To Those Who Will See, The World

Agent Jones Switched To The Big Screen And A Grainy Video Of Momo Sitting At His Enormous Desk, A Swivel-hipped Elvis Clock Ticking Behind His Bewigged Head. 'death To The Capitalist Pigs! Death To Your Cinnamon Bun-smelling Malls! Death To Your Power Walking And Automatic Car Windows And I'm With Stupid T-shirts! The Republic Of Chacha Will Never Bend To Your Side-of-fries -drive -through-please-oh-would-you-like-ketchup-with-that Corruption! Momo B. Chacha Defies You And All You Stand For, And One Day, You Will Crumble Into The Sea And We Will Pick Up The Pieces And Make Them Into Sand Art.

Hot Off The Presses, Today’s Headlines: The Love Of Your Life Does Not Approve Of My Wanton Flapper Ways,” Evie Said In A Voice Of Affected Mystery. “really, Mabesie. You Might Want To Reconsider—he Is A Bit Of A Killjoy.

Yes, Go On. Leave. You're Always Coming And Going. The Rest Of Us Are Stuck Here. Do You Think He'd Still Love You If He Knew Who You Are? He Doesn't Really Care—only When It Suits Him.

How Can My Ankles And Arms Be Obscene?

She Bestowed The Blessing Of A Wild Girl's Lips.