THE RECOVERERS in: THE ADVENTURE OF THE UNREQUITED LOVER

THE RECOVERERS in: THE ADVENTURE OF THE UNREQUITED LOVER

Badboy Badger caressed his martial black coat with some satisfaction, as he surveyed the fauna gathered below him in the greenly grassed hillside. “My dear colleagues!” He boomed. “My fellow Recoverers! Word has come down from Headquarters about a new, most important, most thrilling mission, so I need critters three, to brave death with me! Be bold and be free: I need critters three!”

Rat and hare and bat and hen, goose and hedgehog shouted then:

“Me! Me! Me! I’ll Recover!”

But Lousey Mousey and Wacko Mole and Nobull Frog had already scampered and tunneled and hopped up the hill. Badboy Badger greeted the volunteers, and the rest of the Army of Recoverers knew to retreat back to warrens and burrows, to dens and to ponds. As they departed, Badboy Badger fare-welled them:

“You’ll be called upon too! Wait your turn. The sun waits its turn, and so does the moon; if your chance won’t come now, then it’s going to come soon. For the world always needs something Rescued, something Borrowed, or something Saved.”

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EAT ED.

EAT ED.

“Morning, class. Welcome to Culinary Education. Coach Wicker was supposed to go over this orientation, but the Bulldogs are getting ready for the Championship. How about them Bulldogs, huh? Anyway! Ok! I’m Coach Dobbett. Ok. I know the Fillmore High quilting club had a lot of yarns to spin about Ms. Grazinski and why she was let go but let’s put a lid on that bubbling cauldron, shall we?

“Heads butted over a budgetary matter. Simple. The ball of bull rolled down from the County and landed on your Culinary Education class… Ah, you kids don’t care. Anyway, Ms. Grazinski? Her little experiment with Eat Ed went kaplooey when she started planning some free-for-all end-of-semester potluck party. IN-appropriate! IN-and-OUT-appropriate!

“Oh, I know some of you were all googly about Ms. Grazinski. I never met her, but I know those pervy types. Did she swish around chirping: ‘Ooh, let’s give in to the joy of food! Yummy yummy nom nom! Oooh, let’s learn exotic dishes from other cultures! I’ll introduce you to obscure butter churning practices! Let’s SPICE things up with Panang curry! Have any of you tried tempura mint ice cream?! Isn’t being a foodie FUN?’

“Sure, sure. It can be. IF YOU’RE TWELVE AND LIKE TO PLAY WITH YOUR FOOD! Culinary Education is serious business. Ok, pass the permission slips to the front. This is going to get controversial. Weissenberg, we WILL get around to the whole Kosher thing, so keep your undies on. Oh, geez. Where to start.

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THE WRITER (Revised)

THE WRITER (Revised)

He was another writer.

At the age of six he was spinning yarns to an imaginary audience, (wondrous tales of hyper-cosmic rocket-ships commandeered by samurais, of cunning foxes ruling rabbit kingdoms, of clockwork hearts sitting square in the metal chests of sentimental robots.)

The writer’s mother said: “With a mind like that, he’s going to write books.”

The writer’s father said: “We’ll see, we’ll see.”

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