Newsgroups: gweepnet.yarn
Path: hotblack!mute
From: mute@hotblack.gweep.net (Josh Brandt)
Subject: Re: And, in other news...(thread me baby!)
Message-ID: 
Summary: 'cause we need some MIB's.
Organization: GweepCo Cooperative Network - Worcester, Massachusetts, USA
References:  
Date: Tue, 19 Jul 1994 01:44:18 GMT

In article ,
Liz Stewart  wrote:
>noticed that his pet frog, Stevey, was loose.  He went out of the room to
>find the little rascal, when he heard Melissa scream quite loudly from the
>other room.  He rushed back into the bedroom and...

...began to look around for the wayward amphibian when he realized that
something was drastically wrong. Melissa, usually an over-excitable girl at
best, had stopped screaming, and was, in fact, very very quiet. He couldn't
even hear her moving around. Looking over behind the bed, Devan realized
that she had fallen back, limp, onto the floor. Devan moved to see if she
was all right when he heard a voice speaking from the hallway behind him.

"Stand up, please, Mr. Krontab." The voice was deep and emotionless, hollow
and completely devoid of any personality. Devan slowly straightened up and
began to turn. Standing in the bedroom door was a tall man clad in a black
trenchcoat. He had short brown hair, and a black hat was clamped firmly upon
his head. His hands were thrust into the pockets of his coat, and 
mirrored glasses concealed his eyes. 

"What are you doing in my house?" asked Devan. The man pulled his right hand
out of the pocket of his coat, revealing a small compact pistol.

"You'll have to come with us, Mr. Krontab." Devan jumped and spun around.
A second man, almost identical to the first, had stepped from the bathroom
behind Devan.

"We've seen your dreams," added the first man. "You know too much."

"You'll have to come with us," reiterated the first man. He too was holding
a stubby pistol. The two men in black levelled their weapons at him. He
turned to run, waiting for the staccatto snap of gunfire. 

The two small puffing sounds seemed incongrously quiet, but, Devan mused as
the bedroom floor grew very quickly very much closer to him, they seemed to
do the job. He remembered striking the floor, but nothing after that.
-- 
Passage of time flickers dimly on the fading screen          
I can't see the lines I used to think I could read between  --  Eno
                                               mute@hotblack.gweep.net


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