"FWLS12" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See) "Huh?" I said, turning around.
"Umm... is this a bad time?" the figure in the shadows said. "I can come back any time, I always catch your shows and can bug you next time, really--" "No, no prob. Whassup?" The figure stepped out of the light. Shortish, but that's keen, 'cuz it was a Murfle. Female, by the tone of voice and fact that she had hair (other than normal purple fur, all male Murfles are born with only a little Charlie Brown sprig of hair). The eyes read admiration and a possible leak in the sanity tank. "I was wondering... can I have your autograph?" she asked. "I'm your number one fan. I'm always there when you're reading a poem. I was the one in the back clapping... did you hear me?" "The living dead could have heard you," I joked. "Gee, I hope I wasn't too loud--" "Naw, s'just a joke, dudette," I assured. She giggled in a way similar to fifteen fourth graders dragging their fingernails over a chalkboard. "Lemme get my pen out," I said, fishing through my green vest pockets for a writing utensil. "Whaddya want me to write?" "Umm... 'To Sally : Luv ya, from your close, intimate friend, Fluki.'" "Err... howzabout a simple 'Luki Panookie, Poet'?" "Okay." "Gotta piece of paper?" "Naw, just sign here," she said, lifting up her shirt. "What's wrong?" "Jeez!" I exclaimed, averting my eyes out of politeness. "Pullit down, man! Err, woman! We're on the street, for cryin' out loud!" She paused, and I hopefully assumed the ruffling noise was her shirt going back down. "I've offended you," she sobbed. "I'm sorry, really, I'm really sorry, I just... just..." "Whoa. Slack down, no probs here," I said, fishing around |
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