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Show Acting Alone Page 386 digression presented a stark-naked, carbuncled woman trying to seduce the protagonist - coincidentally named and shaped and scented exactly like Sammy. Her advances were repelled on the grounds of her past history of producing less than perfect spawn. "I don't want a fish for a wild oat," says Sammy Hero. For unspecifiable reasons, that image became the motto, refrain and rallying cry for an all-new brainstorm. Yes, almost as though the Elder's unconsciousness were fastening onto a new esoteric plan in order to put off that faith-shaking revelation contained in the old Jew's beard, a brainstorm struck, even right there in the editorial office of the subversive magazine. On came one of the Elder's bits of esoterica, the type that had impressed the Council of the Twelve so many years ago and had continued impressing at least good Councillor Ezra even after the current timid liberal-humanist administration had taken over. Elder Cicerone somehow knew his course of action. It was revealed to him. He decided then and there to call church intelligence soon and have them delve way, way deep, seriously deep, deeper than even Senator Nimrod or his parasite son cared to delve, into this nihilistic scribbler's pubescent past, to find a longtime friend, a buddy, an intense male attachment of the extrasanguineous variety. And, the Elder judged, from Sammy's thesis, that no level of intensity nor intimacy could be discounted between this youngster and whatever person would be indiscriminate enough to style himself Sammy Edwine's buddy. And, as Elder Cicerone warmly thanked the old Hebrew, rose, and delivered himself up from the bowels of that liberal educational institution, so too |