Cheesecake and the Art of Political Warfare

by Sakana Sara (魚 サラ)
illustrated by haitoku

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/100813.html)

[disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any real people and events is coincidental. …yeah, maybe not so coincidental but at least heavily tinkered with. Hell, most of the main cast isn’t even from Earth in this thing, and the ones who are aren’t even 100% human. Still, if you are easily offended or don’t care for smut in your political silliness, you might want to skip this.]

“No. Listen to me. No, Greg, you listen! You hold your mandibles still and you LISTEN TO ME for one fucking minute, all right, one more click out of you and I hang up this comm, I come to your office, and I separate your head from your fucking thorax, you get me? …all right then.”

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All The Way

by Tsukizubon Saruko (月図凡然る子)
illustrated by by Sakana Sara (魚 サラ)

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/96796.html)

They found Lily’s body on September 8th, late in the morning. It was a Monday, and Mrs. Packard had to open the copy shop where she worked, much earlier than Lily was supposed to go to school; but she got a phone call at her job around 9:30 from the school receptionist, asking why Lily hadn’t either come to her first two classes or called in sick. She went home right away, and in the end broke open the door to Lily’s bedroom, and found Lily lying on her bed, watching the ceiling with a rapt, fascinated, almost peaceful expression. Her wrists had been carefully cut in two long lower-case t’s, and the short, sharp vegetable knife that had done it rested just at the edge of the grip of her fingers, as though she were deep in thought and about to tap it like a pencil to focus her mind. The blood had dried around her hands in two small puddles on the pink bedspread, like punctuation; a colon, maybe, opening a list of her mother’s screams. They eventually brought a neighbor running over to find her, to pull her away, to make the phone calls and arrangements when she couldn’t be calmed down, couldn’t be coaxed or embraced into sense. There was a special announcement at James High, and most of the senior classes were allowed to go home after second lunch.

Allison didn’t go home. She meant to at first, but then she drove around town in aimless, spreading circles, running at least two red lights, dried salt all over her cheeks. When she passed the library, where she and Lily had been going to meet to share headphones and watch a movie for History, she braked the car to a shuddering halt and fumbled off her seatbelt, flung open the car door, and leaned out of it and threw up.

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Sympathy for the Devil

by Sakana Sara (魚 サラ)

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/87263.html)

I don’t have to do it like this, just so we’re clear.

It isn’t really necessary for me to stand here in the middle of a graveyard at midnight, all dressed up like some immortal pretty boy out of an Anne Rice novel with my fake skin all pale and perfect and my fake hair blue-black and carefully mussed and my fake eyes a shade of green just this side of unnatural and rimmed with just a touch of black stuff. I could have told the guy to meet me at a crossroads out in the middle of nowhere. Hell, I could have told him to meet me at the Starbucks on Fifth and Main and we could have done this whole thing over coffee.

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One For The Road

by Sakana Sara (魚 サラ)

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/73551.html)

The thing about a bar on a two-lane state highway in the middle of nowhere is, nobody ever comes in but truckers and bikers. You deal in beer, peanuts, and plenty of Johnny Cash on the jukebox, and some of these guys sure look like they’d name a son Sue just to toughen him up.

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The Fortune-Telling Doll

by Sakana Sara (魚 サラ)

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/62238.html)

illustrated by Sakana Sara

Note to self, I thought sourly, never ever ever go to the surf shop next to the B&N if time is an issue and Ray is with you, not even to buy a single bar of wax.

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