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The Date:

"Did it hurt?" I asked Sandra when I first met her in the window booth at the Chuck E. Cheese's on 92nd. She'd agreed to the location in part because, no matter how the date went, it would at least make for a nice outing for her many, many stupid, stupid children, and in part because I'd offered to "make it rain in that bitch."

Right off the bat, I could see she looked nothing like her picture. She was a bit on the chubby side, and looked like somebody had rode Daryl Hannah hard, put her away wet and then hit her with a taser. The ass of her pants insisted that their contents were "Juicy," and I had no cause to doubt the veracity of that statement. I suspected she may have just pasted a stock photo model into a fake online dating profile. What kind of sociopath does that?

"Did what hurt?" she asked, without glancing up from her keypad. I stole a peek down at the screen. It was all rapidly cascading text, like hacking into the Matrix, but instead of code it was just the words "LOL" over and over again, repeating to infinity.

Looking back, I don't actually recall there being a recipient.

"When you fell from Heaven," I continued, with suavity.

At that, she finally tore her eyes from the pseudo-binary of endless LOLOL-ing, and flashed me a timid smile ... which broke the second I finished my sentence: "Surely, the G-forces from a fall like that would've shattered your femurs, at the least; it might explain why you walk like you do. It's like you've got rickets

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hemorrhoids, like John Wayne with anal fissures, like you're trying to straddle a cact-"

She got up to leave, and I panicked a little.

"MONEY!" I shouted, whipping open my wallet.

She paused at the door and turned hesitantly back toward me.

"You want a provider, right? Check this shit out," I said proudly, thumbing through the thick wad of bills.

Her eyes went wide and a saucy little string of drool chased its way across her jowl (like, literally, though -- it was tinged with some kind of sauce). But when she got a closer look, she too scoffed, and turned to leave me.

"Those are Chuck E. Dollars! You can spend those on ANYTHING!" I cried. "Anything in the case! They got whistles and tiny combs and pewter skull rings and I think I saw some Gak in there!"

But it was too late. She was gone, and with her went a piece of my heart, plus I think she took my sunglasses too.