******

Autumn, 1961.  Anytown, USA.

Reluctantly, Tipper Dorpe got out of bed.  She stretched, yawned, fiddled with the Blue-proof lock on her door, and trudged downstairs in her pyjamas.
Walking into her family's immaculate kitchen, she noticed that -- once again -- they had started breakfast without her.  Mom, in her kimono and curlers,
Dad, in his checkered shirt and checkered pants, and the sister from hell... "Morning, Sis", Blue said, "nice pillow fur".

"Morning, Tom-cat", Tipper replied.  It was true; she always looked a mess at this hour, but she wasn't about to give her older sister the satisfaction.

"Oh! Good morning, Tipper", Joy Dorpe exclaimed, "would you like some waffles?"

"Great waffles and bacon, honey", Bob Dorpe commented. He had already eaten all the bacon.

"Why, thank you honey" Joy replied.  "Now Tip, you best hurry up and eat.  School starts in an hour, and I hear they have a pretty strict dress code".

"Yeah, like you have to _be_ dressed", Blue interjected.

"Blue dear, be nice to your little sister"

Tipper scarfed down her breakfast, ran upstairs, showered and got dressed, and raced out the door to catch the school bus.

******

"Great", Tipper thought as she walked down the street, "Blue's gone off to class already.  I don't know why, but for some reason bullies don't hassle me
when she's arou..."

She turned a corner, and looked straight into the face of Devlin.

"Hi", he said, and smirked.  He was a greaser in white khakis and a black leather jacket worn over a stained white t-shirt, the town tough who organized
the Aleph gang. Three of his similarly-clad friends crowded around Tipper as he spoke.

"You know, you'd get to school a lot faster if you used our shortcut"

"Wh-what's the shortcut?", asked Tipper.

"This street"

"What?"

"This street belongs to us.  Fork over two bits, and you can use it"

"That's ridiculous!" shouted Tipper.  "I'm not paying you twenty-five cents to use my own-"  "It's a lot easier if you do", Devlin said.

"Yeah", added one of the thugs, "and safer, too".

Tipper sighed and opened up her purse.  "Okay, guys... you can have the money.  But you are in for _such_ a butt kicking"

******

Later that day, Snickers walked into the neighborhood drugstore.  It was an inviting place with ceiling fans, lots of greenery and an old-fashioned soda
fountain. The propreitor read a magazine behind the counter, while a tall, white-furred young man in an old suit racked up high scores on a wooden pinball
machine.  She bought a cherry sarsparilla, found her usual place by the window, sat down and began to read.

"Heaven", she thought.  "No distractions, just me, Herman Hesse, and a cold sarsparilla"

But half an hour into her book, her mind wandered.

"Who _is_ that guy, anyway... I've seen him in here before..."  She decided to approach the pinball player, more out of sheer curiousity than anything
else.

"Hi"  "Hi", he answered, not taking his eyes off his game.

"I see you a lot.  You're always playing pinball in here"

"Yeah, I like pins.  They're half physics and half reflexes.  Kind of controlled chaos, really -- huh?  Bogus! I always make that shot!"

"What?"

"Oh, nothing.  Hey, what's your name?"

"Snickers"

He shakes her hand.  "Mine's Twix.  Nice to meet you". Twix continued playing pinball.

"So, do you live around here?", she asked.

"No, just passing through.  I'm here for a few weeks, then on to the next town.  I hope to see all of America that way"

"Oh, I get it.  You're one of those beatnik traveller types, right?"

"It's stuck again"

"Hmm?"

Snickers looked over to the machine.  The silver ball was wedged in a corner.  Twix nudged the cabinet, but no result.

"Maybe if you used more English...", she suggested.

"I don't see how talking to it would help"

("he knows what "bogus" means, but not "english"? Weird...", Snickers thought)

After an awkward silence, Twix said "Hey, how'd you get your fur to look like that?"

"You mean, purple?  It's just always been that way. Why, does it look weird?"

"No, not at all!  It's just... different"  Twix paused. "Say, are you free tonight?"

"Maybe", Snickers said.  "Why?"

"There's this groovy-looking club I've been meaning to check out.  Maybe we could meet up here and go together"

"You asking me out"

"Yeah..."

"All right"

******

In an alley behind the local pool hall, Devlin's gang had assembled, motorcycles parked at the other end.  They drank from whiskey flasks, hung out and
shot the breeze.

"So this guy said he'd scar me for five, six bucks"

"I don't know, I want another tattoo, but I gotta save for some new wheels"

"I'll tell you, the best part about service was..."

When Devlin showed, they fell silent.

"Awright, first order of business", he said in a low growl. "I want to know how the Alephs been doing lately.  Any rumbles, harassment, five-finger
discounts?"

"Yeah, we done all those", said Mallory.  She was Devlin's right-hand man and the lone female Aleph.

"Good.  But it's not enough.  We gotta do something different.  Show this town we're not to be messed with" He took a long drag off of his ever-present
cigarette. "Stealing's ok, but it gets... old.  Now dissent... chaos... anarchy... that's fun!"

"Man, I knew we shouldnt'a lifted those Nietzche books", muttered one gang member to another.

"Awright, first we need..."

Just then, a diminutive raccoon boy entered the crowd.

"Huh? You again?"

Mallory sneered.  "Well, if it isn't the runt of the litter.  You got a lotta nerve showing up here, after last time"

He stood his ground.  "So, am I in?"

"Not so fast", Devlin said,  "Before we consider you, you'll have to pass a little test"  "Name it"

Devlin turned to Mallory.  "What were we gonna make the kid do?", he whispered.

Then a wicked grin spread on his face.  "Yeah, that'll keep him busy"  He turned back to the kid.  "Okay, here's what you gotta do.  Next morning, when the
neighborhood milkman makes his rounds, you steal every bottle of fresh milk and bring them here.  Pull that off, and you just might be Aleph material.  Got
it, kid?"

"Yeah", he replied, not entirely sure but determined, "I got it".

"Now get lost", Devlin said.

Later, when the sun went down and the rest of the gang had left, Devlin walked over to his motorcycle and greeted a familiar face.

"Ready to go, babe?", he asked.

"Yeah, let's blow this joint", answered Blue, and climbed onto the back of his bike.

******

Tipper was on the phone in her bedroom, talking to Snickers.  "So you have a hot date tonight?", she said. "Oh, I see... just some guy.  Well, tell me how
it works out with Some Guy.  ...Alright, Snick.  Talk to you later"

******

Tucked away in the outskirts of town, a small, hip club known as "The Burrow" quietly operated.  Though relatively unknown, it had established itself as a
haven for those slightly left of center.  No surprise then, to see Snickers and Twix outside.

"Hey, you're a new face around here", said the doorman to Twix as he ushered them in.  "It's amateur night tonight. You dig?"  "I dig"  "Groovy.  Have fun,
cat"

Inside, a small crowd of about 30 drank coffee under dim overhead lights, while a bongo and tabla player (oddly enough) jammed off each other on a small
stage. Abstract, proto-psychedelic artwork hung from the walls, offsetting the darkness of the club.

They sat down at a table, ordered black coffee and pastry, and took in the sights.  "So, what do you think of the place?", Twix asked, in between mouthfuls
of baklava.

"It's real cool, cat", Snickers replied.  "Funny, I spent my life in this dinky town and never noticed it"

"Well, you pick up on things travelling", he said with a wry smile.

She feigned anger.  "Was that a chop?"

"Oh, no!" Twix said.  "I'm glad you're here.  Man, I'd probably never walk into a strange joint like this by myself"

"A shy guy, huh... I'll accept it.  Hey, you going to jam?"

"Now that you mention it..."

Twix set down his coffee and took the stage.  He cleared his throat and:

"Nowadays it doesn't matter what I do, I'm in the same funk for richer or poorer.  Be a king?  Hah!  I'm happier being paid two bits to mop and sweep
things under the rug. Under's where it's all at anyway, where all the dust of the world collects to hear music played by ancient fingers. As long as I keep
the wolves at bay leaves in my stew I'll be fine.  Seeking answers without definition, seeking truth of the now.  Truth happens, man, and there's nothing
you can do about it, just stir the pot until the recipe's done. Done, finito, out of gas, so you carry a bucket down the highway looking for a station.  A
rest stop, a point of view, overlooking -- the Grand Canyon.  I'm making a cocktail of dirt and stone, mixing it up and maybe some flowers will grow in it.
One morning I found two pairs of old boots and thought "I could walk in these", but no, I'd probably be arrested"

The drumming stopped, the audience clapped and hollered, and Twix hopped off the stage to rejoin Snickers. The house jazz band came on and started playing.
"Well", Twix said, "shall we dance?"

******

Bob Dorpe felt very, very hungry.  It had been two hours since partaking of Joy's carrot casserole at dinner, and he was long overdue for a snack.

He got up from his couch (_It's Howdy Doody Time_, the TV blared) and slimed over to the kitchen fridge.  Opening it, he found various goodies -- Joy kept
it well stocked -- but no ham.  Darn it, and he really wanted ham.

"Joooooy", he called into the downstairs bedroom, "we're out of ham again"

"All that sodium isn't good for you, honey", she replied.

Nutbunnies.  He was going to have to enlist Tipper.

"Tip, could you do me a favor?", he said, sliming back into the living room where she was sprawled half-asleep on an old chair.

"Uhh?  Yeah, sure thing Dad"

"Can you run down to the deli and get me a ham sandwich? Here's two bucks.  Don't tell your mother, and you can keep the change"

******

After selecting the perfect bread, cuts of meat, condiments and fixings at the delicatessen ("tell your father the Brisbane St. Deli says thanks", the man
behind the counter said), Tipper strode out into the cool night air.

"Geez, it's a lovely night", she thought, "provided the Alephs don't jump me.  I wish I could be out having fun like Snickers, or Blue... where is Blue,
anyway?  Mom and Dad will be worried sick"

She walks on, past the Art Deco deli, the barbershop, and the dress store.

The hum of a motorcycle draws her attention.  "Huh... bikers..."

As it's headlights illuminate the road, she turns her head -- and sees Devlin and Blue.

"Oh...My...God..."

Tipper drops the sandwich, and starts running after them.

******

"There's only one place they could be going", Tipper thought as she raced through the streets, "Tryster's Hill"

Correct.  A few minutes later, Devlin's motorcycle roared up to a prime make-out spot on that secluded hill.  Tipper, exhausted and panting, caught up with
them and hid in the bushes.  She got there in time to observe part of their "conversation".

"Gross, they're still making out", she thought.

Blue broke the lip-lock momentarily to whisper sweet nothings.  "mmm, devy... you're the dreamiest..."

"She stayed out late for _this_?", Tipper thought disgustedly.

Devlin said something to Blue that can't be repeated here.

"That's IT!", Tipper fumed.  "I'm going out there and push over his bike... the dirty-minded..."

Then it hit her.

"Wait a minute.  I'm always yelling at Blue for interfering with my life, being a busy-body... what right do I have to interfere with hers?"

They continued smooching.

"Blue's my sister, but she's a grown woman... sorta... she can go with guys if she wants... even (shudder) Devlin. Alright, let `em play tonsil hockey.
I'm going home"

"Devy, I could just stay out here all night", Blue said.

"We don't need to stay, babe", Devlin replied.

Tipper's ears perked up.  "Hmm?"

"There's a motel just out of town.  Let's burn up Morhobiki Road, babe"

As they sped off, Tipper came to a realization.

She was going to kill them.  Both.  As messily as possible.

******

Twix and Snickers arrived back at her house giddy and laughing.

"I can't remember the last time I danced so hard!", Snickers exclaimed.

"There's a reason they call it Bop", Twix replied.

"So do they "Bop" where you're from?"

"Heh.  Not really"

They stopped to catch their breath outside the front gate.

"Hey, the night's still young", Twix said.  "Wanna go catch a movie?"

"What's playing?"

"Underworld USA"

"Nah.  Too violent"

"How about the drive-in, then?"

"Twix, neither one of us has a car"

"Oh, it's not far from here"

Snickers smiled.  "Thanks, but... I gotta go.  See you at the drugstore tomorrow?"

"Okay"

She turns to leave, then doubles back.  "Oh, Twix?"

"Yeah?"

Snickers leans forward and kisses him.

"I had a wonderful evening"

Twix watched her walk to the door.

"Mental note", Twix thought, "events as conceptualized rarely do justice to the reality of the here and now"

"Or", he continued to think, "in other words, this cat makes me head spin"

******

Devlin's bike zigzagged up the mountain road.  He was going at a ridiculous speed, partly for the thrill and partly to impress Blue.

"Wooooo!", she screamed.  Apparently, it was working.

Meanwhile, Tipper was looking desperately for a ride, but the hour was late and cars were few.

Then she saw a police car approach.  She got an idea.

"HEY!", she shouted, "PIGS SUCK!  AND FUZZ SUCKS TOO!"

It worked.  The car pulled over, and the officer stuck his head out.

"Shouldn't you be in bed, little girl?", he said.

"Officer!  Thank God you stopped!  My sister has run off with an older guy, and I need your help before he does something very, very bad!"

"Hey, is this some kind of prank?"

"No, it's for real!  Please, take me up Morhobiki Road. I know where they're going.  There's still time!"

"Hmm... you do sound worried.  Okay, hop in.  We'll check it out"

"Thank you!  And please, hurry!"

Devlin hanged another lightning-fast turn.  "We're almost to the highway, babe", he remarked.  "Havin' fun?"

Blue shouted a vulgar affirmative.  He grinned.  "That's my girl"

They approached a tunnel.  "Tunnel O' Love, babe"

As they sped through the dark, Devlin heard a sound closing in on them.  "Huh? A siren?"

Before they knew it, the flashing lights of the cop car were upon them.  "Pull over, scumbag!", he shouted.

"Dammit!"  Devlin sped out of the tunnel, then braked so abruptly that Blue tumbled off the bike.  "Ow!"

She picked herself up off the road with skinned knees and shoulders.  "Devlin, what are you DOING?"

"Sorry babe, but no chick's worth this much trouble"

He got off his motorcycle and stood up.  "Officer, this is all just a misunderstand..."

"Climb it", Tipper said, and flipped the finger.

******

"Well, he's 19 and your sister is 17", the officer escorting Tipper and Blue home said.  "That's pretty much a no-no in this state".

"How long can you detain him?", Tipper asked.

"Well, he didn't really commit any crime, `less you count speeding.  But I think he and your sister learned their lesson... didn't they, miss?"

"Yeah", Blue said, "I learned my lesson"

Needless to say, their parents were not thrilled.

"Tipper Namir Dorpe!", Joy shouted.  "Where on Earth have you been?"

"We were worried sick!" Bob shouted, "and hungry, also!"

"Mom... Dad... couldn't you have called the police?"

"Oh, your father tried", Joy replied indignantly, "but his finger got stuck in the dial.  It took us an hour and two bottles of Crisco to get it out!"

"I kind of liked that part..." Bob said, licking his finger.

"Mom, I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have ran off like that... I only wanted to keep Blue from..."  ("Wait", she thought. "For Blue's sake, maybe I'd better not
mention that")

"Tipper, we expect wild behavior from Blue", Joy said. "But you've always been the smart one, the responsible one. Frankly, I'm disappointed in you"

She appealed to her father.  "Dad..."

"Your mother is right, Tipper.  Go to your room, young lady, you're grounded"

******

Tipper sulked in her room.  "Stupid Blue..."

Blue snuck down the hallway and peeked in.  "Hey, Sis. Can we talk?"

She opened her door.  "Oh, all right"

Blue sat down on the bed.  "I just wanted to say thanks for saving my butt back there"

Tipper shrugged.  "Hey, what are sisters for?"

"That Devlin was a real jerk.  I just wish I'd seen it sooner... he seemed so reckless, so passionate..."

"Passionate!"  Tipper chuckled.  Her mood brightened a bit.

"Anyway, I apologize.  I was behaving like a grade-A ass"

"Nicely put", Tipper said sweetly.  "I'll forgive... but remember, you owe me big time"

******

Dawn was cracking as Tipper woke up the next morning. She glanced over at the clock: 5:30.

"Wow", she thought, "must be all that excitement last night"

She tip-toed down to the kitchen, and poured herself a glass of orange juice.  "Still grounded, though.  That sucks.  Why can't I have fun sometimes...
like Snickers... or Blue..."

She looked out through the kitchen blinds.  "Aah... fresh milk.  Thank heaven for small favors"

Suddenly, a boy ran by their porch, picked up the milk-bottle carrier, and started running down the street.

"Th' hell?"  Incensed, Tipper ran outside after him.

"The NERVE of that kid..."

He was fast, but she was gaining on him!  He glanced over his shoulder to see his pursuer.  Just then, Tipper lunged forward and tackled him.

He went down, hard.  The bottles went flying.  A loud CRASH!, and then the street was covered in milk and broken glass.

They looked at each other for a few seconds.  Bruised, sprawled on the ground, their hair and clothes dripping with milk, they could only think of one
thing to say to each other:

"I'm Tipper.  What's your name?"

"Taimoor", the boy answered, "pleased to meet you"

THE END