Prologue


Everything, everyone underground.  The Calliope.  That'll do it mister.  Shhhhhhhhh.  There.  That's better.  And that's it for the day.  Class dismissed.  Just kidding.  SIT DOWN!!!  That's where we're going to pick up... eh hem.  You two.  In the back.  Get out of my classroom. 


The fiction became its own fantasy adjacent the court as the S.C.'s and the d.d.g's went toe to toe at the Grumble Neck County Enclave.


Spring has sprung (doi-yoi-yoi-yoi-oing) bringing once again the mindless blonde mutants, (delicious albeit) becoming its own reward, conditioned with the dual-action-secretarial-hair-pencil-bonnet-transcribing-legal-document-type-on-toasted-jelly-sandwiches with the Play-Doh Rewards Program, the Battery Operated Radical Paint and Powdering Shit Show, and Cedar Mushroom Contestants, surviving onlyon the nibbling of the outdated 'n obsolete Snak-Wrap Value City Furniture Outlet circulars with the 'lil rubber bands 'bout ready to snap at any second, and nothing to wash 'em down with but orange nonprofit ink pens of the unchained genre.


Mmmm.  smack... squirt squir-ta-chase!!!


Come to think of it, in hindsight it was psychological turgor pressure - verbatim alamagokis mindu!!  repetition begetting skill to the collective irony and three-day forecast this time of the most beautifully tearful of freshest air you've ever had enter your nostrils and filling your tired lungs; pasteurized, and there weren't a single brass safety pin on God's green earth that could pop this wobbly mess.  Nope.  Not a chance.  The pain, guilt, battle scars, the Idle-Rich-Yet-Tokyo-Drifting-Shortbread-Yumminess of broken wooden bird bath day-spa and wormery with all the twine in the world to fix it all after Mario Jammies later on.  Go fireworks.  No?  Unfathomable yet the five forlorn and twirly drinking straws at the Morgan household after for the spitball contest under Trampoline Terrace from those involved, the golden platter at Milridge, the warm summer heat, smelling smoked meat, swatting mosquitoes just before sunset.  The two for one deal was back, juxtaposed in action and cornered into the Mason jar tha fell down the rocky (some might say 'rumbly-tumbly') ravine that was only two blocks from Thesaurus Vineyard, shattering, all what matter of bouncing coins and ching sounding sound bytes.  Nothing like it.  And this is really where things start to pick up, so listen close.  You.  Put that down and open your ears.


[10-second pause]


Thank you.


PENCILS DOWN!!!  I'll only say this once - there will be no note taking in my class!!!


Thank you. 


[20-second pause]


WE'VE got the inconsiderate wild mouth who shall go unnamed at Furtherman's Fresh Farm and Apricot Grove, whose lips are dripping of WW2 tanks and ranks, jabbering away like the John Deer Tractor that he is with the deadliner at Charlie's Pub down the way, making sure the curtain vs Hamster's Dirty Bird's still at his birdcage; a real name dropper with a slimy story that's way too graphic for lil' ears so wet along with Shannon's sloppy-mushy kisses in Hyannisport, allobtuse; all corny yet sufficient in spite of the crack in the rusty furnace - coated in three years of spider webs,  Harris' legal team was cranking up the heat full blast, still, Nic had a few aces up that sleeve of his on that particular night.  All of a sudden, Trent ran through the door, slinging around vinegar and baking powder all around the hotel room, kicking over the office chair, shoving everyone around, then slipping on a Del Taco wrapper full of two-day old beans.  Pippa jumped on top, tugging away at his wife-beater, playfully yanking away at his dirty-dusty blond hair, giving him the biggest wedgie of his natural born life.  Your order sir?  There shall be no ketchup?  Ohh ya ya - mambo mambo