed to operate. Doors were unlocked and automated defenses froze as the prisoners stormed the men and women of the facility. To make matters worse, dozens of metahumans were now prowling the halls of the prison, with many now racing to the female section of the complex.
The prison was in chaos. No place to change. I need to work fast to try and control the situation. Going to need help. Clark's finger tapped his ear, activating the communicator hidden within. The device hummed to life, sending out a signal as Clark ran down the hall. His foot landed on a piece of debris, and he stumbled, and with a bit of superstrength, the rock shot off to knock out an inmate holding a large chunk of stone over their head.
The woman fell, dropping the stone on top of herself and saving the innocent guard in front of her.
"Cyborg."
"I'm here, Supes. What's up?"
"Prison riot at Stryker's. The guards need help."
"All League members are preoccupied right now, but I'll find who I can and race over myself if I have to. You think you can hold out till then?"
Another villainess was choking a guard to death. A blast of heat vision, weak enough to be invisible to the human eye, distracted her just enough for the man to grab his taser. The woman cried out in pain, falling on the ground and convulsing in agony. "I'll manage. Thanks, Cy." He ended the call as his eyes fell upon Harley Quinn, who had suddenly by stopped by another, taller inmate.
Whisper A'Daire, a woman that was part snake, both metaphorically and literally. She was a notable member of Intergang, ally to Ra's al Ghul himself, and known business partner with Bruno 'Ugly' Mannheim. Her genetically altered skin was tinted orange, and scaly to the touch, and her eyes matched the infamous creature, narrowing as her forked tongue slipped out from between her scowling lips. Her hand shot forward, smacking the gun out of Harley's fingers as she hissed at the girl.
"You... You're the clown's whore, ain't cha?"
"Whore?! Watch it, ya walking purse! I'm his fiancée! What's it to ya?!"
"Your 'fiancé' backstabbed my partner out a deal and got him sent to Blackgate. Intergang doesn't take kindly to that." Whisper and Harley glared at one another, challenging the other in silence, before Whisper shouted to the other villains. "Hey! I'm putting out a bounty! Anyone who gives me the head of Harley Quinn will be a million bucks richer!"
That got the other inmates' attention. They ignored the guards, letting them flee as they began to advance towards Harley, surrounding her. The blonde just blew hair from her face, pouting.
"Only a million? I'm worth at least six."
Clark watched as Volcana aimed her hand at Harley's back. The temperature in the hall rose as she aimed a ball of fire at blonde. "Behind you!" Clark warned. The fireball shot forward, only to miss as Harley flipped in the air, performing a move that befit any master acrobat. She landed on the ground, barely dodging another attack from another villain.
Damn it... I need to help her before they kill her! Harley was doing a good job playing keep away and using the other villains as shields, but it was only a matter of time before they overwhelmed her, not to mention some of the villains glared at him for warning their prey. They were running at him, but he was far faster than they were. He just needed to use his time wisely.
Clark glanced around the area, planning out his route. Silver Banshee was standing on the sidelines, glaring at her fellow inmates for failing to capture Harley. The banshee's screams were incredibly powerful, and agonizing especially to those with enhanced hearing, but there was a glaring weakness to the sonic screech. Clark did his best to seem equally terrified and brave as three meta-humans moved towards him. He picked a rock from the ground and brandished it.
"B-back off! I'm warning you!"
"Ooh. A rock. Terrifying."
"Might want to put that down, hero. Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."
"Yeah, let us take care of that."
"Please, d-don't hurt me!" Clark begged, before closing his eyes and throwing the rock. He silently prayed his aim was on point as it flew through the air, over his attackers' heads.
"Ha! Nice aim, dumbass."
The rock flew, before nailing Silver Banshee on the head. The superhuman took the blow like a mosquito bite, scowling as she turned to glare at Clark. The reporter raised up his hand as he trembled in place.
"S-sorry, sir!" Yep. That did it. Clark braced himself as Silver Banshee took a deep breath...
"Missed me, missed me, now you gotta kiss me!"
"What are you idiots doing?! Kill her alrea-"
The shriek of the Silver Banshee was deafening. For the meta-humans, the scream left them paralyzed in pain as they tried to cover their ears. For Clark, he could feel blood pool in his ears as made his move. The pain was like a drill in each other, burrowing through his head, cutting into his ear drums and beating into his skull like a jackhammer. But experience with Silver Banshee lessened the pain, if only slightly. It hurt, but he fought her enough times to know how to block the pain and focus. He dashed forward, running past the other inmates until he was by Harley's side. Without breaking his run, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her along.
"Come on!" He doubt she could hear him over the banshee wails of Silver Banshee. The silver-haired woman scowled at the sight of them running, flying into the air to give chase. Clark pulled on Harley, silently pleading for her to run faster as the ghostly woman flew behind them. He pushed his legs a little farther, but Harley struggled to keep up.
It seemed that Silver Banshee had her prey, but a sound caught Clark's attention. It was a spark, a crackle of electricity. The air smelled hot as he breathed it in. It was nothing like the electricity coursing through the wires. It felt closer, sounded sharper, sparked almost like a heartbeat. One of the cells exploded, shattering the glass wall that held the prisoner.
The explosion knocked Clark and Harley forward, the reporter moving his body to protect the blonde from falling bits of heated glass. The two turned to see what had caused the blast and they saw a woman with light blue hair standing above them. The orange uniform burned away at her arms, revealing the blue and white body suit that clung to her cyan skin.
"Who the hell is making all that racket?!" she screamed. Sparks shot from her eyes as she glared at the surprised Silver Banshee. "Hey, scream queen! Put a sock in it!" she demanded, firing a bolt of electricity at the woman. The electricity hit the banshee, flinging her back and into the small crowd villains.
"Whoa! Who is that?" Harley asked, eyes wide.
"Leslie Willis, also known as Livewire."
"Huh. I like her style."
"Hold on, Livewire!" Whisper moved through the crowd, holding up her hand. "We don't want to fight! We're after that bitch and her little boytoy, not you," she explained, pointing at Harley and Clark behind her. "Step aside. Go be free, or hell, join in. Her head's worth a lot of money, I assure you."
Livewire paused, raising her brow at the offer. She turned her head to stare at Clark and Harley, before glancing back at Whisper. "How much we talking here?"
"A million dollars."
Livewire whistled in approval, nodding her head. "That's a lot of green."
"Indeed it is."
The blue-haired woman walked forward, nodding her head with a smirk on her face. "Put 'er there, babe. Let's shake on it." A sadistic grin formed on Whisper's face as she shook Livewire's hand.
"Excellent. Now let's- AHHHH!" The blue-haired woman let out a mocking laugh as Whisper was electrocuted. Her body fell to the ground, unconscious from the sheer pain as her attacker's eyes glowed blue.
"You idiots must not have heard. I'm reformed." Her prisoner garb burned away, reduced to ash as the lights around her intensified, giving her more energy. "So this whole jailbreak thing? Gotta tell ya. I ain't a fan." The last of the costume burned away, revealing the white and blue bodysuit under her skin. A familiar S was on her chest, shining brightly as her powers lit up the long hallway.
Clark beamed with pride at the sight of Livewire. "Her powers made her unstable, but Superman gave her a containment suit that helped regulate them. With her powers in check, she willingly gave herself up. The Man of Steel visits her every other week to see how she's doing," he explained, smiling at Harley's 'shocked' face.
"Alright, ladies. Whose first?"
Johnny Cooper, since birth, was told he'd amount to nothing. His ma would down a bottle of whiskey, before she'd wipe her lips and tell him about Johnny's deadbeat father. She'd tell him that he was just like his old man. 'A good-for-nothing loser!' she'd say. He wasn't really sure how to respond to that, and he'd just watch quietly as she took out a cigar and blew smoke into the air.
He was told the same by his teachers, by his mates, and even by Bruno Mannheim after joining Intergang. A college drop-out without family and friends in the middle of one of America's biggest cities, what was a loser like him to do except join up with a gang?
Extortion, bribery, armed theft, Johnny did whatever the hell Bruno told him to do. He even got to play around with some high-tech laser pistol. It would have been pretty sweet, if Bruno wasn't telling him to shoot some poor bitch and her kid.
It felt like he was there for hours, just being yelled at and insulted. He kept looking at the gun, then at the kid and his mom. One pull of the trigger and they'd be ashes, right? Maybe he was doing them a favor? Maybe if he made it quick and painless, it'd be than whatever Bruno was planning for them.
Didn't make it any easier.
Then the roof came crashing down and someone landed behind them. The other guys fired away, but all Johnny could do was watch as the man took the lasers like puffs of air. He moved like a blur, tearing their guns apart and knocking each man out, even Bruno 'Ugly' Mannheim. Then he was standing in front of Johnny like an obelisk, the light outlining his muscular, looming figure.
"I... I..."
"What's your name, son?" he asked.
"J-Johnny. Johnny Cooper."
"Johnny... You didn't fire your weapon. Can I ask why?"
"I mean... W-what would be the point, right?" he stuttered. He tried looking up to meet the man's eyes, but he just couldn't. If this was the same guy the Daily Planet wrote about, he could shoot fire from his eyes! Johnny kept his head down, staring at the man's bright red boots instead.
"I didn't mean at me. I meant at them." He motioned to the woman and child behind him.
Johnny didn't say anything for a moment, before he finally muttered a question. "A-are you going to beat me up?"
"No." The man gently reached for the gun, but he didn't take it. Johnny gave the weapon to him as the man placed a hand on his shoulder. "Johnny, you're better than this. You're going to have to do some time in jail, but I can see that you're too good for this life. I hope that you can see that too." He lifted up his hand, holding it out to him. "Metropolis has a popular reform program, and if you have a hard time, find me when you're released. I know some places that are always looking for new blood."
"I... Y-yeah. Okay."
Superman's words stayed with Johnny for hours, and now, they were coming back like the waves of the ocean. They slammed into his head as he watched the inmates swarm over the cops. The guards were doing their best, but there were just too damn many of them. One of them, a guard named Robert was trying to restore order, only to be attacked by two inmates. The smaller one held him down as the other, much larger thug, kicked and stomped on the old guard, laughing and mocking him as Robert bled on the ground.
"Not so tough now, are ya Kane?" he laughed. "Come on, tell me who the boss is. Say it!" Another kick. The old man cried out in pain, struggling to break free.
Robert Kane was always good to Johnny. Sympathetic. Respectful. Didn't treat him like an animal. He gave a shit about Johnny. Just like Superman did.
"Johnny, you're better than this."
"Hey!" He pushed open his cell door. The electric locks holding him in had long shut down, just like everyone else's. He marched towards the Robert and his two assailants, yelling at them. "I want a piece of him! You hear me?! I want his head!"
The two inmates seemed only too happy to give Johnny that. "Hear that, Kane? We ain't the only one looking for blood." He gently slapped the old man's face as his partner hoisted Robert up to his feet. "Go ahead, Johnny. Let's see what you got."
Johnny nodded his head, before balling his hands into fists. He took a deep breath as he stood in front of the two. Robert's forehead was bleeding. Nose looked broken. Eyebrow was cut. The wrinkled coot looked ready to fall into his grave. Robert looked at Johnny with broken eyes, before closing them. He looked ready to accept his fate.
Well, he ain't the first old bastard I've left disappointed. Johnny threw a punch, a strong, hard jab that slammed into the inmate's face. The guy holding Robert hadn't seen it coming, and there was a vicious crack at the sound of knuckles meeting face. The surprised bastard fell back, holding his nose as Robert fell into Johnny's arms. "I got you, old-timer."
"Motherfucker!" Johnny looked up at the fuming, monster-of-a-man. The guy looked ready to strangle the both of them, only to be tackled down. Another inmate, a man even bigger than he was, was beating the shit out of him.
"Run, dumbass!" He offered only a moment to glare at Johnny and Robert, before he resumed beating the man's head into the ground.
Johnny didn't need to be told twice. He threw Robert's arm over his shoulder and ran, pushing past the growing riot. It was hard to tell if the place was getting worse or better, because now other inmates were running out of their cells to fight other inmates. If he took a moment to look a little closer, he might have even seen some of the inmates protecting the guards.
This kind of shit only happens in Metropolis, he thought, carrying the guard to safety.
END
I won't lie. This chapter was a problem and a half to write. I'm not sure how okay I am with it honestly. It was even getting too long so I had to cut in half. Maybe you'll find it good. Maybe you'll find it was mostly filler (a complaint I have with it).
Would you guys prefer longer chapters, or chapters that are this length, I wonder. Anyways, yes. There's a jailbreak on the same day Clark goes to visit Harley. Hopefully that's not too bad a coincidence. More like superhero luck. But I wanted to do something very special with this jailbreak. In most, the guards and prisoners are clearly divided in sides, like Arkham Asylum, with some guards even in on it with the bad guys.
Here? I wanted to show that Metropolis isn't Gotham. That Stryker's, unlike Arkham, works. Livewire is a criminal that has changed her ways. She's one of at least four supervillains in Metropolis that are going to help the guards in this chapter, and the next. Johnny was just a regular guy I created that Superman inspired to be better. He, and other normal inmates, try to help the guards.
You can say it is unrealistic... But I wanted to show the goodness in people. Superman was sent to this planet to inspire humanity, not just punch monsters. He's inspiring all of these bad guys to try to be heroes. I like to think that helps give hope and foreshadows Harley's own growth.
Anyways, I've taken enough of your time. Have a good day, folks. Hope you liked this chapter, and if not, tell me how I can improve! I love reading all of the wonderful reviews you all leave me. Till next month!