ALICE Ch 264

The announcement isn’t unexpected. The timing is.

Alice is off with Lora. Under different circumstances, that would make Glynda curious. Right now, she does not care. She reads the email sent by one of Irina Orlova’s horde of assistants. Effectively immediately, the pit crew is in breach of contract and pulled from FUTA Racing.

FF1

“Girl, you been drinking these racing fumes too long if you think there’s a single damn white person that’s contributed more the world than Walter Goggins,” Meri informs Colby. They’re snuggled in bed, watching Timothy Olyphant shoot economically disadvantaged people in rural Kentucky.

“Is it Walter? It’s not Walter,” Colby replies with a yawn. “And he has not contributed to the culture. Not like Ron Perlman has. You don’t understand. You haven’t seen Hellboy.”

Meri makes a face, absently playing with Colby’s hair. “Who? What?”

“I need to sleep.”

Colby’s phone beeps at her.

“Don’t get that,” Meri warns.

Colby ignores that and grabs her phone. There is silence. Meri looks over curiously to see that her girlfriend is the color of chalk.

“What?”

Colby laughs nervously. “I have ten hours to find a new pit crew.”

FF1

Lora chokes on her salad in the safety and isolation of her room. Coughing, she pounds on her chest and lurches to her feet, stumbling away from her little table. The Russians have pulled the pit crew. Just as quickly as her good mood came with Alice’s heartfelt apology, reality crushes her flat to the floor and grinds her beneath its deeply unsexy stilettos.

There’s another text, this one from Kylie, asking if she wants to hang out. The night before qualifiers? She must be joking. Lora replies to tell her that the pit crew is gone.

FF1

Kylie sits bolt upright in her bed. She’s surrounded by beer bottles. Her undershirt is covered in crumbs, and she was holding her phone with one hand while the other was in her panties, masturbating idly. Her libido dies, screaming. This is a tragedy. No more Amazons?

“Fucking hell,” she says, flopping on her back and rubbing her hand on her shirt. In her mind, she sees bulging abs and biceps. Massive cocks exploding. Fountains of thick, smelly jizz. Big, hot tongues between her legs and on her skin. All that is only in her memory now. It’s so sad. She hiccups, tears welling up in her eyes.

Bottles clink as she repositions to get comfortable, sniffling softly. The Amazons are gone, and she didn’t even get to say goodbye to her brown goddesses. Maybe she has had one too many tonight.

Oh, and now the team is fucked. That’s bad too, she supposes.