The rattle of the container gave me enough

The rattle of the container gave me enough confidence to run across the lawn, slide behind the wheel of the El, and hit the gas. I knew from experience that I could make it to

sausage gravy this much? It had won the Hattiesburg chicken fried steak contest, but was it worth risking a murder charge? I tucked the recipe in my baby's diaper for

a quick and cheap diaper liner. I still needed one for the girl twin. I'd always tried to raise Sam and Ella fairly, and so felt they both should have their own chicken recipe

for UnThanksgiving supper. Sam and Ella would each help with a chicken and we'd have some sashimi, teriyaki noodles, steamed artichokes, and horseradish gingerbread dumplings for

starters before moving on to bear stuffed with alligator babies and tortoise egg soup . I was looking forward to the endangered species course the most. On Sam's safari they'd

had pickled Dodo eggs, fricasseed Californian Condor, basted Tasmanian Devil, roasted Sumatran Rhinoceros. The final delight was

fermented Zebra trotters, not knowing how to attack this new arrival, I glanced at my neighbour who looked green in the face. Bad timing, a swosh of vomit came straight at me

and passed me by completely. He apologized profusely, but I understood given the alcoholic striped equines running around; it would be enough to make anyone sick.

I wanted to get off this rampaging merry-go-round and grab the brass ring, but the carnival barker was asleep at the wheel. The vertigo sunk into my very soul. (very symbolic)