Publisher's Synopsis
The mob-scène migrated from all over the small country to the eastern-central shoreline, where Rosie had been last reported at in the MEMEZ. Roughly 675 pissed-off trust fund yuppies march in the streets. "You will not replace us!" they chant along with other varying cries of bratty gripes. The police ended up serving as an escort service to the lynch-mob, once the slightest hint of a counter-protest amongst the locals was detected. One of those weird-ass-cube-cars comes flying; slamming into the asphalt, and mowing down several dozen of the lynchers. A small stream of blood puddles in the street. Rosie the Baby Killer turns the corner and confronts the angry bastards. "Are you guys saying, 'Jews will not replace us'?" Rosie asks the men, hardly phased to the fact that she just killed so many, and that the rest haven't run away yet. "Yes!", an older gentleman in the back shouted. Rosie looked at them perplexed for a moment. "I` (um, oh) ... Ah, I'm not Jewish. Not even a little bit.", Rosie said with a slightly over emphasized Latina accent. The Police captain in the front became noticeably frustrated with the miscommunication. "YOU! We're saying YOU will not replace us! I'm not saying Jews will replace us either, but it's YOU specifically. You will not replace us!" the cop yells. "I was saying Jews!" the old man in the back reiterated. "But what the fuck does that even mean?" Rosie asks. People rarely wait for an explanation these days. They certainly weren't ready to offer one up.
