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The more I think about it, dear, the more I worry: maybe a relationship based solely on a mutual fascination with dinosaurs is doomed to fail. Maybe the first meteorite that comes along will raise up clouds of dust and kill the vegetation that feeds our shared interest, and our romance will go extinct.
The Inspector wouldn't be caught crying, not in front of his men. So when he felt the menacing of a flood of angry tears threatening to burst out, and saw he was surrounded at the station, he could think of little else to do but to grab the first liquid he could see and to throw it in his own face.
It didn't matter whose pineapple juice it had been. It burned the Inspector's eyes. The subordinate detectives and secretaries were too startled to speak, and frozen with curiosity at the sight of their superior's own indecisive, dripping face and red eyes as though he had been crying.
The latest bout of gastrointestinal distress had left the expedition's guide in an awkward situation. He hated to admit to his wealthy clients that the water here still made him sick, hated the very thought of lacking in intestinal fortitude-- and yet, if he didn't pull the jeep over soon, there would be far greater problems than wounded pride.
One step forward, two steps back. One step forward, turn around and run as fast as you can. I hate this game, and I wish I didn't have this pack of hyenas in my house.
The grocery store lights cast a soul-crushing artificial pallor on the aisles and the clientele. Some shoppers were lost, and had been for hours, having forgotten why they had come, or how to get out. Meanwhile, young Whit was following people around and placing odd items in their baskets while they weren't looking. He vaguely wondered what would happen if he were caught, but generally did not intend to be.
