Waving Not Drowning

Round and round and round and round, an amusement ride she can't get off, centrifugal force gluing her body splayed out like roadkill to the carpeted walls of the cylinder. So much force holding her up. Bev tries to pull her head off the wall but she strains her neck with the effort. The 12 year old kid across from her is grinning like a banshee as he rotates himself in a perfect starfish pattern so he is completely upside down. Just wait til this comes to an abrupt stop, she thinks. Then who's laughing? You'll drop flat on your head, wonderboy. Garrison reaches his hand out and grabs Bev's wrist, clawing and scratching like their cat in the kennel on his way to the vet. Get me out of here! he hisses off voice. Bev manages to rotate her face to her left, sees Garrison's eyes wild in panic, his face a perfect shade of chartreuse and sweat pouring off of him in sheets. Bev takes a second to question if it is in fact raining in here. Poor Garrison, wanting to show her ...

Jesus christ woman, I can smell you from here. I don't know what you've been doing but whatever it is you need to take a shower. Or four. Pronto, capiche? You know I love you but seriously, what have you eaten, a dead baby? Holy dinah, darlin' you are not fit for public consumption. Oh! Oh oh oh oh! Put your shoes back on. PUT YOUR SHOES BACK ON! For the love of all that's holy and I include among that our glorious, sacred, if somewhat left of center, occasionally anachronistic union, put 'em back on your feet and then take them off in an airtight, sealed chamber where they shall promptly be incinerated. Can you not smell that? How can you NOT smell that. How can the entire neighbourhood not smell that? It's worse than the worst ridiculously over priced cheese you could imagine. Worse than that runny Belgian cheese you brought home at christmas! Phew. They let you train in those? In a group? You didn't gas the entire class with the stench? Tell me, I'm s...