Newsgroups: gweepnet.yarn
Path: hotblack!truss
From: truss@hotblack.gweep.net (Tom Russell)
Subject: Re: ...to handle this here situation.
Message-ID: 
Summary: You'll hate me for this but...
Organization: ThreadMaster Corp.
References:    
Date: Wed, 17 Aug 1994 01:26:08 GMT

>The pounding in his head stopped, and Gramps looked up again.  "Okay, okay,
>you got me, what do you want?"
>
>"First, I want you to take that child home before she catches her death of
>cold in exactly... " the apparition looked at his naked wrist and swore. 
>"about fifteen minutes.  Then..."
  
  ...I want you to apologize to Kinkaid for your childish actions."

  "I'm not about to--"  Suddenly Gramps gripped his head as the pain
returned in full force.  "All right!  All right!  I'll apologize to that
heathen jackass!"

  "And you'll do so in a more polite tone.  Finally, you will never, *EVER*
return to this place at night.  Do you understand me Culpepper?"

  "Y-yes, whatever you say."

  "Fine, now SCRAM!!!"

  Gramps and Jenny fled from the park at top speed, not daring to stop until
they reached the steps of Gramp's house.  After several minutes, Jenny went
inside to get a couple of beers for her and Gramps (technically, she wasn't
supposed to drink, but she knew Gramps wasn't gonna begrudge her this one
beer).  By the time she got back out to the porch, Gramps was almost
finished wheezing.

  "Gramps," said Jenny handing Gramps his brewski, "what the fu--I mean,
what in the world was that?"

  Gramps jerked the cap off with his good tooth and took a hard swig from
the bottle.  "I don't know.....I don't know."

  "What are we going to do Gramps?  I'm scared."

  "I don't know, Jenny.  I guess as long as I apologize to that
whippersnapper and we stay away from that haunted park, there won't be any
problems."

  "We can't just let a ghost run around loose, Gramps!"

  "It's not like we can order around the Supernatual, Jenny."

  "Maybe we can't, but...."


			*	*	*	*


  "Boy, Daphne, it was really swell of your Uncle to let us stay at his
place for the weekend."

  The psychidelic van made it's way jauntily down the highway.  Blue, green
and salmon swirls covered the side and turned not a few heads as it passed. 
Blazoned near the rear of the side pannels in a wild font style:  a proud
proclamation of the van's mission in life.  The Mystery Machine was in high 
gear and headed for fun.

  "Well you can thank my sister, Jenny for the offer, Fred,"  said the
redhead in the front seat.  "Normally, Gramps doens't like visitors except
for family members, but this time he seemed more than happy to put us all
up."

  "A good thing for us, too," said the bespectacled girl next to her, "most
of the motels were all filled up.  Thanks to your Uncle, we've got a place
to stay for the local Summer Rock Festival."

  "Man oh man, we can hardly wait, huh Scoob?" said a gangly teen in back.

  "Right, Raggy," said Scooby.  No one seemed to mind that the dog was
speeking in broken, but intelligble English.

  "Yeah," said Shaggy, "they're gonna have lots of great food at that
Festival.  Hot dogs, hamburgurs, pizza, sodas, shakes, ice cream, cotton
candy, popcorn...."  Shaggy drifted off in mid-list, lost in a gastronomic
ecstacy.

  "Yeahyeahyeahyeahyeahyeahyeahyeahyeah!!" said Scooby.

  "And best of all," said Shaggy, "no spooky mysteries to solve, just good
music and good food."

  The Mystery Machine continued merrily on it's way to the City.


later
Truss
(Carolyn, Trish, I'm Tom, remember?)

 




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