The Progidy
Copyright© 2019 by Charlie for now
Chapter 4: (final) - The Progidy - Charlie, For Now
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 4: (final) - The Progidy - Charlie, For Now - A girl watches, it's all she can do, as the man she loves happiness crumbles, and then she catches him before he falls. Snatching happiness from the jaws of despair, it's all uphill from there. Her father, mother, and girlfriend (trans) help to maintain an otherwise normal man's creativity and sanity.
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft Fa/ft Mult Teenagers Lesbian TransGender Polygamy/Polyamory Leg Fetish Violence
Georgina’s arm healed nicely, with a diagonal, what she called a beautiful battle scar, on her forearm. She had a small red heart and the date of the incident tattooed in very clear, yet fairly small letters right next to and along part of its length. The pride she showed when anyone asked her what it was lit up rooms all over the place. She loved telling the story of how her Mistress and bestie were still alive because of the coincidence of her reaction in the face of probable loss of the love of her life, and her Mistress’s husband killing a couple of other bad guys and distracting the attackers. She and her loves weren’t supposed to live, but they did. She never really took credit for the saving of the lives of her family, but instead, credited the distraction itself and her going nuts when the guy grabbed the most important person in her life. It was cute, if not a little distracting itself, sometimes. We loved her without measure, though, and nothing she was capable of saying or doing would ever change that.
After the incident and the injury, the main concern was the use of the arm, and whether or not it was going to be a one hundred percent recovery. It was, thankfully, and maybe more so, since she got quite a bit of physical therapy, and rarely did much of any physical activity before the incident. She was in fact a girly girl. That changed. She started working out in our gym a bit, and even talked Janet into taking classes in self-defense and martial arts with her.
Yvonne joked about closing the barn door after the horses got out, but Georgina countered in an intelligent, forthright, meaningful, and pretty damned funny way. “I understand that, lover, but there’s always the chance that the horse’s asses, or their friend’s and their horse’s asses, may stop by. Then I’ll beat them to death with the door.” It was funny if you were there to see the way she said it. She’s pretty dainty to be making physical threats, but she was still riding the ‘ten-foot-tall and bulletproof’ wave when she said it.
For me, the selfish old man with four women taking care of HIM, more so than he was taking care of THEM, it was a windfall. The dainty little vixen turned into a wildcat in bed, much more outgoing, and just plain fun to be around. The training and exercise brought out a level of self-confidence that had been hiding since she was a child, and rarely seen by anyone but our small family. Now, it was open to the public!
A good example of that was shown when the poor girl found out some irritating news from a slip of the tongue her hopefully future step-mother made on one of our trips to their place in Ithaca. The subject of her mother giving her father a hard time over the divorce settlement reared its ugly head, so Georgina jumped right in. She point-blank asked Trixie if the settlement was fair to her father.
“No, hon, not really. He’s giving her everything she wants, basically, just to leave him alone, let him move on, and let you live your life the way you want. I hate it that he was treated that way, and every bit as much so that you were treated that way, and now she’s just being mean. I see it that way, anyway, but I’m a bit prejudiced. I love your father, Georgie girl, and every one of the qualities she hated in him, I adore. Your father is an amazing and loving man. He’s doing well up here with another company, and to be honest, hon, we’ll never need for anything. Ever. I did something earlier this year that kind of rocked the miniature world, and after he helped me with the university and the patents and the company that wants them and all, well, we won’t go hungry in this millennium. Nor will our progeny. The next millennium, maybe, but that will be the problem of our grandchildren to the fourteenth power or something, so, who knows. Maybe they’ll be able to feed themselves by then.” They both laughed.
“Janet, what’s the fourteenth root of a millennium?” Georgina asked, still giggling.
“Oh, my God, you med students take everything so freaking seriously! It wasn’t an advanced math problem, G, but a wealthy woman bragging that she doesn’t have to balance her checkbook anymore. I LOVE when that happens!” They all started laughing again, and hugging, congratulating Trixie, much to William’s and my chagrin.
When they settled, she held Trixie’s hands in hers and told her, “Trixie, I’ll talk to my mother. I don’t know what I can do. Maybe I’ll threaten her with a child endangerment or abandonment case if she doesn’t leave Daddy alone and sign the papers, but I’ll do something. I can ask Charlie and his people to make her life hell if she wants to play that game.” She turned to me. “Charlie? What do you think? I can make it look all legal like, even if there isn’t a chance in hell I’d win, but she won’t know that without spending money. Will you help me?”
I said the only thing I could after meeting William and Trixie, and knowing my Georgina wanted to help them. “In a heartbeat. I’ll bet our lawyers know some other lawyers who know someone. Yeah, doll, we’ll help. No problem.”
I wound up spending an even five grand on an ambulance chaser acquaintance of Yvonne’s from her earlier days in law school. She made very clear he was NOT a friend, but an acquaintance. There IS a difference, she said. I don’t think she likes that guy.
We were notified, as we requested, thirty minutes after the papers were served on Nancy. That would give her a bit of time to look over them and become familiar with them, at least. Georgina called her. We only heard one end of the conversation.
“It’s me, Georgina. (Pause.) Your daughter. (Pause.) So, you got them. Good. (Pause.) I’ll make you a deal. Sign the papers Daddy sent you and move on. He has already moved on, as have I, and you need to do the same. And, stop trying to take everything he holds dear. If you don’t, you are looking at your future in those papers you were just served. I’m not happy about the way you treated me as a child, or the way you are treating Daddy, but I am willing to forgive it if you will just let it all go. (Pause.) No, Mother, I’m not kidding at all. My allowance is more than you make, Mother. I kid you not. If I ask my Mistress and my benefactor for a hundred grand right now, to take you down in court, they would only ask if I needed it in cash, check, or gold. Doubt that and it will be to your demise. I’m not kidding. My father loved me when you threw me away. I will not allow you to hurt him anymore. Sign the papers or deal with the consequences. YOU. WILL. NOT. WIN. You have 24 hours to decide, and you have my number. Make your decision. Now.” Click.
There was neither a dry eye nor a closed mouth in the room. She shocked all of us. Georgina, the quiet, loving, little urchin, had just taken control of the beast that was her mother. She was on top of the world and stayed that way for months after the entire debacle unwound.
Nancy backed down. She called back the next day, told her daughter she had signed the papers and they were on the way back to William’s lawyers. She asked if they could meet, soon, before any court action was started against her.
“Charlie? Janet? Mother wants to meet with me. Will you... ?” I interrupted her.
“Yes. Ask her to meet you at a hotel outside the closest airport to her that is NOT LAX. Saturday night at seven o’clock. Make sure they have a restaurant in the hotel.”
“Did you hear that, Mother? (Pause.) Yes, make sure it has an in house or on the premise restaurant. Seven o’clock reservation for five plus your party. We’ll not be renting a car and all that, just a short hop to talk and then on our way. (Pause.) Just you and John? John who? (Pause.) Thanks. (Pause.) He did? Please tell him I’m looking forward to meeting him, then. (Pause.) I’m not being a smartass, Mother. If someone has made you see the other side of the coin, I want to meet him. He’s obviously better at it than Daddy and I were. In any case, I have to go. We’ll see you Saturday. I love you. (Pause.) Of course, I do. I always have. I just don’t always like you. You’re still my mother. (Pause.) Thank you. We’ll talk about it then. Bye.” Click.
Janet took Georgina aside after the discussion, hugging her, noting that after the discussion between her and her mother, she was starting to realize the depth of what she had done. Tears started. I watched as Janet calmed her, and talked her down to street level, making sure she was aware of how brave and resilient we thought she was ... How proud we were of her.
We were home, a few days later, when we got the callback. It was John Morgan. Nancy Tolbert’s significant other. He spoke to Georgina for a few minutes, then with a smile, she handed her phone to me.
“Mr. Taylor...” I interrupted him. I had a feeling our relationship was not going to be so adversarial. I’m not sure what gave me that opinion, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t the threat of the law suits. I felt it was more of a ‘mother-daughter’ thing, and that one John Morgan had said something to Nancy that she actually heard.
“Mr. Morgan. John? Just call me Charlie. OK? Just Charlie, for now. I’m getting the feeling that we’re not going to be at odds after this weekend, so let’s give this a shot.”
“OK, Charlie. I have no problem with that. I’m John. Mr. Morgan was my father, as they say. In any case, I have the information for you. We’d like you to come in using the John Wayne and stay at the Renaissance in Newport Beach. We have dinner reservations there for seven, as you requested, and we’re both looking forward to it.”
“Thanks, John. On behalf of my gaggle, we are, too. If you’re happy with Nancy, this is going to work out well for everyone. Please, consider the confrontation between Nancy and her daughter as just that, and something we can work through. She is trying to protect her father...” This time I was interrupted.
“Say no more. I’m on the side of fairness with all of this. I understand full well what is happening, what happened, and I’m working on Nancy’s ‘inclusive side’, if you will. My niece is similarly afflicted and has been since she was just a small child. We’ve known forever. Nancy just found that out in the last few weeks, when she clued me in on her issues with Georgina. She knows we’re talking. She’s just trying to prepare herself in her own way. Between you and me, Charlie, if she can’t see eye to eye with her daughter, her chances with me, as much in love as I am with her, and as long as we’ve been seeing each other, are slim. Very slim. One thing in her favor is that she’s dealing pretty well with knowing my niece and just realizing recently that Jamie is dysphoric and a trans girl. That set Nancy back on her heels. She knows how close Jamie and I are, and it’s affecting her. I think it may be opening her eyes to her daughter’s situation.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Saturday night, John. See you then. Thank you. You sound stand-up.”
“We’ll see, Charlie. I’m trying. G’day.” Click.
We signed off and I turned to my ladies. “I see a positive outcome, believe it or not.”
Georgina went to bed smiling after we talked about the call, and John, and the possibility of a new beginning with her mother. She’d been happy for a long time, unless that subject came up, but now? She was optimistic based on what I told her and how the call went.
Then, on Saturday morning, she was antsy. Afraid, apprehensive, and full of mistrust, until we landed. Janet sat her in the first seat by the stairs and told her flat out, “Baby cakes, you fixed this once, albeit with the threat of court action, but you have the upper hand here. You are the child, and yes, she is the mother, the adult, but you have the upper hand and need to keep it. Don’t be afraid, love. Don’t. She is your mother, and you love her, but now is the time to see if she can love you back, for who you are and who you have become.”
“Thanks, Janet. I love you so much. It’s not hard to see why. Let’s go. I’ll be fine. I think.” They shared a smile and a hug, and off we went to the hotel.
The girls all showered and changed, right in front of me. Flirting and tempting me at every turn, as is their modus operandi. That’s Latin for ‘the way they tease their guy’. They enjoyed it. I enjoyed it. I think it helped keep love and interest alive, as if we needed it. Lisa and Yvonne wanted to be there, mostly to support Georgina, now considered a wife, more so than a pet or slave, which was a fun thing, but neither realistic nor practical. Way too much love and respect were flowing in both directions for much of the thrall thing to stay in play, at least with the legal team. She still sat at Janet’s knees, once in a while, just to make sure Janet kept their relationship at the level it needed to be.
We walked into the restaurant at six-fifty-nine, making sure we were completely within the bounds of our agreement. We needn’t have been so worried.
Nancy stood and approached her daughter. Georgina was wearing diamonds above the cleavage of a blue silk gown, not formal, yet impressive, with her impeccable stocking covered legs and blue kidskin four-inch sandals. She was model quality impressive. Her mother was in awe. They hugged.
“Georgie, I’m sorry. Can we sit, and talk? Please?” Georgina nodded. “Georgie, you are a beautiful girl, and I need to clear some things up. I love you. I always have. I am weak, and I am vain. I took your transition as a slap to the face, as a degradation of myself, when in fact, it had absolutely nothing to do with me, and everything to do with you. For that, I apologize. I have no more excuses, no more apologies, no more anything. Nothing fits and nothing matters. I only have this: I love my daughter and want her to love me.”
They fell together in a hug and I think, in front of John, Janet, Lisa, Yvonne, and myself, they healed years of bad feelings.
“I love you, Mom. Are we OK?”
“Yes, dear, we’re OK. You can continue to process the court cases if you like. I owe you. Anything I can do to make up for how I treated you, I will.”
“No. Let Daddy go, and the only thing we’ll do together is heal and spend some time. I don’t get out to California often unless we’re refueling for Hawaii.”
“What? I thought that was an empty threat from a loving little girl worried about her parents.”
“No, Mother. Not at all. I don’t want to discuss it further, but it was NOT an empty threat. I’m glad though, that you took it as one and decided to love me for who I am, not what I am, and now where I’ve been and who I have become.”
“Me, too, sweetie. Me, too.”
They got along during dinner and even held hands for a while. John, Lisa, and Yvonne talked about this, that, and the other thing, then got into a discussion about his niece, whom he loved dearly. It was enlightening for everyone at the table, even Georgina, and she’d been through it all. At eleven o’clock, after sitting and talking for four hours, we rose, mother and daughter saying ‘so long’ with a hug and the rest of us shaking hands. Janet approached Nancy. They had known each other for years, although Nancy never thought much of Janet because of her harboring the feminine aspects of Georgina’s life.
“Nancy, please know I appreciate this. She loves you. Now, she might even like you. I think. That would be so cool. That’s a windfall in anyone’s eyes. I really do appreciate your working on this, and your acceptance.”
“I’m sorry, Janet. I’m sorry for all of it. That’s all I have, except that I’ll do better in the future. John has shown me some truths. That’s all they are. That’s what they are called. Truths. Nothing more, nothing less. I’ll do better. Take care of my daughter, Janet. Please.”
Janet nodded and hugged her, John took Nancy’s hand, and we parted ways. They walked out, hand in hand, smiling, and we went upstairs to the room, smiling, each and every one of us. Our Georgina was happy that she and her mother could now talk. I mention that because, until recently, after all those revelations and the reconciliation, it was hard to get them to quit talking. Yak, Yak, Yak. Now, I miss that. A lot. Then, it was just amusing.
We flew home the next day, spending the afternoon in the back yard, just talking. It was really, really, relaxing. The interaction between Georgina and Nancy had made things much, much calmer, thankfully.
William called several days later. He asked for me, specifically.
“Charlie, I don’t know what happened and I don’t think I want to know what happened. I really don’t but thank you. To you, your family, your lawyers, your wife, your,” he chuckled, “your thrall, whom I love as if she were my own daughter,” another chuckle. “I heard from my lawyers, who heard from Nancy’s lawyers, that they have reconciled, and that makes me so, so happy. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Oh, and William, I think, this time, as agreed, dinner is on you guys? Pizza. And beer. Out. There are five of us. Sucks to be you. William, have a great week. Your daughter loves you.” Click.
I couldn’t resist. He has a very, very small funny bone, but when he tells his girlfriend about the conversation, she’ll crack up. I’m sure of that. She could afford to feed us.
The family grew, and trips to the west coast were more frequent. Now that Georgina was older and on her own, it wasn’t really a thing, but the ‘every other Christmas’ thing turned into us flying to Ithaca to pick up Dad and Step-mom and deliver them, and all of us, to Mom and Step-dad for Christmas. It rarely worked the other way, as we spent a bit of Christmas time at home, and the pair of lovers in New York were more than happy to get out of the snow to go to California for the holidays. Joyce and Jordan were having a field day, as well. All they had to do, when their daughter called and said she was taking her thrall to LA, or New York, was say they weren’t busy, and get free air fare, room and board, and time with their daughter. That meant party city. I’ve mentioned they were fun to be around.
Life without worrying about Ann and her stupid drunken antics was nice, but as I thought before when I mentioned it just months earlier, I should have knocked on wood. She dumped Bobby Chrysler and found herself a new dupe.
Waking up the monster was an accident of the most tumultuous kind, and Joyce, Janet, and Georgina did it in spades, eerily in the same grocery store as before when it was just Janet and Georgie. I need to tell those girls to shop at the other one across the intersection. Schnuck’s had just as good of a selection as Dierberg’s does, and no ANN!
As soon as Georgina heard the voice, the iPhone came out and started filming, recording, documenting the transaction between the ladies, my family, and the wicked witch of wherever she was living now.
“Janet, so nice to see you. Not pregnant? Seriously? I figured you had to marry that bastard. Oh, and by the way, I’m suing him for alimony, back alimony, and pain and suffering. My new boyfriend is a lawyer and said that prenup agreements aren’t worth the paper they are written on. He’s from California and knows these things. Joyce, you might want to tell your neighbor to expect the worst to happen, really soon. I’ll teach him to leave me, stupid jackass loser!”
Joyce’s response cracked me up when she replied, “Ann, number one, does your boyfriend know about Bobby, and number two, does he realize you are not in California? I’m going to go out on a limb here and tell you up front that the neighbor you speak of has two lawyers as very, very close friends, and as good as they are at their trade, they aren’t the ones you’ll be up against. He’ll bring the heat. Oh, boy. Lady, you are dumber than I thought you were. Ann, please leave us alone and go away. I’m afraid you’ve lost your grasp on reality.”
“Fuck you, Pointer. You’re just a shill for that bastard. He’s going to get his, and I’m going to get my house back. Before you know it, we’ll be neighbors again, bitch. Tell him that!”
“Ann, where did your drink your lunch? You are always like this when you drink, but when you sober up, you find yourself in jail, or so much worse off than you were before you...”
“Bite me on the ass, Janet, you little slut. Fucking home wrecker. Husband stealer. Cunt! Whore! Bitch!” Yes, at about that time, the store security that had been watching the altercation was replaced by the county cops. They handcuffed her, read her rights to her under the Miranda Act, and placed her under arrest for disturbing the peace, public intoxication (again), and public indecency for the use of profane language in a public setting during her outburst. Yeah, that’s a thing there.
As they carted her off, Georgina still filming the whole thing, turned the phone for a selfie with Joyce, Janet, herself, and the county’s finest, with my ex in chains, somewhat, walking her away. She giggled her best Georgie Girl giggle and said into the camera, smiling, “Charlie ain’t gonna believe this shit.”
It was interesting, almost entertaining, but as always, when someone threatens you with a lawyer, it won’t be fun. Even a dead in the water, nothing case, can be time consuming, distracting, and expensive. In this particular case, knowing what I know and knowing what she said to and about my wife, I didn’t care. I’d spend every dime I had to protect my wife’s name and her reputation.
We were served a couple of weeks later. Alienation of affection, for Janet, and adultery, abandonment, and grand theft on me. She claimed Janet took me away from her, and claimed that I cheated on her, left her with nothing, and took everything she had coming. In California, except for the adultery and the alienation of affection, that all meant something. California doesn’t recognize either of those offenses anymore, and if they did, Hollywood would be made up of actors under the age of eleven, and there wouldn’t be a member of the state senate still standing. Just an observation, don’t disparage me.
It took three weeks for my lawyers to discuss our case with two others, one under contract with me and another doing it for fun at Lisa’s request. The four of them pulled Ann and her California boyfriend, Cliff Stone (Really? Cliff? Stone? Really?), into court and tore them apart. The prenup was approved under Missouri statutes and would remain in effect. It had been enacted, paid as agreed to and directed, finalized, and documented. Case closed.
“Mr. Stone, another thing came up during this proceeding that you need to know about.” The judge looked him square in the eye. “Your license to practice in Missouri is expired. Has been for about three years. I also have a friend on the California Bar, Mr. Stone. You are under a suspension there for unethical practices and jury tampering. Go back to California and take Little Miss Troublemaker with you if you like. I’m tired of seeing her in here after she’s been drinking.”
I looked up, and yea, verily, it was the same judge that got her after the last Dierberg’s event. The one that led to her leaving Bobby Whatsit and finding greener pastures.
She stormed out. Without him. He was livid but knew he didn’t have a leg to stand on, pushed his papers together, placed them in his briefcase and closed it, purposely, then looked at me. A scowl is how I would characterize the look. Mean? Nasty? Yeah. Both.
I approached him and asked if we could somehow see this to an end.
“No, Mr. Taylor, I’m afraid not. You see, this isn’t coincidental. My given name is Clifford Abdiel Flowers and I’m Jacob Matthew Flowers’s little brother. I’m going to send you to hell. I found your ex-wife and her lover, paid him off and fucked the snot out of her, and I’ll do the same to your wife, your friends, your mother and your third-grade teacher if I find them. This is not over. Not by a long shot. You will see me again. Probably only once, as you’re dying.”
“Mr. Flowers, are you sure you want to do this?”
Cliff, Clifford Abdiel Flowers, Stone, laughed and walked out of the courtroom.
“Shit,” was the only thing I could come up with at the time. Janet didn’t catch the whole conversation. Georgina did. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Georgina hugged me and told me to relax. Everything would be fine. We were together and that was all that mattered. Such a positive outlook and such an innocent thought. That was my thinking at the time. I misunderestimated everyone.
At home, Georgina talked to the girls, made sure they knew what was said and what was coming. We knew not when, we knew not where, but Jake’s little brother was bound and determined to mess up more than just Ann and Bobby’s lives. Our little urchin made sure the others knew that it was only going to happen over her dead body, and if anyone had different thoughts, now was the time to vacate the premises.
Janet called her mom and dad over so we could discuss the situation with them. It was very possible that it would bleed over onto them like it did last time. It was completely inadvertent, yet it happened. Joyce and Jordan listened, understood, and said they’d keep their eyes open and stay in contact. There was not much else they could do, save hiring security, but we didn’t think that was necessary since the chance of him trying anything here at our homes was probably pretty slim.
Meantime, back at the ranch ... Georgina had been spending a bit of time over the summer with self-defense and martial arts classes, joining groups of second and third graders, as she was a beginner, taking beginner’s classes. Georgina snuck out of a few softball practices to attend those. Her other classes didn’t involve children. Firearms were the focus of the educational path. How and when to use them. She and Janet took those classes jointly, wanting to spend at least some time together. They didn’t look at it as just preparing for Flowers, though, knowing things happen, and being prepared might be the difference between being safe and not being safe. Different terms, much more docile sounding than ‘a matter of life or death’.
Softball was getting more and more exciting, as Janet’s team got better and better. Winning more games, drawing bigger crowds, and getting a bit more coverage in the school paper and such for their success. More parents were attending the games, both locally and out of town. Being elected captain gave Janet a bit more gumption to get her team going, pump them up, if you will, and drive them forward. Coach had found that if the captain was appointed, she had to appoint a senior, but if the team was to vote, class status didn’t come into play. Her batting average was just that, about average, but her spirit, drive, and defensive moves set the example and following her, the team took their division and were third at nationals. It was the best they had done in years. We hosted a party for the team and the parents at a downtown establishment, where, once again, the coach asked Janet for one more year and just after a toast to that was being made, another toast was given, then a vote, and she was elected captain of the team for the next season as well.
One thing about winning and staying busy and sports and travelling as a family, and all that, was it took the focus off of other matters. Surely sometimes that is for the best, but not always.
Cliff Stone, Clifford Abdiel Flowers, followed Janet and Georgina home from school one cold November night and tried to pull them over. Georgina noticed the California plates and immediately called me, then called the police on 911, letting them know what was happening. They told the girls to pull off the highway into Wentzville, since it was closest and they could stay on a fairly crowded street, then pull into the police department building there. If the guy wasn’t a local, he may not realize where he was until it was too late. It worked, and as a highway patrolman followed them into and along the long drive to the Wentzville Police Headquarters building, two police cruisers were waiting for them on their approach.
He was much smarter than his brother. Of course, not knowing what Jake did for a living, one could assume that since although suspended, Clifford was a member of the California Bar. When he was stopped and questioned, he mentioned to the police that he just wanted to let the occupant of the vehicle know their taillights weren’t working, but then when they hit a bump ‘back there’, they came back on again, “so all’s well that ends well. Right?”
The girls were explaining the history to the Highway Patrolman, luckily a Troop Sergeant, with a little more experience than your average officer. He put two and two together and told the girls to file an injunction or protection order against Flowers, now Stone. He also went and talked to the man, assisting the Wentzville police in determining that the gentleman had two Glock pistols in his car, perfectly legal in Missouri, but was sporting a suppressor, or silencer, on one of them and didn’t have his permit or stamp for that handy. Being from California, and not a Big Whig movie producer or anything, the cops used that to hold him over night, with permission from the BATF and the local St. Louis office of the FBI. They all knew that with his record, there was no permit, and it had been obtained and kept illegally. While not impossible to get in Missouri, quite easily actually, a permit for a suppressor in California was quite hard to come by for the average Joe.
We heard later it took Stone about a week to worm his way out of that one. He was able to contact a shady friend back on the west coast, who found a gun dealer that claimed it was just a loaner and was accidentally removed from the dealership. It was a bunch of malarkey, and everyone knew it, but not a capital offense, and not worth millions of Missouri dollars to prosecute. The firearms were both confiscated, along with the suppressor, pending proof of ownership in California, where they do that sort of thing. He was simultaneously handed an order of protection, a full and permanent restraining order, barring him from contacting, in any way, or willfully coming within 1000 feet of, any member of the Taylor family, and/or residents of, to include the Taylor home. Then he was asked to go home. He was considered persona non grata in the State of Missouri, and after admitting to a state judge he had no other legitimate reason to be in the area, departed for his home in Los Angeles.