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Fred read for many minutes. "Private!" shouted the grizzled, one-eyed Sarge. "Don't you die on me!" he cried. "DON'T YOU DIE ON ME!" "Sarge! Sarge...it's getting so cold! I have to tell you something, Sarge." "I'm right here, son." said the man. A tear slipped out of his good eye. "What is it you have to say?" "You have...no darned... depth perception, Sarge, these arrows in me are...yours...I hope you die of brain leeches!"
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9/13/2006 3:37:51 AM
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