“¡You’ll ne’er get ‘way with this, you Jerk-E!”

Kad cackled & twisted his moustache as he held the sunflower seed bag to himself with 1 arm while the other held a spray gun up to the preacher before him.

“I told you, Hamdover:—Haste-Q, gramps; I don’t have all day—give me the house, & I’ll cancel the marriage.”

Hamdover turned to his house, its pink plastic seeming to glow under the low afternoon sun. A plastic doctor sat stiffly, tilted, on the plastic couch in the middle, staring blankly into space.

Then they heard the knob turn & raced back to their cage.

“…only have 1 sheet o’ pre-algebra, nothing else,” said the fleshy creature that walked in.

Kad snapped his paw. “Always interrupts our work.”

Skip was pissed quick when given the nix slip by his shit foreman when he was sick for 6 shifts due to hitting his hip & shin in a big pig pit after slipping on a slick linen sitting in the midst o’ a dim inn, left by this idiot he’d like to kick in the dick, & it took a bit for his hip to fix itself & for him to get fit ‘nough to lift it.

“Je ne vous touche pas…”

‘Twas true, too: he wasn’t touching him. But that didn’t mean his loud, jangling ‘scuse for music being wrenched out o’ that tacky organ wasn’t prodding his ears, that the odors o’ rancid pork & cheap whisky didn’t drill into his nostrils, that the gaudy primaries painted all o’er his sideshows didn’t sear his eyes, hole to thin to fit through be damned.

& what was worse was that no matter how many times he’d move, ‘nother 1 o’ them would always manage to move in next to him…

“I want to thank you for coming today. It takes a lot o’ courage.”

The psychiatrist dropped his clipboard & smiled like clay down @ April. April, in turn, tightened her bony fingers ‘long the bottom o’ her chair.

“Now, ¿could you tell me what brought you here?” The psychiatrist turned to his clipboard & held it up ‘side his face like Yorick’s skull. “It says here that you feel you’re `poisonous’ to those you love.” ¿Why do you feel that way?”

April took a deep breath as she stared down @ the ground, her bitterness hid by the shield that was the plain black eyeholes o’ her skull.

“’Cause I truly am…”

All he could discern from the general cacophony were the words, “The yeast is rising… The yeast is rising…”

¡But the feelings! ¡The grinding, the pulling, the aching! Ache oozed round some vague area round his middle. The alarm ’bout what it could possibly be or mean was worse than the pain.

& then it was o’er, & he could open his eyes. In the blurry light folk in the gray suits cheered. Their leader leaned right up close to him & patted him on the shoulder.

He said, “It’s o’er. It’s gone. It’s great.”

“FALSE: ASSERT you.goOutThere();”

But she just shook her head. “I don’t ne’er go out on the 13th Friday o’ the season e’er.” She clutched the edges o’ her mat & pressed herself closer to it. “Just give me 1 day to recharge my sodas—just 1 day.”

But she didn’t understand the direness o’ the situation: as they sputtered, the floor o’ their bread ship was being devoured by tricerasharks, & the only way to keep them from sinking was to keep moving the blocks produced by BlockFactory to fill all the holes—& only she had the programming to do so.

They sunk & drowned.

But it all fell apart when she wanted to kiss him.

He tried many ‘scuses, but all o’ them were faced with her steely eyed stare & the sound o’ her clearing her throat.

When she gave him the ultimatum, he sighed & nodded & stood still as she hopped up the long staircase o’ toadstools to reach his mouth.

He couldn’t bear to look @ her after the kiss had finished. He only stared ‘way with withered eyes.

Then he cringed when he heard a croak.

Finally, when he heard an echoing wail, he turned to see ‘nother floating sheet. Said sheet’s empty hood turned up toward him.

“I’m sorry,” whispered he. “I should’ve told you…”

But now those 5th thoughts fizzled out into the wind, replaced with unfiltered, high-charged pride as Reinaldo stepped up to the dais. There the Sisir spoke for a few minutes ’bout what his accomplishments meant for the Plates during which Reinaldo struggled with itchy impatience.

But then the Sisir stopped, & Reinaldo finally received the best Arbor Day present one could get: the purple vest that confirmed his initiation into the Scales.

‘Twas only the next night, lying stark ‘wake in the darkness @ 4 AM, that he realized the horrifying consequences…

Years o’ experience had taught the cats eyes to fear their lone bretheren. That was the irony: when 1 marble stood out, this only pushed the other marbles e’en farther ‘way.

Such ostracism, such fear, ’twas unfair but necessary. They knew ’twas not the lone marble’s fault, but the vile light brown monster that, ‘pon the flick o’ 1 o’ its peach-plated tentacles, would transform a harmless, sedentary sister into a high-speed weapon.

“I still can’t see it, Madame…” 1 o’ the publics said ‘hind cobalt binoculars.

“The clock still hasn’t struck 6 AM,” barked back General Sout.

So they waited an hour, during which a purple-pink light rose from the hill @ which they stared, slowly spreading o’er the gradually-clearing blue.

“¡O! ¡There it is!” exclaimed the public.

There before their eyes seemed to sneak the sight o’ a stiff but steady wooden apartment with a freshly-painted white shell & olive-colored doors. The rosy light ‘hind it seemed to emphasize its shadowy face.

“¡Let’s go, folks!” shouted General Sout as she began charging forward.

The publics all followed. It took no time for them to bust down the door & apprehend Nort the Natumencer.