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My Hunch With Jill


Ernest Buckley

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...share my herpes with.
:love:
:love:
:love:
It was true love, but then she told me that...

 

she was formerly a man but still in love with women and that she wasn`t really into me but I sort of looked like her before "the change"; hence her curiosity. "Speaking of change", she said to me, "do you think you can spare me some. I need to make my way to Italy." Wow, my heart sank, I wasn`t really into her anymore but I was in a really weird sense that I would only admit to myself. Whats a boy to do? I mean girl. I`m confused. "I`ll go with you to Italy" came out of my mouth and I don`t know why but I had this sudden urge to...

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she was formerly a man but still in love with women and that she wasn`t really into me but I sort of looked like her before "the change"; hence her curiosity. "Speaking of change", she said to me, "do you think you can spare me some. I need to make my way to Italy." Wow, my heart sank, I wasn`t really into her anymore but I was in a really weird sense that I would only admit to myself. Whats a boy to do? I mean girl. I`m confused. "I`ll go with you to Italy" came out of my mouth and I don`t know why but I had this sudden urge to...

 

 

go to Tony Soprano and seek his learned council on affairs de 'amour.

His advice was sage, yet provocatively simple....'

 

'You must go to Little Italy, and buy a pink Cannoli the size of a Blistex.,

 

As we spoke a car full of Hooded thugs came around the corner with 9mm pistoles blazing...I had to act quickly so I....

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... run back to the car. We jumped in and saw the thugs all now dead in the street. "Nice job with that carrot", I said. Jill said thanks and asked why Jackie was with me. I told her the whopper story and she said "I know that mime ... he's our brother Dixon Hand Spiccoli !. I said .. you're Jill Spiccoli ?? She said "Yes". And you've now met my sister Jackie and I fear you'll now fall in love with her instead . boo-hooo-hooo-hoo. she sobbed. Jackie sat there munching on fries and didn't say a word.

 

I said ... "no Jill, you've got it all wrong. I knew when I saw you at the dance floor across the room, you were for me. Besides, the guys told me your name was Jill ... and that rhymes with pills. And popping pills is my favorite pastime, so how could I resist? By the way, are you also related to Jeff Spicolli ? "yes, she mumbled". He's my other brother. He's Mime Number 9. I couldn't believe it. That ... that .. means .....

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"Those mob bastards!" I screamed in anger and no small measure of disgust. "They've launched a series of coordinated attacks on street performers, and I'm afraid for the entire Spiccoli clan."

"Don't they know," asked Jill quizzically, "that a mime is a terrible thing to waste?" My insides were twisted in knots, and I could feel another outbreak coming on. Outside, I projected an air of calm sophistication as I said...

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"Those mob bastards!" I screamed in anger and no small measure of disgust. "They've launched a series of coordinated attacks on street performers, and I'm afraid for the entire Spiccoli clan."

"Don't they know," asked Jill quizzically, "that a mime is a terrible thing to waste?" My insides were twisted in knots, and I could feel another outbreak coming on. Outside, I projected an air of calm sophistication as I said...

 

but innardly...(is that a word John?;)) 'oh {censored}!, if the Mime is questioned by PO-PO and might be considered a suspect...and they have to 'Mirandize' his striped shirted, 'pancake' make-upped ass...

Will they tell him 'he has the right to remain silent'???????...

.Oh {censored}....

 

and as it turns out Jackie is pissed at Beck for not answering her Text messages and is thinking of retaliating by contacting Tim and saying....

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...that the bed at the hotel was not turned down properly and the temperature was exactly the wrong one. However, as Tim is well known for being on the psychotic side and very prone to outbursts of New Kids on the Block melodies, Jackie decided to instead stop for coffee and head up to Jill's to pee on her...

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.. switch Jill's always-present oxygen bottle with helium and then float her over to Tustin to park her in the old WW II blimp hanger while no one was looking. Since Jackie and Jill were twins with only a 12 year age difference, no one would ever know. The only problem was gonna be ...

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...replacing her real birth certificate with the forgery that showed she was born in Kenya. With everyone in Halloween costumes (and knowing Jill's tendencies to dress in blackface for these events), Jackie knew she could easily call her friend in the Border Patrol and have Jill deported "back" to Kenya. There would be no competition for my affections, and then she'd be free to let the Mob run roughshod over the mimes and jugglers.

But what Jackie didn't know was...

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place his nuts in a vise that he kept by the phone for just such occasions, turning the handle ever tighter until he finally broke the prime directive of mime existance to never speak aloud and screamed out in agony as his nuts finally cracked, "Jenny, those bastards are coming for you! They're going to ...

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"TAKE MY BLISTEX!!!! BASTARDS!"

 

CHAPTER 2 (The Trail of BLISTEX)

 

ROME, ITALY- Finding the Blistex was important, crucial actually but, there was still some time for pizza. It occurred to me while eating my 3rd greasy slice that oil was dripping right on my button down shirt. Damn it. It also occurred to me that we were in Italy, and that without even trying, we just got here without much effort and such are things when two fall in love. Even knowing Jills past, I found myself intoxicated with her. I looked up from the grease on my shirt only to find him, uh, I mean her staring at me with those puppy eyes. I thought I was staring at myself until I saw Jill smiling. She had some pepper flakes stuck between her...

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teeth. I pointed them out to her and she rinsed them away with a clean swipe of her tongue. She gave me a smoky gaze, leaned forward and slapped me. Hard. Then, nibbling on my ear, she dared me to like it. I did.

 

She leaned back in her chair and, glancing behind me, she stiffened.

"Mr. Big!", she whispered. I caught a reflection in her wine-glass of a large man in a cheap linen suit, with a face like boiled knockwurst and a smile that would curdle new milk. He glanced at our table in passing and I caught the whiff of cheap perfume.

"Quite the dandy", I said, and Jill only smiled. I fumbled for my tobacco and she took it out of my hands.

"Let me", she said in a low voice that dripped honey. She rolled an expert smoke, tightening the paper along her glistening thigh. Then, placing it delicately between my lips, she punched me right in the nose. Jill didn't like guys who smoked. She knew what she liked in a man and would settle for nothing less. Men either understood that from the start or moved on. There had been a lot of men that had moved on in her life. She wasn't sure about me yet.

 

I brushed off the crumbs of tobacco and she kissed me. She kissed me hard. She kissed me like only a woman who knows exactly how she wants to be kissed could kiss. I grabbed her ears and hung on for the ride. She broke off the kiss, stared into my eyes and bit my lip, just so. She settled back in her chair and said...

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..."When in Rome..." Before she could complete the sentence, a gang of renegade mimes invaded our little pizza joint and surrounded our table.

"What do you want?! Are you members of the Spiccoli clan?" My questions went unanswered, as expected. The largest of the group (and the one with dirty knees), the Head Mime, motioned that we should follow him, as the other mimes nodded and pressed against the imaginary wall between us and them. A Pink Floyd song crept into my subconscious at that moment, but I put it out of my mind as Jill said...

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..."When in Rome..." Before she could complete the sentence, a gang of renegade mimes invaded our little pizza joint and surrounded our table.

"What do you want?! Are you members of the Spiccoli clan?" My questions went unanswered, as expected. The largest of the group (and the one with dirty knees), the Head Mime, motioned that we should follow him, as the other mimes nodded and pressed against the imaginary wall between us and them. A Pink Floyd song crept into my subconscious at that moment, but I put it out of my mind as Jill said...

 

 

nothing. As I studied her face, it became obvious that what I had mistaken as powdered sugar, errant from a wayward cannoli, was actually grease paint. Now her face was completely covered in it. I can't believe that I never noticed the connection between the striped shirt and the beret either. What was this evil bitches plan, and why was she pulling on that imaginary...

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