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Show Anting Alone Page 234 theory guy. "Interrogate him!" Spikey heard of "Trots 'n Bonnie," but he didn't think that was who he was talking about. But Spikey shut up anyway because just then he saw a naked girl come wandering out of the church. She was holding her dark-haired crotch in both hands and wandering along the sidewalk, mumbling and crying and bleeding a little bit like a person after a car wreck they been in. The political theory guy saw the girl, too. He made a weird little gaspy chuckle in his throat. He sat down on the steps of what looked like the courthouse and he crossed his legs and started bouncing them up and down. His mouth and eyes looked all drooly and trembly like a wolf's as he opened one of the old white-bearded foreigner's thick glossy perditious pamphlets and read it. As he read he sometimes glanced down the street at the naked darkhaired bleeding girls that was being pushed out of the church one by one now. The political theory guy liked to read everything he could lay his hands on. Spikey couldn't talk at first. Finally, when he could talk, his language came out old-style like his dad's language on the few occasions him and Spikey ever spoke. Spikey didn't know why, but he said, real old-fashion like this, "Them fellers really hadn't oughtn'ter be a-doin that-thar t' them pore li'l calico gals." The political theory guy got a real wild, weird look and yelled, "Tell me you never did it to a heifer or a chicken in junior high, Sgt. Wamsutter. Then tell me, with your heart's deepest honesty, which possesses more relative value in the real world. A strong, fine heifer, or one of these poorly |