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Show Acting Alone pa g e 128 sugar a lot, so they mostly had sugary canned fruit and jam and jelly and stuff like that, and the personalized paring knives laid idle in the drawer. And these napkin rings were weird. They were made out of some weird clear plasticky stuff with holes punched in and old yarn strung in and out, crocheted into a ring shape with a piece of flowered paper with a weird nun name on it. The nun whose place Shannon was sitting at must've been old and shaky. Maybe toothless. Her napkin was pretty gross. Shannon was in a mood to see things all gross and icky today. Sometimes she felt like she had an iron stomach, like the farmgirl she really was. Other times she felt like a college girl, like she was supposed to be these • # days, real easy to disgust inside. That's how she felt now. "You've had the temerity to usurp the chair of the Gorgon while she is out adoring," Simone whispered in a voice like the narrator of a spooky movie. "Don't be surprised if your little behind turns to granite during dessert." When she said the words little behind, the husky Shmoo-nun breathed too hard and too sweet into Shannon's face. Shannon didn't like it. She felt like a puppy being mauled by a big overaffectionate kid. She didn't say anything. "I see you are admiring our elegant napkin rings," said Simone Stylite, being too funny and too friendly and paying too much attention to what Shannon was doing. (What did she expect from Shannon?) "They are custom-made from genuine bleached X-ray film, donated by one of our community's many fine hospitals which are scattered across the length and breadth of -" |