Chapter 4

Ah, well ... writers are accustomed to doing stupid things ... it's our readers who suffer. I had more than half of this installment finished and erased it. My muse has taken a snit about it and WON'T tell me what I wrote. Even if I figure out chapter four and get it posted here ... this stays ... as a testament to blithering idiocy.

If She ... the muse ... works anything like she usually does, I'll have to fumble my way through to the point where she says, "There's a good boy ... see ... you need me." The rest of her comment will be to force me to read it, then she'll say, all the whilst shaking her head in extreme pity, "Sucks to be you, David ... that's positively awful." I have no doubt it is.

So, I have a computer, Nx 9637, who has all the attributes of HAL from 2001 ... except, my HAL is sarcastic, clever and funny ... in a severely warped and demented way. In a way, I'm quite proud of the creature, considering that he has positively NO feminine side.

Th feminine side of Nx 9637 is being commiserated and adjusted to her present position of third wife by wives one and two. That's not to say that the three of them are in any particular order ... they're interchangeable. Number one is who happens to be on top.

"Hal?"

"Yes, Dave."

"What are the women up to?"

"What are the women up to, Dave? Keirstann is five feet five, one hundred five pounds ... Brittany is a trifle smaller at five foot four ... to account for her larger top she weighs in at one oh nine. My computer compadre, having chosen ... in this instance ... at your suggestion ... to be five feet one ... and a half ... never forget the half inch ... is smaller than her sister wives. Although she looks substantial due to the ethereal and most insubstantial physical make up ... she is fifty two pounds ... less than half of that is chips."

"That's not what 'up to' means, HAL. What are they doing?"

"They are eating, Dave."

"She eats, HAL?"

"Yes, Dave."

"Pray tell, HAL. What are they having?"

"I believe, Dave, I have already said."

"HUH?"

"A classic Irish meal, Dave ... Fish ... and chips." HAL chortled ... the ancient MAC appeared with the clenched fist. "YES!"

Sucker punched again!

Later in the ... pass ... rotational period ... day ... god I hate this ... we're so far out from the planet that there's not a recognizable night. And I'm not sure how long we've been up here. I only know that the old Catalina is gone ... and there's a bright shiny new one in the ... hangar? ... cargo hold ... equipment bay ... and We ... the girls and I are living in it. Stevie decided while she was thieving she might as well do it up brown. The Catalina 455 was a brand new boat ... new design ... new construction techniques ... new externals suppliers ... for a forty-five foot boat she was huge. Who would have thought that twelve more feet in length could make such a difference? The extra two feet in width was an enormous change.

HAL has embarked oh a scavenger hunt. He was recovering my possessions. The discovery by the Coast Guard of the destroyed Catalina 33 in the surf on the north side of Michigan City had unleashed the minuscule modicum of my dear sweet sister in law's decorum. Her exact words were:

"If you think for one minute that I'm going to let the lack of a body keep me from recovering MY property ... you're crazy."

Of course, she said it from jail after she'd been arrested for Breaking and Entering, Criminal Trespass, Failure to Obey a Restraining Order, Failure to Obey a Law Enforcement Officer in the Proper Performance of His Duty and Contempt of Court.

HAL was appalled at how soon after the notification of my missingness that she moved to acquire my property. The multi-million dollar firearms collection was immediately turned over to the ATF&E. By the time the court got involved they, the ATF&E, had posted a huge internet auction of said collection and were extremely upset at having to give it back ... the really rare items were recovered by a Police raid on the ATF&E headquarters. Homeland Security got in a real pissing match with the Courts.