Twenty miles of hard road lay between them.

Twenty miles of hard road lay between them. He watched her through his hunting partner's binoculars and wondered how many days it would take to catch up. And was it worth it?

She was his first human hunt and he'd paid heavily for it. They'd met in a club two nights before and she'd fobbed him off on her disinterested, hatchet-faced wingman. Now she was

following him through the crowded city street, about 20 yards back. At length he stopped at a theater and bought a ticket. She smiled, knowing that the darkness would

hide her enormous malignant hair-packed growth. The growth was jammed between her nostril and cheek. It was named Edward the III, it spoke to her with a British accent. It told

her to kill the poor. So she began her search for the homeless.

The task was simple enough, all she had to do was to follow the smell. The sweet stench of a homeless person was something she had longed for, just like her strong morbid desire to

tackle them, and wrestle them out of their underwear before running home with her prize in order to boil it and drink the juice. Thank god for Craigslist for keeping that desire in

the family, so to speak. One would think that eventually a trail of used underwear might draw suspicion, but so far it had only drawn faint smiles. She felt safe to continue her

journey deep into the most sordid corners of "The District" as it was called. She could always find her way back to his apartment by following the underwear trail.

And that's how Hillary busted Slick Willy for the third and final time.