The Cybersybils present Enter the Jackalope

"What did you do now?" she muttered, sitting down, not daring to stare at the only remaining patron besides her friend. "And why are you smoking...you've encouraged that man over there to light a cigarette...ooh, so much smoke. Why are you such a little troublemaker?"

"Oops, I did it again," Olivia sang, flinging the mag at her associate. "Juan Carlos the International Terrorist Jackalope...who is this guy, anyway?"

"Oh my! Juan Carlos the JACKAL?" Madeline exclaimed, staring at the photo in shock. "Do you know how long I have been avoiding him, Olivia? Why, Juan Carlos is the premier assassin in Europe - perhaps the world! Gods, you didn't insult him, did you?"

"Cool your jets, I took the thing from some losers, who were salivating over the jack of no trades...I mean, jackal. Now really, Madeline...this skinny dweeb is an assassin? He probably said that to make up for a deficiency of his own down in Central America..."

"Shhh, Olivia, I am telling you, Juan Carlos is not only a killer, he is...well, extremely dangerous. Women flock about him for he is mysterious and, they say, a master of the ancient Taoist bedroom arts..."

The Real Jackal

"Garçon, vin rouge, s'il-vous plaît," Olivia gestured, "Bedroom arts, eh? Do tell...he bores his girlfriends to death, perchance?"

Yep

"How droll," Madeline laughed, annoyed by the strong tobacco fumes, "he's been married fifteen times, it's true..."

"What!! Fifteen wives!! Now, that is a lot of boredom! Even for a jackass!"

"Juan Carlos has led a very tragic life, my friend. His first love, Beatrice, grew up at his side in the beautiful region outside Saragossa, Spain. The Jackal's family and her own were neighboring estate owners...the two eventually wed at the tender age of sixteen, happier than a pair of turtledoves. Their union would have proved perfect, a match made in Paradise, however..." Madeline stopped, voice choked with emotion.

The Death of Beatrice

"However what? Beatrice caught her Don Juan jack-eloping with a milkmaid?"

B Sirius

"No, stop playing the cynic. This is serious. A young housemaid, jealous of the couple's happiness, one day went into the neighboring wood and picked some poisonous mushrooms, slipping them to Beatrice at supper. The poor child expired forthwith, at the dinner table, dying in her new husband's arms."

Madeline's lilting voice choked as she was overcome by her own words. Olivia stared blankly in disbelief as she poured two glasses of wine.

"You're not making this story up, right? And he really is a gun-for-hire? Sounds pretty sketch to me, Maddie..."

"Yes, sadly, it's all too true. Following his young wife's death, Juan Carlos became a hardened rifleman who traveled the globe for assignments, picking-up tidbits of esoteric information along the way. Always on the move, he met and married one woman after another, searching for Beatrice in the arms of each, yet, never finding his true complement again."

"Sure, I still say she caught him with the milkmaid!" Olivia mocked, unimpressed.

That's right, Toots

"Have you no heart, girl? Don't you see...you are meant to find Juan Carlos, to restore his faith in humanity, to bring serenity back to his searching spirit. Now, pour us another glass before I explain your destiny!"

At that moment, the gentleman from the corner sashayed his way to the Cybersybils' table.

"How about some company, girls...I'm Lexi Graham...my friends at Vogue, and positively everyone back home in South Beach, call me Sexy for short...but not for long..."

"Enough, you silly savage...have a bloody seat already," Olivia teased. As their new guest eagerly took a chair, the Peyton girl added, "This is the incomparable Ms. Madeline, and I am Miss Olivia. Now, you wouldn't be the famed interior designer of such eclectic home collections as Debbie Does Dungeons, would you?" she encouraged.

"YES...that's moi...and I'm coming out this spring with a new fashion collection...sshhh, don't tell a soul...Crazy Corset Queens...what do you think?"

"Featuring yourself, I imagine," Olivia snapped, as she sat back in her chair, laughing uncontrollably. "You know, Waisted might be a better name for the show!"

"Olivia Primrose!" Madeline admonished, "Do have some manners! Why, Monsieur Graham is a serious fashion pioneer, and NOT somebody with whom to be trifled."

"WRONG...I am one of the most oft-trifled-with boys in Europe! So, just what are you two lovelies doing in Gisors?"

"Well, I suppose we could tell you...if you're really from South Beach, then you are a true son of Versace, and you're trustworthy," stated Olivia, rather worn out from an afternoon of abstract boredom. As the soon-to-be-couturier nodded in agreement, Olivia continued, "Heard of this fella, Sexy Stuff?" and she casually pointed to the half-crumpled copy of Match.