Warning: This report has only been posted due to overwhelming interest. This story contains shocking details about Paul Joncich and Jennifer Whitney and should only be viewed by those with enough stomach for the Truth.
It was late, so late that the pair in the beat down pick-up could see a false dawn emerging from the horizon. The man’s arm, tattooed and riddled with scar tissue from years of shooting smack, dangled loosely out the window, occasionally thumb-flicking his Marlboro. One of his front teeth had broken in half and his clothes smelled of fast food grease and body sweat.
The woman, wide-awake from a long night of performing unmentionable acts and shooting speedballs, kept her eyes on the front door of the bank, waiting, waiting.
It had been a hard year for the pair, first being ground down by the big city media machine, then bouncing from town to town, one night Clovis, the next Bakersfield, a three day opium jag in Ojai on some old lady’s couch. They had woken up from their fogged nap to find the old lady had died in her sleep. They took the $13 she had in her purse and moved on. Never knowing where the next day would take you had its demons, the whores, the pimps, the junkies, the dreams that never left, dreams of bright lights and green screens, late night adulation and drunken sex at high class watering holes.
“There he is,” said the woman, her voice hoarse from the crack. She was already sliding out of the truck as she said it, silent and cat like.
The man was much slower, but moved with purpose. They crossed the street, bloodshot eyes darting in every direction, looking for any trap, any spook sign to warn them off. The street was empty except for the man, the woman, and the small skinny man in a suit, silently whistling through his teeth as he looked through a fist sized key ring for the right key to the bank’s front door. As he found the key and opened the door, he heard a noise behind him and turned. He didn’t see the cheap pistol in the man’s hand or the ugly little knife in the woman’s. He only saw their faces and smiled in recognition.
“Hey,” the little man said, “You’re Paul Joncich and Jennifer Whitney!”
“That’s right,” said Paul, “and you’re going to give us your money or we will fucking kill you.”
KOVR 13 personalities Paul & Jen are currently wanted by the authorities. If you see them, please report it to the CHP. Please do not approach as they are both considered armed and dangerous.
The Sac Rag 
Oh dear. Our Google friends are going to really have a time with this.
In fact, this could warrant the Sac Rag’s first cease and desist letter.
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