affame_le_geant_part5_begins fyn gula rachel came up to me yesterday and said, "there are definately a couple of questions that need answered before part five begins." she went on to say that the first one by far is the most important because she was really worried about puppertwinkle. "IS HE STILL ALIVE?" he is. before the story continues, i would strongly recommend reading, affame_le_geant_on_off affame_le_geant_body_from_bone it will refresh your memory concerning the recent head-scratching, lump swallowing, tragedy that has occured to the little dog. and you will remember that even though he is reduced to a skeleton he is, in fact, if still passed out from severe exhaustion, very much alive. it is his flesh, presently tucked away in the patagonia shoulderbag of a well-dressed madrill riding a bicycle with snakes for wheels, that is lifeless. and so part five begins..... the lonely winter wind howled with relative abandon, roaring through the gnarled, bare branches of the thousands of bare pin oaks, tulip poplars, silver maples, and sweet gums, knocking down accumulated snow. it had the voice of an bemoaned troll, perhaps one who recently suffered with the death of its child whose throat had been slit by proina, and now it mourns the days it once knew happiness. it was this haunting sound the madrill heard as she peddled purposefully along the firm-packed bianca strada, the twin serpents holding firm. with christmas day now passed, she no longer whistled holiday tunes. actually she was a very nervous individual, especially now that she had in her possession the one treasure that not only proina desired and had paid for with a large amount of kemulyan money, but several other factions who opposed boffden and the revolution that will not be televised. and so, music was a way she dealt with her continuous anxiety. her lips pursed in a replication attempt of "hot honey rag" from rob marshall's new musical/film sensation, "chicago." however, the wind frustrated her. she could only put her head down, murmur to herself about always having to work, and pressed forward. with her initial mission accomplished, contacting proina was next on her to-do list. realizing a barista was situated a couple of kilometers ahead, she thought to herself it would be a suitable place to stop and make her necessary communique.... "i have another question," rachel said, holding mex, our christmas siamese kitten. "what is it?" "what will happen to puppertwinkle's flesh?" you'll see. 021230 what's it to you? who go blather from