<div class="floatleft">(https://www.mediafire.com/convkey/76b7/x5nx8e3wrte3v7y6g.jpg)<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><div align="center"><strong> <span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Circe</span></strong></div></div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;">Oddly, the tablecloth didn’t even need soda water to remove the stain.  More oddly, Chloe starts mentioning inanimate objects, specifically the book, ‘feeling’ ‘pain’.  I quickly review my past desserts, those left here—sure, I made brownies but standard ones, not enhanced.<br/><br/>Chloe invites attention to the pained book.  Riiiiggghhhht.  “In a mo Chloe.  One does not want to hurry labor.”  AND it seems that Mike has been getting in the last word on our repartee.  <em>Better at it?</em>  “I’m practiced at it Mike, not that you’d know, but I suspect you’re a natural.”  What else?  “I’m studying to be a vampire.”  (Not really).  “You’ve heard of the golden lasso?  Well, I’m just getting a lasso—when I’ve practiced that, you’re the first subject—as in . . . lassoed, tied, and spanking!”<br/><br/>This feels like a roll, but unfocused.  Chloe might have something to do with this.  Normally, she intervenes or comments; now she still seems worried about the ‘thing’.  I’ll finish this on my own then: “Spare the rod and spoil the child Mike.  Spoiled, that’s you.  Plus—the game?  If we play, no add-ons like ‘in my butt’ or ‘with your mama’.”      <br/><br/>I place my hand on the book.  “We may need a blood transfusion Nurse Chloe.  The only known donor is Mike.”  (Sweet smile at Mike).  I take my hand away, this being sort of fun, maybe Chloe will relax too.     <br/><br/>“Orrrr. . . ” I take Mike’s hand and move it to the book (no Mikey, I’m not going to suck on that! (smile)), grab Chloe’s hand, placing it on top of Mike’s and place mine on top of theirs: “Open sesame and open seza-he and open seza-she!”  Remembering my mothers’ lessons I add “please.”   <br/></span>