I'm The Last Of The Mad Ones.

One Of Them Hung A Pink Bra From Our Lighting Fixture. I Left It There. It Was A Nice Bra

I Could Envision It All To Clearly: Stuart Or Debbie Finding The Dented Door Off Its Hinges, Lying In The Snow. "she Came In, Ravaged The Boy, Stole Plastic Bags, And Ripped Off The Door In Her Escape," The Police Would Say In The Apb. "probably Making Her Way To Bust Her Parents Out Of Jail.

Do You Ever Sing In The Car?" "generally Not. But I Am Driving A Police Car." "i Think People Would Like A Singing Policeman. Makes Life Seem More Like A Musical. Like Foot-tastic." "you Can Talk For A Long Time About Nothing." "i Certainly Can, You Charming Man!

I Feel Warm And Reassured," I Whispered. "he's Like Santa.

New Start Or Not, There Was A Line To Be Drawn, And That Line Was Singing Musicals To Yourself As Serious Psychological Motivation.