Jistanelleni Despochadalf Theron - Musically Talented, Violent, Foxy Genius

 The phone rings.  Jistanelli reaches across Serena Williams' supine form and looks at the number.

"That's China's area code," she thinks.  

Answers the call.  It's the President of China.  The man has a lot to say.  Jistanelli doesn't say a word.  She's cool.  

Gently she gets out of bed, careful not to wake Serena, and gets into her black vinyl bodysuit and stiletto heels - her hair is always perfect - loads her Uzi and grabs a few extra clips, then somersaults from the balcony into the seat of her McLaren. 

Designed and constructed to her specifications, this special edition McLaren can, in race mode, reach a speed of 250 mph in 3.7 seconds from a standing start, is submersible, and capable of flight. It's cold fusion drive was no problem to set up once she got her mind right.

She arrives in Red Square and marches up the steps of the Chinese White House.  Doesn't hesitate.  Kicks the door down.

"Girl, I cannot thank you enough," says the President of China. "That thing's been screwed up for a week and we can't get a locksmith up in here for nothing. I really appreciate it."

Jistanelleni is modest. She just smiles and props the door against the wall out of the way so nobody will trip over it.  "Aw, no problem. You want to hit Taco Bell?" she says.

See, she knows that the President of China is nuts about Taco Bell. And he agrees. And they go to Taco Bell and the President of China gets a Crunchwrap Supreme and three Party Box to go orders for his ministers and his secretary and wife and kids.

Now she's wide awake.  Drops off the President of China. They do their dap run. "Ngóh jek heidínsyùhn jòngmúhnsaai síhn" she says, their special good-bye joke, and the President of China laughs.

Cantonese. She speaks it perfectly.

Suddenly she sniffs the wind. Her finely tuned senses tell her that something isn't right.  Racks the steering wheel around and heads West. Underwater.

"Did you honestly think you'd get away with this?" she asks.  

Scene: Vernonia, Oregon.  A metal building behind the True Value Auto Shop. Vern, Doris, Chuck, his other brother Chuck, and SueAnne have been breeding Covid 19 in coffee cans and wafting it across the ocean so that China would get the blame.

"Well would have, if it hadn't have been for those darn kids," says Doris, and three kids with a box fan and a long extension cord sneak away into the forest.  

Everyone gets sent to New Mexico to stay in detention camps, and since they can't speak fluent English, the guards buy this readily. Jistanelleni, of course, has set fire to the operation, and stands there as the flames billow, hands on her hips, glorious.  But extreme heat and vinyl don't mix, so she does this just long enough for everyone to get a picture on their Smartphones, and then off she goes. 

Headed East. Flying just over the waves. Sees some whales. "Hey, whales," she says.  

She has time to kill, and China is a beautiful place.  So is the rest of Europe.  She loves that Autobahn, man.  Passing cars right and left.

Jistanelleni tells OnStar to order a dozen red roses and have them delivered to her penthouse, so they'll be the first thing Serena sees when she wakes up. "Put "J'taime" on the card," she says. 

 French. She speaks it fluently.

"There she goes," says a French dude in his striped shirt and beret a she goes cruising past in her badass McLaren. "La belle fantastique."

"That was nice of you to say," she replies, because she's polite. He picks a single rose and tosses it to her, one hand over his heart.

On her way across America, taking some backroads, she runs into a protest in North Carolina.  "Of course it would be North Carolina," she thinks.  

There on one side of the street is the Westboro Baptist Church, the Klan and a fair scattering of anti vaxxers, Pro Lifers, Maga Hatters and general fools all screaming themselves silly.  On the other side of the street is a Vietnamese psychiatrist sitting at a bus stop.  She seems puzzled.

Now Jistanelleni sees this poor woman waiting to get on the bus and she knows that anything is liable to set this mob off and make things difficult and tie up traffic, so Jistanelleni does the smart thing.  She goes to the nearest grocery store and buys a lot of hot dogs and then drives past the noisy group in her flashy car very slowly, with the good smell of all those hot dogs wafting out over the crowd.  

Our gal J hands out all the hot dogs those people can eat, and they all get the protein yawns and go home to take a nap.  

She drives the psychiatrist to her office.  They eat hot dogs on the way.  She's generous. Everybody enjoys a good hot dog.  She didn't cheap out, either - went with the Hebrew National Beef Franks.

On the way back home she stops to demolish the Westboro Baptist Church as long as it's just sitting there empty.  Does that thing Run Run Shaw style.  Kicks that place apart. Bam! Smash!  She's slinging bricks through windows and throwing pews around like matchsticks.  All the neighbors gather 'round and cheer her efforts.

"You're too kind," she says.  "Thank you." And she is so touched by their gratitude that she composes a musical tribute on the spot.  Reaches into the back of the McLaren, gets out her double-necked Fender, plugs it into the sound system and rocks the neighborhood so hard that everyone becomes friends, and they rock out for eight hours. All the lawns turn from brown to green. The police show up, and they get rocked so hard that they join in.  They even sing backup while the mayor takes the lead during the finale, a dazzling and innovative re-imagining of 'The Ghost Of Tom Joad'. 

"My work here is done," she thinks.  As she drives away, everyone is singing 'Bohemian Rhapsody'. 

"Damn," says the chief of police of Westboro.  "She was one foxy woman."

"That was Jistanelleni Despochadalf  Theron - Musically Talented, Violent, Foxy Genius," the mayor says.  "She can't help it.  I patterned my personal foxy on her foxy."

"It shows," says the chief of police, and they hold hands.

By the time Jistanelleni gets back to her lavish penthouse Serena is awake, putting the roses into a breathtakingly beautiful mid-century Finnish art glass vase. "It was so sweet of you to let me sleep in," she says.

"I brought you Starbucks," says Jistanelleni.  "Americano, light crema."  Hands it to Serena, who is completely charmed by this thoughtful gesture.

Needless to say, after the coffee is gone, and after a shower, and a nap, they spend the rest of the day making acrobatic, insane, funky love and  fall asleep in each other's arms.

Just another day in the life of Jistanelleni Despochadalf  Theron - Musically Talented, Violent, Foxy Genius.