Burke guessed that it was probably about five o'clock when they reached town. He guessed wrong. But that was understandable; after all he did not even get up until three. All he knew for sure was that he was HUNGRY--hungry enough to even look in the 'fridge. However, at the last minute the boys decided to grab a brewski and a sandwich at a local tavern.

As might be guessed, the lunch was mostly liquid. They went to a place across the street from the Elm St. House that had quarter beers and town famous soup. Also it was probably the only place in town that would let Burke enter with only ONE SHOE. But he had made up his mind no matter how drunk he might get, he wasn't going to 'barefoot the bathroom.'

They sat there for quite a while. After a few rounds of beer he was getting back his edge at pinball. Then a voice yelled from across the room "look - there's TJ!"

Everyone turned their attention to the TV set mounted up in the corner. The room exploded into laughter, hoots and cheers as the channel 8 news was showing feature the footage: TJ's white baby beluga ass gliding out of the water like a hairy Lock Ness monster.

TJ's moon lasted for only a brief second, but it counted. The production team had doctored up the event with clever editing, along with the miracles of modern technology. Kilgor related the grim tale of a man nearly drowning. Cut from reporter, pan to moon, cut to reporter, finish with a shot of drenched TJ as he told about becoming caught in the trees grasp. Kilgor had gotten the story that he came to get; it did not matter that the story was bogus, in the bar TJ was a HERO!

Production had added a circle of soft focus over his genitalia in the final scene. People were laughing so hard, they were falling off the barstools after seeing the footage. The news folks were trying to tell a serious story, but they picked the wrong guy for the presentation. The story then ended, several people patted him on the back and began buying him beers. He was the mayor of the moment.

Burke headed homeward. Back at the house General Marchbank was starting to rouse. It was Marchbank who found the house and signed the lease. It was he who had unveiled the furniture from it’s ghostly bed sheets. Once he had uncovered the couch, it was love at first sight. Marchbank set up camp there and became the commander of the couch. This was his battle station. Like a good soldier, he never left his post, except to urinate, and gather more supplies, such as Chocolate milk. The coffee table beside him was overflowing with Coke cans, and Chocolate Milk cartons. Chocolate milk, he theorized, was a marvelous cure for the common hangover. At least the pretense was sound behind the concept, but Burke was so hung-over when it was explained it to him, he never retained it. General Marchbank had a rough one last night. He cringed every time the floor creaked under his steps.

General Marchbank would predictably motivate for a short while after watching his favorite TV show: Herbert the Lovable Zombie. He absolutely loved that show. It was about a big adorable zombie (wearing a red bow tie) who had befriended two children. The kids were always explaining Herbert to fearful adults. "Don't be afraid... look, his arm goes right back on. Herbert wouldn't bite you even if he could." But the adults never seemed to understand Herb. The show was filmed on campus at the College of Communications, as a result it was pretty low budget. It was apparent that putty was always falling off Herbert's face instead of real flesh, and every semester Herb was played by a different student. The production staff did not seem unnecessarily concerned that the present Herbert did not resemble last semesters Herbert. (The most convincing Herberts had very bad acne.) The best part of the show was the ending. Most episodes ended the same with Herbert saving the children from some sinister foe.

It went something like this: "Herbert you knew all along that that man was bad didn't you? Your body may be falling apart but your head is sure together." At this point Herbert would usually turn to the camera and wink only to have his eyeball pop out. That made Marchbank lose it every time; he would howl with laughter. Then the credits would roll over a freeze frame of Herbert's smiling one-eyed face.

He was UP now, roaming around...heading for the 'fridge. He moved very slowly, deliberately like a grizzly in the wild. The porch door groaned open and slammed shut several times as the rest of the gang filed in. Everyone took a seat around the great coffee table in Space Room. It was littered with anything and everything that was happening at the moment as well as the stains of past happenings. The radio was playing a great song "No Time." The station WBUZ, played lots of good music, but they were notorious for playing records that skipped. Sometimes a song would end and there would be to twenty minutes of silence or "dead air." The disk jockey would break the silence by offering a lame apology something to the order of "sorry man, I was outside the trailer havin' a smoke and didn't notice that the record had ended." When WBUZ was crankin,' they were so damn good. Burke loved the song "No Time," this time No Time had no skips.

A feeling of melancholy came over the group. Each of them was picking out their own individual interpretation to these lines. Each phrase had a separate truth, and a special meaning. For Burke there was in indescribable deep down awareness that time was the predator. He was taken back to when summers seemed like forever, to when he had grandiose plans to at first be a doctor, then a rock star. Time had eroded his plans like rocks along the shoreline; smaller and smaller, until they ironically became sand-sand slipping through the hour glass.

This was their time now. They were young and following their biological programming. Young-un's had all swimming like salmon downstream to the foamy waters of Wakefield. Many would return home, but somehow they would be different. Time and the environment would make a change, and the pond would no doubt become too small. That is the way he felt. That he had come too far and could never go back. Wakefield was to Burke like the Emerald City in Oz, and though it was a wonderful, colorful, bizarre place, there was no place like home. Only Burke was not sure where his home was anymore.

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAUUUUHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Whoa... Soooory Man."

Son of a bitch. TJ Farted.

He was jolted back to reality. Within a few moments, the air in the Space Room became noticeably pungent, then utterly unbearable. Panic set in. Someone screamed. Like a herd of wildebeests that had just caught a whiff of lion, everyone bolted every which way. There was a mad scramble for the door. Burke saw Jak leaping over the pyramid. In his frenzy Burke stumbled and fell. He felt the pounding of frantic footsteps on his back as someone actually ran over him. It was every man for himself.

As Burke headed for the door he looked back into the room. TJ just sat there smiling, semi-cross-eyed, in that vaporous atmosphere. He looked so funny, yet at peace, like a man who had who had just reached nirvana.

Not everyone thought it was so amusing. Mostly-Bob and Jak were outside the window getting in a heated debate.

"That guy is an asshole" Mostly-Bob declared.

"Chill out dude, he's only havin' fun" Jak replied.

"To Hell with that man! You're an asshole too. I almost died in there."

"Quit being such a pantywaist. Look at Ban, he's not complaining, and he has footprints on his back!"

Jak steered Burke's back toward the group and sure enough he had two left footprints on his back. Left footprints. Burke knew whose they were. They belonged to Mostly-Bob of course. He thought he had devised such a clever plan one day by switching the right shoe with a larger second left shoe at the shoe store. His strategy was this: if anyone ever asked him to dance, he could offer proof that he could not because he had two left feet. No one had ever asked him to dance, however.

"Let's ask Burke what he thinks about TJ s fart." He said.

Burke had to talk to Mostly-Bob as if he was a little child. "You see Rupert, TJ's internal chemistry isn't like yours or mine. Its combustible; it's turbulent. If he doesn't get rid of all those noxious fumes in his intestines, the whole house could blow! You wouldn't want that now would you?" Mostly-Bob smiled slightly and seem to accept his explanation. He appeared somewhat calm for the moment. He considered Burke's words; the odor was a gas composed of molecules-molecules that have be vacationing in TJ's intestines. Once released, the very same molecules that were in TJ's ass enter his nose, and somehow become a part of his reality. That concept bordered on being terrifying..

After a while Burke pronounced it safe to re-enter the house. He was curious to see what General Marchbank was up to.

General Marchbank was in the middle of one of his culinary delights. Chipped beef on toast. Man, he was actually cooking! There were two things that Marchbank made regularly. Chipped Beef, and Meat Loaf. His meat loaf always looked like a duck decoy.

Other than that, General Marchbank, like the rest of the gang lived mostly on pizza. Burke always loved Marchbank's Chipped Beef, probably because it was not pizza. He usually served it with a big wooden spoon. It always made a great sloshing noise when he shook it off that big wooden spoon-FADDADAPPPPP!! It would kind of spatter out in all directions. Two of those big wooden spoonfuls would yield a monstrous portion of Chipped Beef. Three and you had to carry your paper plate with two hands; racing to the table, trying to keep it from buckling under the sheer weight of Chipped Beef. Although it didn't taste too good, it was warm and offered some great sound effects. Burke was primed for some serious sloshing so he gave him his famous puppy eyes--trying to get into a starving kid in Asia kind of thing, hoping that Marchbank would feel sorry for him and offer to slosh a few spoonfuls of that magnificent stuff, his way.

It worked. He went for it.

"Burke, do you want some of this?"

"Oh, do you have enough?"

"Yeah, I got plenty."

Burke accepted his generous offer and General Marchbank obligingly dealt out a generous dollop of that wonderful culinary delight with that big wooden spoon slosh! Man, Burke had the munchies sooo bad, he was breakin' up crackers on that stuff, peppering the shit out of it, and just havin' a great time with that Chipped Beef. He was rolling up the bread into little balls and sailing them around in the sauce, trying to duplicate that sloshing noise with his spoon, eating it off his knife, and just having all kinds of fun with it. Burke slam-dunked about two pounds of Marchbank's Chipped Beef in about a minute and forty-five seconds. He was so lost in Beefy wonderland that he hadn't noticed that General Marchbank had left, he had probably returned to his post.

Hey man, he needed a brewsky to wash that exquisite meal down, so he headed back to the porch to have a beer with the boys. He entered the porch and walked right into a haircut.

Burke knew that a haircut was an event not to be taken lightly. For him, a haircut was a process that usually consisted these events:

* He thought about the haircut

* He suggested it to others who continued the process of talking him into it. "You'll look just like the guy in Three Dog Night" usually was a big seller for him.

* He found someone who could cut hair.

* He invited friends

* They all lit candles, burned incense, and played music.

* Everyone acclimated to his new appearance within three days.

TJ was sitting on a bar-stool with an old sheet wrapped around him. A tall woman wearing braids, a headband, and a fringe vest was busy at work chopping way on TJ's thick hair while he rambled on. She had a painting of a flower on her cheek. It looked like road winding through a forest. Every one seemed to be laughing, but they didn't seem to want TJ to know that they were. The guys were giggling into their sleeves and trying their best not to make any sound. Burke figured that something was going on-he wondered what could it be? Jak signaled the haircut girl and she silently shook her head NO! There was this 'come on guys how about a break' pleading look on her face as Jak reached into his pocket and produced a dollar bill which he handed to the woman very sneaky like. SNIP! A large patch of TJ's scalp had just been exposed. Everyone howled silently again. The hair cut girl covered her mouth to silence here laugh. She seemed shocked at her actions. Her shoulders were bucking up and down, and at one point had to step back so that TJ wouldn't feel her shaking in silent tittering.

"Hey that was kind of close wasn't it?" TJ interrupted his story to ask.

"You had some split ends that I had to take care of."

"Well OK then..." He continued on.

Burke walked around and greeted TJ as he examined all the bald spots the back of his head. He began to count them-one-two-three--four. Seven! That woman had whacked TJ's scalp seven times! The back of his head looked as if it had been caught in some kind of machinery. The woman with shears in hand seemed to be telling Burke not to blame her, or at least apologizing with her eyes.

"Who is you friend TJ?" Burke asked.

"This is Sunshine-Orange Sunshine."

"Hello! I do think that I have met your cousin Window Pane. Glad to me you Sunshine...do I call you Orange, or Sunshine?"

"You can call me Forest Girl-Cosmic Traveler."

"Um-Forest Girl?"

"Forest Girl..." She read the bewildered look on Burke's face. "Do I sense some hostility here? Common everyone group hug. Let's smooth it out huh? Don't you know that you are energy Cosmic Traveler? Do not get hung up on labels, right on? First they give you a label, then a number, then they got you--man. You are a living in a file folder somewhere in a government file cabinet. You are one far out living breathing thing-a free spirit Cosmic Traveler. Don't let 'em do that to you!"

"Do what to me?"

"Don't waste valuable cosmic energy on labels. They are designed to confine." She began to focus back on the task of cutting TJ's hair. Burke didn't see how it mattered anymore that she was trying to make it look nice.

TJ continued his story. He was telling a tale about one of his friends that had an artificial leg.

"Anyway you should have seen all the stuff he smuggled in that leg," he said. "Half pints of blackberry brandy at concerts, stuff on the plane. He had his own transport service"

Mostly-Bob, who didn't seem to notice the Orange Sunshine butchering TJ's hair, watched TJ, his mouth open, his eyes wide and blinking. "He didn't really do that did he TJ? He smuggled stuff in his leg?" He asked.

"No" said Jak. "TJ has a knack of taking the improbable and raising it to ridiculous."

"Wow, thanks a lot man, that means a lot coming from you" replied TJ. "But it's true we even used it as a bong once. You could get your whole head down in that thing-what a rush!"

Everyone burst out laughing because someone had handed the Sunshine another dollar. TJ was thinking about what a great story teller he was and everyone else was laughing at his new hairdo.

All done she said as she nervously placed her fingertips in her mouth. TJ said "well I will have to become used to it, but it looks good!"

Jak agreed "We will all have to get used to it TJ!"

"Who is next?" Orange Sunshine asked. Everyone simultaneously began offering excuses why they couldn't get their hair cut just then. "I think I drove away my clientele" she said and she began gathering up her sheet and scissors. The hair cut had officially ended. Fluke walked he out the door and toward the street. He was last heard asking Orange Sunshine "Did I ever tell you about my Wakefield Theory? You see I am going to write my thesis on this interesting subject. You see I think that this town is really a door to a parallel universe!"

"Far OUT!!" said Orange Sunshine as the two disappeared into the street. Apparently they had much to discuss.

As they walked out, a wonderful lady named Sunni entered the porch. Sunni was like a family member, an older sister perhaps. She rather adopted everyone. She originally knew TJ, but soon had become one of the clan. Sunni was a beautiful woman with honey blonde hair, and a contagious smile. Yes you could say she was attractively built. She had this thing, this tremendous life force, energy. It was very charismatic. One always knew when she was near. The boys all liked it when she was around, and she knew it. Very well. Sunni knew that she had them in the palm of her hand, but no one seemed to mind. They liked it there.

Sunni greeted Burke; she gave him that smile and a special "Hello Bany." She asked "You guys wanna go out drinking?" Jak looked at Burke with a "here we go again!!!" look. Sunni seemed indifferent to the gesture. "So where do ya wanna hit first," she said. She liked to drink. When she drank, she liked to dance; when she danced she wiggled and squiggled and jiggled in all the right places. Lordy! Drinks and laughter flowed freely when she was around. Burke usually felt a bit intimidated when he danced with her though. His idea of dancing was flopping around the dance floor like freshly netted catfish, but it was fun trying anyway. There were those who refused to learn disco, Burke was one such guy.

Every one on the porch begged off going back out, except for Burke, who did not know how to say no to Sunni. Off they went to Sunni's favorite place; a club called Lothlorian. It was a great place to party. Originally it was a German Ratskeller, sold and almost turned Disco, sold and now was a castle where hippies could congregate-a psychedelic ratskeller, with excellent lighting effects. TJ like to drop acid and sit by the strobes.

Burke and Sunni walked up to the street entrance. The doorkeeper was dressed up like an elf. He was a few steps on the far side of ridiculous, with a pair of pointy ears, and an enormous beer belly.

"You again eh?" He turned to address Sunni. "The answer is still the same: we are at capacity... I can't let you in until some people come out!"

"But we have come all the way from the Shire!" Burke said, making light of the predicament.

"Very funny-but I still can't let you in."

Sunni looked at Burke. She could see him concentrating on the task and she had an idea. She beamed her famous smile and said "Even if I lift up my shirt for you?"

She now had the paunchy elf's undivided attention, while Burke lost no time. He had run into the door. The doorman saw him move in peripheral and turned in pursuit. "You did that on purpose!" He yelled to Sunni as he gave chase.

Meanwhile Burke had taken one step inside the door, turned his back to the entrance, kneeled down and began to untie and then tie his shoe. The elf-doorman hurried past him anticipating that Burke was penetrating deeper into the crowd. When he was past, Burke went back outside to the door attendant's post. He signaled Sunni to come over to him, and he stamped both of their hands for re-entry. "I'm going to wave you back in, but don't come he instructed. Burke took one ore or two steps inside and started waving for Sunni to come in. The doorman easily spied Burke and rushed over. "Get out!" he yelled at Burke. "And don't you ever do that again!"

"Ok...you got me." Burke answered and left.

They walked around to the alley entrance.

"That was brilliant!" Sunni said as she gave him a little hug.

"The most important part of the deception is to let the bouncer find you and throw you out. That makes him feel better for being tricked, and since he knows you're out, he won't keep looking until he finds you. We can go in now to a place that is closed at capacity and not worry about 'Jingles the demented dwarf' hunting us down, and guess what we don't even have to pay."

"Ingenious!"

"Hey thanks for the diversion by the way .... That's just what I needed-how did you know?"

"I saw that light bulb go on over your head and tried something."

"That was perfect."

"Guys always fall for stuff like that. They are so easy to exploit."

"Just be careful of whom you try to manipulate. Some guys only have a forward gear."

Again they were stopped at the gate; this time by a nasty looking troll at Lothlorian's alley entrance. Burke showed the troll their hand stamps. "We just came out to--um--well.."

"Say no more," the troll said looking Sunni well over as he nudged and winked at Burke.

"You are rude, even for a troll" she replied.

"Excuse me, I am sorry, I'm just trying to pay off some student loans" the troll offered a lame apology. "That second year as a freshman killed me. Go in folks and have a good time...."

They entered and discovered that Lothlorian was featuring an eminent local band called "Mr. Bumpity." Sunni lit up "Oh Ban, I adore Mr. Bumpity! We are going to Par-tey! I love you so much I want to dance with you. How about getting me a drink? I'll be right back" she said as she began to dissolve into the crowd.

"What'll you have?" he called to her.

"Surprise me!" She smiled over her shoulder.

Burke walked up to the bar. The bar-tender was dressed in a suit of armor. He looked as if he was having trouble just walking let alone working. Burke contemplated: if I knock him over he will he be stranded on his back like a beetle? Considering for a moment, he ordered. "I will have a tankard of you finest mead my good man" he said.

"We have bud on tap."

"Perfect." Burke looked at the drink board hanging behind the knight-bartender. "What's in an Elven Rune?"

"That comes in our special 16 ounce 'Dark Tower' tumbler, topped with ice, one shot gin, one shot tequila, two shots sweet and sour, stirred, and filled with beer."

"That sounds perfect. I'll take one"

"I'm sorry sire, we are all out of sweet and sour-we had a wedding party here yesterday" said the bartender. "Is there another perhaps?"

"I don't know I wanted something really different...OK, try this: pour two shots of gin in a beer, in the tower glass. She will love it ... let's call it "Spinning in Mirkwood!" he said chuckling to himself.

"Planning on storming a castle tonight?" The Bartender returned as he grabbed the tower and plowed a furrow in the bar ice.

"Maybe."

"Nothing lowers the ol' drawbridge faster than fine spirit eh? Coming right up!"

Sunni returned as Mr. Bumpity began to take the stage. The club fixed on the theater as they stepped into the footlights. "This next one goes out to the girl with flaxen hair...You know who you are." He lead counted the song: One-two One-two. The patrons picked up the pulse and added rhythmic clamor. The lighting techs synched in the lighting-oscillating between absolute black and blinding brilliance Flash flash. The pulsation's got louder and more raucous as the whole place started rocking in tempo.

Sunni took Burke by the hand and led him through the throng onto the floor. She could not resist the pulse-the environment was petitioning her. Burke was sure that he did not want to be there, but he didn't want to let go of Sunni's hand either. She had him. It was hard to make their way to the center with the lights flashing so crazily and the floor so jammed. Mr. Bumpity folded in one marvelous sound voice over the other. It was good. Damn good. Electric. The bands infectious up-beat style of jamming took hold of their spirits and Sunni and Burke began writhing around at first soon finding true body syncopation.

The music seemed to align everyone; it was so good and tight. It was the kind of funky rock rhythm that made one forget their troubles and just loosen up to feel good. Cause 'n effect; the floor became one living breathing entity. Many were lip-synching the words or wailing on air guitars. Some were doing the "Mr. Bumpity-jump;" a dance that seemed to follow the band everywhere. There was another form of communication going on that dance floor; like bees in a jammed hive no one ever slammed another person, even if they were whirling, or moving backwards. Across the room through the hazy smoke, Burke could see a guy doing the Mr. Bumpity-jump on a table top. The place was rockin' and everyone was delighting in that moment; especially Burke. He was with Sunni. She was so beautiful, and that smile! The way she was dancing with her hands behind her back and moving her hips was driving him wild. And she kept smiling at him. In the center of his universe were her compelling eyes, but definitely on the horizon were those two beautiful breasts swaying wonderfully to the rhythm. Damn if she didn't know how devastating she was!

The song ended and the crowd began to go into reset mode, like bowling pins. Some pins would stay for the next dance and some would be swept off to the side. Sunni had made Burke feel fantastic. Everything was going right, until he turned back to look at Sunni.

She was not there.

Burke could not believe it. He began to search.

Mr. Bumpity changed the tempo and began playing an instrumental ballad while Burke combed the bar. He looked in the dungeon, and out in the beer garden. He even stood my the woman's rest room for a moment. No Sunni. His last hope was to look the room over from the balcony. So up he went.

At the railing he saw a sight that made his whole being sink into despair. Sunni was across the floor locked in a fatal embrace with a man-not just any man but Mr. Bumpity himself. Her kisses were deep and passionate; groping they spoke a language of sexual urgency.

Burke could do no more than watch and wait-anticipate the end of this disastrous kiss. It did finally come to an end, but not before life had redefined itself and trust would never be the same. Although he was in a room that was a packed as a downtown elevator, he never felt so alone.

The ballad had ended as realized that it didn't make sense for him to be there anymore. Suddenly Lothlorian seemed like a senseless and silly place to be, so he gathered up the pieces of his heart-and headed for the door.