The fever has reached epic proportions in Kenya with President Ralph Lyon and Vice President Shane Simba pushing for further economic progress among the animal population.  With this ring in his ears, Oscar Scar, grocery wholesale entrepreneur and husband of realty owner, Jerrilyn Jackal Scar, decided to try and boot up some ambition in the Scar pride.  He dragged his reluctant father with him.  Old Scar is living with Jerrilyn and Oscar in their elaborate home on Lyon Avenue. 

            When they arrived at the Scar pride territory, as was common, the leading pride male lions were lying under a tree asleep.

“They’re taking their nap, Boy,” protested Old Scar to his son as the car approached them.

“Dad, their naps last all day.  They’ve got to get off their asses and do something meaningful.”

Oscar pulled up and stopped the engine.  Getting out, he greeted his uncles.  They raised their heads, one scratching a tick bite behind his ear and another, licking his testicles.  Old Scar reluctantly left the car, not too keen for his brothers to see his dandified attire at close range.

“Good afternoon, Uncles,” greeted Oscar, tipping his trendy New York Yankee’s baseball cap. 

“What you got on there, Scar?” asked one brother. 

“It’s a coat,” mumbled the old lion who was a major character actor at Baboon-Simba Studios. 

“Dad’s got on a yachting jacket.  Sharp, isn’t it?  You could have one too if you’d get some sort of enterprise going,” remarked Oscar. 

“What’s that?” piped an uncle who had just risen to his feet, feeling very peeved at the interruption of his snooze. 

“Do you know, Uncle Chuck, that the Simba pride that consisted of the trashiest lions in the Mara are now among the wealthiest animals in Kenya?” asked Oscar, hoping to stir some competitive vibrations among the lackluster group. “President Lyon wants to see all the prides make that kind of progress.”

“Shit, boy, what’s Ralph want us to do next?  He outlawed hunting so now the lionesses have to go to your market to get our food.  We’re getting food stamps or we couldn’t get by no way.  Now he wants us to work?   Ain’t no lion never worked, especially not no male,” snarled one. 

“Well that’s going to all change, Uncle Buck.  I’m going to go through the pride and find some of the young males who have gone to school.  I’m making good money at my wholesale grocery business.  I’m going to send two of the best to university.”

“We don’t give a shit about the Simbas, Oscar, long as they don’t come around on their motorcycles trying to screw our lionesses,” said Uncle Luther, attacking an itch on the back of his leg. 

“They no longer ride motorcycles, Uncle Luther, they’re all in big government positions and own hotels and the like,” apprised Oscar. 

“Well, shit, I thought I ain’t seen ‘em around here lately.”

Oscar visits his pride and uncles.....

Oscar spent his time interviewing the lionesses as to which were their brightest cubs.  One lioness spoke up and said she had a daughter who was as bright ‘as a green mamba on a hyena’s rump’.  Oscar chose two males who had gotten good grades in the compulsory school situation in Kenya now.   When he told Jerrilyn of the young lioness, his wife agreed to fund her through the lucrative Jackal Realty. 

            On the way back to the house on Lyon Avenue, Old Scar grumbled that his pride wanted to live the old way.

“Dad, you sure have taken to city life in our house.  I’m sure if your brothers and the lionesses got used to it, they would too.”

            The issue was being discussed so frequently regarding Arlon Lyon and his future law degree, Betty decided to discuss it with her husband. 

“Shane, do you really think that Arlon has the aptitude to study law and make a success of it?  All he seems to like is soccer.  He’s not a great scholar. His grades are sometimes appalling.”

They were in their room before a fading fire that had emptied the chill from the rainy night.  He lit a cigarette.

“Sure he has, Betty.  He’s a Lyon and they’re extremely smart.  Look at Ralph and especially Lewis.”

“Arlon is a clone of Ashley, Shane.  I never told you this before.”

“Damn, Betty, this French procedure that you animals use when you are of mixed species is the most Machiavellian thing in the world.  Brrrrr!!!! So your point is that Ashley Lyon’s clone may not be bright enough?”

“I’m afraid so, at least not to be a lawyer, Shane.”

“Betty, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to be a lawyer.  Just the ability to study one’s ass off is all it really requires.  And as for Ashley, I was friends with him even before Cathy died and he’s very intelligent.  We used to talk about all sorts of issues.  He’s got a steel trap mind where business is concerned.  I think, because of Ashley’s thrill-seeking character some think he’s an airhead, but he’s damn well not.  Hell, you should know that, Betty, you were married to him.”

“He was in real estate when I was married to him.”

“Yes, and he’s probably the reason that Jerrilyn Jackal’s realty firm made such a return.  Jerrilyn is just a high school graduate.  It was probably the result of Ashley’s degree from the London School of Economics that moved Jackal Realty in to the big time profit sphere.”

“Or was it the Lyon name, Shane?”

“Names just go so far if the business is not sound.  I think it was Ashley’s business acumen that did the trick.  Luke Leoparde is clever but I think Ashley is the brains behind the safari club success.”

            Later, after the fire was a single ember and they lay with the lights off in the comfort of their bed, Shane had obviously been thinking.  He tapped Betty lightly on her hand that was across his chest. 

“Fifi, are you asleep?”

“Almost there, Darling, why?”

“Are Josh and Jason clones of Sam?”

“No, Sam wouldn’t go for that at all.  He demanded that it be his sperm mixed with Simba female DNA.”

“Which females’ DNA did you use?  There are not that many daughters in the Simba pride, mostly males.”

“I really don’t know.  It was left up to Sam.”

“So much for incest, maybe it’s better than cloning.  Who the hell knows,” he laughed.

“I suppose it’s just as well I had a hysterectomy.  I can tell you are no fan of the French Procedure,” she giggled.

“Absolutely not! There’s no way I would have gone for that. It’s too Jurassic Park for my tastes.”

            Roy Lee Simba took his new special edition Harley Davidson motorcycle from his garage.  It was the first one he had owned in years. He had just ordered it, through Def Leopard, from America.  He did a quick polish and revved up the powerful engine.  He smiled and rode from his Leoparde Drive estate toward the Watering Hole condos.  When he pulled into the parking area under Janice Jaguar Gorilla’s home he juiced the engine causing it to backfire.  She heard the sound and came running to the balcony to see who was there although she knew instinctively. 

“Jan, come down and ride with me like old times, remember?” he roared to his ex-wife and current lover. 

“Oh, Roy Lee, you bought a new bike.  I thought I’d never see that Roy Lee Simba again. I’ll be right down, dear.”

            She came rushing out her front door, hopped on the back of his bike and put her arms around his waist.  

“You haven’t lost your knack?” she laughed.         

“No, Jan, it’s as if I was never off one.”

With those words, he took off and drove toward the savanna with Janice, who had ridden many times with him in the beginning of their marriage before the struggle for superstardom had ended his cycling activities and caused their divorce. 

            Steven Simba had been giving some thought to the current situation.  He had seen the happiness of Sloane and his new bride, Caitlin, having dined with them at her apartment.  He wondered if he might not like a female who was morally sound instead of the freewheeling chicks he had been banging so far.  He was hiking on the savanna, carrying a back pack of beer and crackers.  He sat under a tree and popped a brew, enjoying the sunny day.  He knew his brother Sidney was totally disinterested in a female who didn’t drop her panties at the first hint of want in his eyes.  He leaned his head against the acacia tree and remembered that he had a client who was in litigation with a client of Lyon & Associates.  He rested a few more minutes, drank another beer and then rose to go home and study the case. 

“Roy, are you riding a motorcycle again?  That is so tacky and childish,” she growled. 

“To each his own, Chloe, I have the money and leisure and will do with it what I please with it.  You love to shop for fripperies, I have my motorcycle.”

“You’re getting mighty big for your britches these days, Roy Lee.  What’s going on with you?”

He stood up and towered over her. 

“Chloe, I have always been big for my britches one way or another.  If you don’t like it, you can go elsewhere. I am what I am and made you what you are – a star.”

“Well, okay then,” she said backing away and then as is her way and with her attention deficit, she changed tact. “How do I look?  I’ve been at Beau Visage all day.”

“Always marvelous, Chloe girl,” he said, failing to suppress a yawn.  

Since he had reconnected with his beloved Janice, he treated Chloe like one of his younger children, which in effect is the way she acted. 

            The one rough stretch was when she had placed an overseas call to her parents in Montana and disclosed the fact that she had wed a lion.  Both mother and father had fallen silent across the many miles of cable.  It had taken Bernard Cougar to remind his brother of the happiness he had found in marrying an African leopard. 

“But a lion, Berns?  They are ravenous creatures.  My daughter will be devoured,” his brother had moaned. 

“You’ve met my son-in-laws who are lions. You enjoyed them both.  Sloane is Roy Lee’s half brother,” encouraged Bernard. 

“I’ll take your word for it, Berns.  We do adore Sylvia.  She has certainly been a wonderful wife to you.”

“Why don’t you come to Kenya?  I’m retired now. Syl and I have plenty of room for you to stay with us.  How about it, Carl?”

“That’s a good idea, Berns, can we play some golf?”

“Everyday at the sporting club.  We can also fish.  Syl gave me a marvelous boat last Christmas.”

“I’ll ask the missus and get back to you, Berns.”

            Steven Simba sat next to Cameron Caracal in the law offices of Lyon & Associates.  He had gone there representing a client whose adversary was Cameron’s client.  They sat at the lengthy conference table in the newly acquired offices.  Cameron was explaining the demands her client was making against his antagonist.  It was a business deal gone awry between two animals in the Mara.  There were large punitive damages to be considered in litigation.  The stakes were high.  Steven wanted to keep it out of court since he had realized, early on, that his client seemed to be, at least on paper, the loser.  He was distracted by Cameron’s beauty.  He had carnal knowledge of her sister, Carey, but Cameron seemed aloof and even more beautiful.  Steven couldn’t keep his eyes off her beautiful face and shapely silk clad legs with the sling heel pumps.  Cameron noticed his noticing her and took exception. 

“Mr. Simba, I wish you would concentrate on the matter at hand instead of your eyes wandering from one body part to another on my being.”

“I can’t help but notice your good looks, Miss Caracal.  I don’t think that’s so bad, is it?”

“We are two attorneys trying to work a deal for our clients.  This is not the venue for carnality, Counselor.”

“Oooh, I stand corrected, Miss Caracal.  You seem outfitted with the proper acid levels. I suppose there’s no getting you to dine with me at OKAPI’S some evening, is there?”

“No, indeed, Mr. Simba.  Your reputation is atrocious.  Why don’t you just settle for enjoying my sister and we can make some headway for our clients,” she snapped, lighting a cigarette so violently that sparks flew from her lighter. 

When the meeting had ended, they had not made progress which would throw the matter in court.  Steven had two objectives.  He wanted to win the case and Cameron Caracal.