|| -------- -- -----  A E R I E   O B L I V I A N A . singular book of text wandertainment by Frank Edward Nora ------------------- ----------- GOODBYE POPCORN--CUP 37--"SWEET DRUNKEN GRIN" <-------  ||  Severe Repair  ||  Goodbye Popcorn  ||  -------> (Cup SRgp037, Created v2 (6/7/99), Copyright 1999) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = "Hey you!" Fake yelled at Kesh. "Prettyboy! Are you blind? Look at what's happening to little miss perfect over there." Kesh the Vector turned to look at Fake and then at Classic of Logic, who was getting up with some difficulty. "I may not have eyes, but I can see. I can see, Miss Cerquaine." Kesh said. "And I'm sure Classic has a reason for her behavior. Hey, Classic?" Classic was still trying to get up, and then she spilled the can of conductor voice peas she was holding all over the ground. She tittered and fell down again. "Oh crap--did you see that! She breaking everything I own!" Fake yelled, pointing. "Classic, are you quite all right?" Kesh asked. Classic looked up at Kesh with her hair mussed up all over her face and a sweet drunken grin. "I feel... I feel pretty good, actually, Kesh." Classic said, and then she rolled over several times, finally winding up on her back. She blurted out another bout of laughter and reached over into Fake's pile of stuff and got a huge tin clock, currently in its cigarette-pack-sized form. She scrunched up her face and balanced the clock on her lips and nose. Kesh strode over to Classic and knelt down, examining the pretty young girl. Looking over at Fake, Kesh asked "Was there some sort of poison or narcotic in your weaponry?" "Not that I really know of, but I don't even understand most of that stuff. Just get her away from it! She's losing her fucking composure!" "I tend to agree with you." Kesh said. "Now Classic, what is wrong? Why do you act in such a manner?" Classic looked up at Kesh. "I don't know but it feels grand. I've never been drunk, but this is how it must feel." Classic said, and then looking up at the sky, "What a feeling!" Kesh reached out with his black lines and engulfed Classic. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, dear, but for now let's just get you away from this stuff!" Kesh said, lifting Classic and moving her far from the pile of mortal supplies. "No Kesh! I like that stuff! I like that stuff!" Classic whined, whipping around like a rag doll, suspended in midair. "Never mind it, it's affecting your mind." Kesh said. "No! No." Classic said, and began crying a little. "Let me see those socks again, Kesh. Let me see it." "I've never seen you this way before, young lady. And I'll not be a party to such hazardous indulgence." Kesh didn't see it, but Classic still had a huge tin clock she had stuck under her shirt. With a "Ha ha! Whee!" she tossed the metal object skyward. "What?" Kesh said, watching as the clock lurched unnaturally upward, growing steadily larger, until after a few seconds it hung diagonally and swaying high up in the air. It cast a huge shadow on the party, and it seemed enormous. As it wobbled, it looked like it might drop on the group at any moment. It's pendulum swung madly back and forth as a silent cuckoo bird shot in and out of its door. "It's gonna fall!" Bith exclaimed, looking up in horror. -------> ------------------- ----------- -------- -- -----