Jess and her entourage made it back to the hotel before dawn.
And our star among stars desired one crank and ecstasy-enhanced (or
induced, depending on whom you talk to) orgy with whomever there
that wanted to do that with her. So, understandably, Sage, with
Evan's help, got the chemistry prepared and they did the pills and the
smoke and got naked to hell with Jessica there in the living room of
their main suite. She was the girl. God. What more to be said. They
followed her awesome lead, beginning with watching her feel and rub
herself as everyone did the same with themselves. Then she proposed
that they all "dive in" to the middle of the floor and it was one mighty
free-for-all. Aw man. Talk about living.
        Well, Kit had just participated from the fringe because of his
wounds, and had gone to bed ahead of the others, but found out that
he still ended up with Jess when they woke up together that afternoon.
And, after checking Pute, their plan involved pretty much just
mellowing out and naps and such as the Party carried on there in Paris
and around the world. And they phoned all the family and partners
who weren't there with them one more time: Ginny, Craig, Maria,
Julian and the boys, Alaska, Florida. And $25M of Gold was ready
for pickup at the Trout. Holy moly.
        But it was definitely Jessy's world. She was the celebrity-
millionairess-goddess-heroine-legend, and some paparazzi were
permanently entrenched on the sidewalks below their balcony. Young
kids in the street kept cheering to see her and raved when she stepped
out on the balcony, for them, Jess bringing the other girls out there
with her. The boys inside just accepted their fate, being mere men,
and joked about that and other mortal men shit.
        The WPF was already destroying and capturing the weapons of
war inside the non-signatory countries. A few more countries had
surrendered and were immediately enjoying the benefits and the
World Party. Other WPG business was proceeding as well,
nothwithstanding the Party, mainly just the humanitarian flights,
though. And Jess fired off an e-mail to their crews in Istanbul,
praising them to heck and asking for an update when they got back
from Chechnya.
        There were several concerts going continuously in Paris, and
Jess was asked to play all day, whoever energetic enough at the time
answering the phone for her. She was still tired, but, funnily, she
thought people would be tired of her music, since she had not come
up with any new songs in the last 24. She finally accepted the
invitation to play at the Execs' private party that afternoon. The
leaders of the nations would be attending. Of course, she would have
gone just to see Sundance again. So she did that, Kit and all of them
going with her, naturally, and they had some time to talk with Boris,
Hua, Bill, Sunny and the other Execs before taking another break
back at the hotel. She played again at the concert under the Arche
that night, doing over an hour set, plus encores, with the guys. And
she was still the item, coming up with some new stuff at the end.
        That Sunday eventually, though right on time, came into the
world and our old world was doing the greatest it had in a very long
time. Humanitarian missions were reaching everyone who needed
help, and the recipients were eating, drinking, resting, healing and
watching the concerts and everything else, including themselves, on
the big world TV show along with the rest of we brothers and sisters.
The war zones were quiet. And there were hardly even any murders
anywhere. On the planet! Things they were a changin'. Of course,
school was out. Ow. But those murders were looked at very hard
and very quickly, and seemed black-ops involved.
        Upstairs in the hotel, their phone was ringing incessantly until
Jessy took it off the hook. It had all been music, movie or other
contract offers for her or the other girls anyway. Pretty much
everyone was spread out in all the rooms of their main suite in some
phase of nudity or another, and that was such a fine sight to see.
And in the king-size bed in the master bedroom, Jess was kissing
Kit awake asking, "so, uh, king...what the heck's our plan now?"
        "Mmmmm..." he kissed her back, "sex?"
        "Well, yeah..." she touched his guess-what, "but I was kinda
wonderin' about after that."
        "Mmmmm...ok," he touched her you-know, "why?"
        "Mmmmm...good question," she purred, and they went at it
once more again. The others were coming through their room to use
the bathroom, but our two kept right on going.
        Then Buz came through with Savvy and Keri, taking their turn
at the bathroom, and he yelled out, "they still HAVE it!" And the
word went forth.
        And Kit still had her, which was a main topic out in the living
room and even outside out on the street and around Paris and
beyondo. How mighty a question, Jess knew full well. She could
have any man, which included any young man. For the moment,
though, she just plied Cody with, "do ya love me, Mister Hotey?"
        Well, that was always a quest for werdz for him. And an old
song too which, wouldn't you dam know, was being done at
Monument Valley during those very moments. And he told me later
that he would have picked up her guitar and sung some kind of
answer, despite the certain clavicle pain, if there had been any hope
of finding the words and music to tell her how much he does. "Yes,
precious, I think I do," he left it at, though just kidding to see what
her reaction might be.
        "Is that it?!" she came right back. "Do you know you can fart...
I mean flatulate...your way to the moon, buster?! There're a half
BILLION men who would crawl through shit just to be NEAR me!"
She was feigning seriousness as well as she can, which is dam good,
but Kit was pretty sure she was razzing.
        "Woo...there's a pretty picture," he answered, the back of his
mind wondering if she would be moving on in the near future, besides
thinking that maybe she should, for her sake. But he just added, "and
would that be your fecal matter, beautiful? Cuz if that's the case, I
would do that too. I know you know that. Heck, I'd stick yours up
my nose just to see you." He was just going along with her picture,
what the hey, avoiding the split-up issue.
        "Liar," she jibed, and pinched his foreskin.
        "Yow! OK, OK, yeah...I lied. I'd want more than just to see
ya."
        "Well, all right then. That's better," she smiled and laid back into
his lips and body.
        "Whew, you really had me worried," he mumbled into her
breasts, figuring on foregoing bringing up anything about her going
until later. Maybe much later. It was still time to celebrate. They were
home free, except for the possibilities. The whole thing could backfire.
Implode. Poopygate. They were aware of that, though, checking with
Pute again as they took a break from their passion. Things were
extremely OK, though. There was not even any posse on their trail
that the computers could detect. Kit was taking full inventory, too -
all the initials of agencies - making dam sure, and he let out a mild
nirvanic scream: "shoot far, darlin', this thing's WORKIN'!" And she
moved her mouth down to his glan. Yep, it was going to be awful
hard for him to bring up her going. But he did wonder where black
ops had disappeared to. Something didn't feel right about that. They
don't give up that easily, he thought. But Pute or Cyby had nary a
thing. And he thought about their faithful little lapper and his trusty
companion back at the ranch. What a heroine and hero they were
themselves, the guys had been telling them a lot lately. But Mister
and Miz Chippy had been a lot more interested in getting some
privacy lately themselves, though had appreciated the "'tudes".
        "Yeah, I love you," Kit returned his mind to the first order of
biz, however, and Jessy started to suck on him. "Awwwww, your
holy shit, precious, I exalt you...have I told you that yet?"
        "O, blow me away, why don't ya?" she looked up at him with
a smile, then returned to his pete.
        Well, Josh and Kenja wanted to get married, those two
announced a little later when they came out of the water closet after
utilizing the bidet and shower together. There WAS a lot going on.
And there they were, everyone coming into the bedroom wondering
about plans, all of them naked as newborns. Tits, butts and organs
everywhere. Ho chee mama! And the boys worked the real issue in
their heads: how to keep that going.
        So, Kit and Jess were cooling down and talking things over with
Josh and Kenj, then Fleesh sauntered in with BR, Juli and Gabey, all
naked too, of course, Flee smiling, "none of us can decide who we
love most of all, dang it," then asked what was the news from Pute.
        Our two filled her in, going through it all with her in bed. And
when Flee had the whole story she started letting go. "It's DONE!
WE WON!" and got Jess and Kit celebrating fervently with her, Flece
jumping up and down on the bed screaming away about "VICTORY!"
and "TRIUMPH!", the others wondering what the heck had their
super trio been doing, besides the drugs. Most of them knew, though.
Maybe not the whole extent. But they knew. And celebrated too.
        "I amor vous," Kit whispered in Jess's ear, just for romance
sake, plus to let her know that he was always working on it, at least
most of the time.
        "How do you know?" Jess was just being farking relentless. But
that's why he loves her more than any man ever loved a woman, Kit
telling her that too. And that was his truth. He does. And they all
surmised that that was why he had her. Hell, it had to be something.
        "I could leave you, you know, Cody," she laid it out, plain and
plenty simple, buffly sitting cross-legged on their bed next to him,
right in front of everyone; yeah, she was serious. Yeah right. The
others lapped it up and razzed away on Kit.
        "You'd come bock," he gave her in Arnold affectation, still
laying across the bed, but saying plenty more in his array of facial
expressions, anywhere from 'you should go (for your own good)' to
'will you marry me', and the rest of them all "oooo'd", "wooo'd" and
such.
        "Sure, cuz I'd feel sorry for ya," she goaded him, then laid into
his face with her lips, to the others' cheers and laughs. Shute, she did
love their ole cooter, they realized some more. And the break-up
would have been awful big news on the streets outside, and probably
anywhere else.
        'God, I love you,' he formed with his lips, on hers, in their hot
passion. And her's were saying the same.
        Well. It did seem that their war was won. And it seemed too
that Jessy was still in love with the Codester Quixote. And all of them
there seemed to love one another. It was pretty darn cool there in that
bedroom. In the Presidential Suite. In the Ritz. In Paris. Like some
dam crazy rock band, or something, they seemed. And BR was the
most smit at the time, they all seemed to vote.
        But they did get around to plans. It was going to be skeedaddle
home or wherever, watch out for black ops or initials or whomever,
try out that movie stuff and do an album, watch the WPG progress
and help where they could, mine the mine and build up North Air
and Rockhead and their new cabin. And stuff of that nature.
        The concerts were still going strong that Sunday, gone right
through the night and day, of course. The guys listened in on the TV
as Puter found, and they bought, a used Gulfstream Jet to get back to
the States in. They needed all those seats. They bequeathed the Lear
to Genavieve and Will and signed them, Buz, Savvy and Keri up to
fly the 727 and 707 for those North Air connections out of Europe,
as long as they wanted to, though Buz was definitely in the band too.
Heck, they all were. And room service brought up a huge "dunch",
which was quite the pig. Eaten off of a lot of skin, too.
        The WPF was continuing the attacks on military equipment in
those unsigned countries, the most troublesome spots first,
commando teams going in where necessary, otherwise Cruise or
other smart missiles or bombs. Not too many people had been hurt
so far, certainly no non-combatants, and none of the WPF. It was
good. Ethiopia, then Afghanistan, were the most recent to surrender
and join, the G whittling the opponents down. All the nukes were
bought, and their shipment to the recycling depots had even begun.
And signed countries' armed forces were standing down
alphabetically and transferring to the WPF, the ceremonies all being
covered on TV, along with the concerts and the rest, the stand
downs appreciating New Zealand at that moment in time. But those
were just ceremonies. The WPF had all the forces Arn needed and
wanted to do the job.
        Our guys took a short excursion from the hotel to see some
sights, Jessy's fans sticking to her like honey. After a late snack at a
sidewalk cafe, they ducked into a blues cabaret. Jess, naturally, was
asked to sit in, and her set was recorded (harder to find now than
the Pyramid CD).

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