"I don't have a car."

"Ah, I knew that. I was just testing you. How many windows are there in your house?"

"I live in a hovel."

"No matter. How many?"


"Good! Never mind. You're normal."

"I am!? Can I go home now?"

"No. We have yet to make any lasting change in the reader."

"Oh shoot!"

"Indeed," he agreed, retorting less loudly. "What to do, what to do?" Bob stood staring skyward tapping his fingers.

"Hey, I've got an idea!" Madeline enthusiastically exclaimed.

"My, but you're an exclaimer."

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed in embarrassment.

"Not to worry, I've always had a thing about cheerleaders. Please continue."

She continued her exclaiming, cheeks aglow, "Well, your fingers tapping could be used to pace and lead my enthusiasm down to the point that my brain might start functioning again!"

"Nah... too much risk of secondary gain. Men would lose interest in you and possibly be intimidated by new skills you could learn like forming and expressing opinions and fixing your own car."

"You really think so!?" she squealed.

"Take my word for it. What I'm looking for is something dazzling," the power returning to his retortiveness, "something visually spectacular! Boy meets girl, boy solves girl's problem while still keeping her on a leash, boy has sex with girl!"

"Up to this point, she hadn't noticed the director's cap and dark glasses he had been wearing. Her brain flooded with a mixture of emotions best summed up by the word 'Wow!'

"Stick with me kid and you'll go far," he torted for the first time.

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