usVerse: The Unfinished Sentence-Verse # 7

Tom Russell milos_parker at yahoo.com
Wed May 24 08:32:03 PDT 2006


THE UNFINISHED SENTENCE-VERSE # 7
BY TOM RUSSELL

He decided that he would have to be careful about when he indulged in a
meaningful flashback.  In the interim between the start of the
flashback and its sweet, luscious end, the others had apparently made
the important decision between Cyborg Gorilla Hemingway and Shakespeare
without him.

"Forsooth!" said Shakespeare after a trans-dimensional portal had
swallowed the raft, "Bwahahahaheehoha!"

"That's not true iambic pentameter!" said the old woman clad in bikini
and weilding cigar.  "Which means... you're not really Shakespeare!"

"You may have found me out," snarled the faux bard of avon, "but it is
too late now!  For you are now in the clutches of... Shaka Zulu!"

He started to pull at the Shakespearean costume and face mask with one
hand, as he pulled out a long impaling spear with the other.

"What are we going to do?" lamented the nun.

"Rodilla!" said the raft.

This reminded the Viking Gila Monster of an earlier point in his life,
when (for a brief and shameful moment) he voted for Reagan.

It wasn't really his fault: Reaganomics made sense to him at the time,
gas prices were soaring, and, most importantly of all, there was a bear
in the woods, damn it!  A god damn bear!

And if there was one thing the Viking Gila Monster was afraid of...

If there was one thing that could be construed as being his only
weakness... it was bears!  Especially bears in the god-damn woods!

He shuddered, and this was enough to jog him out of his
psuedo-flashback.

Again, he cursed himself for indulging in a flashback at an inopportune
moment.  For now, Shaka Zulu was gone.  So were the Viking Gila
Monster's strange companions.

He was no longer on a raft floating in some interdimensional portal, or
even on a raft floating in some tempest-toss'd sea.  No.

He was on a stationary raft, in the middle of the woods, surrounded by
three bears.  Porridge dripped from their snouts as they inched closer,
closer, closer.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the




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