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Mind Over Matter

Adventurous? Try this.

Ever had a distress call? John Brenner has. Here's the Distress Call, a drink of his own design. Pour three fingers of Maker's Mark bourbon into a bar glass, then add one drop of Meet Your Maker Retribution Sauce. Mix well and drop in a twist of lime. Lay one-quarter finger of grain alcohol on top. Light it and let it burn for three seconds. Blow it out, and slam it back. It's good, so be sure to include your friends. 

 

 

With a shriek of tortured metal another bullet slashed by my face, tumbling end for end by the sound. Ricochet.

 

Tucking myself further back into the three-by-three steel cubbyhole at the end of the hall, not for the first time in the last ten minutes I questioned my inability to say no to pie. No doubt about it, if I got out of this alive I was going to buy a Stairmaster. Maybe two, one for each leg. In circumstances like these, inches could mean death.

 

Resisting an urge to panic, I quickly pushed it away as I glanced down and checked my weapons again. One was still hopelessly jammed, the other one empty. So much for that. I know it's weird, but rounds just don't seem to last as long as they used to; I lay the blame for that squarely at the feet of Rosie O'Donnell. It would have been sweet for a bullet fairy, Disney-like and with a soft blue neon glow, to come flitting in right about then to bring me some fresh ammunition, but truth to tell what I really needed was something with a little more authority. Like maybe a rocket launcher.

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