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NORTHCO TOO


Ocellaris Clownfish

Scientific classification

Frank awoke in a sweat. Something was not right.

There it was again. The noise is what woke him. He gathered himself and quietly exited the bed, moving quietly to the bureau and opening the lowest drawer to grasp his 45.

This all took him back to his Air Force training. He slid into his slippers and moved to the window of his bedroom that looked over his front yard.

No vehicles. It was inordinately dark due to the new moon and the cloud cover.  The garage light was on. Since it was not on when Frank retired some four hours prior, and since the light was movement sensitive; the game was afoot as they say.

He edged down the hall  He had grabbed his pen flashlight at the same time as he grabbed his gun and was using it to aid him in his present pursuit. He had to assume that this could all be a false alarm. He certainly could have dreamt the noise. Hell a squirrel or a skunk could have triggered the garage light sensor.


There it is. There it is again he thought.

WHO THE FUCK IS IN HIS HOUSE?

Slowly he proceeded down the staircase. Frank was pissed because the sweat was flowing profusely down his brow. He stopped to wipe his forehead with his pajama sleeve.

There it is again.

HALT. HALT I SAY.

A light, a flicker, a movement.

Pop!!!

Instinctively Frank fired his weapon from the lowest step of the staircase. He fired at the menacing figure in his sights.

Oh my God!!!  I just shot Sean!!!

Frank awoke to find himself on the floor in front of his entertainment center. He was covered in perspiration now and quickly found himself to the wall switch and turned on the light.

HOLY JESUS. It was just a dream. Just to make sure he ran upstairs and checked the bureau drawer and sure enough, there was the forty five as well as the flashlight.

Damn I hate that. That moment in the middle of the night where you are sure you have just awakened only to discover that you have simply continued into another dream.

He went back downstairs, since the adrenaline would prevent any sleep in the short term; got to the kitchen, made coffee and settled down in his executive chair for a smoke.

The moral is: keep your eyes open for you know not the day nor the hour.

WHAT THE HELL DAY IS IT ANYWAY?

He pressed the button and the pc appeared. Shortly he was on line. Three AM on the fourteenth. Hell its Monday. What the hell happened to Sunday? And what the hell was he doing on the floor?

Frank got to the office an hour and a half early. When he awoke from his nightmares he always went to work early. Somehow it shook the ghosts from the previous evening out of his inner soul.

He checked his desk and pulled out Monday's file. Sure enough, there were his weekly instructions; a meeting early on and the rest of the day on his company computer. He needed some time off.

Frank approached Sphincter after the meeting.

Sir I need a couple days. I have not been feeling up to snuff lately.

Frank. You are drinking too much. Tell you what. You have 45 days vacation time coming and our new policy is that if you do not use it in the next 15 months it's gone. Things are pretty much under control here.

Clean up your desk and check in with Sean and take off at noon.

See you next week Frank.

 Frank got on the phone and set up appointment with Kevin. Kevin was an old undergraduate buddy and his secret physician in Fargo. Frank chose him because Fargo was untraceable. I mean why would anyone check in at Fargo for any reason? Different state altogether, and less predictable as far as tracking down his records than Minneapolis.

Frank really never trusted anyone and that was how he had become a hermit; hell that is why he took a position with a corp in the middle of nowhere. Frank not only distrusted people, he really did not like them.

He cleaned up his paper work and called Sean into his office. Sean would take over his duties for the rest of the week.

Where ya goin Frank? Someplace warm I hope. Ha

Oh I will sally forth to the cities Sean. I have some old girl friends over there and it will be fun to eat out at some of the old restaurants. I will even take in a play and stop and see some old friends at the U.

Sounds like fun. And no drug tests for the next six months. Ha.

Frank bid Sean adieu and went back home to pack. Covered the pc with a special software that only he could crack and hit the road.

He started east just in case he was being followed and took a highway in Minnesota north to Fargo.

The old ghosts, as always, began making their voices heard. He grabbed a stogie from the glove compartment and put Bach into his stereo.

As he reached the outskirts of Fargo Frank stopped at the Hilary. He ordered the seafood platter after knocking down a Martini.

Frank awoke in the hotel across the street, careful to leave his car where it was; in the parking lot of the restaurant. No byes on the DUI's in Fargo. Ha. He cleaned up and went to Kevin's clinic.

Weight, height, BP, blood and urine. The normal protocol for his yearly check in with Kevin.

So how is your ass Frank? Asked id Dr. Kevin as he entered. We playin' poker tonight? And I hope you brought more cash than just for your visit with me,  You know, you really have a CEO health care package. Why do you never cash in on that here? Oh, it is the old paranoia is it not?

Frank never used his health insurance for these visits. The records would end up with the insurance company and on Sphincter's desk within the week.

You bet. I never hit casinos anymore Kev unless its with you. But let's take a shuttle this time and get a cab back, ok?

Sounds good. Now the tests will not come back until tomorrow, Jason's a little behind on things. But...

But...what?

How tall are you Frank?

Oh come on Kev. They just measured me.

No, I am serious.

6 with an inch to spare. You know that. It says right there, pointing to the file in the doctor's hand.

5'9" Frank. Here come with me.

They went out of the office and into the hall to the scale and the measurement was taken again....

Frank headed home on Friday using the shorter route and skipping Minnesota this time. Two grand richer via a machine. Hah. He would have been three grand down because of Hold Em had it not been for the machine.

Depression was grabbing him. 48 years old and he had lost four inches in height. Kevin could not explain it.

What about my clothes? My pants fit the same as they did before. He should have cuffs scraping the floor? Shirts fit just fine. And why did he have no problems with his shoes?  And the coats and the....

None of this made any sense to Frank. Kevin got the test results back. Everything checked out. But Kevin was upset and took some more blood. He had a buddy at Mayo and was sending the fluid down to Rochester for further testing.

All of a sudden the car stopped. Frank noticed that he was on the old road again; about ten miles from home. He had slowed down because he saw something in the road and pulled over to the shoulder to investigate. It was about thirty degrees, cool even up here for mid October and the stars and moon shown bright.  Still no snow. He looked west and saw some shadows moving.

Frank was not heard from for awhile.

The week passed and Sean got to work one minute early. Sean was a little 'anal' that way. NEVER GIVE THE BASTARDS AN EXTRA MINUTE. Well, one minute so there would never be an issue. This all when Sean put in at least eight hours on his pc at home on the weekends and at least eight more during the week.

Sean was a bit of a coward.  And of course a control freak. All cowards are control freaks because they must fantasize that they have some control over a universe they know deep down is chaotic. However, except for raucous nights at the castle, his life certainly was one of quiet desperation.

It was noon when Mr. Spincter wandered into his office. Sean you are an acting Super for awhile.

Where's Frank?

We are attempting to discover that. Do you know where he was going last week.

Well he said the Twin Cities, his old haunts. He even spoke of visiting the U.

No, Sean. He never made the Twin Cities.

O my God said Sean. What could have happened to him? O, he might have changed his mind you know. I mean it was a free week. Maybe he did end up going south a ways. I suppose.

Well we have called his cells. His personal and his car phone. Nada.  You sure Frank did not mention anything?

No Mr. Sphincter. I mean you have me concerned. I assure you I would not keep anything from you with regards to Frank anyway.

And in regards to anything else Sean?

Holy shite!!! What the hell was I thinking? Okay, gather yourself up boy.

Never mind idiot. Just make sure I get my t-4's and such over the next. Week. And if you hear anything, I WANT TO KNOW IMMEDIATELY. UNDERSTAND?

Understood, sir.

Sean left an hour later than usual that Monday. He was clearly shaken and decided to skip the castle on his way home. Flo had just moved out to live with her mother.

Don't you even want to know why Sean, she had said.

Of course he did not want to know why.

And since he had married rich, it should not cost him anything.

It was dark when he got home. Come on Sparkey, let's take a walk.

Arf. Arf. Sparkey, one of those smaller mutts that looks kind of like a lab came running in.

And Sean almost lost his lunch. Coming at him from the dark kitchen, Sean swore that Sparkey was sparkier than ever. I mean, he positively glowed.

Sparkey glowed blue in the dark.  Since it was too late to do anything about it, if in fact anything could be done at all, Sean took his blue pooch out for his normal walk. All Sean could hope for was that the neighbors did not notice the anomaly. Quickly he took the dog to the trail in the wood, safely out of view.

Jesus H. Christ. Even his poop glows in the dark. Yuck.

There's something happenin here and I sure the hell do not know what it is, thought Sean.

Sparky sensed something in the bushes and pulled like crazy on the leash, until his collar broke. The little bugger took off on a start into the bushes, into the dark forest.

Sean took after the pet immediately screaming the nick name that now best described the little canine.

The idiot tripped on a fallen twig. Well Goddamn it all anyway. Hell, I don't even have my flashlight.

Just then Sean saw eight hungry eyes glowing in the dark. Staring straight at him and following him as he stood to leave. That was enough of his walk.

He ran home faster than he had run in a decade. Panting he got into the home.  He ran to his little bar and fixed a three finger scotch and sat in the dark on his sofa. He still had not caught his breath and it seemed like seconds rather than fifteen minutes since the fall.

He grabbed the remote and put on a tune.

Take me now, baby, here as I am
Hold me close, and try and understand
Desire is hunger is the fire I breathe
Love is a banquet on which we feed

Come on now, try and understand
The way I feel when I'm in your hand
Take my hand, come under cover
They can't hurt you now can't hurt
you now, can't hurt you now

Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to lust
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to us [ x2 ]

Have I a doubt, baby when I'm alone
Love is a ring ,a telephone
Love is an angel, disguised as lust
Here in our bed 'til the morning comes

Come on now, try and understand
The way I feel, under your command
Take my hand, as the sun descends
They can't touch you now can't touch
you now, can't touch you now

Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to lust
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to us

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H14R4ZsMM0E

 

He began to relax, finishing his drink and sinking into the sofa. He happened to look down.

 

His pants cuff was glowing orange.

 


68 Comments

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OK, you got me hooked. Shrinking guys and glowing dogs, but where the hell is Sparky? Anal Sean just left him to the hungry eyes?

Dog may be man's best friend, but clearly Sean is not Sparky's best friend.

Waiting for the next installment with baited breath (which is a double entendre for a manatee) HA!

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Takes me two hours to find a damn clownfish and you are worried about a puppy?

We shall see what holds forth...and I donot get anywhere around here killing puppies. hahaaha

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Okay, assuming the puppy is fine, what about shrinking Frank? Would his sudden loss in height have anything to do with the fourth floor?

Hmmmm.....

One last thought: I think a blue glowing puppy sounds cool. Easy to spot them at night. God knows how many times I've tripped over Willie in the middle of the night because he's so damn dark. At least Wallace has the sense to have white legs, sheesh.

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Surely you jest.

Okay, I will not call you Shirley if you refrain from calling me Frank. hahahah

Do you think I have clowns in the attic?

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2 hours? What, are you hunting them on foot? Jesus man, use Google images!

Now. Why in the hell are you intending to kill puppies and ruin this here perfectly good story you got goin'? Each story you start up, the same thing happens, Dick. Things get goin' too good, a little too easy, you let the mask slip, and have to kill a puppy.

Last time I tell ya. NO DEAD DOGS. Or Obey will be pissed.

P.S. When do Sir Shiteface and the Flying Hedgehogs show up???!!!!!

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Last time I tell ya. NO DEAD DOGS. Or Obey will be pissed.

Obey will be pissed?

You, sir, are now dead to me (as the Sopranos would say).

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Nuthin' personal, Seashell. Just sayin' Obey's a bit... you know. Oversensitive. Unlike, calm, sensible Muttley's like yer own fine self.

But really, why the hell IS Dick killing puppies? Again?

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Poof. OK, you're alive again.

Notice how the perp is pleading NOT GUILTY?

Does he think we are stupid? I call for an immediate amendment to the Patriot Act to cover these heinous crimes!

And CT is still an ass ... hat.

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NOBODY IS DEAD YET.

NOT EVEN THE FRICKIN CLOWNFISH. HAHAHAAHAH

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Don't give it away, man!

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Demented tunes from the North Country for Northco - (2:50) Nothin's Dead Down Here, It's Just A Little Tired.

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Here we go again with the puppy thing, dd. While the story is riveting, I must object to the callous disregard for puppies that you continue to display in your narratives.

I'm in the process of writing a petition to stop with the dead puppy thing that will be sent to all interested persons and puppies. It will mention you specifically as a repeat offender. You have been warned!

:-)

(ps - it really is a nail-biter that you're writing!)

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GODDAMN IT ALL. I NEVER KILLED ANY PUPPIES!!! At least on purpose anyway.

This is fun. Only my close friends here pay my fiction any mind. Just make sure Seashell that the others are not told that everything I write is fiction. hahahhaaha

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It's all really ok, dick. No one is accusing you of killing the puppies. They just, um... died, right? Yeah, that's the ticket!

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Yeah, that's it. Puppies in Dick's stories always get lost in the woods fall in the pond get hit by a shovel bite a bumper eat lead run afoul of the Godfather swallow nuclear waste get turned into mulch by Ancient Puddock Lords or fall out of planes.

By accident.

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Could be worse. They could turn into Cujo and end up in a Pet Sematary....

Just sayin'.

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Ooooooh, what if Cujo had been in Pet Sematary? All we need now is an evil car junkyard nearby and an attendant who suddenly seems to be sneezing badly. From the woods a shuffling man who seems to be dressed as a creepy clown emerges.....

(hey, you started mixing the King stories! I'm just finishing it.)

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Finishing it???

Do you realize how many King novels there are out there??? I think even Stephen has lost track.

Let's ask the axe-wielding hubbie at the Overlook Hotel and Mr. Gray where they Stand on this....

...for starters. ;)

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The man in black fled across the desert and the gunslinger followed, carrying Milton Bradley's Gerald's Game in his pack. The girl who loved Tom Gordon also loved the gunslinger and secretly the man in black. Meanwhile another girl who could start fires with her mind ended up in a cross-country quest to save her mother from cancer and somehow save the world as well.

BTW, I already covered The Stand with the sneezing! ;)

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Okay, okay, you got me there.

Signed,

Lisey

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LOL, sorry if I'm a little overzealous with the King contest. I haven't read all of them, just a lot of them. I still look at the thickness of It (the clown one?) and say to myself "maybe some day when there's time." That book is a monster, in and of its own.

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I loved "It" when I was younger, and I love Tim Curry to this day....but somehow the strength of that novel got washed up with the made-for-TV version, and now....it just floats.

Heh.

But do read it. "It" is worth it.

;)

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BTW, ever try the Odd Thomas series by Koontz?

I like!

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Lis and Gasket - I had just started working for funeral homes when I read The Shining. That was a mistake.

The Clown one is good but The Stand is my favorite.

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Shellie, you've been sitting at the PC too long, reading Dickday and eating away at those cheezburgers. Because matyra is not Gasket, honey.

That being said.....ever read Koontz?

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Yikes, I can't imagine working with the dead while reading King. I bet sometimes you thought that you'd seen something move that of course hadn't. I recently read an unauthorized bio of him that described some of his fears. He puts them into his books just so well.

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I think I've only read one of them, long ago. I might try out one of the Odd Thomas ones if you think it's good.

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Start with the first one.....just as everyone should start with Dickday's first ones.

Note the plural...

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Huh--what?

Is it time to see who this DD person really is (like at the end of a Scooby Doo episode: "It was Old Man Winters!")?

Are you telling me to go to google?!?

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No! Dickon is Dickon.

At least, I think he is....

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lol, no worries. I ended up on a tangent and will stop there. The Mn area and it's giant sculptures just crack me up. There's one town with a Muskie fish the size of a bus. Each sharp tooth is kid sized.

(now we have a premise for the next King novel. Or maybe one of those gigantic Paul Bunyon statues. Scary.)

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I sense a novel in the making, just based on the loon...

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This is even funnier: http://www.roadsideamerica.com/story/2244

Why?

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Why? Well, you ARE talking about Wisconsin, dear.

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When I was taking art classes and trying to find how to draw something, my professor suggested I not try to reinvent the wheel but see how others have drawn things. So, as regards the puppy, feel free to say he went to the farm where he runs around all day playing with the barnyard animals and it in a happier place now.

Puh-LEEEEEZE!!!

{wipes tears from cheeks with sleeve}

{SNIFF!!!}

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A lot of "fiction" is autobiographical. We know that.

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hhahahaha. I LOVE CHILDREN AND SMALL ANIMALS.

HAHAAH

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Any feelings for or against cats?? How do you feel about their innate authority and their certainty that they rule the world and all the people in it?

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Sleepin, I have watched every one of these twenty or more times. Frankly I like my ruuuuhm on ice.

The new ones are not even close to the real art of these older movies.

Oh and my dog never bit anyone that did not have it comin'. ha

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Of course! After all, dead dogs never bite - not that I am accusing you of killing them or anything.

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Okay...everybody else worry about the pup. As for me, I'm keepin' an eye on the orange pants cuffs. My guess is, it's Cheetos dust.

That stuff really does glow in the dark, ya know.

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hahahahah. Flower. Flower understands

FORESHADOWING

Or Fiveshadowing. or whatever. ahaha

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I'm thinkin' this has something to do with those dead people Dick. I'm in. Good story. And don't let those critics put a crimp on your style of abandoning puppies, bioluminescent or otherwise, to the literary devices that beset them. It's your prerogative to explore your ideas as you see fit. Just stay clear of les porcs morts. They will scare you more than glowing eyes or Northco's law of diminishing returns, (vis a vis the fourth floor, not their financial statements).

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No piggies on file here. AT LEAST NOT YET

Thank you Miguel. I am getting a better response than I thought I would.

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I don't know. You realize just how valuable a bioluminescent puppy would be to some researchers?

Do you know what researchers do to bioliminescent puppies?

DD knows, don't you DD?

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I'm not too wild about bioluminescent puppies myself. I'm ex-military and such puppies would make good targets, something that would bother me if I were playing sneaky Pete at night with my own dogs. Now if the bad guys had them - well, I can see them being a mixed blessing.

And for Bioluminescent lapdogs - do they shed? I have this sweet little sheltie mix with redish fur who sheds enough fur to create a new dog every three months. I already have to use a lot of lint removers to wear black clothes. And that fur is not even luminescent. Come to think of it though, that might lower the electric bills. Shedding Bioluminescent fur through the house sure would mean no need to buy nightlights.

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Don't confuse such canines for something to be desired Richardxx. Bioluminescent puppies are just a harbinger of the red tide of radical leftist libruls that will follow, choking off the light and life of our financial markets unless we can free them from the constraints imposed by overzealous regulation. But that's a different story. ;)

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Nothing scarier than ending with a bluedog
or a chemiluminescent lovesong
even with fraakin midget clowns lurking.
People are pixilated at Northco and
if Mr. Sphincter’s sphincter’s shrinking too,
everyone might contract into tiny bioluminescent operons
without healthcare.
I’d hate to see that happen.

More please :~)

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You betcha Strato.

This poetry could be a prologue to my book. hahaha

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All yours Dick.
Write on!

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I'm just wondering what it sounds like when one sings "[x2]"...Keep it coming.

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Geeeeeez, this is great Acamus. I am glad you like this. I really am. Thank you.

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No, thank you.

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This is a lot of fun... and work!
Good job, DD!

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Thank you for the nice words icky.

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any story having puppies living in Fargo has to qualify as doing fiction with prejudice - glowing or otherwise

nice piece

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Thank you MJ. Love getting someone like you to read my fiction. A nice surprise.

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Fiction, my ass.

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Always a wild ride.

Always worth the price of admission.

More, please.

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Oh Gregor, all my friends show up. Start joking with each other after actually reading my drivel.

Just a fine day indeed!!!

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Mr. Day! Bravo, bravo!

You are truly an astonishing individual. Anyway, this is MORE GREAT STUFF!

Take it easy on yourself, though, okay?

Don't listen to people who say, "Sure I love it, but it should be much more frequent!" That's not remotely fair to you.

Oh, and as to the narrative? Frank and this marvelous company he works for, dontchu worry, they are going to share a glorious kumbayah moment and everything's gonna COME TOGETHER!

That Sean is a bit sketchy. *Got to be a joker he just do what he please!*

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HAHHA, hell I even get a Beatle's allusion. Thank you so much for these words of encouragement OT.

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You the man, DD!

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This is most excellent, Dick!

Now, of course, I'm of the pro-life persuasion when it comes to dogs, mostly, and I do not approve of this canine fatality fantasizing as shared by some others. But then I unlike the unrefined among your readership, I *get* the political subtext. Sparky is obviously one of those corporate shills posing as democrats - a blue dog in progressive clothing, as it were. And Sean is obviously just a cowardly Repub - a yellow red, as it were. And, for all I care, these types can go get lost in the woods...
;0)

Keep it coming!!

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I, too, am thinking blue dog democrat, Strato and Obey. However, before we throw this one to the wolves in the woods, maybe we should wait and see if this particular blue dog saw the light shone on important, if sometimes unpalatable topics by a certain neon veg and thereafter internalized his excellent insights -- hence the glow -- resulting in the best of both worlds, a creature with a warning bark but without hurt, or hurtful bite?

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