Halloween is the Deadliest Time of Year
By Pamala Rush

All Disclaimers apply.

	Steve found the key that would unlock the front door of the 
beach house and stuck in into its hole. The doorway was decorated 
with an assortment of Halloween decorations as the holiday was only 
two days away. His father, Mark, had always loved Halloween and, 
therefore, Steve loved the day as well. They always had fun at some 
Halloween party or another, and this year would be no exception.
	He turned the key and walked into the dark house where he 
flipped on a switch to turn on the lights. He glanced up, but didn't pay 
much attention to the form on the couch.
	Jesse Travis lay there covered with blood, his heart hanging 
from a gash in his chest. His eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, and his 
skin had a very pale color. The blood ran down his arm and formed a 
pool on the carpet.
	"Hey, Jesse," Steve said as he stopped at his feet.
	Jesse's eyes twinkled as he lifted his head. "What do you think?" 
he asked.
	Steve pursed his lips for a moment. "Ten," he said.
	"A perfect ten?" Jesse said as he pulled the fake heart from his 
chest and turned to sit on the couch. "Really?"
	"No," Steve said. "I mean you couldn't scare a ten-year-old with 
that get-up." He went on to the kitchen and opened the fridge. He 
looked back out around it and added, "That blood better not stain or 
Dad's going to kill you."
	"Don't worry about it," Jesse said, then he licked some of the 
'blood' from the heart.
	"I hope that stuff is non-toxic," Steve said as he rummaged 
through the fridge.
	"I ought to be," Jesse replied. "It's corn syrup and red food 
coloring."
	Steve snickered at Jesse and went back to his rummaging. Jesse 
joined him at the fridge, heart still in hand.
	"You want a bite?" Jesse asked.
	"What do you think I am," Steve said as he looked at the 
disgusting thing that Jesse held. "A vampire?"
	"It's a gummy heart," Jesse said. "You know, like gummy 
worms? I've got a cousin who sells them."
	"I never liked gummy worms," Steve said as he continued his 
perusal of the fridge. "You've got a cousin who sells everything, don't 
you?"
	"Just about," Jesse said, then took a big bite out of the heart.
	Steve slammed the fridge closed. "I think I just lost my 
appetite," he said as Mark came walking into the room carrying a 
skeleton. "New friend, dad?"
	"Old friend," Mark replied. "Gina says she wants to borrow Mr. 
Bones, here."
	"For the spook house or just for decoration?" Jesse asked.
	"I don't have a clue," Mark replied. "I don't think we want to 
know."
	Gina Raymond was a member of the board at Community 
General Hospital, and she was throwing the annual CG Halloween 
party like she always did. Her parties were always fun.
	"So have you decided yet what you're going to be?" Mark asked 
his son.
	"I haven't the foggiest," Steve replied. "I'll have to see what the 
costume rental place has."
	"You could go as a zombie," Jesse suggested.
	"I don't think so Jesse," Steve replied. "There is never a lack of 
zombies at Gina's parties."
	"What about a vampire?" Mark suggested, then both he and 
Jesse looked him up and down. "Naaaa," They said together.
	"No one would ever believe it," Jesse went on.
	"Every costume shop in town is out of costumes," Mark said as 
he took the heart from Jesse and looked it over before taking a bite out 
of it and handing it back. 
	Steve gave his father a strange look and shook his head. "I 
know," he said. "I have my name on the list at most of them. If no one 
can get me anything, then I'll just have to go as myself."
	"A homicide detective," Mark said.
	"Hey, how about a dead homicide detective," Jesse said. "We 
could put white powder all over your face and....." he stopped at the 
look Steve gave him. "Or not."
	The phone rang at just that minute, and Steve went to answer it. 
"Sloan residence," he said. "You do?.... That's great...... What is it?...... 
Uh, maybe I'd better take a look at it first..... Right.... OK, I'll take it," 
Steve said a bit unwillingly. "I'll be over in a few minutes to pick it up." 
He hung up the phone and looked up at Mark and Jesse who looked at 
him expectantly.
	"So you going to tell us what the costume is?" Mark asked.
	"Not yet," Steve replied. "I may get lucky and they might get 
something better before I get there."

	"Never," Amanda said. "Never wait until the last minute to get 
your costume."
	She stood in the middle of Mark's living room in full costume, 
trying to resist the urge to slug Mark and Jesse as they tried to resist 
the urge to laugh at her costume. Amanda was dressed in a Little Bo 
Peep costume complete with frilly pantaloons, a short lacy skirt, and a 
big pink bonnet. The golden wig's perfect curls stuck out from under 
the bonnet and a shepherd's crook with a big pink bow tied on it 
completed the costume. The crook slipped out of her hands and she 
turned to pick it up, exposing her frilly pink bloomers. Mark and Jesse 
began to snicker but stopped suddenly when Amanda turned around 
and studied each in turn.
	Mark was dressed in the same costume he had dressed in since 
Amanda had known him-- a big colorful clown costume with painted 
face, rainbow wig, and squeaky nose. Jesse on the other hand made a 
pretty good zombie except for the half eaten gummy heart hanging 
from his chest. He also had a big phony kitchen knife sticking out of his 
forehead.
	"You guys really know how to hurt a girl's feelings," Amanda 
said with a shake of her head.
	"That's not so bad," came Steve's voice from the top of the 
stairs. "I'm debating on whether I should actually wear this thing."
	The three friends turned to see that Steve was dressed in a 
Superman costume complete with red tights and cape with a big 'S' on 
it.
	"You look great," Mark said as he walked around his son.
	"I feel ridiculas," Steve replied.
	"You didn't think so when your mom made that one for you," 
Mark said with a smile.
	"I was a kid, dad," Steve said.
	"I like it," Jesse said. "It goes with your eyes."
	Steve could tell that Jesse was trying not to laugh. "That's it," 
he said as he turned and started back down the stairs. "I'm not going."
	Amanda chased after him and caught him by the arm with the 
shepard's crook. "If you're not going in that, I'm not going in this."
	Steve looked at her a minute, then glanced down at her 
costume.
	"You only get one chance a year to look ridiculas," Mark 
reminded his son.
	Steve shook his head. "All right, I'll go. Let me get my jacket."
	"Superman doesn't need a jacket," Jesse commented with a grin.
	Steve gave him a look that would have killed if looks could kill.

	Steve didn't have to worry about looking ridicules at this party. 
There were more super heroes than you could shake a stick at. And as 
expected, every other costume was a zombie. As they entered, Gina 
saw them, waved and came over. She was quite obviously Cinderella, 
but the blonde wig she wore to cover her dark brown hair looked 
horrible.
	"Hello, everyone," she said, then turned to look Steve up and 
down. "Mark if I had known you had such a sexy son...." she left the 
sentence unfinished as the others tried not to laugh at Steve blushing.
	She turned to Jesse. "I like the knife. Nice touch." Amanda was 
next. "Forgot to reserve your costume again I see." Amanda shrugged. 
"Looks good on you," Gina finished with a smile. "Mark, don't you 
ever get tired of being a clown?"
	"I figure I'm a clown anyway," Mark said. "I might as well look 
the part."
	This brought a bit of laughter from the group as Gina told them 
to have a nice time and left them to do their mingling.

	The seventh pinch to Steve's rear end almost made him decide 
to go home. Other things made him decide not to, like Gina discreetly 
coming to him to ask him for his help. Steve's curiosity made him 
follow her into the mansion's library.
	A body lay on the floor in a pool of blood. Amanda was already 
there doing an examination of the corpse. Steve knelt down next to it, 
dipped one finger into the blood, sniffed it and decided that it was real. 
He looked up at Amanda, who had shed the bonnet, wig and crook.
	"Who is it?" Steve asked.
	"Gerrold Loomis," Gina replied. "He was one of the older 
members of CG's board. One of the richest, too."
	"What happened?"
	"He was shot," Amanda said. "That much I know."
	"How long has he been here?"
	Amanda shook her head. "I won't know until I do an autopsy."
	"Dozens of people have been through here," Gina said. "No one 
noticed because they all thought it was part of the party decorations."
	Steve shook his head. "Let's try to keep this quiet for now," he 
told Gina. "I don't want to frighten anyone. We'll take him through the 
side entrance."
	Gina nodded. "Do you want me to alert Mark and Jesse?"
	"I'll do it," Steve replied as he stood up. 
	He stood there for a couple of seconds before Amanda asked 
him what was wrong. "Nothing," Steve replied. "I'm just preparing 
myself to go back out there." He rubbed his butt where the majority of 
the pinchings had been located. Amanda tried not to laugh.
	Mark was fairly easy to find, and he joined Amanda in the 
library. Jesse on the other hand was a lot harder to find. Steve must 
have seen about a dozen zombies before he found the right one. 
Somewhere during the party, Jesse had finished off his heart and taken 
the knife out of his head. Now he looked like every other zombie. But 
he was eager to help solve the murder.
	Mark was leaning down over the body. He made a bit of a sight, 
a clown leaning over Dick Tracy, but he was serious even with his 
strange get-up.
	"Now we get to play Clue," Steve commented as he stood over 
the body. "Find out whether it was Mr. White or Miss Scarlett in the 
library with the revolver."

	Superman could see through walls and leap tall buildings in a 
single bound, but Steve had to go into a room to find out what was 
inside. He was looking for Debbie Loomis, Gerrold's daughter. When 
he finally found her, he almost wished he hadn't.
	She was in an upstairs closet making out with someone who 
Steve didn't know. She looked at Steve, looked back at her makeout 
partner, then kissed him one last time before shooing him out of the 
closet. She joined Steve in the hall with a yawn. "Nice costume," she 
said.
	Steve glanced down at himself. "I need to talk to you about 
your father."
	"If he sent you," she said as she twirled the tail of her black cat 
costume. "You can tell him I don't want to talk to him ever again."
	"That shouldn't be too hard," Steve told her. "He's dead."
	Debbie looked at him, puzzled. "Are you sure? I mean I just 
saw him about an hour and a half ago. He was fine then."
	"Someone shot him," Steve told her. "He's been murdered."
	Debbie's hands shot over her mouth in shock, then she looked 
back up at Steve. "You think I did it, don't you?"
	Steve shook his head. "I didn't say that," he told her. "I'm just 
talking to a few people who might have wanted him dead." Debbie 
nodded, so Steve went on. "Gina is pretty well up on her hospital 
gossip. She told me that your father was going to write you out of his 
will."
	"Not true," Debbie said then went on a little hostililly. "He was 
going to change it so that his new wife got a portion."
	"I take it you don't like the new wife," Steve said.
	"You kidding?" Debbie said. "She is a gold digger. My old 
daddy with that child!? She's only a year older than I am!"
	Steve nodded. "So then you think she might have done it?"
	Debbie nodded. "She sure is capable of it." She paused. "Then 
again, so is Atlanta."
	"Atlanta?"
	Debbie nodded. "*Aunt* Atlanta is dad's sister. She lost a 
fortune in Vegas last year." She moved close and lowered her voice. 
"She's got a little problem."
	Steve nodded in understanding.
	"I think dad was going to leave her a trust, but I don't know if 
he did or not," Debbie went on.
	Steve nodded. "Do you bby chance own a gun?" he asked.
	"One gun that I never use," Debbie responded. "Guns give me 
the creeps."
	"Then why do you own it?"
	"My father bought it for me when my apartment was broken 
into a couple of years ago," she replied. "He said he wanted me to be 
able to protect myself. Enrolling in self defense classes would have 
made me feel a lot better than that gun has. Like he cared anyway."
	"Thanks for the information," Steve said. "I've got to...."
	"...Fly out of here?" Debbie finished. "You want me to stay 
available for further chats and stuff, right?"
	Steve gave her a look and headed back down the hall, getting a 
pinch from a lady standing by the head of the stairs. He jumped, rubbed 
his butt, smiled politely at the woman then headed down the stairs.

	Jesse pushed his way between several zombies and a tall 
dalamation as they danced to the band playing in the ballroom. The 
band on the short stage was costumed as well, and Jesse stopped to 
listen to them before moving on. The lead singer of the band was 
dressed as a vampire in a tight black dress cut down to her belly button, 
her ample cleavage clearly visible. She smiled at him past the 
fake-looking black wig and he went on, leaving her singing on the 
stage.
	He pushed past several other costumed guests before he found 
the guest he was looking for. Myra Loomis was dressed up in a teddy 
bear costume and she had a doll tucked under one arm.
	"Mrs. Loomis," Jesse said loudly. "Could I talk to you for a 
minute?"
	Myra looked over at him with her pretty teddy-bear eyes and 
nodded. "Great party, huh?" she hollared at him.
	"Yeah," Jesse hollared back. "Could we go somewhere a little 
more quiet?"
	"Sure," she yelled back. "Let's go into the bathroom. I need to 
re-do my whiskers."
	Jesse followed her away and into the bathroom where she 
dropped the doll next to the sink. 
	"When's the last time you saw your husband?" he asked once 
they got to the quieter environment.
	Myra pulled a bag out from under the doll's dress and began to 
touch up her whiskers. "About an hour ago," she said. "Why?"
	"Because he's dead," Jesse replied. "Murdered."
	Myra wrinkled her face. "That is not a very funny joke. I know 
people play pranks on Halloween, but..."
	"This is not a prank," Jesse interrupted. "Your husband has 
been murdered."
	Myra's jaw dropped and her knees buckled. Jesse stepped 
forward to catch her before she hit the floor. He helped her sit down in 
a nearby chair.
	"Do you know who did it?" she asked, almost too calmly.
	Jesse shook his head. "We're trying to find that out before 
anyone leaves the party."
	"Let me guess," she said when she looked up at him. "You think 
I did it."
	"You're a suspect, yes," Jesse told her. "We're investigating."
	"Investigating me!" Myra exclaimed as she stood.
	"No, we're investigating anyone who had a motive," Jesse said. 
"Calm down. I'm supposed to ask you a couple of questions."
	"I did not kill my husband," she said as she sat back down.
	"I'm trying to prove that," Jesse said. "Now can I ask my 
questions?"
	Myra swallowed any further protests and looked at the floor.
	"Gina told me that Mr. Loomis had been pretty much ignoring 
you for awhile," he began.
	Myra snorted. "Ignoring is hardly the word I would use. He's 
having libitinous escapades with his secratary."
	"An affair?"
	"That's what they call it."
	"You know this for a fact?"
	"I haven't found any solid proof, but he comes home late and 
takes her on business trips with him," Myra said.
	"You don't think it has to do with work?"
	"He _used_ to take _me_ with him."
	Jesse nodded. "What about his will?" he asked. "Did he write 
you into it?"
	"Only to appease me," she said. "I confronted him about the 
affair, and he said that there was none, but I threatened to divorce him 
and sue him for a lot of alimony. That's when he changed his will, but 
all I get is the house."
	"That's it?"
	"That's it," Myra said. "Next question."
	"Do you own a gun?"
	"I own several guns," she said. "I like to shoot them off at the 
range."
	"I think that's it," Jesse said. "Thanks for your time, and I think 
you'd better stick around in case Detective Sloan wants to talk to you."
	"I'll stick around," Myra said. "But I can't promise that I'll have 
a good time."

	Atlanta was taking a long drink from a tall glass of wine when 
Mark found her. She noticed him and held her finger up so she could 
finish chugging the wine, so Mark looked at her costume as he waited.
	The tiny woman was dressed in a short see-through dress that 
was decorated with sparkles and had wings on the back. She had a 
wand tucked under one arm and there was glitter everywhere.
	Finally, she drained the glass and set it aside. Mark could tell 
she was already three sheets to the wind. "You _do_ have a ride home 
don't you?" he asked.
	She nodded drunkenly. "My brother is supposed to... to... 
something...."
	"Drive you home?"
	She snapped her fingers. "That's it!"
	"I'm afraid you will have to make other arrangements," Mark 
said. "Your brother's dead."
	She looked surprised. "You're joking," she started. "Ahhhh. 
Very funny Dr. Sloan. Funny prank."
	"It's not a prank," Mark said. "Gerrold has been murdered."
	Atlanta squinted at him, then her face melted into surprise and 
she passed out in his arms.

	Mark and Jesse were in a small office on the second floor of the 
mansion, waiting for Steve and Amanda to return from their tasks. 
Steve finally arrived and they reported to each other what the line of 
questioning had brought. Steve also reported one other interesting fact.
	"They found the murder weapon," he said as he handed Mark 
the plastic bag with the gun in it.
	"Who does it belong to?" Mark asked.
	"They're still checking the registration," Steve reported.
	"They find any prints?"
	"Yes," was Steve's reply. "They're running them."
	"How'd they kill him with no one hearing?" Jesse asked.
	"It's so noisy out in the main party that anyone who heard must 
have thought it was a car backfiring," Steve replied as Amanda joined 
them, her hat, wig and sheperd's crook still noticably absent.
	"He had been dead for a little less than an hour when someone 
finally noticed him," Amanda reported. "He died of a gunshot wound to 
the heart." She tossed the fille she carried on the desk. "Next time I'm 
going home to change before I do an autopsy. I feel ridiculas in this 
getup."
	"No more ridiculas in that than I feel investigating a murder in 
this," Steve said gesturing down at his Superman costume. "I think I 
have a bruise on my butt."
	Mark snickered a moment before he spoke. "All three suspects 
have motives," he said. "Atlanta passed out before I could ask her 
anything, but Gina says that Gerrold cut her off when she wouldn't quit 
gambling.."
	"And Myra said that he was having an affair with his secretary," 
Jesse put in.
	"His daughter was kind of angry at him for putting his current 
wife in the will," Steve said.
	"Myra said that all he left her was the house," Jesse pointed out.
	"He left her a lot more than the house," Steve said. "I checked 
the will. She gets his stocks as well. They're worth more than ten 
million dollars."
	Mark whistled. "What about Atlanta?"
	"He set up a trust for her, but she can't touch it," Steve 
explained. "Not even the intrest. He set it up so that her bills are paid, 
and she has to get her lawyer to go with her when she goes 
shopping...."
	Gina burst into the room breathless and just a little panicked. 
"My party is ruined!"
	"What's wrong now?" Mark asked.
	"Atlanta hung herself," Gina reported. "In the dining room. 
People think it's part of the spook house."
	Mark shook his head and followed Gina out of the room, Steve, 
Jesse and Amanda close behind.

	They looked up at Atlanta's dead body as it hung from the 
chandelier. A chair lay tipped over at her feet and she still smelled 
heavily of alcohol. People were moving past it and commenting how 
real the body looked. 'It ought to look real,' Mark thought. 'It is real.'
	Gina closed the doors at one end then began shooing people out 
the other end until the room was empty except for Mark and the others. 
Slowly Steve lowered Atlanta's body until she lay  on the floor then 
Amanda got down on one side to examine the body. Her initial exam 
proved to be interesting.
	"Her neck is broken," Amanda announced.
	Steve looked at her. "That chair isn't high enough to have done 
that," he said.
	"No it isn't," Mark replied. "Look at her face."
	Atlanta had three narrow marks on her cheek and signs of 
having had a bloody nose.
	It wouldn't be hard for even a small person to break Atlanta's 
neck. She was barely five feet tall, and very thin. Mark doubted that she 
weighed much more than 100 pounds.
	"Looks like finger marks," Jesse commented.
	"I think it is," Amanda said as she looked more closely at the 
marks.
	"If it is," Mark began. "Then somebody murdered her as well."

	"I need to know where you have been the last half hour since 
we last spoke," Steve was saying to Debbie.
	"I danced, I ate," she said. "I was merry. Anything else?" She 
took another sip of her punch as she stood in the ballroom next to the 
food table.
	"Exactly where you were," Steve said. "It's important."
	Debbie looked exasperated. "I don't know," she said. "Where 
have you been?"
	Steve shook his head. "Look, your aunt has come up dead now. 
Can you help me find out what happened?"
	"Atlanta? What happened?"
	"She was found hanging from the chandelier in the dining 
room," Steve explained. "She was murdered."
	"I actually liked her," Debbie said. "And I was with the guy you 
interrupted me with last time we spoke. Doing the same thing. In the 
kitchen pantry."
	Steve shook his head again. "Did anyone see you?"
	"Everyone in the kitchen saw us go into the pantry," she replied. 
"I had to came out for a drink." She held up her glass.
	"Had to come up for air, huh," Steve said. "I'll be sure to ask 
around and corroberate your story."
	"Good for you," Debbie replied she started to walk away then 
turned back. "You black and blue yet?"
	Steve smiled slightly at her. "Not yet."

	"Mrs. Loomis," Mark said as he approached the woman in the 
teddy bear costume. "Could I talk to you?"
	Myra shrugged. "Why not? What's up?"
	"Your sister-in-law Atlanta," Mark replied. "At least she was. 
Hanging from the chandelier in the dining room."
	"She killed herself?" Myra asked with surprise.
	"No, it looks like she may have been murdered," he replied. 
"Where have you been the past half hour since you spoke to Dr. 
Travis?"
	"Here and there," she replied. "I couldn't tell you exactly."
	"I need to know exactly," Mark told her.
	"In the ball room dancing most of the time," she said.
	"Did you know where Atlanta was before that?"
	"Probably passed out somewhere," Myra said. "She started 
drinking almost as soon as she got here and it didn't look like she was 
planning on stopping any time soon."
	"What about Debbie?"
	"She was off making out with some guy from what I heard," 
Myra stated.
	Mark looked thoughtful. "Did you happen to bring a gun with 
you to the party?"
	Myra looked incredulas. "Why would I do that?"
	"No reason," Mark replied. "Thanks for your time."
	"Whatever," she said as she started to turn back to the party.
	Mark tapped her on the shoulder and she turned back to him. 
"Jesse said that you had a doll with you. What happened to it?"
	Myra looked under her arm and looked at Mark. "I have no 
idea," she said. "Why?"
	"Just wondering," Mark said and walked away.

	"I got the results back on the gun," Steve said as he handed 
Mark the file. "It was registered to Debbie Loomis."
	They were back in the quiet second floor office discussing the 
details of the case as the clock struck the half hour.... 11:30 p.m.
	"You think she killed her father?" Mark asked.
	"It's possible, but Atlanta's prints were on the gun." Steve 
replied.
	"What do you think happened?" Jesse asked, trying to look over 
Mark's shoulder.
	"Maybe Debbie had Atlanta bring the gun to the party, then 
shot her father," Steve said. "Then she killed Atlanta because it means 
she gets more money now."
	"Or maybe Atlanta killed Gerrold and Debbie found out and 
killed her," Jesse put in.
	"Or maybe you're both wrong," Mark said with a smile. "We 
need to find a doll."
	Steve and Jesse both looked at Mark with puzzled expressions. 
	"One or both of you had it partly right," Mark explained. "You 
just had the wrong person."
	Something clicked for Jesse. "I get it, the doll!"

	Myra entered the quiet office where Debbie had asked her to 
meet her. A couple of minutes passed before Debbie joined her, holding 
the doll Myra had been carrying earlier in the evening.
	"I think this is yours," Debbie said as she held it up.
	"Where did you get that?" Myra said as she tried to grab it 
away.
	"I found it out back in the trash," Debbie replied as she jerked it 
out of Myra's reach. Debbie shook her head tsking. "Dr. Sloan told me 
that Atlanta had a bloody nose when she was killed. I wonder where 
the blood on this doll's dress came from?"
	"I cut myself, OK?" Myra said as she reached for the doll again. 
"Now give it to me."
	Debbie jerked it back again. "I don't think so. This is evidence 
in a murder investigation, and I'm sure that Steve Sloan would like to 
get his hands on it."
	"What do you want?"
	"The house," Debbie replied. "I'd feel safer living there."
	"Fine," Myra said. "Just give it to me!"
	"And....," Debbie said keeping the doll out of reach. "The 
stocks."
	"Are you crazy? After all I did to get them?"
	"I should be thanking you anyway," Debbie went on. "Thanks 
to you, I get Atlana's share of the money as well."
	"You greedy little bitch!" Myra screamed. "I had Atlanta kill 
your father and if she had had half the guts you have, I wouldn't have 
had to kill her either!" She pulled a gun from the folds of the bear 
costume. "If I have to kill you to get what I deserve...."
	"What you deserve is to spend the rest of your life in jail," Steve 
said from the doorway behind Myra.
	Myra gasped, turned the gun towards Steve and fired. Steve 
lept out of the way just as the bullet grazed past his arm. Debbie 
tackled her step-mother, knocking the gun from her hand and pinning 
her to the floor. Steve picked up the gun and stood over her as Debbie 
kept her pinned.
	"You are under arrest for the murders of Gerrold and Atlanta 
Loomis," he said as the clock began to strike midnight.
	"You want to give me your cuffs so I can cuff her?" Debbie 
offered.
	"Where would I keep a set of cuffs?" Steve asked gesturing 
down to the Superman suit he still wore.

	Mark watched as Steve, still clad in the Superman costume, put 
Myra Loomis in the back of the patrol car. Steve joined his father and 
they both watched as it pulled away. Not having any pockets to shove 
his hands in, Steve crossed his arms over his chest. Mark noticed the 
tear that the bullet had caused and stuck his fingers in it to point it out 
to Steve.
	"Great," Steve said. "There goes my deposit."
	"Look at the bright side, Steve," Mark said. "At least being the 
man of steel, you couldn't get hurt any worse than the bruises on your 
butt."
	Steve looked at Mark very seriously for a moment before he 
started laughing and slapped his father on the back. Mark joined him in 
laughter as they turned and rejoined the party in the wee hours of 
November first.