[mvisconte]

What!? You let your gat get filled with choco!? That's... that's... BLASPHEMOUS! Or maybe it's just a waste of good chocolate. Was that an early batch that didn't turn out just right?

Well, I'm not one to shoot my mouth off (especially when filled with yummy chocolate), but I will have to comment... you want to SHOOT something!? You're quite the hero, but... we are stuck in the ground in Podunk, Virginia (around the corner from East Jabyp).

We can't just go shootin' up the neighborhood (not that there's much else to do out here...). We have so much to do and we haven't even (made it to South America, made it to Chile, made it to Mexico, made it to jail!). We've such a long way to go. Be patient my fren', or we'll wind up in jail before we're ready. (Can you REALLY be ready to go to jail?)

And, just for props, let me quote Al Pacino for AM and your gat:

"Say 'hello' to my leetle fren!"



Shall I cut a little to the chase? Or chase a little to a short cut? Or something a little something for the something?

I don't get much time to write like I write, and I'm too poorly disciplined to simply write a short episode. Can I do it? Can I? I doubt it. Let me try...








Tall, Dark, and Ugly sat in our little meeting, looking back and forth and fifth and around. He had quit paying attention to what was being said, but I noticed he kept casting shy, sideways glances at Deb. He noticed KK and AM watching him and giggling to each other and he turned several shades of deeper and deeper red. He sat back in his chair, and proceeded to slide as low as he could in embarrassment. This didn't have much of an effect (other than comedic) as even when he scrunched down as far as he could, he was still taller than DS Vick standing at attention. Not the "ten-hut!" attention (get your minds out of the gutters), but at "TEN-SHUN!" attention. Vick was nursing a scotch and grinning at TD&U's discomfiture, happy to have the girls giggling at someone else for the nonce.

Pshrynk was keeping everybody well lubricated, pouring expensive booze as fast as it was drunk. Speaking of which, we soon would be.

Needing to turn attention back to our predicament, I "ting-ed" on my glass with our little dessert fork until everyone quieted down and slowly focused their attention back to me. Slowly and focused were related, due to the librication their brains were functioning under. I find that it quickens MY thought processes... or at least *I* think that I think faster. The internal eye is always vigilant. Or something. Dang, how much had *I* had? I wondered and noticed that my martini had mysteriously re-filled itself. Wow! What a magnificent invention... the bottomless martini glass. It was right up there with topless car washes an-

Sorry, I lost my train of thought. Off in the distance, a train whistle blew. A long, slow, mornful wail in the night. We were stuck, and stuck good. For all I knew, the radio was broken. Damned if *I* wanted to live the rest of my life before I was born. Or something. Is it warm in here? What leather certainly looks. Warm. I'm sorry. What did I say?

Stuckers. Yes, we're stuckers. Did you just hear a train? Whistle? Yes! I heard it too!

HEY! TD&U, what's up with you?

Tall, Dark, and Uglier had forgotten his embarrassment and was sitting with his elbows on the table, his face in his hards... a small puddle was forming in front of him. A subtle sobbing was heard coming from behind his hands.

"Dang, he sounds like a fire alarm! You! What's wrong!?"

Like I said, soft, subtle sobbing.

KK walked over behind his chair and reached up and put a hand on his shoulder.

"What's wrong, honey? You ok?"

At this, the sobbing grew louder and turned from soft into whimpering wails. The girls looked like they had come across a lost puppy. The guys looked a little uncomfortable, looking back and forth from one to another, not quite sure whether to be concerned or disgusted.

"Awww! What's wrong?", said AM. She couldn't reach his shoulder until he put his head on the table, his sobs subsiding. AM pulled him to her and craddled his head in her chest. I looked at Vick and noticed tears in HIS eyes.

"WAIT A MINUTE!" I yelled... "This isn't how the story goes!"

"Sometimes they kind of get away from you, don't they?" Pshrynk offered sage wisdom and began polishing the bar again.

Our gargantuan friend pulled himself together and noticed his position. He pulled back in horror, standing to his full height... not a good thing, as AM panicked and tightened her hold on his head. She was pulled off the ground to a height from which the floor looked quite far away. She shreiked and wrapped her legs around the giant's chest -- or would have, if they had fit. The man-beast was in full panic also at this point and started pistoning his legs as if he were trying to peddle backwards. KK, still behind him, was unfortunately only an obstacle and he was going to burst right through her as this speed. Deb jumped up and launched herself across the tables, intent on protecting AM or whatever happened to need protecting at the moment. Fine thing! Leaving ME unprotected.

KK twisted left in an attempt to get from under the juggernaut, and promptly fell, causing a bigger obstacle. As the giant continued in his retreat, the back of his knee met the new obstacle and he started over backwards, his center of gravity thrown off by a short and cuddly package wrapped desperately around him. At just that second, a flying Deb collided with the giant's midrift. KK wriggled out and jumped to her feet, turning to face what seemed like a mass of writhing arms, legs, and leather. Seeing the impending collapse, SHE grabbed ahold of the column as it went teetering by. A crash, a collapse, and a pile of women a-stradle a mound of man on top of a chair reduced to kindling.

Looking on and watching in disbelief (and from the expression, somewhat of envy), DS Vick shook his head and slowly dropped his face into his hands, sobbing gently.

A flash of fur and a joyeous barking joined the mound, and just for good measure, Geoff waded in, kicking legs and laughing, evidently enjoying himself greatly.

Pshrync, behind the bar, looked up at me and said, "Shall we"?

"No, when I wrestle and there are ladies involved, I prefer the odds to be slightly more in my favor."

"Aw heck, with everybody on top, even that giant can't escape."

"That's not what I meant. My preference would be less giant, less dog, less cook/gunner, and even less voyeurs." I smile wryly, hoping that Pshrynk wouldn't make me explain it.

"What do you mean?" asked Pshrynk.

"Oh bother!" I turned and launched myself into the fray to prevent any further elucidation. I heard a whoop from behind me and Pshrynk did a cannon-ball off the bar into the mass.

Between the leather, subcutaneous padding, hair, perfume (and a litte sweat), and peeks at intermammary sulcus, I didn't even notice the punches, several kicks to the shins (thanks, Geoff), a head butt (DS Vick - ouch), an elbow to the eye, and at least one pinch. That last one was kind of gentle and nice, and I'm hoping it was one of the lovely ladies instead of The Giant. I can hope, at least.

After several minutes of wrestling and grunts, the fighting turn from urgent to laughter and giggles, and we slowly pried ourselves apart.

Climbing to our feet, I noticed even the giant was smiling, having lost some of his fear of the women. Nothing like being up close and personal with your fears to get over them.

"So, Andre, what was with the copious flow of lacrimal fluids?"

"Whut?"

"heh... I meant 'Why were you crying?'"

"Ah KNOW thet, I watch cartoons. Whut didju call me?"

"Ah... Andre. From a wrestler in my day. Andre the Giant. Before your time, I guess."

"Aw. You can just call me