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Manny charged at hione, so Manny had to turn and direct his explosion at us

“I’ your final checks made up, ready for Friday afternoon Deliver, or you’ll never work again, either of you”

Roy said quietly, “Do we get to keep it? Our Green Town, Illinois, offices? Now that you see these results you got from us fruitcakes?”

Manny paused long enough to look back at the strange lost country like a kid in a fireworks factory

“Christ,” he breathed, forgetting his probleot to adry at his own praise, and shifted gears “Now cut the cackle and move your buns!”

And—buone, too

Standing in the midst of our ancient landscape, lost in time, Roy and I stared at one another

“Curiouser and curiouser,” said Roy Then, “You really going to do it? Write two versions of the script? One for

him, one for us?”

“Yep! Sure”

“How can you do that?”

“Heck,” I said, “I been in training for fifteen years, wrote one hundred pulp stories, one a week, in one hundred weeks, two script outlines in two days? Both brilliant? Trust me”

“Okay, I do, I do” There was a long pause, then he said, “Do we go look?”

“Look? At what?”

“That funeral you saw In the rain Last night Over the wall Wait”