challenge, 'cause you don't want to bear witness to the depths
of his depravity—especially not when you're his guest of
honor."
As the table for the arm wrestle challenge
was moved into position, and her classmates jockeyed for an optimum
viewing position, Betty-Jo became increasingly annoyed with
herself. I'm being petty, even nasty for wanting to humiliate
Richard in front of everybody. "Why am I doing this?" she asked the
Fox. "Beside having a face like a ripped open sausage, a foul
mouth, a rancid personality, and the social maturity of a gerbil,
what's Dungie's crime?"
"Stupidity—for being in love with you."
"I really shouldn't blame him for that."
"You wouldn't have this problem if you'd
converted to Islam and worn a burka."
She gave the Fox an obligatory smile. "I
can't see myself in a burka."
The Fox took her hand, and squeezed it. "If
you think a burka would be bad, make sure you don't commit your bod
to a day on the dark side with Dungie. That psychopath could make a
burka seem like a fashion statement."
* * *
Betty-Jo's arm-wrestle challenge was the
biggest thing to hit Grand Strand High since hurricane Hazel
leveled the school in fifty-four. Word of the grudge match, and the
stakes, spread quickly. It wasn't long before Jim Bob O'Hara, the
student council president, was clasping Betty-Jo's hand with
Richards'.
She was pumped. "I never would have guessed
that I'd be holding hands with you, Dick," she said. Then she fixed
him with an icy stare.
"Enjoy me while you can, Stud Plaything,
'cause your world is about to sewer."
"I should warn you that I'm not as dumb as
you look. Only you will be sewering."
"Ready?" Jim Bob asked her. But she wasn't,
because something weird was happening. Dungie was twitching, and
his eyes were changing—from cold and black to warm and blue.
"...Ready," she replied.
"Ready, Richard?"
She felt Dungie's grip tighten on hers.
Something bad's going on!
"Ready," said the future dung beetle.
"Go!" Jim Bob O'Hara shouted.
-10-
BRAD RAIDEN & SANDRA MANDERVILLE
You Sexy Thing
Sandra Manderville was about to take a shower
when her friend, Belinda Rawlings, called. "You know my Sheik's
taking me to the Empire Canada formal."
"Sure. It'll be you, and the private school
gropers."
"Not exactly.... My Sheik has a friend."
Since when have I ever been that desperate?
"Don't even think about it!"
"Sandy, you must! For me?"
"Who is this guy, the school mascot? Dumbo
the Clown's younger brother?"
"His nickname's Grasshopper."
"Grasshopper! You expect me to go out with a
guy named Grasshopper." Damn you, Robert! Why did you leave me?
"He plays on the hockey team. My Sheik says
he's tall and handsome. We ride in a limo, drink champagne,
and..."
"It's happening Friday, right?"
"We'll pick you up at a quarter to six."
"Do you swear that if this jock's a
wildebeest you won't desert me?"
"You know I wouldn't. But a wildebeest might
be fun."
To you, maybe. Sandy took a deep breath, and
shrugged. "I haven't any idea why I'm doing this."
"Best friend ever, I love you!" Belinda
said.
"I'll tell you if the feeling's mutual after
the formal."
"Don't worry. My Sheik says the Grasshopper's
the kind of guy that even you might misbehave with."
"Your Sheik's an ass!"
"If I didn't have my Sheik, I'd be jealous.
Talk soon."
Sandy let her robe fall from her shoulders.
Not too shabby, she thought. I could pass for a short haired,
azure-blue-eyed Shania Twain. Spirited, pinkie-brown nipples
highlighted her full, firm breasts, and her long, statuesque legs
merged enticingly. If I can't make it as an English scholar,
there's potential here for me to turn pro. But it would have to be
in the carriage-trade end of the profession. That thought amused
her as she stepped into the shower, and turned on the hand-held
water massage. She moved the setting to three, pulse. She knew why
she was willing to chance a blind date.
* * *
Greg and Belinda picked Sandy up in the
of his depravity—especially not when you're his guest of
honor."
As the table for the arm wrestle challenge
was moved into position, and her classmates jockeyed for an optimum
viewing position, Betty-Jo became increasingly annoyed with
herself. I'm being petty, even nasty for wanting to humiliate
Richard in front of everybody. "Why am I doing this?" she asked the
Fox. "Beside having a face like a ripped open sausage, a foul
mouth, a rancid personality, and the social maturity of a gerbil,
what's Dungie's crime?"
"Stupidity—for being in love with you."
"I really shouldn't blame him for that."
"You wouldn't have this problem if you'd
converted to Islam and worn a burka."
She gave the Fox an obligatory smile. "I
can't see myself in a burka."
The Fox took her hand, and squeezed it. "If
you think a burka would be bad, make sure you don't commit your bod
to a day on the dark side with Dungie. That psychopath could make a
burka seem like a fashion statement."
* * *
Betty-Jo's arm-wrestle challenge was the
biggest thing to hit Grand Strand High since hurricane Hazel
leveled the school in fifty-four. Word of the grudge match, and the
stakes, spread quickly. It wasn't long before Jim Bob O'Hara, the
student council president, was clasping Betty-Jo's hand with
Richards'.
She was pumped. "I never would have guessed
that I'd be holding hands with you, Dick," she said. Then she fixed
him with an icy stare.
"Enjoy me while you can, Stud Plaything,
'cause your world is about to sewer."
"I should warn you that I'm not as dumb as
you look. Only you will be sewering."
"Ready?" Jim Bob asked her. But she wasn't,
because something weird was happening. Dungie was twitching, and
his eyes were changing—from cold and black to warm and blue.
"...Ready," she replied.
"Ready, Richard?"
She felt Dungie's grip tighten on hers.
Something bad's going on!
"Ready," said the future dung beetle.
"Go!" Jim Bob O'Hara shouted.
-10-
BRAD RAIDEN & SANDRA MANDERVILLE
You Sexy Thing
Sandra Manderville was about to take a shower
when her friend, Belinda Rawlings, called. "You know my Sheik's
taking me to the Empire Canada formal."
"Sure. It'll be you, and the private school
gropers."
"Not exactly.... My Sheik has a friend."
Since when have I ever been that desperate?
"Don't even think about it!"
"Sandy, you must! For me?"
"Who is this guy, the school mascot? Dumbo
the Clown's younger brother?"
"His nickname's Grasshopper."
"Grasshopper! You expect me to go out with a
guy named Grasshopper." Damn you, Robert! Why did you leave me?
"He plays on the hockey team. My Sheik says
he's tall and handsome. We ride in a limo, drink champagne,
and..."
"It's happening Friday, right?"
"We'll pick you up at a quarter to six."
"Do you swear that if this jock's a
wildebeest you won't desert me?"
"You know I wouldn't. But a wildebeest might
be fun."
To you, maybe. Sandy took a deep breath, and
shrugged. "I haven't any idea why I'm doing this."
"Best friend ever, I love you!" Belinda
said.
"I'll tell you if the feeling's mutual after
the formal."
"Don't worry. My Sheik says the Grasshopper's
the kind of guy that even you might misbehave with."
"Your Sheik's an ass!"
"If I didn't have my Sheik, I'd be jealous.
Talk soon."
Sandy let her robe fall from her shoulders.
Not too shabby, she thought. I could pass for a short haired,
azure-blue-eyed Shania Twain. Spirited, pinkie-brown nipples
highlighted her full, firm breasts, and her long, statuesque legs
merged enticingly. If I can't make it as an English scholar,
there's potential here for me to turn pro. But it would have to be
in the carriage-trade end of the profession. That thought amused
her as she stepped into the shower, and turned on the hand-held
water massage. She moved the setting to three, pulse. She knew why
she was willing to chance a blind date.
* * *
Greg and Belinda picked Sandy up in the
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