What a story

The annual, sort of, blog story is still underway at VC.

Our favorite hero, Brett Barboursville, a man who has risen from the dead more times than John Foregainst Kerry, was last spotted down at Rancho Malario, speeding off into the sunset toward Tijuana, a new face, and possibly a new identity. Meanwhile, Delilah, fresh from an appointment at the ALASE clinic, and the evil arch-fiend KKKarl Rove were experiencing what can only be termed a low polar moment of yaw inertia in Delilah's yummy red Mazda RX8 as she sped to Brett's side, unaware that he was, even then, fleeing the scene.

But at Farouk’s Souk and Pastry Nook, the course of true love ne'er doth run smooth. Given the events of the past year and Joe and Val Wilson's latest desperate plea for privacy via trial-by-media, we thought it only right to bring Brett back from the dead one. more. freaking. time:

Karl Rove to the butterfly kiss of Delilah's hand reaching across the jet black interior of the Mazda RX8; not the kind of treacly sweet butterfly kiss you see little girls give their Daddies but more the sweat-drenched, not-for-prime-time hot butterfly-on-butterfly action you see on the Nature channel late at night when your wife is out of town and the blinds are closed, her buttery soft digits momentarily caressing the gearshift as she retrieved her Moto Q from the glove compartment; "Brett honey?", she purred, almost as soon as her french-manicured fingers had ceased tripping across the keys as artfully as an exotic dancer from the Camelot in Teddy Kennedy's lap, "Those horrid Wilsons...you heard, I suppose...this changes everything!"...

Go check it out, and maybe contribute a good paragraph or two. Of course, if you haven't read the prior stories, you probably won't enjoy this one.