The Permutation

Breakthrough (Part 2) Michelle

MILD CONTENT WARNING - GRAPHIC SCENE OF GORE

Thursday 6:03 p.m. November 3rd

"No more chances Kim. Face it. You struck out. Come on back, I'll make sure to assign you something more your speed."

Michelle Kim hated sports metaphors and refused to be dismissed by one. She knew she was onto something. Something big. The second she stepped foot in Lancet Falls, that niggling sensation in her spine she'd come to associate with a juicy story, had been her constant companion. Early in her career, Michelle learned it was far better to ask for forgiveness than permission. No, scratch that, if the story was big enough, schmucks like her boss, Marty Werner, would be asking her for forgiveness.

By the time Michelle had convinced Marty there was a story in Lancet Falls, The Chronicle was the last to the party. At every turn, Michelle and Ron , the official photographer for The Chronicle, got to the scene in time to mop up the sloppy seconds. The two even managed to miss that masked idiot jumping around trying to fight crime, when just about every news outlet in the state had caught a glimpse of him at least once. Still, that feeling in her spine remained, taunting her, reminding her that she was close to something monumental.

Of all the things her parents had shoved onto her, there's two things she never let go. Never give up was one, and culture is everything. While other reporters tried to chase the story, Michelle focused on the people and learned their culture. She intertwined herself with the culture of the town or community the story affected most. Michelle became a student and pseudo-member of Lancet Falls, consuming every bit of gossip, hearsay, and tall tale she could stomach, and it was about to pay off big.

The new story was the the most recent murder victim, Cade Jahns, had been mutilated beyond recognition. The rumor around town was that the Lancet Falls PD had to bring on a counselor and offer sessions to the first officers on scene. Needless to say, the powers that be decided a discovery like this needed to be shielded from the citizens lickety split, much to the dismay of your common, everyday story sniffer. Michelle knew a shot of the victim, some juicy details, and the initial story would be enough to catapult her back on top. All the other news organizations knew it too, but they didn't have what Michelle had. An in.

Word on the street was the body resided in Sleepy Days Funeral Home under armed guard to protect the memory of a long standing member of the community. Michelle's digging had unearthed the weakest link, or links to be precise. Their names were Perry Durant and Kevin Moody.

Officer Durant, one of the rotating security guards, always wanted to be a star on the silver screen, but the chronic case of Lupus of his twin sister, Julia, and a mound of hospital bills tethered him to this small town like an anchor around his throat.

Kevin Moody, the town body stylist, as the town had taken to calling him, was on a quest. A quest to reel in a legend, Old Smokey. Old Smokey was a largemouth bass rumored to be a whopping three feet long, and to top it off, it was coated by a dusky coat of scales rather than the customary murky green. The mortician had been chasing after that fish for years, and Michelle knew Old Smokey's weakness, Cheese Puffs.

Rumor had it that Hester Jenkins, the best damn taxidermist in Idaho, had caught Old Smokey and released him.

"This town needs Old Smokey, and I ain't gonna be the one to take im' from em."

The now fabled words of Hester Jenkins travelled between folks on team Jenkins like wildfire, but not a peep crossed over to the side of Team Moody. Claudia Jenkins, head of the PTA, had declared Kendra Moody, the tramp that stole the book club right from under her nose, her mortal enemy, and pity the poor soul that dare tell Moody her husband's secret.