Ever since her defeat of the duck, Chrisy’s life has been less than normal. When the duck’s mother heard of the battle, in which her son lost his life, she killed herself. She drowned herself in the very pond that she had raised many a duck in. The death of the duck and his mother did not sit well with the animal community. Chrisy has been on the run. Everywhere she goes, she is no longer safe. She skips from identity to identity, hoping that she won’t be noticed, but the animals know her. They know her look and smell, and in some cases, they even know her taste.

Chrisy fights when she has to fight and runs when she has to run. She always escapes, though. Sometimes she only escapes within an inch of her life. When the animals realized what a formidable foe Chrisy was, they decided to hit her where it hurts. No, not the crotch. Girls don’t have anything down there. The animals attacked her friends and family. An elephant stampede had brought down the house where she was raised, but since it was in Gowanda, no one seemed to care. An ostrich blindsided her best friend, Jill, effectively causing their band to break-up. The worst scar, however, was the death of her manager. His death was bloody and brutal, but noble nonetheless. He died at the hoofs of the Yak.

It was a rainy night in Detroit. The animals had discovered her latest identity, and Chrisy was once again on the run. Her body was sore. The Yak had broken her arms moments before she decided to bolt. Blood oozed out of her many scars, and her clothes had been torn beyond repair. She ran through the streets; her only comfort was the rain cleaning her wounds. The Yak was determined. He pursued her. Chrisy made a wrong turn and ended up in a dark alley. The only light was a flickering streetlight toward the end. Chrisy looked at herself and realized she was about to die. She leaned against the back wall and awaited her fate.

The Yak gave her a look meant to kill. They both knew that the Yak was about to charge. Chrisy spit out the blood that filled her mouth and said, “Do your worst. It’s not going to bring that damn duck back to life. My only regret is that I didn’t get to fry up the mother as well.”

This comment enraged the Yak. He charged. Just before the deadly blow hit her, a miracle happened. A sad, remorseful miracle. Her manager, the one who trained her to defeat the duck, swung down from the fire escape and landed in the Yak’s path. You could tell he was ready for a fight. He was wearing his battle garb—ripped jeans and a t-shirt from a KISS tour in ’78. He took the hit that was meant for Chrisy. One of his lungs collapsed on contact, but he would not relent. He wiped his brow, spit in the Yak’s eye, and stated, “Your mother listens to emo.” This infuriated the Yak even further, who charged once again, throwing the manager into the back wall.

As the Yak continued to massacre her beloved manager, Chrisy made a break for it. She felt awful about leaving him there to die, but she knew he’d rather sacrifice himself than see her harmed. At least, she kept telling herself this.

Eventually, Chrisy made her way back to Buffalo. This seemed like a dangerous move, especially considering her arm hadn’t fully healed, but Chrisy was confident that changing her hairstyle would be a good enough disguise to fool the animals. She was right. After all, animals are stupid.

She walked into Club Meltdown to find someone to become her new manager. “Who here is highly trained in the art of yak fighting?” she boldly asked upon entering.

Everyone there couldn’t believe their ears. Gary, manager of Club Meltdown, said, “You can’t seriously be thinking about fighting the Yak. Why, that’d be suicide.”

Chrisy’s sole reply was, “Hey, now that I have my afro back, I think I can take him.”

Rockstar Alex was the only man willing to step forward. He said, “I’m willing to train ya.”

“Really?” asked Chrisy, just to double check and make sure she heard right.

“Yeah. I’m bored, and Chesterfield still can’t find a bassist, so I figure why not?” And thus, a new manager contract was written up, and a new bond was forged. But Rockstar Alex had some sinister ulterior motives. He had known something that Chrisy had not. Yaks had a high risk of contracting potentially fatal sexually transmitted infections, and the Yak was currently holed up in a hospital, connected to a respirator. Needless to say, there was no training for a big showdown. Instead, Chrisy was sold into slavery.