When I came downstairs Tuesday morning, my

When I came downstairs Tuesday morning, my dog told me she'd eaten the leftover hors doerves and now had a tummyache. In response, I threw a blanket on her head and sauntered over

the drunk Dutchman. I didn't want to wake him up so that I could carry my dog into the next

Room where jackjack could finally sleep.

As he slept, Jackjack had the most peculiar dream: Zsa Zsa Gabor was calling to him from a shoe store in the afterlife. "I don't know how to measure feet!" he tried to tell her.

Zsa Zsa's ghost replied, "That's all right darling. Women want shoes that are too small any way. Make our feet look tinier. so sexy." The shop was packed with with women.

They all wanted advice on which shoes made them glamorous. I explained that to get in communion with Zsa Zsa I needed to caress their feet, but then the real shop owner returned

with several pairs of garishly sequined slippers, each adorned by a row of strobing Christmas lights. They bought the shoes on the spot, but I feared Zsa Zsa would kill them for

power, Zsa Zsa was Warshipped by them so it would be no problem for Zsa Zsa to Kill them.

Zsa Zsa looked around the bridge at her officers. Most were true Spacers: some were punching their dance card. The same fate would meet them in the bye and bye. For now they were

alive, brothers in arms! They had shared the most intimate of relationships; they were soldiers, dependent upon one another to survive. And they would die free!