With and Without Class Read Online Free Page B

beamed upon Mason Foot kindly.
    The hamster phone burst up out of the soup, grasping desperately at its rim and gasping for breath. “Impossible wish! Impossible wish! Warranty voided! All insurance claims rescinded!” it bonked frantically just before it was pulled back beneath the soup by whatever was slurping below.
    Just then the skylights above the restaurant flooded with blinding yellow light and a broad structure with pink ridges descended above the sky which was above the skylights. The broad, ridged pink structure rose and fell against the sky making the whole restaurant and the ground rumble and shake. “HEY THERE LITTLE BUDDIES! WHAT’S NEW TODAY?” an incomprehensible voice boomed from above.
    Mason Foot flattened into a flat pancake shape with his hands flapping out near the edges of the disk and his stubby useless feet below just allowing him to wobble and worble his disk toward the exit door as everyone else was doing except the salamanders who clung together tightly. “YEAP! YEAP! YEAP!” Mason Foot bonked up to the broad pink structure in the sky as he warbled with the rest toward the door. “YEAP! YEAP! YEAP!” they all bonked upward toward the sky.
    The incomprehensible voice boomed, “THE DUST MICROPHONES KEEP SAYING THEY’RE ‘YEAPING’ AT ME? WHY DO THEY ALWAYS DO THAT?”
    Â 
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Zombie Clown Western
    T here were seven of them left—eyes bloodshot, worn thin. They waited for the sun to spill over the emptied saloon of the dust blown town. Montgomery and Tallboy had pulled a bunch together—mostly drifters—shiftless types. None of the bona fide men could be convinced to stay behind.
    â€œIt’s daybreak that brings ‘em,” Montgomery said from his usurped position behind the bar. He slapped his Schofield down and held a locket to the lamplight, admiring a grainy photo. “Not sure why it’s each year on this singular day. Faces painted all over— stone-dead flesh . Not a body knows where they come from. Not a body knows how they get painted gleam-like in that morning sun: Whites. Reds. Yellas. All colored. Them teeth—”
    Tallboy’s glass clinked and rolled over the floor. “I ain’t afeared a no clown!” He stared off.
    Montgomery slapped out a whisky bottle. “Take another, Tallboy. Just to steady that hand—get these dealings behind us.”
    â€œYou heard it?” Tallboy stammered. “I ain’t afeared.”
    He patted Tallboy’s trembling hand. “I heard.”
    Franklin got up and braced his Spencer rifle behind his broad shoulders to stretch and look out to the stirring doors. “Been in plenty scrapes. Figure it don’t come to much who takes offense to who. All I need to know is: how much me and my boys stand to collect?”
    â€œThere’s a payment coming,” Montgomery said.
    â€œI says: how much, old man? We ain’t staying up all night—spinning yarns—talking ghost legends a marauding painted-face ghouls for our betterment. Me and mine, we came up north outta Kansas City and Cheyenne. We’s known men. We been all over these parts. We been to Big Whiskey, Horse Hoof Whiskey… Ahh…? Lemme see: Whiskey Whiskey Whiskey. We know how things work ‘round here in these upper-middle territories. We know there’s fools running loose in these towns. Fabricating stretchers. Wasting a feller’s time. We ain’t got patience for treachery.”
    â€œFifty dollars cash!” Montgomery said. “I told it before. That’s my word.”
    â€œA body?” Soup Spoon asked from the corner of the room.
    â€œA body,” Montgomery nodded agreement.
    Footsteps creaked over the boardwalk outside. Tallboy stopped drinking. “It’s just—just near daybreak, I