"Oh, fudge", Mary cried as her roadster sputtered to the curbside. "My radiator is leaking", the attractive slender young woman beside her commented, "and I'll never get to the hop in time to meet Stan!".
"What?" Mary asked the attractive slender young woman, surprise on her cherubic face. "You didn't tell me that you were going to meet Stan!"
The attractive slender young woman, whose name was Spinoza after the Jewish philosopher, a name she hated and so usually went by the description "attractive slender young woman", even though she was neither slender nor young, but yet attractive, cursed under her breath, realizing that she had realized her realization about the radiator aloud or allowed, depending on which of the homonyms best applies to the situation. "I must have forgotten," the attractive slender young woman said, smiling an attractive, albeit not slender nor young, smile.
Mary's head, meanwhile was spinning, in a figurative sense. Of course! She was going to the hop to meet Stan! That would explain the fingerprints on Angela Lansbury's breakfast cereal, and the duct tape on the driver's-side airbag! All of the pieces fell together, and the bigger picture was realized, and thus, the prophecy was fulfilled and the eagle from the west and the bear from the north had realized the cold war fears of biblical symbolism.
"Of course!" Mary screamed aloud, pointing an accusatory finger towards her passenger, "It was you all along who stole the Maltese Falcon that Plugged Roger Rabbit!"
"Wasn't it 'Who Framed Roger Rabbit?'" The attractive slender young woman wondered, also aloud. The attractive slender young woman was very poor at keeping her thoughts to herself, ever since her horrible skiing accident had resulted in the destruction of the part of the brain that keeps thoughts to oneself, as well as the death of her young, slender dog Spot, for whom she named herself. "Oh Spot," Spinoza said aloud, "I did it all for you!"
Meanwhile, Mary was disgusted at her soon-to-be-ex-friend's poor knowledge of pop culture. "The Disney movie was Who Framed Roger Rabbit. The original book for which it was named was Who Plugged Roger Rabbit. For some reason, Disney did not want to have Plugged in the title." "Perhaps because it would have been faithful to the original work if they had," the attractive slender young woman suggested. "I don't know," Mary answered with a grin. "I guess it's just a Mystery!"
She knew, as the sand-laden wind swept a tumbleweed over the trunk of
her '79 Nova, that Eduardo would not come back.
He could never bring himself to stay with a person who drove a '79 Nova,
she knew. It was a sure sign of her low public standing, the fact that
she would never be accepted in the upper circles of Eduardo's home village,
San Geraldo. Just because she was an outsider! Well, she would show him.
She decided to drive back to San Geraldo, to show them that she was a woman
who could throw a party as well as the rest of them.
She had been driving for days through the desert on Interstate 69, pondering the immaturity of the person who directed her life, when suddenly she came upon the stately white houses with large pillars of the village of San Geraldo. She parked the Nova, out of town, to avoid hearing their scornful whispers: "In Spanish," they said with sneers hidden behind their fans, "No Va means 'it does not go.'" This was a fact that she had had to live with ever since she found the car on her doorstep that fine August morning, and had taken it in as her own. Oh, sure, she knew the whispers that it had caused in the upper reaches of the San Geraldo society, even the pain it must have caused Eduardo, to know that his muchacha was the owner of a car whose name had a humorous spanish translation. It seemed that the only person, she reflected as she walked into town, regretting her choice of spiked heels, was the swarthy mechanic Duncan, with whom she had considered having a tumultuous affair, if it weren't for the fact that she thought that 'Duncan' was a homosexual sounding name, and she feared that he would leave her for another man. Still, though, even as the sun beat down on her, the thoughts of sitting with Duncan in the walk-in refrigerator at the local ice cream parlor, taking chill pills and listening to cool jazz, kept the heat from her brow. For this reason she was barely sweating when she entered the town, ready to claim back her suitor that her family might raise in social status, and that the author might justify labeling this "Victorian."
Gleeck checked his radial circuitry one last time before shutting the hatch.
Ionizing radiation in this part of the Uncharted Zone was playing havoc with
his motor skills, and occasionally caused a brief hallucination to flash through
his otherwise logical brain paths.
Bitterly he remembered how the other kids had talked him into
flying his patrol ship to the Uncharted Zone, with their calls of "chicken"
and saying, "everyone does it." It was well known - the long-term effects
of the ionizing radiation in this part of the galaxy, the hallucinogenic
qualities that made the place rife with teenage kids looking for a quick
"high." Gleek had never been before, he knew what he had always been
taught in school: that he should just say no to ionizing radiation.
Still, he had given in. He probably wouldn't have if Zorkina
hadn't been there, lovely Zorkina, her thin, pale blue necks twining with
a suppleness that made his young blood boil. Quickly, he thrust these
thoughts from his mind, remembering that this was a coming of age story
and not a harlequin romance.
Anyhow, here he was, coming of age as the ionizing radiation played with his mind. Suddenly he came to wonder why nobody wanted their kids out here, why, what with the pleasing effects it had on his motor skills and his otherwise logical brain paths. Then, he realized, when suddenly he saw a giant cosmic entity, larger than himself, larger than his entire planet. At first, he thought it was one of the hallucinations, but when it didn't fade after a few moments, he realized suddenly that this was the great evil intelligence that inhabited the Uncharted Zone, similar to the thing that lived on the planet at the center of the universe in the (what was it, fifth?) Star Trek movie. He realized the harmful effects when suddenly, the pleasant feelings subsided, and the cosmic entity looked down on him with eyes bright enough to comsume galaxies.
"That one's free," the giant cosmic entity said in a rumbling voice. "You have to pay next time."
"Oh, fudge", Mary cried as her roadster sputtered to the curbside. "My radiator is leaking",
the attractive slender young woman realized, "and I'll never get to the
hop in time to meet Stan!".
Angrily, she yanked the hood release and stomped out to survey the damage. Stomping a bit too hard in the loose gravel, she slipped and her arm slid under the hood to touch the steaming radiator. Pain and frustration overwhelmed her and she let out a animalistic howl. Grimicing fiercely, the veins in her neck bulged. Her muscles swelled and the cute gold buttons on her Ann Klein jacket popped off to plink on the hood of her car. Growling, she turned green as her matching skirt split and her Italian shoes exploded. Miraculously, somehow her ripped shirt and remnants of her skirt stayed on. Then the she-hulk pummeled the car, putting great dents in the roof with her mighty muscled fists. A passing policeman stopped briefly, but he failed to come to her assistance - in fact he floored it after seeing her raise her car above her head, roar, and throw it into the ditch on the opposite side of the road. After punishing the car some more, she finally calmed down and returned to her old self ju
st as Stan came up the road to look for her. "My God, are you all right?!" Stan exclaimed, staring incredulously at her tattered clothes and what was left of the car. "Uh, yea, fine" she mumbled, "but I think I burned my hand. Sorry I missed our date, honey buns".
Lord Farthingstoke leaned back, enveloped in the supply-tufted
folds of burgundy calf-skin leather that was his favourite
wing-backed chair, and allowed himself the luxury of a few
uninterrupted draws on his meerschaum. Tonight would indeed be a
coup, and all of Middenshire's society would have him and him alone
to thank. Imagine having both the stroke of luck to meet the famed
French gentleman-detective, Herve Poivrot, on the steamer over from
the colonies, and the incredible fortitude to not even hint to his
usual guests of the invitation he had proffered that gentleman to
visit Ash Knoll. Wouldn't the ladies and gentlemen of the Antiquar-
ian League thrill when he asked their surprise and esteemed guest
to relate some tale of not-quite-so-cunning miscreance. It had been
a shame that he had been forced to include Lord Bath-Barre in the
invitee list, for the man was still holding an unfortunate grudge
over some jointly held game birds which had shown up on Lord
Farthingstoke's table, quite by accident. But hopefully Lady
Bath-Barre would make up for the potential display of vitriol, with
her sunny disposition, and obvious penchant for Lord
Farthingstoke's firearm collection
His reveries were interrupted by the quietly sudden appearance of Ashbury. 'Your brandy, Sir Geoffrey', he offered, his tone overly formal. Taking the proffered drink, Lord Farthingstoke had cause to ponder the change in Ashbury since he had been forced to dismiss the chambermaid, Ashleigh. When Lady Doris had discovered one of her favourite emerald studs missing, all clues had led to the girl, and Lord Farthingstoke, in a stroke meant to nip any thoughts that the other help may have had of 'helping themselves', had dismissed the weeping girl on the spot. It had been unfortunate that Lady Doris discovered the missing stud in her second-best evening bag only hours later, but the deed had been done, and it would not have been seemly for the Lord of the Manor to renege on a decree of such magnitude.
This mystery is continued.
Suddenly, a truck stopped in back of Mary's car. "Howdy! You having some trouble, ma'am?", the man inside the truck yelled out to her. Mary looked over. He was beautiful. She had never seen such beauty, such hair, such bulging muscles. He got out of his truck and Mary nearly fell over. He was 7 feet tall and as tan as a California native. "I'll help you, if you want. I'm Bubba,but you can call me Lubie. I live up the road and we saw you pull over. It must be your radiator." he said softly.
Mary stepped back and showed him the hood of the car. Instead of popping the hood, like she expected, he kissed her and pushed her up on the hood. A slight giggle escaped her lips as he tickled her feet. She lifted his shirt over his head, placed her quivering lips on his chest, and gave him a razberry.