Jeremy has filled Michael in on the depths of poor Scully's loneliness. The boys have vowed to pay him more attention and Jeremy will stop trying to ditch him. But, when will Jer and Mic find the opportunities to advance their own newly discovered relationship? Well, let's give Scully a little credit and see if he can't provide some solutions. Next we hear from Scully's point of view ...
I am in the kitchen making an after school sandwich. I'll take it to my room while I do the little bit of homework we were assigned. At least that's one good thing about middle school, I don't get loaded down with homework like my brother Jeremy does. I figure Jeremy will go over to Michael's house, as usual, and I'll be alone until Mom gets home in an hour. In a way, I wish Mom didn't trust me and let me stay home alone after school ... it would be nice if Jeremy were here too. But, for a couple of months now, my brother has been trying to avoid me. I (rightly) figured it was because he had the hots for Michael and was trying to hide it. Silly dork, like he could hide anything from me. He actually thinks he has all his computer porn safely stashed in protected files so that I won't find it ... yeah right. That's how I figured out he was gay for crying out loud. I wish people would give me some credit. Shoot, there isn't anything in his computer that is a mystery to me. He spends so much time at Michael's that I have been able to search through it at my leisure. And some of the photos on those websites would curl the toenails on the Devil.
Lately, Jeremy's been thinking with his gonads instead of his head - like when he goes to bed after doing his porn search on the internet ... I can hear him moaning! My room is next to his and his voice carries through the air vents. Oh God, it's so funny. I hear this "ah ... ah ... ah" sound and then "nggg ... nggg ... Aahhhhh!" Once he even groaned out Michael's name for cripe peat! Yeah ... sure Jeremy, you hide your poofiness real well ... dork. Heck, I don't care that Jeremy has a thing for wieners! I just want him to be open with me and share everything like we used too. That's why I tricked him last night into admitting he has a thing for Michael. If he can trust me to keep this secret then maybe he won't keep trying to hide from me. I don't know though, maybe I really embarrassed him last night and now he'll truly try to avoid me. I hope not. I miss hanging out with him and Michael. Michael's so funny. He's the dumbest genius I ever met. But I really like him.
I'm in the process of sticking the peanut butter jar back in the cabinet when I hear the front door open. I wonder what Mom is doing off work so early? Then I hear ...
"Hey poop breath ... where you at?" Wow, if that's Mom, she has sure come up with a unique nickname for me. But of course I recognize the voice ... its poop breath's brother.
"I'm in the kitchen ... stink mouth" I holler.
He and Michael come sauntering in, tossing a couple of school books on the counter.
"What'cha eatin' ... you little larva" Michael asks with his Michaely grin.
"Well it sure as heck isn't a potato chip sandwich" I answer, smiling at Jeremy.
Jer gives me a "humph" and heads for the bread drawer.
"It's a good thing we're all peanut butter freaks" Jeremy says; "Although Mom is getting tired of watching her baloney get moldy."
"Well shoot Jer," Michael responds, "instead of putting chips on this one, throw on a slice of baloney. Couldn't be any weirder than what you normally do to a pb and j sandwich!"
"Ugh!" Jeremy and I respond together.
Then Jer thinks for a minute and says ...
"Actually, if you fried it first it might be pretty good with pb & j."
"Ugh!" Michael and I respond together.
"So what are you guys doing over here. You can't play 'hide from Scully' when you're in my full view you know."
"Actually Weasel" Michael says, walking over to me, "we were missing your smiling face and atrocious breath." Now he grabs me in a headlock and starts giving me head noogies.
"Well at least my breath doesn't smell like my ass Michael! And stop mussing my hair you fecal encrusted dork!"
"Ohhh" Michael says, "Scully said fecal! That must be dork-inese for 'shit' ... eh Jeremy?" and he uses his hand to really muss up my hair. Good thing I never bother to comb it anyways or I would be torked. Actually, I don't mind it really ... it's just Michael's way of being affectionate. If he were a straight boy he would be smacking girls in the arm to tell them he likes them ... or giving them noogies.
"Better watch it Michael" Jeremy says, spreading jam on his and Michael's sandwiches, "Skull might decide to set a monkey-trap for you."
"Oh yeah ... oh yeah ..." I respond, getting all excited, "what happened with Sammy today?"
Michael starts giggling while I climb onto a stool at the snack bar and start in on my milk and sandwich. Michael climbs on the stool next to me, smirking, and commences to give me the lowdown on their latest monkey-trap. Jeremy brings their food and drink over and climbs on the stool the other side of me. We are all eating and giggling and snorting as we visualize poor Sammy's predicament. I wait until both boys have a mouth full of sandwich and then I say ...
"A Ronald McDonald fright wig eh?"
"Splat ..." two mouthfuls of sandwich hit the counter simultaneously.
"Har har ... snort, snort ... hehehe ... cough cough cough."
"Gotcha ... dorks!" I laugh!
Michael grabs his little glob of sandwich off the counter and commences to rub it into my hair. Jeremy sees what he's doing and copies him. God ... all I need now are potato chips in my hair and I would look like Jeremy puke!
"YOU DICK HEADS" I'm yelling ... and laughing.
They have me on the kitchen floor now and I'm getting this crap rubbed into my face and ears as well.
"We may be dick heads" Michael laughs, "but at least we don't look like the inside of a candy bar."
Jeremy reaches up onto the counter and grabs his milk glass. Now he's dribbling it on my forehead while telling me ...
"Can't have pb & j without milk Skull!"
"Yeah," Michael quips, "GOT MILK Weasel ... snort, snort."
I give up and just lie there, laughing my butt off. The geek twins join in and, for some reason, I feel like some corner has been turned. The Jeremy I used to know seems to be back and I think this pleases Michael too. We are happy and comfortable in our little group ... no one happier than me because I'm not feeling excluded.
"Hey Michael," I ask, "do you know why Michael Jackson likes 28 year olds?"
His eyebrows arch and he says ...
"Michael doesn't like 28-year-olds, he likes little kids."
Then Jeremy, who I think has heard the joke before, plays the straight man for me ...
"No. Tell us Scully; why does Michael Jackson like 28-year-olds?"
And I grin and say "because there are 20 of them silly!"
Michael has to think for a minute and then he rolls his eyes and starts chortling. Smart he may be, but I don't think I want to take him to a comedy club ... I'd spend all my time explaining the jokes to him.
Jeremy has this contented smile on his face while he's watching Michael giggle. Boy, this kid has got it hard, I'm thinking. If it had been Michael getting the food rubbed onto him then Jeremy would probably be licking his face right now. I just grin and watch Jeremy watching Michael. Jeremy glances down at me and then blushes deep red. I just grin harder and smack him on the arm.
"Hey you guys" I say. "I need about an hour of alone time in my room to knock out some homework. You guys don't mind do you?" Which is a total lie, but I have a feeling the geek twins wouldn't mind a little alone time themselves.
"Not a bad idea Skull." Jeremy says to me with a grin wrapped around his face. (I think he knows what I'm trying to do. Shoot, I've never spent more than 15 minutes on homework in my life). "In fact, Michael and I have some work to do as well."
Then Michael says ...
"We do?" And Jeremy kicks him.
"Ahemm ..." Michael says, "Yes ... we do."
So I get off the floor and head for the bathroom ... to get de-sandwiched. Jeremy's standing and he reaches a hand down to Michael. Before I turn and head for the bathroom I see Jeremy pull his kissy buddy to his feet and they both have these kissy eyes for each other ... gimme a break ... snort, snort!
As I leave the bathroom and walk into my bedroom I can hear a copious amount of giggling coming from next door. What are they studying ... tickles and tittilation ... tonsils and testosterone? I feel like I've done my Boy Scout deed for the day. Besides, if I give them room for themselves, I figure they won't need to hide from me. Also, I think Michael's grateful that I didn't bring up that stuff between Jeremy and I last night. I'm pretty sure Jeremy told him; that's why they are here instead of at Michael's house. At any rate, I'm feeling good ... like I have my buds back again.
Michael stays for dinner and there is a lot of banter back and forth at the table. Mom, as usual, is up to the task of giving it right back to us. Michael ... the dummy, just has to tell Mom my Michael Jackson joke. Mom smiles behind her hand and tells Michael, while pointing at me ...
"Don't destroy my little one's MJ illusions. Scully is still practicing the Moon walk."
The three of us look at one another and burst out laughing, Mom joining in though clearly not seeing the humor.
"Who the heck do you think told me the joke" he says, punching me in the arm.
"Oh," Mom says, "my, how fast my chilluns grow up. It seems like yesterday that Scully was into knock-knock jokes."
Later, Michael and I are sitting on Jeremy's bed while Jeremy is going online with his computer. I look at Michael and wink then I say to Jeremy ...
"Why don't you show Michael and I some of your special porn sites Jer."
Boy, you could have cut the silence with a dull butter knife. Jeremy's shoulders kinda slumped down like he was trying to turn invisible. Michael just looked at me, his face all aglow, then hopped to his feet and practically jumped to his buddy's side.
"Yeah Jer," he says, "show us some of your special porn sites" and he bumps Jeremy with his elbow, sniggering.
Jeremy just turns around in his chair and stares at me, sort of slack-jawed.
"Skull ... don't tell me ... you've ..." and he was at a loss for any more words.
I nodded my head 'yes' while grinning like a cat that had just butt-fucked the dog!
"When are you going to learn, you two, that you aren't going to keep anything hidden from me?"
It was Michael's turn to glow like a red neon lamp. I looked at him and giggled.
"Ah, come on guys. I'm glad you're more than just friends. It makes me happy that you two are happy. Besides" and I grin a bit wickedly, "I can blackmail the heck out of you two now. You'll have to be my slaves," and I wiggle my eyebrows.
Mic and Jer just look at one another for a second and before I know it they have both pounced on top of the bed ... on top of me rather. I am getting noogies, and rib pokes, belly bubbles and every form of torture they can devise. I'm thrashing about the bed, trying to scream but am so breathless nothing comes out. Finally they tire of their sadistic games and we all lay there in a tangle of arms and legs, trying to get our breath back. I am on my back with a geek on both sides of me, each laying on an arm to keep me immobile. They look at one another again and, like an unspoken telepathic agreement, they both stretch down and give me a quick peck on my cheeks. Then Michael musses my hair and says ...
"Blackmail won't work for you Weasel, cuz Jer and I know you would never say anything to get us in trouble."
"Yeah ... buttwipe!" Jeremy responds with a smile and a pat on my stomach.
I don't answer, I just smile and nod in response. I suppose I am feeling a little emotional right now and I just don't trust myself to say anything. Guess I am afraid my voice will crack. Anyway, I think Michael senses that we are in some new territory here, some emotional quicksand so to speak, and he changes the subject. He looks over to Jeremy and says ...
"I think that just before we attacked the small retarded one you had been challenged to show us something on the internet."
Jeremy gets this wicked leer on his face and then looks down at me.
"Have you looked at all of them?" he asks.
I just wiggle my eyebrows in response.
"Good God Scully! You're only ten!" he responds, leaning up. "You'll have total brain rot by the time you're our age by looking at that stuff!"
I giggle and say ... "I would tell you I will only do it until I need glasses but, heck, I already wear them. So how about I only do it until I am blind in one eye?"
"Sounds good to me" Michael says, bounding off the bed and heading straight to the computer. He points to the chair and says ...
Jeremy walks over and I am right on his heels.
"Show him the last site you visited, Jer, with the boys giving each other hummers."
He looks at me and just shakes his head, wonderment in his gaze.
"Remind me to never get you pissed off at me Skull," he says, tapping on the keyboard. He pulls up some pictures that have Michael's eyes bugging out like they are fitted with telescopic lenses.
"Oh ... my ... God ... Jeremy!" And he's leaned in so close to the monitor there are likely to be nose prints later. You would suspect that the circus had come to town cuz there are three tents erected in the room in short order.
"So," I said, "give you any new ideas Michael?"
Michael glances over at me and blushes a deep vermillion. Then he glances at Jeremy and they give each other the devil's grin. I just giggle and say ...
"Well, you boys have fun. I think I'll wander downstairs and watch a bit of the boob tube with Mom."
There is no response from either of them as Jer is slowly scrolling down through the pictures. I think I could have told Michael his hair was on fire and I would still have been tuned out.
So I join Mom on the couch, figuring my geek twins are probably going to spin their romance up another notch into some uncharted waters ... snort, snort.
This pretty much becomes the routine for the rest of the week, until Friday, when Michael gets permission to stay overnight. I am not in as big a hurry to vacate Jer's room tonight cuz I figure they have all night to put into practice some of the things we uncover on the net. We went to a gay story site called Nifty.org and found some stuff under the young-friends section. Jer and Mic got all antsy and squirmy when we read a story about some English boys turning another boy into their slave and making him service them. It's called Timmy and the Travelers by David Clarke. We took turns reading chapters out loud and I could see the perspiration building up on Michael's forehead. When I had read aloud the last posted chapter I turned to Michael and asked...
"What do you think Mic, does the idea of having your bottom paddled turn you on?" I am rubbing my hands together to give him the idea that I am willing to accommodate him.
"Those are strokes for other folks but not for me ... thanks Scully. But if I ever need to have my ass whipped raw in order to get horny, I'll let you know. Just don't stay up too late waiting for the invitation though."
Jeremy and I just giggle and I noticed that Jer's eyes haven't strayed off Michael's crotch since I started talking to Michael.
It seems like a good time to excuse myself and let the lovebirds have a little sack time. Besides, I am anxious to hear what sort of sounds emerge from my air vents tonight. I'll probably hear Michael's name come up again numerous times ... all distorted and breathy ... giggle.
I'm not disappointed. At one point I have to stick my head back into Jeremy's doorway and warn them to quiet down unless they want Mom overhearing them. There is a bit of embarrassed silence then a couple of whispered "OK's". I'm chuckling as I climb back into bed and finally drift off to sleep.
The next thing I know is that my butt feels like it's on fire. I hear a 'whap' sound and another stinging sensation travels up my spine. I roll over.
"Michael, you retard, why are you whipping my ass?" I mumble, just partially awake.
"Gosh Weasel. Since you offered to whip mine last night I thought it was the least I could do for you this morning ... snort, snort."
I rub my poor little buttocks and tell him ...
"Like you Michael, I think I will leave those strokes for other folks."
"Your Mom sent me up to wake you. Breakfast is in 15 minutes and she wants you to shower your smarmy little body first."
"Kay" I say and rub the sleepers out of my eyes. The shower wakes me up and I make it down just as Mom is heaping some pancakes and sausage on a plate for me. The pigs already have their snouts in the trough and are busy inhaling their breakfasts.
"Morning Mom and thank you" I tell her.
"You're welcome sweety and I wanted to thank you this morning as well."
"What for Mom" as I spear a sausage link with my fork.
"Well, I was on my way up the stairs last night to quiet down these two" and she points to Michael and Jeremy "when you graciously beat me to it."
The pigs at the trough stop their rooting and snorting at this comment and I see the backs of their necks grow red. Then we hear a simultaneous "Sorry Mom" as they sheepishly look up at her. (Michael has called her "Mom" for years now.) Mom has an ear-to-ear grin so I suppose the homo boys aren't in any real trouble. But, knowing Mom, there is probably a wisecrack in store somewhere down the line. I'm not sure what these guys sounded like to her last night but that was pure sex noise coming out of my register.
Our Mom is a pretty progressive sort. She writes to the editor about gay rights and gay marriage and the duties of Christians to love everyone. That's all well and good when you are speaking about the rights of others to be gay, but how is a parent to feel if confronted by the possibility that her own child might be that way?
I am chewing and contemplating all of this when Jeremy pipes up ...
"Mom, the three of us are probably going to be spending the whole day over at Potter's Field. Is it OK if we build some sandwiches to take with us?"
Now Jeremy wouldn't normally ask such a thing. If we needed sandwiches we would just make some and tell her we were off for the day. But I guess he feels the need to make some small-talk here and shift the direction of conversation a bit. It makes me smile. Mom answers with ...
"Actually Jeremy, there is a bunch of leftover chicken from last Sunday that needs to be eaten. Some potato salad too. Why don't I pack you guys a regular picnic lunch. I'll throw in some veggies too because you three seem to subsist on cereal and peanut butter and jam."
"Swell" the three of us pipe up at the same time.
We three clean up the breakfast dishes while Mom puts a lunch together for us. Jeremy goes up to his room for his backpack. I grab mine as well and we throw some pop into it and a large beach towel to spread the feast on. Mom adds some paper plates and plastic utensils. Wow, lunch is gonna be terrific!
The three of us are a ways down the street when I tell Jeremy ...
"I didn't know we were going to Potter's Field today."
Michael adds ... "I didn't know either Jeremy, what's the deal?"
Jer replies that he just wanted to get out of the house after the comments about the noise in his room last night. Michael colors up pretty good after that was said. I just giggle.
"So tell us Skull - what did it sound like to you last night?"
"Har, har, har ... you don't want to know Jer ... har, har, har"
They both have a pretty red glow now and I comment on their nice Autumn tans. Two boys flip two birds at poor chuckling me.
It is a really nice day. It is only about 45 degrees right now but the weather should get up into the high 60s later on. Soon, their embarrassment left behind, Mic and Jer are just laughing and shooting the bull as we follow a trail along a small creek bed. It's so pretty here in the woods. The trees are starting to turn their Autumn colors. We decide to take a trail uphill that we have never explored before and presently find ourselves talking less as the climb progresses. Soon we find ourselves topping out over the hill and we stop to get our bearings. The hill drops down into a small valley that is new to us, to me at least. Jeremy points at it and says ...
"Hey, I'll bet this is the upper part of the meadow we were in last weekend Michael. We couldn't go any higher because of the rocks remember?"
"I think you're right Jer, and look to the right of that small meadow, is that steam I can see?"
We all look in the direction of Michael's pointing finger and, sure enough, there seems to be little tufts of steam rising in the cool morning air. We all look at each other, grinning like crazy.
"Wow" I say, "wouldn't it be cool if we have found a natural hot spring guys?"
They both look at me and nod. As many times as we have been through these woods we've never encountered one before. We've never heard anyone talk about a hot spring being in these woods either. That means if it really turns out to be one, it will be our own private spot. We do a three-way high-five and yell out "cool" as we trot down into the little meadow. We even surprise a couple of small doe as we start walking through it.
The steam is less visible now as the sun rises higher and warms things up. If we had gotten here ten minutes later we probably wouldn't have even noticed it. But we are able to walk over to some rocks abutting the hillside that has a small rivulet cascading down it, tufts of steam coming from it. A small stream meanders down the valley and this rivulet empties into it.
"And look" Michael excitedly points out "someone has hollowed out a pool in the stream right below the hot water."
Sure enough, even though time has tumbled many of the stones and sand has mostly filled it in, the outlines of a man-made pool is evident. The pool is good-sized too, about eight feet across.
I get down on one knee and stick my hand in the water.
"Oh my God" I yell excitedly, "this water has to be 90 degrees or hotter."
The other two have to stick their hands in of course and then it is another round of high-fives.
"Let's look around a bit more and, later, when the air is warmer, we can work on rebuilding the pool" I suggest.
That brings a couple of OK's and we wander down the stream a bit. We don't go very far, maybe fifty feet, when we come across an obvious picnic, camping spot. Someone has nailed together some 1×6's onto some small logs to build a pretty serviceable picnic table. It even has a couple of benches. There is a rock fire-pit near it with a metal grate covering half of it.
"Hey" Jeremy says, "we can use that piece of metal to dig the sand out of the pool."
We nod in response and I throw my pack up on the table. Jeremy follows suit with his pack. We continue down the stream a ways, but not very far. About 100 feet further our progress is stopped by some large boulders.
"I'll bet those are the rocks that stopped us from climbing up here last weekend Jer. And I'll bet the meadow you did your weeny wagging in is just right below us."
"Weeny wagging?" I exclaim. "Why Jer ... don't tell me you were doing a little Michael trolling were you ... snigger."
"Guilty as charged Skull!" He looks over at Mic and grins. "You can't go fishing without some bait you know!" We both look at Michael and snicker. We are just waiting for the inevitable red glow. But Michael shocks the crap out of us as he walks up to Jeremy, wraps his arms around him and gives Jeremy a long, open-mouthed kiss! I know my jaw is hanging at about ground level and poor Jeremy looks like he doesn't know if he should shit or go blind!
Michael steps back, looks at the two of us and says ...
"My, my ... isn't that a nice shade of red on the two of you boys ... har ... har ... har!"
Next thing you know it's a three-way tussle on the ground as Jer and I try to get back at Michael for his audacity to embarrass us. I'm sure if anyone can hear the giggles, snorts, guffaws and additional snorts they would assume that a band of wild boars are rooting near the stream bed.
I see Jeremy grab Michael's tee-shirt and start to tug it over his head, so I go for the guy's pants, get them unsnapped and start tugging. Oh, Michael struggles mightily, but we soon have our buddy buck-naked in the woods amidst a stream of vulgarities issuing from his mouth. We scoop up his clothes and run upstream, towards the pool. He follows a bit more sedately, gingerly placing his naked feet on the rocky and sandy places while trying to avoid the thorny weeds. By the time he reaches the pool Jer and I have already stripped and are wading into the water.
"You *#*%&* %$@#'s" he's yelling. Actually, the obscenities haven't slowed from the time I got his last sock off of him. Jer and I just giggle and wag our weenies at him. He looks at us a minute, starts giggling and finally is in a full-throated har, har, har.
He wades in and we all make our way to the little hot rivulet cascading down the rock into the upper edge of the pool. Michael puts a finger into it and quickly jerks it back out.
"Wow, that has to be like 110 or 120 degrees easy" he says. I'll bet we could use this pool in the dead of winter if the water doesn't dry up.
Jeremy, being the font of knowledge he usually is, says ...
"Well, the stream might dry up some but hot springs are pretty much a year round phenomena."
"Thank you Mr. Encyclopedia" Michael says smacking him in the back of the head. Soon they are rolling around in the pool, trying to drown one another amidst a bunch of whooping and hollering. I, on the other hand, am trying to get the rocks back up to rebuild the pool. It is only 8 or 9 inches deep and I am anxious to start hauling some sand out and see how deep it actually goes. I run back to the campsite to get that metal grate but come across a small stack of 1×6 lumber on the way. They are about two feet long and look to be the ends of the top boards from the picnic table. I grab three of them and struggle back to the pool with them. I toss them into the pool, splashing my panting cohorts and tell them ...
"Here ... start digging slave boys. That is if you want my help when Mom asks me about your homo ways!"
They both look at me then look at each other and shrug. I guess they feel that old Scully just might have them over a future barrel and he had best be placated. So we each grab a board and start scooping sand out of our pool.
It's pretty hard work and we are at it for a couple of hours. Finally our boards start rubbing against some rocks on the bottom. We decide not to go any further down because it is kind of nice to have a sandy bottom to skootch your bum into. By now we have it so that it comes up to my chin in places when we sit down. That means it comes up a little more that titty high on Michael and Jeremy. We just kind of float around and let the warmth ease our aching shoulder muscles.
After about a half an hour we all start feeling some hunger pangs and decide to go eat our lunch. Since we didn't bring but the one towel we decide to just let ourselves air dry and walk naked over to the picnic spot. That shows you how far our Michael has progressed in the last week. We don't have to build him a closet to hide in or anything ... snort, snort snort! And that is just the way we enjoy the feast that Mom made up for us. Three happy, naked boys sitting at our private picnic bench and enjoying each other's company - and a fine repast. Of course, two of them make a show of feeding each other and playing footsy under the table. Gimme a break ... I'm trying to digest my lunch here ... snicker.
Michael gets up and rubs his tummy, followed with a mighty belch. Then he informs the two of us that he is going to stretch out in the sun-warmed meadow next to the pool. Of course he wiggles his eyebrows at Jeremy when he says this. I get the hint and stay in the camp, tidying up, while the poofy boys wander back to the pool, hand in hand. I get the lunch stuff re-packed and then find myself a fist-sized rock that I use to hammer some lose nails back into the table. After that I get one of the 1×6 pieces and utilize it to dig ashes out of the fire-pit and haul them into the woods a ways. When I have done all the tidying up I can think of I wander in the direction of the pool. I find Michael and Jeremy both asleep. They look so cute. Michael is laying on his stomach with his arms tucked under his head. Jeremy is using Michael as a boy pillow and is half laying on him with his head snuggled into Michael's neck, one arm wrapped around him.
I start feeling those lonely pangs I was telling Jeremy about a few days ago. I see the two of them so comfortable together and it makes me long for someone to cuddle with myself. But I have to face facts; I don't think there are a lot of kids at my school that would want this geeky, bespectacled boy as a best friend. I decide that I am pretty lucky to have what I have. I lay down beside Jeremy with my head on his shoulders. Soon there are three sleeping, naked boys in the meadow.
I think Scully has resigned himself to being on the outside looking in. At least he feels fortunate to have Michael and Jeremy. But Scully doesn't appreciate his brother's tenacity. If there is a way to give Scully his heart's desire, Jeremy will find it. And I think we know that Michael will help in the brainstorming. So, next week, a new monkey-trap is set into play. Our geeky trio are on a quest of tremendous proportions, amidst much snorting and giggling. (Why are nerds so damn adenoidal?) Let's wish them well and God speed.
I am Paul at firstname.lastname@example.org Please send me your feedback. Your author is a whore for responses. And sometimes ... just a whore. There is a poem to go with the drawing. To see the poem, click here:
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