Grading papers... :)

[grampster]

Well, sweetie, he said, my name is Steve, but you can call me sm...

[Nathaniel Firethorn]

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but whips and chains excite me," she purred. "But we need to do our business fast."

"I have my '48 Hudson in the parking lot..."

"I meant the information about Tactical Ted and the plans for the cold fusion bomb. Let me see the money first."

[grampster]

"Money?  Who said anything about money.  I thought this whole escapade was secretly connected to your willingness to gev Ted and I a hand in unloading some bogus 9mm ammo."  She curled up against his manly chest and rivetted her lustrous eyes on his  and said, "You do have beautiful strong hands, sm, my gringo dude."
 
Suddenly, with a horrific crash the entire front of the cantina shattered, scattering people and contents into a dusty maelstrom of chaos....

[Nathaniel Firethorn]

...and through the opening strode a hulking figure in BDUs and a black balaclava, holding an Armalite rifle and festooned with grenades, knives, shotgun and .50 rounds, and implements of destruction. He approached Gigi deliberately, the Armalite never deviating from her medulla oblongata.

"Combined Hoploidal Advance Mobile Operational Munitions Interdiction Logistical Enterprise," the figure growled.

Gigi cooly picked a lit cigarette from the wreckage covering the bar and blew smoke directly in the figure's face. "C.H.A.M.O.M.I.L.E. I knew it had to be you. What now?"

"First, the plans for the cold fusion bomb. Second, the whereabouts of Tactical Ted. Third, your phone number. And fourth," he growled, unclipping a Noritake from his duty belt, "a cup of Red Zinger, ONE sugar, NO milk."

[Brad Johnson]

"We're out of milk and the dog pee'd on the sugar." said Gigi.

[DrAmazon]

As Georgia sat down at the table, she reflected on the path that had taken her from the debutante balls in Atlanta to sitting in this diner in Guthrie TX.  The scholarship to Princeton, the strangulation on the date that went horribly wrong, the therapy that was supposed to help her recover from the attack and the self defense courses that actually did.  The surgeons had never been able to repair the damage to her vocal cords, but she found the deep, masculine voice to be more appropriate to the survivor that she now was.  

Her degrees (summa cum laude) in Foreign Policy and Chinese had attracted the interest of the CIA, but it was her good looks and deadly accuracy with a pistol  that got her reassigned to "The Unit".

[Nathaniel Firethorn]

Chapter the Third
--------------------

"MRRRRRRFFF GRRRRRRT TRRR FFFFFRRRRRD VVVVEEEEEVVVVVEEEEEE!!!"

"I'm sorry, Mister Tactical Ted, or whatever's the monicker you're using this week. You're about as intelligable as Alan Greenspan on Purple Owsley right now. But I can fix you right up. Would you like your bicuspids back?" Fred chomped his cigar and held out a plastic bag, which Ted had no way of accepting, as he was duct-taped to a saguaro cactus.

"WRRRRRR IFFFFFF VVVVVVVEEEEEEVVVVVVEEEEEE?"

"You say you want some green tea? No can do. All we have here is cactus juice, and in any case we're all out of milk and the dog peed on the sugar. But I can offer you some 9mm rounds that you might be able to use place of your molars. For a chomp or two, anyway -- careful about biting down on them primers."

"NRRRRRRR! VVVVVVEEEEE VVVVVEEEEEE!!!!"

"Oh, Gigi. The JBTs have her under control. We don't really need to discuss her right now.  Why don't you tell me all about Project Teotwawki instead?"



- NF

[Mabs2]

That was awesome.
hi5