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Date Posted: 11:43:52 12/28/05 Wed
Author: Kande's Sis, flat on a gurney
Subject: You know how we can fix this and save you a trip? says Large Marge
In reply to: kande 's message, ""My sister has an ingrown toenail," kande stage-whispers to no one in particular." on 04:40:18 12/28/05 Wed

"How?" KS asks sceptically.

"I can just rip off your toenail! Then you won't have to see Aunt Madge." Large Marge and her cronies chortle, knowing full-well the ambulance isn't equipped with anesthetic. At least, they chortle until a click is heard over the laughter. They look up to see KS leveling a .45 automatic at Marge's head.

"Touch that toenail and you die," KS tells her ominously. Large Marge holds up her hands.

"Fine. Sheesh. Try to add a little levity to your life."

KS suddenly sees a familiar building. "Stop! It's the Post Office!" The group of misfits let her out of the ambulance and watch her disappear inside.

"I hope she gets that gift from Kande," one of the cronies says to break the silence. "I'm running out of ideas for the Mayor."

"Everyone's running out of ideas," Large Marge says gloomily.

Meanwhile, back at the Klub, the Mayor slaps shut her 2005 gift list. "That's it! I've got everything on my list!"

"Whew," one of the tourists says naively. "I guess that's it for the gift-buying and just in time." He pulls out both pockets from his polyester pants. A fluff of lint falls to the floor, where it is quickly grabbed by a Red Speedo Revue dancer and fashioned into a thong.

Kande, however, is listening to Bubba on the roof. Morse code is being tapped out. "Those liars at the Post Office," she mutters to herself. "It's all a conspiracy."

"You sound like Mulder," IG says happily. "No wonder you love Scully so much."

"Not everything's a conspiracy, Kande. I'm sure the package will arrive today," CW adds blithely.

Meanwhile...back at the Post Office...a scream is heard coming from the main lobby. It is not a scream of happiness. No, it is a scream of despair, anguish, rage, and loss.

"Uh oh," says Large Marge as she and her crew look at each other with wide eyes. "That does not sound good. Pool your money again, guys. Think the Mayor would like an oxygen tank?"

Meanwhile...back at the Klub...the music stops and everyone falls quiet as the scream filters over the patrons, freezing their collective blood and creating depression and despair. Except for the Mayor, of course.

"Oooh! Sounds like I get to break out my 2006 list early!" she coos.

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