Whew, that was close!

Astra was frantically stabbing her knife into what she took to be the leg of the beast which had nearly killed Fred. "Die! Die you foul thing!" Of course, what she was stabbing happened to be the Firestone tire on the right passenger side.

The occupant of the now-totalled Honda Civic sat in the driver's seat in utter shock.

Betty stood by her front door, wondering when the cops were gonna show.

Ms. Slartibaltfast knew a thing or two about rejection, confusion, ridicule and the plain meaness of the human psyche. Her full name was Helena Bonham Slartibaltfast, and she even bore a resemblance to that English actress with whom she shared part of her name. But though she was lithe and beautious, though her voice sound as if she were an angel on high, even though she was quite capable at pleasant and intelligent conversation even in the dive known as Moe's Diner just left of downtown Socorro, she had yet to have a steady date. She was currently 37 years of age and counting. She was a victim of the silly name syndrome.

She also happened to live on the same block as Betty Ragan. Perhaps it was just a coincidence, perhaps it was fate, but Ms. Slartibaltfast just happened to be sitting on a deck chair, on her porch, sipping a marguerita when the owner of the Honda Civic had the unfortunate accident of having a medieval poster-boy run in front of his car. Her jaw dropped when it happened, not because of the terrible circumstance that sent that humble worker of the Federal postal system on a sudden and violent detour, and not because some crazed poster-girl for suburban white trash happened to leap out of nowhere and begin to attack the car owned by that humble and now shocked worker of the federal postal system, but because in front of her, standing as if he were a Grecian god, was a man who attracted her entire person (body, mind and spirit). She felt compelled to run to him, to reach out to him, to caress his glistening head with her now sweaty palms. Of course, being that she was a 37 year old bachelorette and this was America (land of the Sue-happy) she made no move to act on her sudden impulse. Instead she just sat on her deck chair and dreamed...

Fred, meanwhile, couldn't believe what an odd monster had just tried to kill him. He couldn't accept that his knowledge of the world, of the way things are didn't fit the scheme of what he saw, felt, smelled, heard. His senses were being assaulted by the unknown. And he couldn't understand why one particular thought flashed within his mind: why are people born? why do people die? why do they want to spend so much of the intervening time wearing digital watches? Fred didn't even know what a digital watch was, but the thought was there just the same.

1. Fred continues to stand in the middle of the street wiping his sweat away with his towel.
2. Astra continues to feverishly attack the "monster" that attacked Fred.
3. The injured postal worker suddenly snaps.
4. Within the ultra-intra-dimension of the purple void a meditating elephant sits in the lotus position giggling.

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