Lula had worked herself into a full‑body rage.

She stomped inside, poison ivy brushing her ankles like it was trying to warn her, grabbed her flip phone, and dialed the sheriff’s office like she was reporting a hostage situation.

“Earl! Get over here! She’s GOT to go!”

And because this is Podunk — where family trees are more like family wreaths — Deputy Earl, Lula’s cousin, rolled up in his cruiser within minutes.

He stepped out, adjusted his belt, squinted at the Goblin Court, and delivered the line he’s been practicing since puberty:

“If Lula say you gotta go, well you bet git.”

The parolees spit beer.

The kittens froze mid‑tumble.

Mohawk’s ridge shot up like a warning flare.

The Tuxedo Lord blinked once — slow, regal, catastrophic.

The One‑Eyed General muttered his sacred word: “F’er.”

Spine didn’t even flinch.

She just pushed her sunglasses up her nose like she was adjusting the sun.

“Earl,” she said, “you sure you wanna take Lula’s side against a fully assembled cat government?”

Earl looked at the cats.

The cats looked at Earl.

The poison ivy curled around Lula’s ankle like it was choosing sides.

The mailbox gleamed like it was notarizing the stupidity.

Earl swallowed hard.

He backed up a step.

Then another.

Then he did what every Broadwell‑Bradwell‑Bardwell‑Breadwell man does when he’s wrong but refuses to admit it:

He made up a rule.

He pointed at Spine with the confidence of a man who once got kicked by a goat and blamed the fence.

“Alright now… I’m givin’ ya 24 hours.”

Spine tilted her head.

“Twenty‑four hours for what?”

Earl blinked. “To… uh… comply.”

“With what law?”

Earl blinked harder. “The… uh… Lula one.”

The parolees howled.

The poison ivy paused.

The One‑Eyed General muttered “F’er” again, just for emphasis.

Earl flinched like the word hit him physically.

He got back in his cruiser, muttering something about “procedure” and “cat intimidation,” and drove off like a man who suddenly remembered he left the stove on.

Lula stood there, furious, triumphant, and wrong — the Podunk trifecta.