does anyone C ar E

In a school not far from here,

Lived kids quite wise and kids with fear.

There was Emma, so sunny, with bright golden shoes,

And Malik—oh, Malik—he was always in the news.

The halls would whisper, “That boy is bad.”

But Emma, she wondered, “Why’s Malik so sad?”

He grumbled and shouted, he stomped down the hall,

But deep down, he hardly spoke much at all.

Ms. Rivera, their teacher, was clever and bright—

She said, “Words are like nails; they pound hard and tight.

If you’re hurting, be gentle. If you’re mad, talk to me.

It’s the nails we don’t see that hurt hearts deeply.”

“Each time you’re unkind, pound a nail in this board.

When you’re gentle or helpful, then pull out a cord.

At the end, look close—just what do you see?

Holes, dents, and scratches—where kindness should be.”

Emma thought of Malik, so angry, alone—

She sat down beside him, lowered her tone:

“I’ve seen the hard days. I’ve seen how you hide.

But sometimes the bravest just need friends by their side.”

Malik blinked in surprise, and he tried not to cry.

“At my house, it’s heavy. Sometimes, I ask why.

I lose my cool quick and I get in a fight,

But I’m tired of being the ‘bad guy’ at night.”

Emma said softly, “One kind word heals a ton.

When you’re hurt inside, hurting others seems ‘fun.’

But I think you’re more—so much more than the pain.

Let’s pull out some nails. Let’s wash off this stain.”

So Emma and Malik, with helpers and friends,

Pulled nails from their board. Began making amends.

With kindness, with laughter, with hearts open wide,

They patched up the holes that were hurting inside.

Now each time you’re angry or ready to shout,

Think of old Malik and the pain he let out.

Kindness is power—don’t let pain spread.

Change a life, save a heart, with kind words instead.

Be the one to notice, to listen, to care—

For the nails you don’t see hurt more than a tear.

If someone is hurting, reach out, hold on tight…

You’ll pull them from darkness, back into the light.

And think of dear Jesus, the cross and the pain,

The nails everyone saw, but some wounds were plain—

The ones that were hidden, that cut deeper still,

The nails you don’t see, the ones that can kill

The caring inside, leaving hearts cold and bare,

Draining hope from a soul till there’s nobody there.

For anger means feeling—being human, alive,

But not feeling at all? That’s the hardest to survive.

So remember the wounds that are hardest to spot—

Believe it or not, they matter a lot.

Words can hurt, but kindness can heal.

See the good in each other, and help friends reveal—

That everyone’s story has chapters of pain,

But with kindness, respect, and love,

We all rise again.

Think of it like Willy Wonka, in that chocolate ride,

Floating near the blades they mocked, though warnings they couldn’t hide.

Relieving pressure keeps you grounded, helps you cope and rise,

It lifts you up when you’re down or lets you escape the skies.

But when you’re stalled, feeling bloated, like you’re ready to burst,

And no one tries to lighten your load, it only makes it worse.

It’s hard to keep on moving, when the weight feels so strong—

Sometimes all it takes is one kind voice to help you carry on.

Just one person believing in you, when you’ve lost your way,

Can spark the light inside your heart and brighten up your day.

So be that friend who listens, who cares, who makes a stand—

Because kindness is the strongest nail remover in the land.

AFFIDAVIT OF FELICIA ANN HOOK HAGLER

State of California

County of [Your County]

I, Felicia Ann Hook Hagler, born October 8, 1985, California Driver’s License No. D7095781, Social Security No. 549-87-6943, being first duly sworn, declare under oath as follows:

1. PERSONAL STATEMENT OF IDENTITY

I am over the age of 18, competent to make this sworn statement, and make these statements based upon my own personal knowledge unless otherwise noted.

Despite any efforts to give, transfer, or fraudulently assign my identity to another person, my legal identity as Felicia Ann Hook Hagler remains mine. Those involved have deliberately destroyed my identity — including by burning down my home and faking my death with the assistance or cover of the Red Cross. These acts do not negate my lawful identity, rights, or protections.

2. FACTUAL ACCOUNT

A. Stalking and Threats

I am being persistently stalked by a man currently in possession of my badge.

He is highly skilled at blending in, sometimes presenting himself as openly gay, and has integrated into Mariska Hargitay’s life under the name “Dan.”

I have personally witnessed and filmed him. He often acts through intermediaries.

B. Deaths and Identity Manipulation

After I slept with Joey Ross of Oakdale, California, he was murdered two days later.

Without my knowledge, my body parts had been “purchased” or “spoken for.”

My identity was manipulated at birth via a process referred to as “lotus flowering,” meaning my name and life were sold or given away.

C. Scott Peterson Case and Related Matters

I believe Scott Peterson was set up, possibly via the LA Innocence Project, and his public case has been used to target me.

I assert that the person known as “Scott Peterson” to the public is not the true individual.

I also believe that a woman named Susie Sullivan in New York City is, in fact, Laci Peterson.

D. Covert Activity Observed

I have witnessed:

CIA-associated “cleaners” wearing white booties

A staged robbery across the street from me

A woman taking a photo as if aware of covert activities

Removal of decorations, specifically an angel topper from a Christmas tree, associated with “angel investors” and “elves”

I believe all these incidents are connected to owl ceremonies, secrecy rituals, and sacrifice.

E. Direct Threats and Past Crimes

I am currently under what I believe to be a “CIA hit” and a threat (“hed”) directed at me and my children (excluding VA), related to efforts to conceal a rape and poisoning that occurred at Fort Jackson in 2004.

I retain physical evidence that those responsible do not want recovered.

F. Broader Evidence and Observations

My evidence suggests:

Orders have been placed to harm or kill Donald Trump.

MK Ultra–style manipulation and coercion have been used.

Not all individuals in the networks of Mariska Hargitay or Kash Patel are acting under their own free will.

G. Suppression of Reports

I have attempted to contact law enforcement, including the Oakdale Police Department, but my emails have been blocked and returned as undeliverable.

Exhibit Email Routing shows rejection codes “550 5.4.1 Access denied.”

This is not incompetence but obstruction.

H. Diplomatic Immunity and Harassment

Despite possessing diplomatic immunity, I have been harassed, falsely targeted, denied justice, and censored in attempts to raise alarms about these dangers.

I will refrain from any retaliation unless harm befalls Mariska Hargitay, her children, or my own children.

Should this occur, I intend to invoke diplomatic immunity publicly, provide evidence to national media, and expose these matters in full.

I. Additional Knowledge and Claims

I possess evidence regarding:

DCSS

The San Francisco sewer system

Owl ceremonies

Cases involving JFK, Princess Diana, and the Black Dahlia

The Bohemian Boys Club and Justice Clarence Thomas

I have evidence that Gavin Newsom, Governor of California, faked the death of Sherri Sneed (Sherri Papini) and took over conservatorship and royalty benefits related to the movie about her kidnapping, Long Way Home, for personal financial gain.

3. MESSAGE TO KASH PATEL

Kash Patel — you are a pawn in a larger game, positioned to fall. Consider me your net.

In 2020, records show your salary as $13,000 — you were either thrown into the blinds to shield three other people, or you placed yourself there.

People remember more of what you do now than what you have done in the past.

You must decide: either you oppose me, or you stand with me.

At the residence near Doctor’s Hospital in Modesto, California, on May 1st, 2020, when you, Kash Patel, “went into the blinds” was the same time Lisa Alone died — not me.

My daughter and I were NATO’s world budget. The reason I allowed that to happen was to place us on opposite sides of the divide, giving my daughter more space and safety to run when the right time came.

I do not truly oppose anyone — I have people I trust on every side. While I may not trust them in this moment, I know my daughter does. This will happen with or without you. Would you like the net? The opposite of Sandra Bullock’s names — call it, and in it shall we speak.

4. EXHIBITS

[List here any photographs, documents, or other material evidence you wish to include, for example:]

Exhibit A: Photograph of stalker

Exhibit B: Email delivery failure notice

Exhibit C: Physical evidence from Fort Jackson

Exhibit D: Documentation of Sherri Sneed/Sherri Papini

5. AFFIRMATION

I affirm under penalty of perjury that the above statements are true and correct to the best of my knowledge and belief.

Executed this 13th day of August, 2025, in [Your County], California.

Felicia Ann Hook Hagler

(Signature)

Subscribed and sworn to before me this 13th day of August, 2025.

Notary Public

Fucia

6. CLOSING STATEMENT TO DIRECTOR AND ALL STILL IGNORING ME

I will not move or relinquish my position. I rely on my diplomatic immunity despite betrayal and ongoing abuse.

I will not snap under pressure, but know this: the one to whom you gave my badge threatens even Mariska Hargitay’s children. If you refuse to act, I will go public — Fox News and beyond — to prove I am not exaggerating.

Joey Ross was killed two days after I slept with him, not knowing my body was sold. Kristen Smart, Laci Peterson, and others tied to MK Ultra show that victims can also become attackers.

I have evidence Kristen Smart may still be alive. NSA names Garrett, Paul, Charles, and Danny appear in this network.

Despite repeated attempts to contact law enforcement, including Oakdale PD, I have been blocked (Exhibit: Email Routing, Code 550 5.4.1, Access Denied). This is not incompetence — this is obstruction.

I am seated, unmoved, and waiting.

I am the victim.

I am still standing.

I still win.

Respectfully,

In a school not far from here,

Lived kids quite wise and kids with fear.

There was Emma, so sunny, with bright golden shoes,

And Malik—oh, Malik—he was always in the news.

The halls would whisper, “That boy is bad.”

But Emma, she wondered, “Why’s Malik so sad?”

He grumbled and shouted, he stomped down the hall,

But deep down, he hardly spoke much at all.

Ms. Rivera, their teacher, was clever and bright—

She said, “Words are like nails; they pound hard and tight.

If you’re hurting, be gentle. If you’re mad, talk to me.

It’s the nails we don’t see that hurt hearts deeply.”

“Each time you’re unkind, pound a nail in this board.

When you’re gentle or helpful, then pull out a cord.

At the end, look close—just what do you see?

Holes, dents, and scratches—where kindness should be.”

Emma thought of Malik, so angry, alone—

She sat down beside him, lowered her tone:

“I’ve seen the hard days. I’ve seen how you hide.

But sometimes the bravest just need friends by their side.”

Malik blinked in surprise, and he tried not to cry.

“At my house, it’s heavy. Sometimes, I ask why.

I lose my cool quick and I get in a fight,

But I’m tired of being the ‘bad guy’ at night.”

Emma said softly, “One kind word heals a ton.

When you’re hurt inside, hurting others seems ‘fun.’

But I think you’re more—so much more than the pain.

Let’s pull out some nails. Let’s wash off this stain.”

So Emma and Malik, with helpers and friends,

Pulled nails from their board. Began making amends.

With kindness, with laughter, with hearts open wide,

They patched up the holes that were hurting inside.

Now each time you’re angry or ready to shout,

Think of old Malik and the pain he let out.

Kindness is power—don’t let pain spread.

Change a life, save a heart, with kind words instead.

Be the one to notice, to listen, to care—

For the nails you don’t see hurt more than a tear.

If someone is hurting, reach out, hold on tight…

You’ll pull them from darkness, back into the light.

And think of dear Jesus, the cross and the pain,

The nails everyone saw, but some wounds were plain—

The ones that were hidden, that cut deeper still,

The nails you don’t see, the ones that can kill

The caring inside, leaving hearts cold and bare,

Draining hope from a soul till there’s nobody there.

For anger means feeling—being human, alive,

But not feeling at all? That’s the hardest to survive.

So remember the wounds that are hardest to spot—

Believe it or not, they matter a lot.

Words can hurt, but kindness can heal.

See the good in each other, and help friends reveal—

That everyone’s story has chapters of pain,

But with kindness, respect, and love,

We all rise again.

Think of it like Willy Wonka, in that chocolate ride,

Floating near the blades they mocked, though warnings they couldn’t hide.

Relieving pressure keeps you grounded, helps you cope and rise,

It lifts you up when you’re down or lets you escape the skies.

But when you’re stalled, feeling bloated, like you’re ready to burst,

And no one tries to lighten your load, it only makes it worse.

It’s hard to keep on moving, when the weight feels so strong—

Sometimes all it takes is one kind voice to help you carry on.

Just one person believing in you, when you’ve lost your way,

Can spark the light inside your heart and brighten up your day.

So be that friend who listens, who cares, who makes a stand—

Because kindness is the strongest nail remover in the land.

Episode: “Not Just a Gun: The Real Badass Code — Part 2”

BBB (Host, smirking with crossed arms):

“Fruit salad, let me finish that for you — if you want to be a real badass, don’t just reach for a weapon like it’s your VIP pass. No, no, pumpkin. Real badassery means you know how to take down a problem without having to pull metal. You don’t just own the moment by showing a gun—you own it by showing you could handle yourself if it ever came to fisticuffs. Beat the other guy’s ass with skill and guts, not just firepower.”

Felicia the Fork’s Follow-Up Ditty

🎶

If you gotta pull that shiny tool,

You already lookin' like a fool.

Real strength’s in your fists and mind,

Not in the clips you left behind.

You wanna be the one who stands?

Not just the one who waves commands.

So put the gun down, don’t be dumb—

Beat his ass, don’t shoot the gun!

🎶

Scene Flashback — Kid’s Lesson Continued

Felicia: “Pumpkin, you wanna hear the truth? Anyone with a weapon can start a fight. But it takes a real badass to finish it clean, fair, and without needing a metal friend.”

The Kid: “So you’re saying... be strong enough that you don’t have to threaten?”

Felicia: “Exactly. Threaten? Nah. Show you can handle the heat with your own two hands. That’s the street legend, not the guy hiding behind a gun.”

Dealer Dijon (with a grin):

“Most cartel drama is fireworks and bangs. Real power? Quiet, calculated, and hands-on respect. The kind you earn without ever firing a shot.”

Judge Jalapeño Judy (smacking gavel):

“Here’s the ruling — guns make you loud, fists make you proud. Show me a thug with broken knuckles and empty clip, I’ll show you someone who’s seen the real fight.”

Parole Pepper Benson (soft, shaking head):

“Remember, every time you pull that weapon, you hand your power to chaos. Real control is walking away knowing you could stand your ground without it.”

Felicia’s Final Forkdown Challenge

🎤

Think you’re tough with a piece in hand?

Try winning a fight where you land.

No silencers, no kicks that run—

Just guts, grit, and getting it done.

So pick your battles, pick your stance,

Real badasses give fisticuffs a chance.

Don’t be a tool, don’t shoot to stun—

Beat his ass, don’t pull the gun.

🎤