But low down, not at the normal height. Veronica looked through the spyhole, and saw mothing but a vaguely-familiar-looking organic-tofu-inna-bun delivery boy. What had happened to the consignment of prosthetic underarm hair she had been waiting for? Thirty six hours she had stood by the door, thirty six hours on one leg to save the other for running after the cat, and nowshe was being offered bean curd. As she opened the door, the boy's face clicked into focus in her memory: it was Larry,from the Three Stooges. For an instant she stood frozen, as the smell of badly-prepared soy curd struck her nostrils, but then she heard the clicking. She looked down.

As Larry grinned maniacally,with just a hint of drooling giggle, a sea of purple mechanical lobsters surged through her doorway, sending her stumbling back, back to the kitchen, where she seized on the first weapon she could find, a balloon whisk. The lobsters stopped, filling the room as far as she could see, and started to snap their claws. Oddly, they were doing it in unison, and suddenly she understood the rhythm: it was Morse code. Holding the whisk in front of her as a futile defence, she deciphered the repeated phrase.

"T-H-D-A-Y-H-A-P-P-Y-B-I-R"

WHAT COULD IT MEAN?

Happy Birthday to one of BCTS Treasures! Very few authors truly makes me think outside of the box like you do. Your unique vision is one in a million. What else should I expect from someone with the compassion and insight to name themselves after a Space Puppy?
Biggest Hugs!

Grover

...wait. That doesn't really make sense does it?

I tried and tried to figure how to deliver your birthday wish, and even designed it. I had it all planned out and it was really cute too. But the FFA came and confiscated it after it's maiden test flight. Seems the government takes a dim view of private space ships, suborbital or not, even when they look like a giant Barney and emit a purple haze as they land. Well who knew that purple food coloring reacts that way with hydrazine? And the EPA is now claiming my back yard is a Super Fund site, and cashed in my 401K (well, 201K really) to pay for the cleanup. They left about two pounds of paperwork at my door.

And now Kermit won't give me back my deposit either. Guess I'll have to find another banjo playing frog. Do you know the local musicians union doesn't even have a category for that? Seems that GLBT protection law we fought so hard for in Illinois won't let you ask about species orientation or something. Well back to the drawing board...

So if I can't get it all together, well please accept this message as the best birthday message I can muster on short notice!

hugs,
Carla Ann

Haven't chatted with you in a while hope all is well for you.
Lisa