"Lacey?" said Uncle Mac, surprised. "Where is she that she has to use regular mail?"
He checked the return address but there was none. The address however, caught his attention.
"For Uncle M, unless he's snockered, in which case give to Farm Girl."
"What sort of address is that? And there are holes in this envelope too. How did this arrive, anyway?"
"Owl post." Vida said.
"Oh shit." said Uncle Mac, "She's looking for the primary Potter/Hogwarts timeline. She should at least have taken Millie with her. Lacey doesn't cope with magic well; too much faith in firepower."
"She did take Millie with her." Vida said, "In full sorceress mode too"
"Oh shit." repeated Uncle Mac.
"Now what, you profane old Coot?" queried Farm Girl, who had slithered in through the garden side door.
"I had my heart set on some of Millie's waffles." said the Coot, rocking back in his chair and slapping well padded ribs, "But Lacey shanghaied her way the hell and gone into outermost wormhole-ville. Looks like Duncan dog nuts again."
"Oh, I'm sure Farm Girl would be happy to warm something up for you." Vida G said innocently.
"What does the note say, anyway?" inquired Farm Girl, wagging a finger at Vida.
"Well lets see" said U-Mac and popped the old fashioned wax seal, "Hmmm. Hogwarts... Potter... Moody... weredragons... bullets ineffective - hah! Told you... oh here we go."
"She wants to know can her Mom and two sisters come for the Holidays. Hard to imagine Lacey having a mother. Do we know anything about these ladies?"
"Oh sure; bunch of Girl Scouts", said Farm Girl, sliding behind a keyboard, "I'll put them on the big screen."
"This is the little sister, Stacey..."
"She looks like a nice sweet kid.", said Uncle M, "And look, she has her own cutlery, she can help Leatherface in the kitchen if she has a mind to."
"She's a master of make up and disguise. Try to imagine her as an 80 year old." said Vida G.
"Try to imagine her naked." suggested Farm Girl.
"Schweet!" exclaimed Uncle Mac without thinking.
"Really, Angus", said Farm Girl, "You are a warped and depraved trailer load of pond slime. And that is a scurrilous canard on slimes of all species, everywhere. That sweet and innocent little bit of scarlet fluff is none other Mother Forker, if the name means anything to you?"
"The Pitchfork Serial Killer?" said Uncle M, obviously surprised.
"None other!" said Vida.
"Wow!", exclaimed Uncle Mac, "What's the butchers bill up to these days?"
"Twenty two, but one is disputed." said Farm Girl, "One might be the work of a copy cat."
"Lacey's influence I guess", said Uncle Mac.
"Maybe", said FG, "but probably not. Remember, Lacey wasn't around much when Red here was growing up, and she was a good girl back then; an MP, a Seattle cop, a private investigator..."
"Stripper and bank robber don't forget." said Uncle Mac.
"Yes, but that was later on. I think big sister Tracey may be the culprit."
Farm Girl tapped a few keys.
"Christ on a Harley", said Uncle Mac, and his tone was reverential if his words were not.
"I thought you might say something like that. A freelance contract killer like Lacey, but with no scruples, no mercy, and no qualms about the target. And possibly the best with a rifle in the US."
Uncle Mac looked up. "Better than Lace?"
"Almost impossible to say, since neither one apparently ever misses."
"Better than me?" inquired Vida to an spontaneous outburst of hilarity from Uncle and FG, and also from Mallory who had floated over from some recess in the Shed to see what was causing the excitement.
"What?" said a petulant Vida, "I'm getting to be a very good shot, everybody says so!"
"What everybody says," said Uncle Mac, "when you aren't around, is that you couldn't hit a bull in the ass with a shotgun, if you were using it to check it's prostate. That's what everybody says, just to set the record straight."
"Oh I say old man! A trifle harsh don't you think?", interjected Mallory, ever the gentleman.
"But am I wrong?"
"Erm. No. I believe I heard our own Auntie A express some such sentiment right after Vida's difficulty with Victor."
"Difficulty? She missed Victor Romanov by a country mile!", said Uncle Mac.
"I...", said Vida.
"You missed him three times!"
"But...", said Vida.
"Once from 70 feet!"
"Yes...". said Vida.
"And you blew a hole through Violets house and she still has not stopped bitchin' about it!"
"Well", said Vida, "I need more practice!"
"We've been through this", said Farm Girl, "next is Momma Delacroix."
"A cookie bakin' homebody kind o' gal, is she?" said Uncle Mac, with no real hope of being correct.
"Sure." said Farm Girl and tapped a key, "If you like cookies made from gelignite and we're talking about St. Cecelia's Home for the Criminally Insane."
"Meet Casey Delacroix, a veritable Betty Crocker."
"Ah!", said Uncle Mac "Stacey's mom still got it goin' on! Well they look like a lovely family and I'm sure we'll be delighted."
He grabbed a pen, wrote "Y'all come" on the bottom of the note, stuffed the note in the envelope, taped it shut and spun it over to Vida G.
"I expect the owl is still hangin' around?"
"Exchanging pleasantries with Mrs. BobKat last I checked."
"Well give this back to him and send him on his way."
"C'mon George let's go get some donuts."
And that is what they did.