Vol. I: No.7

Editor: Tom Sullivan (supported by your taxes)

Contents

Breakers..................................................................................................

Surf..........................................................................................................

CONTRIBUTIONS (Mrs. Johnson)........................................................

The Bridge (Hauck's Harangue)...............................................................

Waves.....................................................................................................

Breakers: from the diary of Seaweed Sully (in the style of Mark Twain).

The ruckus from the Christmas party had scarcely died down when I learned that there was to be a meet at Patton. It was, in fact, called the Christmas meet and as near as I could figure Cap'n Hauck was behind it. He shanghaied a crew from the ranks of the Patton ABCs and with these began to organize various committees. I reckoned that "ABC's" meant "Always Be Calm," for after Cap'n Hauck told the members all that he wanted them to do they began to sink into chairs and one or two were even stretched out on the floor. The Cap'n wasn't calm, however; the Cap'n was darting around the office so rapidly that the cloud of cigar smoke around his head began to whirl...sort of like a stale tornado. It was then that I made my mistake. In the excitement I stepped across the doorway into the office. Immediately the stale tornado descended on me and a gnarled hand shot out of the smoke, grasping my shoulder. The Cap'ns stern voice proclaimed that by my action I had automatically volunteered for the "S.C." The "S.C."! It was enough to make a body cringe, and cringe I did. I allowed that the "S.C." must be terrible indeed, since all the members of that committee had to be athletically inclined. There was rugged "Atlas" Alice Ceresko and Gary "Gargantua" Gotshcling, not to mention "Mighty" Mark Manrique and a horde of others. We filed up the stairs to the kitchen and took our places on either side of a long table. I heard a voice whisper: "It's the Stapling Committee," and sure enough there was a stapler at the end of the table. Poised with clenched fists above the stapler was a fierce looking Arab, whom I recognized as David "the Sheik" Sahagian. His teeth glittered in a nasty smile as Cap'n Hauck hissed the dreaded "Hut!". and the people on either side of the table began to move toward the Arab, picking up pieces of paper from several piles of sheets on the table. As we neared the end I heard the steady boom-boom-boom as the "Sheiks" fists came down alternately on the stapler, sealing the pieces of paper together. The line moved so fast that a body had to run to keep up with it.