Jack Yeovil - Krokodil Tears

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Dark Future II
Krokodil Tears
Jack Yeovil
GENERAL INFORMATION
KNOWN ALIASES: Jazzbeaux, Red Jesse, Juicer, J'Am, Minnie Molotov, others
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DATE OF BIRTH: November 15th, 1978
PLACE OF BIRTH:DenverNoGo,Colorado
SEX: Fem
RACE: Cauc.
STATUS: Single, juvie
HEIGHT: 5'4"
EYES: Green
HAIR: Black
BIO-IMPLANTS: Four red metal stars inset in subject's knuckles.
DIST. MARKS: Teardrop mole under left eye. Faint but numerous scars across back. Subject denies
she has been beaten, but her case worker (Ref: DOUANIER,LYNN Dept. of Child Welfare) reports
that subject's father (see: BONNEY, BRUNO) has been issued with three prior warnings, re: child
abuse. My conclusion is that the father regularly chastised the subject with a rod or a cane.
OFFICER'S REMARKS: Majorette type, but dresses like Morticia Adams. Cleaned-up, could pass
for Rosanna Arquette.
A.T.O.A. DETAILS
CLOTHING AT TIME OF ARREST: black fishnet tights (ragged), black pseudoleather skirt, black
pseudoleather waistcoat, black pseudoleather boots, one black suede glove (with talons), copper
chain-link belt, bra and underpants, long scarf (weighted at one end, i.e.: cross-ref under WEAPONS).
PERSONAL POSSESSIONS AT TIME OF ARREST: Black pseudoleather handbag, $765.84 in bills
and coins, sundry items of correspondence, vial of pills (as yet unidentified), powder compact,
hyposqueeze and two cartridges of smack-synth, three lipsticks (black, blue, red), pocket calculator,
issue of Moscow Beat magazine, badge of tri-D likeness of Petya Tcherkassoff, hammer-and-sickle
earrings (cross-ref under WEAPONS?), credit cards (American Express, Disneycard, MasterGrab), five
ampoules of morph-plus, Walkman glasses (with five Soviet-import musichips), N-R-Gee candy, diary
(locked), dampraguettes, clippings from Guns and Killing magazine.
WEAPONS AT TIME OF ARREST: 27 loose rounds of .44 ScumStopper ammunition (subject had
no gun A.T.O.A), straight razor, stiletto in ankle-holster, Swiss Army nunchaka, filed-sharp fetish
bracelets.
OFFICER'S REMARKS: subject's clothing and possessions turned over to the care of the matron,
weapons given in to custody of the court.
HISTORY AND SOCIAL STANDING
ADDRESS: NFA
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KNOWN RELATIVES: Bonney, Bruno (father), deceased. Bonney, Robyn is the name under 'mother'
on her birth certificate, but no such individual is traceable.
KNOWN CRIMINAL ASSOCIATES: Jean, Andrew (member of Psychopomps gangcult);
Threadneedle, Simon (biosurgeon); Kristaldo, Gaspar (pimp, drug dealer, assassin-for-hire).
KNOWN CRIMINAL AFFILIATIONS: The Psychopomps,Denver Chapter. Subject holds rank of a
Provisional War Chief in the Psychopomps' Junior League Cadre.
OCCUPATION: High school student. Subject's counsellor (Ref; WESLEY, SANDRA JEANE, Barry
Goldwater High) cannot recall ever seeing her on the premises.
CREDIT RATING: Fair
PREVIOUS ARRESTS: possession and sale of controlled substances, possession and use of a deadly
weapon, assault with intent to commit serious injury, grand theft auto, being in charge of a vehicle while
under the influence of a controlled substance, destruction of state property, contributing to the deliquency
of a minor, driving without due c and a, conspiracy to solicit prostitution, taking part in an illegal sporting
event.
PREVIOUS CONVICTIONS: Taking part in an illegal sporting event (she's a warehouse gladiatrix),
destruction of state property.
OFFICER'S REMARKS: Cute kid!
CURRENT ARREST DETAILS
CHARGE: Homicide
SITE OF ARREST: The Baboushka Beat Nite Klub,Intersection Peebles Drive and124th Street .
ARRESTING OFFICER: Patrolman L. J. Leonowens (Patrolwoman L. G. Tuttle, Civilian Auxiliary, P.
T. Garratt, assisting).
COMPLAINANT: State, on behalf of the deceased (BONNEY, BRUNO).
OFFICER'S REMARKS: Subject will not serve time on this one. No one reading this report or
attending subsequent trial will have any doubts as to the facts of the case, and it is my opinion that subject
will, repeat, WILL re-offend. But Jessamyn Amanda Bonney is thirteen years old, and Bruno Bonney
was slime wrapped up in a human skin. The judge will give her a medal and a lollipop, the Provisional
War Chief will become a ward of the State, and she will be back out on the streets. This situation will
obtain until November 15th 1996, when subject will reach her majority and cease to be the concern of
this agency, wherupon I recommend her file be turned over to all major law enforcement operations in
the South-West.
Signed, sincerely yours,
Lucius J. Leonowens.
Report filed with Bruyce-Hoare Central 27-9-91.
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Fax print-out copies
cc: DOUANIER, LYNN (Dept. Child Welfare),
WESLEY. SANDRA JEANE (Barry Goldwater High),
RODRIGUEZ, HOLM (Dept. Corrections),
BERGER,HAMILTON (District Attorney's Office),
CLUTE, JOHN QUINCY (Medical Examiner),
PRINGLE, DAVID (United Press International).
PART ONE: JAZZBEAUX
I
Dying is easy, as her old man used to say, it's the coming back that's hard.
Inside her head, there was darkness. A red darkness. She was sinking slowly into it. Her optic implant
was dangling useless on her cheek, her durium skull platelocks were bent uncomfortably inside her head.
That wasn't supposed to happen. They were under guarantee. Doc Threadneedle had used only the best
scav medtech from the Thalamus Corp.
There were dead people in the road with her. The Feelgood Saloon was burning, and there were
overturned ve-hickles all around. The whole town was going up in flames.
All you need to be a freedom fighter, Petya Tcherkassoff sang on his "The World We Have Lost," is a
fiddle and a bow and a cigarette lighter.
Somewhere in the darkness outside her head, somethingmdashan animal or a personmdashwas howling
in pain.
There was a dull whumpf! as a gastank exploded. Jazzbeaux felt specks of heat on her face. The
hardtop shuddered with the impact of flying debris. She knew she was lucky not to have been cut in half
by a razor-edged cardoor playing frisbee.
Her father, of course, was dead. He had never come back.
The longer she lay here, the shorter the odds became...
... she tried to open her eyemdashthe right one, the one that was still theremdashand found it glued shut.
She had blood on her face, dried-up and mixed with grit from the road.
The preacherman had hauled her out of the Feelgood and battered her face against the road. That was
how she lost her optic implant, how her platelocks got knocked out of shape.
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The road. All her pain came from the road.
Get your kicksssssssssssssssss, the preacher had hissed, on Route SixSixSixxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx! *
* See "Route 666" in the Route 666 anthology for more background on the Spanish Fork Massacre.
She had a skullcracker of a headache, and guessed she'd been opened in several places by knifecuts,
branded in others by dollops of fire.
Sicksicksick, sicksicksick, sicksicksick, sicksicksick...
... she kept losing herself, losing her train of thought. She wished she had listened when Doc
Threadneedle tried to tell her about her brain. It's where you live, the Doc had said, you should take care
of it. Well, she had tried. A durium skullsheath doesn't come cheap. A year's worth of fenced scav had
brought her the treatment. It was supposed to be like armour inside your head. Guaranteed sound against
anything up to a direct hit in the eyeball with a ScumStopper bullet.
But the preacherman had opened up a crack, and got into her greymass. Somehow, he had wormed his
way into her private self, the place where she lived. And he had done a lot of mischief in there. She knew
her body could be fixed, but she wasn't sure about the important stuff. Doc Threadneedle couldn't
replace neurons and synapses. Even the GenTech wizards, Dr Zarathustra and W. D. Donovan, could
only reconstruct a ruined face; they couldn't do anything about a shredded psyche, a ruptured
personality, a raped memory...
... somewhere in the distance, there was gunfire. Shots were exchanged. Then, nothing. She could hear
fires crackling. The thing in pain was out of it now. Spanish Fork,Utah , was another ghost town. She
was probably the only thing alive in it. Soon, the predators would lope out of the desert for her. On the
road with the Psychopomps, she had seen some pretty weird critters, wolfrat coyotes, subhume vermin,
sharkmouth rabbits. They had to eat red meat one day out of seven.
Jessamyn.
Amanda.
Bonney.
She held onto herself, trying to come to the surface of her cranial quicksand.
Jessamyn Amanda Bonney.
Nobody called her that any more. Nobody but cops and ops and soce workers. Not since her old man.
Jessa-MYN, her Dead Daddy whispered in her inner ear, can't you be more sociable?
No, not Jessamyn. She didn't live here any more. Jazzbeaux. She was Jazzbeaux. That was her name in
the Psychopomps, that was who she was. Jazzmdashbeaux!
She brought her right hand up to her face. A numbed pain told her two of the fingers were broken. She
rubbed her eye, and tried to open it again. The blood crust cracked, and she saw the night sky.
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Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight...
... pushing hard with her elbows, she half-sat in the road. Her back ached, but her spine was
undamaged. That was something. The Feelgood was a stone shell full of glowing ashes. A half-burned
corpse sprawled on the steps, the top of its head gone. That had been the town's boss-man, Judge
Colpeper. A wind had come through with the Josephites, and blown away the man's whole world. ...I
wish I may, I wish I might...
...the starlight and the firelight went to her head like a blow, and she blinked uncontrollably. Her
damaged implant was leaking biofluid. Delicately, with an unbroken thumb and ringfinger, she eased the
ball-shaped doodad back into its socket. The connections were loose, and the optic burner didn't
respond to her impulse command. No prob. Doc Threadneedle could fix that. At least, he could if the
fault was in the machine rather than in the meat.
She found her eyepatch on the ground, and slipped it on over her optic. She pulled her hair out from
over the patchcord, and passed her fingers through it. Blood, dirt and filth came loose. Her broken
fingerbones ground painfully.
... have the wish I wish tonight.
... she was more in control now. Soon, she would be able to stand up, able to walk out of here on her
own two legs. The chapter was finished, she guessed. Andrew Jean, her lieutenant for the past two years,
was a few yards away, skin in shreds, orange beehive hairdo picked lo pieces. The corpse looked as if it
had been attacked by dagger-billed birds. The 'pomps who weren't dead had gone off with the
preacherman.
The preacher. He was the start of it. Seth was his name. Elder Seth. The Josephite.
He had seemed to be such a nothing, meek and mild in his black suit and wide-brimmed hat, calm
behind his mirrorshades, surrounded by his quivering flock.
Such a nothing.
The motorwagons were pulled over to the side of the interstate when the Psychopomps' advance scouts
first sighted them. Jazzbeaux was on her way to a pre-arranged duel of honour with the Daughters of the
American Revolution. There was a territorial matter to be settled. It was an important fight, and she
shouldn't have been conce with petty pickings like the hymn-singers. She could have passed by without
rumbling the Josephites, or just given them a light pasting and taken their food and fuel. She had other
business to cover, major league business. There was no need to take the time to beat up on the new
pioneers.
But there was Elder Seth, standing tall, and smiling just like her old man. On sight, she knew she would
have to take him down.
The scav was pathetic. She took Seth's mirrorshades. At first, she just wanted to look into his eyes, to
taste his fear. But there was no fear. She hadn't been able to read anything from the ice-chips that stared
back at her. Not even when she had Andrew Jean and the others cut out a couple of the pioneers and
pizza them across the two-lane blacktop. She remembered the names of the dead. Brother Akins,
Brother Finnegan, Brother Dzundza. She never forgot the names of her dead.
She could have killed him then. Done it easy, shoved a gun into his mouth and squeezed off a
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ScumStopper through the roof of his mouth, exploded his brain.
But she let him live. She took his dark glasses, and let him live. Two mistakes. Bad ones.
... citizens, Psychopomps, Cav. There were lots of casualties. Jazzbeaux had been out of it for most of
the fighting, but she could tell from the leavings that things had got serious. Some of the people looked as
if they had been torn apart by animals with more in the way of teeth and claws than the Good Lord
intended for them to have. Cheeks, a gaudy girl who had been riding with the 'pomps for the last few
months, was literally crushed flat into the road, dead eyes staring from a foot-wide face. A farmer was
burned to the bone inside his unmarked Oshkosh B'Gosh bib-alls. A black US Cavalryman was slumped
against the front window of the drug store, dead without a mark on him. She unbuttoned his holster, and
took out his sidearm. She had lost her own gun back in the Feelgood.
The official killing iron was heavier than she was used to, but it would do the job. She unbuckled the
yellowlegs' gunbelt, and cinched it around her hips.
Then, she picked up a half-brick and threw it through the drugstore window. Picking the glass away
from the display, she reached for a squirter of morph-plus. She exposed her wrist, and jabbed the
painkiller into her bloodstream.
Her head clearing slightly, she filled her jacket pockets with pills and ju-jujubes. She popped a glojo
capsule into her mouth, and rolled it around on her tongue, not biting into it. The buzz seeped through her
body. Some of the pain went away. Some.
There was something strange about the preacher's shades. Jazzbeaux had been wearing them on and off
for two days.
They were clearer than regular dark glasses, and did funny things to her. Once or twice, she thought she
saw things in the periphery of her vision that couldn't be there. Indistinct things, but somehow unsettling.
"Whassamatter, Jazzbie," Andrew Jean had asked, "you a loca ladybug? You're spookola in spades this
ayem..."
After a while, she began to get migraines. She took the glasses off, and thought about throwing them
away, driving her cyke over them. But she just slung them around her neck.
The world looked real again, but she found herself wanting to put the glasses on again. It was like when
she was eight, and Dead Daddy put her on Hero-9 to keep her under control. She had had to wean
herself off the dope over a period of years, and still felt the occasional urge for a H-9 hit. This was an
irrational longing too, but after a while it became irresistible. She fought it for as long as she could, but it
was such a silly thing. She was a War Chief. She wasn't afraid to wear a pair of glasses.
This time, the effect was different. Colours were brighter, but less sharp. There were shadows where
there shouldn't be. It was a little like a Hero-9 or Method-! buzz, but without any of the elation.
Somehow, with the glasses on, she felt compelled to look back over her shoulder all the time.
Like one that on a lonesome road doth walk in fear and dread, Tasha sang on her Ancient Mariner
Mambo album, and having once turned round walks on, and turns no more his head; because he knows
a frightful fiend doth close behind him tread.
It was like that. You didn't see the frightful fiend, but that didn't mean it wasn't there.
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The preacher was coming after her, coming for his property. That shouldn't have scared her.
But it did.
... There was a well nearby. Her water detectormdashnow lostmdashhad twanged when they crossed
the Spanish Fork city limits. She would need a drink soon, and food.
She couldn't find a ve-hickle that worked. She supposed Elder Seth must have taken them all with him
when he left in his motorwagon train. He would be half-way toSalt Lake City by now.
Now, she was coming for him. He had done his best to destroy her, and she was still here. She was still
Jazzbeaux.
She squatted by the mess that had been Andrew Jean, and said her goodbyes. Andrew Jean had been a
good 'pomp, a good gangbuddy. Nobody deserved to die like that.
Except the preacherman. Elder Seth needed to die slowly. He had been invincible earlier, when he had
changedmdashthe real self pushing out from behind his human maskmdashbut now he was her meat.
The preacher had taken a girl out to kill her, but had made of her a weapon which could be used against
him.
Jazzbeaux walked away from Andrew Jean. Just off the main street, she found the first of the carrion
creatures. It was a bad one, a mew-tater. There was some kind of housecat in there, but it was the size
of a moose, had white skunkmarks down its back, and the buds of vestigial extra heads hanging in its
neckfur. It had gathered three or four corpses, and was playing with them, slicing them out of their
clothes. Its saliva was corrosive, and etched patterns in the pale, dead skin of its supper.
Jazzbeaux stretched her fingers and lightly rested them on the butt of her scavved gun. The creature
turned its head to look at her with slit-pupil led eyes the size of saucers. It showed its needle-sharp teeth,
and flared a furry ruff. It could have leaped. With her broken fingers, she probably couldn't have
outdrawn the thing.
But she met its eyes. It recognized a fellow predator, and backed down, returning its attention to its
food. She walked away.
For the first time since she iced her Dad, Jazzbeaux felt she really had a purpose on this dull earth.
She hoped the old man would be proud of her.
II
This is ZeeBeeCee, The Station That's Got It All, bringing you What You Want twenty-four hours a
day, sponsored by GenTech, the bioproducts division that really cares...
In just five minutes, it will be time for Keep Fighting Fit With Amie, and some helpful advice on the
maintenance of muscle implants in the elderly. Then we'll be bringing you Casey Kasem's Wide World of
Executions, with some remarkable footage of garotting inMorocco , burning-at-the-stake inThailand and,
for the traditionalists among you, an Olde Englishe Publicke Hangingge from Tyburn Tree
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inLondon,England . But first, tune into reality with Lola Stechkin, bringing you The Pre-Breakfast Bulletin
from the comfort of her dancercise studio...
"Hi, Early Birds ofAmerica ! It's August the 27th, 1995, and this is Lola, inviting you to stretch and strain
and lose that pain. Here it is, folks, all the news you can handle...
"Washington,D.C.Last night. President North fielded tough questions concerning the controversial
economic policies of his administration. Accused by some factions of bringing the nation close to
bankruptcy with the Big Bonus, his personalized combination of high spending, high unemployment and
decreased taxation, the President claimed 'we'll just all have to wait and see how it pans out, won't we?'
Dr Ottokar Proctor, head of the presidential think-tank, and widely believed to be the architect of the Big
Bonus, was unavailable for comment, although he is scheduled to make an appearance at a film festival
inTampa,Florida , where he will give a lecture on the Sisyphean influence of Wile E. Coyote and the
Road Runner on contemporary American culture.
"Salt Lake City,Deseret . The first wagontrain of Josephite resettlers, under the leadership of Elder
Nguyen Seth, is due to arrive in the deserted conurbation sometime before noontime today. Elder Seth
has vowed to reclaim the wilderness from the elements as the Mormons did before him. A bill providing,
among other things, for the renaming of the State ofUtah , has been passed unopposed through
Congress. The recent demise of Representative Osmond ofUtah , who had planned to speak against the
bill, is still unexplained.
"The horror murders of the inhabitants of a quiet suburban estate within the Savannah PZ have been
attributed by Ms Redd Harvest of the Turner-Harvest-Ramirez Agency to the serial murderer who signs
himself 'The Tasmanian Devil.' T-H-R claim to be following several leads, and hope to make an arrest
soon. 'The Tasmanian Devil' has claimed over 350 victims in all quarters of theUnited States in the last
year, and is noted for the savage ingenuity of his frenzied attacks. Surviving eyewitnesses are few in
number, and give contradictory descriptions of the killer, but all agree on his unnatural strength and
viciousness. 'We'll get him,' Ms Harvest has sworn. More on this as it breaks.
"Moscow. Talks broke down today between the Soviet and Japanese delegations who have been
negotiating over recent territorial clashes over culture-krill-harvesting operations off theislandofSakhalin .
Premier Boris Yeltsin has announced that he still hopes to come to an amicable agreement with the
Imperial representative and the board of GenTech. In an editorial statement later this morning, Akira
Kobayashi, the Chief Executive Officer of GenTech East, will explain how unreasonable and inefficient
the Soviets are proving on this issue.
"Don't you think it's unfair of nature to insist that humanity only have two dentitions? The set-up was fine
when life expectancy was barely thirty years, but with modern advances in medtech ensuring that all
solvent citizens can enjoy a full and active life well into their 100s, one set of milk teeth and one set of
adult teeth just isn't enough. Well, thanks to GenTech, you can now have sown the buds of a third,
fourth, fifth and even sixth set of genuine enamel-coated teeth. For as little as $500 a tooth, we can get
you great-grandpas back on the taffy and rare steaks. GenTech, the biodivision that cares...
"Glastonbury,England. Prime Minister Archer today opens the state-sponsored popular music festival,
showcasing the best of British culture. He has announced that hewill join patriotic singer Johnny Lydon,
host of the popular British variety program The Johnny Lydon Band Show, in a rendition of the star's
biggest hit, 'God Save the Queen.' Other British showbiz greats scheduled to appear include Matt
Monro, Clive Dunn, Tessie O'Shea, Norman Wisdom. Mrs Mills, Valerie Singleton and the comic duo
of Benny Elton and Ricky Mayall, with American guest stars Liberace and Conway Twitty reaffirming the
Special Relationship. Rumours that Ken Dodd plans to come out of retirement for this one last concert
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have been denied by the reclusive multi-billionaire entertainer's manager, Peter Hall. John Lennon, the
leader of Her Majesty's Loyal Opposition, who was briefly a member of an unsuccessful group called
The Quarrymen back in the 1960s, was apparently asked if he wanted to reform to appear on the bill.
'Nobody was interested back then,' he told our reporter, 'I don't see why they should be now, like.'
"Manila, thePhilippines . President-for-life Imelda Marcos yesterday dedicated a new statue of her late
husband, the former president-for-life, and announced, after singing twenty-eight patriotic songs to the
assembled multitudes, that she would set in motion a new scheme to clear up the streets of the city by
personally firing the first bullet. Rebel forces remain encamped in the North of the islands, apparently
supported by a Chinese Guomintang warlord and a Swiss-based multinat. Imelda will be guest-hosting
the popular ZeeBeeCee show, You and Your Shoes, for the next three weeks.
"Puerto Belgrano,Antarctica . Following President Galtieri's 75% increase of the levy on non-Argentine
mining interests around the South Pole, violence flared up again as British wildcat oilmen tried to even the
score after their resounding defeat in the Malvinas War of 1981. 'Wild' Charlie Mander, the British
consul, and Sheriff Felipe Almodovar, the self-styled 'Law South of Tierra del Fuego,' met for talks in an
attempt to reach a settlement, but tempers rose and shots were exchanged. Ice Kold Katie, the Scottish
esperado who has robbed several Argentine-owned banks and trading stores on the continent,
celebrated the increase by ambushing and killing a troop of Argentine snowcat cavalrymen on their way
to Esperanza.
"Ladies, don't you wish you had breasts as nice as mine? Well, thanks to GenTech biodiv, your wish can
be granted. Personally developed by Dr Zarathustra, winner of the Nobel Prize for Genetic Surgery, our
pectoral pump treatments can yield astonishing results. Even Warren Beatty won't be able to tell the
difference. This is Shiralee St Croix ofSaginaw,Michigan . We treated one of her breasts with the
GenTech pectoral pump, and the other with a product manufactured by one of our competitors. I think
you can see the difference for yourself. GenTech, the biodivision that cares...
"Teheran, the Pan-Islamic Congress. Today, the Ayatollah Bakhtiar, chairperson of the Sword of Allah
Jihad Committee, sentenced to death in absentia graphic novelist Neil Gaiman, author of the
award-winning Tintin in the Land of the Ragheads, which has been widely interpreted as a personal
attack on the Moslem faith and the continuing Islamic occupation of Greece, Albania, Macedonia,
Kosovo and Montenegro. Gaiman has gone into hiding, but claims to be still working on his next work, a
reconstruction of the myth of Desperate Dan, portraying the comic cowboy as an Indian-hating mass
murderer. Viewers are invited to fax in with their guesses about where Gaiman is holed up. The closest to
the truth will win a thousand dollars credit at their local Titancorp comics store, a Captain Haddock
T-shirt and an all-expenses-paid holiday for two in balmyBeirut .
"Vatican City. Petya Tcherkassoff, the Russian singing idol, today had a personal audience with Pope
Georgi. Tens of thousands of fans throngedSt Peter's Square to glimpse the pair. What was discussed
between the two has not been revealed, although Tcherkassoff did modestly state to the press that 'the
cheloviek in the white hat has a bigger following than I do.' Tcherkassoff's current album release,' Songs
for Suicidal Lovers, has been at the top of the musichip charts for six straight months.
"The Isle of Skye,Scotland . Sad news for children everywhere. Despite the donation of more than thirty
million European Currency Units raised by GenTech-sponsored concerts in America and the Soviet
Union, Wally the Whalemdashbelieved to be the last cetacean in the Atlantic Oceanmdashdied today of
natural causes totally unconnected with the acceptable levels of pollution in the area. Iain Menzies Banks,
mayor of the island, has mooted a plan for the preservation of the whale as the centrepiece of
Wallyworld, a luxury tourist preserve and family theme park. The whale will be coated inside and out
with acrylics, and Banks intends to open a restaurant called The Jonah Snackbar in its stomach. Wally
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摘要：

DarkFutureII KrokodilTears JackYeovil GENERALINFORMATIONKNOWNALIASES:Jazzbeaux,RedJesse,Juicer,J'Am,MinnieMolotov,othersGeneratedbyABCAmberLITConverter,http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlDATEOFBIRTH:November15th,1978PLACEOFBIRTH:DenverNoGo,ColoradoSEX:FemRACE:Cauc.STATUS:Single,juvieHEIGHT:5'4"EY...

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