The SoapBoxers

Today, I bring you the first of yet another multi-part story.  I really do intend for the Fiction Friday stories to be 500-700 words, but I’ve been having a few of them get away from me lately.  This is the first of a three part story – the other segments will be published over the weekend.  Without further ado, A Crazy Plan.

“Then, at the end of a year, you get me released, and I vanish from the facility.”

Dr. Stanley Banks finished his steaming coffee with a gulp, and then broke into a broad grin as he looked across the table at his childhood friend.

“I’d probably fake a transfer to another facility. It wouldn’t reflect well on Lennox to simply have you walk out the door.”

“You’re on board with the plan?”

“Count me in. It sounds like splendid fun.”

“Wonderful. I’ve always wanted to write a novel from the perspective of an inmate of an insane asylum. What better way to gain perspective that though immersion?”

“You’ll be a resident, Joe, not an inmate. We don’t much cotton to the term asylum any more, either. I’m sure you’ll learn a lot during your year as our guest,” Banks said with a laugh.

Joe flagged down the waitress, who topped off their cups of coffee. The two men clinked mugs as a toasts toward the success of the endeavor.

The next day, world renowned author Scooter Smith – known to his friends by his real name of Carlton Joseph “Joe” Walker – informed his publisher that Scooter would be taking a step back from the limelight to focus on his next book. Scooter Smith tended to avoid the public eye, and had retreated into seclusion several times in the past, so the publisher was not overly surprised.

“Enjoy the time away from society,” same the voice from the other end of the phone.

“You bet, Vic. I’ll have a best seller on your desk a year from today.”

Vic laughed. “That’s what every publisher wants to hear.”

Shortly thereafter, Sascha Walker began the process of having her husband committed to a mental institution. On the night before the hearing, Joe and Sascha celebrated Joe’s imminent detention with a night of wild sex – fueled by a small amount of cocaine purchased especially for the occasion.

The hearing was decidedly one sided. Sascha’s testimony about Joe’s recent spate hallucinations, delusions, and violent behavior made a strong case for commitment. The renowned psychiatrist Stanley Banks testified that he had examined Walker and felt that an appropriate course of action would be to commit him for a period of one year, with a further course of action to be determined at the end of the year.

The judge agreed took only a few minutes to reach his decision.

“At this moment, I feel that it would be in the best interest of Mr. Walker if he were to be under careful observation. I am committing Mr. Walker to the Lennox Estates Home for the Mentally Ill. His confinement will be at the discrection of Dr. Stanley Banks. Until and unless Mr. Walker is deemed to be mentally competent to handle his own affairs, Sascha Walker shall be granted durable power of attorney.”

Joe could barely contain his excitement when they arrived at Lennox. Joe was duly processed, and Carlton Joseph Walker became the newest resident of the east wing. He embraced Sascha, and she promised to visit at least once a month. After his wife left, Joe got to work, actively blending into the population.

TO BE CONTINUED …

There was a special energy inside the Thomas and Mack center in Las Vegas. The finals had come down to one ride. Defending champion Ty Morris needed a score of 91 in the short go to repeat as champion. Morris had a history of rising to the occasion, and the crowd was eagerly anticipating a great performance.

Morris was atop Crash Course in the bucking chute. His secured his grip on the rope, gritted his teeth, and gave the signal. The chute opened, and Crash Course exploded out of the enclosure and into the arena. Morris felt the fury of three quarters of a ton of bovine anger as the bull immediately attempted to buck him off. Morris easily retained his perch, but knew that the worst was yet to come. Crash Course had been named bucking bull of the year on two occasions and had already clinched the award for this year. The bull had a mean streak a mile wide and struck fear in the hearts of some of the riders.

After two quick steps, Crash Course leaped into the air, and Ty felt his hat go flying. He felt his body rise slightly into the air as Crash Course returned to terra firma with a jolt. Ty flopped forward before righting himself. He could feel intense pain in his back – the landing had aggravated the inflamed disc. Ty had to block out the pain and focus on the task at hand, as Crash Course executed a tight, quick spin that nearly made Ty lose his lunch. This was a hell of a bull – if he going to have a shot at scoring 91, this was the bull to ride.

The bull bellowed with frustration, angered by the fact that Ty was still aboard. He quickly spun in the other direction. Ty remembered this move from his last ride on Crash Course, and was able to shift his body in anticipation of the spin.

The angry bull once again showed off his vertical leap, and once again Ty popped slightly out of his seat but was able to stay aboard. Once again, incredible pain shot through his entire back as bull and rider returned to earth.

Crash Course quickly spun to the right. Once again, Ty readied himself for next spin in the opposite direction. True to form, Crash Course began his spin to the left. Before completing the spin, the bull quickly reversed course again and spun back to the right. Ty was caught by surprise – the spin left was a fake. He tried to compensate but felt his body sliding too far off center. Crash Course leaped into the air one final time, this time returning to the ground sans rider.

Ty Morris landed on the ground with a thud. He landed almost entirely on his back and felt an explosion of pain. This time the pain didn’t just shoot through his back, but spread to his entire body. From his position on the dirt, he saw Crash Course romp triumphantly out of the arena. Ty struggled to his feet, pointed in the direction of the arena’s exit chute as a way of recognizing the bull’s fine performance, and set about the task of finding his hat.

For whatever reason, part 1 isn’t showing up in the table of contents. To start from the beginning, go here.

Jaymi watched the calendar for the next two weeks, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the 14th. After what seemed like an eternity, the day finally arrived. There was an extra skip in her step when she arrived at work that afternoon. Toward the end of the evening, Ray’s rig pulled into the parking lot, and he hopped out. Once again, Jaymi offered to make him supper at home, and Ray sipped coffee while the waited for closing time to arrive. Ray helped out with a few of the tasks at closing time, and they headed back to Jaymi’s house.

Jaymi had started a pot roast in the crock pot earlier in the day, and it was cooked to perfection when they arrived. The two of them sat at the kitchen table, enjoying the pot roasts and talking about the events that had shaped their lives in the last couple of weeks.

After eating, they went into a living room and flipped on the TV, which was featuring a movie that both of them had seen before. They each settled into an easy chair and mixed conversation in with the movie viewing. After a while, Jaymi began to notice that the conversation starting to become quite one-sided, and Ray’s responses gradually became less coherent. Eventually, he lapsed into complete silence, and Jaymi realized that he had fallen asleep. She nudged him into a somewhat awakened state, assisted him into bed, and tucked him in for the night. This guy was tired.

Ray and Jaymi spent a lazy morning together. They ate cereal and watched cartoons. They headed to Jaymi’s restaurant for lunch before heading to the movie theatre in the next town for a matinee. The movie was a chick flick that Jaymi had wanted to see. Ray said that he didn’t mind, and Jaymi noticed that he did seem to be enjoying the movie.

After the movie, they went to one of the better restaurants in town. They both had the same meal – ribeye medium rare, baked potato with butter and sour cream, and a house salad with French dressing. They lingered a bit over dessert, sharing a decadently chocolaty treat.

When they arrived back at Jaymi’s house, they decided to relax with the nice, friendly, competitive game of Scrabble. The game was neck and neck until the very end, when Ray played “dowagers” on a quadruple word square to put the game out of reach. Jaymi threw the rest of her tiles at him in mock frustration, ceding the game to him. Ray ducked and managed to avoid most of the letters, but a Q smacked him squarely in the head. He laughed and put the pieces back into the box.

Jaymi took Ray to bed with her that night. Meaning that they slid under the covers and watched Saturday Night Live together. On this night, it was Jaymi who fell asleep first, just a few minutes after Seth and Amy had brought them Weekend Update. When Ray noticed that she was asleep, he flipped off the TV and turned off the lamp. Soon he too was asleep.

The next morning, Jaymi drove Ray to the restaurant, where he would be jumping back into his truck and heading down the road. When Ray went to grab his bag, he noticed an extraneous bag in the trunk next to it. Ray was fairly certain that he did not own a bright pink duffel bag.

“What’s the extra bag for?” Ray asked.

“Take me along.”

Ray laughed. “I can’t. You can’t take off work.”

“Sure I can,” replied Jaymi. “I cleared it with the boss. I’m on vacation until the 22nd.”

“Oh, I see. So this was all part of your master plan.”

Jaymi nodded and hopped up in the cab.

This is the second part of a three part story.  Catch the conclusion tomorrow.

“Sit down, relax, and watch some TV. I’ll whip up some vittles for you. Burgers OK?”

“Yeah, burgers would be great” replied Ray, and he sank into the comfortable easy chair. He flipped the TV on to ESPN and watched highlights of the games from earlier in the day. It seemed like just a minute had passed before Jaymi appeared at his side, holding a plate with two burgers.

“Hey, you made one with American cheese and one with Swiss,” he remarked. “I like that.”

Jaymi grinned. “Well, you switch back and forth between the two, so I figured I’d give you both. I’m afraid I don’t have any coffee – would you like a Pepsi instead?”

“That would be great. Caffeine is caffeine!”

Jaymi disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a tall glass of Pepsi.

“Hey, you can change the channel to something else,” said Ray.

“No, you go ahead and watch whatever you like. I can watch TV any time.”

“I can’t thank you enough for this. It’s so nice to be inside an actual home for once. This is so much cozier than any restaurant. I definitely owe you a big favor.”

Jaymi laughed. “You supply me with an unending array of books. I think you’re ahead on points.”

“I am simply your humble librarian” replied Ray, with a smile.

When Ray finished the second burger, Jaymi whisked away the plate and put it in the dishwasher.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to be a bit of a party pooper,” Ray said with a yawn. “This has been an incredibly long day and I’m dead tired.”

“No need to apologize. Let me show you to your room.”

Ray grabbed his bag and followed Jaymi down a narrow hallway. There were two doors at the end of the hallway. Jaymi opened the door on the right.

“Here you go – one nice, soft bed. There are some extra blankets and pillows in the closet. Let me know if you need anything. I’m right across the hall. Oh, yeah – we just passed the bathroom. It’s the other door on the right.”

“Thanks. I should be all set. I do appreciate the hospitality.”

Ray brushed his teeth, climbed under the blankets, and was asleep a few minutes later.

He awoke in the morning and heard noises coming from the kitchen. The noises sounded an awful lot like bacon and eggs frying. Ray climbed out of bed, threw on some clothes, and followed his nose to the kitchen. Jaymi was overseeing bacon and eggs on the stove. She had obviously just stepped out of the shower – she was wearing a pink robe and slippers, and her hair was still damp. Ray noticed that she smelled quite nice.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” she said, turning to face him. “I thought you’d like a nice hot breakfast before you had to hit the road.”

“You’re going to spoil me, Jaymi. Not that I’m complaining.”

Jaymi grabbed a plate, slid two eggs and several slices of juicy bacon onto the plate, and placed it in front of Ray. The toaster popped, and Jaymi grabbed the two slices of toast, butter, and silverware and returned to the table. She sat down across from Ray.

“You’re not eating?” asked Ray. “I can share.”

“No, that’s OK. I don’t usually eat breakfast. It’s fun to watch you eat.”

As Ray devoured the bacon and eggs, he wondered if perhaps the restaurant was not making the best use of Jaymi’s natural skills. It seemed that she was actually a better cook than whoever was actually in the kitchen.

When he finished breakfast, Jaymi had a fresh towel ready for him. He went into the bathroom to take a shower while she went into her bedroom to change into clothes that were more appropriate for the outside world.

Ray turned the water to a near-scalding temperature and soaked in the soothing heat. The showers at the truck stops were usually lukewarm, and it was nice to take a hot shower for once.

When Ray was finished with the shower, he went back to the guest bedroom ad changed into jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers for the long day ahead. He gathered his minimal possessions, put them in his duffel bag, and zipped it. He took the bag into the living room and settled into the easy chair to wait for Jaymi to appear, so that she could drop him off at the restaurant.

A few minutes later, Jaymi pulled the car into the parking lot. Ray grabbed his bag and they headed toward his truck.

“We should do this again. Maybe you could take a day off the next time you’re in town and we could have a real date.”

“I’d like that,” replied Ray. “Let me grab my schedule and see when I’ll be back in town next.” He jumped into the cab and grabbed a notebook. “It looks like the 14th, and then again on the 21st. I think I can take off the 15th.”

“Sounds great.” Jaymi climbed up next to Ray for a second and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll see you on the 14th.”

Editor’s note: Sometimes, the writer is not in control of a story. This story was supposed to be a simple 500-700 word story for Fiction Friday. The characters, however, refused to go away quite so quickly, insisting on a longer story … which is why this story ended up being 2000 words. Catch part 1 today, part 2 tomorrow, and the conclusion on Sunday.

“Whatcha reading?”

Ray looked up to find the waitress smiling at him. He held the book up for her to see.

“Ah, the latest book by Martin Kelly. I love his stuff. How do you like this one?”

“It’s pretty good,” replied Ray. “In fact, I have just a few pages left. I’ll leave it behind for you to read, if you want.’

“I’d like that,” replied Jaymi with a smile. “You could pick it up the next time you come through town.”

Ray was about to tell her that she could keep the book, since he usually stopped for a bite at the truck stop ten miles to the east, and was only eating at this hole in the wall because the other place for closed for remodeling. Then he thought the better of it. He realized that he really wouldn’t mind seeing Jaymi again.

Ray had a burger and fries before deciding to prolong his stay by ordering a slice of pie. Jaymi topped it with a generous scoop of vanilla ice cream – on the house. Reluctantly, Ray was forced to leave – the road beckoned, and he needed to get his load delivered. He tipped his waitress generously and left behind the book.

Ray made a conscious effort to be finished with his next book before he was scheduled to drive through Springfield again. He ignored the previous truck stop that had been his regular haunt, and ate at the restaurant where Jaymi worked. She seemed pleased to see him. They swapped books – Ray receiving his previous book back and Jaymi receiving a fresh new book to read. After the only other customer in the restaurant left, Jaymi pulled off her apron and sat at across the table from him, and they discussed the plot of Martin Kelly’s book.

Each time Ray drove through Springfield, he’d leave behind a new book and retrieve the previous one. He was quickly becoming Jaymi’s personal bookmobile – but he didn’t mind. A friendship began to grow. Their conversations at first focused on the books that they shared, but eventually spread to many other topics. Ray would share tales from the road, and Jaymi would talk about the people she met in the restaurant.

One night, he pulled into the restaurant a mere twenty minutes before closing time. Jaymi greeted him with her trademark smile.

“How are you, Ray? You look a little tired.”

“Yeah, it’s been a very long day. Once I get a hot meal, I’m going straight back to the truck to grab a good night’s sleep.”

“You know,” commented Jaymi, “I have a spare bedroom. I bet it would feel good to sleep on a real bed for once. And I’m not a half bad cook. If you want to hang around until I get off work at 10, we can go to my place and I could make something for you.”

Ray grinned. “That sounds like a great idea. I’ll just have a coffee.”

Jaymi poured a cup of high test caffeinated coffee from the pot and busied herself with end of day work while Ray enjoyed his hot drink. A half hour later, they pulled up in front of Jaymi’s house – a modest, but well maintained ranch.

This is the conclusion of the story that was started yesterday.  Please be warned – this story is a marked departure from yesterday and is intended for mature audiences only!

Note: this story was written before Thursday football games were played and do not reflect the outcome of the real games.

Erin gently shook Kevin to wake him.

“Kevin! It’s time to get started.”

Kevin hopped up from his easy chair and walked to the closet. He returned with ropes. He bound Tom’s hands and feet together while Erin secured Kate in a similar fashion.

Erin returned to the kitchen and pushed aside a fake wall, exposing two large hidden compartments. She pushed open the two large doors before joining Kevin back in the living room. Kevin had sliced off Tom’s clothing, leaving the man as naked as when he entered the world. As Kevin hefted Tom’s body and took the first few halting steps toward the kitchen, Erin grabbed the knife and cut Kate’s clothing so that it could also be easily removed. A minute later, Kevin returned, grabbed Kate’s still-slumbering form, and made another trip to the kitchen.

Kevin slid Kate onto the grate and closed the door, locking it into place. He hit the button to activate the wash cycle. Tom and Kate were bathed with pulses of water, cleansing their skin perfectly. Kevin hit the button to activate the next cycle.

Tom began to regain his consciousness a bit. He was certain that he was smelling a very strong scent of butter. Butter? Where was that smell coming from? Three seconds later, Tom felt his body be assaulted with streams of hot, liquid butter. What the hell? The wine was having a very strong effect on Tom, but he was slowly coming to the realization that something was very wrong. He realized that he was flat on his back, with his hands and feet tied together. He was trussed up like a pig! There was something in his mouth. He couldn’t place the flavor at first, but soon realized that it was an apple. He felt the room slowly start to heat up and came to the realization that he was being cooked alive!

Tom tried to scream, but was unable to dislodge the apple. He struggled against his bonds, but could make no progress. He was wedged tightly into the oven and had limited mobility. Before long, Tom had been overcome by the heat.

“Go watch the game,” said Erin, giving Kevin a kiss. “Things are under control in here. It will be several hours before supper is ready.”

Kevin plopped down in front of the TV just as the second half was beginning. The Packers had fallen behind 21-0 in the first half, but this was not to be a good day for Tom’s golden boy, Matthew Stafford. Stafford threw four interceptions in the second half, lost a fumble, and was sacked four times. Kevin laughed at the meltdown of the rookie quarterback. Tom really didn’t know shit about football.

After the Packers had win the first game of the day and the Cowboys had steamrolled to a win in the second game of the day, it was time for supper.

When Kevin got to the kitchen, Erin had his plate ready for him. A big helping of potatoes, corn, stuffing, and gravy, along with a big chunk of drumstick a la Tom. On her own plate, Erin had a smaller bit of Tom’s leg, as well as a bit of white meat from Kate.

“I always did think turkey was a bit overrated.”

Welcome to a special, holiday edition of Fiction Friday.  This is a two part story.  While today’s installment is pretty normal, many people are likely to find tomorrow’s conclusion disturbing.  You have been warned …

“Oh, Kate, you didn’t have to bring anything,” said Erin, as she gave her friend a kiss on the cheek.

“Oh, it’s just a pumpkin pie. You and Kevin prepared the rest of the food – this is just a token of our appreciation.”

“Well, we definitely appreciate it,” chimed in Kevin. “Pumpkin pie is my favorite. Let me grab your coats. Dinner is ready to be served.”

Kevin hung up the coats while Kate and Tom followed Erin to the kitchen. The smell of turkey, stuffing, corn, and potatoes wafted through the air.

“Everything smells so good. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday of the year. What’s not a like about a national eating holiday?” laughed Tom.

Their hostess grabbed the carving knife. “What part of the turkey do you like, Tom?” she asked.

“I’m a leg man.” Tom held his plate out, and Erin slid a juicy drumstick onto it.

The four friends took their places around the table and began passing around bowls of food. Kevin took a large portion of mashed potatoes, topped the mound with stuffing and corn, and poured a river of gravy over the top. Tom grabbed two slices of Erin’s famous corn bread, and Kate served herself an extra large portion of the delicious cranberries. Erin herself appeared to play no favorite – she took equal portions of each dish – to the point of taking some of the white meat and some of the dark.

The foursome began their feast, and a pleasant silence enveloped the room, punctuated only by the sounds of chewing and an occasional burp. During the second helping, the eating began to slow a bit, and conversation resumed.

“Stafford’s going to light up the Packers,” proclaimed Tom, in between bites of turkey.

Kevin smiled politely. This was not the time to stoke and argument about the relative strengths of the Packers and Lions. Tom was a complete moron for believing that Detroit was on the same level with Green Bay. In the grand scheme of things, it really didn’t matter very much, though.

“He definitely had a good week against Cleveland. We’ll see if he can maintain that sort of momentum. Rookie quarterbacks can hit some bumps in the road.”

“This isn’t just any rookie,” exclaimed his friend. “This is Matthew effing Stafford, number one draft pick in the whole world.”

Erin interrupted Tom’s idol worship. “Does anyone have room for a slice of Kate’s pie?”

In spite of the large meal, everyone seemed to have just enough room for one slice of pumpkin pie. Tom loosened his belt a notch while Erin popped up from her chair. She returned to the table with the pumpkin pie, as well as a container of Cool Whip.

“Awesome,” said Tom. “There’s nothing better than pumpkin pie with Cool Whip.”

After everyone had finished their pie, Erin began to collect the dishes. Kate stood up the help her while the guys headed to the living room to watch football.

“It’s under control, Kate. I’ll handle the dishes. You can go watch the game.”

Kate put up a feeble protest before joined the men in front of the big screen TV. By the time that Kate had finished the dishes, all three were sound asleep, thanks to the turkey and wine.

TO BE CONTINUED …

My name is Dollar Bill. You can call me Bill. Like most of my family, I was born in the Philadelphia mint. I remember it like it was yesterday. At birth, I was attached to my siblings in a sheet. We were sliced apart and sent to a federal reserve bank. I was sent to Chicago.

Shortly after my arrival in Chicago, I ended up at Wrigley Field. I couldn’t see the game, because of my obstructed seat in the cash register. I could hear the crack of the bat and the excitement of the crowd. I loved my new home.

In the middle of the fourth inning, I was given to a man in change after he purchased two foot long hot dogs, nachos, and two large Cokes. I was hoping that he would share some of the foot with me, but he didn’t. After the game, we left the ballpark and went to the man’s home.

I received a crash course in life at this point. The man was addicted to cocaine, and the crisp new $1 bill (that would be me, Bill) was his instrument of choice for snorting his cocaine. The cocaine gave me awful headaches, and my brilliant green skin became speckled with white spots.

After several weeks, I became depressed at the prospect of living the rest of my life this way. Fortunately, I fell out of favor with the drug user. My body lost some of its firmness, and he found another bill that was still crisp and new. I disappeared into a pop machine when the druggie bough a Pepsi. I sighed with relief. I had escaped.

I chilled out in the pop machine for a few days. It was great to be away from the dealer and his drug parties. The relative silence of the pop machine was a welcome change.

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, I was living in the cash register at a used book store. It was a pretty cool place to live – the guy who ran the place loved to talk about books with all the customers. Before long, though, it was time to move on once again. An older gentleman bought a slightly used copy of Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and received me as part of his change.

I got to meet the guy’s grandson the next day. The kid is pretty cool. He’s learning how to ride his bike, and he’s taking a few tumbles along the way. He always gets right up and jumps back on the bike, though. Resilient little fellow. The grandpa was proud of the kid’s efforts and gave him a dollar to put in his piggy bank. Not just any dollar – but me!

Now I’m sitting in Billy’s piggy bank. Billy’s mom tells him that he needs to save up all of his money for a trip to Disney World. I’m very excited – I’ve never been to Disney World. I can’t wait to meet Mickey Mouse!

This was a losing entry in last Friday’s fiction contest at One Minute Writer..Cool site – check it out.

Roger Fox consulted his watch by the light of the waxing moon. It was nearly time for the rendezvous. His brothers – Travis, Peter, and Zamphir – would be approaching from the other three directions. Roger girded up his loins and prepared for the battle.

The odds were against the Fox brothers. The fort was defended by eighty five members of the enemy platoon. For this reason, the attack had been planned for 1:17 AM – a time at which few creatures within the enemy camp would be stirring.

Roger’s ear picked up a sound wafting through the air. It was the musical whistle of his brother Zamphir. The time had come. The battle had been joined.

Roger raced quickly and stealthily toward the west flank of the fortress. A sentry was on duty, as had been predicted by the advanced scouting party. Roger attacked quickly, leaving the bloody corpse on the ground. He heard sounds of struggle to his left, right, and straight ahead. His brothers were dispatching the other sentries with similar ease. None of the sentries had raised the alarm. The camp was oblivious that the imminent attack.

Roger burst through a window, sending glass flying in all directions. Travis, Peter, and Zamphir came flying in from the other three directions and landed near him in the middle of the fortress. The enemy began to awake, aware that something was very wrong in their protected environment.

The Fox brothers quickly attacked and scored kills on enemy soldiers. Within minutes, seventeen of the enemy lay dead on the floor. At that point, the battle became much more difficult. Feathers began to fly, obscuring the vision of the Fox brothers. The hens began to fix back, scratching gashes into the Foxes with their sharp claws and drawing blood with their beaks. The battle had begun in earnest.

Roger and his brothers fought back with their weapons of choice – their razor sharp teeth. This was turning into a battle to the death – kill or be killed. Roger jumped onto the back of one hen and sank his teeth into its juicy neck. He ripped a chunk of flesh from the hen and consumed the meat as the hen dropped to the floor.

Fifteen minutes later, the bloodbath was complete. A handful of the hens had climbed out the small windows and had flown, haltingly, away from the battle in the henhouse. Those hens formed themselves into a circle to provide common defense.

The Fox brothers would not be seeking any further conflict on this night, however. The four Foxes had killed seventy four members of the hated hen clan. Each of the brothers had suffered significant wounds at the hands of their enemies, and the group would retreat to their den in recuperate and ready themselves for the next attack.

Daniel had tossed and turned all night and was greatly annoyed when the alarm clock rang out its morning greeting.  He jumped into the shower to be greeted with a blast of arctic water.  The stupid water heater was acting up again.  Daniel made an effort to restrain himself and cursed under his breath, rather than aloud.

After showering and getting dressed, Daniel ducked his head outside to grab the morning paper.  The dumb dog from next door had already found the paper already.  The dog had pooped on the paper again.  It frustrated Daniel to no end when people were unable to pick up after their dogs.

Daniel was going to have to eat breakfast without the morning paper.  He ducked his head inside the fridge to find the milk.  It was nowhere to be found.  He was certain that there had been a nearly full gallon in the refrigerator yesterday morning.  Daniel glanced around the kitchen and spied the milk in the table.  It had been left out overnight.  He dumped the milk down the drain and resigned himself to a breakfast of Pepsi and M&Ms at work.

Daniel jumped in the car and stopped at a convenience store to grab a cup of coffee to serve as a pick-me-up until he had some breakfast in his stomach.  He entered the highway within minutes was stuck in a traffic gridlock – the effect of an accident several miles ahead.  Twenty minutes later, traffic had finally returned to normal.  Daniel hit the accelerator and was quickly up to 70 mph.  He was very happy to put the frustration of the traffic jam behind him.

Daniel was five miles away from work when he felt an odd sensation – moments before the tire blew out.  His coffee went flying out of his hand and spilled all over his pants.  Daniel cursed – aloud this time – as he pulled the car over to the side of the road.  He popped the trunk, pulled out the jack, and began to change the tire.

The monkeys at the service station had tightened the lug nuts insanely tight, and Daniel had difficulty getting them loose.  He jacked up the car with the wimpy little scissors jack from the car.  He wasn’t sure that he trusted the jack to hold the weight of the car.  Ten minutes later, Daniel had managed to change the tire, and was back on the highway.

Daniel had barely stepped into the office when he ran into his boss.

“Johnson!” Growled his boss.  “You’re late.  We start worked here at 7, not 7:30.”

“I know, boss,” Daniel replied.  “I ran into a traffic jam, and then had a flat tire.”

“Well, stop yapping your gums and get to your desk!  There’s work that needs to be done!”

Daniel went straight to his desk, not wanting to risk the wrath of the boss by detouring for candy and caffeine.

Daniel ran into trouble at every step during the day.  Despite his best efforts, none of the numbers were jiving, and the boss needed the data for a report the next day.  The report preparation that typically took an hour ending up consuming the entire day.  Daniel had hoped to spend his lunch hour getting a new tire put on the car, but instead was working at his desk.  The M&Ms and Pepsi that he intended to eat for breakfast became his lunch instead.

The day mercifully came to and end, and Daniel jumped into the car for the ride home.  Traffic was bumper to bumper, and it took an hour to cover the thirty miles.  As neared home, he remembered that it was his night to pick up Alyssa, and he veered onto the exit at the last moment.

Daniel entered the two year old room at the day car center, and Alyssa saw him from across the room.

“Daddy!” she screamed.  She raced across the room and latched onto his leg.  “I love you, daddy!”

It had been a good day.