Lexia's dining room is a bizarre and unsettling space, like something out of a fever dream or an alternate dimension. The walls are covered in garish yellow wallpaper, its repeating floral pattern seeming to shift and writhe under overly bright lights.

The room itself is sparsely furnished, with just a rickety wooden table and a few mismatched chairs to accommodate it and the basic appliances. The table's surface is scuffed and stained from countless meals. And sitting at the table, watching a cat clock on the wall is Dixie Hartwick.

Dixie Hartwick looks like Lexia Hartwick in every way. The only major difference is her lack of fluff around her neck, and she is frail and frazzled. She is wearing a thick turtleneck outfit and heavy pants with a tight belt.

Dixie's hands twitch and tremble on the dining room table as she stares at the cat clock. Her eyes and ears slide back and forth with the ticks and tocks of the clock. Claw marks are etched into the table beneath her fingers and next to her is a soggy bowl of cereal.

Beneath the clock is a picture of a male hate with gray fur, kind blue eyes, and combed dark hair, wearing a police uniform. Beneath it is a framed, folded flag and gold letters spelling “ARTEMIS HARTWICK.”

“Mom, are you ready?” calls Lexia from the living room.

“Always dear,” says Dixie. “Always dear. Always dear. Do you think this clock is a portal?”

Lexia enters the dining room, wearing simple pants and a tank top to show off her muscular build.

“You watch too many movies, Mom,” says Lexia.

“The clock in my room turned into a portal once. I saw a whole new different timeline. Artemis was there, you were there, I was there, everyone was there. It was wonderful,” says Dixie.

Lexia gently grabs Dixie’s arm and carefully guides her to her feet

“I'm sure it was, but we have to go now. Your popsicle building class is going to start soon,” says Lexia.

“And then I can build a portal with popsicle sticks!” says Dixie happily.

Lexia smiles patiently. “Sure you can.”

Lexia leads Dixie out of the dining room, taking her to the Burrow's garage. Inside is Lexia's worn down, four door vehicle. Lexia ensures Dixie is secured in the front passenger seat before she goes to the driver's side. Lexia turns the key in the ignition, and the engine rumbles and the radio crackles to life with heavy metal music blaring through the speakers.

Lexia and Dixie bob their heads to the music, the garage door opens to a decrepit landscape of battered buildings, and Lexia drives off.

A few minutes of driving through the streets of Bliss Town and jamming out to heavy metal pass by. Every so often they would stop at a streetlight and wait for the bulb to switch to green, but at one particular red light, a familiar (but now severely patched up) van pulls up next to them with muffled Mexican polka music thumping through its metal and glass shell.

****

Inside the patched up van, Rolland and Dacre are bobbing their heads to the polka music, with Rolland's fingers tapping his steering wheel. In the back, with Reel-Sight tins, locked boxes of money, and stolen goods, is Shae and Cyrus. Shae’s hair is now a blend of cherry red and dark blue, and he and Cyrus are tugging their large ears down and glaring ahead.

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As Dacre bobs his head, he notices Lexia out of the corner of his eye. He stops and stares at her.

****

Inside the armored car, Lexia is enjoying her music. Then she notices something out of the corner of her eye. She turns her head and sees Dacre staring at her. Lexia frowns and quickly draws a large pistol from a hidden compartment in her middle front seat. Despite this, Dacre still motions her to roll down the window, but she flips him off.

*****

Inside the van, Dacre scoffs in disbelief before tapping Rolland's arm.

“Hey, it's that Bazooka Bunny chick with her sister!” says Dacre.

“What?” Rolland turns off the music, much to the relief of Shae and Cyrus, and he leans over and sees Lexia and Dixie. “Holy shit, it is her and her sister.”

“Want to see if she'll give you another lap dance?” asks Shae with a teasing smile.

Rolland and the others look at him.

“What the hell are you talking about?” asks Rolland.

“The Bazooka Bunny pole danced for us and gave you a private lap dance,” says Shae, his smile faltering when their bemused gazes hold.

“Shae, if I got a lap dance from the Bazooka Bunny, I would remember,” says Rolland.

“Yeah, I'm sure we'd remember her pole dancing for us, too,” says Cyrus.

“How shit faced were you guys to not remember any of that?” says Shae.

“Shae, shut up! Dacre, get that patchy bimbo to roll down her window!” orders Rolland.

Dacre once again motions Lexia to roll down her window. “Hey, roll down your window!”

*****

Lexia turns off the heavy metal music and waves her pistol at them, unaware of the bus pulling up behind her.

“Piss off! I don't have time to deal with you people today!” yells Lexia.

Dixie leans forward, and smiles when she sees Dacre and Rolland staring at them.

“Are those friends of yours?” asks Dixie.

“No, Mom. Those are the bad guys I've been dealing with,” replies Lexia.

“Oh, really?” Dixie waves at them, her smile brighter. “Hi! My daughter's said so much about you!”

****

Rolland and Dacre stare at Dixie, unable to hear what the two females are saying. Shae and Cyrus have also climbed to the front and are looking through the window.

“They're mocking us with their smiles and waves,” says Dacre.

“Sadistic bitches,” grumbles Cyrus.

“She probably has super windows, mega metal armor, and rocket launchers hidden in her vehicle. Or some other messed up stuff. Like flamethrowers or a giant chainsaw or skull grenade launchers.”

“Like that guy that went nuts and turned his ice cream truck into a mobile war crime?” says Cyrus.

“Oh, I remember that guy. He used to work for us, remember?” says Rolland.

Shae keeps staring at Lexia, rubbing his chin in thought as he squints his eyes at her. Lexia meets his gaze with a smoldering glare, but the rest of the group has lost their focus.

“What was that guy’s name, anyway?” asks Cyrus.

“Steve,” says Rolland.

“Okay, yeah, I vaguely remember her pole dancing for us,” says Shae, bobbing his finger at Lexia. “Claribel would've been better, though.”

“Shae, enough about the pole dancing and stop being weird about Claribel,” says Rolland.

“Yeah, we’re talking about Steve, now,” says Cyrus.

“Oh, screw Steve. We got the Bazooka Bunny right here and none of you guys are interested in hearing how she’s a damn pole dancer!” starts Shae.

“Drop the pole dancing or you’re barred from One-O for the night!” says Rolland.

Before Shae can counter Rolland, a car honks behind them.

“The light's green! MooooooooOOooOoOovE-uh!” shouts an angry civilian, their voice muffled by the barrier of the van's shell.

Rolland presses down the gas and the van glides forward.

“Damn, some people are just impatient,” says Rolland.

****

Inside Lexia’s car, the two rabbits are unaware of the bus pulling up behind them, so when it honks its blaring horn, it makes the two jump in their seats, and Lexia slams on the gas, speeding forward.

*****

Inside the bus, Derrick, Jayson and Nermal are huddled on the front bench, doing math on Nermal's notepad while Mariana drives the bus with the enthusiasm of a corpse.

“She works thirty hours at the precinct,” says Nermal.

“She works at Taco King, probably twenty hours,” says Jayson.

“She's a waitress at the Not the Crystal Plate, and The Crystal Plate. Probably twenty hours each for those, too,” says Derrick.

“And now she's working a bus... Hey, Mariana, how long are your bus work weeks?” asks Nermal.

“Forty hours,” replies Mariana.

The colors drain from Nermal, Derrick, and Jayson

“I'm so confused right now,” says Jayson.