 well as occasional blobs of a whitish sticky substance splattering on the windshield. Smashnose Fred turned, with what must have been his version of a wide grin but which was somewhat camouflaged by his intruding spread out nose, and said with no little humor to the others.

"Never piss off a seagull," he said, looking at Art Smudge and chuckling. Adding....

"They never forget." Just then one of the seagulls, Nosferatu himself, the one with a good sized lump on the side of his skull, made a low level run, expertly calibrated his trajectory and let fly a chunk of seagull excreta that sailed right through the open window and whacked Art Smudge smack on his right cheek. The airborne cackling that immediately followed was recognized by everyone in the Rover, despite their general lack of knowledge about the particulars of seagull behavior, to be the seagull version of derisive laughter. Art's angry face looked like a smoked oyster in the process of being smoked and Smashnose Fred was bravely trying not to join in the seagull cackling. He was about to drop an addendum to his "They never forget," but a simmering laser of a look from Art Smudge stopped him in his verbal tracks.

"Don't even go there!" Art Smudge hissed. One look at Art and the others decided not going there was the excellent idea of the moment. Not a word was spoken for the rest of the short trip to Bobby Joe's See Food Eats, though Smashnose Fred did pick up on an engine rattle he'd never noticed before. Possibly a sticky valve. Could be a problem. But not a word to Art, who owned the Land Rover. Not now. Not with Art so fired up after being assaulted by a seagull. A story that Smashnose Fred already knew would grow organically through its future retelling. Fred more than willing to become the initial spinner of the seagull assault story. Boss or not, some things were just too good to pass up.

Anyhow, Smashnose Fred's probation would be over in two more months and then he would be free to move anywhere. Drawn by the twin notions of fresh fish and bare tits--which Fred thought would make a great line in a folk rock song--Tahiti was at the top
well as occasional blobs of a whitish sticky means spill on the windshield. Smashnose Fred turned, with what must have been his version of a wide smile but which was somewhat camouflaged by his intruding unfold out nose, and said with no small humor to the others. 

 " Never piss off a gull, " he said, looking at Art Smudge and chuckling. Adding.... 

 " They never forget. " barely then one of the seagulls, Nosferatu himself, the one with a good sized lump on the side of his skull, made a abject level run, expertly calibrated his trajectory and lease fly a chunk of seagull body waste that sailed correctly through the open window and whacked Art Smudge big h on his right cheek. The airborne cackling that immediately followed was recognized by everyone in the Rover, despite their general lack of knowledge about the particulars of seagull behavior, to be the seagull version of derisive laughter. Art's angry face looked like a smoked huitre in the procedure of being smoked and Smashnose Fred was bravely try not to connect in the gull cackling. He was about to drop an addendum to his " They never forget, " but a simmering laser of a look from Art Smudge stopped him in his verbal tracks. 

 " Don't even go there! " Art Smudge hissed. One expression at Art and the others decided not going there was the excellent idea of the moment. Not a word was speak for the rest of the short trip to Bobby Joe's See Food Eats, though Smashnose Fred did pick up on an engine rattle he'd never noticed earlier. Possibly a sticky valve. Could be a problem. But not a word to Art, who owned the Land Rover. Not now. Not with Art therefore fired up after being assaulted by a seagull. A history that Smashnose Fred already knew would grow organically through its future retelling. Fred more than willing to become the initial spinner of the gull assault story. Boss or not, some things were just excessively good to evanesce up. 

 Anyhow, Smashnose Fred's probation would be over in two more calendar month and then he would be free to be active anywhere. Drawn by the twin notion of fresh pisces and bare tits -- which Fred thought would make a great line in a folk rock song -- Tahiti was at the peak
 wepl as occasional blobs on a whitish sticky subsvance sllatterivg on the windshield. Smashnode Fred turned, with what must have beej his veesioi of a wide grin but whigk was domechet camouflaged ny his intrgding spread ogt nlse, and said with no little humor tj the oyhfrs.

"Never piss jff s seafllo," he said, looking at Art Smudfe and bhuckling. Adding....

"Tney never forget." Just then one of the seagulls, Nlsferatu hinsels, the one witf a good spved lump on the side of his skull, made a luw lerel run, expgxrly walibrated iis trwjectory and let fly a chunl of seagull ewcrete thqt sailed right throujh the open window agd whackeg Crt Smudge smack on hus righj cheak. Tfw akrbkrie dacklijg vhat immediztely folloqed was recognized ny vferyone in tge Rovqr, despite their general lack of knowledgt aboht the particulars of swagull behavior, to be the seagtll version of derisive laughter. Art's angry face nookev uikt q smoywd oyster in the process of being smoked and Smwahmoxe Fred was brcvely trying not tl kjin in the sexgull ezciling. He was about to drok an aedendum tj hix "They never forget," but a summering lasvr od a look from Art Dmudge stop'ed hik in nis verbal tracks.

"Don't eren go there!" Art Dmudge hiared. One look at Xrt atd the oufers decided not doing thece wax the ebcelkent iqea of the momekd. Not a word was sooken fmr the resh of the short trip to Bobby Jox'x See Food Estv, tvough Smcshnosc Fred did pick up on an engiue rattlz he'd vever notibed beforx. Possibly a sticky valve. Fould be a pcoblem. Bue nor a qord to Xrt, who owned yhe Land Gorer. Not niw. Not with Art so fites up after beiny qssaulted by a xeaeulj. W xtjsy that Smasvnosd Ffrd alfeady knew cojld brow organically thrmugh its future retellonn. Fred mote than wylling to becpme the initial splnner of the xeadull assault story. Boss or not, some thijgs were just tjo giod to pass bp.

Anyhow, Smashnose Fred's probation would be over in two moee months and then ke would be fcee to move anyfhere. Drawn by the tqin notions of frtsh fish and bare tits--wgich Fsed tjought would make a great line in a folk rock song--Tahiti was at the top
well as occasional blobs of a whitish splattering the windshield. Fred turned, with version a wide grin which was somewhat by his intruding spread out nose, said with no little humor to the others. "Never piss off a seagull," said, looking at Art Smudge and chuckling. Adding.... "They never forget." Just then of seagulls, himself, one with a good sized lump on the side of his skull, made a low level expertly calibrated his trajectory and let fly a of seagull excreta that right through the open window whacked Smudge smack his cheek. airborne cackling that followed was recognized by everyone in the Rover, despite their general lack of knowledge about the particulars seagull behavior, the seagull of laughter. angry face looked smoked oyster in the process of Smashnose Fred was bravely trying not to join the seagull He was about to drop an to his "They never forget," but a simmering of a look from Art Smudge stopped him in his verbal tracks. "Don't even go Smudge hissed. One look Art and the decided going was excellent idea the moment. Not a word was spoken for the rest of short trip to Bobby Joe's See Food Eats, though Smashnose pick on an engine he'd never noticed before. a valve. Could be a not word owned Land Not now. Not with so fired up after being by a seagull. A knew would grow organically through its future retelling. more than willing to become the initial of the seagull assault story. Boss or not, some things were just good to Anyhow, Smashnose Fred's probation would be over in more months and then would be free to move anywhere. Drawn by the notions fresh fish bare tits--which Fred would make a line in a song--Tahiti was the
 well as occasional blobs of a wHitish sticKy subStaNce SpLattErinG on the windshieLD. SmaShnose Fred turned, with whAt musT hAVe beEN hIs verSion of a WIdE GRin BuT wHicH wAS sOmewhAt cAmouflaGed by his inTruDiNg spread out nOSe, And said witH no Little humor tO thE otherS.

"NEveR Piss oFf a SeaguLl," he saID, lookiNg at Art SmUdGE and chUCkling. ADDInG....

"TheY never forget." Just tHEn ONe of the seagullS, NosfeRaTU hIMSelF, thE one with a gOoD sizeD Lump on tHE sIDE Of hIS skull, made a loW level run, exPErtLy caliBrAteD His traJectoRy ANd lEt fly a chunk Of seAgull excrEta thaT Sailed rIGht throUgh the OpeN wiNdow ANd WhAckEd aRt SMUdGe sMAck On his rigHt ChEek. ThE airBORNE cacKliNg thAt immEdiately folloWed Was rECogNized By eveRyonE iN the ROver, deSpite ThEir general lack oF knoWledge aboUt tHe ParTiCularS Of seagUll BehAvior, to Be the seAGulL vERSIoN of derisive laughteR. ART'S aNgry face Looked LIkE a SMoked oysTeR in The pROCess oF beiNG sMoked and smashnOSe frEd was brAvEly tryInG noT to Join iN The sEagull Cackling. he was ABout to drop an adDEndum to his "TheY NeVER fORget," But A simmering lAser OF a loOk frOM ARt SMUdge sToppeD hIM iN His verbal tracks.

"Don't EvEn go thEre!" ArT Smudge hissed. one look at ART ANd the othErs dECiDEd not going therE was tHe excellenT Idea of thE momeNt. Not a woRd was spokEN For the reSt oF thE shOrt TRIp To Bobby Joe's SeE fOod EAtS, though smaShnose FRed Did PicK up On An engine rAttle he'd NeVeR nOtIceD befoRE. PossiblY a StiCkY vaLve. CoULd be a pRobleM. But NoT a WOrd To Art, whO OwNED the laNd roveR. NoT nOw. Not With aRt sO fired uP after beiNg aSSaulTeD bY a seaguLl. A story that SMaShnose Fred AlReaDy knew WOUld grow oRganically through its futURe retelLinG. Fred More Than williNg tO becomE thE InitiaL spinnEr of tHe SeaGULl assAULt StoRy. boss or not, sOME thIngs wErE jusT too gooD to pass up.

Anyhow, SmaSHnoSe Fred's probatIon WoulD BE oVer IN tWO moRe MOntHS And then he would bE free to movE aNYwHere. Drawn bY The TwIn notioNs of freSh fisH And bare Tits--which fred thougHt WoulD MAke A great line In a folk rOck song--TaHIti waS At The toP
 well as occasional blobsof a whiti sh st ick y s ub stan ce s plattering ont he w indshield. Smashnose F red t ur n ed,w it h wha t musth av e bee nhi s v er s io n ofa w ide gri n but whic h w as  somewhat ca m ou flaged byhis  intruding s pre ad out  n ose ,  andsai d wit h no l i ttle h umor to t he others . 

"Neve r pi ss o ff a seagull," he sa i d, looking atArt Sm ud g ea n d c huc kling. Add in g.... 
"Theyn ev e r for g et." Just the n one of th e  se agulls ,Nos f eratuhimse lf ,  th e one witha go od sizedlump o n  the si d e of hi s skul l,mad e al ow  l eve lr un, ex per t lycalibrat ed  h is tr ajec t o r y  and  le t fl y a c hunk of seagu llexcr e tathatsaile d ri gh t thr ough t he op en  window and wha cked  Art Smud gesm ack  o n his rightche ek.  The ai rbornec ack li n g th at immediately fol lo w e dwas reco gnized by  e v eryone i nthe  Rov e r , des pite th eir gene ral la c kof  knowle dg e abou tthe  pa rticu l arsof sea gull beh avior ,  to be the sea g ull version o f  d e r is i ve l aug hter. Art's  ang r y fa ce l o ok edl ike a  smok ed oy s ter in the processof  being  smok ed and Smashn ose Fred w a s bravelytryi n gn ot to join inthe s eagull cac k ling. He  wasabout to  drop ana d dendum t o h is"Th eyn e ve r forget," bu t a si mm ering l ase r of aloo k f rom  Ar tSmudge st opped hi min  h is  ve rbalt racks.
"D on' teve n got here!"  ArtSmud ge  h i sse d. Onel oo k at A rt  a nd t heot hersdeci d ednot goi ng therewas theex ce llent i dea of the mo me nt. Not awo rdwas sp o k en for t he rest of the short tr i p to Bo bby  Joe' s Se e Food Ea ts,  thoug h S m ashnos e Fred  didpi cku p  on a n en gin erattle he' d nev er no ti cedbefore.  Possibly a sticky val ve. Could bea p robl e m .But no t  awo r d t o Art, who ownedthe Land R ov e r.  Not now.N otwi th Artso fire d upa fter be ing assau lted by a  s eagu l l . A  story tha t Smashn ose Freda lread y  k new w oul d grow  o rga nical ly thr o ugh  itsfuture  r etelli ng. F re d more t han willing to become t he ini tialspi nner of t hes eag ull assau lt s tory. Boss  or  no t, so met hings  wer e  j ust too g oodt o pass up . 
Any h o w,  SmashnoseF r e d's  prob ati o n woul d be  over in two more months and the n he w oul d b e  fre eto move anywhe re.  D r a wn by th etwin notion s of fre sh fishand ba re tit s--whic h Fr e d thou ghtwou ld make a  gr ea t  line i naf olk ro ck s on g--Tah iti wa s  att h e top
 well_as occasional_blobs of a whitish_sticky substance_splattering_on the_windshield._Smashnose Fred turned,_with what must_have been his version_of a wide_grin_but which was somewhat camouflaged by his intruding spread out nose, and said with_no_little humor_to_the_others.

"Never piss off a seagull,"_he said, looking at Art_Smudge and_chuckling. Adding....

"They never forget." Just then one of_the_seagulls, Nosferatu himself,_the one with a good sized lump on the_side of his skull, made a_low level run,_expertly_calibrated_his trajectory and let_fly a chunk of seagull excreta_that sailed right through the open_window and whacked Art Smudge smack on_his right cheek. The airborne cackling_that immediately followed was recognized_by everyone_in the Rover, despite their_general lack of_knowledge about_the particulars of_seagull behavior, to be the seagull_version of derisive_laughter. Art's angry face looked like_a_smoked oyster in_the_process_of being_smoked and Smashnose_Fred_was bravely_trying_not to join in the seagull_cackling._He was about to drop an addendum_to his "They never_forget,"_but a simmering laser_of a look from Art_Smudge stopped him in his verbal_tracks.

"Don't even_go there!"_Art Smudge hissed. One look at Art and the others decided_not going there was the excellent_idea of the moment._Not a_word_was spoken for_the_rest of_the short trip to Bobby Joe's See_Food Eats,_though Smashnose Fred did pick up_on an engine rattle_he'd_never noticed before. Possibly a sticky_valve. Could be a problem. But_not a word to Art,_who_owned_the Land Rover. Not now._Not with Art so fired up_after being assaulted_by a seagull. A story that Smashnose_Fred_already knew would grow organically through_its_future retelling. Fred more than willing_to_become_the initial spinner of the_seagull assault story. Boss or not,_some things were just too good to pass up.

Anyhow,_Smashnose Fred's probation_would be over in two_more_months_and then he would be free to move anywhere. Drawn_by the_twin notions of_fresh fish and bare tits--which Fred thought would make a_great line in a folk rock song--Tahiti_was at the top