Tragic Rabbit
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This short offering, dessert on a plate, is from the author of Fifteen, T. Scott Faulkner, and is entitled American Cupcake. A beautifully written work, artfully arranged, it will disturb you, arouse you, confuse you. What is perversity when it's at home, who does it look like in the mirror? This erotically charged tale will entice you, but you'll be sorry, you'll wish you'd never wanted a taste of...
AMERICAN CUPCAKE
by T. Scott Faulkner
From American Cupcake :
You're thinking to yourself that this is your lucky day. You've wanted a boy just like me for the longest time, someone you know won't go screaming to the authorities. Your smile tells me all I need to know for the moment: you know it's terribly wrong, but you need me. You've pegged me as sweet, innocent, curious, the perfect candidate for your delicate tutorial. It's like I've walked whole cloth out of some boylove website, my freckled face toasted by long afternoons in the sun, my corn silk hair studiously uncombed. My eyes are aquamarines under glass. You want to tell me I've walked out of a Norman Rockwell painting, but you sigh because you know I've never heard of the dude, and the allusion would be lost, and then you wouldn't be cool at all.
You're mistaken, of course. Utterly and completely...I wasn't lost. I certainly didn't need a ride ? my Audi is parked four rows over. But you were lost, Mr. Smith, and I knew just how to find you. I always know where to find you.
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Above in the first entry, there is a word which is unfamiliar to me, and I cannot locate a meaning for it. "...oblique manner that might manage to be distrating, but..." DISTRATING As far as I can find out, it is some kind of variation on a meaning similar to rescinding or retracting, but I cannot see how it applies in this sentence.
Trab, I mistyped, the word is 'distracting'. Don't tempt folks, there is a reason for your fate in A Funny Thing.
Mother as Goddess is not my invention, though it was my experience.
No one is required to read anything at all here at AD. Including this post.
TR
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A man and a woman are riding next to each other in first class. The man sneezes, pulls out his penis and wipes the tip off. The woman can't believe what she just saw and decides she is hallucinating.
A few minutes pass. The man sneezes again. He pulls out his penis and wipes the tip off. The woman is about to go nuts. She can't believe that such a rude person exists.
A few more minutes pass. The man sneezes yet again. He takes his penis out and wipes the tip off.
The woman has finally had enough. She turns to the man and says, "Three times you've sneezed, and three times you've removed your penis from your pants to wipe it off! What the hell kind of degenerate are you?"
The man replies, "I am sorry to have disturbed you, ma'am. I have a very rare condition such that when I sneeze, I have an orgasm." The woman, now feeling badly, says, "Oh, I'm sorry. What are you taking for it?"
The man looks at her and says, "Pepper."
*
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I wish I had a working camera, my digital died last year and I've not replaced it.
Sigh.
TR
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I want to mention, for those who aren't aware of it, that I have previously spoofed my own Drama Club and Josh's The Least of These. I believe both are available at AD, the former title is Drama Club: The Farewell Tour and the latter is The Worst Of These. Both shorter than A Funny Thing is intended and have more specific targets.
In Farewell Tour, I make fun not only of my own beloved Drama Club but my own, that is TR's, writing talents, personality, intelligence and even personal hygiene, as well as seriously mocking (read:thrashing without mercy) all the characters DC readers hold dear. Farewell is like A Funny Thing, Angel is the main character in a smartass 'real life' version of himself and he comments ceaselessly on TR, the other real-life versions of DC kids, the decor, TR again, Nifty-style stories, TR's hack writing so-called talents...well,you get the idea. I don't make TR out to be anything wonderful in A Funny Thing either, btw.
The Worst of These is much milder and of a different type, I spoofed TLOT by writing in Josh's own style and stealing his exact, and very beautiful, scenes, line by line. So TWOT is a sort of Evil mirror image of that first chapter of TLOT, and purports to show the true relationship between Davey and Mickey, my favorite online romantic duo. Josh was thrilled, he laughed till he was sick, then complained that I'd stolen his best sequel title.
So, if anyone has the idea that I just have it in for AD, or for anyone in particular, say, poor wee Brit Josiah or whomever, that is simply not the case. I only spoof what I love. If you get heavy treatment, it's because TR, or the Dude, love you a lot. If you get just a mention in A Funny Thing , we still love you but maybe you just aren't joke material. (you wish) No, seriously, and the disclaimer attached to The Worst of These states this pretty well:
Dear Reader: Just so that there is no confusion on the subject, I want to say that The Least of These is my absolute favorite teen romance. I love it very much and love the characters, especially Davey. The spoof represents that affection and is not intended to demean the beauty of the original in any fashion. Making jokes is a great way to show your love but it may also explain why I'm single.
To wit, I tease only because I love ya.
Much love to all of you,
Tragic Rabbit
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Can we just use this thread? If anyone has comments, I'd be interested. Feels weird talking more directly about my own life, though I guess I've gotten more used to it with poetry. Still, the stories that are, in parts, about me are a lot more disguised.
TR
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Looking forward to reading more of this story. It's amazing what one doesn't know about their fellow members.
You're just interested in the fellows' members. And much on that subject, too, will be revealed in future chapters of the noble Adventures contained within A Funny Thing...
Attn denizens of AD: Avoid a worse fate and send in your actual photos and stats, lest TR resort to lies and USPS Wanted pix. Wibby's kindergarten photo (top of part two) is so cute, it just goes to show, don't it? And what is that big stick he's clutching so tightly?
I do appreciate everyone being a good sport, most especially Josiah whose virtue and honor are so thoroughly thrashed in each chapter. He's a sweet guy and I like him very much. I like Gabe a whole lot, too, but he doesn't show up until Angel reaches the Poetry Forum. Actually, I'm far more likely to spend time spoofing something I like than something/someone I dislike (eg. my spoof of The Least of These). I don't know whether I'm on any Icarian hitlists, but I've really, really wanted to spoof Scrolls since I first read it. The Dude always said I should, but liked the site spoof idea even better. And thus it was, El Jefe's wish is my command.
Kisses...
TR
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I have spend quality time whacking off the boss.
A new fantasy there Trab???? :)
No, probably just his, ah, daily grind. What price success? (Besides, how else can he pay for his PS3?) :-({|=
Kisses...
TR
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We are memorable characters on this forum thanks to our characteristic quirks/flaws
And TR is ever so grateful. [see: A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forums, parts one and two, for more on this idea.]
Kisses...
TR :hiding:
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I like TR's jokes.
:evil3: :evil4:
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http://www.awesomedude.com/drawn_from_life..._in_gardens.htm
The second story written for our Drawn From Life section is this coming out story from Tragic Rabbit, Gravity in Gardens. He mixes theories of gravitation with memories of childhood to explain, to himself if not the reader, how he came to know, beginning at age six, of the differences in his nature. Apples, mothers, fruits, gardens, plantings, harvests, hearts in boxes, a falling down and a rising up, these images tell his tale in an oblique manner that might manage to be distracting, but don't let him get away with it. This is a poetic mood piece set to prose standard and perhaps more from the heart than first glance might indicate. Give Gravity in Gardens a read...and then let us know what you really think.
Listen, and let me tell you...
From Gravity in Gardens:
And the look on Mother?s face, ever when I brought my boxes, those awful offerings, my questions. A hardness behind her eyes, like onyx. My God, she was, in truth, and so I brought to her, asked of her, sacrificed to her, longing for surcease. Tell me, tell me, answer me true. Save me all unknowing. But she was not a god, she was my mother, and she could never understand my boxes, could never know that thing inside, that thing I brought to her, my silent self. My own indifferent goddess, who daily raised up the sun to only slay him. Magna Mater. Green Man running, dying, arrow in his side. Cybele Triumphant.
And to think, I brought my heart in boxes.
I was nine before I realized. Empirical observation. After that, I kept my counsel; small diplomat, I learned to lie.
*
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http://www.awesomedude.com/drawn_from_life/bonds.htm
The inaugural story for the new AD section, Drawn From Life, is this true confession from our own Rustic Monk, BONDS , centering on the search for his birth mother. As he struggles to discover who and what he is, he fights against the many bonds that restrict him-legal, societal and familial. His prose is at its best: clean, clear and a str8 shot to the heart. Gritty, real and unapologetic, BONDS will touch you, will make you think. A perfect offering for Thanksgiving, the traditional time to reunite with family, whether in person or thought. Read BONDS and let us know what you learn.
From BONDS :
You're probably wondering how it feels. You want to know. You want to experience it. So I'm sure you want to ask me more questions. You'll want to know what it was like, if was I excited, was I scared, how my parents reacted. Shut up. I'm writing this so you won't ask me again.
*
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That link was shared with me by one of my staff.
In that case, I'm sure there's a 15th way.
TR
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Oh, my GOD! That was SO funny! That was excellent, thanks for sharing!
TR
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A lady goes to her priest one day and tells him. "Father, I have a problem. I have two female parrots, but they only know how to say one thing."
"What do they say?" the priest inquired.
They say, "Hi, we're hookers! Do you want to have some fun?"
"That's obscene!" the priest exclaimed, Then he thought for a moment. "You know," he said, "I may have a solution to your problem. I have two male talking parrots, which I have taught to pray and read the Bible. Bring your two parrots over to my house, and we'll put them in the cage with Francis and Peter. My parrots can teach your parrots to praise and worship."
"Thank you," the woman responded, "this may very well be the solution."
The next day, she brought her female parrots to the priest's house. As he ushered her in, she saw that his two male parrots were inside their cage holding rosary beads and praying. Impressed, she walked over and placed her parrots in with them.
After a few minutes, the female parrots cried out in unison: "Hi, we're hookers! Do you want to have some fun?"
There was stunned silence. Shocked, one male parrot looked over at the other male parrot and exclaimed: -"Put the beads away, Frank. Our prayers have been answered!"
*
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Somehow, I hadn't thought of the Icarians and their "big... orbs" in quite that way before. Oh, there's so much to learn! (Tutor? Tutor? ... my luck, he'd have a headache.)
Fear not. Part Two reveals much of the Truth, and much of the flesh, of those Winged Ones. And WBMS' above threat of 'class' action will be shown to be baseless, as he, without a doubt, has none. James, a true son of Dixie, will unwittingly (some would say, witlessly) cause a rift between loyal servants of His Dudeness. Josiah faints. Angel stomps his foot. Someone sips a Mai Tai. And the Adventure continues...
Part Two will be posted on Wednesday, a holiday turkey for all you feather-brains, sez El Jefe.
Part Three to follow, more's the pity.
Kissey-poo...
TR
P.S. Just to show that stupidity is, as the story shows, a true TR hallmark, I accidentally removed 90% of Blue's above post. As James might say, "Dayum."
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A man was ordered by his doctor to lose 35 kg as soon as possible due to very serious health risks. As he wondered how in the heck he would ever Do it, he ran across an ad in the newspaper for a GUARANTEED WEIGHT LOSS PROGRAM. Guaranteed. "Yeah right!" he thought to himself. But, desperate, He calls them up and subscribes to the 3-day / 5 kg weight loss program.
The next day there's a knock at his door, and when he answers, there stands before him a voluptuous, athletic, 19-year-old young lady dressed in nothing but Nike running shoes and a sign round her neck. She introduces herself as a representative of the weight loss company. The sign reads, "If you can catch me, you can have me!" Without a second thought, he takes off after her. A few miles later, huffing and puffing, he finally catches her and has his way with her.
After they are through and she leaves, he thinks to himself, "I like the way this company does business!" The same girl shows up for the next two days and the same thing happens.
On the fourth day, he weighs himself and is delighted to find he has lost 5kg as promised. He calls the company and orders their 5-day / 10 kg program. The next day there's a knock at the door and there stands the most stunning, beautiful, sexy woman he has ever seen in his life, wearing nothing but Reebok running shoes and sign around her neck that reads, "If you catch me, you can have me." He's out the door and after her like a shot. This girl is in excellent shape and it takes him a while to catch her, but when he does, it is worth every cramp and wheeze. For the next four days, the same routine happens. Much to this delight, on the fifth day, he weighs himself and found he has lost another 10kg, as promised.
He decides to go for broke and calls the company to order the 7-day/25kg program. "Are you sure?" asks the representative on the phone. "This is our most rigorous program." "Absolutely," he replies, I haven't felt this good in years." The next day there's a knock at the door and when he opens it he finds a muscular, handsome guy standing there wearing nothing but pink running shoes and a sign around his neck that reads, "If I catch you, you're mine."
*
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Thanks, it was ever so much fun to poke at Blue, AJ, Sequoyah, Pecman, Codey, TR and so many others in Chapter One. Josiah's public shaming has only just begun. Chapter Two is finished, Chapter Three in the works.
Some of the guilty libeled in chapter two include: WBMS, James Saavik, Jamie and Nic of Icaria, Rustic Monk, Graeme, David McMillan and, as always, El Jefe himself. More scurrilous stuff about Josiah Jacobus-Parker and his beloved Brittania, natch. Quoique leurs chapeaux sont bien laids, Goddam! j'aime les anglais!
Ozzies make pretty easy targets, too.
Chapter Three takes dynamic duo Angel & Josiah up to the dreaded Poetry Pile, upon which sits the Mad Monk.
But where in the world is Carmen Sandiego? Is he in his famous Throne Room?
To find out, tune in to further AwestruckDude.com Adventures.
Kisses...
TR
*
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Why did the Chicken Cross the Road?
GEORGE W. BUSH
We don't really care why the chicken crossed the
road. We just want to know if the chicken is on our
side of the road or not. The chicken is either
with us or it is against us. There is no middle
ground here.
AL GORE
I invented the chicken. I invented the road.
Therefore, the chicken crossing the road
represented the application of these two different
functions of government in a new, reinvented way
designed to bring greater services to the American
people.
BILL CLINTON
I did not cross the road with THAT chicken. What
do you mean by chicken? Could you define chicken,
please?
RALPH NADER
The chicken's habitat on the original side of the road
had been polluted by unchecked industrialist greed.
The chicken did not reach the unspoiled habitat on
the other side of the road because it was crushed by
the wheels of a gas-guzzling SUV
PAT BUCHANAN
To steal a job from a decent, hardworking American.
COLIN POWELL
I have aerial photo's showing the chicken did cross
the road --notice the arrow beside the chicken track.
RUSH LIMBAUGH
I don't know why the chicken crossed the road, but
I'll bet it was getting a government grant to cross
the road, and I'll bet someone out there is already
forming a support group to help chickens with
crossing-the-road syndrome. Can you believe this?
How much more of this can real Americans take?
Chickens crossing the road paid for by their tax
dollars, and when I say tax dollars, I'm talking about
your money, money the government took from you
to build roads for chickens to cross.
MARTHA STEWART
No one called to warn me which way that chicken
was going. I had a standing order at the farmer's
market to sell my eggs when the price dropped to a
certain level. No little bird gave me any insider
information.
JERRY FALWELL
Because the chicken was gay! Isn't it obvious? Can't
you people see the plain truth in front of your face?
The chicken was going to the "other side."
That's what they call it -- the other side. Yes, my
friends, that chicken is gay. And, if you eat that
chicken, you will become gay too. I say we boycott
all chickens until we sort out this abomination that
the liberal media whitewashes with seemingly
harmless phrases like "the other side."
DR. SEUSS
Did the chicken cross the road?
Did he cross it with a toad?
Yes, The chicken crossed the road, but why
it crossed, I've not been told!
ERNEST HEMINGWAY
To die. In the rain. Alone.
MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR.
I envision a world where all chickens will be free to
cross roads without having their motives called into
question.
GRANDPA
In my day, we didn't ask why the chicken crossed
the road. Someone told us that the chicken crossed
the road, and that was good enough for us.
BARBARA WALTERS
Isn't that interesting? In a few moments we will be
listening to the chicken tell, for the first time, the
heartwarming story of how it experienced a serious
case of molting and went on to accomplish its
life-long dream of crossing the road.
JOHN LENNON
Imagine all the chickens crossing roads in peace.
ARISTOTLE
It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.
KARL MARX
It was a historical inevitability.
SADDAM HUSSEIN
This was an unprovoked act of rebellion and we were
quite justified in dropping 50 tons of nerve gas on it.
VOLTAIRE
I may not agree with what the chicken did, but I will
defend to the death its right to do it.
RONALD REAGAN
Well... What chicken?
CAPTAIN KIRK
To boldly go where no chicken has gone before.
FOX MULDER
You saw it cross the road with your own eyes! How
many more chickens have to cross before you believe
it?
SIGMUND FREUD
The fact that you are at all concerned that the
chicken crossed the road reveals your underlying
sexual insecurity.
BILL GATES
I have just released eChicken 2003, which will not
only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important
documents, and balance your checkbook and
Internet Explorer is an inextricable part of eChicken.
ALBERT EINSTEIN
Did the chicken really cross the road or did the road
move beneath the chicken?
JOHNNY COCHRAN
It was because the road was black and the chicken
was white. We must acquit.
THE BIBLE
And God came down from the heavens, and He said
unto the chicken, "Thou shalt cross the road." And
the chicken crossed the road, and there was much
rejoicing.
COLONEL SANDER
I missed one?
*
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Pec, don't you find that the more you talk about a story, the further it recedes into the distance? I haven't been writing as long as you have but I've found that's true for me. I accidentally killed (or at least temporarily banished to my Unfinished File) a number of what seemed to me promising stories because I chatted about them to the Dude or someone before getting more than a few pages down.
Another time I had more down but during a research phase, talked too much, and ended up setting that story aside for months. That one was finally finished but only because his Dudeness nagged at me! I'm glad he did, Lucky Strike Hit Parade 1941 isn't the worst story I've written, in my opinion. But I did nearly off the poor thing by overtalking it. Several others. Why? I'm not sure, I think maybe I get self conscious and then, esp when someone says 'Wow, sounds Awesome', I'm skeered it'll fall short. Performance anxiety.
Right now, I have about six half finished stories, I'm actually having a terrific problem with Fiction Interruptus. Help! Any advice? It's depressing.
Characters I like. I do like Brian and Pete, those stories were some of the first I read at Nifty back before I decided I, too, could try this thing called Fiction. I'm lousy at remembering names, real or fictional, so I can't be sure about the others but probably read most of those, too. I love Elecivil's characters, like some others, Jamie's winged hunks, Mickey and Davey from TLOT, many others I'm too muddle headed to be able to list here from memory.
Published books, lots of characters stay with me, I fell in love with Anne Rice's Louis long ago and never got over it, plus lots of other fictional vampires (now that I think of it, I loved David McMillian's vampire hero very much), almost any character Anne Tyler writes, all very ordinary folk, most Philip K Dick characters, flat out nuts as so many of them are. Tolkien's characters, pretty much the whole entire cast of thousands, but especially the hobbits, Gandalf and an Elf or two. Merry and Pippin, Sam and Frodo.
Lots of other characters probably no one here has heard of but plenty that I love enough to either reread their books or, if I'm lucky, discover further adventures, though that is sometimes disappointing. What about the guy in Invisible Man? Does he even have a name? Great character. Holden in Catcher in the Rye?
So there are loads of characters I have loved, but why do I love them? I think some of what's been said is right, they have to seem individuals, for one thing. If they blend into a bunch of same types the author tosses out, well, they are forgettable to me. That's one thing that's amazing about Tolkien, that he created so MANY people that you just canNOT forget, not to mention a whole entire and believable world.
Harry Turtledove does that in some of his series' (Southern Victory, for example) where huge casts live through decades but they each seem very much themselves and you like (or hate) them. Speaking of research, Turtledove is a madman, he researches like crazy but since his stuff is 'alternative history', he doesn't get the recognition that someone like Colleen McCullough does. She's awesome, don't get me wrong, and her huge casts are also gripping and realisitic (and real people, too!) but hers are seen as somehow more legitimate because it's fiction based on history that did happen, versus Turtledove who writes fiction based on what might have happened. Both drenched in enough realism to choke horse...or a history major.
I think good or great characters also do need to change somehow, though that is harder to pin down in your own stories than in someone else's and might be something more for later analysis than thoughts you have while writing...or reading.
While reading, you should just feel as if things make sense, as they happen, that events and actions are unfolding in a manner that you can believe--whether that's in a world where the Confederate States won the War of Northern Aggression, in outer space like the Foundation and Empire series (mind numbingly good work, btw) or just a suburban housewife whose tired of her marriage a la Anne Tyler's very ordinary scenarios.
So how to WRITE such a character, a memorable and good one, might be awfully different from recognizing one in someone else's work, esp if that work is well regarded, like Tolkien's.
In my own stories, I do often like most, if not all, of the characters. They all seem real to me, real as Tinkerbell and Peter, real as people who breathe and speak to me in daily life. But I wrote them, wouldn't they seem real to me, even if no one else likes them? Else why would I write them?
Angel de la Torres lives in my head, as does Gene Kuo and other Drama Club characters, no less so Christian and Thomas from Some Enchanted Evening, or Johnny from Lucky Strike Hit Parade. Are they good characters? Hell if I know.
My only clues are when someone says they like a story or, and this seems more tellng, when someone says they CARE what so-and-so does, what happens to them. They cried, or laughed, or loved along with a character that *I* wrote...a stunning feeling and something I still haven't gotten over the thrill of, that I can invent people that not only seem real to ME but who manage to live, at least for a moment, in the heart of a reader.
Good character, what's a good character? Different things make a character good but when a reader cares about a character, is rooting for something to happen, something to go right or wrong, you know that you've touched someone and done something, not sure what, right. Probably James' initial post is on target, too, by asking if you remember them LATER, even if not by name.
I'd have to look up a lot of characters to tell you their names, or authors, but their deeds, their scenes, their LIVES live on in my memory almost as if they'd happened to me, at least for the best storytellers, the better, perhaps, characters. But the characters can't stand alone, you also need a gripping story, believable details/scenery and other stuff to allow the reader a framework in which to appreciate a character.
So, to answer the question, I don't know but the above are some of my thoughts on the matter.
Kisses...
TR
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Bottled Bugs
(for Kevin)
There is a sultry summer night that I remember:
Long ago, when we were young,
Starry shadows, insect serenades
Years ago, when we were young.
In your hand, you held the jar
Into which we poured our glitter glow
Fireflies Ecstatic, they lit our way
Amid sleeping trees and secret paths.
Running fleet through fields, we were
Young, so young, so long ago, and yet
That night still shines like bottled bugs
Shelved in the storerooms of my soul.
You, joyous, joyful; me, alight with life,
We thrilled, we thrummed
We glistened, gleamed
As we ran together, laughing, laughing, and
A burnished boyhood Moon smiled down upon us.
*
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Little Johnny is passing his parents' bedroom in the middle of the night, in search of a glass of water.
Hearing a lot of moaning and thumping, he peeks in and catches his folks in The Act. Before dad can even react, Little Johnny exclaims "Oh, boy! Horsie ride! Daddy, can I ride on your back?"
Daddy, relieved that Johnny's not asking more uncomfortable questions, and seeing the opportunity not to break his stride, agrees. Johnny hops on and daddy starts going to town.
Pretty soon mommy starts moaning and gasping.
Johnny cries out "Hang on tight, Daddy! This is the part
where me and the milkman usually get bucked off!"
*
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Q.What do you call a virgin on a water bed?
A: A cherry float.
Q: What's the fluid capacity of Monica Lewinsky's mouth?
A: 1 US leader
Q: What did the sign on the door of the whorehouse say?
A: Beat it - we're closed.
Q: Why do walruses go to Tupperware parties?
A: To find a tight seal.
Q: What's the difference between sin and shame?
A: It is a sin to put it in, but it's a shame to pull it out.
Q: What's the speed limit of sex?
A: 68; at 69 you have to turn around.
Q: Why did Raggedy Ann get thrown out of the toy box?
A: She kept sitting on Pinocchio's face, and moaning, "Lie to me!"
Q: Why is air a lot like sex?
A: Because it's no big deal unless you're not getting any.
Q: What's another name for pickled bread?
A: Dill-dough.
Q: Why are Monica Lewinsky's cheeks so puffy?
A: She's withholding evidence.
Q: What's the difference between light and hard?
A: You can sleep with a light on.
Q: Why is sex like a bridge game?
A: You don't need a partner if you have a good hand.
Q: What's the definition of macho?
A: Jogging home from your own vasectomy.
Q: What do a Christmas tree and a priest have in common?
A: Their balls are just for decoration
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Scan to donate
A CHRISTMAS WISH by Codey
in Readers Rule!
Posted
http://www.awesomedude.com/stories/a_chris...istmas_Wish.htm
Billy was small for his age, looking more like six than nearly ten, but that was the least of his problems. This Christmastime, though, he finds a few solutions. This is Codey's second story and is tender, gently told, sweet and charmingly written. A holiday tale that will make you smile, even if it is through tears. Seven short chapters and an epilogue, almost a novella and very much worth your time. Come, read, meet little Billy and, believe it or not, meet a few Scrooges and other traditional harbingers of Christmas.
From A Christmas Wish :
?Hello?is this Mrs. Munro??
?Yes it is. May I help you??
? I believe so. My name is Paul Thornton of the law firm of Thornton and Thornton. I?m calling in regards to an accident on your property that injured a minor child named Robert Jefferson. We have been asked to represent this minor child in a recovery of damages suit against you and your husband.?
?Against us? We had nothing to do with his accident.?
?I?m afraid the law disagrees, Mrs. Munro. The accident occurred on your property and was caused by your negligence in allowing the ice to build up on your sidewalk.?
?It wasn?t our negligence. The boy had been told earlier to clear the walk. It?s not our fault he didn?t do it and hurt himself after it got worse.?
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