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Subject: Episode #2
Posted By: Booker - Funky Purple Alien
Posted At: (6/22/01 1:00:44 pm)
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After having been missing for nearly three whole days, Shing has finally been discovered – still duct taped to the bathroom wall of the men’s room on the mezzanine level of the Houston Biltmore hotel. The trio of Chebosto, JimWilly and theBooker had stuffed one of Ants’ smelly old sweat socks into his mouth, so he couldn’t talk, then taped him to the wall inside of a small utility closet. The closet is seldom used, and its purely a stroke of luck that Shing was discovered at all. As chance would have it, today is one of the three days a year that the hotel’s fire extinguishing system gets checked, and the main line of the mezzanine level sprinklers runs right past the door to the utility closet. As the hotel manager, facilities director, and the City of Houston’s fire inspector were following the line looking for cracks or leaks, they heard a faint sound coming from inside the closet.

Shing (from behind the door): “Mmmmmfff! MMMmmmmfff!”
Hotel Manager: “Did you hear that?”
Fire Inspector: “I sure did.”

The manager whipped out her keys, opened the door, and there he was. Stuck fast to the wall, about five feet off the ground, and not looking to good. Shing had lost about six pounds from his involuntary three day fast, he is sleep deprived and dehydrated, but other than that, basically unhurt. He’s now in the manager’s office having a turkey sandwich with a glass of water. Knowing that she’d be worried, he immediately phoned Mustang1999. She is in the room with them.

Hotel Manager: “Now, are you SURE you’re alright?”
Shing: “Yeh, yeh…I’m fine. I had a hangover for the first couple of days though.”
Mustang1999: “We’ve all been so worried! What happened? Who did this to you?!”
Shing: “All’s I saw was JimWilly’s face, upside down….the rest is a blur?”
Hotel Manager: “Upside down?? What do you mean, upside down?”
Mustang1999 (ignoring the manager’s question): “JIMWILLY! Well that answers it then!”
Shing: “Huh?
Hotel Manager: “What do you mean by upside down?”
Shing: “He dropped down from the ceiling, I guess.”
Hotel Manager: “Who is this, Spider Man? What the hell are you talking about?”
Shing (now he’s ignoring the manager too)(to Mustang1999): “That answers it? Answers what?”
Mustang1999: “I’ll explain in the car, let’s get going.”

With that the two again thank the manager – Shing offers to pay her with some of his ill-gotten spoils from selling off all of YOUR clicks – but she stoutly refuses the money. En route to the 1999 Mustang, Shing requests that Mustang1999 run him home so he can get a good hot shower, the two approach the late model Ford. While walking, Shing looks up and basks his face in the warm, midday sun. They’re the first rays of sun light he’s felt in a while, and man does it feel good. While looking skyward, he notices the single engine Beech circling overhead. It seems to be flying awfully low, considering there’s no airport within miles, but he doesn’t think twice about it. They hop into the Mustang. Mustang1999 releases the parking brake, places the car into gear and eases out of the parking space. They follow the “exit” signs, and leave the hotel grounds.

Shing: “Ok, so start explaining. What did you mean? I said JimWilly’s name, and then you said, ‘that answers that’. Answers what?”

*** *** ***

Some 1500 feet off the ground, the Beech Bonanza has completed its circle and is now trailing the Mustang by about a quarter mile. Flying at just above stall speed, the single engine airplane quickly closes the quarter mile, banks right, and begins another circle to, once again, fall in behind the car. Seated in the left seat, JimWilly is peering through a massive set of field binoculars, looking down at the earth below. As the Mustang pulls off the hotel grounds, JimWilly picks up a similarly huge walkie talkie on his lap, and begins barking into it.

JimWilly: “Ragu1, this is Eagle. Repeat, Ragu1, this is Eagle…..do you copy? Over.”
EricL: “This is Ragu1, yeh, I copy you Eagle. Over.”
JimWilly: “Ok, subject is coming your way now. Should be passing your location, headed eastbound, in three…..two…..one. You should have a visual now. Over.”

Just as JimWilly says “now”, EricL looks up to see the Mustang pass in front of his parked Maxima, which is on a quiet side street.

EricL: “Roger that, Eagle. I’ve got ‘em.”
JimWilly: “Ok, trail at a distance of zero, fiver, niner. Over.”
EricL: “Roger that. Over.”

With that, EricL eases his Maxima out into traffic and begins following the Mustang from a few hundred feet back. JimWilly gets busy talking into the radio again, as the plane continues its bank.

JimWilly: “Ragu2, Ragu2…..”

*** *** ***

Mustang1999: “Well, you see, while you were gone, Booker….”
Shing: “WHO! Booker! What’s that useless piece of garbage got to do with….”
Mustang1999: “Well if you’d shut up long enough for me to tell you! When he came back after being gone for those three or four months, he saw that you had the Shing Lovers going, and, well….he sort of went over the top.”
Shing: “What does that mean – ‘went over the top’? Stop beating around the bush. Out with it!”
Mustang1999: Well….he’s founded the Shing Haters Clubs of North America.”
Shing: “WHAT?!?!?!!!”
Mustang1999: “Yeh. Ahhh, and JimWilly, along with a bunch of other guys have joined.”
Shing: “WHAAAAAAT?!?!?!?!!!!!!! I’LL KILL HIM!!”
Mustang1999: “But don’t worry. I’ve been running Shing Lovers while you were missing, and I’ve been defending you every day. I figured you just needed to get away for a few days, so you’d gone down to Galveston or something. We’ve got just as many members as they do..”
Shing: “We do? Who?”
Mustang1999: “Let’s see, there’s me, of course, you, debtman, Jambo, MarkPARR, Matt93GXE, if he can keep from wrecking his car all the time, ahhh, Jeff92SE, who was going to be here to get you, but had to go east on business,…oh, and we nabbed Bill99GXE AND Lordrandall, by offering Lordrandall a bunch of stuff we can’t, and have no intention of, delivering on!”
Shing: “Hey that’s great!”
Mustang1999 (carefully eyeing her side-view mirror): “Saaaaay, look at that.”
Shing: “Look at what?”

*** *** ***

JimWilly: “Ragu2, do you copy? Over.”
Ants: “This is Ragu2, you’re loud and clear, Eagle. Over.”
JimWilly: “Ok, we have subject vehicle approaching your position in approximately 3 minutes. Repeat, 3 minutes. Speed is 35 miles per hour. Are you ready? Over.”
Ants: “Roger that, Eagle. All set here, waiting your signal. Over.”

JimWilly: “Ragu1, do you read? Over.”
EricL: “I read you, Eagle. Am I following too close?”

*** *** ***

Mustang1999: “There’s black Maxima that’s been behind us for about 10 minutes now, take a look. I think we’re being followed. It looks just like that EricL’s car.”

Shing spins around in his seat and spies that black Maxima, about three cars behind.

Shing: “Yeh, it does look like his car, but come on, I mean – do you know how many black fourth gens with tinted windows there are in Houston? Calm down.”

Just then, EricL makes a right turn off of the street.

Shing: “There – see that? You need to learn to relax.”
Mustang1999 (having seen the car turn also): “Yeh, I guess you’re right.”

*** *** ***

Ants (into radio): “Ok, this is Ragu2, on the move. Over.”

With that, Ants starts toward the main boulevard where the Mustang had just passed him. He waves to EricL as the two briefly pass one another. Ants makes a right, and falls in at a comfortable distance behind the Mustang. Over head, the Beech begins another revolution

A few miles later, the Mustang turns into Shing’s neighborhood, and heads up his street. Ants, having demonstrated superior following skills, managed to avoid detection for nearly twenty miles.

JimWilly: “Ok, everybody pull back and prepare to reposition for Operation WaterPik. Just as we’d thought, it looks like she’s going to drop him off at home, if all goes according to plan, we know where she’ll be heading next. Over.”

One by one, six voices click off, “Over. Over. Roger, over. Over. I Roger you, Eagle. Over. We got it, over.”

Mustang1999 pulls into Shing’s palatial driveway, in front of the massive house that he’s purchased with money made from all of YOUR clicks. The two chat for a moment, then he heads toward the front door. Mustang1999 backs down the driveway and heads out of the subdivision. As Shing is about to enter his front door, a sound catches his attention. It’s the hum of an engine. A hum he could swear he’s heard before. He glances around the quiet neighborhood. Nothing. Its midday on a Tuesday, so no lawn mowers or leaf blowers running. What in the world is that sound? He’s about to write it off as extreme paranoia, when he happens to glance skyward, and spies the plane! He carefully watches the plane, which can’t be any more than a thousand feet off the ground.

Shing (thinking to himself): “Where have I seen that plane before?”

JimWilly is staring directly at the perplexed look on Shing’s face. With his high powered field glasses, its as if Shing were ten feet away. Shing can’t put it together. He looks down the street and watches as Mustang1999’s car makes a left and disappears. A few seconds later, he sees Booker’s pebble beige Maxima go by, headed in the same direction. Shing would recognize those wheels anywhere – he instantly knows it was Booker’s car. He then looks back at the airplane, and it dawns on him.

Shing: “Oh Gawd!! Deanne!!!”

Shing turns around and BOLTS into the front doors to the house. Observing the entire episode unfold, JimWilly now knows that the plan is in peril.

JimWilly: “Oh, Jesus! Ragu3, Ragu3, this is Eagle….do you copy??!! Over.”


*** *** ***

Shing rushes into the kitchen and grabs the cordless phone off of the wall. He desperately begins punching in Mustan1999’s cell phone number.

Booker: “This is Ragu3, I got cha Jimmy. What’s up? Over.”
JimWilly: “I think Shing’s onto us. Over.”
Booker: “What? That lame brain? Impossible. Over.”
JimWilly: “No, no – I really think he’s figured it out. He saw you take off after Mustang1999. Over.”
Booker: “Well if so, there’s nothing we can do about it now. We’ll just have to ride it out. Over.”

Booker continues his stealth pursuit.

*** *** ***

Shing is fidgeting nervously as the phone on the other end rings. * riiiing…..riiiiing * It now rung about five times, but it feels like fifty to theShingster.

Shing (under his breath to himself): “C’mon! C’mon! Answer the phone!”

Having been scorned by Shing more times than a few about talking on the phone while driving, Mustang1999 is doing her best to ignore the ringing coming from her bag. Besides, since Shing was in the passenger seat, she had placed the bag in the back seat – behind the driver’s seat. She couldn’t reach it now if she wanted to.

Mustang1999: “Whoever it is will just have to leave a message.”

A moment later, the ringing stops.

Mustang1999 (recording, playing in Shing’s ear): “Hi there, this is Mustang1999’s cell phone, I’m not available to take your call right now, so at the sound of the tone, please…..”

Shing slams the phone back down onto the receiver.

Shing: “Damn!”

*** *** ***

JimWilly: “Well, she’s still following a course for home, so maybe Shing didn’t figure us out after all. Ok, Ragu 3, that’s probably about enough. Ragu4, are you in position and ready? Over.”
TimW: “Ready and waiting. Over.”
JimWilly: “Good, ready your position in T minus five. Over.”

*** *** ***

Mustang1999 accepted that maybe she was a bit paranoid with that first black Maxima on her way back from the hotel with Shing, but this is something entirely different. That gold Maxima has been back there for nearly fifteen minutes. Other cars have come and gone, but its just stayed there. Hasn’t turned, hasn’t sped up….this is too weird.

Mustang1999 (thinking aloud): “I wonder if that SHCoNA is up to something? Oh, stop being a paranoid, geez! Next thing I’ll be hiring a food taster.”

Just as she completes the thought, the gold Maxima makes a left and disappears. She breathes a sigh of relief and focuses on the traffic ahead.

JimWilly: “Ok Ragu4 – you’re up. Over.”
TimW: “I’ve got her. Don’t worry, I’m on it.”

Mustang1999 continues, not even noticing the latest Maxima to be tailing her through the light, midday traffic.

*** *** ***

A few switches later, and EricL is now back behind the Mustang. As the Ford sports car is getting closer to home, the traffic is lightening up and the streets are becoming more of the lesser used variety.

JimWilly: “Alright, this is it, she’s getting close. Let’s make a final systems check. Operation WaterPik, are you set? Over.”
Two voices crackle over the radio: “WaterPik is a green light, Eagle. You just get the bird into the nest. Over.”
JimWilly: “Good. Ground crews, are you ready? Ragu2, 3 and 4. All set? Over.”
Ants: “Ragu2 is green light. Everything is set, and looking as authentic as the real thing. Over.”
TimW: “Not quite, I need about another four minutes to get into this outfit. Over”
JimWilly: “Ok, but four’s all you got. Booker?”
Booker: “Ragu3 is good to go solo. Just rap’n, snap’n and cap’n in the mean time. Over”.
JimWilly: “Chill’n like a true villain. That’s my man. Ok, here we go, she’s at the entrance. Ragu1, go ahead and drop off, looks like she’s walking right in. Get to your next post, ASAP. Over.”
Eric: “On my way now. Over.”

EricL peals off, just as Mustang1999 makes a left onto Sycamore Street. As she rounds the corner, there are orange highway cones set up along the center of the street, effectively eliminating one lane. The other lane leads directly to a city worker, standing there with a sign that reads “SLOW” on one side, and “STOP” on the other. He’s holding the side which reads STOP towards Mustang1999.

Booker suddenly squawks over the radio: “Remind me to thank that Rod J. Swervinhiemer from Roadtek. All those cones are really coming in handy now! Heh, heh.” [pub21.ezboard.com/fmaxima...2046.topic]

Dressed in jeans, an orange vest, utility belt full of tools and sunglasses, Ants has a wig on beneath his helmet which has hair down to his waist. He’s chomping on a wad of Red Man chewing tobacco, and looks nothing like himself at all. Mustang1999 pulls up alongside the “city worker”.

Mustang1999: “What’s going on?”
Ants (speaking with a dead-on perfect southern drawl): “Ruptur’d water main, we’re hav’n to redirect traffic fer a couple a hours er so. Please follow the cones this’a way, ma’am.”

Ants then points down the street toward a relatively narrow alley. Mustang1999 politely thanks him, and ambles along. As soon as she’s out of sight, Ants picks the radio off of his utility belt:

Ants: “This is Ragu2, it went perfectly – she fell for it hook, line and sinker. Headed your way now, Ragu4. Over.”
TimW: “Ragu4 here, thanks man. I’ll be ready.”

*** *** ***

A couple of minutes later, Mustang1999 rounds another corner and comes face to face with TimW. Holding his stop sign up, he is also fully disguised. She doesn’t recognize him.

TimW: “Good afternoon.”
Mustang1999: “Hello.”
TimW: “Afraid we’re going to have to send you on a bit of a round about, we have a real problem with a couple of sink holes that have opened up as a result of the water main break. Please proceed that way.”

He points the way to a street which appears to head into a small industrial park. Mustang1999 thinks it rather inconvenient, but is not suspicious in the least. She thanks him and heads on her way. TimW picks up his walkie talkie.

TimW: “Headed your way, just as dumb and blind as ever. Heh, heh. Over.”
Booker: “Got it. Over. Ragu1, are you in position? Over.”
EricL: “Almost, how long have I got? Over.”
Booker: “I guess about three minutes. You gonna make it? Over.”
EricL: “I’ll be there. Over.”
Booker: “WaterPik, all set? Over”
Voice: “All set. Do your sell job, man. Over.”

Two minutes later, Mustang1999 has followed the cones directly to theBooker. He’s wearing a dread lock wig, false teeth, and all sorts of other disguise gear. He stops the car.

Mustang1999: “Good grief, what – is the whole city coming apart?”
Booker: “Darn near seems that way, huh? Yeh, afraid this is a bad one. I just got word on the radio (tapes the big walkie talkie on his hip), that we’re shutting down this entire grid.”
Mustang1999: “Huh? What does that mean?”
Booker: “Means you can’t proceed beyond this point. You’ll have to pull out and circle around…come in from the other side.”
Mustang1999: “But how am I supposed to get out of here? I can’t back all the way down this alley, and there’s no room to turn around!”
Booker: “Yes, I know ma’am. We’re having to route people right through that old warehouse over there, (point to a big, dilapidated looking building, about 500 feet away), its belongs to the city, use it for storing old city vehicles and such. Just drive in one side, and out the other. Those big double doors will open when you approach, just honk your horn and one of our workers with push ‘em open. Pretty simple really.”
Mustang1999: “What a pain in the @$$.”
Booker: “I know it ma’am, but what can we tell ya? We’re just following orders.

Mustang1999 begins to follow the cones to the big warehouse.

Mustang1999: “This is unreal.”

As she gets to the warehouse, she gives the horn a blast, and surely enough, the large double doors begin to pull apart. In about twenty seconds, they have opened far enough for her Mustang to fit in, she proceeds into the warehouse. It’s a huge, mostly empty room with a shiny cement floor. There is a row of city transit buses parked along one wall, about 30 of them, two or three of them on the end of the row are dripping with water. “Must be where the wash the buses”, she thinks aloud. The doors on the opposite wall, through which she’ll exit, are closed. “That’s strange”, she thinks. “Guess I have to honk there too”.

She nears a center wall in the warehouse when suddenly, one of the buses roars to life! She has her moon roof open, passenger & drivers side windows down, the sound of the big engine nearly gives her a heart attack. She looks to her left, just as the massive vehicle leaps out of its parking stall and heads directly into her path. Its just fifty feet away and, leaving a thick billow of black diesel exhaust, accelerating hard with no signs of slowing down. This is one game of chicken that Mustang1999 knows better than to try. She mashes the brake pedal, as the big bus cuts directly into her path.

Mustang1999: “What in the world is that guy’s hurry?”

Mustang1999 no sooner finishes the sentence, when she catches a glimpse of the bus driver.

Mustang1999 (again, thinking aloud): “That looks just like that loser EricL.”

Half way in front of the Mustang, EricL locks up the brakes and skids the bus to a stop right in front of Mustang1999. She’s staring directly at a billboard for The Mummy Returns, plastered on the side of the bus. Her path is completely cut off. She looks up and sees EricL just grinning at her through the window.

Mustang1999: “What the? What’s he so happy about?”

Mustang1999 senses motion to her right, she looks over out the passenger side window, and sees two more familiar faces. Lordrandall and Bill99GXE are no more than twenty feet from her car. They are standing in single file, holding a three inch fire hose. The hose is connected to a massive nozzle on the near wall and is bulging – clearly full of water. A small trickle of water is coming from the nozzle at the end, as the two men strain to hold up the heavy, water logged hose. Lordrandall is at the helm of the hose, and is pointing the nozzle right at Mustang1999.

Mustang1999: “Hey guys! What gives?”
Bill99GXE: “Your @$$! That’s what!”

Mustang1999 picks up from his tone, that this is NOT a good situation.

Mustang1999: “But I thought that you guys were with us! I thought that you were Shing Lovers!!”
Lordrandall: “That was your first mistake.”
Mustang1999: “What was?”
Lordrandall: “You thought.”
Mustang1999: “You mean…..”
Bill99GXE: “That’s right – Shing sucks!”
Mustang1999: “Why you double-cross’n…..”

She does not get to finish her sentence. Lordrandall reaches up with his right hand and turns the level on the hose nozzle, a stream of water EXPLODES out of the end of the hose. The two have turned the pressure on the three inch hose up to maximum, at this setting the hose is meant to be manned by four or five people, not two. They have underestimated the force of the water pressure. While Lordrandall initially had the hose pointed directly into the Mustang’s passenger window, a second after the water cuts loose, the nozzle is pointing nearly straight up. The two men fight to regain control of the massive fire hose.

This brief break provides Mustang1999 with an opening. She reaches down and fingers the two window control switches. They start to go up, just as Lordrandall & Bill99GXE begin to regain control of the hose. Lordrandall manages to fight it back down for a second, and sends a brief burst of the water jet into the car. It hits Mustang1999 squarely in the rib cage, causing one of her fingers to come off the button. The driver’s side window continues it ascent, but she’s lost the passenger’s window button and is frantically, in a near panic, groping for it before Lordrandall can bring the hose around for another blast.

The driver’s window makes it all the way up. Mustang1999 has found the other window button. The passenger window is only half way up, just as Lordrandall has mastered the hose. Now with the beast under his control, Lordrandall points the water jet directly into the Ford, just above the top of the window. 400 pounds of water pressure, per square inch, moving at better than 30 knots, smacks Mustang1999 squarely on the right cheek. Her hand again comes off the passenger window button. The thick, powerful jet of water pins her head against the driver’s window like a vice grip. Lordrandall and Bill99GXE are now laughing it up like hyenas!

Bill99GXE: “How’s that, girly?!! Smile nice and wide and we’ll get inbetween those molars, and other hard to reach spots!!”
Lordrandall: “Yup. Nothing like daily use of a good WaterPik to ensure oral hygiene.”

Baaaaahahahahaahaha!!!

Mustang1999 can’t move. Her head feels as if its about to explode from the pressure. Water is flooding her nostrils, and she dare not open her mouth. The force of the water is paralyzingly loud. Even with her eyelids clamped shut as tight a possible, she can still feel the sting of the water. She can’t breathe, can’t see anything, and knows that she’ll soon pass out. “I could drown in my own damn car!”, she thinks. “I’ve GOT to get that window up”. With every last ounce of strength she can manage, she again feels for the switch. “FOUND IT!” She presses it and feels the window pressed against her left cheek bone move. “Wrong one!”. She hits the switch next to it – and the passenger window starts to go up. One, two, three inches.

Bill99GXE (seeing that the fun’s about to end): “Drat!”

Four inches, the passenger window is now beginning to interrupt the water stream, but its still too much. Mustang1999’s hair, along with the rest of her head, is plastered to the driver’s window. “Got…to...hang...on. Got…to…get…the…window…up”. The window is now nearly up, the sound of the jet of water hitting the outside of the safety glass is deafening inside the car. Mustang1999 can now move her head a little. The window is two inches from being all the way up. The jet of water is hitting the window and ricocheting thirty feet into the air, creating a Mustang fountain of sorts. The water bounces off the window, screams skyward, then cascades back down in a huge waterfall, totally engulfing the car – it can’t even be seen.

*Clunk* The passenger window is all the way up. Mustang1999 is barely hanging on to consciousness. Her neck feels as if it must be broken, and her cheek bone feels shattered. She’s coughing, and water is draining out from her nose. Her hair is hanging down in her face and the inside of the driver’s side window is smattered with make up. “Oh my Gawd! *cough cough* They almost KILLED me”.

There is a five inch deep pool of water on the inside of her car. Her feet are literally underwater. Completely. The water on the floor of her car comes up to her lower calves. She realizes that she’s got to get it together and get the heck out of there – fast. Mustang1999 looks at the tachometer – 1100 RPMS – thank God, the engine is still running. She looks over in Lordrandall and Bill99GXE’s direction, but can’t see a thing besides the on rushing gush of white water hitting the passenger window. They’re still hosing her car down.

Then she notices it – the window is bowing in! Its bending under the pressure of the water, at least two or three inches! The window can’t withstand the force of the water – its going to break! “I’ve got to get out of here!”. Mustang1999 slams the car in reverse and stands on the throttle, just as the passenger window implodes into the car. The rear wheels are already spinning and the jet of water just misses her, catching the tip of her nose on the way by and turning her head 45 degrees to the left. “Ouch” she screams as her neck snaps from the quick blast across her nose. The incredible water stream hits the driver’s window and blows it out too. The water is now passing straight through the cabin of the car. The Mustang’s rear wheels are spinning wildly, trying desperately to find some traction on the water slicked concrete surface. It finally grips up, just as Lordrandall is adjusting his aim. The car rockets backward, out of the warehouse, spins around and takes off down the alley – water sloshing from beneath its door jams.

EricL: “Oh man – that was GREAT! Did you see the look on her face? She never even saw it coming!”

Lordrandall closes the hose nozzle, turns and slaps Bill99GXE a massive high five. Bill99GXE then picks up his walkie talkie:

Bill99GXE: “Eagle, this is WaterPik, operation was a complete success. Over.”
JimWilly: “Roger! That’s great news WaterPik, congratulations. Team, this is Eagle, well done young men – I think we may have finally shut that chick up. We’ll rendezvous at Alpha point at sixteen hundred. Over and out!”




Founder and Acting President of the Shing Haters Clubs of North Amerca, who's membership is growing daily. Call 1-900-KIL-SHING for more information. Current officers include theBooker, President - JimWilly, VP of Operations - EricL, Treasurer - Ants, Sr. Director of Equip. Procurement & QA - Lordrandall & Bill99GXE, Field Covert Operatives. SHCoNA - Membership Has Its Privledges!


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    The Shing Haters Clubs of North America Booker 6/22/01 12:54:11 pm
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       The H.I.D. Kid Booker 10/3/00 12:30:33 pm




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