Pool_2

>> Sound Off <<

The Table was a bit underpopulated, but it was still early. Gerry Yount was chuckling as he claimed a seat next to Mary Richards. Loosening a bundle of stapled paper packets from under his arm, expectantly, and noting the names written on each one against the current attendance, "Ostennn, Yyyyeount t's me, Rrrich-chards, Popperrrr.." . "Very good, Gerry.", Larry Osten teased, "You're finally getting it. Except I'm not Mary, she is." "Oh swell! Mock me, shrink! Mock me. Ruin my self esteem forever! .. Hey, what the hell are they calling today's special?" Seth muttered poop, as Denise offered, peanuts in slime. "Yount!" Belachnik shouted across the table, creating a wedge of silence in the jabber. An expectant question sought affirmation. Did Macaluso really punch out Fischbein? Peter's big twisted eager smile not only communicated hope that the rumor was true but that, somehow, this Fischbein character was permanently geometrically altered. An inevitable buzz ensued, which Yount didn't want to stifle with a less comical first hand account. "Bel - lach - nik, ahh here, this one's yours. And Denise, take this one." Yount wasn't offering up anything just yet, as his distribution was not yet satisfied. Each and every person present had a particular juicy version of the operating room carnage, having in common something like a bleeding Fischbein on the floor and a raving roaring King Kong Macaluso jumping up and down on his chest. Dr. Farr, a bit out of character, chimed in that he hoped Fischbein got it good. "He's a terrible person.