She tried to be proud of how she had survived. But the unconscious Mavis ... the passionate Mavis ... the hot-blooded Mavis inside her ... that Mavis ...as tired of being cramped and unused and hidden away.Had the conscious Mavis known what her unhappy inner self wanted, she might have been able to beat it back into submission. But when she saw that strong, young, virile penis pointing at her like an accusing finger, the latch on her over-full emotional suitcase stretched to the snapping point. I’ve been shot at, maced, and kneed in the balls by her more times than The Shadow has drawn blood. Given who and what she is, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised by that anymore.I'm beginning to believe it’s a cosmic joke at my expense. Or divine wrath brought down by Stacey, or, more likely, her crazed Protestant Priest of a father.“Cute… panda?” says a voice with the flavor of Fireball Whiskey.I crumple the napkin in my fist and look up.Nametag Nadia, hips cocked, wears a playful smile on. It seems that the international roadway signs convention holds sway in New Zealand.The Motor Vehicle registration people would like it if you took the Vehicle Identification numbers of a prospective purchase to have them checked because once it's yours, you are responsible for past infringements and they'll jerk that puppy right out from under for ass and leave you walking if it's stolen. If it was stolen and reported before you bought it they won't haul you off too.So ... we looked ... found. Borden said to me when he saw how discouraged I was to be practicing with the junior varsity instead of where we both knew I belonged. "Show us what you can do. Mr. Krown and Mr. Sterling are fair men." He isn't," I said, thinking that he would know I was referring to the Colonel, who had chosen to watch the junior varsity practice. Mr. Borden didn't respond.Freeman and I ran together. "I have an idea," I said when we were out of hearing range of the other runners. "We can still have our bet.