Cain walked into class and saw that the only

Cain walked into class and saw that the only empty seat was next to the teacher. He sighed and sat down when Aricin sat next to him and held out his hand. Cain looked at him and

grinned. "Aricin, you old devil, you know I don't shake hands," Cain said with a laugh. "I much prefer to

play tongue hockey." The school buzzer sounded. Aricin got stern. "Cain, you're my friend but that just sends the wrong message. So how about a psychic nod?" Cain guffawed and

then killed his brother. Cain hated his brother. Hated. Cain knitted afgans for his dad, but his dad never wore them. His brother, drank beer with his dad, they watched porn togeth

er. Cain had just buried the body under the orchard tree. Adam arrived sporting the afgan Cain had knit. "You know, this is better than a fig leaf, thanks. You seen Abel?"

Cain felt a knot in his throat & coughed up an asymmetrical Pashtun knot. He said "I imagine he's a rug's throw from here." He'd rolled Cain's body in a Taimani. Adam shrugged,

indifferent to the proceedings. He sat down on the rug and sighed, wishing he'd never left his job as a salami taster. It had paid well, and had good hours, but now he was a hitman

& nibbled at its edges to make it look like an angel. What surprised Fr. Carl working for the Vatican was that angels looked nothing like people. Still, secretly saving the world

from the unstoppable invasion of the mutant prettzels, if he didn't made his choice so quickly the world would've been rulled by a salty tyranny.