My Tale of Woe, or how Our Heroine Met Alex Barnes, gets accused of Tautology, Is Rescued by Jim and Blair, and what happened Between-times.

Warnings: bad writer, bad idea, bad nightmares, no bad language, no bad sex.

The Mary Sue-San Series #4

****************************** excerpt from private e-mail

From: susgreer@webtv.net
To: PattRose1@sexqueen.com
Subject: I'm out now

I just got out of the "Facility." Yeah, I'm ok, just tired. All they wanted to do was yakk, yammer, and yowsa. They put me in that white jacket and stuck me with a needle full of feel-good juice. Next thing I know I'm in a hospital bed, and God, ya know how I love hospitals, cause that's where I met Blair, but this was no fun. They had criminals here, in the same room with me!

Five Dr. Frankensteins on my case: one drooled, one spit while he talked, one constantly cracked his knuckles, the 4th kept sticking his finger in his ear and trying to dig out wax, and the 5th, oh Patt, she kept pulling wedges out of her panties, right in front of us, too!

Finally, they let me have my own room, but darn it all, I just had to have a roommate, shades of college dorms. Lemme tell you about the Blonde Bombshell who was my roomie. Big and Blonde, cold as ice, blue eyes shooting sparks, her bazookas stuck out to there... Her bazookas saluted the sky! Talk at ya later, Patt, I feel a nap comin' on.

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excerpt from private e-mail

From: PattRose1@bigmamasinc.com
To: susgreer@wackyweb.net
Subject: re: I'm out now

I wanna know more about your roomie. Who sprung ya? I called Blair, he said they'd drive over there--on the double--Jim would be doing the driving, so I suppose they got there in one piece.

Did any of those felons hurt my little sis? They wouldn't let me or Tricia in to visit you, and confiscated our laptops, too. God, that made me so mad I could chew lead and spit nails! I wanted to nail that guard to the wall as hard as Jim nails Blair to the matress. Write back when you wake up, well...uh...duh!

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excerpt from private e-mail

From: susgreer@wishingwell.net
To:PattRose1@damnyourhide.com
Subect: re: I'm out now

Just woke up and hadda check my mail....milk and oreos...blah bebop blah...macaroni and cheese...the course of true love never runs smooth...The amazon's name was Alicia, but she called herself Alex. She said a lot of weird things to me and mumbled to herself a lot about colors and noises and vibrations. I could tell she represses her emotions a lot...she said, "I know why you're in here."

Well, I said right back, in that timeless cliche, "Oh, you do, do you?" She answered "yes, of course, I do. I know everything. I see everything, I smell everything (and sister, when's the last time you had a bath?) and even taste you...if you want me to."

We...uhll, Patt, I jumped back. No woman's gonna taste test me, especially after that crack about my b.o. I can't help it if the funny farm men didn't let me shower....blah be da dum...Then she said, "Susan, right?" I bobbed my head. "Well, I know they put you away cause you're a failed Guide, you couldn't keep your Sentinel happy in bed, and he strayed. He strayed, wandered, and roamed into another woman's bed, now, didn't he? You couldn't keep your Sen-n'l happy."

She started crying and I ran to the cushiony corner and sort of collapsed.

Lies, Lies, it's all Lies.

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excerpt from private e-mail

From: PattRose1@cockiewockie.com
To: susgreer@wheresthebeef.net
Subject: Sex, Lies, and who's got the videotape

You ain't no Guide, Suze. You need a guide to walk your fingers across the keyboard. You need a guide to open a carton of milk. You need a guide to show you how to write a good story. And who the hell is supposed to be your sentinel? You don't even have a dog so you can buy that Sentinel flea junk. That woman's nuts...er...sorry 'bout that. I want to know what happened next?

[Warnings: Part B of this contains confusion, indurate feelings and inextricable circumstances]

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excerpt from private e-mail

From: susgreer@whoanelly.net
To:PattRose1@yourmama.com
Subject: Alex, my aunt Petunia

Well, Alex sobbed her sex-bomb heart out then, and while I had the chance, I beat and banged on the white cushions, screaming tautologically in a pleonasm: "Lemme out of this mad house. I shall go insane here! My roommate is a madwoman! I think she's a criminal, too. I thought I was allowed 1 phone call! HELP me, help me, h e l p me..."

I was ignored.

Before long we had lunch brought in on styrofoam trays. Alex had creole-seasoned fried chicken livers and white gravy, with string bean salad tossed with a tarragon olive oil dressing and boiled chard while I had baked pecan-stuffed ham with the hashbrowned artichokes. For dessert we both had Rice A L'Imperatrice with Algarve Apricot sauce on the side. It's not home cooking--well maybe at the Sandburg-Ellisons.

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excerpt from private e-mail

From: PattRose1@keepitsimple.com
To:susgreer@weirdo.net
Subject: you're supposed to be on a diet

I don't care what y'all ate. Get to the good stuff! Where's Blair, and why hasn't Jim shot the Glock yet?

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excerpt from private e-mail

From: susgreer@whiners.net
To: PattRose1@limboland.com
Subject: re: diet

I am too, on a diet, that famous SeeFood diet. After lunch, the Incredible Hulk came to our room with 3 buddies, carrying guns, knives, whips, chains, a blow torch and a shower massager. They went after Alex, and I was left with 3 unconscious men in their departure. I was pee-waddling scared. The 5 Doc Franks then entered, told me I had a visitor they'd let me see.

OH! I knew it had to be you, dearest girl. I extricated myself from the room. Alex was being dragged down the opposite way, screaming, "I'll murder you. I'll murder you, ALL! Oh, god, kill those lights, stop screaming at me, your aftershave stinks like stump water..."

Doc McCay (his name tag said McCoy) gently steered me into a restful environment, all bluesy and greenie. There stood my Doc Blair and Mr. Jim (his muscles were quivering, Patt, dancing under his Tee-shirt.) It was skintight and molded on. I think they must've been going out to Alyjude's new gay bar...he was dressed up so fine (Jimbabe hot city).

Well, of course, Blair took me into his arms, shushing my sobs, patting my back, holding a hankie to my nose, comforting my fears, "It's all right now, sweetie. Jim and I are going to take you home. This was all a mistake, right, Jim?"

The God in the TeeShirt stood there, nose twitching, yelling at the ceiling. "I'll moi-der the bitch. Alex, no escape this time! You killed my guppy. I know you're in here, you've still got a smidgen of chanel#5 from the last time on the beach--still clogged in your pores!"

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excerpt from private e-mail

From: PattRose1@Imdreamingofyou.com
To:susgreer@wishywashy.net
Subject: Get on with it, you stupid writer

I am tired of this ying-yang. Get to the pleo-gee-masmic point. Susan, you know I have more to do than just sit and read, sit and read, sit and read...

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excerpt from private e-mail

From:susgreer@wiggleworm.net
To:PattRose1@whackers.com
Subject: Getting, Went, Gone, didn't I write that?

Here 'tis, my patient Patt. Jim ran out of the bluey-greenie room like a cat...er...jaguar on fire. "Jim," hollered Blair. He looked down at me. "Oh, well, Susie-pie, he'll just have to get it out of his system. Territoriality imperations and interrogatives and interjectives. He'll come back."

"Gee, Blair, you're not worried? I would've thought..."

"Nope, honey. Since we fulfilled all those Sentinel-Guide sexual directives he'd never be unfaithful."

"Nuh--never?" I croaked.

"Never," he replied. "I'm also his psychologist, I'd know the whole story as soon as I got him on the couch."

I blinked.

Blair said, "Now let's get your paperwork settled so you can go home and eat a good supper. I remember being here, the food was pasty and bland."

I blinked again, and followed him out to the truck. I could still smell the odiferous air of the kitchen facility as we passed down that long, lonesome hallway.

Chinese today: Char shu Ding. And chocolate cheese cake with hot fudge sauce. There went the only good thing about Conover.

Two-thirds done, same bat-time, same bat-channel.

[Warning: Susan needs a supply of polophyllin, and who put the Sin in the Sentinel, I'm a Senner, aren't you?]

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excerpt from private e-mail

From: PattRose1@allwoman.com
To:susgreer@whyme.net
Subject: you're the be-all to get to the end-all

Did you get the flowers the nice folks at JimandBlair-Slash sent you? Didn't Alyjude part with some of her Godivas, and Candy sent you some Apples, too, I hear. Honey, you should be comin' to the end-us of this trichotomy now. Hugs for your quirks, but still cleaning my monitor, luv.

Sent Shar a non-ammonia compound for hers-- she sent me a check and a thank-ya-dearie note. Did Tricia send you that box of castoffs from the Goodwill dumpster...uh...

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excerpt from private e-mail

From: susgreer@witchypoo.net
To: PattRose1@Iovemenow.com
Subject: bees-knees to you, too

Yes, sissy. I got it all, and man, everything was beautiful, and does Tricia have fashion-sense? Wow! Haven't seen a poodle skirt in years, and all those angora sweaters....I need 'em, living here in Cascade...cold as a well-digger's butt in an iron town. Ate apples and chocolates. I burgied and maggarted out. Free, free at last. Back to the story, if you call it that.

Well, Jim ran out of that nut house a-fire, his shirt all bloody with hemoid liquids. Write ya back, somebody's knockin' on my door.

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excerpt from private e-mail

To: PattRose1@dontknownuthin.com
From:susgreer@weareback.net
Subject: I'm ba-ack

He jumped in the truck, shifted out of grandma, and we whooped and hollered back into the Great City. I was taken to the loft, bathed and shampooed by Blair. Jim left then returned with some Wonderburgers and cheesefries for me. He fed me fry by fry as I reclined on his bed. His houserules were suspended for me, this time, stress "this" time.

Blair reminisced about his layover in Conover, and Jim crowed about what all the did to Alicia. He pulverized her, he mulched her and buried her in a hole so deep her listmommies at SadoSentinelsMasochistGuides@yoopeein.com will never find her.

I confessed we had a ball then, we chortled, giggled (I did at least, since men don't giggle), guffawed, snickered, sniggered, chuckled and cackled the afternoon away.

Jim got a call from Major Crimes and had to bustle out. Blair and I took a nap. Nothing else happened except...

The Threquel has landed.