<strong>Vern ~ with the Raghead and the Door Guard</strong><br/><br/>Vern kept right on walking. Moussad at his side wearing a puzzled look as they approached Throckbottle.<br/><br/>It was like watching a Tsunami. The waters pulled back and back and back. And in the distance the wave rose higher and higher until parts of the sky were blocked out. The fluorescents overhead were blocked out. A deep shadow covered Throckbottle. He looked up and panted into the brown paper bag.<br/><br/>His heart raced in his chest as the mountain pointed towards him.<br/><br/>"You the one making these bitches dance?" Vern growled.<br/><br/>Throckbottle nodded vigorously.<br/><br/>Vern snapped his pointing arm toward the two new comers, Evie on the floor with Madison.  "Them two bitches. You're suppose to make 'em learn a dance or some shit."<br/><br/>"Me an Raghead'll be back in two hours to pick ours up. Nobody else touches our cunts got that?"<br/><br/>The bag to the face acted line a balloon, collapsing and expanding as if there was a five year old on the opening who had just discovered the unique properties of air pressure on a rubber container. Throckbottle was still nodding vigorously as the two stepped on the door as they exited the room.  The bag worked like a lung until the heavy boot steps echoed far far away.<br/><br/>Throckbottle moaned in relief and spoke into the bag, “Oh god.”<br/>