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Show Acting Alone Page 111 check from Minaret Press was "forthcoming." And, while Spikey's mom Mae Bell was a hideous cook (everything she made tasted either like popsicles or plastic or somebody's dead grandma's basement), still she cooked a lot, bulkwise, if you complained about hunger pains, and if you made a lot of oblique comments about the legendary stinginess of midwestern Protestants. So Sam and Shannon decided to dig in here at Kiev and see what would happen next. Shouldn't Sam have worried that he might be imposing on these folks just a bit? Nah, he told Shanny. The fucking ostriches monopolized the airwaves of America's national "consciousness" for over a year. Sam was just getting some of America's own back. In any case, despite the probable intercession of kind old wise-bearded Dr. Abraham ("That boy will put this God damned department on the map!"), it was very unlikely that Sam would still have his instructorship waiting for him if he returned to K-State anyway. And he didn't particularly want to go back and live like a scared sissy in the shadow of kickboxer Bouncy, who craved Sam's blood. And, also, free board and room, even in a place like the Wamsutter home here in Kiev, is nothing to be sneezed at in these times of double-digit inflation. Besides, Shannon liked the weird old reruns they got out here this deep in the wilderness. She'd never heard tell of such strange goings-on as "Petticoat Junction" and "Beverly Hillbillies." The sweet baby wasn't even born until 1962, for gosh sake. Besides, also, Sam had finally discovered something unambiguously pleasing about his big body. His huge gut-muscles and oversized jaws and gorilla sinuses seemed to have been made for sax playing! Only two weeks |