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Pastimes : Muffy's Story: A Short Story Game for Would Be Authors -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Jeffrey S. Mitchell who wrote (304)	10/20/1998 3:06:00 AM
From: mph	Respond to of 766

Willy then turned to Muffy and said, "You look like a Monica to me. Is that your name?" Muffy said, "Close, but no cigar."

To: Jeffrey S. Mitchell who wrote (304)	10/22/1998 11:28:00 AM
From: TEDennis	Read Replies (3) \| Respond to of 766

"It's a fine day to be alive", said Willy to the waitress, who was eyeing Muffy carefully. "I wonder where he picked this one up?", thought the waitress. "We'll have two blue plate specials. Hold the mustard." said Willy. "Hey ... what's the blue plate special?", asked Muffy. The waitress ignored her question, just as she had ignored so many other questions by nubile acquaintances of Willy ... who just happened to be the most eligible bachelor in the area. "Two suicides, 86 the mouse!", she yelled to the cook in the back, then walked over to the adjacent table to take the young lady's order. "Hi. My name's Hillary. I'll have the watercress salad." said the blonde, sophisticated college student. Muffy was rapidly getting bored with all this small talk from Podunk. The desire to get something going again in her life was eating her alive. No, wait ... those were mosquitos that were eating her alive. Huge ones. All over her hot pants covered legs. Slap! That was the sound made when Willy reached over to squash one of them on her leg. Not the slap made by smashing the mosquito ... it was the slap on Willy's face when his hand hesitated on Muffy's inner thigh after he smashed the mosquito on her leg. Muffy got up and ran through the cafe's door, disgusted with having found yet another pervert. "I guess men are the same in all time zones", she said, sighing heavily. Willy was disappointed at his loss, but recovered quickly. Catching the eye of the young blonde college student at the adjacent table, he said "I overheard you mention your name. Hello, Hillary, my name's Willy." As he rose to sit at the table with the young lady, he absentmindedly toyed with his zipper. Outside in the parking lot, there were several semis parked while their drivers took their lives in their own hands by eating at the cafe. One of the trucks had an interesting insignia on it. "Looks like a large 'M'", thought Muffy, trying to make out what it was. It was hard to see because the truck was covered with mud from having driven offroad after rainstorms. "Oh, it's a McDonald's truck! Why would a McDonald's truck be going offroad?" Being very tired from her recent activities, she decided to climb into the sleeping compartment to take a much needed nap. As she crawled back into the compartment, the occupant was startled. "Hey! What the ... who the heck are you?" asked the occupant. "Is this your truck? Hey, you can have it back. I just stole it a couple of days ago to go to Woodstock. But, if you won't press charges, I'll let you have it right now." The occupant looked strangely familiar. A younger version of someone that Muffy new. Why, wait a minute ... the red hair, the wild look in the eyes ... yes! Of course! It was Norma! On her way to Woodstock! What a wild and crazy coincidence! Of course, Norma wouldn't know Muffy ... yet. At least not this version of Muffy. [Editor's note: To understand all these wild relationships, please begin reading at post #1] Muffy wondered what to do now. She was obviously in a stolen truck, with a hippy style gal on her way to Woodstock. "Oh, what the heck", said Muffy. "Let's go on to Woodstock. I'll take the first driving shift. You just stay back here and sleep." With that said, Norma dozed off to sleep, and Muffy sat behind the 18 wheeler's steering wheel. "Hmmmm ... I wonder what all these buttons do?", said Muffy as she peered at the high-tech dashboard.