I: Welcome President Gore. We've made quite a commotion in the world today. Thank you for speaking with us this evening.

G: Thanks for that, I'm sure you be glad to have me explain my thoughts on Global Warming.

I: Yes, we've all read your book and we've all seen your movie. And we've all knocked a few chads about in your honor.

G: Well, yes, you joke, but seriously, I did win that election.

I: Yes, Mr President, we know.

G: May I just start off by saying that the world is about to experience a horrendous wrath at the hands of mother nature. Something more wicked and vile than anything ever witnessed by mankind.

I: Oh boy, you mean more atrocious than World War I or World War II? The holocaust; The Third Punic War; The Caucasian War.

G: Yes, Yes, Yes! Untold millions, billions even.

I: Billions, Sir? Billions?

G: Yes, billions and billions, like the stars in the sky.

I: Why, isn't that nearly half the human population?

G: Is it that many? Wow. It is worse than I thought. And all because we want to drive our gas sucking cars and eat our methane puffing beef. Come on!

I: Well. Well, I must say, this is quite disturbing. How, How exactly will we meet our bitter end, as it were.

G: Floods, floods and fires. Fires and storms. Floods, fires and storms! Nature will turn a just hand against our evil deeds. She will lash out at our greedy and slovenly ways. We've disrespected her. We've failed our planet.

I: My, Oh M, My. When will these floods strike?

G: Oh, soon, my friend. Very soon.

I: Can't we just kind of move back from the sea a bit. Evacuate toward the rear, as they say.

G: No. No! Tidal waves will be crashing down the streets of New York City. Haven't you seen the movie, man. Taxi cabs will be flung spinning toward the camera. But the scary part is, there will no longer be a camera. No one can escape the ire of our planets supreme godness. Our mother.

I: Why, that's dreadful indeed. No city, no cameras. What about iPhones? Will there be iPhones.

G: Actually, my company is about to launch the new iGreen in December. Just in time for Christmas. It is environmentally friendly, with a low carbon footprint and guaranteed to withstand the first two floods or a single fire and quake.

I: Why that's wonderful.

(more later)

One Day

I was pretty hungary. Having spent all my money and knowing the kitchen would be locked up for the weekend, I decided to wander in anyway. I had nothing better to do. The lights were off, but it was a bright day and the side wall was all windows, bringing in plenty of sunshine. Not expecting to see anyone, I was surprised when I saw Mark over by one of the steal counters. I wasn't that surprised and I was somewhat curious what he was up to.

Mark looked at me and smiled his wicked smile. He was a tall drink of water with unruly brown hair that always appear different for some reason. Most of the time Mark had on jeans without a shirt. If he did wear a shirt, it would be a T-Shirt with some obscure saying or bizzard image on the front. Occationally, he would wear a polo shirt with a small whole wear the little icon is usually seen. This morning Mark was shirtless.

I looked to the counter and noticed the assortment of food he was preparing. Mark told me that the refrigerators were chain locked, but that he could open the doors far enough to get a hand in. Grabbing the items he could reach he was able to get some processed cheese and ketchup. The bread was kept on top of the counter, unlocked. He had two openface cheese and ketchup sandwiches on the counter and offered me one. I decided I wasn't all the hungary and pulled out a piece of bread as the microwave beeped.

Mark opened the microwave and pulled out what I at first thought was a cup of loose leaf tea. I then noticed the stems and seeds and realized it was a hot cup of weed. Mark was always trying interesting things. We walked out of the kitchen and past the coke machine which was usually stocked with various types of beer. Mark reached down to the drop area and began to stick his whole hand up intot the compartment. He handed me his sandwich, then got on his knees and continued to pry and wiggle until his arm came out with a beer. He asked me if I wanted one and I had no reason to turn him down.

We sat outside on the grass and ate our breakfast and drank our beer. Mark suddenly popped up and told me he'd be right back. I sat in the grass and looked up toward the clear bright morning sky. I felt like it was going to be a beautiful day. That's about the only thought I had in my head.

Down the road I could make out a biker heading toward me. I watched as he approached and soon realized it was Ray. Ray was a happy sort of fellow who rode his bike in an ackward, unatheletic manner. When he saw me he smiled and said, "Good morning, fine day". I was about to say something when he turned into the entry walk and his bike slid out from under him. It happened quite fast and the next thing I knew, Ray was sliding along the ground with an odd look on his face.

I thought it was interesting that he slide so far without stopping. It came to me that the walk was recently painted with an emblem of the house and that the surface must be fairly slick. Anyway, Ray eventually stopped and I got up to give him a hand with his bike. His knee was bleeding, but he smiled at me and said he was fine. He probably just said that because he was embarassed and I was embarassed too, so I simply acted like I was fine with him saying he was fine. I smiled also, I don't know why.

Mark returned with a backgammon board and asked what had happened to Ray's knee. Ray told him that he fell, but he was fine and Mark was fine with that.

K.S. made her way down the corridor, it was not bright nor colorful, refrigerators of varying heights, with an assortment of cardboard boxes on top, lined the concrete walls. Standing still for quite some time, K.S. peered down at the scrap of paper in her hand, it read "B10 R6B16". She continued her search for the new billet; figures darted noiselessly behind the diffused glass of office doors; low murmurs came from indistinct locations. The numbers on the wall seemed to follow a sequence for a bit, then suddenly change entirely with letters added and removed. A few workers were visible through the slightly opened door in a small corner room. K.S. pushed on the door and stuck her head inside for a look. Three workers stopped all movement with papers in hand and file cabinets open; they looked over at the visitor with no perceivable expression on their collective face.

K.S. felt is was getting late

"Gang, we've gotta look sharp", Rahm roars.
Nap questions, "Look sharp? In what way?"

Circling the Wagons

"Okay gentlemen, we need to circle the wagon".
He stands to his full height and shakes his fist in the air,
"I mean we've got to pull together and fight the good fight", looking around the room he adds,
"The indians are restless, boys".
The only lady in the room looks a bit put off. The ever observant leader notices and attempts to
diffuse the comments from his number two.
"H-H-Hold-on folks, Rahm is simply speaking in metaphors". Cocking his head. "Or-or perhaps analogies". Now forcing a closed mouth grin and nodding his head. "He's being rhetorical".
Then motioning for him to sit, "Thanks Rahm".
Abruptly, the lady barks out, "Why is everyone so tense"? A glance left, then right,
"We're in control, they can't touch us, we have the power now"! Nearly shouting she seems to realize her excesses and in recompense she calmly coiffs the grey patch in her thick matte of hair.
"Than-thank you for that, Nap", interupts the chief. "Your exactly right, however. However, we do need to mine our phasology". Then looking down at the egg in his hand, "Yu, you really need to check with Rahm before speaking with the press". Then looking up pleasantly, "Appearance is everything, we don't want to disinfranchaise the entire radical half".
Jumping in, "Bam, bam, excuses me", standing up, a position he definately favors, "But we do want to divide and conquer", taking a dramatic pause, "we simply don't want to come across as divisive".
Nodding assuringly, "Rahm, that's right. That's it, exactly", now pitching to each person at the table, "it is all in the perception, remember that".

Puppy Love

The group sat around the oval table with long faces, simply focusing on the bowl of hard boiled eggs in the center. Their contemplation was shattered when the door opened suddenly held by the tall silverhaired man. He grinned, then winked like a steward greeting guest on the defunct Braniff Airlines. "Good morning Minyans! Baruch Habah!". As his smile widen the POTUS strode into the room with the same smile on his face.

He halted midway between the door and the oval table apparently taking in the group. His tense cheaks slowly dropped and his eyebrows knit. Glancing back at the taskmaster who was still holding the door knob, he cocked his head slightly and motioned toward the gathering. Taking his que, the obsequious doorman dropped his expression down to a decisive reserve and bellowed out "All Rise!".

The addle assemblage became alert, then unsure, then in a mitigating fashion they slowly rose. The High Muckamuck reforged his smile, lunged toward the table and the centerpiece, grabbing the top egg.
"Please...Please, help yourself. It's on me".

The Big Box

The little guy was struggling with a rather large box, unable to both maintain his cargo and turn the knob, he attempted to knock on the door with his forehead. A dull thud was all he could manage. The door swung open to reveal a tall, slender man with silver hair brushed back from his forehead. In a short burst of fury the man scratched out the words,
"What are you doing here with those?", as he glanced toward the box.
"That's not what I think it is, don't tell me you brought them here".
The little guy looks up with his huge, wanting eye and sputtered out with great excitement,
"They told me to take them, they told me they were important, they told me He needed them desperately"!
"He does, He does, but not here, don't bring them here"
From within the room a full throated voice pronounces,
"Wh-who is that, wh-who's there with you. L-Let the man in. Come on and, come on and join us now."
With contempt in his voice the sentinel objects, "Sir, certainly, but he brought the votes with him. He has them right here, right now."
"That, that's, that's fine, that's okay. These, these, these are our votes. We earned them. We deserve them. There's, there's no shame in that", came the broken, yet confident response from within.
"Come on in and, and join us in a rum and coke, my little friend", the voice continued.