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The paper has an article regarding a new donut tax. Concerned about the donut tax, Homer buys a paper while juggling around Maggie, etc. After finding only train flattened coins in his pocket, Homer tries to pull Maggie out through the little space that the door opens, but pulls off Maggie's clothing accidentally. Homer tries to put a note on Santa's Little Helper about Maggie being trapped.

The Groundskeeper and Other Short Stories | Virtualbookworm Publishing

However, since Homer wrote it in cheese, Santa's Little Helper licks it off of the paper. Homer ultimately chooses to just steal the vending machine with Maggie still inside. Wiggum later leaves and goes to get some donuts. This story is a parody from Pulp Fiction , when Vincent tells Winnfield what the quarter-pounder with cheese is called in Paris Royal with Cheese. Bumblebee Man returns from his show and plans to relax at home. However, he encounters a series of disasters similar to his show that accidentally destroys his house and his wife divorces her husband.

Snake is driving his car listening to a rock version of the Simpsons theme song while Chief Wiggum is walking down the street, eating doughnuts. Wiggum notices Snake, and Snake runs him over impulsively.

22 Short Films About Springfield

Wiggum chases after Snake and they indirectly wind up in Herman's Military Antiques. Herman captures them at gunpoint. This story is also a parody from a Pulp Fiction scene. Reverend Lovejoy walks his dog and has him relieve himself on Ned Flanders ' front yard. Ned comes out onto his yard, and Lovejoy insincerely scolds his dog.

Marge is still trying to remove the gum from Lisa's hair. After Ned suggests freezing it out, he accidentally mashes more hair into it. Soon, a large crowd of people has gathered in to the Simpsons' kitchen to offer suggestions, including Dr. Hector von Colossus , Lenny and Mr. Cletus finds a pair of boots and gives them to Brandine for her job interview, but she refuses to accept them, as they may "scuff up the topless dancing runway" at the place she's trying to get the job at. Brandine tells Cletus to put them back where they came from.

Cletus climbs a telephone pole and hangs them over the power lines where he found them. Cletus then shouts at his mother to get off the roof.

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Milhouse chooses to purchase a Hamburgler comic for 75 cents, but at that moment, his father, Kirk , comes in and, appalled that Milhouse is just buying comics, he takes Milhouse to another place. Herman has captured Snake and Wiggum, who are tied up, and is now holding a shotgun and waiting for 'Zed' to get to his store. Standard shipping can on occasion take up to 30 days for delivery.

List this Seller's Books. Payment Methods accepted by seller. AbeBooks Bookseller Since: August 14, Stock Image. Published by Virtualbookworm. Condition: Good Soft cover. Save for Later. In her heart, and now in her mind, too, she still occupied the world before the Water Wars, back when people still drove cars, sailed the oceans in vast liners, and bought tickets in planes that flew above the clouds. D-mat had rendered all that obsolete.

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Why take time getting somewhere when you could be there in a moment? There were no airlines anymore, no freeways. Sometimes she forgot who Clair was entirely. How was she going to get from one side of the world to the other to visit her granddaughter? The first time she went missing, drones picked her up two miles out of town, lugging a suitcase full of old clothes as though she intended carrying them all the way to Zambia.

I started visiting even more frequently, but that only made her upset and angry. She ran away three more times, and on the last time she slipped and hurt herself. I was waiting at the house when the peacekeepers brought her in. She had been crying. I could see the tear tracks on her dusty face. She had been kidnapped, she said. A prison, she called the assisted care community I found for her. It was the best available, but of course she hated it. The confinement, the routine, the constant observation—all of it. One of the terrible things about her illness was how, despite causing her so much calamity, she remained recognisably who she had been.

If she had become a different person, it would have been easier to do what we had to do. But we had no choice, for all that she argued and fought with us.


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It was like smacking a child who honestly thought she was the centre of the universe. My mother had the same sense of drama, if very different strategies, than my daughter, now almost two. Predictably, she tried to escape and hurt herself again. Her carers started locking her room at night, but she always found a way to slip out. They tried sedating her. They considered tracking devices, physical restraints, drugs.

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All she wanted to do was visit her loved ones. All she wanted to do was keep them safe. She was my mother. Could I punish her for that? Fearing a breakdown, I started coming every day.

The Very Quiet Cricket (The Very Hungry Caterpillar & Other Stories)

I became obsessed with the possibility that Juliet might attempt self-harm rather than accept that this was how the world worked now. I would sit with her at nights until she fell asleep, cradling Clair in my lap. These two remarkable women, at opposite ends of their lives, totally ruled my own life now.

I was exhausted. As I left the hospital one exhausting night, I was hailed by a groundskeeper I had seen a couple of times, tending the roses. A solid man in overalls with white hair poking out from under the hat he wore to keep the moonlight at bay, he was notable because he looked even older than Juliet. Perhaps he was both. There were thorns stuck into the thick leather.


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You need to call Andre. There were no sides in the Water Wars, just like there were no victors. He gave me an address written on an actual piece of paper by a shaky hand. I almost threw out the note he had given me, but was stopped by the effort he had gone to.

I had no intention of making the call. I remember thinking that I would hand it in to the carers the next day. If he was acting out his illness to strangers in the middle of the night, they needed to be told. That night Juliet sprained an ankle in the garden, not far from where I had met my would-be benefactor. And they were desperate. She was at a breaking point, and so was I.

I sent Andre a message when I got home. Where carers had failed, locks had failed, daughter and granddaughter had both failed, I would give a complete stranger the chance to work a miracle. He called two hours later and explained who he was. The embarrassment of being talked about behind my back was assuaged by his calm, open manner. He was frank, too, in a way I found refreshing.

Andre was a hobbyist, he explained. He loved boats. Where some people dabbled in tiny sloops or yachts, taking gentle joyrides in secluded bays, his interest lay in the big ships that had plied the oceans. The outriggers, the tankers, the icebreakers. The whaling vessels that had driven entire species to the brink of extinction. The destroyers that the navy of one nation might have sent to do war with another.