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Challenge Five-Mad Libs
"jellybean...jellybean...ja...jam...jessy jackson...juno... " sniff 
"excuse me?"  claire walked into her office, for once relaxed, since she, her 
coffee, danish and donut had made is safely to the office.  (aka, no trevor)
unfortunately, they (the food products, humans not included) ran into peril 
when her eyebrows shot up.  not that the two events were directly related, 
(remember, correlation does not imply causation), but they both stemmed, 
pretty much simulatiously, from the sight and sound of trevor, poring over 
her medical dictionary and muttering about...  well, we heard from him a 
moment ago, and trust me, it only got worse.
"jar jar binks."  with a disgusted snapping of the book covers, trevor jumped 
up and pointed at the offending stack of bound papers.  "i can't find 
"um, right.  have you tried the candy store?"
instead of answering in the verbal sense, he held up a rather large bag of 
said candies.   "been there done that.  now i'm trying to look them up."
"whatever for?"  she tried to install herself at what was, afterall, her 
desk, but had a problem since that's the space trevor happened to be 
presently occupying.
"because, i need to know which flavors the pink flamingos are allergic to."
if claire had still been holding her breakfast, it would have hit the floor 
about .44 of a second later.  as it was, they cringed on the desktop, sighing 
in relief.
"pink... flamingos?"  the only response she could manage.
"ya know, the ones that sit out in peoples lawns...  you need to feed them 
ritual jellybeans so the kamikaze dumplings don't become the 23 plague of the 
"have you.. by any chance been drinking?"
he had been staring forlornly into the bag, but her cautiously probing 
question caused him to snort into said bag.
"no no no.  had a bad experience with that remember?  not again...   for a 
while at least.  maybe when i get a visit from...  but i digress.  have you 
ever read the vodoo for dummies book?"
"hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy?"
"anyway, they mention in that how an ordinary cactus can be substitued for a 
cloth doll - that's actually how those funny shaped cacti came about - they 
breed them to look human.  anyway, some of those cacti decided to become 
buddist.  which was fine for a while, until they started getting pissed off 
with the world, and started sending plagues."
more staring
"there were a few listed in the bible, but then there are other ones, like 
dirty politicians and nunneries.  right now they're threatening the kamikaze 
dumplins which"  shudders "will be the worst yet, by far."
....stare, stare, stare  (by this point if claire had been located precisely 
254.872 miles 23.9 degrees north of west 13 minutes earlier, she would have 
won the annual staring contest in mockabing minnesota)  finally, a small 
voice came out with "and what does this have to do with jellybeans?"
"nothing really.  i just need to feed the pink flamingos - only the ones they 
like though, since the other's will make them sneeze, then it won't work- and 
then the hyena's will come, and they'll be able to stop any deadly killer 
plague of kamikaze dumplings."
By Taby!
Claire was in her office, working on a report on her computer 
and silently cursing out her spell checker's inadequate 
dictionary, when the door burst open.  This was quickly 
followed by Trevor striding up to her desk, unannounced and 
uninvited, as usual, carrying a small red gift bag and an open 
bag of jellybeans which he was munching from. 
"Can you believe it?" he said as soon as his mouth was empty 
enough to speak.  "Cupid's Day isn't even over yet and already 
the stores are dragging out the Easter candy.  Talk about 
getting the bum's rush.  Want some?"  He held the bag out to 
"No, thanks.  Um, Trevor, did you just come here to deliver a 
diatribe on modern marketing practices or --" 
"Actually I came here to give you your Cupid's Day present," 
he said, reaching into the gift bag. 
"Well, Trevor, that's very nice of you, but as your therapist, I 
don't think I can accept --" She saw what he had put on her 
desk  "-- a cactus?" 
"Hey, you did say you always felt guilty about getting cut 
flowers because they died so soon.  And I thought maybe 
a plant would brighten up this room a little --"  He looked 
around doubtfully.   "I think I should have gotten more than 
one."  Looking back down at the plant, he continued, "See, 
I even found a little plastic pink flamingo to put next to it 
so it'll look like a real garden." 
"Well, um, thank you, Trevor.  Now, if you don't mind, I 
really need to get back to my work..."  She had gotten up from 
her desk and had almost successfully guided Trevor out the 
door when he stopped and said, "Wait - I have some good 
news I wanted to tell you about." 
"You've decided to get out of the matchmaking business and 
become a kamikaze?" 
A momentary hurt look flickered across his face, but, seeming 
to recover quickly, he continued, "Remember that couple I was 
telling you about before?  The one that was having trouble 
working out their religious differences because he practices 
Buddhism and she's into voodoo?  Well, last night, I managed 
to get them both to come to the bar, and after getting them into 
an open and receptive state of mind --" 
"You mean you got them drunk?" 
"--they decided that what they had in common was more important 
than what they didn't, so they're going to give it one more try.  And 
right now, the only thing they're arguing about is whether to get 
white or avocado appliances for the apartment they're moving into 
"That's a lovely story, Trevor, but right now..." 
"So what are you doing for the Big Day?  Has Frank got something 
special planned for his little dumpling?" 
"If he has, I wouldn't tell you." 
With that remark, the realization that he really Wasn't Wanted there 
seemed to hit him.  "Okay...I guess I'd better be going then... See 
you later, Claire." 
After he had gone, she went back to her desk and tried to get back 
to where she had left off.  She noticed that Trevor had left the gift bag 
on the desk.  Thinking it was a nice looking bag and maybe she could 
use it for something, she picked it up and was about to fold it up when 
she realized there was still something left inside.  Looking inside, she 
found a white envelope with her name on, and a card inside with a 
photograph of a hyena.  As she opened the card to see if there was any 
message inside, she saw a small piece of cardboard with something 
attached to it sliding out.  Picking it up, she found herself staring at a 
enameled heart pin with a gold plated arrow across the center.   Curious, 
she looked at the card again and read, in Trevor's large scrawled printing: 
Here's something to help you get all the love you deserve. 
Happy Cupid's Day. 
P.S.   Apology accepted. 
By Janet
Trevor pushed the door of the esoteric shop. He looked
around a bit desoriented. The atmosphere was gloomy.
Dead people's heads were throning on bookshelves, a
hyena fur draped around a purple mannequin, the eyes
of the mannequin beeing replaced by dying cactus
falling from their orbit. Trevor shivered and made a
move to get out of there.
"Is there anything I can do for you?"
The voice was soft and voluptuous. Trevor looked up to
see the owner of the store. A middle-aged lady wearing
a red tank top with little pink flamingos. She smiled
to him and suddenly said:
"Love potion, maybe? It's Valentine's Day... I bet you
want to impress your lady?"
"Looks like you forgot to take off the Halloween
decorations!" Trevor said looking around.
The lady's smile widdened. 
"I know what you need!" she said.
As the words were uttered, she disappeared in the back
of the store leaving Trevor alone.
What was he doing there anyway? Love potions? He
didn't need that. He came because he thought that
maybe he could find something about Olympus in there.
A spell, anything that would enable him to go back as
fast as possible. But that wasn't the only reason.
Curiosity was one of the reason as well. Could
esoterism give him his power back?
The lady came back with a little box in her hand.
"Those are what we call 'Venus Candies'", the lady
said while opening the lid of the box.
"Jellybeans?" Trevor said looking at the reddish
appearence of the candies.
"No" the woman smiled again. "Those are love dumpling.
You munch on them and you eat love. Let's say it's a
concentrate love candy. I don't show those to normal
customers, but with you it's different. You know that
Trevor goggled at her.
"Who are you?
"I'm Zetha."
She motionned him to sit down next to her on a coffin.
"That lady you love, why don't you just tell her how
you feel? You don't need anything in here. You know
that as much as I do."
"There are no ladies." Trevor protested lightly.
Something about that woman was appeasing and somehow
he couldn't fight around her. He couldn't even banter
"Is that so?" The lady said taking a large dictionary
beside her. "It says in here that Cupid falls for
Psyche. Don't tell me you haven't found her yet?"
Trevor looked at the picture in the dictionary. Cupid
and Psyche. The same picture Claire had showed him in
their first encounters. He had denied it at the time.
He couldn't have been sent to Earth for her. THEY
couldn't have set him up making him believe that he
was punished when all he had to do was to find her!
Trevor closed his eyes. He thought about Chicago. How
all seemed to have been organised for him to meet
Claire. His arrest, his thearapy sessions with her.
"There's a plan so far so good"... so had said Zeus.
Was *that* the plan? To meet Claire and to realize
that he loved her?
"So?" Zetha said slowly.
Trevor opened his eyes to face a voodoo doll that was
looking at him with wide black eyes on the shelf in
front of him. 
"Am I here for her?" Trevor said looking at Zetha.
The owner of the shop showed him the candy box.
"Those are for you. They were here all along. I just
didn't know it would take you so much time to figure
it out."
"What should I do with them?" Trevor asked.
"Kamikaze used to kill themselves for the good of
their nation. What are you ready to give up for love?"
she answered enigmatically.
She stood up and took a Buddah statue in her hand. "In
Buddism, it is said that in order to achieve peace you
have to let go."
She put the Buddah statue in Trevor's hand.
"How much are you ready to let go for her?"
Saying so she disappeared in the back of the store for
good, leaving Trevor holding the Buddah statue and the
candie box. Near him, on the coffin, the dictionary
was still opened and Trevor remained there,
transfixed, looking at the picture for hours.
By Catherine
by steve Oyervidez
Despite her best efforts, Trevor caught up to Claire on the sidewalk.
"Hey, looking keen, jellybean..." he said with a smile.
Claire exhaled, not amused. And not slowing her pace down. "And here I 
thought the fifties were over, Trevor."
He looked at her meaningfully. "Would you prefer I called you an insatiable 
sex dumpling in the buffet of love?"
"You can call me anything you want, Trevor. If you do it from very far away. 
How about Antarctica?"
"Spoil sport. Use could use a good 'buffet'ing every once and awhile. It's 
just like you to take a perfectly good food as sex metaphor and ruin it. 
Claire, you could even make a hyena stop laughing."
"What's that supposed to mean? Not that I care, but... What's that supposed 
to mean?"
"It means that if you look in the dictionary under the term 'tight ass' it 
says SEE CLAIRE ALLEN..." Trevor leaned back to appreciate the view as he 
walked. "Although in your case that may be a compliment..."
"Trevor, for once can't you pretend to have a life where you don't even know 
"You know what your problem is, Claire?"
"Delusional outpatients following me around everywhere when I'm already 
late?" she offered.
Trevor ignored it. "You have no imagination."
"Funny... Since I can imagine a day where you 'don't' accost me on my way to 
Trevor suddenly looked at her head, as if noticing something for the first 
time. She didn't know how to react. Then without warning he reached out to 
the side of her face, but she pulled back.
"Trevor, what are you doing?"
Looking serious, he reached out again and he touched her ear... pulling his 
hand back with a pink jellybean between his fingers.
"Sorry. You had something stuck in there, Claire."
"Ha ha," Claire said without enthusiasm. "That's an old trick, Trevor. I 
might have fallen for it once... when I was five or so..."
He wasn't listening, reaching up again and then... appearing to pull out 
another pink jellybean. His fingers grazed her cheek for one tantalizing 
moment as his hand withdrew.
"Look at that, Claire... Same color. Same flavor. Over and over again..."
Trevor popped it into his mouth without hesitation and began to chew. Claire 
smiled, still walking. But then Trevor reached out and pulled out another 
one, gently grazing her cheek, and then another. And another again, all of 
them pink, popping each into his mouth if he had an insatiable appetite for 
them, not looking like he was going to stop anytime soon.
Claire couldn't help but smile, almost laughing as they continued down the 
sidewalk and Trevor kept pulling jellybeans from her ear. Looking around, 
Claire realized how ridiculous they must look walking down the crowded 
sidewalk. Her skin was tingling where Trevor grazed her cheek each time. But 
he didn't stop, more and more jellybeans going into his mouth, over a dozen 
know in that short span of time. Suddenly, Claire made a vaguely disgusted 
Still chewing, Trevor looked at her. "What's wrong?"
"That's a little... disgusting, Trevor."
"You do realize these aren't actually coming from your ear..."
"No, I mean the jellybeans. How can you eat that many? I hate those things."
"Figures. How can you hate jellybeans? What's not to love? They're sweet, 
they're gooey, they're pointless..."
"Sounds familiar. Reminds me of a certain patient with nothing better to do 
today apparently..."
"Hey, believe me, I'll accept that description. Except for that 'not to 
love' part. I've always done my best to change that. But no matter how hard 
I try,  you just won't buy a ticket on the Trevor train."
"It's probably a short ride..."
"Not the way I conduct. Someday I'll show you my engine and let you stoke 
the boilers. That ride is transcontinental, non stop express, and believe 
me. It gets you there. Sometimes twice."
"As totally unappealing as that sounds, I still don't like jellybeans, 
"Your loss..." Trevor casually reached up and pulled another jellybean from 
her ear like she was a dispenser. Pink like all the others, he popped it 
into his mouth.
Claire blinked, suddenly realizing Trevor was wearing a short sleeved shirt. 
His arms were bare, and his hands were never out of view. How was he doing 
that? She pushed the thought aside.
"Trevor, maybe I don't like jellybeans because They ACTUALLY ARE pointless. 
Like... I don't know, hoping to see you act normal for a day."
"Trust me, it's no act..."
She continued. "Like lawyers praying for absolution. Like tacky plastic pink 
flamingos on someone's perfectly good front lawn."
"I get it. Like turning a cactus into a chia pet..."
"Jellybeans just don't serve any functional or beneficial purpose in my 
life, Trevor."
"SO what? Where are all those plastic pink flamingos supposed to live?"
"Claire, sometimes it's the pointless things that make life worth living."
He reached out and stopped her on the sidewalk, looking at her as people 
continued to stream past. Without a word he held out his arm, showing her 
his empty palm. Then he clenched it into a fist, turning it over. Opening 
his fingers slowly... a heavy, continuous stream of pink jellybeans rained 
down out of his hand, seemingly more than he could possibly be holding as 
they scattered everywhere on the sidewalk at their feet.
Claire watched in wonder, not believing her eyes, almost laughing in 
"Trevor, how did-"
He smiled at her. "Just the voodoo I do so well. Always said we good were a 
dexterous lot. You'd be surprised. I wish you'd let me show you all the 
amazing thins I can do with my hands..."
Still astonished, Claire reached out and grabbed his wrist, turning it over, 
still wondering where all the jellybeans had come from.
Trevor guided her gaze down. "Look at all that on the floor, Claire. This... 
is your brain. This is your brain on the sidewalk. This is your brain as a 
pink jellybean. Any questions? Notice anything? They're all the same! As 
pretty as that brain of yours is, there's no variety!"
"Variety? Trevor, this may come as a bit of a shock to you, considering 
your... 'condition', but our brains a re all pretty much alike. Brain, 
blood, bone, all the same. Until you start believing your a Roman Love God, 
then you're pretty much on your own..."
"I'm not talking about the parts, Claire. I'm talking about the perception. 
You always do the same thing! Day after day. The same route, the same 
routine, the same rut! Can you imagine if everything in the world were 
exactly the same everyday? If everything was always pink jellybeans? How 
boring would that be?" Thinking about it, Trevor liked his lips. "Although 
you might not provide the best analogy, since you do have this really 
stimulating flavor that raises... several intriguing possibilities."
"Trying to find life truisms in a pile of cheap candy, Trevor? You haven't 
been eating any funny brownies Champ has lying around, have you?"
Claire my point is as monochrome as those jellybeans. Like the bland leading 
the bland! Most people accidentally wander into the Dull Zone, but you 
kamikaze into it! If someone who believed in Buddhism were reincarnated into 
your life, they'd pray to get out of the loop..."
"Well, lucky for them, this life is already occupied."
"Yeah, but not by much."
Shaking her head, she began to walk again. "Trevor, what do you want from 
He gave her a long look.
She smiled. "Besides that..."
Reaching up, he pulled another pink jellybean from her ear. Instead of 
eating it, he offered it to her. "You're living your life but it's like you 
haven't even tried it yet. Do something different for once. Instead of 
walking the road you've most traveled. At least try one, Claire..."
With a sigh, Claire finally took it from him. reluctantly she popped it into 
her mouth, pausing after she chewed. Suddenly her face lifted, really 
starting to enjoy it.
Trevor smiled. "See! Apollo was wrong. Mortals can be taught!"
"Trevor... this is... this is really good..."
"Only if you try a new one everyday..."
She was still chewing. "What flavor is this?"
Trevor started to walk away, grinning back at her as he popped another pink 
jellybean into his mouth. "Pink flamingo, actually..."
Claire smiled as he walked away, Feeling better than she had been, she went 
on her way to work, already making plans to stop by the candy sore along the 


Madlibs Challenge #1
by Tanis

"Hi there, sugarplum!" called Trevor Hale as his
psychiatrist entered 
Taggerty's, the bar he worked at. 
"Trevor, do not call me that!" Dr. Claire Allen
reserved her most 
withering glare for her most harrowing patient. He
shrugged as he wiped his 
hands on his white bar apron. 
"Okay sweetcakes," he deadpanned.
"Trevor," Claire warned, seating herself at the bar. 
"You'd prefer dumpling then? It shall be done." He
crossed his arms and 
nodded his head, humming the theme music for I Dream
of Jeannie.
"I wish you'd stop!" Claire sounded annoyed as she dug
through her 
large bag. Trevor smirked. Annoying Claire was what he
was best at. Well, 
he was best at other things, but his only current
interest was annoying 
"Jellybean?" He offered. Claire slammed a stack of
books down on the 
bar, causing him to jump. 
"I think that's enough for today," Claire's words were
clipped and 
short and Trevor recognized it as her 'I mean
business!' tone.
"Gotcha. But do you want a jellybean?" Asked Trevor
innocently, holding 
out a bowl of pastel coloured candies. 
"Oh. Um, no thanks," Claire made a face at the
proffered treats. "Why 
do you have jellybeans in a bar, anyway?" 
"Linda's big into Easter. We're putting these on all
the tables during 
lunch rush. Myself, I never understood all that
Catholic mumbo-jumbo. I 
mean, starving yourself and giving something up? Do
you have any idea 
how many people give up sex during Lent?"  Trevor
prattered on as he 
made a tray of drinks for a rowdy table of business
men who were treating 
themselves to a liquid lunch of Kamikazes and
Margaritas. "Now the 
pre-Lent feasting and partying. That's more my style,"
he said, looking 
around for a waitress. 
"Really, I never would have guessed," Claire rolled
her eyes. 
"Yup. I know you're a woman of the millenium Claire,
but I've seen 
things done at Mardi Gras that would cause you to
titter like a school 
"I have never tittered," Claire informed him. Trevor
raised one eyebrow 
"Maybe you should titter," he suggested.
"You think?" She asked sarcastically. 
"Oh yes. There's nothing like a good titter. I've
tittered on occasion. 
And let me tell you, nobody titters like a schoolgirl
titters," he said 
as he carried the tray of drinks out from behind the
bar. "I bet you 
were a naughty schoolgirl. Looking all trashy in knee
socks and pleated 
skirts. Enough to make any decent Catholic switch to
Buddhism. But then, 
I'm neither decent, nor Catholic," he quipped. 

Before Claire could form an appropriate comeback,
Trevor was weaving 
his way through the crowded bar. Claire watched his
retreating form, as 
it moved gracefully between tables and artfully dodged
drunken diners. 
His broad back was covered by a dark blue silk shirt
that rippled when 
he moved. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbows,
and the back of the 
shirt was coming untucked from black jeans that Trevor
was doing a 
wonderful job of filling out, front and back. 

He caught her staring and let his lips curl up into
the seductive, 
sultry smile that she saw when he really got into
flirting with her. He 
turned back to the table of business men who were
chortling like 
overweight, red-faced hyenas at the exchange. Claire
blushed and turned her 
attention to her stack of books. She really had to get
her next column 
done. She opened the latest volume of Psychiatry Today
and tried to focus, 
but only seconds later, she was interrupted. 

"So, did you get a good, long look?" Trevor whispered
into her ear. His 
breath tickled her cheek in a manner that wasn't
altogether unpleasant. 
"What are you talking about?" Claire asked innocently.

"Come off it Claire," Trevor laughed, still standing
dangerously close 
to her. "We both know you were scoping out my real
estate. Was the 
property to your liking? It's in a great
neighborhood," he crooned in her 

Claire sat perfectly straight, not sure if she was
liking the effect 
that Trevor's close proximity was having on her. As he
leaned in closer, 
she could smell his aroma, a clean, warm, scent of
sandlewood soap. She 
felt his chest bump her back, but dared not turn, when
his strong arms 
reached around her to place the tray on the bar. She
couldn't see him, 
but he was still talking to her in a low, gravely
voice that was 
driving her insane.
"I don't blame you for wanting to finger the
merchandise," his words 
were meant to be a joke, but Claire couldn't help but
think that Trevor 
was trying to sell her on something. "Handsome
architecture, chisled 
landscaping, large... rooms," he breathed. 

With every word, the gap between them closed, until he
was standing so 
close, she could feel his heartbeat quicken. His lips
almost, just 
barely, grazed her ear. But it felt to Claire as if he
had firmly planted a 
passionate kiss on her skin. Claire knew she was
blushing furiously, 
and she started when Trevor's arm once again came into
view to pick the 
book in front of her up. "Perhaps the magical offer is
causing you to 
lose interest in reading books right side up," he
chuckled as he turned 
her reading material so the words again made sense.
That was all she 
needed to be jolted out of her reverie. Trevor moved
behind the bar once 
more to smile slyly at Claire and pour more drinks as
the colour drained 
from her cheeks. 
"See? Mardi Gras, New Orleans, voodoo. Magic is my
"I don't know what you're talking about, Trevor."
Claire shook her 
head, fighting to keep from touching her ear where
Trevor had briefly 
placed his lips. 
"That's the problem. You never let your guard down.
Just now, when you 
did, you enjoyed yourself," said Trevor distractedly
as he measured 
grenadine,creme de cacao and blue curaco into a shot
glass, expertly 
layering the coloured liquids so they created a red,
white and blue effect. 
Claire shook her head, indicating that they would
never agree, so just 
drop it. But Trevor wouldn't let it go. 
"You refuse Jelly Beans, you abhor those plastic pink
flamingos people 
put on their lawns, and worst of all, you refuse to
believe in magic! 
What would the Lovin' Spoonful say about that? Believe
in magic! It's 
happenin', it's groovy, it makes you feel happy like
an old time movie!" 
"Trevor, do you have a point, or is this yet another
rage against the 
machine?" Claire asked, frustrated. Trevor threw up
his hands. 
"Does it bother you that you just referred to your
boring life as a 
machine? Gods, Claire! What do you do for fun? Read
the dictionary?" He 
pushed the drink toward her. When she hesitated,
Trevor sighed in 
exasperation. "Live a little. It's called an American
Flag. Have a drink at 
lunch! Buy a cactus and name it Fred! Jump in a
puddle! Get in the game! 
How many times do I have to tell you that?" She
crossed her arms and 
glared at him. 
"You'll have to talk until you're blue in the face
before I take advice 
from you! You're my patient. Who thinks he's Cupid.
You ahven't made 
any progress in over three years! Why on earth would I
take advice from 
you, when you haven't taken any of mine?" she asked
"Okay. Say I live a boring... oops, normal, life. Wake
up, eat some 
cornflakes, watch the news, run on a treadmill, hustle
through the maze 
and get my little crumb of cheeze. What would be the
point? Why shouldn't 
I live? Why shouldn't I have fun? What's so great
about your life?" It 
was his turn to look haughty with crossed arms. He was
silent. Claire 
didn't speak either. "Well? Answer the question
Claire!" He yelled, 
startling her. "Sorry, got a little Brat-packy-
Breakfast-Clubby this 
morning. Well, I have to get back to work. You think
about that. Really 
think," he pointed at her and turned to fix more
drinks and pour more 
alcohol for thirsty patrons, leaving the shot in front
of her. 

She blinked at his tirade, wondering what had brought
it on and how 
long he had been harbouring these feelings. She was
about to pull out a 
pen and make some notes to analyze later when Trevor's
final query hit 
her. "What's so great about your life?" he had asked.
She paused, 
thinking about it, as he had advised. 

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she began to mouth the
words to the song 
Trevor had quoted earlier. 

"Do you believe in magic, in a young girl's heart. How
the music can 
free her whenever it starts, and it's magic...." 

Claire eyed the drink in front of her warily. A smile
spread across her 
face. She watched Trevor flirt with two businesswomen
and shake drinks 
like Tom Cruise in Cocktail.
"I'll tell you 'bout the magic, and it'll free your
soul But it's like 
tryin' to tell a stranger 'bout-a rock 'n' roll..." 

Claire's heart felt lighter as she picked up the shot
glass with 
delicate fingers and held it up to the light. The
coloured layers of liquor 
dazzled her and before she knew what she was doing,
she tilted her head 
back and tasted the sweetness at the back of her

"If you believe in magic, don't bother to choose. If
it's jug-band 
music or rhythm and blues, just go and listen, it'll
start with a smile 
that won't wipe off your face, no matter how hard you

Claire couldn't seem to stop herself from grinning as
she licked her 
lips, savouring the American Flag shooter. She felt
better. Like a weight 
had been lifted off her shoulders. She reached up and
took out the 
beret that held her hairstyle in place, shaking her
chin length hair free. 
It felt amazing! She stood up and smoothed her skirt,
pushing the empty 
shot glass across her books and papers. 

"Your feet start tapping and you can't seem to find
how you got there, 
it'll just blow your mind....If you believe in

Claire plunged her hand into the bowl of jellybeans
and whirled around, 
popping a pink jellybean into her mouth. She started
walking toward the 
door, swaying as if she were dancing to music only she
could hear. 

"If you believe in magic come along with me, we'll
dance until morning, 
'til there's just you and me..." 

Suddenly, Trevor heard the bell over the door jingle.
He turned, 
expecting to see a steady trickle of customers heading
back to the office. He 
was distracted, however, when he saw an empty shot
glass sitting on a 
stack of open books and papers in Claire's spot. The
bar was pretty much 
empty. He looked toward the door, which was hanging
open, letting 
bright sunlight filter into the dark bar. 

Trevor smiled as he caught sight of Claire in her
imaculate suit and 
perfect heels, skipping down the street, hair blowing
free in the breeze. 
She only paused for a moment to consider a large
puddle from last 
night's rain shower before she jumped into the muddy
water, laughing and 
splashing in the sun. Trevor shook his head and smiled
as he turned back 
to his duties at the now empty bar, crooning a
familiar tune as he 
polished the wooden surface to a shine. 

"Maybe, if the music is right, I'll meet you tomorrow,
sort of late at 
night. We'll go out dancin', baby, then you'll see how
the magic's in 
the music and the music's in me!"