"And by that move, we will have provided yet another function in the maintenance of a good marriage," I said."Go to work," he said. "My bonus needs bu...ping this year."The remainder of my day consisted of numerous restarts as each of a dozen friends came by to get their personal reprise of the wedding and the incident. By two o'clock I went to Jennie's office. "Got some of that herbal tea left?" I asked."You hate my tea," she said suspiciously. "What gives?" I have told the same story a dozen. “Dad says your shooting was unreal,” the girl continued. “Apparently it was easy to tell who shot whom. Mrs. Kramer, you apparently shoot for the head while Mr. Kramer aims for the heart. In every case, there were two bullets on the target; they were all very dead.”“They were trigger-happy punks,” Brad commented. “Already there were seven dead, and Kim and I were glad to be able to stop the carnage there. Fortunately, the bank guard where we were was only wounded and is expected to. Wes screamed at me, “MY AIRPLANE.”Wes nosed the plane over into what seemed like a near vertical dive and steep turn in the opposite direction I’d been going. I thought we were cooked. He screamed directions at me. “Dial in 7700 on the transponder, NOW.”I fumbled with the radar transponder and got the emergency code entered in just as Wes pulled the plane level at about fifty feet above the treetops. Our airspeed was in the yellow arc. I wondered whether the wings would rip off of the plane.Wes. Clobbered my brain into submission. Sticky eyelids fighting to open and close. “Make up your mind, mind. Is this day about to start?” Sundays can be in limbo. “Fuck. Coffee.” She muttered in a somewhat hoarse voice, lovely shutters still closed. “Look at that face. Deceiving innocence. I should’ve known better.” I hoisted my body out of bed, scratched my left buttock. Morning wood swaying in my boxer briefs.“Alright, I’ll sacrifice myself.” Four hours, a little on the short side. Didn’t even.
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