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Chapter 3

The Story The Authors

Betty did something to me. Something that's simply mystified. Why should it be the way it goes so high? Come to Pathmark, and behold the power of cheese. Foresaken

Velveeta, American white, American Yellow, Cheddar sharp or mild, Monterey Jack with or without jalepenos or caraway, romano, parmesan, gouda, edam, emmanthal, or limburger. Cheese is all powerful. My beloved is roquefort. Have you ever had a bit of blue on your tongue that brought you to ecstacy? amerikan cheese institute

"What the frock was that hooty-pitootie about?" Vashondra said to no one in particular. "Frock if I know." Bitzy said as she poured the freshly shaken martinis into their appropriate cocktail glasses. She dropped two speared olives into each drink and handed a glass to Vashondra. "And who the hell cares anyway?" Bitzy added, tossing back her drink. Vashondra nibbled on her olive. "What I don't understand," she started. " is why Patrick behaved that way and how we got on the topic of cheese." "Oh, forget the damn cheese and enjoy your drink!" Bitzy commanded. Vashondra noticed that Bitzy had become more forceful of late. Perhaps what happened to Patrick was also happening to her best friend and side kick, Bitzy Bootleg. She decided to play it cool and see what would evolve. She sipped her martini and kept a watchful eye on Bitzy. Suddenly, cuddles

from out of the blue, it started to rain. "Oh no!" cried Loni. "My wash! Oh shoot." She grabbed the wicker basket and ran outside to the yard. The linens, just washed, were thrashing in the wet wind and in any moment would be torn off the clothesline. Still in her bathrobe and slippers, she hurried to gather all the wet laundry, which isn't an easy task when the you're being whipped in the face by wet linens. After much effort, Loni marched back to the house dripping wet, her slippers caked in mud. She kicked off her muddy slippers, tossed the basket full of wet laundry aside, and collapsed in her favorite armchair. She almost fell asleep when the phone started ringing. She got up and answered the phone. "Hello?" Anderson

she said. There was no answer. She looked at the phone, puzzled, and hung up. All of a sudden there was a knock at the door. She panicked because she was still in here bathrobe and slippers. After a brief trip to the washroom to change, she went to answer the door. Before her was a huge man, very ugly and very smelly. He started clawing at her. "Rape!" She yelled. But there was no one around. "Rape!" All at once the man stopped his touching and clawing at her big beautiful breasts and left. Dasbin

Anatole was frustrated. For years he had been tasting cheese for the amerikan cheese institute. Day in and day out he had tidbits of square blocks and eternal bad breath. Soft roundels was his dream, and those titantic orbs seemed so succulent. He would eat the whole round for once, but the stoopid broad was yelling for some sort of foreign lettuce to go with the cheese. Who eats Rape with cheese....but in order to please her he had to go to the market. Like Mac Arthur he vowed to return. ACI

So when he didn't return, she got really, extremely mad. So mad, words can not express. Allison

she took the knofe that layed on the bed and put it in the pocket of her apron and happily waited the return of her husbad today would be the day. MoonRaven

The Story	The Authors
Betty did something to me. Something that's simply mystified. Why should it be the way it goes so high? Come to Pathmark, and behold the power of cheese.	Foresaken
Velveeta, American white, American Yellow, Cheddar sharp or mild, Monterey Jack with or without jalepenos or caraway, romano, parmesan, gouda, edam, emmanthal, or limburger. Cheese is all powerful. My beloved is roquefort. Have you ever had a bit of blue on your tongue that brought you to ecstacy?	amerikan cheese institute
"What the frock was that hooty-pitootie about?" Vashondra said to no one in particular. "Frock if I know." Bitzy said as she poured the freshly shaken martinis into their appropriate cocktail glasses. She dropped two speared olives into each drink and handed a glass to Vashondra. "And who the hell cares anyway?" Bitzy added, tossing back her drink. Vashondra nibbled on her olive. "What I don't understand," she started. " is why Patrick behaved that way and how we got on the topic of cheese." "Oh, forget the damn cheese and enjoy your drink!" Bitzy commanded. Vashondra noticed that Bitzy had become more forceful of late. Perhaps what happened to Patrick was also happening to her best friend and side kick, Bitzy Bootleg. She decided to play it cool and see what would evolve. She sipped her martini and kept a watchful eye on Bitzy. Suddenly,	cuddles
from out of the blue, it started to rain. "Oh no!" cried Loni. "My wash! Oh shoot." She grabbed the wicker basket and ran outside to the yard. The linens, just washed, were thrashing in the wet wind and in any moment would be torn off the clothesline. Still in her bathrobe and slippers, she hurried to gather all the wet laundry, which isn't an easy task when the you're being whipped in the face by wet linens. After much effort, Loni marched back to the house dripping wet, her slippers caked in mud. She kicked off her muddy slippers, tossed the basket full of wet laundry aside, and collapsed in her favorite armchair. She almost fell asleep when the phone started ringing. She got up and answered the phone. "Hello?"	Anderson
she said. There was no answer. She looked at the phone, puzzled, and hung up. All of a sudden there was a knock at the door. She panicked because she was still in here bathrobe and slippers. After a brief trip to the washroom to change, she went to answer the door. Before her was a huge man, very ugly and very smelly. He started clawing at her. "Rape!" She yelled. But there was no one around. "Rape!" All at once the man stopped his touching and clawing at her big beautiful breasts and left.	Dasbin
Anatole was frustrated. For years he had been tasting cheese for the amerikan cheese institute. Day in and day out he had tidbits of square blocks and eternal bad breath. Soft roundels was his dream, and those titantic orbs seemed so succulent. He would eat the whole round for once, but the stoopid broad was yelling for some sort of foreign lettuce to go with the cheese. Who eats Rape with cheese....but in order to please her he had to go to the market. Like Mac Arthur he vowed to return.	ACI
So when he didn't return, she got really, extremely mad. So mad, words can not express.	Allison
she took the knofe that layed on the bed and put it in the pocket of her apron and happily waited the return of her husbad today would be the day.	MoonRaven

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