Inkwell: Authors and Artists

    
ower converter, ended up as the basis of an award-winning novel, "In C-
  

    
ontrol: Knotts", a treatise on the catalystic effect of Don Knotts on
the Valley Speak phenomenon of the Eighties, and how it became part of
the ver-
  

    
y long entries that seem to be a-
  

    
fflicting ri-
  

    
ght-minded verbalists.
N-
  

    
otorious biscuits were never mentioned in the novel.

This "muse" business was too much fun.  Ada was worried though -- did
that 'SOME OBJECT ORIENTATION' written in the spider's web this morning
mean they could be expecting more computer geeks coming in for
inspiration?

She didn't have long to wonder.  The g-
  

    
uano had barely hit the wing when the doorbell ra-
  

    
ng.  "I'll get it!" declared Yolanda, bouncing to h-
  

    
er left, bouncing to her right, bouncing up and down, on everyone in
si-
  

    
ght, singing with the beat, dancing with her feet, singing and dancing
t-
  

    
eat to teat.

"Enough Vaudeville!" finished Yolanda, in a split, red, white, & blue
sequined tap pants shimmering from the sparkler in each han-
  

    
d-bag. She eventually even made it to the door, tripping over the gl-
  

    
um Patrons-of-the-Arts cardboard standups that comprised her au-
  

    
tonomic nervous system, which is responsible for ba-
  

    
oons' red asses during mating season, and other anomalies of
mammallian col-
  

    
laborative behavior, as coordinated by lunation and the ipso-facto l-
  

    
ove ya call ya later ritual.

Neither Ada nor Yolanda gave a rat's ass, or even a baboon's ass,
about any of th-
  

    <hidden>
  

    
to forget about the baboon's behind for one flickering moment of ungrammati-
  

    <scribbled by keta Wed 14 Nov 01 15:48>
  

    
cal wavering between realities.  The veil was thin, y-
  

    
ellow, and viscous, and of an unsavory od-
  

    
iferous nature.  Then, as quickly as it had come, the feeling was
passing.  

The terms, "hidden" and "scribbled" and "hyphenation" floated in her
mind, but she did not know what they meant.  The smell lingered.  Ada
struggled to remember.  It had been a brief, overpowering sense of
freedom, freedom from something, some rule, something to do with
"hyphenation."  There had been a ring, a candle, something slipped o-
  

    
ver her head like a lampshade at a suburban dr-
  

    
eam emporium, heroes, scoundrels, knaves, and n-