Her name was America. America Jones. And she was a hunter. Her file said sun, but Solia knew in her heart what division the hunter really was in. The TRUE division. The freedom division. The hunter who would peruse life, liberty and freedom for all. Because that was the American way! Yes, of course, this was just fact. Someone with the name America had to be the most free spirit, the most libertarian, and so full of life. Or something. Maybe she banged people in life. Who was Solia to judge? Life had hot guys. She banged a life guy once. It was great. No regrets.
Just like America, who probably regret nothing except maybe slavery but really that was taking it a bit too much too far down possible social justice warriors road.

Dangerous roads to travel. Solia would avoid them.
Instead she would focus on this America. The NEW America. The BETTER America. The Harder, Faster, Stronger America. The America that gave Daft Punk 5 Grammys because ******** yeah Getting Lucky, (who she really should visit and ask if he got a cool tattoo over his O scar yet because she was going to and then they could maybe be tattoo buddies it would be great).

Wait no. Refocus. America the beautiful. America the great. With spacious skies and amber waves of grain and also corn and fields of cows and too many action movies with cool guys who didn't look at explosions. Yes. America didn't look at explosions to be sure.

Sitting at her desk Solia kept dwelling on this America. One who maybe Maebe liked and ended up with. She still needed to write that sequel, but until then she needed to get some back story. Pump it up. Take the drama to 11. Okay. She could do this. The runic computer flashing to life, Solia began to clatter away on the keys.

Quote:
Her name was AMERICA JONES, the brave, fearless, and courageous. She loved as passionately as the fathers of her great homeland loved freedom, apple pies, BBQs, and the first second and all the other amendments. The constitution was tattooed on her arms so she'd never forget, just like how on that fateful day, one April 22nd, she ran into maybe a young lady who would turn hr world upside down yet never leave her with anything to frown about. Just a small town girl, born into a lonely world, America Jones took life by the horns, broke it's spirit on a mountain, (Rushmore to be exact), and rode life into the sunset while never looking back to those she had to leave behind.

She lived life in the fast lane, on the wild side, kicking up a storm wherever she went, rocking out with the most metal of bands, a smoother than any jazz, America could slide into anyone's life then like a hurricane tear it up and leave nothing behind. But that was America. Strong, resilient. When those sorts of things happened to her she didn't need help or aid, she just pulled up her bootstraps and climbed. If others were left behind, caught in her hurricane? Well, they should have evacuated. She was America, she'd take the world by storm.
And she did.


Solia looked at what she'd written thus far and was impressed. So far, so good. Perhaps her best yet since being on the island. Only... still not up to level eleven. This was maybe an eight. A nine if she pushed it. It was time for the big guns. Literally.

Quote:
America would shoot for the stars. Never missing her target, the woman carried a ak-47 in her heart, but a shotgun in her hand. On the wings of an eagle, a bald one at that, she crossed the country, wearing the symbol of her people with pride. A flag around her neck, the mark of a super hero, the wondrous woman that was America. Lady Liberty was green with envy. Miss Jones would pop a top and down a cold one in the south while up north brave the harsh rugged wilderness, fighting real bears in the mountains with her bare hands. America was a woman so brave, so fearless, that enemies would create new weapons, just out of sheer awe at her massive guns, (those where her sweet rippling muscles in case that wasn't obvious).

Her heart would go on, as she sailed the world, (in under 8 days), her ship never went down once. Though she totally went to town in port with only the most saltiest of sailors. But even they never held a lick of salt to America's pure badassery.
If a lion was king of the jungle then America was king of everything the sun touched. Which included the moon, mars, mercury, and just about every planet and maybe a few stars too.

But it all came to a halt one day. When maybe she realized, she'd found love. When some b***h looked her dead in the eye and said.
'Call me Maebe'.