"Whichever way we approach the problem, everyone

"Whichever way we approach the problem, everyone here is going to get screwed," moaned Pete. Sophie sucked on her mint reflectively. "How about we draw a bubble on a flip chart and

Sophie's onion breath was tear-inducing, but collapsing was melodramatic, even for Pete. He crushed her bag of prescription mints. Great, now Sophie was growling too. The neighbors

died two days ago, asphixiated by Sophie's killer breath while she was practicing her operatic scales. Pete himself was not sure how he was still alive. He sucked in air & held it

carefully, letting it smoothly seduce his uvula. The oxygen was so good; he hated to let it go. The next breath was putrid olive loaf breath, straight from Sophie's gut up his nost

Rils while waiting for Dr. Fugg. It was exactly 3:55pm! "Time flies when you're having fun", the electrologist quipped as she removed the needles.

It was painful and the sudden pain reminded her of this particular, accute, horrible pain she had experienced on the day when Mike

had revealed to her that he was really Mannix, PI. She was puzzled at first. The name rang a distant bell way down a long hall with lots of turns in the back of her mind. Mannix?

Wasn't he that tail-less cat who used to beg at the back door of the cafeteria for left over tuna salad? To test this theory she held out a can-opener. Sure enough, Mannix stood on

his hind legs revealing he had no tail and was in fact a cat. It didn't matter. Mannix was her long lost soulmate. She slung him over her shoulder and invested in tuna shares.