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Subject: Kathy by Morgan (M/F) Chapter 9a
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To:  story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us
From: morg105829@aol.com
Subj: "Kathy" Book II, Chapters 9a (M/F) (896 lines)
January 17, 1998

Thanks for the (mostly) friendly comments.  This is the seventh section of a
book that runs 26 chapters.

Readers are most strongly urged to read Kathy from the beginning.  It will
make no sense otherwise.  I hope to have the balance of the book posted within
a week or so.

Comments (of any kind) will be appreciated.  Contact me at morg105829@aol.com.
Although this is substantially more tame than many postings on A.S.S.M., the
usual disclaimers apply.  Permission is granted to repost, but only on non-
commercial sites.  Please inform me if you do so.

"Kathy"

(c) 1991, 1998 by Morgan.



Book II

Chapter 9

Kathy was sitting in her easy chair reading a history book.  Although several
weeks had passed since her initiation she still couldn't quite categorize the
evening.  It had reddened her bottom, but hadn't hurt her.  She had come to
orgasm in front of the members, but John had assured her that he was the only
one who knew.  She had been repeatedly cheered to the rafters by her new
brothers and they had all had a taste of her honey-covered body.  Every time
one of the brothers saw her, if he felt he was unobserved, he would lick his
lips and murmur, "Yum!"  Yet all in all, the net of it was pleasant.

Then the phone rang.  It was Bill calling: "Kathy, I have more information on
the queen contest.  The group running it called around today and said the date
is being moved up to this weekend.  It was supposed to be in four weeks, but
the word is out that the lesbians are planning a gathering of the sisterhood
from around the whole Northeast to protest.  We hear the group even chartered
a bunch of busses to bring lesies down from Boston.  The organizers are trying
to derail the protest by changing the timing.  Can you handle the change in
date, Kathy?  I've got to get right back to them."

"Of course, Bill.  I wouldn't miss this for the world!  What am I supposed to
bring?"

"There are three parts, you know.  I guess you wear whatever you want to for
the 'brains' part.  You'll need a bathing suit for the beauty part.  You have
a choice of type.  I'm not really sure about the athletics.  I guess you ought
to have a sweat suit, good all-purpose athletic shoes, shorts and a top.  Does
that sounds like it covers it?  By the way, there is something you should
know.  Before they got word of the date change, the lesbians, citing the
campus-wide nature of the contest, entered contestants, too.  Each
organization has only a single nominee.  The rumor is that they got a bunch of
radical organizations to sign blank nominating papers.  Personally, I don't
think they care about winning; I think they just want to wreck the
competition."

"Thanks for the warning, Bill.  The clothes sound about right.  Let me know if
you hear anything more."

Saturday was a brilliant spring day in April that comes to New Haven every ten
years or so.  Kathy dressed, picked up the small bag that held her clothing
changes and walked to Strathcona Hall in time to be there at nine o'clock.  As
she walked down the hall towards the designated room, she met Bill and John.
"Kathy, it's apparently working the way we thought," Bill said.  "The test is
the GRE that they got from the folks in Princeton.  There are a couple of
girls down there we recognize as Phi Bete's.  They're ugly as sin but they're
smart as hell.  The regular contestants are mostly looking bewildered."

Kathy entered the hall which was normally used for large lectures.  There
appeared to be nearly one- hundred girls present and it was obvious at a
glance which were which.  The minority appeared to be very attractive girls
who were real contestants.  She saw the brains that Bill had spoken of, but
there were other girls who puzzled her.  A few were built like men.  Then she
remembered the athletic competition.  Although she didn't know what events
would be contested, she figured that was what they were there for.  The girls
took alternate seats as if it was a normal exam.  But because of the
competition, there would be no cheating on this one.  The answer sheets were
passed out followed by the test booklets and then the contestants were
instructed to open their books and begin.  Kathy started through the
examination.  Although she did not realize it, her brain worked like a
computer on tests of this nature.  She went through the sections, marking her
machine-readable answer sheet.  Finishing the two-hour test with time to
spare, she turned it in and left the room.

Bill and John, joined by some of the other brothers, were sitting against the
wall waiting for her.  "How did it go, Kathy?" John asked anxiously.

"I think I did all right."  She smiled at them.  "I understand that the grades
will be posted at one o'clock.  The athletic contests, whatever they turn out
to be, will start at two-thirty out at the Bowl.  The beauty contest is this
evening.  Tell you what!  How about if sister buys her brothers a lunch at
Mory's?  Anybody interested?"

They gathered up their gear and went over to Mory's on York Street.  At
eleven-thirty, it was just opening for lunch so they were able to get a large
table.  When they were all seated, the brothers looked at her sheepishly.  One
of Mory's famous surly waiters appeared to take their orders.  Kathy ordered
steak sandwiches, medium rare, for everyone along with pitchers of beer.  The
boys looked startled.  "What did you expect me to order?  Watercress tea
sandwiches?  Mory's doesn't make them.  I asked before."  The immediate
laughter broke the ice.  When the meals came, they enjoyed the lunch
thoroughly.  Kathy signed the check and they went back towards Strathcona.

It was nearly one o'clock when they got back to the examination room.  There
were obvious signs of excitement as the people who were running the testing
scurried around.  John cornered one of the men and asked what was going on.
There was some irregularity with the scoring but he didn't really know what it
was.  He did know that some people were trying to reach the Princeton
examination people even though it was a Saturday.  The Alphas looked at each
other, puzzled by the explanation.  A few minutes later the man in charge
spoke up.  "Ladies and gentlemen, the results are final and will be posted in
a moment.  We apologize for the delay, but we had to check with Princeton.  As
you know, the test administered today is a variant of the Graduate Records
Examination   the GRE.  Of course, we are not scaling scores.  We had been
told that raw test scores run in a specified range.  One of our contestant's
scores was significantly above this range.  Princeton confirmed that, although
it is rare, it does occur.  We were able to provide assurances to them about
testing security, both before and during the test.  I will post the official
results in a moment.  However, I am pleased to announce the winner of the
Scholarship Competition is Katherine Smith of the Alphas!"

"My God, Kathy, you blew out the exam!  Guys, I ask you.  Can I pick 'em or
can I pick 'em!?"  Bill grinned at Kathy who faked a punch at his jaw.  They
heard some ugly noises down the hall and turned to look.  The man who had just
posted the standings was surrounded by a group of angry women.  "The lesbians
look unhappy.  I can see that at least one of their brain types looks like
she's about to cry.  Let's get out to the Bowl and avoid any trouble here."

Although there was shuttle bus service to the Yale Bowl from Payne-Whitney
Gym, they chose to take their own cars.  They arrived at the athletic area and
found a group gathering around a practice track.  They walked over, took a
schedule of events and then went over to a row of trees to look it over.  John
read it out to them.  "Good heavens, there's a sadist loose!  Kathy, the first
event is the 100-meter dash.  Then comes riflery at the Armory, then back to
the track for the 1,500 meter run, followed by what's called a strength
competition, whatever that is.  Can you handle it?  Have you ever fired a
rifle?"

"I never have, Bill.  But I've seen enough shooting in old war movies that I
think I know how its done.  You just look through the sights, squeeze the
trigger and the bullet does the rest.  I'm so proud of myself.  I even
remembered that you don't pull the trigger, you squeeze it.  Any tips?"

Another member of the group, Chris, spoke up.  "I used to do a lot of shooting
at camp, Kathy.  You have the procedure right, but a lot depends on the type
of sights on the guns you'll use.  I suspect they will give you closed sights,
but I'll tell you about the various sight patterns."  Chris proceeded to run
through ring sights, post sights, and open sights.  He ended with a final tip.
"Kathy, one more thing.  When you have the target fixed in your sights, take a
breath, release a little of it and hold the rest as you squeeze.  You'll do
just fine!"

Kathy went off to the dressing room to put on her shorts and then joined the
other girls assem bling for the 100 yard dash.  The event organizer was
looking around in dismay at the size of the group.  With over ninety girls and
only eight running lanes they would have to have twelve heats, followed by two
semifinals of six, followed by the finals.  They would never get through the
first event.  He explained the problem to them and asked if any girls wanted
to drop out.  Kathy looked around.  The rather small number of real
contestants all chose to stay but a bunch of others dropped out.  The field
was cut to forty girls who were divided into five heats.  Kathy was placed in
the second.

The Yale track had a runway, so 100 meters was run on a straightaway.  Without
turns, lane position was not a factor.  When the first group of runners
approached the starting line, she paid particular attention to one of the
girls who seemed to know what she was doing.  The girl backed into the
starting blocks, got out and adjusted the block position slightly, then tried
again.  When the blocks were adjusted to her satisfaction, she stood up and
awaited the call.  Although the competition was supposed to be for fun, it was
obvious that great care was being taken in running the events.  Obviously,
someone was paying attention to the lesbian threats and wanted to be sure that
the competitions were fairly run.  The runners were called to the line, took
their positions and were off at the starter's gun.  As Kathy expected, the
girl she had been watching moved quickly ahead of the pack and just pulled
away.  Kathy could see her continuing to drive at the far end of the course as
she crossed the finish line.  She was the winner by more than ten yards.

Then it was Kathy's turn.  Although she had watched the experienced girl, she
wasn't sure what the blocks should feel like.  She concluded that the idea was
to get a powerful drive off the blocks, accelerate out and slowly straighten
up as the race progressed.  She went to the blocks and tried her stance.  The
blocks provided the support for the leg drive that she expected they would.
She adjusted the spacing, tried them again and was satisfied.  The starter
called.  "Take your marks...  Set..."  The gun fired.  Kathy drove off down
the track trying to keep her back straight.  Her arms were driving as she
burned down the track looking straight ahead.  Her legs were driving as she
passed the halfway mark and she maintained the pace until her breasts broke
the finish tape.  Then she turned off the track and slowed down.  When she
looked up, the guys were all around her.

"Kathy, you did it!  You had the next girl by a good ten yards!  Why, in God's
name, didn't you tell us you were a sprinter?  It should have been obvious, I
guess, with your muscles, but... but you haven't been in training.  How did
you remember your block positions?  You didn't even look at the scale!"  Bill
was ecstatic.

Kathy was standing with her hands on her knees catching her breath.  Someone
handed her a towel which she used to wipe her face.  She wrapped it around her
neck and put on her sweat suit.  She looked up at Bill, grinning.  "That was
the first race I ever ran in my life!  I'm glad you liked my maiden
performance."  She sat down on the grass and looked at their incredulity.
"Honest, guys.  It really was."

Bill looked at John.  "Is there no end to this girl's talents?  I want to
believe her, but I can't.  You can't get a start like that the first time out
of the box.  My God, Kathy, sprinters work on their starts constantly.  They
rehearse their drive off the boards over and over.  How did you do it?"

"I just watched the girl who won the first heat.  She seemed to know what she
was doing.  Watching her movements, I guess I figured out the physics of the
start.  After that, I just had to keep the wheels turning."

"All she did was figure out the physics of a sprint start from a single
observation.  Good Heavens!  By the way, Kathy, that girl is the best female
sprinter at Yale.  She burns every other sprinter in the Ivy League.  I think
she's one of the lesbians."

Kathy lay down and closed her eyes.  She could hear the sounds of the other
heats being run as she fell asleep.  It seemed like only a second later when
someone shook her shoulder.  She opened her eyes and looked into John's face.
He said, "That's what worries me about you, Kathy.  You can't seem to relax."
He grinned and added, "You've been asleep for about half an hour.  They're
about to call the finals in the 100, and you're in second place.  Your time is
only fractionally off Mary Snyder's.  She's the sprinter who provided your
coaching on the starts.  Let's go!"  He pulled Kathy to her feet and they
walked over towards the starting line.  Kathy took off her sweats and a
brother Alpha took them.  Then she started her stretching exercises to warm up
again.

The race was called.  Kathy was in the second lane, next to Mary Snyder in
lane one.  After setting her blocks she stood up.  Mary had finished her
preparations and was standing beside her.  Kathy had an inspiration.  Turning
to Mary she said, "That was a great race you ran in the first heat.
Congratulations and good luck in the finals!"  She stuck out her hand to
shake.  Mary, in the process of getting mentally prepared to run, was taken
aback.  She mumbled something, looked at Kathy and then at Kathy's hand still
outstretched.  She took her hand in a weak grip and turned away.  Just then
the starter called the field.  Kathy took her crouch and rolled her weight
forward with her back straight.  The gun sounded and she was off.  It was an
even better start than the first time.  It could have been filmed and shown as
a demonstration of a perfect sprint start.  Her weight was just where it
should be as she came out of the crouch and dashed up the track with her legs
driving like pistons.  As she approached the finish line, Kathy called up her
last bit of energy to try to force her legs to drive even faster.  The finish
line came up in a blur and she could feel her breasts breaking the tape.
Coasting down, she jogged off the track and collapsed on the grass.

The guys who had been waiting at the finish line came running up to her, with
Bill in the lead.  "My God, Kathy, you won!  You beat Mary Snyder!  I don't
think she's lost a race in New England in years.  You left her at the post.
Your start was absolutely perfect and she blew hers.  She was gaining on you
at the end but there was too much distance to make up.  She couldn't do it.
What do you suppose happened to her start?"

Kathy was sitting on the grass laughing.  "My God, it worked!"

"What worked?" Bill asked.

"When we were getting ready to get into the blocks, I saw Mary putting on her
game face.  I realized that she was mentally preparing, so I just stuck out my
hand and wished her good luck.  It must have broken her concentration."  They
heard the announcement of Kathy's victory.  Her time had equaled Mary's in the
first heat and had beaten her own.  It was one of the fastest female times
Yale had ever recorded.

Then it was time for the shooting competition, so they went over to the rifle
range in a group.  Once again many of the competitors took advantage of the
offer not to compete.  This time some of the real candidates passed, too.  "I
guess they're afraid of guns," Kathy remarked.  The field was only nineteen
girls.  They were shooting small-caliber rifles on an indoor range at fifty
feet.  The competition was based on the total score on five targets, five
bullets at each target, fired from the prone position.  The maximum possible
score would be 250.

Kathy was in the last group to shoot and elected to go outside to wait.  As
they sat under a tree, Chris reviewed the sight patterns with her.  Each rifle
was fitted with a rear peep sight and a hooded post sight on the front.  "Just
remember, Kathy, you put the bulls-eye right on top of the post and squeeze.
Don't forget to take a breath, release a bit and hold the rest as you
squeeze."  Again, Kathy lay down and was instantly asleep.

Chris tugged at her shoulder to awaken her.  "Come on, champ, you're up.
Let's go!"  The guys followed her into the range.  Chris had borrowed a
spotting scope which he set up behind her position as the rangemaster called
the contestants to the line.  They were given their targets and five bullets
each in a wooden block.  They took their positions and Chris showed her how to
adjust the sling.  Kathy was wearing a shooting jacket with padded elbows and
a padded shoulder.  She put a pair of sound-absorbing ear protectors over her
ears and took her position.  The targets had been run down to their position
on the range.  The range master gave his orders: "Five shots, prone position.
Remain in position until all weapons have been fired and placed down on the
mats with bolts open.  Load and lock.  Fire at will."

Kathy sighted through the eyepiece.  It was the first time she had ever
sighted on a target and was surprised to see how small it looked.  She
remembered what Chris had told her.  Being careful to keep the weapon upright,
she positioned the post right under the bulls-eye.  She took a breath, let out
a little and started to squeeze gently.  The gun fired.  She hadn't known what
to expect but was afraid that the recoil would smash her shoulder.  She was
surprised and pleased at how little recoil there was.  She sighted and fired
again.  And again.  And again.  This was fun!  The last bullet flew down the
range and she opened the bolt ejecting the last shell.  Putting down the
weapon she carefully picked up her spent brass.  Looking around, she saw the
other girls were still firing.  Only one other girl in her group seemed to
know how to shoot.  When the firing stopped, they retrieved their targets
using a motor-driven wire that carried the targets back and forth on the
range.  She unclipped her target and looked at it.  Chris was looking over her
shoulder.  "Just keep doing that, Kathy, and we have it locked!  That's a
fifty!  You just shot out the center of the target!"  A judge came by and
picked up her target after putting her name on it.  The competition went on.
Kathy was having fun.  It seemed so easy to her.  Position.  Breathe and hold.
Squeeze.  Finally the competition was over and again Kathy was announced as
the winner with a score of 248.  The girl in second place had a 231.

They left the range and walked back towards the track with Kathy still wearing
her warmups.  Chris spoke to the group as they walked.  "Okay.  I give up.  We
recruited Wonder Woman.  Kathy, talking to you earlier, I would have sworn you
had no experience with target shooting.  Would you please tell me how you do
it?  I've been shooting for years and I've never had a 240!  And you get a
248, for God's sake.  By the way, why did you pull those two 9's?"

Kathy grinned up at him.  It was great.  She was having a lot of fun!  She
felt that she really did have a bunch of brothers looking out for her.  "It
was easy, Chris.  I just did what you said.  Isn't that what I was supposed to
do?"  She looked up at him in feigned innocence.  The others howled with
laughter.  "As for the nines the judge blew the scoring on one and the bullet
must have had a slight defect on the other."  She stuck out her tongue at
Chris and raced away before he could hit her.  The other guys just howled.  At
the track, Kathy took off her sweats.  One of the boys kidded her about
'Kathy's strip show' so she rolled her hips, gave a little bump, and stuck out
her tongue.  She did her stretching exercises carefully.  The 1,500 meters was
the metric mile.

Kathy was massaging her calf muscles when Jack, another Alpha, came hurrying
up carrying a blanket.  He spread the blanket and had her lie down on her
stomach.  He opened a bottle, poured some liquid onto her legs and started
kneading her muscles gently but firmly.  "You're tightening up, aren't you,
Kathy?  I worked as a team trainer in high school and here at Yale.  You can't
do the kind of job you need on yourself.  The 1,500 is a bitch.  If you get a
leg cramp in the middle of it, it's all over."  Jack continued to work on her
leg muscles.  "Watch your pace in the race.  There is a very good middle-
distance runner in it.  I'll point her out to you.  The trick is to maintain
the right pace.  If there is a fast pace, try to stay close to the front and
use the lead runners as a wind screen.  It'll save a lot of effort.  Watch the
girl I'll point out, Charlene.  If she's close to the front, try to stay with
her.  I know you can sprint.  It's important to have a finishing kick, which
is a sprint at the end of the race.  Look out for the start, though.  There
could be some accidental rough stuff with everyone jockeying for position.
You can start from blocks, but a lot of runners go from a crouch.  Now how do
you feel?"

"Mm," said Kathy who was now almost asleep.

The race was called and they went out on the track.  The field had increased
in size again; there were about thirty girls standing around preparing to run.
Charlene, a tall Black girl with long legs, was pointed out to her.  Jack was
certain that she was the competition in the race.  The race was nearly four
full laps on the 400-meter track.  The girls lined up with Kathy taking a
position midway across the track.  The starter gave his commands and the gun
sounded.  They were off.  Kathy broke quickly and moved to the inside.  A
couple of girls were ahead of her as they reached the first turn.  Coming out
of it, she glanced back and saw Charlene was on her shoulder.  Kathy was
pleased to find that she could maintain a long stride without a great deal of
effort.  They went through the second turn together, maintaining relative
position.

As they passed the 400-meter mark, Kathy sensed that one of the girls ahead
was starting to fade.  She eased over to the right to pass, still maintaining
her pace.  As she came up, she saw the second girl stumble into the back of
the first.  They both went down on the track as Kathy swept by.  Once into the
turn she looked over her left shoulder.  There was a mass of bodies down at
the point where the two girls had fallen.  Apparently others had tripped over
the girls sprawled on the track.  Kathy realized with a start that she was
right where she didn't want to be: in the lead.  She could hear footsteps over
her shoulder she assumed were Charlene's.  She was doing exactly what Kathy
had been trying to do, staying on the shoulder of the lead runner, using her
as a wind screen.  'Unfortunately,' Kathy thought, 'the lead runner is me!'
Kathy concentrated on her posture and maintaining her stride.  She swept the
next turn and came up to the 800-meter mark.  With her head up and striding
with her long legs she could see girls spread out ahead of her.  There was a
cluster of people on the infield gathered around the girls who had gone down.
Going into the turn she maintained the pace while the sound of footsteps
continued just over her right shoulder.  Kathy guessed that she and Charlene
were moving stride for stride.  She was being pursued by a chocolate shadow.
Coming out of the turn she was surprised to see that she was closing on the
stragglers.  Entering the next turn she went out to her right because she was
about to lap some of them.  Remembering what had happened at the 400-meter
mark she allowed plenty of room.  They closed the 1,200-meter mark and started
into the turn.

Now the race was getting dicey.  As if her shadow wasn't enough, she had to
pick her way around struggling runners she was lapping.  Obviously, the idea
of passing runners beginning at 1,000 meters hadn't occurred to Jack.  They
entered the final turn.  'It is now or never,' she thought.  'Charlene has
been running the ideal race.  I've been breaking the wind for her and finding
our way around the other runners.  All she's had to do is maintain position.
And she has, perfectly.'  It was time.  Kathy leaned forward, shortened her
stride a little and picked up the pace.  She drove around in the middle of the
track as she passed runners.  'Just a few more steps,' she thought.  'A few
more steps.'  Dimly she could hear cheering in the distance.  She was going as
fast as she could.  She looked out and saw the tape across the track.  She
broke it and kept on going, slowing carefully.  She slowed to a walk, looked
to the inside, stepped up onto the infield grass and collapsed.

She was lying there on her back panting when her brothers fell all over her.
They were hugging and kissing her and shouting.  Kathy smiled and stretched
out an arm.  "Help me up, someone.  There's something I have to do."  A hand
grabbed her and pulled her to her feet.  Jack appeared with her sweat suit and
a towel.  "Thanks, Jack.  You know, a sweat suit is well named.  I'm dripping.
I must have run off fifteen pounds.  And it's all your fault," she said with a
grin.  She went up, wrapped her arms around him and gave him a big smack on
the lips.  He turned crimson, while Kathy went off.  She looked around and
found Charlene sitting on the grass still trying to catch her breath.  Kathy
picked up a sweat suit and a towel lying on the ground and went over to the
girl.  Reaching out her hands she helped her stand up.  Then she took her in
her arms and gave her a big kiss.  The Black girl looked startled.  "I'm Kathy
Smith.  You're Charlene, but I don't know your last name."

"Brown," came the soft reply.

"It was you on my shoulder through the whole race, wasn't it?"

Charlene smiled warmly.  "It sure was.  I've never run such a race and lost.
It was perfect.  I was right on your shoulder.  Then on the last turn you
kicked in the afterburner and you were flying.  I've never seen such a
powerful finishing kick.  But, hey, you're the girl that won the 100 meters,
too, aren't you?"  Kathy nodded.  "How is it I haven't seen you before, then?
I pride myself on knowing all the other middle-distance runners, but I don't
know you.  I knew you could run, but I was certain I was going to burn your
little pink ass at my distance."  She grinned and hugged Kathy, "Instead you
fried my Black ass like Cajun-fried chicken.  By the way, I surely admired the
view!  You were really moving that little ass.  It was beautiful to watch.
That was a great race!"

Kathy put the towel she was carrying around Charlene's neck and used it to
pull Charlene's head towards hers.  She whispered in her ear, "It was the
first mile I ever ran in my life."

Charlene took her by the shoulders and held her at arms length.  She studied
Kathy: the golden hair now caked with sweat, the brilliant sapphire-blue eyes,
the velvet complexion.  "My God!  I believe you.  But no one else will!  That
was a professional race you ran.  And you had to run it through an obstacle
course of amateurs!"  She studied Kathy up and down.  "I can tell you're
straight and I know I am.  The lesbians talked to a black organization and I
agreed to run for them.  Kathy, you're made to be loved by a man, not handled
by some dike.  It looks like you're going to win today's competition in a
walk.  The word around is that you will win the beauty contest, but could be
beaten with points picked up everywhere else with ringers.  Kathy, I ran the
best race I could run.  I don't know what my time was but I expect it's my
personal best.  I couldn't have run a better race, so I'm not ashamed.  In
fact I'm proud to have lost to a person like you."  She wrapped Kathy in her
arms and hugged her.

Kathy hugged her back.  The two bodies, one white and one black, were locked
in a womanly embrace.  When Charlene pushed back there was a single tear
rolling down one cheek.  "I *am* proud.  Kathy, there's just one thing.  Look
out for a girl named Sophie Stotz in the strength event.  It's supposed to be
secret, but our group found out it's going to be arm wrestling.  Sophie can
break your arm in that event, she's so strong.  She's a bull dike and she
hates girls like you and me.  If you like men, she *hates* you.  Now she's got
incentive.  The people know you're going to win the crown, but they would
settle if you had to compete in the beauty contest with a broken arm in a
sling.  Believe me!  She's capable of doing it.  Say, why don't you just take
a pass on that one!  It would blow their minds!  They'd be so mad they would
spit bullets.  Kathy, you have so many points, you can't possibly lose.  Do
it!"

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