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Ouch.

To: team-thicko@autox.team.net
Subject: Ouch.
From: Mark J Bradakis <mjb@autox.team.net>
Date: Tue, 17 Jul 2001 20:00:07 -0600 (MDT)
Jake was dying. His wife, Becky, was maintaining a candlelight vigil by
his side. She held his fragile hand, tears running down her face.  Her praying
roused him from his slumber. He looked up and his pale lips began to move
slightly.

 "My darling Becky," he whispered.
 "Hush, my love," she said. "Rest. Shhh, don't talk." He
 was insistent. "Becky," he said in his tired voice
 "I ... I have something I must confess to you."
 "There's nothing to confess," replied the weeping Becky.
 "Everything's all right, go to sleep."
 "No, no. I must die in peace, Becky. I ... I slept with
 your sister, your best friend, her best friend, and your mother!"
 "I know" Becky whispered softly. "That's why I poisoned you."


[In truth this is really just a test of a quick hack regarding WST's email.
 You go out of town for a long weekend, trying to sneak in a bit of relaxation
 and things just go to hell.  mjb.]

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