----- Original Message -----
From: Valandar TheRed <valandar_the_red@yahoo.com>
To: Fanfic MailingList <ffml@fanfic.com>
Sent: Thursday, January 20, 2000 10:36 AM
Subject: [FFML] [Gunsmith Cats][ Take a guess! ] A Match Made In...?
Once again, my dementia rears its ugly head...
Indeed it does, but we won't go into *that*.
A Match Made In...?
"But, Rally, he's perfect for me!" squealed Minnie-
May, hearts rising like helium ballons from her now
heart-shaped eyes. The overall effect, combined with
the cute outfit she wore, was so saccharine that it
was positively sickening.
Hearts rising like helium ballons? Last I checked, we only
have one...and the thought of Minnie-May's heart rising without
the rest of her would be sickening (kind of like the bit in Alien where...)
Rally Vincent sighed. "Look, Minnie-May, I know
you feel this way now. But what about when you grow up?
What about when he grows up?"
Isn't Minnie-May about 17 or so? In which case she's
about as grown up as she's going to be.
The smaller girl pouted, and planted her feet.
Bracing her fists on her hips, she glared at her best
friend. "You know I'll never really grow up, not after
what they did to me... when I was younger. And he'll
never really grow up, either! And that's not all we have
in common!"
I was expecting Peter Pan upon reading this, but the next
paragraph should have been my first clue.
"Oh, like what?"
Minnie-May held up her hand. "One, we're both short.
Two, we both love big explosions. Three, our names are
even similar!"
Rally put a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Look,
okay, maybe you have something in common. But I still
think you should take it a bit slower. Five dates in
five nights? And you're already talking about marrying
him?"
The blonde girl blushed. "What can I say, Rally,
it's true love."
The taller girl snorted, and started to say some-
thing, but was interrupted by the squeaking of a high-
pitched horn outside. "Oh, well. Sounds like loverboy is
here. Behave yourself."
Minnie-May grinned impishly. "Of course!" She pulled
her jacket on, and ran out to the tiny car, shouting,
"Oh, Mini-Me, let's go! I'm starving!"
And nothing quite perpared me for that surprise. Good one
Valandar!
Steven P. Cornett
cornetts@gemair.com