I tried to keep my eye on the sparrow, but

I tried to keep my eye on the sparrow, but now I was looking at a moth circling an interrogation lamp. "You were looking at the moon, weren't you, but you were not thinking of me."

mocked the moth. "If you had, you wouldn't be sitting here being interrogated like this." The moth was right. And now I had to come up with a good story. "Help me now, Moth. Please

help me Rhonda." Yes, the moth's name was Rhonda. The name's story was incredible. It was a crazy night. Brian Wilson was in dialogue with a Moth named Rhonda after a very long

day at the office. His feet ached, and his jaw pulsated with his pent-up aggression. "What's the matter, babe?" Rhonda-the-Moth asked. "You sore 'cos I beat ya in tennis again?"

That was it. The last thing Rhonda saw before taking a trip to the afterlife was her opponent's fist traveling towards her head at an angle. "Tennis or not", he thought, "I win" t

-- his thought was interrupted by his own fist, which had struck Rhonda, killed her, then deflected back into his own face, killing him. The Tennis Pro found himself in line behind

s inevitable. It was coming for her, and she was fine with that, she just wanted to make sure to take out Big Jim and Carlton with her, death wasn't gonna have an easy time gettin

G her and it was obvious. Bob Carlock knew how to forage and told her these berries were safe to eat, as was the lamb's quarters aka wild spinach. The bus arrived just in time!v

Careening over the dove-eating squirrel, she and Bob boarded the bus that tore through the silvan forest for their next retreat away from civilization and good taste.