I can hear it, it's a 'pocketa-pocketa-pocketa' sound like in that Walter Mitty story. Every time he knew something was going to happen, that was just...a 'pocketa' sound."Brent touched his ear and stared at one of the bare walls of the castle chamber. "Not empty. It's a 'pocketa' sound. You hear it, Boadie, right? And I see it too, right there. In green crayon just like on the walls of the Slanted House. 'Let's Lynch The Landlord.'"Boadie strained to see anything at all on the far wall but there. Wedged under a small table was a round, pot bellied, ragged, wicker basket. Gregg pulled it out. He pulled the top open and peered inside. There was a dusty turban, a small bamboo musical pipe and a coil of rope.Perhaps, Gregg thought, some version of the Indian Rope Trick might convince Sam of his competence. ?How much for the basket?? he said. The owner peered across, not even bothering to get up. ?Five bucks should do it,? he said.?OK? said Gregg pulling a five from his bill fold. If nothing. “I assume Sharley is still snoring upstairs.”“Like a lumberjack!”Dakota nodded. “She only snores like that after a night of extraordinary sex. She’s been snoring a lot more since you moved back.” Jack snorted out a laugh at that, and Dakota continued. “Lisa and Teresa went to work. Some of us still need to earn a living.” That earned her a raspberry. “And Kirsten and Tina went home the other day. Kirsten will be here after school today. Tina said she would probably come over later. She. He was wearing jeans so I unzipped him and then went to removehis monsterous penis from his shorts. As I did so though, he said "stopright there." I did. "Take it out with your tongue." I looked at him inconfusion. He said "don't just sit there staring, do it."So I...oh yes, he was wearing boxer shorts. I thought to myself 'thisguy was planning this'. Then I took my tongue and hooked it under theelastic in his boxers. I then brought it down to a point where his dickwould naturally flop out.