The tall guy’s comment about the lady’s hat was meant to be a compliment.
In the situation pictured, the little lady is obviously:
a. pointing the gun at the wrong guy.
b. drunk.
c. unaware that she is deep in a trance.
d. overreacting to a perceived insult.
Tico, the taco, had a dearth of life. He was eaten shortly after his creation.
Lost were the glorious contributions he might have made to the nation.
‘I’m going,’ said Tenwillett. ‘Some fool has to get the supplies, and it might as well be me.’
‘You mustn’t,’ said Lila, but not forcefully.
The rest of the dregs trapped in the cabin averted their gazes to contemplate the warped floor of the hastily built shack. Outside, the wind howled. A sneer curled a dance on Tenwillett’s lips. He wrenched open the door and threw himself out into the storm.
Staggering bend and flap toward the trail, Tenwillett knew he must succeed or die. With a light laugh, he turned toward the original landing site and pushed on. Hunched, head down, he moved, but after an eternity of fifteen minutes, something changed. What was it? Ah, the roar of the storm had suddenly dampened to silence. The wind had fallen away to stillness. Tenwillett raised his head. The snow still fell, but peacefully, dreamily. And what was that strange orange light? What were those floating blobs of pale color behind the curtain of snow?
‘We are here, but you shouldn’t be,’ sang a soft chorus.
I knew I must succeed or die, but dang it, I thought for sure I would succeed was Tenwillett’s last thought.
I knew he must succeed or die, but dang it, I thought for sure he would succeed were the final thoughts of Lila and the dregs.
The floating blobs continued to live peacefully forever.
Loon: My guest today for the 3 Question Interview is the ghost of Buffalo Bill. Mr. Bill, were you acquainted with many buffaloes?
Buffalo Bill’s ghost: Yes, sir, I surely was.
Loon: I’m not surprised because of your name. And were any of the buffaloes you met able to talk?
Buffalo Bill’s ghost: Not so as you’d notice, particularly when I was through with ’em.
Loon: Ah. Finally, what material is that hat made of?
Buffalo Bill’s ghost: Cured entrails.
(Loon vomits. Buffalo Bill’s ghost roars with laughter.)
Kim and Py, her cat, were most decidedly not fans of Uncle Miltie.
Kim is:
a. in the midst of her acclaimed ventriloquist act.
b. reacting to Milton Berle’s antics.
c. watching Julia Child pound a haddock.
d. weighing the advantages and disadvantages of the many weapons on display.
The clowns entered the dining room. Names neatly printed on discs above the salad forks at each place setting guided them to their assigned seats. They stood solemnly behind their chairs until Baffy, president pro-tem, indicated that they should be seated. Rollo and Ducky were invited to stand and recite the pledge. They did so. Soup was served and consumed in careful silence. Efficient footmen cleared the bowls and soup spoons, replacing them swiftly with plates of single miniature tomatoes on single lettuce leafs representing salad. No one even so much as thought of using the tomato in any untoward display of vulgarity. Night droned on. The main course was soberly consumed, as was the dessert. No spirits of any kind were served. Tumblers of water were the only quenchers of thirst available, and these were sipped modestly in reverent silence. The after dinner speaker, Jocko, was welcomed with completely subdued enthusiasm, and his carefully delivered lecture was well received by his dry eyed unsmiling behind painted smiles audience. Baffy then called for the meeting to be closed, and the clowns filed out of the dining room, retrieved their funny hats, and dispersed throughout the city. They attacked at dawn.
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Doc's Lunacy
5 of 5 stars to The Great Train Robbery by Michael Crichton goodreads.com/review/show/55…
