Even though he'd lived alone for several years now, he still hadn't mastered the trick of doing decent cooking for himself. It wasn't that he was a ba... cook, because he was a good one though results were usually on the plain and wholesome side, but it was too damn much trouble to do it for just himself. Thus, dinners usually consisted of nuking some hot dogs or a TV dinner, or stopping off at the Chicago Inn. In recent months, if Vicky happened to show up before he got around to eating, she. What could it be? Hmmm?"She opened the drawer, reached in, and came out with -- oh no! -- aglittery silver tiara. It was metal but covered with some sort of cheapfake gemstones that caught and reflected the light. Connie forced it onabove his eyes. The sparkly headpiece was much too tight. It squeezedthe sides of his skull uncomfortably, pressed against his forehead likesome medieval punishment device. She chuckled and patted him on top ofhis rubber-covered head. He peered at her through. More

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