Beacon Park

	Corner Lane follows a long, lazy curve, circling the northern 
half of the large plot of land set aside for the Beacon Harbor Park. 
Old Schoolhouse Road circles the park along the southern half, meeting 
Corner Lane at two points to provide a "moat" of roadway around the 
vast park. Two parking structures, one on the north outside rim of the 
park, and the other on the south side, provide parking for Navigator 
Stadium home of Beacon Harbor's own baseball team which sits between 
the two structures. Most of the park is filled with roughly landscaped 
lawns and concrete sidewalks that follow the semi-hilly terrain. There 
are a lot of trees in the park, creating a thick canopy of green over 
this part of the city, and blocking most of the buildings from the 
sight of the park's visitors. In the southern corner of the park are 
several public tennis courts as well as a place for volleyball.

Meg tosses her pom poms down and runs across the park. She goes up on 
her toes and starts running toward Mike like a locamotive, then tumbles 
into a cartwheel, back flip and round-off hand spring. "Ta da!" she 
chirps happily as she lands. If you could bottle this energy...

Mike applauds with apparently genuine enthusiasm. "Encore!" he yells 
cheerfully. And she didn't have any kind of accident, despite his 
presence, which is definitely a plus.

Meg does a couple walk overs and stops before Mike. "All that ballet 
and gymnastics paid off, eh?"

Mike shakes his head a little, amused. "Evidently. You planning on 
making a career out of this? Gonna hang around Packers games and dance 
at people?" His tone is gentle teasing, with no malice. I mean, come 
on. Malice? From Mike?

"No, I'm going to be a doctor, remember? Sheesh, you sure forget things 
easily, Uncle Mike," she intones with a grin. "Guess what?"

Mike pretends to think. "Um - they repealed Prohibition?"

Meg shakes her head and laughs. "Well, yeah, there is that, but I met 
some superheroes. Two of them."

Mike blinks, frowning a little. "Really," he says levelly. "How'd it 
go?"
"It was awesome, of course." I got flown around and stuff." She grins 
wildly and giggles. "And the other guy did all this cool stuff with 
grapling hooks." She shrugs and tries to play non-chalant.

Mike blinks. "Flown around? You got - who was it who was flying you 
around? You could hurt yourself," he adds half-heartedly.

Meg laughs and waves a hand. "Hurt myself? Superman is like a total 
buff guy, Mike. He would die before letting me fall. Gosh he's cute," 
she murmurs dreamily.

Mike chuckles. "Cute," he repeats, grinning. "Is that what a guy has to 
do to be considered cute around here? Because your friends are gonna be 
disappointed in me, I think."

Meg smiles and shrugs. "Works for me. He is so cool. He told me to call 
on him when ever I am in trouble." She bends over and picks up her pom 
poms and wanders closer to Mike.

Mike grins. "He's like a lifeguard or something, huh?" He belatedly 
remembers that he came into the park with a basketball, and casts about 
vaguely. "Um - did you see where my ball went?"

Meg motions over toward a row of hedges absently. "Yeah, but he is much 
cooler. I met Batman too. I think I am a super magnet." She giggles at 
her lame joke.

Mike ambles over to the hedges and starts searching through them. 
"Super magnet? I wondered why you had those iron railings attached to 
your back."

Blake wanders into view at this point, from the direction of 
Schoolhouse Road, an old canvas bag slung over one shoulder. He is 
shuffling through a stack of papers and grumbling. He leaves a trail of 
papers as he walks, not seeming too concerned with the fate of his 
reading material.

Meg is now bouncing around as she watches Mike rummage through the 
bushes to find his ball. "Warmer, warmer, no cold, cold," she taunts 
from where she is.

Mike looks over his shoulder. "Hey, you're not helping. Am I at least 
in the right hedge here?"

Blake narrowly avoids tripping over a basketball. He pauses in his 
walking to glare at it. "Kidsch," he mutters.

"Mike, Blake almost tripped over your basketball," she chants like a 
bratty little sister. "Hi Blake," she murmurs to him with a smile and 
wave.

Mike rolls his eyes heavenward and jogs over to get his ball. "Hi," he 
says to Blake. "Ignore her, she's had too much coffee."

"I haven't had any coffee today," she says in her defense, grinning at 
Blake. "You just missed all the cheerleaders."

Blake barely glances up from the scattering papers. "Hm," he says to 
Mike, starting to walk past him. Then he stops. "Wha?" he says to Meg.

Mike blinks at Blake, somewhat offended. He mutters something under his 
breath and bounces the ball a couple of times.

Meg shrugs up her shoulders and glances to Mike, then back at Blake. 
"Um, hello?"

Blake blinks at Meg, then back at the papers, then at his surroundings. 
He seems disoriented. Finally he shakes his head and stuffs the 
remaining papers in his bag. "I'm schorry," he says at last. "I didn't 
schee you. Hi." He blinks over in Mike's direction. "Oh hi again," he 
says, apparently not having seen Mike either. Nope, he isn't with it.

Mike wanders a bit closer, bouncing the ball. Bounce. Bounce. "What's 
the matter, someone hit you with a brick or something?"

Blake has to think about that. "Not that I recall."

Meg barks out a laugh, then covers her mouth giving Mike the strangest 
look. "Um, what are you working on?" she asks Blake, peering at the 
stack of papers.

Mike just sort of stares for a moment. Bounce. Bounce. Hm. Weird guy.

Blake pauses to rub at his eyes. "Nothing anymore," he says. He looks 
around again. "I don't think I meant to end up here," he comments.

Mike looks vaguely amused, as ever. "You been drinking?" he asks Blake.

Blake scowls at Mike. "No," he tells him. "I just..." He looks around 
again. "I guessch I'm juscht tired." He shrugs.

Jay walks into view from the northeast, walking quietly, with his hands 
stuck in his leather jacket (even though it's not in his desc), 
enjoying the walk around the park. Nowadays, considering his second 
'retirement' from crimefighting, walking around is about the only thing 
Jay does anymore with any sort of regularity. He seemingly wanders 
aimlessly along the path, coming closer, although as of yet not looking 
up and noticing any of you.

Mike blinks, a little taken aback by the scowl. "Sorry." He bounces the 
basketball a couple more times, as cover.

While watching the little conversation, Meg half heartedly does the 
motions of a cheer, clearly dissatisfied with the ending. "Hmm, arms up 
or down, up or down. Not really a field goal cheer, so maybe down," she 
murmurs, glancing over at the approach of Jay. She quickly slips her 
pom pom clad hands behind her back and nibbles on her lip. "You guys," 
she whispers to Mike and Blake.

Jay blinks as an errant flyer blows up against him. He stoops down, 
picking it up, and glancing over it.

Mike blinks at Meg. "Huh?" he says. Not teribly quick on the uptake.

Blake blinks and glances around, totally obvlious. "What?"

Meg hops over to Mike and leans closer. "That's Psionix, yeah? He's 
like, totally depressed. I met him the other day. Really cute though," 
she notes as she peers past Mike to have a look at him. "I think all 
the heroes around here are like totally hot."

Blake frowns. "Who'sch Pschionix?"

Jay glances up, hearing his name, even from this distance. He looks at 
the three of you curiously. o O (Hmm... two strangers... and Meg...) He 
blinks. o O (Dang, she looks cute in that...) He blushes suddenly... 
hopefully it isn't noticed. He walks a little closer.

Mike looks around at Jay, smiling a bit at what Meg says. "Totally," he 
says absently, then waves at Jay. "Hi," he calls.

Jay nods as he joins the group. "Hi..." He looks at Meg. "Hi Meg... 
hope I didn't frighten you away a few days ago with the talk Jessica 
and I were having."

Blake is still trying to form some kind of coherent thought. He doesn't 
comment.

Meg scratches at her cheek and smiles. "Hi. No, no, I just had to 
leave," she lies to Jay. . o 0 (Uh, did he look this cute the other 
day? Wonder what Blake has been smoking?)

Mike casually puts an arm round Meg's shoulders, giving Jay an 'I'm 
prepared to like you but if you cause Meg any harm I'll knock your 
block off' sort of look. *You* know. Everyone's Dad can do it.

Blake looks from person to person. He knows he missed something. But 
thinking hurts so he decides to overlook it.

Jay blinks at Meg, and surpresses a small smile. o O (My, what thoughts 
we have running through our mind...) It becomes harder to surpress it 
when Mike puts his arm around her. o O (Boyfriend...? Hmm... can't 
tell.) He nods. "I see..."

Meg looks over at Blake and snaps her fingers before his face. "Wake 
up, guy. You look totally stoned." She giggles and glances up at Mike. 
. o 0 (Sure, just cramp my style, why don't you? Damn I have homework I 
should be doing.)

Mike says, still fairly upbeat, "Gonna introduce us, Meg?" Still 
watching Jay.

Blake blinks a couple of times and frowns. "Wake up?" He looks 
enlightened. "I *knew* I forgot schomething. I forgot to schleep again. 
I hate that."

Blake looks at Mike. "What day isch it?"

Mike blinks at him. "Um." He's not too sure either.

Jay shrugs. "She got it right the first time, actually... but please, 
just call me Jay. Psionix is..." He bites his lip slightly. "Psionix is 
retired."

Meg shifts her gaze down to the ground, then eyes Mike a moment. "So, 
um, anyway, did you like my half-time tumbling routine?" She bats her 
eyes at him and nudges her elbow into his side. . o 0 (Oh gosh that 
sounded stupid. Hmm, retired, weird.) "Why are you, er, why is he 
retired?" she asks suddenly.

Mike grins at Meg. "Course I liked it. You're good." He's beginning to 
lose track of all the conversations now. "I think it's either Monday or 
Tuesday," he tells Blake, "cos I nearly got run over by a garbage truck 
this morning."

Blake ahas. That comment made more sense than anything else he'd heard 
all day.

Blake frowns at Mike. "Jogging again? I thought I told you to cut 
back."

Jay hmms. "Well... you saw Jessica's reaction to my former career... 
and with the responses I've been getting... it's better for me to just 
move on with life as best as I can, without trying to play at being a 
hero. The public doesn't want me... I'm simply complying with their 
wishes as best as I can."

Mike shrugs slightly. "It's either that or sit in watching crappy 
movies on TV, and I don't do that." He looks at Jay with some interest.

Blake nods. "You gotta watch out for TV, moscht of thosche schtaschions 
are run by Republicans."

"It's Tuesday," she announces giving Mike a smirk. "Can I offer you a 
calendar and a watch for Christmas?" She glances to Jay and blinks. 
"What a fatalistic attitude. Maybe you should consult with some less 
negative people." . o 0 (Uh oh, was that bitchy? Ok, fix that Meg.) "I 
mean, you should talk to someone like me. Jessica seemed a little harsh 
on you." . o 0 (Ok, not perfect, but better.)

Mike looks a little alarmed. "They are? Jeez. That's ruined PBS 
forever." He blinks at Meg, but resists saying 'huh?' again because he 
doesn't want to interrupt.

Jay smiles a little at Meg. o O (Fresh... spunky... I like that.) 
"Okay..." he says with a smile. "Humor me for a moment, then... and 
tell me why I should go back to being Psionix again." Talk about 
putting someone on the spot.

"Um, because the Green Goblin blew up my car and I could of used some 
hunky hero on scene." She grins and winces a bit, facepalming after 
saying that. . o 0 (Oh, smooth, Meg. You're just a regular dork 
tonight.)

Jay blinks. "Blew up your car?" He sighs. "Sheesh... leave the hero biz 
for a week and this stuff happens..." He smiles a little bit, seeing 
your reaction. "It's okay... though I'll admit you're the first to call 
me 'hunky'..."

Blake frowns "Well, if it'sch only Tueschday I'm okay, then," he says. 
He puts a hand on his bag to make sure the flyers are still there. 
"Gotta deliver thesche..."

Mike glances at Jay. "Don't be flattered, she thinks everyone's cute," 
he says, grinning. Then, to Blake, "What are they?"

Meg cowers from the 'h' word being tossed back her and looks up at Mike 
with this pleading look. . o 0 (Please speak, Mike, deliver me from my 
retardation. Oh God, thanks.)

Meg pokes Mike in the ribs and knocks his basketball out of his hand. 
"Oops." It goes bouncing happily away. "Better go get that, sport." . o 
0 (And take your time.)

Jay does, however, blush slightly at the thought. o O (Hmm... 
tempted... but I'm not sure if she'd be interested... maybe...)

Blake glances down at his bag, now. "Flyersch," he answers Mike 
intelligently.

Mike nods to Blake, then heys as Meg knocks the ball away. "You could 
look up the word 'subtle'," he grumbles, and jogs off after it.

"Yeah? Go fetch me a dictionary, eh Uncle Mike?" Something about the 
way she says 'uncle' seems to resonate around the park. She glances to 
Jay and smiles. "Well? Hero Boy coming back anytime soon? I think all 
you need is some good PR."

Blake passes a hand over his eyes and notices Mike's left the immediate 
vicinity. he pauses, then turns to go, seemingly picking a direction at 
random.

Jay hmms. "Maybe you'd like to do the PR for me, Meg?"

Mike chases the ball, grumbling about darn kids. This from a guy who 
looks about twenty-five himself, most of the time. He collects the ball 
and starts heading back, realizes Blake is wandering off and calls. 
"Hey, you *came* that way."

Meg looks over at Blake and quirks up a brow. "Where are you going, 
Blake?" Oh, Jay speaks. She turns back toward him and blinks. "Um, 
well, I'm not really well versed in the finessing of public relations, 
but I can't do any worse than doing nothing at all." She furrows her 
brow and seems confused by whatever she just said.

Jay chuckles softly. "I see..." He hmms, seemingly debating something 
is his mind for a moment. "Umm... I know we don't know each other that 
well... but would you perhaps be interested in..." He pauses for a 
moment. "In maybe... going out sometime? Like dinner or something?" o O 
(Smooth, Jay, real smooth... barely eight months since your fiancee 
dumps you for the metal Russian, and you've completely list your edge 
with asking out women...)

Blake looks around when people call to him. "Huh?" He takes note of the 
direction he's pointed. "I *thought* I lived that way..."

Mike heads in Blake's general direction. "Hold on a sec, anyway, I 
wanna see those flyers. Did you draw them? He draws," he adds to the 
others, oblivious of whether they're listening.

Blake turns to Mike. "No I juscht copied them."

Meg appears speechless and glances at Blake, as if he could be any help 
at this moment. . o 0 (Oh no, come back, come back, come back. Ok, you 
can do this Meg. You were a girlfriend for two years, this is cake." 
She looks back at Jay and smiles. "Um, yeah, sure, I guess." . o 0 
(Well, that sucked. And you nearly had a perfect SAT score, idiot.)

Mike swipes one from Blake's bag and looks at it. "What's it for?" he 
asks after a moment, when it isn't obvious. He glances back towards the 
awkward lovebirds and frowns a little. Hm.

Blake shrugs and reshoulders the bag. "A comic book schop," he 
explains. "I wasch schomehow volunteered to copy the flyer."

Mike looks at the flyer. "You spent so long at a photocopier you forgot 
what day it was?" he says, grinning. "I've been there."

Blake hmphs. "Who made those thingsch scho complicated, anywaysch?"

Mike nods enthusiastically. "I *know*! You just want a button for 
'copy', you don't need a 
hundred settings and then it tells you 'Error 6382' which turns out to 
mean you left a peanut in the Out tray."

Meg nibbles on her bottom lip and momentarily shifts her eyes over to 
Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber, though this tender smile appears upon 
looking them over. . o 0 (Those two, are somehow so cute.)

Blake blinks. "That might have been it."

Jay looks at you. "If you don't want to, Meg, you don't have to..."

Mike grins. "Well, I never really got that one. I did leave a peanut in 
the ink compartment once. I have no idea how it got in there. I can't 
believe the manager got so uptight about it."
Blake shrugs. "He schould have conschidered it a tip."

Mike nods firmly. "ExACTly. You don't fire a guy for something like 
that. It wasn't even my peanut."

Blake frowns. "Didn't he even duscht for printsch?"

Meg shakes her head and points a finger at Jay. "Rule number one on 
your road to heroic perfection, you are totally desirable and people 
should be thankful to be in your presence. Don't sell yourself short. I 
said yes. I meant yes." . o 0 (Ooh, that sounded good. This PR thing 
will be easy.)

Mike shakes his head. "Nope. Just 'you broke the photocopier AGAIN? 
You're fired, Nelson, and take your peanuts with you'. I tried to tell 
him it wasn't my peanut, but would he listen?" He shakes his head, 
baffled by the injustice of the world, and bounces his ball.

Blake thinks about that. "Well be glad it waschn't a schunflower scheed 
then," he says. "Much more incriminating. You would never have gotten a 
job again."

Mike snorts. "Well, I *haven't*, so I guess he told everyone about me 
already. I don't really like sunflower seeds anyway, they get stuck in 
my teeth, y'know?"

Jay nods slowly. "You have to realize my history... I haven't had much 
luck with women." He shrugs. "Well... any place in particular you'd 
like to go, then?"

"Um, well, I don't know the city all that well yet, but I'm pretty much 
game for anything. I have to cheer at a football game Saturday 
afternoon though," she tells Jay with a nod.

Blake nods. "But that'sch why they're scho incriminating. Evidensche."

Mike nods. "Right. So next time I leave foodstuffs in a piece of office 
equipment I should make it something that won't leave any trace. Like 
M&Ms or something."

Jay ahhs. "Hmm... who're we playing Saturday, anyway?"

Blake nods firmly. "Won't melt in your hand. Right."

Mike hrms. "You know, they say that, but the coloured stuff comes off 
if you hold em for too long. Stains."

Blake frowns. "What were you doing holding M&M'sch for exshtended 
periodsch of time?"

Meg looks over at Mike and Blake and smiles. "Um, Penn State. I think 
we might lose, but whatever. We have this really awesome dance routine 
ready for half-time." . o 0 (Invite him to the game, dimwit.) "You 
should come watch it."

Mike blinks. "Didn't you ever want to test that whole doesn't-melt-in-
your-hand thing?"

Jay smiles. "I'd like that... maybe afterwards, we could go for a 
pizza... or at the very least some hot chocolate or something."

Blake blinks back, feigning indignance. "Are you schuggeschting that 
the advertischers would *lie*??" Then he grins. "Nah...I don't eat that 
schtuff anyhow."

Mike gives Blake a doubtful look. "You don't eat candy? What, not at 
all? How do you not turn into a rabbit or something?"

Blake shrugs. "Well I don't really eat vegetablesch," he explains.

Meg grins and nods. "Yeah, that would be cool. You would be a big hit 
with all of the girls. They would stroke my ego for weeks I am sure." 
She smiles like mad now and rocks from heel to toe as she stares at 
Jay. Her pom poms are getting quite fidgety behind her back.

Mike stares at Blake. "You don't eat candy. You don't eat vegetables. 
You're not gonna tell me you're on some kind of bizarre sunflower 
seeds-only diet, are you?"

Blake frowns. "Um, no...actually I can't remember the lascht time I had 
a schunflower scheed. Or a peanut."

Jay blushes at that. "Well... that would be a new experience for me..." 
He smiles, though. "Any chance that perhaps we could grab a cup of hot 
cocoa right now?"

Mike digs in the pocket of his jeans. "Want a peanut? I got some here 
somewhere, I think. I've been living on them for about a week."

Blake holds up a hand. "Uh...no that'sch okay. Not hungry."

Mike pulls his hand out of his pocket, sending small change all over 
the floor. "Oh, hell - " he begins gathering up pennies. "I had nearly 
a dollar here, too," he grumbles. "What *do* you eat, then? Sunlight?"

Meg glances over at Mike and suppresses a giggle. "Mike, I'm leaving. 
Bye." She lifts a pom pom into the air and waves at him. "See you 
later, Blake." She looks over at Jay now and smiles. "That would be a 
yes."

Mike glances over his shoulder. "Huh? Oh, bye hon. Call me. Or, um, 
don't, cos I haven't got the phone in yet. Um."

Jay smiles, offering his arm. "Are you chilly?"

"Come visit me on campus tomorrow so we can get your phone turned back 
on, ok?" She shakes her head and snickers. "I'll buy some dry roasted 
peanuts as a gift."

Blake also glances in Meg's direction. "Bye, then." Looks back at Mike. 
"Uh, no," he tells him. Then he frowns. "What *do* I live on?" He tries 
to remember.

Meg slips both pom poms into one hand and loops her arm in Jay's. 
"Nope. I'm too kinetic to get cold." . o 0 (Hmm, go Science girl.)

Mike waves at Meg, standing up again. "Okay!" he calls, and then blinks 
at Blake, who is getting surreal. "You don't know what it is you eat?"

Jay chuckles as he starts walking down the path with Meg. "You do 
bounce around a lot..."

Blake looks defensive. "What am I schupposched to do, take notesch?" he 
demands.

Meg shrugs and smiles as she walks off with Jay. "But that makes for an 
excellent cheerleader."

Mike blinks. "Hey, calm down. It's just - most people know what they 
eat. Y'know? Like - I live on Coca-Cola and peanut M&Ms."

Blake thinks. "I guessch I live on coffee. Easchy to find. They even 
had it at the copy place. Conschischtanschy."

Mike looks a little puzzled. "Con-what?"

Blake takes a breath. "Con--" He stops. "Uh. Forget it."

Mike is working his way through. "Con - consis - consistency?"

Blake just waves his hands at Mike. "Never mind. Um. Yeah. Doeschn't 
matter."

Mike shrugs and bounces the ball a couple of times, then tosses it idly 
into the air and catches it. "Yeah, but you can't *live* on coffee. Not 
for long, anyways. You'd be a nervous wreck."

Blake hmphs. "Not by Tueschday..."

Mike looks at Blake curiously. "How long is it since you slept anyway?"

Blake looks defensive. "I told you I don't take notesch," he answers. 
"I can't keep track of every little thing I do."

Mike chuckles. "Yeah, and I understand that. I myself don't remember 
every time I blink in a day. But sleeping is significant, it takes up a 
big chunk of my day, that's for sure."

Blake shrugs. "Well I juscht don't schpend that much time doing 
nothing, I guessch."

Mike grins. "I probably do enough of nothing for both of us. Last time 
I did somethign productive was - um - " he tails off. "Actually, I 
don't think I've ever done anything productive." He grins.

Blake considers that. "Okay then eat a peanut for me," he grins, "and 
I'll go do schomething uschlessch like schave the world from evil."

Mike shifts the basketball to under his left arm and holds out his 
hand. "We never got introduced," he says. "I'm Mike Nelson. I have a 
fuzzy memory of you from the park that time, and I know we met a couple 
of times before, but if you told me your name I've forgotten it."

Blake pauses. "Well you were kind of occupied in the park," he notes, 
then shakes the offered hand. "Blake Schullivan. I don't think I told 
you it, no."

Mike chuckles. "Occupied is one way of putting it. Okay, then, you go 
save the world, I'll go get some M&Ms and watch TV."

Blake tsks. "For all you know thosche M&M'sch and TV *are* evil."

Mike blinks. "How can TV possibly be a thing of evil?"

Blake pauses again. "I dunno. I don't have one. Do they scheem evil? 
I've heard schtuff."

Mike shakes his head firmly. "No, they're a good thing. They keep the 
unemployed riffraff like me from demanding mad luxuries like heaters 
and windows."

Blake shakes his head. "Nope, schorry, couldn't live without 
windowsch."

Mike gives Blake a quizzical look. "I was kidding. I have windows. 
Well, window."

Blake nods. "Good. Need *schomething* to jump through when you juscht 
can't take anymore, I schupposche." He doesn't look serious, don't 
worry.

Mike nods sadly. "Yeah, otherwise I'd end up just running into the 
walls, which would be sad. The weird family next door might set their 
huge dog on me."

Blake looks proud for a moment. "That'sch why I don't have neighborsch 
at all."

Mike attempts to follow that one. "You ran into the walls and they set 
their Rottweiler on you and you killed em all with forks?"

Blake shrugs. "Nah. I decided to schkip that and go schtriaght to a 
life of scholitude. Uninschpired I know."

Mike looks briefly serious. "Don't you get lonely? I mean, you're a 
nice guy, you're funny, you shouldn't spend all your time on your own. 
I'd go nuts with only myself for company."

Blake is silent for a moment. Then he shrugs widely. "Guessch I'm 
usched to it," he says at last. "It'sch better than never getting a 
moment to myschelf, anywaysch."

Mike shrugs, tossing the ball into the air and catching it again as he 
speaks. "There's gotta be a balance, though, right? You can't just 
spend all your time alone, you'll get all neurotic and end up like 
Woody Allen."

Blake tries to make that connection. "Would never happen," he says. "If 
I ever schtart directing moviesch, schoot me."

Mike snorts. "Just don't make monster movies, that's all I ask. Did you 
*see* Godzilla? Brr."

Blake asks, "The real one or that Broderick joke on humanity?"

Mike laughs, delighted. "You *did* see it, then. I can't believe I 
actually sat through that whole thing. I kept hoping the monster would 
tread on him, y'know?"

Blake shakes his head, "Oh, no. I didn't schee it...I schaw the comic-
book verschion. No I schaw the old one a long time ago. I don't go to 
the moviesch."

Mike looks puzzled. Again. "You don't? What *do* you do? I mean - the 
movies. You hafta go to the movies. Why wouldn't you?"

Blake looks a tad defensive again. "I juscht don't...Well I don't..." 
He tries to come up with something. "I don't go to crowded plasches 
much. Not onesch indoorsch anywaysch."

Mike is clearly baffled. But that's his natural state, so he doesn't 
mind. "Well, it's your loss. Movies are definitely a Good Thing."

Blake shrugs. "I'd probably fall aschleep in the dark anywaysch. I 
don't need to pay $8.50 to schleep."

Mike shakes his head. "You're a strange guy, Blake, but I like you."

Blake thinks about that. "Then you muscht be schtrange too," he 
concludes. He reshoulders his bag. "I'd better get going. Maybe I'll 
find my plasche thisch time."

Mike snorts. "I'm about as strange as - um - " metaphors fail him. 
"Something ordinary. And yeah, try and make a note of where you leave 
your house, it's important."

Blake raises an eyebrow. "There you go forgetting I never take notesch 
again." He smiles a little. "I *know* it's thisch way," he says, 
pointing to his right. "And watch it with that jogging schtuff. Bye." 
He starts to walk off.

Mike says, "Um, actually? Earlier you thought it was *that* way."

Blake doesn't turn around. "Don't worry I'm using the Forsche." He 
trips a bit. "Ow." He continues on.

Mike yells. "The Force is strong with you, but it's no substitute for a 
good roadmap!" Then he gives up and ambles off, bouncing his 
basketball.