Then they hit me upside the head and dumped me in a foggy ditch where I woke up this morning, still the alter ego of a science fiction author but not knowing quite what to do with the five novels in my backpack that they completely overlooked.
I might sell them for food but then I just might use them to whomp the next computer salesman or bookseller who tries to puts his or her hands in my pockets again. And that was a lemon sour ball, too. My favorite.
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