Because we had so much fun with it back in the Squishy days of lore, I thought I'd revive the story-telling topic.

Here's how it works: Someone sets up a scene with a small paragraph. The next poster adds on to it, continuing the story, and the next poster adds onto that et cetera.

And the first person to say "And then she woke up because it was all a dream!!!!!!" gets shanked.

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

Answers

It was a soul sucking-ly hot day in the big city, and Templeton could feel himself melting as he pounded the pavement, looking for work. Between the crushing humidity and the omnipresent fumes from the stalled traffic, he could feel himself fade into the background like painted-over graffiti, and only the thought of what awaited him at home if he came back without a job kept him from giving up and running away to somewhere cooler, like the surface of the sun.

It had been three hours since he left home, and Templeton was desperate for something to cool him off. He fingered the change in his pocket ... just enough for a tall frappachino, and enough energy to make it through the rest of the day. He ducked into the Starbucks on the corner, little realizing that the decision would be a turning point affecting the rest of his natural life.

He struggled up to the counter and said...

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

"Hello, Nurse!"

He couldn't help himself. The redhead behind the counter caused his eyes to reel around like gumballs in a penny machine. Her powdered- sugar-covered apron, and coffee-flecked face (or were they freckles?) were enough to send his mind back 20 years to the day he met her on the shores of that far away place.

"Is it... could it be you...I..." he stammered.

A flicker of recognition passed across her face, before she answered with a bellow "ORDER UP!"

Shocked back into reality, he mumbled his order to the young man at the register next to hers, and turned away, not seeing the look she gave the back of his head.

"Who was that guy?" asked her neighboring barrista.

"Nobody," she said. "Just...

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

" . . . was hoping he was dead," she mumbled under her breath.

She hadn't been having a good day to begin with. Standing behind the fucking counter for the third day in a row because some little twit called in sick -- probably too much coke the night before, and probably Baby would stumble in at three with the sniffles. And here she was, performing menial labor, when she'd told them explicitly the day she got hired that she was a pastry person.

She had hoped she was dead. She had gone to sleep many nights comforted by the knowledge that he would never see her -- she who had once won Dessert of the Year three years running, whose petit napoleons had made queens faint, who had once had a man propose after sampling the cream in her éclair -- behind a Starbucks counter.

As she watched him pay, she thought of the day it had all started to go wrong. She had been young; she had had the world at her feet; she had gotten away from Mazzoli; and then . . .

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

"An old friend of the family."

But he had been much more than that, hadn't he? On that island, so long ago, he had most defintely been more than that.

His name had popped up from time to time over the past 20 twenty years, mostly when she got together with friends from tht other time and place. The conversation would inevitably come around to him, how could it not? They would all ask, "Whatever happened to Templeton?" No one ever knew, but every time the question came, year after year, she secretly wished someone knew.

The truth was, she thought about him everyday. After all, how can you forget the man who............

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

[Going with the MOC's continuation]

...taught you how to blow cigar smoke rings at the tender age of 15? And presented you with your first machete on the occasion of your 18th birthday?

Silently, the fetching barista cursed the day she'd let her friend talk her into working the noon-to-close shift. That would have been....oh, wait, let me see -- Thursday? No, Tuesday. Yes, it was Tuesday. She cursed Tuesday. Fucking Tuesday, man.

But quickly, her thoughts returned to Templeton. Templeton! The man who had brought adventure and fun and not a little bit of the naughty back into her life after everything went kaflooey on the beach that wretched day so long ago. And now, here he was, drinking a Frappucino just yards away from her. She had to say something to him! But what?

Instinct overtook planning skills as she dashed around the pastry case, strode over to Templeton's table and said,

"Excuse me, sir, but..."

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

"...your shoelaces are untied. Be careful, you might trip and spill that $4.00 frap."

She had lost her courage and wimped out. But, before she turned to run away she mustered up the courage to give him a long, hard look right into those beautiful eyes....those eyes that were as aqua-blue as the water along the shore of that far away place...that place where she had left the part of her soul that had meant the most to her.

She was paralyzed where she stood, willing her legs to move but they disobeyed her and kept her frozen to the spot. With all of her strength, she was finally able to break the gaze and her legs mercifully followed suit. But as she stumbled away, Templeton reached out and grabbed her gently by the wrist. He turned her around and said, "I have been looking for you all of my life...I am not letting you get away that easily. Please, if nothing else, answer this one question. Why did you..."

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

...have to undercut me? It was a friendly game of basketball, and I had the layup. I've been tossing and turning every night for twenty years, trying to figure it out. Why did the game mean so much that you were willing to send me to the hospital?"

She cringed at the implication.

"Nothing you can say will make me feel more guilty than I already do," she said softly. "I just wanted to win."

She didn't have to ask how the leg was doing -- she'd seen him limp into the store, and knew she'd soon have to watch him hobble out. She remembered the stories ... how the ACC Player of the Year had broken his back playing a random game of pick-up on the island. He'd just landed wrong. It could have happened to anyone, anywhere, but it had happened to him and she'd been the cause. The NBA scouts had said he's be a top-five pick, the best point guard to come out of college since Magic. Instead, he went undrafted.

She was an all-conference player herself, the Big South's top freshman, and she had played the game rough. Too rough, she knew, as she saw Templeton twenty years later and thought again about how quickly dreams died. They had known each other so briefly, but during that vacation she'd allowed herself to dream that they'd always be together, playing professional basketball and having tall, athletic children. Now, here they were.

Templeton cleared his throat. "I just want you to know...

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

"...that I'm here, I'm queer, get used to it."

He sat back in his chair with a smug smile, and watched as the shock spread across her features.

She couldn't speak. All of those years, the little touches, the tickle fights, the long smouldering glances, what did they mean now? Nothing. Unless...

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

he'd known all along that she was a transexual.

When her parents had moved her to a new high school, she figured the only way she'd make the basketball team was if she tried out for the girls' team. It had sort of snowballed after that.

"Templeton," she said. "Does this mean that..."

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

"...a fair is a veritable smorgasborg, orgasborg, orgasborg? Because if so, I think we need to rethink that fateful season."

Templeton's smirk faded, and he replied, "...

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

...Now look here, Charlotte Webb. I don't need to be hearing any of your prattle right now. Can't you see I haven't eaten in three days? A smorgasborg? I can't even afford a lemon square."

She looked hurt at the uncalled for hostility. Templeton glanced up at the mural behind the counter to gather himself, noticing the rural farm scene with all the farm animals drinking coffee. "Some pig" he said offhandedly, as he noticed the animal apparently enjoying a soy latte while wallowing in the mud.

"Look, I'm sorry I lost my cool," he apologized. "It's just that...

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

...when i said queer, i meant it in the sense of feeling ill."

There had recently been a rash of Starbuck's related deaths in the area, and the owners were looking into allegations that their coffee beans were tainted with something the media was calling "the brown tide". Templeton did indeed look unwell, she mused. Beads of perspiration were mounting his lip like rodeo clowns on a fence, and his eyes bulged unnaturally.

When he spoke, his voice was thick with hot, liquid death, and she had to lean in to hear him.

"You've gained weight," he said.

She responded viscerally and without forethought.

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

"...every time someone uses the word "smorgasborg", it means the terrorists have won. I just get so gol-durned mad over them terrorists." His eyes began to tear slightly, his breath began to catch, and he glanced up to her face. That sweet face that he knew like the palm of his own hand, that face looked ravaged by pain. Tracks below her eyes from years of tears, stains from all that running mascara, a marked tic on the right side of her mouth. Oh, he knew the signs. Oh, god, how he knew.

She tilted her head to gaze out the window, automatically thinking back to days where words did not call up images of terrorism, the days when a woman could just talk about food in a devil-may-care fashion. To be in those days again, holding his hand, massaging his gimp leg, what she wouldn't give.

But, it could never be the way it was in the old days.

Fernando had changed everything. So rakish, in his leather pants, thinking of him still made her tremble. She sighed and said...

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

"I've been waiting to here back from NBDL about a referring gig and I'm a little nervous. You know how hard it is get a job as a basketball referee when you have a limp? It was bad enough when the European league shot me down, but the NBDL? I don't think they are in a position to be choosy, ya know what I mean?"

She did. She hadn't worked in Starbucks all her life. There had been a time in her past when, she too, had felt the pain of rejection. It wasn't so much that she got turned away by the WNBA, but did they have to humiliate her by.....

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

(whoops, continue from Sara's!)

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

Sorry. Continued from Mike's.

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

(actually, in a weird way, it all sort of works)

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

The Starbucks door opened. Her face and neck felt itchy and warm, and she knew she was blushing. She did not want to see him now. What to do...

She got up and strode for the kitchen area, but beforee leaving templeton to his dwindling cup she leaned over him, softly kissed his neck and whispered.. "I get off at eight. meet me __"

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

"...at a quarter past never, you rat!" She fairly flew to the back of the shop, muttering, "Gained WEIGHT? GAINED weight? For your information, gimp, I happen to be radiant."

Templeton heard her.

"Full of eggs..?" he breathed. "But, how, when..?"

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

"....Starbucks. Not this one. The other one. Down the street. It has better coffee. I know we are all suppossed to have the same coffee but their's just tastes better from some reason I don't know why but it's the truth. Just meet me there. 8 o'clock."

She gotthat out quickly enough so she was able to leave Templeton and make it into the back room before Mrs. Sparco saw her. Mrs. Sparco was her landlady. It felt wierd calling a woman your same, relatively young, age your landlady (not to mention Mrs.) but that was what she insisted on.

She currently owed Mrs. Sparco two months back rent. She had refused to pay it because Mrs. Sparco refused to fix the broken light above the bathroom sink. She figured that Mrs. Sparco refused to fix it because Mrs. Sparco believed the rumor floating around the building that she was having an affair with the also-quite-young Mr. Sparco. Which wasn't true at all. In fact, the only thing she HAD done with Mr. Sparco was....

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

She reeled around and with her eyes as black as coal, and replied seethingly, "It was a dark and stormy night, and Wilbur had introduced me to his parents that night over a nice dinner of brisket and new potatoes. We were on the way back to the farm when we got a flat tire. Wilbur pulled to the side of the road and got out to take a look at the damage. While he was crouched along the side of the car, a large black limosine zoomed by us, barely missing Wilbur. The car was so close that it took the hairs off of Wilbur's chinny-chin- chin."

She continued, this time in a more hestitant way, with a far away look in her eyes, "And, just as I thought that the driver did not even realize how close he had come to making Wilbur into a pulled pork sandwich, the car schreeched to a stop. The driver jumped out of the driver's side and opened the back door. Out of the back of the limosine climbed....

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

(Damn, sorry)

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

(I was obviously going off of Sara...that MOC, his typing fingers are crazy-quick, I tell you)

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

(continuing from Chris)

...play Conasta. And the only reason she had done that is because he paid her. The guy gave her the creeps, but she felt a little sorry for him. He said he didn't dare tell any of his buddies at the plant about his Conasta championships. He did have a reputation to protect, after all.

She was sick of the Sparco broad snooping around after her, but didn't have time to worry about it right now.

Touching up her make-up, she was about to head out the door when she heard a tapping at her bathroom window. "What does he want?" she wondered. She was shocked to see that it was...

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

...Bubba, a truck driver friend who hit the lottery in the early 90s, but kept living his life exactly the same except for the change in his coffee preference (once Folgers, now Starbucks) and his footwear (once ratty old Payless tennis shoes, now big white Adidas with no laces).

With Bubba was his sometimes-girlfriend, Jiggy. A big smile exposing an almost toothless mouth was on Jiggy's sweet face. Years of working as a professional massuese had led to a private career as a fetishist. During a toe-sucking session, an epileptic seizure let to her client kicking out almost all of her teeth.

Surprised to see Jiggy, of all people, Charlotte cried out...

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

"I thought you were dead!"

Cackling, Jiggy answered...

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

"Bubba! You've got Jiggy wit ya!"

Charlotte threw open the bathroom window and climbed out, her long legs easily reaching the ground below. Once outside she threw her arms around Bubba and told him she needed to get the hell outta Dodge.

Luckily, Bubba had driven his Caravan.

"Well, climb on in, Char. Me and Jiggy was just gonna..."

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

...go up to the creek, and hunt for wild jackalopes. Whyantya come along?"

She had one foot on the backseat when she froze. Across the street she saw Templeton, holding the Employment Section of the Herald- Tribune News and sucking down the last molecules of the frappachino. And she thought, "I have to at least try and do something for him before I get out of here. I owe him that much."

So she hollered ...

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

"...Jimmy crack corn, and I DON'T CARE! I don't give a good goddamn what Jimmy does, and I want the whole world to know!!!"

Templeton froze; he was filled with a mixture of sheer terror and incredible elation. He knew where he had heard those words before, and he knew what had happened the last time he heard them. Templeton knew then that it was time for him to...

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

be a daddy to those babies Charlotte was carrying. He wondered if they'd have her smile, her legs... he hoped at least one of them would have his gimp. There first words would probably be...

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

...godDAMNit Kobe Bryant! Quit bein' a baby!"

At least that's what Charlotte hoped they'd be. Damn those Lakers for costing me my rent money she thought.

Templeton didn't know why or wherefore, didn't give a thought to the folks he was leaving behind, but he hopped in that car with her and...

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

(while silently cursing his inability to distinguish between "there" and "their"), turned to his beloved, tweaked her egg sack affectionately, and asked her to

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

turn on the radio. Zeppelin again.

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

"You know", she said,"I was the fifth Zeppelin. Not many people know that."

"Get right out of town!",he said, and he slowly began to move towards her, eyes never leaving her face.

"Oh, it's true",she spoke while gazing up at the clouds."I co-wrote Stairway, but do you think I got one red cent? Hell no. Not a lot of people know this, but Jimmy Paige is one chintzy bastid."

He moved closer, behind her, moving his face to her hair and breathing deeply in, smelling the patchouli scent of the incense she burned constantly, still.

"Charlotte...", he murmured her name as she turned...

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

"...do you think Bubba would drop me off at my Mom's? It's just that I haven't seen her since the accident and I want her to meet the woman who made me the gimp I am today."

Charlotte yelled out from the back of the van, "Hey Bubba! We gotta get to Des Moines!"

Bubba spit his chew into the empty Wendy's cup in his hand, before he turned and said...

-- Anonymous, June 05, 2002

"...Hell yeah, we're going to Des Moines! The String Cheese Incident is playing there this very night!"

Charlotte had no idea what Bubba was talking about. Perhaps it was a reference to some school lunch snack disaster that Charlotte hadn't heard about.

Before she could ask, Bubba went into a long dissertation on the history of the jam band in rock and roll. They rolled into Des Moines four hours later, just as Bubba was launching into an explanation of the social and political significance of Phish's 'Hampton Comes Alive'.

Templeton leaned forward to Bubba and yelled above the stereo....

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

"MY MOM WON'T LIKE US TALKING ABOUT THIS! SHE WAS CRAZY FOR FRAMPTON BACK IN THE DAY, AND DOESN'T LIKE PHISH. SAYS IT TAKES THE SHINE OFF PETE'S LEGACY!"

Snorting derisively, Bubba turned and said "Oh, yeah? Well you can tell her for me..."

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

..."that Phish isn't good enough to tarnish silver, let alone Frampton's legacy."

The stereo died, as if willed by God into silence at Bubba's comment.

"It's true," Bubba said. "Just because Ben and Jerry name an ice cream after you doesn't mean you don't suck."

Charlotte was the first to respond...

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

..."Boy, you folks are abnormally hostile towards a band. Just a band, folks. Ain't like we're talking about important music, like Elvis (lord rest his soul) or that Beetle band. Have another hit and relax."

She reached up and swiftly changed the radio station to NPR, allowing the voice of Garrison Keillor to relax one and all. Then, turning towards Templeton, she said,"...

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

"...You know, it seems you were accidentally possessed by Owen Meany up there. What do you think it all MEAN(IE)S?"

Templeton thought that was a very bad pun. So he said to her, "You know, I think that was a very bad pun. Can we go back to talking about Frampton again? Because I really think he was a hottie. Oh, and you have a little shmutz on your..."

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

"...I shot a man in Lake Wobegon once. It was the dead of winter. I remember it being cold. So very, very cold. I was out ice fishing and a man appraoched me out of the south. Nothing special about him, just an ordinary man. H asked me how the fishing was. I said it was fina and held up my catch for the day. Suddenly he pulled a boning knife and told me to hand over the trout. Well, I wasn't handing over nothing, so I quickly pulled out my trusty .38 special and put two in the guy's chest and one right between the eyes, which wasn't easy because he had a balaclava on."

The other three sat stony silent. Finally Jiggy got up the nerve to speak. She turned to Charlotte and said, "I don't mean to argue wid ya but...."

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

...I know fer a fact you ain' never been to Wisconsin."

Charlotte froze and with a steely voice said "Now why would you go and tell a damn lie like that, Jiggy, when we've been like sisters for nigh on 13 years?"

Jiggy blew a menthol smoke ring, hacked a little and said...

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

..."I'm just stating a fact, is all."

Charlotte stood up to her full six-feet six in her hightop basketball shoes.

"You take that back, you toothless two-timing tool, or I swear to God I'll leave you, your smoker's cough and your body-by-Ben-and-Jerrys ass right here in Iowa."

Templeton looked at Bubba as if to telepathically urge him to get his woman to stand down. Bubba just shrugged and said...

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

"....It may not be jello wrasslin' at the nudie club, but it'll do."

With that, the two women went at each other, it wasn't easy fighting in a Caravan, what with the small amount of head room and a width that wouldn't allow you to get a proper wind up for a good punch in the nose. But Charlotte and Jiggy did the best they could.

Just as it looked as if Jiggy was getting the upper hand and was about to pull out her switchblade and finish Charlotte The Harlot off, the side door of the Caravan flew open and...

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

...they noticed Gervase from the first Survivor standing outside the door, holding a Sunkist. The girls, trying to stay true to the storyline, immediately gave chase. Gervase was fast, but he was no match for these two badass behemoths. Charlotte and Jiggy took Gervase down, and wouldn't let him go until he agreed to their challenge:

"One game of H-O-R-S-E, you little bitch. Winner gets the Sunkist; loser gets an ass-beating the likes of which this town has never seen."

Gervase, shaken, but not stirred, replied, "...

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

...two on one ain't hardly fair. I know y'all are chicks, but you gotta let me have a partner, right"

The women nodded. Gervase turned around and beckoned to the driver of the SUV pulling up alongside the shoulder. The door opened.

"My God," Charlotte whispered. "It's..."

"Yup," Jerri from Survivor Outback said. "It's your worst nightmare."

Gervase smiled and said...

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

"Let's make the stakes more interesting. You gals win, we let you get on with the asswhupping. But if you lose, you have to take Jeri with you."

Charlotte and Jiggy gave each other a measured look, and then Jiggy said, "Ok, as long as.....

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

..Jeff Probst stays at home."

Satisfied with the agreement, the four walked towards the empty basketball court. But before they could begin play, Jeri. . .

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

....thought she saw a Playboy photographer in the distance. Before Gervase could stop her, Jerri had stripped naked and went running after him.

This obviously left Gervase in a sticky situation. After all, it ain't easy trying to beat a WNBA hopeful and a toothless redneck at hoops. Luckily, at that very moment.....

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

Kobe Bryant walked by, chugging a Sprite.

As soon as Templeton and Bubba laid eyes on him they...

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

...kicked his sorry ass.

"And you tell Rick Fox and Robert Horry there's more where that came from," they cackled.

But that only...

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

...delayed the inevitable. As expected, within minutes Gervase lost all and walked away dejected, looking for Geri. He found her practicing her I-just-did-something-evil-and-this-pleases-me face in a reflection from a mudpuddle. The past week had been devoted to preparation for Geri's role as an extra in the Return to Dynasty reunion mini-series. Gervase shook his head.

He quickly turned and ran back to Charlotte and Jiggy, still high- fiving and slapping one another on the ass. "Please, take me with you!" he cried.

Charlotte and Jiggy quickly glanced at one another. Jiggy smirked as Charlotte said, "Sure, Ger, there's just one thing you have to do before we can accept you as one of our homies..."

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

"...Deliver my babies!" cried Charlotte, who had just gone into premature labor.

Templeton rushed to Charlotte's side. As he watched, a seemingly never-ending stream of babies began to pile up, one on top of the next. He saw his future as plainly as Gervase had seen his when he decided to leave his pregnant wife and go spend 40 days on an island with a bunch of strangers and be introduced to his new baby on national television.

This did not seem like such a bad idea to Templeton.

He faked a cough, and backed away from Charlotte slowly. He was half way to the Caravan when he felt a

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

big fart coming on. He let loose, felt better, and bolted for the Caravan.

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

He scrambled for the driver's seat, but there was a man sitting there. A man with spiky restless hair, stubble and boyishly good looks. "Peter Fucking Krause?" he cried in shock. "Except for the 'Fucking' part... yes." Peter Krause said. "What are you doing here?" Templeton asked the scruffy, yet clean-cut Krause. "You've been watching too much 'Six Feet Under.' But apart from that, I think I'm a subconscious interpretatation of your current situation. Remember that episode where all the kids suddenly appeared that I'd fathered over the years, like I was in some twisted day care center?" "Yeah," Templeton answered, bewildered. "Well?" Krause urged. "Uh?" Templton said. "Jesus. I fucking give up," Krause said, disappearing into a mist of the same imagination he had sprung from. Templeton, who in addition to his gimpy leg suffered from a short attention span, got back to the business of bolting from the scene. He turned the keys, which were already in the ignition, when suddenly...

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

Luckily Bubba had left the keys in the ignition when he went to get a new can of Copenhagen. Templeton wouldn't have necessarily chosen a Caraven to steal if he had choice, but men who are about to skip out on their parental responsibilities can't be choosy.

He turn the Caravan over, slammed down on the gas pedal, and headed for the highway, leaving the other three neck deep in newborns.

He was a little upset abour abandoning Charlotte, but he was sure Bubba and Jiggy would take good care of her. Even if they didn't have a vehicle anymore and were stranded on a basketball court in Des Moines, Iowa.

Besides, Templeton had places to be. He had just 12 hours to get to Baltimore. He didn't even want to think what would happen if he didn't make it. It would mean....

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

[Note to Chris: Reload before you post, doofus.]

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

...the Orioles would have to start Scott Erickson against the Red Sox in a critical American League East matchup. He'd gotten permission from manager Mike Hargrove to leave the team for the evening for "family reasons", but he knew this was his one shot to stick on the Major League roster. He needed the money if he had any chance of clearing up the million-dollar credit card bill he'd accumulated on Amex over the past few years.

He drove through the night, bleary-eyed and unfocused, reaching Camden Yards by midmorning. He expected to be the first one in the clubhouse, but there was Josh Charles, swinging a bat in the shower.

First Peter Krause, now this Templeton thought. I've gotta stop watching Sports Night

But Charles was all too real, as Templeton found out to his chagrin when...

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

Charles, with a lusty gleam in his eye and a lecherous grin, put his bat down and took it out. It. Out. Right there in the otherwise empty clubhouse. Templeton felt the old familiar stirrings take flight from his loins. With a flushed face and a suddenly too tight collar, Templeton stepped forward and whispered...

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

"Wow, I have never seen a naked man 'take it out' before. I mean, I assume it already is 'out' when a guy is in the shower, but yours, Sweet Jesus, it's still unfolding..."

Ten minutes later, Charles had completed the process. He spit on his hands and invited Templeton to step into the batter's box. Templeton, unsure of helmet laws in the area, asked Charles if he had a spare. Much to his surprise, Charles 'took that out' too.

"My God, what else do you have in there?" Templeton murmured.

-- Anonymous, June 06, 2002

"Just this," Charles said, and whipped out a switchblade.

Templeton tried to run, but found his arms pinned behind his head by Robert Guillaume.

"Come, come now," Charles said. "You didn't think Charlotte would really just let you walk off again, did you?"

"Benson, let me go," Templeton begged, but...

-- Anonymous, June 07, 2002

....It wasn't going to happen, especially once the Gold Sisters walked in the door. Working on both Benson and Growing Pains had turned them into angry women.

"You're going to not only pay for what you did to Charlotte," said Tracy, "but I think I'll take out all my repressed rage towards Kirk Cameron on your gimp ass, as well."

Templeton thought he was done for, but then he remembered...

-- Anonymous, June 07, 2002

"Kraus!"

A split-second after he yelled out the name, Inga Swenson burst through the wall like the Kool-Aid man. Templeton was grateful for the distraction, as he worked furiously to free himself while she spoke to the other Benson cast members in that wacky European accent.

But just as he managed to squirm free from Benson's grasp...

-- Anonymous, June 07, 2002

...who should come stumbling into the room but Juan Epstein and Freddie "Boom Boom" Washington. Templeton tried to break out by darting between them, hoping to catch them off-guard with his sudden move, but Boom Boom was too quick. Before Templeton could say Mr. Woodman, a rubber hose was being inserted up his nose.

His eyes tearing up and his breath coming in short gasps, Templeton...

-- Anonymous, June 07, 2002

...held up his hand, and with a pleading look on his face shouted "STOP. Wait a minute!"

The cast members of various 1980's television programs froze before him, waiting.

"Look," Templeton said. "Jesus. I just wanted a damn frappacino. And then with the woman from my past and babies and the Caravan and... Jiggy? - I mean have you seen her teeth? - it's all too much. Where the hell did you people come from? How do I get out of this mess? I just want to go home."

Sobbing, he broke down in tears. The room echoed with his crying, no one else making a sound, when... from the assembled crowd... a small voice spoke up.

"Templeton, I can help you."

The group parted, and into the spotlight, with a strange glow about him, stepped Emmanuel Lewis...

-- Anonymous, June 07, 2002

dressed in white satin pantaloons with a yellow pipe cleaner halo above his head.

"Webster!" Templeton gasped.

"That's right, bitch," Lewis retorted. "I'm your Fairy God Shorty and I'm here to make it all right again. Now tell me how you got into this mess."

"Well, what had happened was..." Templeton started.

"Was that you wanted to practice your swing with my bat!" Josh Charles interrupted.

"Shut-up, Charlie," Lewis said as he turned him into a kilbasa.

Templeton fell to his knees and begged his Fairy God Short to...

-- Anonymous, June 07, 2002

"Just make it stop."

"Your wish," Webster replied, "is my freaking command. Next time you find yourself in a situation where your pop culture references are mixing at this level of craziness, just snap your fingers above your head in a Z Formation, and I'll be there to help you."

With that, Webster clapped his hands and did the Macarena.

Templeton closed his eyes as a blinding flash of light flared around him. When he finally had the courage to look again he saw that he had been transported to his mother's front lawn and, rushing to the front door, took a moment to turn and say to no one in particular, "Fancy coffee is good, if you're rich, but the rush it can bring you is sometimes a bitch."

THE END

-- Anonymous, June 07, 2002