Part Twenty-Nine
Gina and Rhonda both stared at the Newsman when he trudged through the door to the apartment. Gina reacted faster, vaulting across the room to grab him by the shoulders in two seconds flat. “Sweetie! What happened? I was just about to start calling around!”
“Ow,” he replied.
Gina dropped to a crouch, examining him; he couldn’t meet her gaze, embarrassed at the damage he’d done to himself in his panic at the theatre. “Oh no. The snack company --?”
“Er…no. Long story,” Newsie sighed. “Could we…just, uh, settle in? It’s been a really long day.”
Concerned, Gina stroked his cheek, then kissed him. “For the moment, all right. But you owe me an explanation, cutie. When Rhonda told me she’d expected you back hours ago…”
“Didja get anything good?” the rat piped up from her cocoon of a soft throw blanket on the sofa. She started to lean forward, then winced.
“You can sit still, and keep pressing that poultice on your burn,” Gina informed her. Rhonda grumbled under her breath about bossy women. Turning back to Newsie, Gina enfolded him in a gentle hug; sighing, he returned it, careful not to stretch his injured ribcage too far. “Why don’t you wash up and get into your PJs, and I’ll order out, okay?”
“Sounds good,” Newsie mumbled, then noticed Gina had streaks of grease on her clothing and sawdust in her hair. She must have arrived home only a short while ago. “Um…join me?”
“Yeesh,” Rhonda muttered. “Showering together. Didn’t need that image.”
Newsie walked to the sofa and deposited the videocamera memory card next to the rat. “I don’t know how much is worth showing. There’s more going on, Rhonda. A lot more! I’m sure of it now. And I have to find a way into that underground studio…”
“I did not just hear you say that,” Gina growled.
Newsie stood, head down, a long moment, then looked up at her in solemn resignation. “I’ll take Sweetums along.”
She touched his forehead. “Huh. You feel normal.”
He frowned at her. “Normal. According to the lab guys, I have a ‘delicate psyche.’”
Gina stared at him, unsure how to react to that. Rhonda snickered. “Coulda told ya that months ago.”
“You’ve seen the evidence; you’ve seen the footage of that – that thing underground!” Newsie said to Gina, ignoring his producer. “Please tell me you don’t think my – my justified suspicion of monsters is leading me to jump to wrong conclusions now! I’m not crazy, and I’m not making a mountain out of a molehill!”
“Newsie, I believe you, and…” she paused, frowning. “Actually, no, I haven’t seen the thing you two ran into yesterday yet.” When she’d brought Newsie back from the hospital last night, all she’d been able to get out of him was that they’d encountered some sort of toxic creature in a secret tunnel, and that the authorities would be investigating today. “Maybe I should. Rhonda?”
“Uh…it’s kind of raw; the camera was really wobbly while we were running, and, um –“
“As if you haven’t been sitting here all day editing,” Gina argued. “Come on, let me see it.”
With a shrug, Rhonda keyed up the film she’d finished; though not as visceral as the original footage, it still showed plenty of unpleasantness. She’d put a blackout mask over her face during the slug part, although she was positive the news of her misadventure had already spread throughout the rodent community. As Gina turned the laptop around so she could view it, Rhonda muttered at Newsie, “Nice working with ya, Goldie.”
Gina watched the film in grim silence: Newsie venturing into the old Prohibition tunnel, finding the slime on the walls, and then the sound of the clattering bug-things accompanying a panicked run for the exit. When she saw Rhonda screaming on the tongue of the giant slug, Gina sucked in a breath and held it, frozen, through her desperate rescue. The time-edited film concluded with an ominous-seeming photo of the Nofrisko building they’d shot before venturing inside. “I, uh, was hoping he could get us something to add to that after the raid today,” Rhonda said.
Gina swallowed hard, and gently touched Rhonda’s paw. “I knew it was bad. I didn’t know just how horrible. I am so, so glad you’re all right.”
“Eh…I wouldn’t say all right, but it’ll grow back,” Rhonda said, shifting uncomfortably under the plush blanket she’d gathered around herself like a spa robe; it was a great deal less humiliating than the rabbit-fur coat.
Gina pulled Newsie into her arms again; he welcomed the affection, and impulsively nuzzled his nose against her stomach. “And you…you are a very brave Muppet, my love.” Sighing, Newsie closed his eyes, holding her close as she stroked his hair. He winced when her fingers found the bruise. “Sorry! But…” She took a deep breath. “No way are you going back down there! Didn’t the cops go after these…things?”
“The entrance was sealed up when they arrived,” he explained. “They say they’ll get to it next week. There’s more, though…” Feeling deeply weary, he met her gaze. “Um, can we just get cleaned up and relax a while first? I just…I really need…”
Gina melted at the sight of his eyes looking even more tired and strained than usual. “I love you,” she murmured, leaning over to kiss his nose. “All right. But this gets discussed before bed. I do not want to have to go to work tomorrow worrying about what awful things you might run into in this quest for truth!”
Newsie nodded, wrapping one arm around her, and Gina gently led him down the hall. “Hey, Rhonda?” she called over her shoulder.
“Yeah?”
“Why don’t you turn on some music?”
“Why don’t I turn something on loud,” Rhonda growled, but picked up the remote to the TV and clicked through channels until she found an action film with explosive car chases. “Geez,” she said as she kept her ears tuned to that noise instead of any softer ones coming from the other rooms, “some things aren’t meant to be known! Bigfoot’s location, who really killed Kennedy, and what certain Muppets do in their private time!”
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Some time later (too much time later, in one disgruntled and hungry rat’s opinion), the couple emerged in the living room again, appearing damp and clean and, in Newsie’s case, a little too happily weary, but at least clothed in warm pajamas and slippers. Rhonda quietly closed her laptop, casting a searching eye at Newsie; if he’d been exposed to something in the hidden lab, as she’d just seen on the sloth’s footage from today, he seemed to be holding up well. Gina took their preferences for sandwiches; while she was on the phone to the deli placing a delivery order, Rhonda beckoned Newsie over. “So, uh…are you feeling okay?” she asked.
“Wonderful,” he replied, blushing as he stole a happy glance back at his beloved.
“That’s not what I meant! Sheesh…I mean I saw ya dip your fingers in some kinda gook at that lab. Any side effects?”
“Oh, um. Er. Well…not anymore…”
“Can the great journalist give me some actual words on the subject?”
“They said it’ll be here in fifteen minutes,” Gina announced, dragging a large floor pillow over to the coffee table and settling crosslegged on it. She looked from an annoyed rat to a guilty Muppet. “Okay…what’s going on?”
“Yes, Newsie, what is going on?” Rhonda seconded, folding her arms over her chest, then wincing and holding her breath a moment in pain. “Gotta remember not to do that…”
“Er…uh…” Seeing expectant expressions on both the girls’ faces, Newsie sank down in the corner of the sofa opposite Rhonda. “Well, um…apparently…Nofrisko has been making a chemical that makes anyone who is, er, exposed to it, terrified of monsters…and apparently the monsters like that.”
“So were you exposed?” Rhonda asked. Gina, startled, shot Newsie a worried look.
“Sweetie!”
“I was, but I’m fine now,” he hurriedly assured her. “Dr Honeydew came up with the antidote.”
“So where were you all day?” Gina asked, visions of her Muppet scared out of his mind running amok through lower Manhattan taunting her.
“At the theatre. I went straight there after the Nofrisko raid, looking for the Muppet Labs guys, but they weren’t home…so I, uh, just waited for them.” The blush on his cheeks told Gina there was more to it, but she only frowned and let it slide for now. “Er. I’m fine. But…but I really need to find another way into those tunnels! I remembered what it was I forgot,” he told Gina.
“Good…” She wasn’t sure it was good, judging by his worried face. “What was it?”
“Uncle Deadly knows where my cousin is. It’s somewhere underground – I think at the studios where MMN tapes all of its shows! Same place that phone call came from!” He turned to Rhonda. “I told you it was all connected!”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Gina sighed before Rhonda could speak up. “Newsie…you’re saying your cousin is in a TV studio run by monsters, which is somewhere underground, where we now know there are horrible slobbering bugmonsters –“
“Yes! Exactly!”
“—And how does someone impersonating you, or anyone wanting to hurt your Aunt Ethel, fit in to all this?”
“I don’t know yet. But that’s all the more reason why I need to find another way in!”
“You,” Rhonda growled at him, “are an idiot. Want me to say it again? Will it sink in at some point?”
Forestalling a retort by Newsie, Gina held up her hands. “My love, you aren’t an idiot. However…this has gone way out of control. Please do not go down there again! Let the cops do their job, even if it takes them longer than you’d like.”
“But – but – you said I should pursue the story! You said I was the only one who’d do it and so I should!” Newsie protested.
“I know. I know I did.” She shook her head. “That was before your friend got burned, and now that I’ve seen what did that…sweetie, it’s just too dangerous.”
They sat in silence a long while. Trying to comfort him, Gina reached across the table to run her fingers through Newsie’s hair, but he only gave her a deeply unhappy stare. “Look…maybe there’s some other way to find out where this TV studio is, and you can tell the cops you believe your cousin is being held there against his will, and they’ll –“
“How? How am I going to figure that out?” He shook his head angrily.
“You could use a frequency-strength locator to hone in on the broadcast signal,” Rhonda said. Seeing their quizzical expressions, she explained, “They have to have a tower to send out the signal, and typically that’ll be right on top of the actual broadcast station.” She cocked her head in disbelief at Newsie. “Honestly. Haven’t you ever been up on the roof at our station? That transmitter is a huge pain in the tuchis! Remember last summer when a big storm knocked out the transponders and –“
“I’m a reporter, not a technician!” Newsie snapped, but he gave the matter some thought. “How can we find their signal?”
“Newsie, no,” Gina sighed.
“Gadget’s easy to get, but you have to be able to tune it properly to pinpoint the signal. Most stations do a satellite bounce, and that can confuse the readings on the older instruments. Find the signal, find the tower, follow the cables down,” Rhonda said, shrugging. “Maybe way down, in this case.”
“Find the studio…find Chester…figure out what the monsters are up to,” Newsie muttered, nodding to himself.
Gina took his hands in hers and half-dragged him over the table. “Ulp,” he gulped aloud, staring startled into the very cool grey eyes of his love.
“Aloysius Ambrosius Crimp, don’t you dare,” Gina said in a low and dangerous voice. He didn’t know how to respond. Or if he should respond.
Rhonda cut into the tension. “So! Anyone wanna share some of my curry fries?”
The doorbell sounded. With another glare at Newsie, Gina rose to buzz the deliveryperson in downstairs, and opened the apartment door to await their food. Rhonda hissed at Newsie, “Lemme guess. She only uses your whole name when she’s really, really mad?”
“I don’t understand,” he whispered back, brow furrowed. “Just a few days ago she told me I should chase this story!”
“She loves you, you foambrain,” Rhonda snapped. “She doesn’t want ya killed!”
“I…I won’t be,” Newsie replied, trying to summon up more courage than he actually felt at the moment.
Gina shut the door as the harried-looking purple Whatnot in the deli’s uniform left, and plunked bags of food onto the coffee table. Wordlessly she doled out Newsie’s pastrami and grilled onions on pumpernickle with mustard potato salad and Rhonda’s sandwich au jus and fries before unwrapping her own applewood-smoked turkey with cranberries on honey wheat. Condiments and pumpkin beer were passed around in silence. Rhonda, shrugging, started in on her sandwich, knowing better than to get into an argument between lovers. Newsie couldn’t take the silent treatment long; he reached over to clasp Gina’s hand in his own, and when she looked at him, he said solemnly, “I won’t put myself in any danger, I promise. I’ll…I’ll find out where MMN broadcasts from, and if it can be accessed from the surface. I’ll check out those stories about the subway tunnels. Maybe there’s a safer way into the monster lair through there…and I’ll take Sweetums and – and Rizzo with me.”
Rhonda coughed, nearly choking on a fry.
Gina sighed, and looked askance at Newsie. “What makes you think those two will agree to work together?”
“I’ll…I’ll appeal to their sense of fair play and civic duty.”
Rhonda chortled. “Rizzo can’t even spell ‘duty’, and he thinks ‘civic’ is a car!”
“I’ll need someone familiar with underground spaces,” Newsie argued. “And someone small enough to scout ahead unseen!”
“Forget Rizzo,” Rhonda sighed, knocking back a long gulp of her beer through a straw. “When were you planning on this subway expedition?”
“T-tomorrow?” Newsie ventured, glancing nervously at Gina.
She shook her head. “Only if Sweetums agrees.”
“Find me better clothes, and I’ll go with ya,” Rhonda said.
Newsie stared at her; she scowled, recognizing the tremble in his upper lip. “You hug me, I’ll bite you.”
“Rhonda, I don’t think you’re healed enough to go tromping around in the subways,” Gina argued. “I appreciate your loyalty to Newsie, I really do, but –“
“Sister, who said anything about loyalty?” Rhonda sniffed. “Those creeps took my fur off! They tried to eat me! This is personal now!”
“What kind of clothes?” Newsie asked, casting about for his notepad.
Gina shook her head. “This is ridiculous. And about as smart as one of Gonzo’s stunts!”
“Hey, where is that weirdo, anyway?” Rhonda wondered. “He’s been outta the picture for weeks now…”
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Newsie asked her, finding his pad and pencil finally.
“Goldie, she’s right about the ridiculous, dangerous, and stupid part,” Rhonda admitted, “but no one does that to me, got it? No one! Not even nasty big ugly…horrible…bug-things…” she trailed off, shivering.
“Are you sure your cousin is at this TV studio?” Gina asked, trying a different tack to persuade her Muppet he was being dangerously foolish.
Struck by a thought, Newsie grabbed the TV remote, turned the set back on, and flipped through the listings until he found MMN. Clicking on it, he stared at the game show underway onscreen…and then blinked…and then yelled, “Chester!”
All three of them paused, food or drink or pencil frozen in hand, and stared at the pigs squabbling over something behind a long counter, the other group of pigs and what looked weirdly like a Muppet girl costumed badly as a pig on the other side of the set, and the yellow-felted Muppet in a loud plaid jacket waiting for the first group’s response. Behind and above them, a game board had words scrawled on cardboard pieces: COLLARD GREENS. MOLASSES. BEANS.
“Well, Carne-Asadas, what’s your answer? Remember, if you’re wrong, the board goes to the other team and if they guess right, they’ll get all your points too!” the host urged.
“That’s Chester!” Newsie gasped. “Snookie! That’s my cousin!”
Gina recognized the face from the photos Newsie had shown her in his aunt’s photo album. Rhonda managed to choke around her mouthful of roast beef: “Oh my gawd they dress the same!”
“See? See? I knew it! He’s down there! This show is produced by Ars Moribunda, and they’re below the city somewhere! Somewhere…” He fell silent, stunned, watching his cousin walk through the paces of his host duties. The sleek-haired Muppet appeared pale of felt, sad of eye, and the way his shoulders drooped plainly showed his lack of enthusiasm for his job. “He must be miserable,” Newsie said softly.
“He ain’t no Guy Smiley,” Rhonda agreed. “That is the most sarcastic host I’ve seen since Jon Stewart interviewed Dick Cheney.”
Snookie Blyer seemed indeed dismissive of the pigs’ fate, as first one, then another porker was sent to a large barbeque grill visible just off the main set in cutaway shots. Gina shuddered. “Ew. He doesn’t care if that…rabbity thing…eats them all?”
Uneasily, Newsie offered, “Maybe he’s used to seeing it.”
“Probably thinks better them than him,” Rhonda said. She pointed at the screen. “There, didja see how the monster with the cheesy rabbit ears just looked at that Snookie guy? Believe you me, I know a drooling, greedy, disturbingly hungry look when I see one!”
“Yeeugh,” Newsie choked, glancing at his sandwich.
“Oh, please. After the way that rent-a-cop roughed you up at the station, you should have no problem eating steak,” Rhonda grumbled at him. “Monsters eating Muppets is another thing entirely!”
“Just once, I’d like to be able to eat something without thinking about what it thinks,” Gina complained. “Even a veggie tray snapped at me once!”
“Don’t ever eat at the Muppet Theatre canteen,” Rhonda advised her.
“My cousin, you two! My cousin!” Newsie cried, pointing at the screen, where a barely-smiling Snookie was waving a curt goodbye at the camera as the end credits rolled; in the background, the large furry horned thing which was definitely not a bunny and another enormous furry monster were swallowing glazed BBQ pigs so fast the sauce was dribbling all down their protruding bellies. “This is proof! I have to find him, I have to get down there somehow!”
Agitated, he began to pace; Gina caught him and hugged him, and after a second he gave in, holding fast to her shoulders. “Newsie…okay. Okay. But please, please promise me you’ll stay clear of any monsters!” She glared at Rhonda. “Both of you!”
“No way am I getting near the nasty things again,” Rhonda agreed. “I was thinking more along the lines of throwing grenades.”
“If you find anything, you do not go in without me,” Gina insisted, staring into Newsie’s eyes. He swallowed back a protest, and nodded.
“I wonder if Rocco knows any arms dealers,” Rhonda mused.
“What…what happens then?” Newsie asked, his voice gruff but quiet.
Gina shrugged. “Then, I guess, we alert the cops. And if they won’t get involved…well…then we’ll figure something out ourselves.”
Newsie had no idea what they could do against an underground army of monsters, especially if they had more bugs. However, he nodded, and submitted to a long embrace, his cheek pressed against Gina’s, his nose filled with the softly spiced scent lingering on her skin after the shower. Breathing deeply, he tried to tell himself things would be all right, that he’d be able to find his cousin and rescue him somehow, he’d find out what the monsters had planned and expose them to the world, and it all would work out fine…somehow. Gina released him gently, giving him a faint smile as she stroked his nose, letting him know she still supported him. His tension dropped, and he kissed her; how lucky he was, to have such a woman on his side! She loved him, she worried about his safety, she volunteered to help if things became scary again --
“Do you have enough left in savings to buy a rocket launcher, ya think?” Rhonda asked. Gina and Newsie stared at her. She shrugged. “Just sayin’. Uh…how soon can you get me those clothes? Not that I’m ungrateful for the sleepover, really, but I wasn’t planning on walking around your place naked, and since my brothers seem to have forgotten their nearest relation’s simple request… A girl’s gotta have some self-respect!”
Newsie looked at Gina. She sighed. “Finish your dinner first. I think the TinyLand Doll Shop is open until eight…”
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After saying their goodnights to Rhonda, leaving the little rat opening package after plastic-cardboard package and grumbling about Mattel labels not being the sort of designer signature she’d hoped for, Newsie and Gina closed the door to their bedroom. Gina sank onto the low bed, pulling off the jeans and Henley shirt she’d grudgingly donned to go shopping. Her pajamas lay atop the comforter, but she ignored them, crawling under the warm blankets.
Newsie debated removing all his clothing. “Uh…we do have, um, company…”
“The walls are thick, the door’s closed, and anyway she’s occupied with deciding what to wear on a subway fishing trip,” Gina pointed out. “Get in here.”
Unsure about the wisdom of disrobing with a guest in the apartment, Newsie only removed the sweats he’d thrown on over his all-over-pumpkin-print pajamas and climbed in next to her. He reached up to switch off the bedside lamp, turned to settle under the covers, and suddenly found himself pinned by a lithe, strong young woman. “Erk! Geez…”
She silenced him with a deep kiss; shortly he was too involved in that to remember that she’d just startled him. Her fingers slipping beneath his pajama shirt and the way she positioned herself over his shorter body made him quickly forget all about the issue of another person in the apartment. Gina broke away finally, leaving him panting softly, gazing up at her in amazement; his pleasure, however, changed to concern when the dim illumination of his nightlight caught the gleam of moisture in her eyes. “Gina?”
“I will not be put through that again,” she hissed at him. “Twice this year already I have had to deal with you in danger – almost killed! – and now I find out you d—d near were hurt again, and you’re planning on going places where there could easily be worse things, and – and – don’t you dare! Do you know what you mean to me? Don’t you dare get hurt!”
Stunned, Newsie held her, fumbled for words: “Gina…I…I’m sorry…I…”
“First it’s your cousin, then it’s your aunt, then it’s the story!” she snapped, holding him down with strong thighs, her hands tight on his shoulders. “I don’t care if you’re a Muppet, I don’t care how many times things have fallen on you at work, you are not indestructible!”
“I…I know that,” he stammered, overwhelmed in more than body. “Gina, I…I love you! I didn’t mean to…”
“You don’t think! You get all caught up in your next big scoop, the next big story, and off you go, rushing right into the jaws of – of – of some disgusting giant bug-thing I don’t even have a name for! And if you’d been killed down there I wouldn’t even know about it! I didn’t even know where you were except at that stupid snack company!”
“I’m sorry,” Newsie gulped; he flinched when a drop splashed onto his nose, and his own eyes filled with water in response. “Gina, I’m so sorry…I love you!” He reached up to touch her face, caressing her cheeks, meeting her fierce, wet gaze. “I love you!” he choked hoarsely.
“Oh God, Aloysius, I can’t lose you,” Gina said, her voice dropping, the anger giving way. “I can’t. Please don’t put yourself in any more danger. Please don’t…”
“I won’t,” he promised, his arms clasping her neck as she lowered her head to his, touching noses, her tears streaming down his cheeks. He closed his eyes, stroking her face, feeling her holding him tight. He swallowed hard, heart sinking. Have I really been that callous? Is finding Chester worth upsetting Gina? The thought of losing her made his chest feel hollow. “I’m sorry… I love you.”
“Look,” she sniffled, raising her head just far enough to stare into his eyes, “I know this is something you have to do. I understand that. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t go after the news, no matter how screwed-up that news is. I loved that about you even before we met.”
“You…you did?”
“Yeah. How you present your News Flashes…always so dedicated, even when you know it’s going to hurt,” Gina said, and gave him the tiniest, briefest smile. “That told me then what kind of Muppet you were. I love that about you; I just –“
He pulled her lips down to his, kissing her fervently, his tongue locking hers, determined not to let go. Eventually they both needed more oxygen, and broke the kiss, throats tight, eyes wet, nerves singing in chorus. “I’ll drop the story,” he whispered.
“No. Newsie, no.”
“It’s not fair to you,” he argued. “I’m sorry! I should have thought of that already. Rhonda’s right; I am an idiot, and I’ve been selfish, and stu—“
“Shut up,” Gina growled, one hand grabbing his mouth and holding it closed. “Can’t you allow me a little emotional release after nearly getting yourself killed?”
“Mf mnn?” he wondered, startled.
“No I’m not mad at you,” she said, though her tone said otherwise. “I love you, Newsman. Every bit of you, including the part too curious for his own good.”
She released his mouth; he worked his jaw a little, getting the kink out of his foam. “So…but…does that mean…”
“It means,” Gina murmured, sliding both hands under his shirt again, “that whatever you do, remember you have someone who would be devastated losing you. Can you do that?”
“Uh huh,” Newsie gasped, astonished at the swift turns of the conversation. Gina moved a little, and he groaned in unexpected response, and blinked up at her with blurry, baffled brown eyes. “What…what just happened?”
She kissed the tip of his pointed nose. “Consider it a lesson in stress release.”
“Yours or mine?”
“Mine. But we can make it both…”
Newsie stifled another groan at the next thing she did. “G-gina…”
She kissed his mouth again, one hand tickling through his hair while the other slid to the waistband of his pajama pants. “Just keep this in mind: if you ever. Run into. A big nasty monster again…” Keeping quiet took all the control he possessed, as she punctuated each few words with a flex of her hips. “You had better…run…home.”
“I will,” he gasped.
Gina drew him into another deep kiss. When she pulled back for a long breath, he smiled at her hesitantly. “You…you still love me? Even though I…I wasn’t thinking?”
“Absolutely,” she murmured, and bent her head to kiss the felt showing under his somehow-unbuttoned shirt. “Mmm…my delicious…Al-o-ish-us.”
“It is pronounced A-loy-zhuss,” he corrected with a puzzled frown. She knew perfectly well how it went!
“Oh,” she said, sitting up straight and giving him a wide, innocent look. “I guess I forgot, what with you away so much tromping down sewer pipes…”
“I think you need a reminder,” he said gruffly, but a smile touched his mouth.
“Oooh. Maybe I do,” Gina said, and with a giggle suddenly reversed their positions. Newsie clutched her sides, startled, then relaxed into a grin. Gina kept up the mock-bimbo act, pouting at him. “It’s just so hard to remember, when my Muffin’s never home…”
“Muffin!” he cried, then growled at her, “You definitely need a refresher course in Muppetology!”
“Refresh me, then,” she laughed.
A few minutes later, she seemed to remember how to pronounce it perfectly fine: “Aloysius…oh, Aloysius…”
In the living room, Rhonda groaned and drew the fluffy-soft blanket tight over her ears. The walls, as it turned out, were not thick enough.
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