Many things happened at that little cottage near Acheson Lake. Most of them were in-depth dentistry lectures and seminars. Slides, talks, little discussion groups. I can remember passing around plaster mould jaw sets purportedly belonging to astronauts and other national heroes. I remember handing them to you and seeing your own smile. The speakers came from the nearby 16 week dental college. We immediately agreed to never let them touch our mouths. Although they denied it, you were convinced they were prisoners who had plea-bargained their sentences down in exchange for doctoring the teeth of the state's orphans. I was so jealous. I remember one weekend one of them (Andre? Xander?) brought an x-ray machine and you begged him to let you keep his lead apron. He would've let you...

The most important thing at the moment happens to be audience-appropriate magazine advertising. Making sure the right people see the right messages about martial arts self-defense courses and the benefits of home snake ownership and free range pan-caking on a monthly basis. If the wrong group sees an advertisement for…liquids who knows where it'll end. People might start to get ideas. They might put together a petition to change the name of their state. Get enough signatures. Get it passed. One simple act of mass-ignorance could render all our stationary sets and return address labels worthless. I've had these address seals since I gave up driving. Any number of Scenarios kept here in these sealed envelopes could come to pass. A working Mother of four sees an ad for dog sled...

Thank god. Oh thank god!
The cider mill burned to the ground.
I'll be honest with you, I'm glad it burned down. Goddamn cider mill. Goddamn any kinda mill. Goddamn grinding. You know what they're really grinding in there. You know. Yeah.
Ugh god what a relief. I can get donuts right here. And the cider, look it wasn't even that great. It wasn't fresh. It's well water. You got any idea how many people come in there every day? They made it back in January, they freeze it in big blocks. I've seen it. And they don't wash their hands.

I AIN'T DRIVING OUT TO NO GODDAMN CIDER MILL! THAT'S ENOUGH!
I don't care how close it is to the outlet mall. They can go to hell with them.
What do we know about apples?
CAN I PLEASE TURN ON THE FAN?

Fall crafting has begun in earnest. People are painting everything orange. It doesn't stop with garden rocks. It's carried all the way through to spare bedroom ceilings and step children. Normally the state would get involved at this point but little-known provisions of the “Stand Your Ground” law keep them uninterested. “As long as it doesn't impair their breathing,” has become the phrase we live by. Everything is orange and there'll soon be plenty of festive “Indian Corn” to tolerate. It has also become customary in these parts to fill every drawer with those decorative dwarf gourds. The kinds with the unfortunate bumps. Another thing to acknowledge but never discuss. Soon after it'll be time to dye one foot black in honor of the...

I can't tell if this piñata is smiling. It's better if they're smiling. It means they're oblivious. They have no idea what's coming. Why make it worse? There's enough misery. Let them think it's normal to be a rainbow-colored pony filled with Tootsie-Rolls. Why not? That's how the world should be, anyway. They should be unacquainted with brutality. We all should.