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Lake Winnipesaukee

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Rike’s body was adjusting to the descent.   His head pressed deep into the side of his helmet to the point where his nose folded against his opposite cheek.  A little tear of blood snaked down his nostril and across his face and settled into his ear canal. Had he been awake, Rike would have felt a maddening urge to rub violently at his ear.

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The Worst Hangover

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He was pretty hung over.

So bad that he was burping into a glass of water. He hadn’t noticed the waitress right away. She must have been new. It was wintertime. The morning after the Smart-TV Christmas Party.

Booger had secured the location for the station and he put together a very bad Christmas reel. The bureau chief cornered Booger at one point and asked what happened with the reel…why was it so lame? Booger was mortified and the only thing to do at that point was drink heavily. He ordered a shot of whiskey with a beer chaser and kept hitting the same number until the embarrassment gave way to stupor. He got home, smoked a bone, whacked off and went to sleep.

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Doug and Becky's Farmhouse

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“Try not to touch that one, honey.  That has the dead mouse in it.”

Becky immediately dropped the box she was toting out of the basement, simultaneously screaming.  Doug didn't even have to explain that he was teasing her; it always worked and she was always pissed at him.

“DOUG!”  she screeched.  “Stop doing that!”

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Inquisitor Kern

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Inquisitor Gregor Ezekyle Kern watched his two burly escorts drag the soulless heathen kicking and screaming from her disgusting hovel. Kern leafed through the Latin-inscribed book in his hands and stopped on the cleansing scripture, a simple verse all inquisitors use when cleansing the world of filth.

The two men forced the witch onto her knees in front of Kern. Tears streamed down her face. “Please. I’ve done nothing wrong. Mercy, sir. I beg you. Mercy.”

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French Prostitutes Collective

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‘Are these men paying you for sex?’  The nurse said.

I considered her question.

‘No.’ I eventually said.  I’d saved up all my Franks for a private health screening and I wasn’t about to blow it now.  I even had my best dress on.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have told her the exact number.

I’d counted the men, I was responsible.

She pursed her lips and carried on.

‘So, 16 in the last three months, and you see six of them on a casual basis?’

I nodded.

It looked bad.  But then it was... well it wasn’t bad.  It was what it was.

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From the Zone with Love

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“Look,” BannaLinda said, “I want only one.”

The R-Agent shook its head, emitting the characteristic faint clinking sound that agent-robots make in motion.

“Sorry,” it said.  “Not allowed.  I’d lose my job.”

“You don’t have a job, moron,” said BannaLinda, “you’re an idiotic machine with a lowest-bidder program. I’d kick you to molecules right now, but I’m wearing new shoes.”

The R-Agent calmly ignored both insult and threat.

“Your scheduled mating season begins in exactly 27 months.  Be advised that the usual incentives and penalties will apply.”

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Burning Point

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I expelled a scream as my friend Erin and I happened to be standing in my bedroom at the moment. “You can’t do this. I thought we were friends.”

She tugged at the sides of her blazer. “Watch me, Stephanie.”

My heart thumped inside my chest, getting louder with each passing second. “You don’t understand because there’s a lot that you don’t know. There’s no reason for you to do this.”

I rolled my eyes. “Like I give a fuck.”

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How to Brighten the Night

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There was a time, not so long ago, when the night was very dark.  There were no stars, planets, or moon to light the night sky.   Once the sun went down, people would stay inside unable to venture out; not because they were afraid of the dark; dark is not scary.  It was just hard to see, easy to trip and fall, or lose one’s way.  There were no streetlights, because there was no electricity. 

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Vince Domino, King of Smut

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As Tough Johnny Rolls (his words) remembers it:

It was the beginning of summer in 1954 when Vince Domino returned to the East New York. His thirteen year stretch at Sing Sing was over. No parole for Vince, he did the full tilt. He’s no rat, he kept his mouth shut.

What other choice did he have? Maybe like Kid Twist, the rat star witness who agreed to talk and took a ten story “fall” out of a window while being secretly “protected” by the cops at the Half Moon Hotel in Coney Island.

Forgetabout it!

They had Kid Twist, but they didn’t have Vince, they’d never have Vince for any Murder charge, but if they ever did, he still would not squeal. He would happily go to old sparky with honor and dignity. His mantra: “I don’t give nobody up.”

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Run, Cecily, Run

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I trekked deeper and deeper into the forest while the frigid air smacked me in the face, sneaking inside my lungs, as it almost drowned me.

The hairs on my back pricked up, making me whirl around for a second.

Nobody was there.

I shook my head again before shuffling through more of the forest and almost scoffed since it wasn’t like I could use magic to escape. That would attract unwanted attention, and there were already enough problems with the wanted posters of me that were propped up on all the trees in the forest in addition to everywhere else.

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