While she stared down at him she was thinking

While she stared down at him she was thinking about how cute he was. Then he opened his eyes and said

"I Cam Belieb In Na Butter." Oh! My! God! It was Fabio! For years she had imagined sharing a romance novel cover photo life with the ersatz Italian. Champagne, margarine, and

the sea gull that had struck him in the head when he was riding the rollercoaster. He had the bird stuffed by an Austrian taxidermist named Otto. Otto had polio leg and one good

nostril. The other had been picked by his hook during the first or second week after the amputation. He'd heard all the jokes. "Playing hooky, hooked on drugs, your mom's a whore"

.. heck, he made up half of them. But it was a facade, he was having a hard time adjusting to the hook where his hand once was. Worse, his "alone time" was ruined due to

constant phonecalls from his mother. She was concerned about the hook hand, of course, but there was no need to remind him to clean it every day with anti-bac and metal polish. He

typically found that the natural cleansing agents found in human blood kept his hook hand quite clean and it was just sparkling from all the activity lately. The couple in the car

where arguing about who would pay the fair when they got the hook. He liked doing pairs because he could watch the expression on the second victims face when he dispatched the firs

t one with his wickedly-curved, pointed weapon. It was more for the psychological effect than anything else that led him to that particular tool. He could see it in his two victims

, two chickens he had braised earlier in a delicious red wine and pear demi-glace. Tucking the napkin into his shirt, he gently nodded towards me. "Bon apetit".