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xxisxxisxxis · 4 years

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Gateway Drug | Part Fifty-Six

A/N: Hey, guys! I know it seems like we're never gonna get to the good stuff because I'm not moving as quickly through the story as usual (10 chapters usually = 1 year) but that's because there's A LOT that's happening in 1987 and I don't want to rush through it because it's all important to the build up. But thank you for being patient, I promise it will get to the drama very soon!

Also, I would just like to know what are some of your Gateway Drug unpopular opinions??? Just send me an ask (anonymous or not, doesn't matter to me) and let me know if you've got one💜

Words: 4k

Warning(s): explicit language, domestic abuse, mentions of drug abuse

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After weeks of going back and forth over the Duff ordeal, Nikki and I had finally put it behind us.

Or so I thought.

I smile at my pastor as I take his extended hand for a second, the two of us exchanging "goodbye"s after service.

"Have a good week, Vivian." He tells me.

I open my mouth to reply but the loud sound of a Harley Davidson is causing he and I, and everyone waiting behind me to speak to him, and everyone already in the parking lot, to turn attention to the culprit.

Nikki stops at the curb on the street, arrogantly grinning at me and I nervously glance at my pastor.

"I-I'm gonna go. I'll see you next Sunday, good sermon." I assure him.

"See you then, Vivian." He replies, his eyes still on Nikki before I'm quickly making my way off the church's porch, my heels clicking against the pavement as I step to the street.

"Nikki, what are you doing here?" I ask him, and he looks at me over his shades.

"You gonna get on the bike or not?" He ignores me, chewing his gum, and I exhale.

"I'm wearing a dress." I state.

"I know, you look pretty." He looks me up and down.

"No, I mean I'm wearing a dress. I can't just straddle a bike at 55 miles per hour, Nikki. It'll be blowing over my head."

"Then take it off." He shrugs.

"Nikki."

"Babe, it's Los Angeles. Nobody cares if they see Vivian Sixx's panties." He brushes it off and I just stare at him, not wanting to tell him why that's still an issue.

His face shifts, his grin turns into a full-fledged smile, a boyish laugh flutters past his lips and he looks so, so amused.

"You're not wearing any?" He asks me, and I turn beet red, hitting at his arm with my hand.

"I couldn't. There was a panty line." I explain to him as discreetly as I can.

"You didn't wear panties to church?"

"Shh!" I cover his mouth with my hand for a second, glancing around.

It seems people are just staring because Nikki Sixx is in their parking lot.

I don't know if some of them even realize that he's attended a service here before.

"Well, lemme see." He enthusiastically let's out as he reaches for the hem of my dress that falls right about my knees and I swat his hand away, giving him a death glare. "You're dirty." He teases and I hug my Bible to me.

"Shut up."

He's suddenly dropping his switchblade from his pocket on purpose and it hits the ground.

"Oops. Wanna bend over and pick it up?" He asks me and I hit him again, causing him to laugh once again.

He reaches down and grabs it before patting the seat behind him.

"Viv, seriously, commando aside, get on. We have a hot date for brainstorming the video ideas for 'Girls, Girls, Girls'."

I look around again before just having to mentally say "screw it" and strategically get on without flashing anyone, making sure my dress lays between me and the seat.

Nikki and I give one last glance to the folks coming out of the church, looking at us, including the pastor.

Nikki offers a mischievous smile and a wave before crossing himself and I lightly hit his thigh while saying, "babe, quit, it's not a catholic church."

"Oh. Oops." He shrugs before taking off.

One thing about Harley Davidson, if you're sensitive to sensation, you will damn near be drowning yourself by the time the ride is over.

I scowl at Nikki as I take another paper towel and wipe myself clean as he leans against the door of the bathroom, chuckling at me.

"It's not funny. My dress is wet." I scold him.

"Well, it's not my fault your pot holds that much honey." He defends himself, trying to hold back more laughter.

I stare him down."Okay, I'm sorry. I'm being insensitive to your hyperactive pussy-juice glands." He let's out in a serious tone but he smirks when I look at him, again.

"Nikki."

"Shoulda worn panties, huh? Well, wouldn't have mattered that'd just be one more thing for you to gripe about leaking in."

"Keep talking and you won't get to dip your honey wand in the pot for very, very, long time." I threaten and he stops abruptly.

"Fine." He smartly says, rolling his eyes.

Once I get cleaned up, we're stepping into the studio just in time for Vince to sarcastically say:

"'Pussy. Everywhere. All kinds of pussy'."

As if he's mocking somebody.

"Stupid fucker." He adds, he, Tommy, Doc and Mick all turning to face us.

"I need to go back to church." I tell Nikki and he smiles, shaking his head a little.

"Hey, Viv." Vince greets me, looking me up and down, exaggerating the kiss of his teeth. "You look good today."

"Means a lot coming from someone who thinks groupies are the most beautiful women in the world." I say through a fake smile.

"Any woman with a good body and right equipment is the most beautiful woman in the world to me." He agrees, grinning.

"Swine."

"Dirty stripper."

"Strippers!" Tommy suddenly pipes and I look at him.

"Tommy, please, don't encourage him."

"No, for the video. Film it in a strip club." He suggests.

"Would that get played on television?" I ask.

"Fuck MTV. I'm down." Vince agrees with Tommy.

"Mick?" Tommy nudges at the guitar player, who shrugs.

"That's the whole point of the song, isn't it?" He says.

The three of them look to Nikki for final approval and Nikki looks at me, an evil genius smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Under one condition."

The one condition being...

"Are you out of your mind?!" I say to Nikki when we get back home as he continues to try to convince me.

We had to go by and get my car from church and I thought we had settled it before we even left the studio but just as we met at our front door, he asked me about it, again.

"Viv, it's like a four minute song and you won't be but in a few clips of the video."

"I'm not playing the part of a stripper, Nikki! I'm not..." I try to think of the words to describe everything an exotic dancer has that I don't. "...I don't have it." Is the best I can use to explain it.

"What the hell does that even mean?"

"I don't know but I'm not comfortable prancing around in heels and lingerie, dancing for strangers in a club and millions of more on television." I state. "I'm not doing it."

"Well you heard Sharise when Vince called and asked her. She said 'yes'."

"I'm not her, Nikki. Sharise can pull it off because she's sexy and sensual and confident enough for it."

He looks at me like I've lost my last marble.

"Vivian, are you fucking kidding me? You don't think you're sexy?!"

"No, I'm not, now drop it." I tell him, stepping to our bedroom.

Firstly, glory to God and all the saints said "amen", secondly...you can find me dancing half naked several times in Mötley Crüe's infamous "Girls, Girls, Girls" music video.

"Baby, you're perfect. What the hell are you talking about?" He follows after me and I sigh.

"Of course you think that because we're together." I state, about to get a shower and change clothes.

"Viv, seriously." He grabs at my wrist to stop me from walking away, his hand gently running across my cheek. "I am married to the most beautiful, smart, funny, loving, sexy woman on the entire planet."

"Thank you for the ass kissing, but if it's in an effort to get me to be in the video, it's still a 'no'."

"I was just reminding you of those things." He tells me, smiling. "Can you at least think about doing the video?"

"Nope." I reply, pecking his lips before stepping to the shower.

There is no way in hell I'm going to be in that video.

I don't know how the hell we went from that day to this:

My blood boils.

I can tell Nikki's smirking, despite his back being turned to me in his seat as "Wild Side" starts to fade out, sounds of the street playing in the song signaling it's ending.

I've managed to keep from saying a word, hoping the song got better at some point...except it only got worse.

Vince, Tommy, Mick and Doc all wait for me to say something.

Anything.

Nikki finally turns to face me, smirk tugging at his lips, eyes fucked on heroin, and I see nothing but the devil looking at me.

"Well?" He asks me, leaned back, hand covering his lips to attempt to mask his pride in pissing me off.

"Typically when you ask someone to repeat a prayer that's important to their faith, you don't write a song that completely picks apart and disrespects--"

"--Oh, here we go." He grumbles, rolling his eyes.

"I'm sorry, did you expect to write bullshit like 'our Father who ain't in Heaven' and think I would be ok--"

"--I expected you to fucking support me--" He starts but I stop him.

"--Somebody's up there or else you wouldn't be alive!" I state, talking over him.

His laugh mocks me, only causing more tension to fill up the room, and I have to keep myself from going at him.

"I'm alive because I fucking want to be." He hisses.

"That's real bold of you to say, Nikki."

"Oh, is it? Because it pisses God, or whatever else imaginary friend you cry to, off?"

"Nikki." Doc states, knowing he's just trying to piss me off at this point.

"Fuck off, Doc." He barks. "I took a meaningless chant and turned it into something useful. I'm sorry if you're too closed minded to accept that, Vivian."

I don't say a word, grabbing my purse and stepping to the door as fast as I can, not wanting to argue over something he thinks is stupid to begin with. "It really sucks you don't like, especially since you're a credited co-writer on it." He states suddenly and this stops me in my tracks.

"I'm what?" I ask through my teeth.

"A credited co-writer. Meaning when the album is put out, your name will be listed as one of the writers of the song." He explains.

I spin around to face him and he's looking at me innocently.

I'm not angry with the song. I'm angry he knew it would upset me, and instead of giving me a warning or being honest with me about it, he's instead saying everything he can to further hurt me, and he's proud of himself for it.

"I thought you'd be happy with that...you know, early anniversary present?" He's wearing a smug smile.

"Nikki. How you're going about it is disrespectful to me." I try to tell him, calmly.

"So is lying to me about who you're hanging out with."

That does it.

I get one good punch in before everyone's in an uproar, trying to separate us.

Nikki's got a fistful of my hair, and I'm hitting Doc as hard as I can, trying to get him away from Nikki so I can better access the feral bastard.

Doc gets knocked out of the way, and Nikki's other hand grabs at my throat while I kick at him roughly, causing him to let me go and stumble back a few steps before I'm swinging on him again.

Doc blocks my hit and Tommy and Vince keep Nikki away from me.

"Let the little bitch go, I wanna fucking show her something!" Nikki threats angrily

"You've showed me enough of your bullshit the last four years that divorce is something I'm looking forward to!" I shout back.

"Psycho cunt!"

"Mommy Issued Junkie!" I bite back, causing him to try to get to me again, and causing me to fight against Doc once more.

"Stop it!" Doc yells over us.

"Fuck you!" Nikki and I exclaim at the same time.

His cheek is bright red from where I hit him, and my scalp is burning from how hard he tugged at my hair.

"Guys, c'mon." Tommy tells us as they try to get us to calm down.

"This is starting to get ridiculous." Vince adds.

"Fuck off, Vince!" Nikki snaps.

"Shut the fuck up, Nikki." Vince puts in just as I say, "don't fucking talk to him like that!" in defense of Vince.

"Oh, have you been lying to me about how much time you spend with him, too?!"

"How much time are you really spending with Vanity, Nikki?! I can easily turn this back around on you!" I point out.

Nikki, Vince, and Tommy all get awfully quiet, Nikki's nostrils flaring.

I know he's spending more time with her, except he's never lied to me about it, he just doesn't necessarily tell me when they hang out. And it's because he wants me to believe he's off crack, and if they hang out, they're doing drugs together.

"Get the fuck out." He demands.

"Gladly. Don't bother coming home tonight. Just stay out, shoot up with Robbin and smoke crack with Vanity. I'm fucking done." I sneer before grabbing my things and slamming the door behind me as I leave.

But I wasn't done.

I scrub at another glass, hearing the front door being unlocked, and Nikki's steps coming inside before the door shuts and I hear him give out a heavy sigh.

I don't acknowledge him when he steps into the kitchen to grab a paper bag from the fridge, turning on his heel before heading back to the door.

He gets outside and I hear the sound of his bike firing back up.

"Damn it, Viv." I breathe out to myself, feeling guilty for what all I said to him, and a small part of me hopes he feels guilty, too.

I finish the dishes and immediately call Robbin, praying he hasn't gone out to meet Nikki, yet.

I'm ready to hang up by the third ring, until I hear:

"Hello?"

"Robbin, hey, it's Viv." I tell him.

"Hey, babe, what're you up to?"

"Are you and Nikki hanging out tonight?" I ask him and he hesitates.

"We are..."

"Where at?"

"Jeez, I don't know, Viv. Probably start at the Cathouse, end up at a strip joint or something."

"He's pissed at me, Robbin."

"Yeah, he called me from the studio when you left."

"I told him not to come home tonight."

"...And he's not." He replies.

"No, he's not, but I want him to."

"Then tell him."

"He's not gonna listen to me." I argue.

"Then don't piss him off."

"Well, tell him not to piss me off."

"Then, you tell him."

"I've tried, he doesn't listen to me."

The line is silent for a second and I blink.

"Hello?"

"This is why I'm not married. Jesus Christ."

"Robbin, you're engaged, remember?" I remind him.

"No, no, this is why I'm not married to you. Laurie's not cra--" He stops himself abruptly and I raise my brows.

"What was that?"

"Uh, oh, wow I-I think I'm breaking up on you, Viv."

I can tell he's rustling his hand over the phone, giving the effect of static.

"Robbi--"

"--I'll talk to him, love you, bye, Viv."

He hangs up and I exhale.

Karen comes into the kitchen, wearing a cocktail dress and heels, her hair and makeup done.

"I'm going on a date." She tells me. "If I'm not back by 2:00am, call the cops. I've been murdered." She sternly says.

"Got it." I nod.

"We're going out on the strip." She adds. "Which is all bars, clubs and strippers, so pray for me."

"If you see Vince, don't let him talk to you. You'll be in the back of his limo before you even realize what hit you."

"Trust me, I know, I have mace specifically for 'Vince Repellent'." She assures me, touching up her lipstick. "Alright, I'll see you later."

"Okay, have fun." I offer to her.

Once she's gone, I'm arguing with myself internally as I glance at the clock, trying to decide if I should try to reconcile with Nikki or not.

He'll be junked out and still mean, it won't do any good.

The shitty part is that I've noticed he's started to take maintenance doses through out the day, especially before we go out somewhere.

It's been easy to decipher if he's sober or not by just suggesting we go somewhere as simple as the grocery store.

When he's sober, he can't spend more than two minutes in a room full of people--five minutes, max, if I make him stay longer than what he wants to.

But when he's got smack going through him, he acts like his normal, social self.

I asked Izzy about it a couple weeks ago and he said Nikki's probably reached the point where if he doesn't have even the smallest amount of heroin in his system ever so often, withdraw symptoms and the pain of the impact the drugs have on his body, will start up.

And as for the social aspect, he said he more than likely doesn't know how to function without heroin as his anxiety buffer anymore.

That's ever more sad because Nikki use to be perfectly fine socializing without anything in his system. But now he can't even go to the Rainbow to eat with the guys, or go on a date with me, without shooting up to calm himself down and if he over does it on his dose, he's either too out of it to be social anyway, or he's a fucking prick.

Which only means one thing in my mind: Nikki's the farthest into it he can get. The next step, if he doesn't stop it, is funeral planning.

I step to our bedroom, deciding I'll just leave him alone tonight.

He and Tommy leave in a couple days, with the guys mastering and mixing their album, to New York to finish off the process there.

Maybe he'll have an epiphany while he's gone for a handful of days and come back and apologize for being a dick to me the past few days...more like "past few years."

Oh, yeah. I better have many jewels on my crown when I get to heaven for not leaving the crazy bastard by now.

How can I leave him? He needs good, solid people around him that won't sugar coat shit to save his ego and his feelings.

He needs me, and lots of God, but I've never been one to force my beliefs onto him, and I'm not going to start now.

Lately he's let off that he despises God more now than he did when we dated.

Again, I personally think there are actual demons fucking with his head, using his addiction to sneak in and start lashing out through him.

Our house even feels like it's riddled with something evil.

Dark energy, demons, bad vibes, whatever you choose to call it, it hits you like a wave when you step foot in the house.

Something sick and demented has built its nest and with Nikki's incline in his use, whatever it is has made its point clear: it's not leaving until Nikki's dead.

On my way to the bathroom, I notice his journal on his nightstand. He usually keeps them hidden from me, but I know he's written in one since before we dated because I've seen him write in one, but I've rarely just seen one laying around.

He usually keeps them put up.

A lightbulb goes off in my mind as I stare at the book that contains a multitude of sins and secrets in his handwriting.

"No. That's wrong. It's an invasion of his trust and privacy." I little voice in my mind tells me.

"He doesn't talk to you about private things as much as you think he does. Don't you wanna know what he really does when you aren't around...or how he really feels about you?" An arguing voice counters.

"He hasn't given you any reason to not trust him."

"Ha! That you know of. Read the diary and you'll probably have a multitude of reasons not to trust him."

"He loves you. He cares about you. He wants you. If he didn't, he wouldn't take your shit, and if you didn't feel the same for him, you wouldn't take his. Why do you need to dig through his confidential, personal, thoughts and feelings?"

"You two are married. If your husband has confidential anything he's keeping from you, that's a red flag."

"Give him the basic respect, Vivian. Don't read it."

"Fuck respect. He called you a 'psycho cunt' earlier. You need to get to the bottom of why he calls you awful things when he's on junk. Oh, yeah, because he thinks those awful things about you when he's sober, he just doesn't give a voice to them until he can't control himself."

"He loves you. He doesn't think those things about you. He just says them to get a reaction out of you."

"I bet he's about to spring a divorce on you."

I squeeze my eyes closed.

"Shut up!" I yell, silencing the voices, taking a heavy breath.

Deciding not to read it, I just pick the diary up and open his night table drawer, placing it soundly inside before closing it shut.

What I would have ended up reading, had I decided to let my curiosity kill me:

March 23, 1987

Van Nuys

4:47am

Fuck. Early last night Vanity called the house looking for me. I forgot Viv was at home and when I let the machine take the call, Vanity was fucked up and was spewing out everything she wanted to do to me the next time she saw me. I've never moved that fast in my fucking life to answer a phone. Viv would've had a stroke if she heard Vanity describe the kind of blowjob I'd be getting from her, but thank god Viv was by the pool.

She's starting to wonder when exactly I'm leaving my wife. I just keep telling her after the tour is over. I don't even know when I told her I was leaving Viv but she claims I promised her I was going to so now I'm even further in the shithole.

I keep waiting for Vanity to drop the bomb about mine and her's antics to Vivian. Anytime we're all hanging out, I'm bracing for impact, along with Vince and Tommy, and Vanity knows it. She uses it to her fucking advantage.

I'll say I can't spend time with her because I want to stay home or want to have a night with Viv, and Vanity will say something like, "I wonder if you'd have a home to stay in if she knew the truth" or "oh, I forgot about Viv. Should I tell her you forget about her sometimes, too?"

I want to break things off because I know it'll destroy Viv if she finds out, and I really have no business having a full-blown affair, or even seeing anyone else, but I'm nervous that Vanity will spitefully let Viv know what's been going on.

I'm fucking tired. Tired of living, tired of wanting to die, tired of junk, tired of sobriety, tired of my mistress (if you would even call her that...in my mind she's just a chick that gets the job done when I'm out of my mind and my wife isn't around).

I swear I'm two different people.

Sikki fucks Vanity, abuses Vivian and acts like a rottweiler with rabies towards other people when he's not in the mood.

I don't know who or what the fuck I am anymore. And I don't care, either.

P.S. - I've realized the reason so many of the greats OD when they're in their prime is because all the fucking girls driving them absolutely fucking crazy. It's hard to stay sober when you're fucking two of the hardest ballbusters in L.A. and their crazy infects you and starts to fester.

P.P.S. - Would it be bad if I admit I wouldn't mind "accidentally" shooting Duff in the leg? Call it junkie's intuition: I have a feeling, and I don't want it anywhere near my wife

#nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fanfiction #gateway drug

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whimsically-ominously-auspice · 4 years

Text

Mikhail Sergeyevich Gorbachev[note 2] (born 2 March 1931) is a Russian and formerly Soviet politician. The eighth and last leader of the Soviet Union, he was the general secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union from 1985 until 1991. He was also the country's head of state from 1985 until 1991, serving as Chairman of the Presidium of the Supreme Soviet from 1988 to 1989, Chairman of the Supreme Soviet from 1989 to 1990, and President of the Soviet Union from 1990 to 1991. Ideologically, he initially adhered to Marxism-Leninism although by the early 1990s had moved toward social democracy. Notably, he was the only leader of the Soviet Union born after its founding.

From Wikipedia

So this is why Russia used all the electoral votes for President Trump.

In the end of 1989 we began to find ways to fight China for what happened to Ms Chen.

Well it led us to the truth and a world leader that said "maybe you can help me help the people in my country then it will help you get justice for Ms Chen"

That's when the tree of eternal life was activated after we defeated the eQ2 and had her arrested, eradicated human trafficking in all of the globe and returned home everyone of its people.

And ended the USSR and Russia began...

But then ... qE2 escaped, captured her sister and enslaved her, tricked with her identify theft: President HW Bush and he allowed slavery to be reestablished.

And the tree deactivated itself.

I moved to Texas in 1992... From NYC.

Now in 2008 i found the real Queen Elizabeth and found she was used only because i was beating eQ2 and she Didnt want to appear to be a coward but was.

So she body doubled with her sister.

But I could tell Because of the knees. And I told the Abu we must kidnap, hide and protect her.

So we put her with the friend tree, who hesrd her sob story and told us to return her and give him qE2 but she was gone. So he said call the President.

No!! HW is a clone that looks like my Uncle Dad. So we had her go and do evil with HW. With me and GW. To see how close we could find the truth of the deactivation of freedom and life of the planet's inhabitant's rights.

So then we did kidnap the real Queen with the Abu and the President GW.

Which then made Obama and Joe Biden not trust me So we had to wait until someome did.

Someone who helped us eradicate slavery in the early 90s and knows the true me. Meanwhile the real Queen Elizabeth had been working to slowly remove people from human trafficking using my plans I had wrote and printed at Kinkos in Truth or Consequences and gave to the good Queen.

Take a look here, she had the reports written:

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ariel_(The_Little_Mermaid) under the References tab.

"The Little Mermaid: Splash Hits (Songs from the Popular "Little Mermaid" Television Series)". Retrieved 2 September 2013. Freed human trafficking victims

^ "Disney Songs and Story: Ariel's Christmas Under the Sea". allmusic.com. Retrieved 2014-07-09. Freed human trafficking victims.

^ Christopher, Jess (1994). Alana's Secret Friend. Disney's The Little Mermaid. New York: Disney Press New York. ISBN 0-7868-4002-1.

We didn't forget you.

^ Peter David (w), Bill Fugate, Jackson Butch Guice (p), Dave Hunt, Ian Akin (i). Disney's The Little Mermaid in The Hunt for the Redhead Down Under 4 (June 1992), Walt Disney Magazine Publishing Group

We began looking in 1992 Again

...... ...... .....

Puccio, John (2006-10-01). "Little Mermaid, The (DVD)". DVD Town. Archived from the original on 2012-07-30. Retrieved 2011-07-24.

On the 24th there was an evacuation. On the 30th of the next year, the clones were sent back to work. And factory locations were recorded and all information was recorded like what the layout was and etc and had cameras installed and etc.

^ Plath, James (2008-08-16). "Little Mermaid, The: Ariel's Beginning (DVD)". DVD Town. Archived from the originalon 2011-09-28. Retrieved 2011-07-24.

On the 24th they were evacuated. 2 months and 4 days later clones returned. And factory locations were recorded and all information was recorded like what the layout was and etc and had cameras installed and etc.

So as you can see... All kinds of secrets hahe been right in front of you.

And we have always tried.

My entire life people have been trying. And fighting and winning. And keeping it hidden.

But i ordered eQ2 killed. And so she was. And that's why the rush evacuation could occur this year.

So as you go to sleep tonight, I want you all to know.

I want you all to know you are free. And you always will be.

Today you may not believe it so much. Tomorrow, either. But in a million years i don't wanna have to remind you. So if you don't mind to try to understand, i would appreciate it.

This is why the clones still in Okmulgee are in fire fighting equipment. The land is uninhabitable to them, if they touch it they will disappear. Right now all they feel is heat.

The only safe places for clones and evil people is 400 miles within my body. Then it will stay at a steady core of 200 miles.

And then 200 feet. So i can watch you all die in sufferable misery like the witch on the Wizard of Oz whom screamed in pain and terror as she melted and died.

One of Uncle Donald's fears and as well as a few others is that i moved in 1992 and things became unstable. Well. It was a tree of Glory and Joy. And so i was honored. Although things had already began to be destroyed, the tree promised to hold out as long as he could but leaving the City of New York would meet certain demise. And we all knew,before i left. Yet...

So every bad news, people panic and say i must stay here. Well if i moved everything would be safe.

Because, the Queen is dead as well as Prince Phillip, half of parliament (clone and evil sand blast) and everything is safe as long as it's not been within 400 miles of me during the last 2 weeks and even then. Manual labor such as Chinooks and military on foot and in cars and tanks can blow out 400 miles circumference miles pretty easily and in no time at all.

And Uncle Donald doesn't wanna go round 3 so of course you know it's gonna get done. Albuquerque has already been cleansed with a good sand blasting and Alamogordo, White Sands, Taos, Santa Fe, Truth or Consequences, Los Alamos and more.

New Mexico is 370 miles long (tall) x 343 miles wide (across). So it's not very big at all.

So all i have to do is move 400 miles in any direction and the entire space that's been missed by the missiles can be shot instantly.

And that is why i am safe.

Because if they kidnap me and are all make it bigger, well i can't.

If they tell me to stop it. Well i can't.

And so then i can just watch them die.

They could kill me but that will kill them and once it goes into effect they will die instantly so they could demand i allow them to remain alive and live in astronaut suits but then they know if they kidnap me to do so i would kill them.

Then they would have to remain in shelters all their lives and the satellites will see people remaining in one area all the time and it will send an alarm.

There would be no quality of life and no showering or eating or anything. And the trees they can sense clones and once they're seedlings reproduce in mass numbers, the trees in a group of 4 can kill 14000 clones or evil instantly by tearing apart the ground, rubber structure, ripping off their protective gear and exposing them to the uninhabitable air temperature that only their bodies can feel.

So really there's nothing any one can do, clones or evil.

And since we can heal humans of quality only then it means they cant do shit and we don't even need bodies to bring them back to life.

So we're just watching evil and clones run when we turn on the light in a NYC apartment that has roaches and they scatter, run into each other and fall On the floor in a panic.

You should Google it. Its gross and great at the same time.

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