What if I were to tell you that I'm going

What if I were to tell you that I'm going to pay you to do butterfly surveys on flowery flat areas in the spring. Surveys can't be done too early, too late, when it's too hot or

cold, too hot or wet. Butterflies are so picky! I'd help out but would first ask: how much experience is needed? Is it helpful to have a proboscis and be fluent in butterfly

or should I study caterpillar first? What about moths, will this involve night work and what about lighting, after all we don't want anything too bright. Is my shirt too loud for t

hese pants? What about my hair? Is my hair OK? Is anyone else coming? Should we have invited Eunice? Why are you looking at me like that? Oh God! You hate me, don't you? Why won't

if you put up *some* resistance for the sake of suspense and the sense of relief you will" -- For ten years I didn't know whether he had survived my attack, until one day in Venice

a one-eyed gondolier calling himself Paulo walked into my clinic unannounced & lay down on my therapeutic couch. "A mutual friend requires an assignation," he yodelled. "Tomorrow

,as soonist." The gondolier winked his one eye and left my chaise lounge. As a psychoanalyst secret agent I pondered if he said assassination or assignation about our mutual friend

but to be on the safe side, I should probably make sure he was dead. "Better dead than sorry" (footnote 3 in secret agent handbook code 42.67). I put together my assassination kit,

whistling merrily, & slung it over my shoulder, ready to finish the job. I never saw the trip wire trap he set for me. How could I have forgotten footnote 4, code 42.68? Dammit!