Jim called Sharon up, and within minutes (okay, half an hour so that she could get ready) the two were at the carnival.
"Where should we go first?" asked Jim.
"Oh, let's go to the Fortune Teller's tent first!" she replied. "I just love things like that, even if they aren't real. It's very romantic."
"Oh, yes," replied Jim, "I just love it when some crazy old lady smelling like patchouli tells me that my relationship will last."
"Jim, you're so skeptical! Just you wait, this one will be different!"
Jim rolled his eyes, and was quickly elbowed by Sharon. "Yes, we'd like that," she said.
"Well, then...let's see what the future holds..." she said as she gazed into her crystal ball. Or at the tablecloth. It was hard to tell; she was hunchbacked as well. "I see...two people...I think...yes, I see you two...but you're older, much older...you're looking into the sunset, how romantic...the young man has got a gift...it's blurry...but look how happy she is!"
"Is there any other cliche romantic sappy symbol you'd like to add to your vision?" said Jim.
The gypsy narrowed her eyes, and her good eye gave Jim a piercing glare. "Young man, I respect your opinion of my craft. But it is just that; a craft. There are many people who claim to see the future. Just as not every baker is a chef, not all of them are seers. I suggest that you save your witty remarks to someone else. I will not hesitate to use my magics against you."
"Oh, well gee, I'll believe you can see the future, because you told me that you can, shall I?"
"Fool!" the gypsy shrieked, waving her arms in the air. "Now you've done it! You're gonna get it, Jim, you perverted bastard!" She began to pant rapidly, but she kept waving her arms, despite Sharon's attempts to calm her. The gypsy began to sway wildly, and then fell over, panting for breath. Her hands clawed at the ground, until they began to move slower and slower. She took one last raspy breath, and then closed her eyes.
"Oh my!" Sharon shrieked. "Is she okay?"
"Don't worry," said a voice coming from the other half of the tent, which was separated by a tapestry. A young black man stepped out from behind it. "I'm her apprentice. She tells me I don't have the gift, but she keeps me around as a sort of personal assistant. She'll be find. You guys go enjoy the carnival."
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Thu Jun 01 22:24:30 2006
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