 his bowels when he heard the commotion. No mortar round had come out of nowhere to impact on the latrine, as Lionel had feared. But something had happened. For sure. What the hell was going on out on primary? Pausing only to deal with the bare necessities, Pete went barreling out the secondary office door for Primary Lane Two, passing Lionel Bosworth who streaked by him yelling "Help! Help!" Silva ran past both Waldemar and Fast Eddie to the cherry red Honda Civic where he, Pete having nine kids of his own, immediately knew just what the hell was going on. Waldemar, meanwhile, recognizing that someone was actually going to help, followed Pete to the Civic. Pete wheeled on him and told Waldemar to get his butt into the Civic and drive it to the secondary lot. Waldemar pointed to his Civic currently being blocked by unwanted close contact with the venerable Oldsmobile, so Pete grabbed Fast Eddie, who Pete knew not from the Indian casino, Pete not being a gambler, but from the Last Baptist Church where both of them somewhat regularly attended services. He told Fast Eddie to drive his Olds into secondary. And fast! Which Fast Eddie, being Fast Eddie, did in a big hurry. With Waldemar and a shrieking Hilda in the Civic right behind them.

Tony Silva was still watching Pancho and Elvis and Baron on the monitor in the supervisor's office in secondary and chuckling merrily away. He hadn't been this happy since his nagging second wife left him. Could it get any better? His first inkling that the events of the evening where going to take an abrupt quantum leap from getting any better to getting lots worse was when he saw Lionel Bosworth come running by outside yelling "Help! Help!" Bosworth might be an over reactive kind of guy, actually, in Tony's mind, a guy whose mental lights were dimmer than a dying firefly. But this was too much even for him. Tony was alarmed enough to almost immediately sit upright in his comfortable personalized imitation leather supervisor's chair. Then an aging Oldsmobile came tearing into secondary and screeched to a stop. The driver, who Tony did not yet know was that SOB Fast Eddie who fleeced him at the blackjack table at the Indian casino, hit the brakes so hard in his nervousness that he pitched forward and cracked his head on the windshield, blacked out and
his bowels when he heard the commotion. No mortar round had hail out of nowhere to affect on the latrine, as Lionel had feared. But something had happened. For certain. What the sin was going on out on primary? Pausing merely to deal with the bare necessity, Pete went barreling out the junior-grade office door for Primary Lane Two, passing Lionel Bosworth who streaked by him shout " Help! Help! " Silva ran past both Waldemar and Fast Eddie to the cherry red Honda Civic where he, Pete having nine child of his own, immediately knew just what the hell was start on. Waldemar, meanwhile, recognizing that someone was actually going to help, followed Pete to the Civic. Pete wheel on him and told Waldemar to get his butt into the Civic and drive it to the secondary set. Waldemar pointed to his Civic currently being blocked by unwanted close liaison with the august Oldsmobile, indeed Pete grabbed Fast Eddie, who Pete knew not from the Indian casino, Pete not being a gambler, but from the Last Baptist Church where both of them somewhat regularly attended services. He told Fast Eddie to drive his Olds into junior-grade. And fast! Which Fast Eddie, being debauched Eddie, did in a adult haste. With Waldemar and a shrieking Hilda in the Civic right behind them. 

 Tony Silva was still watching Pancho and Elvis and Baron on the proctor in the supervisor's office in secondary and chuckling happily away. He hadn't been this happy since his nagging second wife left him. Could it get any better? His first inkling that the events of the evening where going to take an abrupt quantum leap from getting any good to getting fortune worse was when he saw Lionel Bosworth come running by outside yelling " Help! Help! " Bosworth might be an over reactive kind of guy, actually, in Tony's judgment, a guy whose mental lights were dimmer than a dying firefly. But this was excessively much even for him. Tony was alarmed enough to almost immediately sit upright in his comfortable personalized imitation leather supervisory program's chair. Then an aging Oldsmobile came tearing into secondary and screeched to a arrest. The driver, who Tony did not yet acknowledge was that SOB Fast Eddie who fleeced him at the blackjack oak table at the Indian casino, strike the brakes so hard in his nervousness that he pitched fore and cracked his head on the windshield, blacked out and
 hid bowels when he heard tme commotion. No mortar cound hzd come uut of nowhere to impact on vhe oatribe, as Lionel had fearea. But somvthing hae hakpened. For sure. Wizt the mzll wzd gonnj on out on prikary? Pausitg only to dean dich the bare necessities, Pete went bawreling okt the secondaty ofgyce soor for Primary Lane Two, passing Mionel Uosworth who stteaked by him yelling "Help! Helo!" Silva ran past blth Waldemat anq Fast Eddie go the chegxy red Hondz Civic where he, Pete having nive kibs of his oqn, imlgdiately knex just what the hell was gming on. Waldemar, meanehine, eecognizing that somemne was actually gjing to hal', followed Pete to thw Xivic. Peta whdwlea oh iim and tlld Waldemar fo get his vutt into the Civic age drive it to the sqcjndary lot. Waldemar pointed to his Civib cudrently being blocked bt unwanted close contwct with ehe venerable Oldsmobile, so Pete grabbed Fast Eddhe, whk Peue knew boh from the Indian casino, Pete not being a gamfmet, nut from the Lasb Baptist Church wnege foth of them romewhcf degularly attended servicgs. He rold Fast Eddoe to drive his Olds into swcondary. And dast! Which Fast Edbie, being Fart Ecdie, cid in a big hurry. With Walsemar and a shriekinf Hilda in the Cixic rhght behind them.

Tony Silva was stilo wacching Pxnchp and Qlvis and Haron on the monitor in hhe sopervivor's officf in secondary and chuckling meccily away. He nagn't been thns hapiy since his nadging second wnfe left him. Zould it gvt any bevter? His firft inkling thdj the events mf the edenibg wyere gokvg to take an sbrupt qucutum leap from getting any nettet fo getting lots wotwe was when he sad Lyojek Fmsworth come runvine by ojtside yelllng "Hell! Help!" Bosworth mighd be an over reactive likd of guy, actuallr, in Tony's mimd, a guy whose menual lijhts wxre dikmet than a dying firefly. But this was too lucm even for hii. Toky wws alarmed enough to almost immediately sit uprigit in his comfortable kersonalized imitatiou keather supxrvisow's chair. Dhen an aging Oldsmovile came tearing into secondary and sdreechad to a stop. The driver, who Tony did not yet know was that SOB Fast Eddie who dleecev rim at the glacljack tcblz at thq Invien casino, hit the brakes so hard in his nervousnxss that ha 'itched forward and cracked hos head on the dindshield, blacked out ahd
his bowels when he heard the commotion. round come out nowhere to impact had But something had For sure. What hell was going on out on Pausing only to deal with the bare necessities, Pete went barreling out the office door for Primary Lane Two, passing Lionel Bosworth who streaked by him "Help! Silva past Waldemar and Fast Eddie to the cherry red Honda Civic where he, Pete having nine kids his own, immediately knew just what the hell going on. Waldemar, meanwhile, that someone was actually going help, Pete to Civic. wheeled him and told to get his butt into the Civic and drive it to the secondary lot. Waldemar pointed to Civic currently by unwanted contact the Oldsmobile, so Pete Eddie, who Pete knew not from Pete not being a gambler, but from the Baptist Church both of them somewhat regularly attended He told Fast Eddie to drive his Olds secondary. And fast! Which Fast Eddie, being Fast Eddie, did in a big hurry. With a shrieking Hilda in Civic right behind Tony was watching and Elvis Baron on the monitor in the supervisor's office in secondary and merrily away. He hadn't been this happy since his nagging left Could it get better? His first inkling the of the evening where take abrupt getting better getting lots worse was he saw Lionel Bosworth come by outside yelling "Help! over reactive kind of guy, actually, in Tony's a guy whose mental lights were dimmer a dying firefly. But this was too much even for him. Tony alarmed enough immediately sit upright in his comfortable personalized imitation supervisor's chair. Then an Oldsmobile came tearing into secondary and screeched to a The who Tony not yet know that SOB Fast who fleeced him blackjack table the casino, so hard in his nervousness that pitched and cracked his head on windshield, and
 his bowels when he heard the coMmotion. No mOrtar RouNd hAd Come Out oF nowhere to impaCT on tHe latrine, as Lionel had feAred. BUt SOmetHInG had hAppened. fOr SURe. WHaT tHe hElL WaS goinG on Out on prImary? PausiNg oNlY to deal with tHE bAre necessiTieS, Pete went barRelIng out ThE seCOndarY ofFice dOor for pRimary lane Two, paSsINg LionEL BosworTH WhO strEaked by him yelling "hElP! help!" Silva ran paSt both waLDeMAR anD FaSt Eddie to tHe CherrY Red HondA ciVIC WheRE he, Pete having Nine kids of hIS owN, immedIaTelY Knew juSt whaT tHE heLl was going oN. WalDemar, meanWhile, rECogniziNG that soMeone wAs aCtuAlly GOiNg To hElP, FolLOwEd PETe tO the CiviC. PEtE wheeLed oN HIM And tOld waldEmar tO get his butt inTo tHe CiVIc aNd driVe it tO the SeCondaRy lot. WAldemAr Pointed to his CivIc cuRrently beIng BlOckEd By unwANted clOse ConTact witH the venERabLe oLDSmObile, so Pete grabbed faST edDie, who PeTe knew NOt FrOM the IndiAn CasIno, PETE not bEing A GaMbler, but From thE laSt baptist chUrch whErE boTh oF them SOmewHat regUlarly atTendeD Services. He told fAst Eddie to driVE hIS olDS intO seCondary. And fAst! WHIch FAst EDDiE, beINg FasT EddiE, dID iN A big hurry. With WaldemAr And a shRiekiNg Hilda in the CIvic right bEHINd them.

ToNy SiLVa WAs still watchinG PancHo and Elvis ANd Baron oN the mOnitor in The supervISOr's officE in SecOndAry AND cHuckling merriLY Away. he Hadn't beEn tHis happY siNce His NagGiNg second wIfe left hIm. coUlD iT geT any bETter? His fIrSt iNkLinG that THe evenTs of tHe evEnInG WheRe going TO tAKE an aBrUpT quaNtuM lEap frOm geTTinG any betTer to gettIng LOts wOrSe Was when He saw Lionel BoSwOrth come ruNnIng By outsIDE yelling "help! Help!" Bosworth might be AN over reActIve kiNd of Guy, actualLy, iN Tony's MinD, A guy whOse menTal liGhTs wERE dimmER ThAn a DyIng firefly. bUT thIs was ToO mucH even foR him. Tony was alarmed ENouGh to almost immEdiAtelY SIt UprIGhT In hIs COmfORTable personalizEd imitatioN lEAtHer superviSOr's ChAir. Then An aging oldsmOBile camE tearing iNto secondArY and SCReeChed to a stoP. The drivEr, who Tony DId not YEt Know wAs tHat SOB faSt EDdie wHo fleeCEd hIm at tHe blacKjAck tabLe at tHe indian caSino, hit the brakes so hard iN his neRvousNesS that he piTchED foRward and cRackEd his head oN thE wiNdshiEld, BLackeD out ANd
 his bowels when he heardthe commot ion.Nomor ta r ro undhad come out o f  now here to impact on thelatri ne ,  asL io nel h ad fear e d. B utso me thi ng ha d hap pen ed. For  sure. Wha t t he  hell was go i ng  on out on  pr imary? Pausi ngonly t odea l  with  th e bar e nece s sities , Pete we nt barrel i ng outt h eseco ndary office door fo r  Primary LaneTwo, p as s in g Lio nel  Bosworthwh o str e aked by hi m y ell i ng "Help! Hel p!" Silva r a n p ast bo th  Wa l demarand F as t  Ed die to thecher ry red Ho nda Ci v ic wher e  he, Pe te hav ing  ni ne k i ds  o f h is own ,  i mme d iat ely knew  j us t wha t th e h e ll w asgoin g on.  Waldemar, me anw hile ,  re cogni zingthat  s omeon e wasactua ll y going to help , fo llowed Pe teto  th eCivic .  Petewhe ele d on hi m and t o ldWa l d e ma r to get his buttin t o  t he Civic  and d r iv ei t to the  s eco ndar y lot.Wald e ma r pointe d to h i sCi vic cur re ntly b ei ngblo ckedb y un wanted  close c ontac t  with the vene r able Oldsmobi l e, s oP etegra bbed Fast E ddie ,  who  Pet e  k new not f rom t he In d ian casino, Pete no tbeinga gam bler, but fro m the Last B a ptist Ch urch wh e re both of the m som ewhat regu l arly att ended  service s. He tol d Fast Edd ietodri veh i sOlds into sec o n dary .And fas t!Which F ast  Ed die , b ei ng Fast E ddie, di din  a  b ighurry .  With Wa ld ema rand  a sh r ieking  Hild a in  t he Civ ic righ t  b e h indth em .

T ony  S ilvawass til l watch ing Panch o a n d El vi sand Bar on on the mon it or in thesu per visor' s office i n secondary and chuckli n g merri lyaway.  Hehadn't be enthis h app y  since  his n aggin gsec o n d wif e le fthi m. Could i t get  anybe tter ? His f irst inkling thatt heevents of the  ev enin g wh ere go i ngto tak e an abrupt quant um leap fr om ge tting anyb ett er  to get ting lo ts wo r se waswhen he s aw Lionel  B oswo r t h c ome runnin g by out side yell i ng "H e lp ! Hel p!"  Boswo rt h m ightbe ano ver  reac tive k in d of g uy, a ct ually, i n Tony's mind, a guy wh ose me ntallig hts weredim m erthan a dy ingfirefly. B utthi s was  to o  much  eve n  f orh im. T onyw as alarme d  e nou g h  t o almost im m e d iat ely s itu pright  inhis comfortable p e rsonalized imi tati o n  le ath e r su pe rvisor's chair . T he n an aging  O ldsmobile c ame tear in g  into  secon dary a nd scre e c he d  to astop . T he driver , w ho Tony di dno t  yet k nowwa s that  SOB F a st E d d ie who fleeced h im at t he bl a ckj ack t ab le at t h e In dian casin o, hit thebrakes  sohardin hisne rvousn ess  t hat he pit c hed forwa rd an d crack ed  his  he ad onthew i ndshi eld,  b lac ked out a n d 
 his_bowels when_he heard the commotion._No mortar_round_had come_out_of nowhere to_impact on the_latrine, as Lionel had_feared. But something_had_happened. For sure. What the hell was going on out on primary? Pausing only_to_deal with_the_bare_necessities, Pete went barreling out_the secondary office door for_Primary Lane_Two, passing Lionel Bosworth who streaked by him_yelling_"Help! Help!" Silva_ran past both Waldemar and Fast Eddie to the_cherry red Honda Civic where he,_Pete having nine_kids_of_his own, immediately knew_just what the hell was going_on. Waldemar, meanwhile, recognizing that someone_was actually going to help, followed Pete_to the Civic. Pete wheeled on_him and told Waldemar to_get his_butt into the Civic and_drive it to_the secondary_lot. Waldemar pointed_to his Civic currently being blocked_by unwanted close_contact with the venerable Oldsmobile, so_Pete_grabbed Fast Eddie,_who_Pete_knew not_from the Indian_casino,_Pete not_being_a gambler, but from the Last_Baptist_Church where both of them somewhat regularly_attended services. He told_Fast_Eddie to drive his_Olds into secondary. And fast!_Which Fast Eddie, being Fast Eddie,_did in_a big_hurry. With Waldemar and a shrieking Hilda in the Civic right_behind them.

Tony Silva was still watching_Pancho and Elvis and_Baron on_the_monitor in the_supervisor's_office in_secondary and chuckling merrily away. He hadn't_been this_happy since his nagging second wife_left him. Could it_get_any better? His first inkling that_the events of the evening where_going to take an abrupt_quantum_leap_from getting any better to_getting lots worse was when he_saw Lionel Bosworth_come running by outside yelling "Help! Help!"_Bosworth_might be an over reactive kind_of_guy, actually, in Tony's mind, a_guy_whose_mental lights were dimmer than_a dying firefly. But this was_too much even for him. Tony was alarmed enough_to almost immediately_sit upright in his comfortable_personalized_imitation_leather supervisor's chair. Then an aging Oldsmobile came tearing into_secondary and_screeched to a_stop. The driver, who Tony did not yet know was_that SOB Fast Eddie who fleeced him_at the blackjack table at the Indian casino, hit the brakes_so hard in his nervousness that he pitched_forward and cracked his head on the_windshield, blacked out and