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"Pastry Plot"

It's all a right-wing plot cooked up by french pastry, and hats. hiding out in the holds of Somali pirate ships.

"the right-wing french pastry plot"

"how many debates before they've probably used up what they've got, do you think?" junior consultant Janie asked TechTrek Stacy worriedly.

"Two," Stace assured her, condescending busily for dripping-behind-the-ears naivite' from the retired playgirl bunny.

Jane checked the screen display intently. "We need to add ... five now, to be sure."

"Any suggestions?" Stacy knew the likely spots.

"American Samoa."

"Wouldn't Tunis or Monaco make more sense?"

"Okay. Toronto it is. you're right. Closer is best."

"And she does have that fear of flying...."

"Yup. On it." Janie wriggled her phone out of the left back pocket of her jeans. "Chez Suzette du Croix? The rush'll begin around 10:41 March 22nd. Gear now!"

"Let's squeeze in some back to back nights." Stacy slurped hot java up through a straw. "Really make 'em squirm."

"Got it. Hilton Head, if it's above ground. South Carolina's strong enough for another round."

"Yeah, but will they fall for the mint juliennes flambe' on the trays?"

"They will, or we're not as right-wing as sin."

"Alert the kin far and wide. We've got the gumdrops in the bag." Stace jammed his laptop shut and stood to stretch his five feet and a half pallor over Janie's frame crouching to open the drawer of plastic samples.

"What's that pink gop?"

"Mouse a la Cart."

"Ain't that some class?" Stacey chawed down on Red's Premium Cracklin and gulped. "We have got it down."

Jane popped a chilled mouse-a-la-cart down the scoop of his black muscle shirt. "We do," she smirked.

"Hit it, doll."

(259 words)

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Collecting south florida jokes as an aside, I lived in my grandparents intracoastal retirement condo for around a year to keep them familiar company as gramps succumbed to pancreatic cancer with 24/7 home nursing care, and i've friends living there now....

A drunk and an alligator walk into a bar. The bartender asks, 'what can i get for you two?' The drunk says, 'i'll have a margarita and my friend here just needs a hand.'

In those days i had to -- cleverly, covertly -- let gramps win at gin rummy which he loved avericiously. He'd never been "a good loser" in that and fatal illness, i learned quickly, made his disgruntled distress worse.

How many seasons does south florida have? Two: Raining and Not-raining.

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text and graphics c. Jeannette Harris and A Country Rag, Inc. March 2016. Jonesborough, TN. All rights reserved.