The author comments, "Actually, it's the first line of my own bad novel!"
More, more!
Beverly, huddled under the bleachers, sniffed back a tear. Kicked off the
cheerleading squad! All of her mother's dreams for her, dashed! How could she
even go home now? What to do? What to do? She pulled the back of her hand across her nose dragging out a long, gooey string of snot. "Beverly, is that you?" someone called from the edge of the bleakers It was Melanie, and with her Tiffany and Shiffona. Great. They probably had already heard the news and were here to pseudo-console her all the while trying to eke out the juicy details of Beverly's great downfall. Beverly turned her head away to pretend she hadn't heard anyone call her name. It was then that the warp-circle opened up behind her and large loincloth-wearing behemoth of a man stepped out. Before she could say,"Nail polish remover." the man picked her up stepped through the circle and into...
Hysteria overtook me. I couldn't see straight even with special glasses. Where was the god damn phone? I was definately losing my mind. Where was the phone? I need a pill. I need prozac. No, I need a man. I definitely need a man. Where do you find a man at 11:30pm? The supermarket. No, I can't see a man pondering over frozen meats at this time of the night. I could call George but George lost his mind the minute I took off my shirt. He said my breasts were uneven and he couldn't cope with something like that. Two thousand dollars worth of implants to fix it and at a 38D I still am losing my mind and offically manless.
The author comments, "I like it, I love it, I want some more of it!!!!!!!! - Country song"
Monique, shivering despite the near-tropic heat, contemplated the sleeping man beside her. Was she really now
the wife of a Duke who she had never met? Everything had happened
so fast since she stepped off of the Pacific Princess... "Well", she thought, "I joined the foreign service to combat the boredom of my middle-class midlands upbringing, and now look where it's gotten me."
She stood up and brushed the sand from her shapely haunches, and squinted into the sun, trying to find a telephone. She'd been unable to contact the chief directly from the boat, and the coded messages left on her soup plate at dinner each evening had only sufficed to let her know that the bureau was nearly completely unaware of the Duke's mad plan to corner the world copra market and dominate the local economy. She wasn't afraid of his politics, for he had none, but if "the other side" could offer him more than the home office, the world's copra supply could soon be disappearing behind the "coconut curtain."
As Kix peeled himself from the fender, hoping that Flammie wouldn't notice the damage, he heard the radio in his squad car sputter. Reaching through the open window and grabbing the microphone, he whomped the radio twice with his hand and heard the frantic voice of his dispatcher, Ima June, as she yelled, "Yo, Kix, where you at? Eb Barkis from Eb and Flo's Cut Rate Funeral Parlor & All Night Diner been callin' off an' on for nigh 'bout a hour. Seems like somebody done brung in yore brother Slam's poor mangled body, and they said somethin' about maybe you ought to come down here and investigate, you bein' sheriff an' all, and maybe arrange for the funeral as you bein' next of kin an' all, an' then Flo got on the line an' sez to tell you she made some fresh banana puddin' an' why don't you stop in after you done seein' about yore poor mangled dead brother an' she'll give you the next-of-kin discount special she's been
runnin' this week!"
While Ima June paused to take a breath and probably file another fingernail, Kix hopped in the car and sped off, still not noticing his daughter hiding in the floor of the back seat. As he sped away, he could hear the Flakers yelling something, but he figured they'd be fine still handcuffed to their cars and it wasn't like he was gonna need either set of his cuffs for the next hour or so.
Ignoring the by-now screaming Flakers, Sofie Mae expertly shooed the hog into Floyd's old toolshed, then grabbed a pair of bolt-cutters and headed for the disheveled couple.
"Floyd, I'm gonna cut you two idiots loose, but you'd better get your ugly pink cars away from here before Kix Dunkin remembers that he cuffed you up. Flammie, what in tarNAtion were you doin' here?"
Flammie held herself as upright and proud as one can be when one is handcuffed to one's car. "Not that it's any of your business, you man-stealin' harlot, but I was tryin' to see if our new neighbor was gonna come to our church! Somethin' that you might consider, missy!"
Sofie laughed the deep country laugh of a woman who's seen it all, and run a farm by herself, too. "Don't forget which one of us's tied up and which one's got the bolt-cutters, ma'am, and don't forget which of us is married to the idiot who let mah hog get loose! Now shut up and get outa here afore Kix gets back."
"But..."
"Shut up, Flem!" both women chorused.
Grumbling, Flem allowed himself to be cut free, then Flammie. "Y'all are gonna have to visit Resolve Flumgartner's shop to have him remove those cuffs, but they'all ain't chained together at least. And y'might wanna leave that car at Bubba's Garage to have them clean it up for ya. "
"But there's a dent in MAH fender now!" wailed Flammie. But Sofie Mae had already hurried back to the house to check on her strangely-attractive neighbor. Flem allowed himself one last ogle of Sofie Mae's departing backside before Flammie snarled "Just wait until we get home, Flem Flaker!".
Meanwhile, an unusually somber Kix Dunkin was holding his hat over his heart, looking at the not more than 65% left of his brother on the morgue table. "Hoo-ey, did he have that expression on his face when you found him?"
Eb drawled, "Well, a-course I didn't find him, young Wally Harvbanger down Route 1 was going froggin' up on the Peak and he brung 'em in, plus a buncha frogs. He scare out half the lunch crowd - I gotta get me a sign for the front door of the diner. How about "No shirts, no shoes are fine, bodies around to the back."?
Kix regarded the body with what he hoped looked like professional scrutiny. "Natcheral causes," he said at last. "Seems to me ol' Slam fell outten his deer stand and natcherly that'ud do it."
"But what about all them missin' hunks?" wondered Eb aloud, while he wondered silently if he had enough putty on hand to fill in the missing parts without having to make a run to K-Mart to replenish his supply. "Fallin' didn't do that."
"Naw," allowed Kix, peeved that his professional abilities were being questioned, "but I spec' he hit a buncha limbs on the way down an' natcherly that'ud knock some chunks off'n him. Then, you got to allow for them buzzards. They right thick up on the peak and they natcherly work mighty fast. Yup, it's natcheral causes."
As Kix and Eb debated the various means of natcheral causes, Trixi saw her chance to slip unnoticed out of the back of the squad car and wander into Flo's diner for an order of pork rinds and an extra-large strawberry milkshake, her favorite post-coital snack.
Bertie, whose nerves were never rock-solid, and who had just been through an awful lot, spasmed startledly, sending his plastic water cup bouncing loudly across the tiles. Bending quickly to mop up the water, he took a deep breath, then said "I'm fine, Sofie..Miz Strunk. Be out in a minute."
"It's OK, Mr. Lindenwood. Ah'm just gonna clean up the mess mah hog made."
While Sofie resourcefully hunted up a bucket and mop, Bertie used the chance to sneak back to the bedroom and finish freshening up.. A dab of Dippity-Do in just the right places transformed him to what he hoped was a dashing rake of a man. Just as he was putting the finishing touches on the knot of his sexiest bow-tie, the ones that made all the undergrads giggle, a timid knock at the door made him jump once more.
"Ken Ah come in, Mr. Lindenwood?
