The Eureka Chronicles 2: Don't trust the British

'It is a phrase! That she is f-' At this I faltered, conceal, hide, hides, hidesland... why was that so familiar to me?

'Can you shut up for one second' Were the consequential words from Penny's mouth.

Holy Moly.

My mind had almost tracked what my heart had known for a while by the time I reached the van. The trio tripped on each other's long, and short, legs.

'Hey, Reeky? Where are you going'

'I bet she's having one of those dizzy fits!'

'It's tizzy fit, Penny, tizzy'

Chazza Hides was my mortal enemy during a two month stint at the fabulous vogue masterclass for fabulous voguing queens; She had incessantly commented upon the sloppiness of my shablam when she knew my ACL had barely recovered, so I killed her. On my last night at the academy, I slipped some of Willam's Wall wax into her British Tea, took a sip of my own, American Tea, and ran. I tore down the inclines of Beverly Hills, shot past the Drag Race studio, but, taking an unfortunate tumble down hairy lane, slipped down the drain leading to the swamp queen's palace. I had attempted to swim upstream, to safety, however the current lashed against my pads and ripped me down the tunnels. I thought, at the time, that I was being punished; It was like that feeling you get, when you poison your mortal enemy's tea and fall into a drain, only this time, I hadn't poisoned my mortal enemy's tea.

It took me three months to clear the wax from my system, and when I had finally finished spewing yellow magic, I woke up and realised I hadn't poisoned anyone at all; The Swamp Queen had pulled me down the toilet before I was able to do the heinous act and planted this cautionary tale in my prefrontal cortex, thus saving me the torment of murdering a beautiful British Drag Queen. That last part wasn't thought by me, being it simply an illusion, weaved by the Swamp Queen. My soul remained unaffected by my brain, never forgiving Chazza for her misdeed against beauty, so perhaps I could attribute this incorrigible pain to her, especially seeing how willing she was to silence a woman's voice on season 9 of PooPaul's Drag Race.

'It's Chazza, Chazza Hides'

The journey to Hidesland was quick. I hadn't felt the need to chain the trio up due to the blood oath we took whilst trying to call upon the Goddess Hecate to smite down the fracking machines, so they sat next to, or behind me, gossiping about their friend Linda whom had abandoned them in Willam's Walmart.

'Whom?' Bellowed Karsting (the other one). Bearing her teeth at Shammy and Shakira, darting her eyes back and forth between the two - a peculiar behaviour to which I never unearthed the reason for -.

Shammy smacked Karsting's hand, to which Penny commenced a tirade on the hypocrisy of misogyny within the LGBT community.

'Periyat, Shakira' satirised Shammy, to which Karsting commenced a tirade on the dangers of abusing AAVE within the LGBT community/

I commanded them to be quiet the moment I realised that the buzzing sound surrounding the minivan was not coming from the fracking machine.

'Do you guys hear that?'

'If you mean the lady with the satin dress and feather boa gliding along the concrete, Shammy, then yes.' Was the smug response from Penny, squinting her eyes from the sheer force of her omniscient smile.

She wasn't lying, Chazza was floating, but not fully, walking without moving her legs, scraping her heels as she did so, directly towards us. I stopped the car and stepped outside, motioning for the suddenly sentimental trio to stay put, recognising the danger this British woman was putting us all in.