Author:  Aqualung

Susie Casseroli sat back on her sofa and stared out the window of her Manhattan 
apartment at the streets below.  This is everything I've ever wanted, she thought to 
herself, but somehow, this isn't what I planned on.  Small town refugees by the 
thousands flocked to New York City every year with the hope of finding a more exciting 
way of life.  Most - Susie included - only found an apartment they could barely afford 
and a job they could barely stand.

Welcome to the Big Apple.

Susie normally spent her evenings watching the people go their own way or nowhere in 
particular.  Some of them just lived down there and didn't go anywhere.  This made her 
sad in spite of the fact that she didn't want any of them to stay with her...  She figured 
she'd try to think this dilemma out with someone and picked up the phone.

"Hello!  Thanks for calling Dial-A-Shrink!  If you have a touch-tone phone, press the 
star button now!"

She followed the computerized instructions until she finally made contact with one of 
the professionals on duty.

"Hi, this is Mitch.  What's bugging ya?"

"Hi, Mitch.  My name is Susie."  She felt awkward about the whole thing.  "Umm...  How's 
it going?"

"It's going.  What's bugging ya?"

Susie shifted in her chair.  "Well, I'm not really sure, actually.  I just feel alone right 
now."

"Ah...," said the Shrink.  "Little girl lost in the Big City Syndrome, eh?  Tell you what.  
Just sit back and tell me your story and I'll - *swat*  DAMN these horseflies!  They're 
everywhere, I tell ya!  Hold on a second, would you?"

Susie held on and listened as Mitch ran to the cupboard and grabbed a can of Raid and a 
flyswatter.  Or, at least, they SOUNDED like a spray can and a flyswatter.  She couldn't 
be sure.

 "Come back here, you little bastard!  I know you're around here somewhere!  I can hear 
you breathing!  Come here, your freakin' mooch!  I teach you to eat the last piece of 
cake and not ask me FIRST!!   *zzzzzzzttzzzttt*  *ssssspraaaaay*  *swat* *swat*"

Susie had heard enough for now.  She hung up the phone and turned on the radio.  She 
listened to the DJ for a while and picked up the phone again.

"Hi, Paw102."

"Hi, who's this?" asked Susie.

"This is Buck.  What's your name?"

"Susie.  I was just listening to your station and..."

"You wanted to know I could stop by after work, right?"

Susie grimaced in a "You've-got-to-be-kidding" fashion.  "No, not really.  I just wanted 
to talk to someone.  I don't normally do this, but..."

Buck interrupted her.  "But something's really eating you, right?  Tell you what, I've got
some work to do right now, but call me back in about 15 minutes and I'll give ya an 
ear, ok?"

"Okay," said Susie.  "Talk to ya in fifteen minutes."

"Aces.  Talk to ya then."  Buck hung up the phone and finished bopping the 16-year-old 
groupie that was sitting on his lap.
 Author: Vroomfondel

Meanwhile, while Susie waited for someone to talk to, we find Mitch running around 
the room.

"Come here you friggin' figment of my imagination!"
swat!  swat!  *SPLAT*

"Hahaha!" Mitch yelled as he began stomping the nonexistant dead horsefly beneath his 
foot, "That'll teach you to eat my cake!"
He continued jumping up and down on the now squashed horsefly singing "Nannie nannie 
boo boo"  After a few moments, the door to his office opened and Mitch's friend Vance 
Madison stepped in the room.

"Hiya Mitch!" Vance exclaimed.  He noticed that Mitch was repeatedly jumping up and 
down for some unapparent reason and after a few minutes he asked in his calmest, yet 
detatched voice, "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm squashing this horsefly, which I don't believe ever existed," Mitch replied.  "Why?" 
Vance inquired.

"Becuase it pleases me to believe that what I am supposedly killing is a horsefly, that
doesn't exist," Mitch replied as he continued his jumping up and down.

"Look Mitch," Vance offered, "There's a great 'show' tonight at the playhouse.  A girl 
named "C.C. Boom". I hear she's quite a thrill."
Mitch stopped jumping for a moment.  "So what?" he announced, "What fun could I get 
from watching a non-existant girl remove her non-existant clothing on a non-existant 
stage in fron of a non-existant crowd?"

Vance breathed a heavy sigh.  "Mitch," he asked his friend, "Don't you believe in 
anything?  Trust me, I've seen C.C. before.  She's as real as strippers can get!  Trust me 
pal, you're gonna THANK me for taking you the to the playhouse tonight."

Mitch scratched his head.  "Actually," he said, "I do believe in somethings.  I believe in 
my cat, Aragornius.  I believe in taxes.  And I believe in Michelle."

"Oh gods," Vance exclaimed, "Not her again.  Give her up, Mitchy.  She just doesn't LIKE 
you. Let's go."

Mitch smiled and said, "O.k.  Vance.  If it will please your non-existant self that I go 
watch some non-existant girl sexually arouse people by stripping down to her undies, 
that's fine with me.  As for Michelle, I know she likes me.  She doesn't realize it yet."

So Mitch grabbed his hat (a figment of his imagination of course) and he and Vance 
made their way out into the wonderful world of the Big Apple.

 Author: Number 6.

     As Vance and Mitch make their way toward the Sluts R Us Studio of Fine 
Dance, let us see what Suzy C. is up to.

     There are exactly 3,242 flowers on my wallpaper" Suzy declared to herself.
She turned on the television, but out of all 56 television stations there was 
nothing remotely good on.  The best thing on was The Crawling Eye, the original
version, not the MST 3K version.  She thought about calling that weird DJ back,
it was about fifteen minutes since she last called, but she decided that she
was not that desperate.  Yet.
     Instead she read the paper for the third time.  "Bored," she thought
to herself, "Bored Bored Bored.  Am encredibly bored person locked in a
closet for fifteen years with only Roddy Stinson to read could not be
this bored."  This time she even read the classified ads.
     Her attention was caught by one strange ad in the paper.  "Wanted:
Bright, energetic, and adventurous companion wanted as traveling
companion to young lady taking cruise of Europe.  Good conversationalist a
must.  Pay: Negotiable."  It's probably a rip off, a sicko, or a
total jerk 300 pound 80 year old, but it might just me real," she said to
herself, "Anything would be an escape."  The ad said to call one
Beatrice Spencer, at the Ritz.
     In the meantime Vance and Mitch reached the Sluts R Us.  "Nice
non-existant hat." commented the doorman.  On the stage C.C. was just
warming up.  Her act involved a quart of listerine, two garbage bags filled
with yogurt, fifteen feet of rope, an unedited edition of War and Peace,
and a very puzzled budgie.  She was experimenting with performance Art.
     As she went into her act, Mitch noticed a large man watching her from
the edge of the stage, only he kept his back to the stage and spent more
time watching the audience than the girl.  A man wandered to within three
feet of the stage, and the man reachd out and punched his head down
into his ribcage.  Mitch recognised him as Georgie Glory, wrestler and
present lover of C.C. Boom.  About this time he noticed a damp feeling
around his ankles.  His socks were soaking up a four inch deep pool of
male drool that was collecting on the floor.  C.C.'s act was a success.
     "I think she's the greates dancer of all," Vance shouted over
the music, "What do you think?"
     Mitch watched a line of men running out the door as several dozen
made a beeline for the nearest hooker on the street already pulling out
their wallets.  "She's OK.  In an existentialist kind of way." he said.
     In the meantime, Suzy was calling the number in the ad...

ÿ