THIS is where you need to be, all you boot lickin, butt-kissin, mush-slingin sycophant commenters who are afraid to admit your addiction to the wonderful world of L created by these prolific authors. You go there and read now, for you know what is in store come January. Go, go read and be happy, enjoy it while you can for soon there will be no babies, no bus rides, no air mattresses, no role reversals , no mornings in bed as it rains outside, no car crashes, no reconciliation, no new characters to cling to. So go now.

FAITHFUL DOG, SERVANT OF MINE, ELVIS . . . GO I SAY AND BRING ME THE HEADS OF SCHECHTER AND JEWEL AND WHATSHERNAME MARINA. BRING THEM TO ME ON A SILVER PLATTER TO SERVE UP TO THE DIEHARD FAN FIC FANS. BRING THEM CAKE AND LET THEM EAT BETTE FOR SOON THERE WILL BE NO JOY IN MUDVILLE . . . .

( I absolutely love this story . . .nice to see you let Bette have a ***** buddy.CHANGING PLACES) . . . . (BT this is absolutely wonderful, you keep us hanging on the edge, teasing is so good, anticipation is fun . . . CAPTIVATING) (Bette is very smooth. I have to look for English hollies next time I am in a nursery . . JUST BECAUSE) . . . . (I believe everyone wants Teddy. Wait until Tina gets a good look at the way she treats Bette . . AFTER THE FALL) . . . .(This has got to be the most *****, sensual and loving piece I have ever read . . You are simply amazing . . SATIN SHEETS) . . . . (Your words are so powerful and moving . . I have been moved to tears . . .INTROSPECTION) . . . . (How beautiful to be in love . . The fine details in your story are just incredible . . . OUT OF PLACE) . . . (OMG! I am going camping. Amazing things happen in the woods . . . BnT TRUE LOVE) . . . . (Oh la merde . . You toooo drole girl . . . THE WORLD ACCORDING TO ALICEnBETTE) . . . (Infuckingcredible chapter. I absolutely adore your Tina and Bette. I wonder who is enjoying your hobby more . . You are us? . . . IF IT WAS MEANT TO BE) . . . .(You are without a doubt my favorite author. You should put all of your stories in a book . . . THE CHASE) . . . (Skip, you do intimacy like a pro. They are getting there. . . . 6 MONTHS) . . .

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Webster defines PARANOIA as a mental illness characterized by delusions of grandeur and persecution –as unfounded fear and suspicion. And in the case of an addict deprived of her drug that fear and suspicion run deep and relentlessly through her system, those delusions are endless and overwhelming.

My guilt over the suspected involvement of me, K and Elvis in the deaths of our two elderly neighbors was perpetual and all- consuming . In an effort to ease my pain and fear I did something I had never done before – while catching up on the FAN FIC stories which control my life, I wandered into the Discussion Board area to see what people were thinking. Some of those thoughts were about to push me over the edge.

There was talk of Bette and Tina not having make up ***** the entire second season. There was talk of Candace as a recurring character. Talk of both Tina and Bette with multiple ***** partners and even thoughts of the second season being the FINAL season. As I read the comments I felt as if I were being smothered and needed air FAST. I abruptly pushed my chair away from the computer and headed to the kitchen – these desperate times called for desperate measures. My mind was having difficulty processing all the information I had read and my fear of being nabbed by the cops as an accessory after the fact was driving me to drink.

Alcohol consumption was not a usual habit of mine as I am a pitifully stupid drunk (although many people dont recognize any difference in my behavior). But I figured it being 4:00 am, K in bed and me not driving, a few shots of JC (Jose Cuervo) might help my mind regain its steel-trap status.

Food was essential as well so I popped a bagel into the toaster, grabbed the pitcher of lemonade and found the fifth of JC. Unbeknownst to me I was being watched, my every move scrutinized, analyzed, dissected and followed by that criminal canine of mine, Elvis.

I drank the liquor right out of the bottle and chased it with a tall glass of lemonade. I began talking to myself, out loud, discussing the comments I had just read about next season, asking and answering my own questions. As I began to spread some cream cheese on the now warm bagel, the face of Jenny Schechter appeared on my food, fading in and out like the Wicked Witch of West in the Wizard of Oz in that crystal ball.

I dropped the knife, took another swallow of JC without the lemonade chaser, shook my head HARD, rubbed my eyes and looked again at the bagel on the counter. Seeing nothing I picked it up and was about to take a bite when it happened again!

There she was fading in and out of the cream cheese when I heard her say ILL GET YOU AND YOUR KILLER DOG TOO!

MOTHER *****, I was talking pretty loudly by now, well actually almost screaming.

I dropped the bagel as if it were on fire and shook my hand to get any residual Jen off my person.. As it hit the floor, I again shouted, MOTHER ***** and was just about to squash that piece of carbo-laden victual when I heard Elvis growl.

The sound of his throaty snarl startled me and I slipped and fell butt first on the floor. Both the dog and I then scrambled for the bagel with me claiming victory and holding the spoils in the air away from his slobbering jaws.

Fine, flea bag, you can have the bagel after you answer a few questions. I ask, you answer, I give you a bite, got it?

He sat down and faced me and weakly barked once – K had taught him to bark once for YES and twice for NO – big mistake.

I knew he had to be taunted and almost tortured with the bagel before he would fess up to any wrong doing so I reached in the bottom drawer of miscellaneous items we stored in the kitchen and found a flashlight. I would use the same direct, persuasive Gestapo -like interrogation technique I used on K when I got her to dish on her ex. No one can suppress the truth under the intense scrutiny of the Beach Master.

I flashed the light directly into his eyes and he growled as he put up his paw to protect his peepers. I didnt want to blind him so I held the light above his head and began the relentless series of questions.

Is your name Elvis? I always like to begin with an obviously easy question to let the suspect know I mean business. He barked once and I gave him a bite of bagel.

I knew there was no room for error with this mongrel. I was not going to pussyfoot around with him and give him an opportunity to relax and get the upper hand so I went for the jugular right from the start.

Were you in widow Jones yard the morning she died? One bark, one bite of bagel.

Did you kill her? He hesitated slightly before responding then barked twice. No bagel.

I dont believe you. And I am asking you again. DID YOU KILL HER?

Again he hesitated and again he barked twice. No bagel.

LIAR . What happened next was unexpected as he attacked me, jumping on my stomach and pinning my shoulders to the kitchen floor with his front paws. He looked down at me, our gazes locked, neither of us wanting to be the first to blink. He growled ever so slowly and deliberately and once again barked twice.

Something in his eyes, his demeanor made me think twice about believing him. Perhaps he was telling the truth. Maybe he was just covering for K.

Fine, ok, I believe you. Now get off me you knucklehead. He let me up and sat back down staring at the bagel. I gave him a bite and continued the interrogation as I took a few more hits of Jose.

Have you been reading the L discussion board? One bark, one bite. Im freaking out dude, theres some scary talk out there. One bark, one bite.

Do you think the show is in its final season.? Two decisive barks. Big bite of bagel.

Me neither, I cant believe it would end after only two years. One bark, one bite.

Do you think Bette will show ***** this year? Three quick barks – I think that means I hope so. Big bite as we both laughed and rolled on the floor. I dropped the flashlight as we continued giggling and the kitchen went dark.

But when K came in, turned on the overhead lights, we both shut up, sat up and tried to look busy sweeping crumbs up from the floor.

What are you two doing? she asks as if we were really going to tell. She had a suspicious aurora about her and why she was up so early got me thinking she was definitely up to something.

What kind of question is that? What are you implying? I asked trying to keep my annoyance in check.

She walked over to the fridge and spotted the nearly empty bottle of JC on the floor and a mess on the counter around the toaster. She opened the door looking for something to drink, ignoring me and my response to her question.

And what the ***** are you doing up so early? I shot back at her. Not looking at me as she answered she said, I always get up early when its your day off. Its you who usually sleeps til noon. What are you doing up and on the floor?

She closed the fridge door, putting a carton of OJ on the counter and turned to me and the dog. She held out her hand and told me to get up. She pulled me up and began brushing the bagel crumbs off my shorts.

Hey, no touching Sponge Bob Square Pants pants I instructed her not wanting her to try her seductive ways with me when she was the number two suspect on my list.( I was wearing my favorite boxers and tank – bright yellow Sponge Bob) K has always been a touchy-feely kinda gal – always running her hand though my hair, rubbing my arm as she walks by, patting my head or my thigh when she talks to me. Ever since she opened up to me about her ex her touch seems to be so much more electric, so much more intense and sincere. I had to keep my guard up against her subtle , loving charm.

Not only did she touch my butt, she grabbed my hands and pinned them behind my back and tried to kiss me all the while smelling the alcohol. I turned my head and said I bet you want the goodies, bet you thought about it, got you all hot and bothered, keep on looking, they stay in the jar.

She laughed and let me go and again asked what we were doing .I knew I had to confront her and get to the bottom of this. If my suspicions were correct, someone was going to jail and that would not be a good thing.

I cant take it any more K, I started to come undone, slurring my words as I spoke too quickly. I go outside the neighbors whisper, I take Elvis for a walk and they look and point. They know K, the whole neighborhood knows that we killed Mr. Johnson with our open-door ***** and widow Jones with our deviant dog. They know we watch L and read the fan fic stories. I cant take it any more. You gotta confess your involvement and I gotta give up the Bette or well have to move.

Bv this time I was kneeling on the floor grabbing her leg, Elvis holding on to her other one. She thought I was a desperate housewife but actually I thought I was going to barf and needed to steady myself.

Alright you two, stop with the drama. How about I make us some breakfast and then you help me today in the shop.

I was frozen to her leg with that comment. K NEVER asks me to help – especially after she tried to crucify me – not figuratively – no – quite literally – the only other time I helped her out while she was making furniture she accidentally shot a nail through my hand pinning me to her work bench like Jesus on the cross. She blamed me of course, but who in their right mind keeps a loaded gun, be it a nail gun, out in the open,.

Her asking me to help out was totally out of character and made me all the more suspicious that something was amiss. Help you? I asked as I got off my knees.
Why so you can try to kill me too?

I think I hit a nerve because what happened next was not pleasant. All right, that is it, you mental midget. We are going to get a few things straight and we are going to do it NOW. (~~I AM SSSOOOO GOING TO GET IT — IN SOOOO MUCH TROUBLE~~)

She grabbed me by the waistband of my shorts and pulled me outside. Since I wasnt wearing any underwear, the cool morning breeze whipping through my down-there created a sensation as intense as the anticipation of discipline from K. She plopped down on the oversized lounge chair on our front porch and pulled me down with her- me sitting with my back against her chest. She wrapped her arms and legs around me so I couldnt move if I had to. There was a full moon out and its reflection off the Gulf waters was absolutely beautiful – we really did live in paradise.

I am only going to tell you this once so shut your trap and listen up. I started to say something and she slapped me upside my head. So I did the zip the lip thing and threw away the key and she slapped me again. We both sat there very still not wanting to be the first one to laugh – but of course I couldnt handle it and cracked up – so did she.

Stop it now and listen, she tried to talk through the laughter. When is your next appointment with the head doctor.? Tomorrow. I said. Well, if you dont listen up and stop acting the fool Im going to take you in today to see her.

I shut up immediately and listened as well as I could in my condition as K explained to me that we didnt kill Mr. Johnson. Seems when he returned from the senior citizen special at the local strip club that afternoon he was so horny that he popped a Viagra and gave the Widow Jones a call. During the explicit phone ***** banter and simultaneous masturbation, the old man went into cardiac arrest. Our open-door ***** session didnt kill him.

And as for the Widow Jones, seems there was a family of raccoons eating her garbage and ELVIS went over to chase them away from her yard. In the process several disoriented baby raccoons bumped into Mrs. Jones and their fur had the same affect on her as dog fur. Reality is Elvis tried to save her, not kill her.

I felt so relieved and stupid at the same time. K got up to go make us breakfast and I grabbed her hand as she was trying to leave. I told her I much I loved her, how much I needed her, thanked her for helping me and saving me. She patted my head and I started to cry as she walked away, not seeing the tears.

Oh, by the way, youre GIRLS both posted stories on the site. And that one you like so much that you are thinking about creating a three-way thing with them? Well call her Lazarus cause she has risen from the dead and posted one too. Just thought youd like to know.

I laid down on the lounge chair and cried some more -cried because SHE, THE OTHER ONE and #3 all posted this week – cried because we werent going to jail, cried because we didnt have to move, cried because I was so lucky, so loved, so in love, cried because I was tired of being so scared for L.

And as I cried, doing my Holly Hunter Broadcast news imitation, I didnt hear it. I didnt hear the quiet SNAP like a small twig being broken in half. I didnt hear the gentle THUD as it hit the grass – – death was instantaneous, but death nonetheless — the majestic egret lay motionless on our front lawn, the victim of an errant throw by the morning paper delivery boy. The paper had a special section about the Halloween activities in the area thus making it larger that usual for a Tuesday and the boys career as a pitcher in the major leagues was definitely suspect.



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