#treasurer

The killer? Meet Kimberly Skaggs, former treasurer of the Republican Party of New Mexico. No instinct to stop. No instinct to help or to dial for an ambulance. Just flee and try to cover her tracks. A judge just ruled she’s staying in jail ahead of trial.

Investigators used Flock surveillance cameras to trace the vehicle back to Skaggs, who allegedly took off after hitting him. At the crash site: a shattered bike, scattered car debris, and 208 feet of skid marks — nearly the length of a football field.

This isn’t her first instance of reckless-driving. She’s been hauled into NM court SIX times for speeding, including a 2025 case where she was allegedly clocked at 88 mph in a 35 mph zone — dismissed only because prosecutors no-showed. Nearly every citation, conveniently dropped.

Prosecutors say that after killing Brown, instead of calling for help, Skaggs hid the car at another property. Once police got a warrant, they found blood spatter, missing parts, and tire marks matching the bike. She didn’t turn herself in until June 24 — two days later.

She’s now facing felony charges for leaving the scene of a fatal accident and tampering with evidence.

A party that built its brand on “law and order” keeps producing leaders who are amoral and criminal to their core.

SkekTember, day 2- "Hoarded treasures"

In a dim, dust-mottled corner of the Castle’s Treasury, beneath folds of velvet shadow and high, crumbling vaults, sat skekShod the Treasurer.

Half-lost between a drooping velvet tablecloth and the weight of his own silence, he hunched over his gleaming hoard—his little kingdom of color and cold.

Before him: a spilled constellation of treasure.

Crystals, like raindrops frozen mid-laughter.

Baubles, all whispers and glints.

Delicate filigree loops and forgotten ornaments from lost eras.

Each caught the candlelight like it was a secret it wanted to tell.

With gnarled, fumbling fingers, skekShod sorted them, counted them—not by worth, but by shimmer, by shape, by feel.

He did not speak.

He never did, not really.

His pleasure was in the quiet clinks, the silky slide of gem on gem, the intimate hush of wealth being admired.

Then—ah.

A pendant. Skeksis-made. Old. Twisted gold cradling a large, translucent stone that flickered red, then purple, then something unnamed.

The kind of ornament worn long ago, perhaps during a banquet, or a celebration.

He lifted it gently, reverently, like it might sing if held just so.

His eyes, small and glassy, lit up.

He smiled. Wide. Childlike. Crooked.

To the others—cackling in the grander halls—this would’ve been a portrait of vulgar greed: the Treasurer hunched in shadow, all claws and hunger and hoarded glitter.

But no.

For skekShod, this was something else.

This was joy.

This was beauty.

This was life.

Each gem a star in his small sky. Each ornament a lullaby he could touch.

Here, in this forgotten corner of stone and silence, the world made sense.

He turned the pendant in his hands again.

And again.

The gem caught the light, and for a moment, it was brighter than the suns of Thra.

And skekShod smiled ever wider.

*DISCLAIMER*

This art challenge is not official or sponsored by the JHC. SkekTember is a small, fun thing created by a fan, for fans.

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I do not consent to ANY platform to use my artwork, posts, writing or reels to train generative AI tools.

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Artwork may be reblogged but not used or redistributed elsewhere without written consent.

Artwork © @skekla

All publically recognizeable canon The Dark Crystal characters, designs, settings and situations TM & © Jim Henson / Brian Froud/Universal studios/ The Jim Henson Company

Trésorier du roi

DreamUp

Judas was drawn by the crowd. He was fascinated by the supernatural. He was thinking always of earthly things. He had no real desire to worship Christ: he sought only personal gain. He demanded what he wanted, and he made himself treasurer somehow and stole from the group's funds. He never had a true relationship with Christ, had no understanding of divine truth, no hunger for salvation. And Judas is not a solitary figure. Every church has its Judases, and millions of them have given Jesus a kiss of betrayal.