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Betty ran forward into the street, screaming "Stop it! Stop it!" As it
happened, however, it seemed that most of the action was over for the
moment. Fred was simply standing there, wiping the sweat from his brow
with what had formerly been Betty's towel. Astra stood in a half-crouch,
eyeing the Civic with a calculating look that suggested that she was
attempting to ascertain whether she had incapacitated it, and, if not,
where
its other points of vulnerability might be. The car's driver -- a man in a mail carrier's uniform -- was simply sitting in the car, shaking like a man who'd just seen... Well, just seen a crazed woman attacking his car after he'd nearly avoided making pavement pate out of a medieval knight. "This is not happening," he muttered. Betty sympathized. Astra glared at her as she approached. "Is this beast one of your minions?" "What? No! It's a car! Um... Like a wagon, but without the horse." Astra's expression eloquently summed up just what she thought of that improbable assertion. "No, look," Betty continued, "It's not a beast. This poor guy" -- she indicated the sheet-pale postal worker -- was just driving along minding his own business when Fred walked in front of him, and then you attacked his car. I think you owe him an apology." "That's OK," said the guy, glancing nervously at Astra's dagger. "Really. She can have the car." "Are you calling me a thief?!" Astra suddenly looked ready to do to the guy what she'd already done to his Honda. "Will you just shut up and listen for a moment!" yelled Betty. Suddenly, someone cleared their throat right behind Betty. She turned to see a vaguely familiar-looking woman -- probably one of her neighbors. "Excuse me," she said meekly, "But I'm Helena Slartibaltfast, and..." Fred giggled at this, and the woman looked about ready to burst into tears, but she simply swallowed and continued. "And I was wondering if you needed some help?"
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10/11/2001 1:01:14 AM
Extending Enabled
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