Butterfly Dreams (59)

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

They had died when helping thwart a plan to undermine the government of the United States. Now Ben and Susan have returned from the dead and they must bring that government down. Standing in their way are Michael Black and Michelle Gray, the bodies of whom they now occupy.

-(The Story begins HERE)-

Rosie's Revenge

My mind was straining to project thoughts to Rosie in attempt to plead with her. Next to me, I could sense that Michelle was also attempting the same thing. If she sensed either of our thoughts, Rosie offered no response.

Glancing at Baxter and O'Day, their blank stares only confirmed that they were being controlled. I momentarily wrestled with the idea of charging one of them and trying to seize one of the weapons. I dismissed the thought however, knowing that even if I succeeded, the other would probably have the drop on me.

Then there was a crawling feeling inside of my head. My mind was being probed. Someone was trying to pilfer my thoughts. I slammed my eyelids shut and tried to force the intrusive mind from my head. Inexplicably I felt a surge of neural energy that seemed to spring from deep within my psyche and the invading thoughts were cast away.

Next to me, before I had a chance to ponder the occurrence, Michelle stumbled but was able to regain her balance. Grabbing my arm she leaned against me and whispered, "What just happened?"

It was apparent to me that she'd also experienced the same intrusion and ouster of the alien mind. "I don't know," was my barely perceptible reply.

"Break it up, you two!" Gates barked. His eyes met mine and he said, "I guess I'm going to have to separate you and the missus, eh?"

With Baxter steering Michelle to the far end of the array of consoles, O'Day guided me to the seat in front of the nearest one and waved his pistol for me to sit. When I hesitated he touched the pistol against my shoulder and shoved me into the chair with his free hand.

"Brock? Why are you doing this?" I pleaded hoping to break the trance to which he'd been subjected. If he heard my words at all, he ignored them.

"People," Gates shouted, "I need all of you conscious and there is no need for anyone to get hurt. I want you to pick up those headsets now ... and put them on ..."

As I slipped the device onto my head I thought of Rosie's thoughts to Michelle and me that we would be unaffected. It was her fate however, that troubled me. Why was she so adamant that her sacrifice was necessary? I turned my head to my left trying to locate her in the room. Staring at the wall before her, she too had donned one of the neural headsets.

Rosie had positioned herself at the console next to Michelle. Although she showed no signs of interaction with her, I couldn't help but wonder if her choice of seats might have been by design. I looked up as Jordan slid into the seat next to me. Perhaps his positioning was by design also?

I felt his presence behind me. Addams/Gates placed his hands on the back of my chair and chortled, "Relax, Mr. Black. No one can help you now. In a couple of minutes you won't remember our differences. Why, I will even go so far as to predict that you will become one of my biggest supporters."

"But, Julius," Jordan quipped, "it will not be of his own free will."

"Ah, Bishop, my one time associate-turned enemy has decided to honor me by addressing me directly." He eyed the old man with disdain and snorted, "You of all people know what power I have at hand. Free will? Shortly my will shall be the only one that matters."

"You've gone stark raving mad!" Faye screeched.

He stepped in her direction and grinned. "Step-daughter, it was always you who demanded and received special attention. Everything was handed to you. The more you were given, the more you wanted. Your sister on the other hand, always worked her fingers to the bone for everything she wanted." He paused, placed his fists on his hips and continued, "Well today that will all change. It's her turn to want for nothing."

"Father," Rosie said in an almost mechanical tone, "let us proceed."

Addams/Gates was visibly chagrined to have his ramblings interrupted but was quick to gather his composure. He crossed the room and stood before a vacant console. After donning a headset he moved in front of a master control panel and allowed his finger to hover near a large toggle switch.

He glanced at the row of consoles and the individuals seated before them. "For me, this is victory. For you, Rosie, it is revenge."

Without hesitating another moment he flipped the switch. In a trice the room was filled with agonizing guttural screams as the insides of our heads were ignited with searing pain. Then everything went black.

To be continued

Dreams On Wings

№ 2133

Smokers Synonymous

I don't want to become one of those obnoxious ex-smokers! You know the ones I mean - the ones who have taken up a cross and have set out on a crusade to make life miserable for those who still smoke.

No, I won't be one of those who pontificate against that nasty addiction. But having just recently begun the process of giving up smoking, I will maintain a measure of advocacy for the rights of smokers. Besides, I'm not that far removed from lighting up myself. I can only claim to be an ex-smoker for six days and that hardly qualifies me as one who has successfully kicked the habit.

The last three weeks have seen a decline in my output and my attention to this blog. On the 24th of last month I was given new prescriptions for my blood pressure, iron count and water retention. Then on the 5th of this month, last Sunday, I applied the first Nicoderm patch onto my arm. Thankfully, the patch, so far, has proven effective.

I have been noticing brief periods of light-headedness and difficulty concentrating. Although I've had some post ideas, it seems that every time I sit down at the keyboard I go blank or lose my desire to type the thoughts to the blog.

I can only assume that the combination of new meds might be responsible of the light-headedness. Perhaps the lack of concentration is a side effect of the patch? Perhaps it's all in my head ...

... I mean, I had never posted to my blog without a lit cigarette close at hand. I keep thinking I should take a drag ... BUT ... I'm not actually craving a cigarette - at least not consciously. They say the urge never goes away ...

To those who have been reading and following my story, Butterfly Dreams, I am working on it ... really! It's ironic, but there are only about TWO installments left until its conclusion. I have to keep backtracking to previous chapters to make sure I'm tying up any loose ends.

Next Wednesday I have an appointment - more blood work - and will inquire about light head and lack of concentration. The following Tuesday there will be a follow-up appointment to assess the results of the blood work. (Hopefully the iron count will have improved, the blood pressure will have come down and the water retention will have been brought under control.)

Why Not Post Some Smoking Humor?
I had been a heavy smoker since I was a teenager, but to my surprise was able to quit "cold turkey." However, my weight shot up and I felt very self-conscious. When a friend congratulated me on giving up cigarettes, I exclaimed, "But look at all these added pounds!"

Her reply was one I'll always treasure. "Oh, my dear, don't worry about that!" she said. "Just think of all the extra years you will have in which to lose them."


A young couple had been married for a couple of weeks, and the man was always after his wife to quit smoking.

One afternoon, she lit up after some lovemaking, and he said, "You really ought to quit."

She, getting tired of his nagging, said, "I really enjoy a good cigarette after sex."

He replied, "But they stunt your growth."

She asked if he ever smoked, and he replied that he never had.

Smiling and lifting her gaze to his groin, she said, "So, what's your excuse?"

A tobacco company had heard that the oldest citizen of a certain

village had been smoking their product for over fifty years. They

dispatched a public-relations man to the village to interview him.

“Sir,” the P.R. man said, “we are prepared to fly you to California

to appear on an early morning television show to give a testimonial

about our tobacco company.”

“Can’t do it!” replied the seasoned smoker.

“You can’t do it?” asked the P.R. man. “Don’t you want a free plane

ticket to California?”

“Yep, I’d like to go to California, but I can’t do it.”

“Well, Sir,” said the P.R. man, “we’re prepared to put you up in one

of the nicest hotels in Los Angeles for at least three nights. Wouldn’t

that be wonderful?”

“Yep, it would be wonderful, but I can’t do it!”

“Why can’t you do it?” screamed the P.R. man.

“Well, young fellow,” he said, “I can’t fly to California and appear

on that morning television show to give a testimonial about your tobacco

because I don’t stop coughing until noon!”

Three little boys were sitting on a porch. One says, "My daddy smokes and he can blow smoke rings."
~~The second boy pipes up, "Well my daddy smokes too, and he can blow smoke out of his eyes."
~~The third one, not to be outdone, responds, "My dad can blow smoke out of his butt!"
~~"Really?" said his friends amazed. "Have you seen him do it?"
~~The boy shook his head and answered, "No, but I've seen the tobacco stains on his underwear."

№ 2132

Monkey Off My Back

Sunday 6/5/11:

At the time of this posting, it has been 12 hours since my last cigarette !

Now, I realize that when it comes to kicking such an addictive and nasty habit, 12 hours is nothing in the scheme of things. (After all, I've been smoking since March of 1968 - that's 43 years and two months!)

I'd like to say that I'm undergoing this endeavor cold turkey ... but no, I've been sporting "The Patch" since 11 this morning. I smoked, hopefully, my last cigarette at 10:30 with my second cup of coffee.

Dousing that cigarette, I considered the two ashtrays, the one on the end table next to my recliner and the other next to the keyboard of my PC, and promptly removed them from my sight.

I anticipate that there will be some anguished moments - withdrawal symptoms - but so far there have been none. I've heard stories where others began to eat more frequently for the sake of having something to put into their mouths. (Thankfully, there is plenty of cutup cantaloupe and watermelon in the fridge!)

Not trusting my resolve or willpower, I DID leave one lone cigarette in the pack. I decided to test that resolve - I'm looking at that pack now - by leaving it within easy reach of the keyboard.

If that cigarette, so accessible, calls me and I am able to ignore it, then today's actions won't have been vain. If on the other hand I succumb to its beckoning, then I'll know just how hard it will be to continue.

I think the biggest test will present itself tomorrow at 11 AM. They say the first 24 hours are the most difficult. So far the first 12 have been pretty easy ...

Wish me luck!

№ 2131

Remember: Never Forget

These Editorial Cartoonists Can Say It Much better Than I

(The following editorial cartoons were taken from Caigle Cartoon Index)

№ 2130

Butterfly Dreams (58)

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

They had died when helping thwart a plan to undermine the government of the United States. Now Ben and Susan have returned from the dead and they must bring that government down. Standing in their way are Michael Black and Michelle Gray, the bodies of whom they now occupy.

-(The Story begins HERE)-

The Enemy Within

"Immortal? You can't be serious!" O'Day yelped.

King's solemn glare was a declaration that he was indeed serious. He spoke with icy deliberation, "You should realize that Gates, as President, has at his immediate disposal highly placed individuals whom he can easily manipulate to do his bidding. These include the Vice President, a handful of senators, high-ranking military leaders, and the heads of several agencies."

"All of whom are past recipients of the neural implants," I added bitterly.

"Correct." he responded. He cleared his throat and paused to study those of us in the room. "Let me hypothesize for a moment. Suppose that in next November's primary Addams feels that he will not win the nomination ..."

"Good grief," O'Day resounded, "he would be able to influence the party to select someone he has in his back pocket."

I shook my head at the police sergeant and uttered, "I'm afraid you're missing the bigger picture, Brock. He will ..."

Rosie stepped forth interrupting me, "Regardless of the nominee ... regardless of Presidential election results ... he will only have to transfer his mind into that person. Unless we are able to stop him, he is in a position to become a perpetual President of the United States."

"Jesus!" O'Day yelped. "When he shows up, why don't I just shoot the bastard?"

"Do you really want to go down in history as the man who assassinated the President?" Baxter reasoned aloud.

"No. No I don't," O'Day replied. He looked into his wife's eyes, "Faye, I don't really want to shoot your step-father either."

"I know," she nodded, "but as far as I'm concerned ... he's dead anyway."

Rosie arose from her chair next to Faye and walked into the center of the room. She raised her hands to her temples and whispered, "They're here now. They are on the street in front of the building."

Both Michelle and I stared wide-eyed as Rosie's thoughts penetrated our own. "Julius, David, there is a door in the back of the convenience store ..."

"Rosie?" I muttered. "You're leading them right to us?"

She seemed to ignore my words and turned to both Baxter and O'Day. Without speaking she bowed her head. The two men, their eyes appearing glazed, stepped forth and produced pistols from their pockets. Falling in on either side of her they leveled the weapons menacingly at the rest of us.

"Rosie?" Stu Jankowski sputtered. "You? You're the enemy within?"

"Enough chatter," Baxter shouted. "All of you into the next room."

At that same moment the door to the stairway swung open to reveal David and President Addams. From his swagger it was obvious that Gates was in complete charge of Addams' mind and body. David's eyes were as glazed as those of O'Day and Baxter.

Addams/Gates was grinning from ear to ear and gave a victorious thumbs-up gesture to Rosie. "I gotta hand it to you, it worked. Getting them all together in one place ... here ... was a stroke of brilliance!"

Her response was just a weak grin and she seemed to tremble when she spoke, "We must get to work. I'm growing weak. I can't hold them much longer."

"You heard her, people," Baxter snapped. "Into the next room ... now!"

"Jeremy ... Brock," I pleaded, "you can't let this happen. We've got to stop them."

The barrel of O'Day's pistol grazed the side of my head. He kept the gun elevated near my face and sneered, "Wake up and smell the coffee, Michael. It's over and you've lost!"

One by one we were marched into the next room. I gasped as I looked upon a row of consoles like those that had lined the inner bulkhead of the destroyed aircraft. At each one of the consoles lie the neural headsets.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Gates barked, "have a seat at the stations and kindly place those headsets upon your pretty little heads."

To be continued ...

Rosie's Revenge

№ 2129

Cletis Clyde's Mem-wires

Howdee, folks. Cletis Clyde here.

I was a-thinkin' that someday I jest might try to write down some of my mem-wires. So whilst I was a-thinkin', I got to wonderin' what rememberances I would want to jot down in a book. I reckon I should start wiffin my days when I was little.

When I was a youngin' I used to walk into class at school every morning with a black eye. After a while my teacher got worried and asked me about it.

"Cletis, why do you come to school every day with a black eye? Are you getting into fights?"

I answered, "Our house is very small, miss. Me, my mother and my father, we sleep on the same bed. Every night my father asks, 'Cletis you sleeping?'

"When I said, "No" he slapped my face and gave me a black eye."

So the teacher says to me, "Tonight when your father asks again, keep dead quiet and don't answer".

The following morning when I came to school my eye was fine, so the teacher breathed a sigh of relief.

But the day after that I came back with two black eyes.

Alarmed the teacher asked, "My goodness Cletis, why the black eye again?"

I told her, "Mam, Dad asked me again, 'Cletis are you sleeping?'...and I shut up and kept dead still. Then my father and my mother started moaning (you know) at the same time. Mom was breathing heavy, and kicking her legs up and squealing like a hyena on the bed.

Then my father asked my mother, 'Are you coming?' Then my mom said, 'Yes I'm coming, are you coming too?' My dad answered 'Yes'.

They don't usually go anywhere without me so I said, 'Wait for me...'"

Then they is the time that I looked into a mirror for the very firs' time. You see' it was like this, my uncle was always a-sayin' that my paw an' maw was jest about the ugliest couple in the hills. I guess my paw believed him and 'cause of that he said we could never have any mirrors in our house.

After living way back in the remote hills of West Virginia all my life, I decided it was time to visit the big city. In one of the stores I picked up a mirror, and not knowing what it was I looked in it.

Not ever having seen one before, I was surprised at the image staring back at me. I said, "How about that! Here's a picture of my Paw."

So I done bought the mirror thinking it was a picture of the old man, but on the way home I remembered that my wife didn't like my father a'tall. So I hung it up in the barn so's she wouldn't see it.

Afterwards, every morning before I would wander there and look at it. Then I'd go in there in the afternoon and then again a-fore suppertime.

My wife began to get suspicious 'bout all my many trips to the barn. One day she followed me out to the barn and found me lookin' in the mirror.

She shoved me aside and when she looked into the mirror, she screamed, "So that's the ugly bitch you's been runnin' around with."

I 'spose I could put down a few lines about when I was a-datin' a-fore I got hitched. What book of mem-wires don't have stuff 'bout courtin' and a-sparkin'?

A while back, when I was considerably younger, I picked up this purty gal at her parents' house down the holler a bit from where I lived.

I really fancied her and wanted to impress her. I'd scraped together some money to take her to a nice fancy restaurant.

Hell's bells iffin she didn't up and order the most expensive items on the menu. She musta thought I was made of money cause she got some champagne, shrimp cocktail, and lobster.

I asked her, "Does your maw feed you like this when you eat at home?"

"No," she replied. "but my mother's not expecting me to get on my knees in front of her fly either."

What can I say? I asked her if she wanted dessert.

I remember the time that I learned that a feller can meet some gals by a-ridin' on a bus.

I was on a bus one day, when this purty young woman sat opposite me. Tarnation iffin she didn't start to breast feed her baby right there in the seat next to me!

"Come on, eat up, or I'll give it to that man over there," she says to the baby.

I don't have to tell you that sure got my 'tenshun.

Ten minutes later, she is still trying to feed the baby and says, "Come on, or mummy will give it to that man over there."

Well I looked over to the woman and says, "For heaven's sake missus, will you make your mind up. I should've got off this bus 3 stops ago!"

I think I would like fer my mem-wires to show that I'm really quite a romantic feller.

One night after a long days barbeque, I was a-sitting with my wife on the back porch. I was jest relaxin' wiffin' a cold Carlings in hand.

I felt that life didn't get no better than that and so I said, “I love you.”

My wife piped up, “Is that you, or the beer talking?”

I answered, “It’s me ... talking to the beer.”

№ 2128

Butterfly Dreams (57)

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

They had died when helping thwart a plan to undermine the government of the United States. Now Ben and Susan have returned from the dead and they must bring that government down. Standing in their way are Michael Black and Michelle Gray, the bodies of whom they now occupy.

-(The Story begins HERE)-

An Immortal President

Michelle appeared dazed but it was evident to me that she was lost deep in thought. She was trying to digest one more missing piece of a life she'd never known, of a life she could have never known.

Our minds embraced for the briefest of moments. I sensed an assurance in her thoughts that she understood that it was not the time to dwell on the revelations of the past.

"David ... of course," Michelle whispered. "He's been right there, under our noses all along. He was working for Gates at the New Hampshire facility when he helped us ..."

"...Then he went to work for us," I added. I turned to face Jordan but deliberately addressed the Bishop King persona, "He's been working for you, hasn't he?"

There was a subtle nod of his head in acknowledgement. "I suppose you could think of David as a double agent of sorts. He has been able to slip seamlessly between both operations, ours as well as those of Gates."

"Well, since he now has him as a hostage," barked O'Day, "Gates must realize where David's loyalties lie. Don't forget, David tried to sabotage his operations back at the airfield."

"David is the least of our concerns," Rosie interjected.

"Yes," King grimaced, "there is another whose loyalties will be called into question."

I cast a wary eye in the direction of Faye. Her allegiance to Gates, her step-father, had not been a secret to anyone present. Yet, her activities of late had been puzzling on several occasions. It was possible that she might be playing both ends from the middle. One thing was certain however, Faye had been looking out for her own interests.

She sat unmoving for a few moments staring at her hands which were folded in her lap. Aware that everyone was watching her she shook her head and muttered, "I don't like what he's doing. It's wrong! I'm not going to help him." She then looked up and implored, "You have to believe me!"

Rosie slipped her arm about her shoulders and declared, "Faye, my dear sister, I know that it is not you. No, there is another. There is one who stands to gain much should we fail."

"That person," King announced, "if successful, will insure that Julius Gates will remain in power. In effect, he will become an immortal President!"

To be continued

The Enemy Within

№ 2127

Smashing Rube Goldberg

I can't say much positive about the group or the music ...

But I LOVE the creative Rube Goldberg machinizations!



№ 2126

Mikey-Leaks

IMPORTANT NOTICE: All mini-marts, convenience stores, 7-11s, & many motels will be closed this week, due to a death in the family. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause !!!!!!!

The above image is a screen shot that I couldn't make clear. Anyway - it is Osama bin Laden's last Facebook entry:

"BRB. Someone's at the door."
And the "LIKE" was clicked by: the Navy Seals

Who Really Got bin Laden.

How Did They really Find Him?

Multiple Choice
(a) Jehova's Witnesses revealed location when he refused to buy a Bible

(b) Whereabouts reported when he wouldn't pay for Girl Scout cookies

(c) Reported by followers because he refused to bathe (U.S. fixed this.)

(d) Turned in by his landlord because he was arrears in his rent


Boeing Letter to Osama

№ 2125

Editorial Toon Tribute To bin Laden's Demise

I'll close with a couple of jokes and a funny pic.

Fifty-one years ago, Herman James, a North Carolina mountain man, was drafted by the Army.

On his first day in basic training, the Army issued him a comb. That afternoon the Army barber sheared off all his hair.

On his second day, the Army issued Herman a toothbrush. That afternoon the Army dentist yanked seven of his teeth.

On the third day, the Army issued him a jock strap. The Army has been looking for Herman for 51 years.

*******************************************

Mother Superior called all the nuns together and said to them, "I must tell you all something. We have a case of gonorrhea in the convent."

"Thank God," said an elderly nun at the back. "I'm so tired of Chardonnay."

№ 2124

Butterfly Dreams (56)

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

They had died when helping thwart a plan to undermine the government of the United States. Now Ben and Susan have returned from the dead and they must bring that government down. Standing in their way are Michael Black and Michelle Gray, the bodies of whom they now occupy.

-(The Story begins HERE)-

You Can't Choose Your Relations

Through all that had taken place over the past year, Michelle had been strong. At that moment, however, the defensive walls she'd built around her emotions began to crumble. Rosie had struck a raw nerve.

I could empathize with her, having had the same reaction when I'd learned that Jeremy Baxter was my twin brother. Even though the minds of Ben Bering and Susan Parsons had been respectively transferred into the bodies of Michael and Michelle, there had remained trace memories of them within our brains. While the minds of Ben and Susan and their memories dominated us, there were fragmented memories of the real Michael and Michelle within us. Michelle would have to learn to cope, as I had, with a past she'd never known to exist.

The professor waited for his declaration to be absorbed by Michelle before speaking, "Neither Michelle nor her sister Vanessa Manning ever knew of the existence of a sister. They were raised in separate homes, thousands of miles apart."

"Vanessa Manning?" Michelle uttered. "Why does that name sound familiar?"

It was Faye who spoke up with the answer, "The First Lady ... Vanessa Addams! Her maiden name was Manning!"

"What? But she doesn't resemble me ... she doesn't even look like Michelle Gray," Michelle countered trying to maintain her persona as Susan.

"Manning? In Nam, there was a First Lieutenant Manning," Brock O'Day mused, "... Thomas Manning, I think. He was killed in the same incident when Jimmy was wounded when we were trying to get out of the country. Any connection?"

Jordan nodded, "He was Vanessa's and Michelle's father."

"Whoa!" Michelle interjected. "That can't be right. That would put the First Lady and me ... Michelle in our mid-forties. I ... she's only twenty-five!"

When Jordan gnashed his teeth and raised his hands to his temples it was evident that he was evoking the mind of Bishop King. "It would be apropos for me to say that you can't choose your relations. I'm afraid it was my suggestion that several of Gates' officers should make deposits at a certain bank."

Baxter nodded, "That bank of course was a sperm bank!"

"Yes, Jeremy." King acknowledged. "As we all know now, I foresaw even then that since our involvement in Vietnam was not a declared war, there would be future problems for those veterans, living and dead, to receive their proper benefits. Things have improved over the years, but there are still those who are denied not only benefits but recognition for their service to their country. Alas, it is the families of those who fell over there who still suffer from the neglect."

"For all of his insatiable hunger for power," began Stu Jankowski, "Julius Gates did try to look after the welfare of those who served under him. He and Mr. King approached me about covering a story of a widow receiving the sperm of her deceased husband."

"She gave birth to twins, but they were not identical," said King picking up the story and glancing at Michelle. "Financially as a widowed single mother, she didn't think that she could raise both children. It was easy enough to convince her to give the child up for adoption."

Michelle grimaced but was waiting with baited breath for the rest of the story. "So she ended up in the home of a family named Gray ..."

King smiled, "Randall Quigley Gray, or R.Q. as we called him, was the man responsible for virtually all of the programming behind the mind research. He and his assistant ... Jimmy ... " He paused and glanced at Brock O'Day, "... together they developed the neural nano-implants."

"Where is this Mr. Gray? How come we've never heard his name before now?" I asked.

"Yes," Michelle asserted, "where is my ... Michelle's ... step-father?"

"I'm afraid," King swallowed, "that R.Q. is no longer with us. He was a victim of Julius Gates' treachery several years ago. There were other victims too ..."

"He's been eliminating anyone and everyone with knowledge of the mind research," I mused aloud. "Once he's powered up this current program and linked to the satellites ... then all of us here ... are expendable."

Brock O'Day growled, "Then Jimmy's death was not a case of him being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Jimmy was the target and the ransacking of Ben's apartment was just a cover?"

"It's true that Jimmy was a target, but they were looking for the discs and tapes of the experiments in Ben's apartment too," King responded. He eyed Brock for a moment, "Sergeant O'Day, I know Jimmy was your close friend, but what did you know of his family?"

"Family?" O'Day said quizzically. "As far as I know, his parents were dead. He always said that his army buddies were his only family."

"He lived across the hall from my ... Ben's apartment," I offered. "We spoke often, but he never mentioned having any family."

"Jimmy understood how ruthless Gates was. He met with me and Professor Jordan to express his fears that Gates suspected that he might be playing both ends from the middle. When he heard that R.Q. Gray had died in a mysterious accident, he was worried not only about his own welfare but that of his younger brother."

"Brother?" O'Day barked. "Jimmy had a kid brother? Who ...?"

King didn't answer the question directly but continued with his narrative, "Jimmy agreed to have his mind tapped to have knowledge of his brother to be erased from his mind. Before that was done, he arranged for his brother to be transplanted with memories of another life. The brother then moved in with the Gray family as their adopted son."

Michelle gasped, "Then he would have been Michelle's step-brother?"

"Damn!" I muttered. "When you said we can't pick our relations, you weren't kidding. But you people have had no problem picking our relations for us!"

"Mr. King ... Professor Jordan, whoever you are at the moment," Michelle cried, "who is Jimmy's brother ... Michelle's step brother?"

King looked at me and said, "Michael, I can tell by the gleam in your eye that you know who he is."

I nodded, "Yes. It can only be ... David!"

To be continued ...

An Immortal President

№ 2123

Trump's Trump a Triumph?

Why now? Why wait so long to produce it?

Is he afraid of Donald trump? Does he honestly think that Trump poses a reelection threat? I seriously hope not.

One thing IS certain. The so-called birthers will not be satisfied. Had this document been produced before he won the Democratic nomination, the question of his birthright would have never become an issue in the first place. Throw in his initial reluctance to wear the American flag pin on his lapel and the numerous times he has shown ill-advised over-the-top respect for the Muslim people, is it any wonder that his patriotism would be called into question?

In his recent address to the press he referred to the matter as silliness. Excuse me, but he brought it on himself by not producing the document when his place of birth was challenged. Is he so arrogant and/or stubborn that he felt he was above it all? "I'm the President, how dare anyone question me?"

Paraphrasing, he also said that he had more important things to do. Then why in the hell isn't he doing those things?

I just had an epiphany! He purposely has been letting the cloud of doubt about his birthright hover over the heads of the American people as a distraction from the fact that his performance thus far as President has been for the most part inept.

Why produce the birth certificate now? It makes sense when you think about it. Time is growing short before it will be time for him to hit the campaign trail for the 2012 elections. By finally producing the certificate, he is hoping its specter will have dissipated by the time the people place their votes.

How Do Editorial Cartoonists See It?

How Does One "Birther" See It?

I had to laughingly admire the effort that someone put into the above copy of the just-released birth certificate.

I'll conclude by reiterating that Obama brought this all on himself. When he fails to be reelected, perhaps he'll sit down at home and wish he was NOT born in the United States!

№ 2122

An Easter Diet

COLOR IS GOOD

Yesterday I went to the doctor
For my yearly physical.
My blood pressure was high.
My cholesterol was high.
I'd gained some weight,
and I didn't feel so hot.
My doctor said eating right
doesn't have to be complicated and
it would solve my physical problems.
He said:
Just think in colors.
Fill your plate with bright colors.
Try some greens, oranges, reds,
maybe something yellow, etc.
So I went right home
and ate an entire bowl of
bright colors.

And Sure Enough,
I Felt Better Immediately !!
I never knew eating right could be so easy !!

Now stay healthy,
eat your colors,
and have a nice day.
-(Thanks, Cathy)

№ 2121

Tickling the Funny Bone

Let's Start With a Little Political Incorrectness:
I had just come out of the store with two porterhouse steaks, a jumbo sausage, a bag of chips, and a 6-pack of beer. A homeless man sat there and said, "I haven't eaten for two days."
I told him, "I wish I had your frickin' will power."

Top tip: if you're camping in the summer and the attractive girl in the next tent tells you that because it's so hot she will be sleeping with her flaps open, it's not necessarily an invitation to casual sex. Wish me luck.....I appear in court next Monday.

A fat girl served me food in McDonalds at lunch time. She said, 'sorry about the wait.' I said, 'don't worry, you're bound to lose it eventually.'

I was behind a rather large woman at the checkout. She had on a pair of jeans that said, 'Guess.'
I said, "I don't know........maybe 350 pounds."

Snow in the forecast! The TV weather gal said she was expecting 8 inches tonight, I thought to myself "fat chance with a face like that!"

I have a new pick up line that works every time! It doesn't matter how gorgeous or out of my league a woman might be, this line is a winner and always end up in bed with them. Here's how it goes, "Excuse me love, could I ask your opinion? Does this damp cloth smell like chloroform to you?"

Years ago it was suggested 'that an apple a day kept the doctor away.' But since many doctors are now Muslim, I've found that a bacon sandwich works best.

I took my Biology exam last Friday. I was asked to name two things commonly found in cells. Apparently Blacks and Mexicans were not the correct answers.

A lady about 8 months pregnant got on a bus. She noticed the man opposite her was smiling at her.  She immediately moved to another seat. This time the smile turned into a grin, so she moved again.The man seemed more amused.When on the fourth move, the man burst out laughing, she complained to the driver and he had the man arrested.

The case came up in court.

The judge asked the man (about 20 years old) what he had to say for himself.

The man replied, "Well your Honor, it was like this,when the lady got on the bus, I couldn't help but notice her condition.

She sat down under a sign that said, 'The Double Mint Twins are coming' and I grinned.

Then she moved and sat under a sign that said, 'Logan's Liniment will reduce the swelling,' and I had to smile.

Then she placed herself under a deodorant sign that said, 'William's Big Stick Did the Trick,' and I could hardly contain myself.

But, Your Honor, when she moved the fourth time and sat under a sign that said, 'Goodyear Rubber could have prevented this Accident!'

... I just lost it.'"

'CASE DISMISSED!!'

In a small town in Texas, the local madam operated a telephone service. The police finally arrested her and seized her big black book in which her talent was listed. Each officer on the force was assigned a group of the names in it and told to check them out. After a week, the Chief called a meeting to get their reports.

When it became the turn of Constable Ralph to tell what he had found, he said, "I'm sorry, Chief, but I think I should disqualify myself. One of the ladies on whom I called is an eighty-four-year-old woman. She is so charming that I have to tell you that I have fallen in love with her."

"Holy Moley!" exclaimed the Chief. "I'm sure surprised at you, Ralph. You've been a policeman almost all your life -- and here you are, falling for the oldest trick in the book!"

DEAR MADAM:

THANK YOU FOR YOUR RECENT ORDER FROM OUR SEX TOYS SHOP.

YOU ASKED FOR THE LARGE RED VIBRATOR AS FEATURED ON OUR WALL DISPLAY.

PLEASE SELECT ANOTHER ITEM BECAUSE THAT IS OUR FIRE EXTINGUISHER.

WELL, SHIT!

№ 2120

Cletis Clyde's Oskars

This here is a Tongue-In-Cheek Production.

And iffin y'all doesn't knows what tongue-in-cheek means, then y'all deserves a tongue lashing! And iffin ya really wants to knows, go look it up. You know, gurgle it.

Ya know what really gets my goat? Well, jest 'bout anything gets my goat what ain't right as fer as I can see. But this here post is all 'bout what's a-gettin' my goat this very minute. And my goat started to gettin' got when I wuz a sittin' in my Lazy Boy recliner a lookin' thru my collection of video pickture shows.

Now, I ain't braggin' but I has one of the biggest collections in the whole holler exceptin' maybe fer my cuzzin Clem. He jest has 'em lyin' all over the place and not in any kind of order a'tall. Me, I keeps 'em organized so's I can find 'em real easy like when I wants to see a p'ticular one.

I likes to keep 'em 'ranged by what what kind of pickture and what's in 'em. Some of my favorites I keeps close to my chair a locked up in my tool box. They's the ones wiffin' a lot of T&A. And no, I'm not a vegetablarian - I don't have movies 'bout Taters and Asparagus!

Anyways, back to what it was what got my goat. I think I'm a purty good judge of what a good movie is. Hell, I aint no conasewer ... Ya know, that's one dumb word. It sounds like a 'scaped pris'ner what tried to hide inna septic tank. But I'm a digrestin' ...

Like I was a gettin' at, I got me a whole bunch of good watchin' movies. And ya know what? Not a single nary one of 'em ever won one of them Academic Awards. In fact, I don't think they was even dominated fer an Oskar.

I think all them Hollywood types a been usin' that stuff like cocaine and Rogaine, exceptin' theys a been puttin' the one fer the head up theys noses and the udder way 'round. And fer the record, I bet theys can't figger out which orfices they's s'posed to put chapstick and Preparation H either.

So anyways, this is leadin' up to what's gonna be makin' my goat feel better. I done decided to pick out some movies and give out my Oskar prizes. Now don't y'all be laffin' at my s'lections, coz I'm serious. These are Oskars that them Hollywood types should a been givin' out.

Best S'portin' Actress
Pia Zadora as Grimar in the 1964 cult classic, Santa Claus Conquers the Martians. Eight-year-old Zadora (right in picture) gives an out-of-this-world performance as a young Martian girl.


Best Voice Characterization
Dom DeLuise as the voice of Pizza the Hutt from the epic 1987 space adventure, Spaceballs.


Best Actress
Allison Hayes as Nancy Archer from the 1958 hit, Attack of the 50-Foot Woman. This film demonstrates the old saying 'that Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.' So if you're planning on cheating on your wife, check the skies first to make sure there ain't no giant red balls a floatin' around. (I still wonder why it was that some of her clothes grew wiff her.)

Best Actor
James Arness as the Thing from the classic 1951 Science fiction thriller, The Thing from Another World. When an actor who plays a Marshall of Dodge City who can't seem to recognize the fact that Miss Kitty wants him to bed her, can take on a role as a blood craving celery stalk which terrorizes an arctic military base - now that's some powerful actin', folks. Not to take anything from John Carpenter's remake, but his Thing was all done by special effects.

Best Makeup
The 2000 Sci-Fi megahit, Battlefield Earth had fatastic makeup. I was really convinced that John Travolta as Terl and Forest Whittaker as Ker were really aliens from the planet Psychlos.


Best Adaptation of a Comic Book
How do you bring a comic book character to life? If you put a little person, Ed Gale, in a duck suit and voice it by Chip Zien, you get Howard the Duck. Give him a cigar, a taste for beer, a sexy human girl friend, and deadly monsters bent on the destruction of earth - it's the perfect formula for a hit movie. I was 'specially impressed when the feathers on his head stood up when he was in that erotic bed scene!

Best Director
Ed Wood, Jr. for the 1959 classic, Plan 9 from Outer Space. The plot of the film is focused on extraterrestrial beings who are seeking to stop humans from creating a doomsday weapon that would destroy the universe. In the course of doing so, the aliens implement "Plan 9", a scheme to resurrect Earth's dead to get the planet's attention, causing chaos.

Best Picture
When Jaws was released, people was afraid to go back in the water. When Attack of the Killer Tomatoes came out in 1978, I was afraid to go back into the garden!

After the tomatoes have killed a lot of people, they tomatoes are cornered in a stadium. "Puberty Love" is played over the loudspeaker, causing the tomatoes to shrink and allowing the various people at the stadium to squash them by stomping on them repeatedly. Fairchild, meanwhile, is cornered by a giant tomato wearing earmuffs. Dixon saves her by showing the tomato the sheet music to "Puberty Love." He professes his love to her, in song.

I love the ending- when a carrot rises from the Earth and says "All right, you guys. They're gone now."

Well folks, there y'all have it. Iffin I was to have a say so of what Oskar Awards should be given out, these would be some of my picks. Yer lists might not agree with mine, but who cares? This is my list. Go make yer own list!

№ 2119

Butterfly Dreams (55)

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

They had died when helping thwart a plan to undermine the government of the United States. Now Ben and Susan have returned from the dead and they must bring that government down. Standing in their way are Michael Black and Michelle Gray, the bodies of whom they now occupy.

-(The Story begins HERE)-

A Deadly Digital Dilemma

Michelle's eyes darted from Rosie, to Professor Jordan, to Jeremy Baxter and back to Rosie again. When no explanation was tendered she gulped and asked, "What do mean it's time for your dreams to end?"

"My dreams, your dreams," she waved her arm to encompass everyone present, "our butterfly dreams must come to end. The entire network and all the records must be shut down ... destroyed once and for all."

"But, Rosie," I muttered, "you said you were irreversibly linked with the program. What happens to you?"

Her stoic remark was chilling, "I will die."

Professor Jordan stood behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders and spoke with the same fatalistic tone, "...As will I, along with Bishop King." He saw the question forming on their faces and addressed the matter, "Yes, Julius Gates will suffer the same fate."

"What about President Addams? Will he die also?" asked Baxter.

Jordan cleared his throat, "I don't think anyone present wants responsibility of the death of our President on their conscience. You can belay your fears, we don't have to worry about that. Addams will survive and except for some lost memories, he'll be none the worse for wear."

"That's all well and good, Professor," I said, "but how is that he will survive and not Gates? For that matter, why must you and Rosie die?"

"I'm afraid you can blame ... or thank Gates himself for that. You see, it all comes down to all of those neural implants. There are literally hundreds of those devices out there, all of them located at the bases of the skulls of unsuspecting puppets waiting for a programmed command to send them on some mission of Gates' bidding."

O'Day shivered, "We saw first hand at the nursing home what those things can do to someone. It's not a pretty sight when one of those things is detonated."

"I don't understand," Michelle said, "what about the implants? What do they have to do with who survives?"

"As nefarious as those things are," Jordan began, "the implants will actually protect those who have them. In addition to President Addams, everyone one of you in this room have them ... everyone but myself and ... Rosie."

"Perhaps," Rosie chimed in, "since I am attuned to the programs, I can explain it in simpler terms. When I ... when we shut down the entire network, there will be a signal surge throughout Gates' system. The implants will receive two instantaneous commands, one to completely erase the memories of every facet of the mind research and another for them to become inert. Professor Jordan and myself are in agreement that it is very likely the surge will also cause some minor irritation which will in turn trigger the immune system to release leukocytes to the infected area."

I began to feel a familiar twinge in the center of my forehead and a quick glance to Michelle confirmed she was feeling the same sensation. Rosie was looking at us and winked.

"Michelle and Michael, only the two of you will receive my thoughts. With young David's help there will also be a subroutine that will be sent only to your implants. Once the system and all of the programs are shut down, we will need to have someone with their memories intact. A well known quote comes to mind, 'Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.' We cannot be blind to the possibility, no matter how remote, that Gates may have had backups to all of his programs."

"Mother," Michelle minded, "is there no other way? There must be a way to save you."

"No, I will die either way. Even now I'm becoming more and more the program and less and less Rosie Gates. My physical body is failing ... without my human brain to control my bodily functions I will expire soon enough. It is a deadly digital dilemma, but one I am prepared for ... it will be my legacy."

In an abrupt tilt of her head she announced vocally, "The time is near. Gates is on his way. He has commandeered a jeep and is holding David hostage. He is planning on using him as a bargaining chip."

"He's alone?" queried Baxter. "Wingate, the FBI agents and his secret service attachment aren't with him?"

"As you predicted, Mr. Baxter," she replied, "he's acting on his one glaring weakness. The arrogance of his ego and the threat to his authority is driving him."

"I'm sensing a showdown," I opined. "Just how is Gates' presence going to help with shutting down everything? Surely you don't think he'll just stand by and allow that to happen."

"That's the tricky part, Michael," Jordan responded. "We have to convince him that in order to save his program and to salvage his plans he will have to link directly with network. Of course, he has to think that his actions are his own."

I motioned my head to where Ben and Susan were quietly seated, almost oblivious to the proceedings. "What of them? What's to happen to them? It seems to me that they've been nothing more than pawns in the whole thing."

"Ah," Jordan winked, "our two friends here have been as perplexing to Gates as well as to you and Michelle. Of course, by now I think it is abundantly clear to all present that they are not Ben Bering and Susan Parsons."

The conversation in the hidden laboratory at the university that Michelle and I had had with Bishop King's interactive holographic image came to mind. "Persephone!" I espoused. I swallowed hard and tried to separate my psyche from the body of Michael black. "Then they really are the twins ... of Ben and Susan."

"Yes," he nodded. He glanced at them with sad eyes and continued, "They've been living a rather unremarkable but comfortable life in a small Midwestern town. I'm afraid it was I who disrupted their lives and brought them into the center of this whole mess."

"Ahem, you can't take the entire blame, Professor ... Bishop," interjected Stu. He made eye contact with Michelle and I and elaborated, "Michael ... Ben ... damn it's so confusing even for me. Your brother, Ben's brother ... is Jonathan Jankowski ... my nephew."

"Nephew?" I stuttered. "Are you trying to tell me ... that would make you ... my uncle?"

"My sister died forty-six years ago giving birth to Jonathan and ... to Thomas. My wife, God rest her soul, and I took them in as their legal guardians. We tried to raise them ..."

"Wait a minute," Susan yelped. She lowered her head in an apologetic gesture for the interruption and said, "Please, can't you fill Michael in later? What about me? What's the story with me and my twin?"

Jordan moved toward her and frowned, "I'm afraid that the lives of you and your twin sister are a little more complicated. Under the circumstances that story is also a very delicate matter."

"What? All of my life has been a lie! You know the truth and you're not going to tell me!" she pleaded.

The professor attempted to place his hands on her shoulders but she moved away. "Michelle, I will reveal the truth ... in time." He spread his open palms before her and with his voice barely perceptible whispered, "You see, there is the matter of another set of twins."

"Professor Jordan, don't patronize me. We know all about Michael's twin brother Jeremy. What does that have to do with me?"

"Michelle," he said, "and I'm deliberately speaking to you as Michelle ... I'm referring to the twin sister of Michelle Gray!"

( To be continued

You Can't Choose Your Relations)

№ 2118

Butterfly Dreams (54)

The(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

They had died when helping thwart a plan to undermine the government of the United States. Now Ben and Susan have returned from the dead and they must bring that government down. Standing in their way are Michael Black and Michelle Gray, the bodies of whom they now occupy.

-(The Story begins HERE)-

End of Dreams

Both Brock and I were left speechless. Having seen Rosie on the surveillance video from the nursing home awakened from her year-long coma was one thing, but to see her in the flesh was quite another.

Her acknowledgement of us was nothing more than a curt nod of her head. She stepped aside and motioned for us to pass through the entrance into the room that lie beyond. Jeremy and Stu, assisting the wounded Professor Jordan led the way, followed by Brock and myself. Faye appeared lost in deep thought and hesitated before stepping forth behind me and her husband. Showing neither recognition of us nor emotion Rosie fell in stride between Ben and Susan as the door closed behind us.

We came into a lighted area, a makeshift living quarters consisting of a pair of sofas and several armchairs around a central conference table. Next to a six-foot high wall which partitioned the quarters from a larger room to the left was a pair of doors leading to bed and bath facilities.

Stu positioned a pillow behind Jordan's head even as Baxter helped him into a lying position on the nearest sofa. Despite his injury Jordan growled with feisty bravado, "Stop making such a fuss over me. I'll live! There is much to do ..."

At that moment a side door swung open to reveal Michelle carrying a bag of supplies to treat Jordan's injury. At her back I caught a glimpse of the lower most steps of the steep stairway she'd descended to join us in the underground hideaway.

Giving way to Michelle as she joined Baxter to attend to the professor, Stu moved over to where Brock O'Day and I were standing. He was apologetic as he addressed me, "Michael, the other day at the bar ... I ..."

"Never mind, Stu," I said patting his shoulder, "forget it. I know now that it was part of a plan which required Michelle and me to be kept in the dark. Clever." I looked about the room at the gathered faces and added, "I'll have to admit that even now I'm not sure who to trust and who not to trust."

"That's understandable. You see, it was also important that Gates didn't suspect that his inner circle had been compromised. Of course, in light of recent events, we've lost that advantage and that's going to make our job more difficult."

Raising my eyebrows I asked, "...And just what is our job? Exposing him and his treachery would mean that the existence of our research would have to be made public. I don't think that is at all wise."

From across the room Jordan shouted, "Damn straight it's not wise!" He sat up and moved his arm to test the dressing Michelle had applied to his wound. He looked up at her and smiled, "It feels good. Thank you."

Michelle returned his smile and faced me with her hands on her hips, "Michael, get over here and let me see what I can do for that broken finger."

The professor patted my arm as we passed and said, "Don't worry, she's a good nurse." He raised his voice to make sure he had everyone's attention, "Why don't the rest of us gather around the conference table and we'll discuss what needs to be done."

Rosie offered her outstretched arms to Faye, "Come, sit next me." When Faye hesitated she pleaded, "Please, Faye. Won't you sit beside your sister?"

The professor stood at the end of the table and studied those seated before speaking, "As most of you know there are two minds in my head. I'm speaking to you now not as Professor Jordan, but as Bishop King." He paused to observe the reactions of those seated before him. "I am in the unique position to know Julius Gate's weakness."

"Weakness?" queried Stu Jankowski.

"Ah, let me explain that," he responded. "It's hard to elaborate, but I'll attempt to do so. I ... we ... the professor and myself, might co-exist in this body in a symbiotic manner, but only one of us may be present at any given moment. We are aware of the other and we can communicate with the other. The mind that is at the forefront is there because the other has conceded. Yet, either one of us can assert ourselves over the other."

My finger in a plastic splint and my hand wrapped in gauze and tape Michelle and I took a seat between Brock and Jeremy. I looked at him and said, "I take it that for now the two of you are in agreement as to what we need to do to carry out your plans?"

He smiled, "Quite. We are very much in agreement."

"You said you knew Gates' weakness?" Michelle asked.

He nodded, "Where the two minds in this brain have been compatible, such is not the case with the brain in the body of President Addams. You've witnessed it yourself. Gates is clearly the dominant mind and for the most part has been keeping the Addams' persona suppressed. Our President is a virtual prisoner in his own body."

"All we had to do was to rattle his cage," Baxter cut in, "and to challenge his authority. Sure enough, the general in him reacted ignoring protocol. No general can tolerate a threat to his authority. Gates is no exception. Throw in a threat to his Presidency ..."

"So," I uttered glancing at Ben and Susan, "you produced our two friends here and arranged for Rosie to be kidnapped from the nursing home. Okay, I can see how he would perceive that as a threat and how it would force him to take action, but ..."

"May I, Professor Jordan?" Rosie stood up and looked over to Jordan. He extended an open hand for her to continue.

"I'm sure you've noticed that I am not quite myself," she began, "and that's true. I'm heavily sedated to keep my mind functioning. I might never really be my old self again." She saw the concern on several of our faces and waved her hand, "I'm okay with that, so please don't shower me with pity."

"...And your awakening from the coma was drug induced?" Faye asked.

"Not exactly," interjected Jordan, "unless you consider software a drug!" Not waiting for the expected shocked responses he quickly continued, "As Rosie lapsed into a coma a year ago, so too was she awakened by means of a software program."

When our collective eyes turned back to Rosie she spoke again, "Not in the manner in which both Professor Jordan and Bishop King are standing before you in the same body, but I too exist in a state of duality."

Brock O'Day whistled softly, "Wait a minute. First we learn that Gates and President Addams are in the same head. Then the professor tells us that he and King are renting the same skull, and now you're going to tell us that someone else is sharing your brain too?"

I placed my good hand on his shoulder and announced, "My friend, I don't think she's referring to ... a someone."

"You are correct, Michael," Rosie said, her demeanor remaining stoic. "Ever since the destruction of the facilities in New Hampshire I have been intrinsically and irreversibly integrated with and into General Gates' master program. There was a massive power surge into his control module while I was linked to the system and as a result, it is part of me and I am part of it."

"Rosie, I'm so sorry that such a horrible thing happened to you," I muttered. "Maybe it is possible to ... separate you from the program ... or the program from you?"

"No, I'm afraid that's not possible." She noted without visible reaction to the glum faces of us gathered around the table. For a moment she gazed at Michelle and her act of wiping away a tear from the corner of her eye before addressing her directly, "Because of the merger of my mind and the program, I am incapable of experiencing emotion but I do have a memory and I do know that you, Susan Parsons, are my daughter."

Michelle laid her head against my shoulder and began to weep. "Oh, mother," she blubbered, "if only we'd had ... more time ... to get to know each other!"

"Perhaps you can take comfort in knowing that when I am in a comatose state, I am actually sleeping and while asleep I do experience dreams," she said, "and in those dreams we are close ... and we talk. I'm looking forward to our final talk out there in the night and naked together we'll watch the butterflies fly away."

Michelle bolted upright and gasped, "My dream! You know of my dream?" She looked into Rosie's eyes as if looking into her soul, "You've been sending that dream to me ... in my dreams!"

She moved away from the table and nodded to Professor Jordan, "I sense that the time is near." She looked back at Michelle and whispered, "For me, it will soon be time for the end of dreams."

( To be continued

A Deadly Digital Dilemma )

№ 2117