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Clint saved up his Marlboro points and bought a Batmobile. It wasn’t the actual Batmobile (owned by Richard Champagne of Ahwatukee, Arizona) but it did have working two rocket launchers so that was somewhat of a conciliation.
When we asked dad to cook breakfast, he said no and told us he was “finding his truth.” Then he locked himself in the den. It’s been days and he still hasn’t emerged. We made our own pancakes in new shapes that were chaotic and free. On Wednesday we boarded up the den. The only truth was in the pancake batter.
The Parkers cleaned a ravine and mailed any excess water back to the ocean. The ravine water found it hard to readjust to ocean life. It was self-conscious about its lack of salt, and then there were all the damn sharks to worry about.