"I guess you are wondering why I gathered you all here at the Brass Knuckle Roadhouse..."
 |
| I put on my best Hercule Poirot voice, but it was more Hercule, than Poirot! |
"I have brought you all here to reveal...the killer of DOA!!!"
The group audibly gasps and there was much murmuring.
"First is the clue of the bloody footprint, that stumped me for a bit, as it was inconsistent with the other evidence. I was further befuddled when it became known to me that the print was made by none other than..."
"Moonchild... I know, I know, he is an anemic Vegan, that couldn't go all Popeye, no matter how much spinach you stuffed him with. But as my friend Sean Pford is fond of saying: 'Though they may refuse to harm a feather or hair on the head of a fluffy or furry, those dudes will CUT A BITCH for the last tofu and kale burger'..."
I paused to let that sink in...
"But the brutal violence of the crime, and the weakness, squeamishness and general wussiness of Moonbeam, lead me to conclude that he stumbled on the crime scene looking for the bathroom to throw up in, panicked and not wanting to get involved with anything that would prolong his presence at a Police station, given his craven nature and hatred of the police, he fled the scene and kept the information of a scene of blood splatter although body free violence, to himself."
[Yes, readers, Moonphase was actually innocent, but of course I was representing him, so even if he HAD been guilty, I wouldn't of implicated the little shit...]
"Next we come to Miss Alice, the only one else with feet small enough to make the print, Short Stack's feet being too wide. We now know that Moonraker made the print... and though I now know that she is strong enough and combat capable enough to have taken out DOA, as she has revealed, she would have disposed of the body so that it was never found, and not used it to make a statement, that could have come back to possibly implicate her. She was also there during the brawl scene with Amadou, when I determined the murder must have happened."
Much murmuring...
"So that also lets Sarge, Short Stack, Rusty, Bob, Ed and Sam off the hook...but it does open the way for MIA to have killed his own brother DOA...That is a standard television and movie trope, the evil twin killing his more noble brother...so it did cross my mind. But DOA wasn't all that noble, and MIA had found his brother very useful as a fall guy for his various activities, plus having talked to the bar wench Katy before y'all arrived, I determined that MIA had an alibi for the time of the killing..."
Murmurs of "So who does that leave?" and "So was it an outside job?"
I paused and took a swig from my mug of beer.
"I realized that the yokel locals, no offense, did not have the treacherous sophistication to pull off a murder of such sophistication and complexity. This is movie villain style, operation, and what makes a great movie villain? As my pal
Joe Wantowrsl likes to say: 'A posh British accent. Only one of you has such an accent, and what else makes a great movie villain? Stroking a cat' and therefore when I noticed white cat hairs on the clothing of one of you...I took particular note!"
I took another swig of beer.
"One of you is not what he or she appears to be..."
I paused to let the impact of what I had to say take effect...
"That individual is..."
"Studd..." The group murmurs, Studd drawls out a "Preposterous, ol' bean, you all know me, I am Texian to the very fiber of my being..." His words belying his fake accent.
I continued: "Studd, or should I say Lt. Commander Humber Stedmann Smoot-Hawley, British MI6 agent,former Royal Seal and supposedly here as part of Interpol's anti-underground fighting force, investigating the link between underground fighting and the terrrorism of the International cabal known as SPECTRE (SPecial Executive for Counterintelligence, Terrorism, Revenge and Extortion), all facts Studd casually revealed to me, as villains always blurt out clues. Studd didn't think I could make anything of this info, but I have a friend in the FBI who played football with me at Duke, who informed me that that is just a cover for his real mission...to secure particularly potent underground steroid and hormone compounds for Queen Elizabeth II, you don't think it is homeopathic quackery that is keeping her so robust and vital, while her son withers like a dried fly husk in a spider's web, do you? Humber is part of a special operation whose mission is to make sure the idiot Prince Charles never sits on the British throne, and that there is an ultimate transition between the beloved Queen and the popular Prince William. They will do anything to prevent Charles's succession, and DOA's body is not the first and the last to die in this operation. One indiscreet person besides myself, knew something of Studd's secret identity, and that person was DOA! Thus the killer is STUDD! "
Gasps and murmurs from the crowd, all but Studd ...
"Very, clever Mule, I knew I should have killed you when I had a chance, but that situation, can be rectified, who is going to stop me? These Keystone cops? Please I am a 00 in Her Majesty's Secret Service... you should have kept your gob shut you barrister wanker, you must not be batting on a full wicket to pull this stunt..."
I hang back and urge the Keystones to "ARREST THE KILLER!" I am a lawyer, so I naturally defer to officers of the law, in handling such police business.
I sipped my beer, and watched the battle unfold...
Their general ineffectiveness reminded me of the diner fight scene from Universal soldier...
Bob and Rusty rushed the British behemoth, it was an unmitigated disaster!
It became a classic movie one vs. many fight with Studd wiping the floor with the Keystones...
Bob was back up and ready to rumble! "Go Bob!" I encouraged!
The Sarge put up a decent fight...
but in the end, went down...
The Boys in Blue are getting decimated. MIA and Miss Alice enter the fray and I hope the reinforcements will help the cause.
Now it was just Your Mule and Studd! A worn down Studd, Your Mule ain't no fool!
I check out Studd. He's a certified alpha male: big, roided, manly as fuck. He isn't modest and is quite proud of his physique. We have a stare down at each other and smirk. It looks like we have found the perfect opponent to test our strength against. We flex our fantastic muscles at each other, showing off our amazing physiques. I thought: "Nice physeek. Studd is really hot, and HE knows it....dammit!!!" But the deluded, cocky, cockney muscle stud actually thinks he is stronger, manlier and hotter than me. This dumb Brit is about to learn that I'm not his ragdoll.
And these lucky local yokel muscle cops are going to have a chance to see how real alpha males fight.
We both growl, then circle. I tense my muscled core, my abs flexing defensively as I quickly fire my deeply tanned, massively muscled right leg up toward Studd's jaw. Studd doesn't have time to react to the approaching foot and it lands full force, the brutal head kick spinning him completely around and nearly sending him tripping over his own feet, but he manages to steady himself. Studd recovers quickly and closes the distance and fires a right cross that slams into my face. My head snaps and sweat sprays from my hair. I hold my ground, though, and fire a right cross back at Studd's left eye.
Studd pulls back his right arm, and fires his left elbow out toward the bridge of my nose, but I show my speed by blocking Studd's arm with my own and instantly smashing my right knee up into Studd's stomach, right above his cock, as I twist my hips into the attack. Studd realized now that my skill level is clearly a step above his other opponents.
Studd grunts as his body is rocked, sweat raining onto the seedy tavern's concrete floor. Studd then reaches forward in an attempt to clamp his hands on either side of my head, but before he can, I grab both of Studd's wrists and use my muscles and reach advantage to slowly open up Studd's mid section, and with a roars I drive my right knee up and into Studd's muscled armored stomach again. The battle has my cock as hard as an lead pipe.
Studd quickly makes some adjustments to his fighting style in recognition of my skill level. Studd steps back, away from me, but I quickly step forward into the hench Brit with a brain-jarring left uppercut to his jaw. Studd moves with the punch but receives a solid hit as he continues to spin around, sending a back fist toward my face. My head snaps back, avoiding the the punch. Then I shift forward and, showing surprising athleticism for a man of my size, I jump high and forward into Studd's body, pulling my right fist back and then sending it flying down toward Studd's left eye, while my right knee simultaneously colliding with Studd's chest. Studd gets hit hard, the two prong attack shoving him back and nearly toppling him
I pivot and get behind Studd, and rope my huge arms underneath the Brit's arm pits and muscle him into a full nelson, my cock grinding into the muscled cheeks of Studd's ass, as I yank Studd up on this tip toes. Nice ass on him! A few more cops are sluggishly recovering now and watching...and appreciating my bravado and the dominant move.
Studd's muscled body, glistening with sweat, is fully exposed and displayed to the spectators for a few seconds, before I shift my lower body and send two powerful knee strikes into Studd's muscled lower back.
The Saxon warrior grunts and peaks all his muscles before dropping his chin to his chest, then fires his head backwards in an effort to break my nose and my hold.
I dodge his attack, then toy with him, torquing the nelson, to shoot pain up into Studd's upper body, then shove him forward. I spin and lift my left leg up to fire a roundhouse kick into Studd's bruised side. . Studd takes the full impact of my kick, but the tough motherfucker still spins around to face me.
Chest to muscled chest with Studd, I bring my two hands up and plant them on either side of Studd's head and send my forehead slamming down into Studd's nose. Studd tries to move his head back, but my hands on his head keeps him close and he gets rocked, sweat flying off him from the impact. Studd now clamps on either side of my head and returns the head butt. My eyes cross from the impact.
"I got to admit this kid is one tuff motherpucker..." I mutter as I clamp my big left paw onto Studd's head and pull back my right fist, but this time Studd out speeds me, again firing his right fist toward my face. I shift and the punch clocks him in the side of the head instead of my still handsome face, but I see stars. I start running thru the concussion protocol from my football playing days. Now I am getting fucking pissed. I shake my head clear, then spit in Studd's face. "You fight like a girl, BITCH!" I scream, then drive my right knee up into Studd's heavily muscled but now reddening stomach. Studd grunts, his six pack badly bruised.
Chest heaving, Studd snorts and spits into my face and then smashes his left fist into my face. My head snaps violently as I am taken off his feet, landing hard on my muscled ass on the concrete floor, my eyes a bit glazed over as I look up at Studd, dumbfounded
"BOOM!…HEADSHOT!" Studd shouts, "Take that you cheese eating surrender monkey, I beat you before, and I can beat you again, you gormlesss tosser," he adds with a grin as I groggily wipe his spit off my face with the back of my hand. Pretty rude, especially the dig at my heritage, but I guess I probably deserved that...
Studd races forward and fires a soccer kick toward my head, but I have recovered quickly enough to bring my arm up to partially block the kick. Instead, the kick hits me in the shoulder with a thud. I quickly scrambles to my feet and step up and into Studd's body, putting my arm between Studd's legs and my shoulder under Studd's crotch, lifting the muscle bound bull-stud up in the air.
As Studd is lifted off the ground, he quickly shifts his weight and half falls and half driven onto his back onto the floor. The air explodes from his lungs. I falls toward him attempting a body slam and land on top of Studd.
Studd grunts loudly as I quickly slide up the big muscled warrior 's slick torso to his knees and mount Studd's chest. Sweat drips down my massive arms and huge pecs onto Studd's huge chest. I can feel that Studd's bull cock is hard as I mount him.
I lift his right arm back to rain down a punch, but Studd again out speeds me, firing his right fist up toward my face, but again I swat Studd's arm away. "You're mine, bitch!" I growl, firing another fist down toward Studd's left eye. Studd, exhausted, begins to move his head but gets solidly punched, more cuts opening around his swelling left eye.
"Fuck you!" Studd snarls, then fires a fist towards my face. His punches are sluggish, lacking the speed he was showing earlier in the fight. I pick Studd's fist out of the air with my right hand, grabbing his wrist and twisting violently to put pressure on his shoulder joint, lifting the muscled fighter's upper body up slightly.
Studd cries out, trying to jerk free.
I let go of Studd's right arm and grab the big muscle bound pretty boy's throat, starting to throttle the fighter as my big muscled thighs press in on Studd's torso, my biceps bulging and peaking as I am determined to hurt and dominate my opponent. Two muscled alphas working out dominance.
Studd's face turns red as he tries to claw at my powerful hands that have a vice like grip around his throat.
Studd prepares to savagely rake his nails down my face, but as Studd brings his right hand up, I lift the fighter's head and neck up off the ground - my biceps and pecs peak and shake with effort — then smashes Studd's head into the floor. As Studd's head bounces off the concrete floor, his arms go limp, crashing to his side, his eyeballs rolling up into his head. The revived spectators explode into a cheer at the fight's final attack.
My bulging muscles are rippling as I breathe heavily. I snorts and sends bloody spit flying down onto Studd's motionless face, smiling at my defeated opponent.
With a sigh, I bring one leg up, then step back, standing over Studd, and put my right foot down on Studd's rock hard throbbing manhood. I mash it into Studd's stomach, as I gives the spectators a double bicep pose.
Studd's eyes snap open and with a grunt of pain and fear, his hands go to his protect his cock but collide with my foot. I look down, smirking.
Studd's huge rock hard bull cock is throbbing as he stares up at me.
A few of the battered, beaten up cops close in around me , slapping my back and congratulating me.
Two of the cops move fast to lift Studd up as he slowly tries to shake his head clear, his eyes glazed over and his head wobbly. All he hears is the crowd congratulating the Mule.
The two cops lift Studd up, one on each side, shoulders under Studd's dripping armpits. walk toward the exit of the tavern dragging Studd's feet as they do. They put him in the squad car and take him to the jail, placing him in the very jail cell that we had our initial fight.
Once he is in the cell, the Medical Examiner checks the fighter's eyes with a small flashlight.
"Well, Mule beat him up pretty good," he says. "But I don't think he has a concussion and I don't think he requires emergency medical care. I'll prepare ice packs for his left eye and stomach and stuff some cotton in his nostrils and mouth."
It was a hard fight, and I had my doubts at times, but I managed to knock the Brit, silly.
In recognition of my apprehension of Studd, Sarge released Moonchild, and after fucking Moonchild's grateful sloot cousins, whose names I have now forgotten, I got the hell out of 'Dodge' and back to Dallas.
The end!
We have a winner of our contest, please contact Mule for details about how to obtain your prize!
If you enjoyed this three-part story, you might enjoy this tale of sleuthing:
Hearty Boys and the Case of the Missing Meatheads
In our next post, our annual Halloween Post, Your Mule fights his most formidable and terrifying opponent to date, in a spooky story we are calling EVIL TWIN...
I paused to let the impact of what I had to say take effect...
"That individual is..."
"Studd..." The group murmurs, Studd drawls out a "Preposterous, ol' bean, you all know me, I am Texian to the very fiber of my being..." His words belying his fake accent.
I continued: "Studd, or should I say Lt. Commander Humber Stedmann Smoot-Hawley, British MI6 agent,former Royal Seal and supposedly here as part of Interpol's anti-underground fighting force, investigating the link between underground fighting and the terrrorism of the International cabal known as SPECTRE (SPecial Executive for Counterintelligence, Terrorism, Revenge and Extortion), all facts Studd casually revealed to me, as villains always blurt out clues. Studd didn't think I could make anything of this info, but I have a friend in the FBI who played football with me at Duke, who informed me that that is just a cover for his real mission...to secure particularly potent underground steroid and hormone compounds for Queen Elizabeth II, you don't think it is homeopathic quackery that is keeping her so robust and vital, while her son withers like a dried fly husk in a spider's web, do you? Humber is part of a special operation whose mission is to make sure the idiot Prince Charles never sits on the British throne, and that there is an ultimate transition between the beloved Queen and the popular Prince William. They will do anything to prevent Charles's succession, and DOA's body is not the first and the last to die in this operation. One indiscreet person besides myself, knew something of Studd's secret identity, and that person was DOA! Thus the killer is STUDD! "
Gasps and murmurs from the crowd, all but Studd ...
"Very, clever Mule, I knew I should have killed you when I had a chance, but that situation, can be rectified, who is going to stop me? These Keystone cops? Please I am a 00 in Her Majesty's Secret Service... you should have kept your gob shut you barrister wanker, you must not be batting on a full wicket to pull this stunt..."
I hang back and urge the Keystones to "ARREST THE KILLER!" I am a lawyer, so I naturally defer to officers of the law, in handling such police business.
 |
| This should be fun, sneered Studd |
I sipped my beer, and watched the battle unfold...
Their general ineffectiveness reminded me of the diner fight scene from Universal soldier...
Bob and Rusty rushed the British behemoth, it was an unmitigated disaster!
 |
| Damn that Englishman hits hard! |
 |
| Get 'em, Sam and Ed, I encouraged. |
It became a classic movie one vs. many fight with Studd wiping the floor with the Keystones...
 |
| The Keystones are being knocked silly! |
 |
| Flower Ranch's finest are getting their asses kicked... |
Bob was back up and ready to rumble! "Go Bob!" I encouraged!
 |
| Studd lands a solid punch to Bob's jaw. |
 |
| Studd's punch really cleaned Bob's clock, he staggered punch drunk for a moment, then dropped, and it was light out for Bob for the next hour! |
The Sarge put up a decent fight...
but in the end, went down...
 |
| That gormless bellend plonker got what he deserved, snorted Studd. |
The Boys in Blue are getting decimated. MIA and Miss Alice enter the fray and I hope the reinforcements will help the cause.
 |
| MIA goes down with one punch... |
 |
| ...and earns the dubious nickname One Punch K.O. d. |
 |
| Miss Alice puts up more of a fight than MIA... |
 |
| She was one tough old broad! |
 |
| She put up more of a fight than any of the Keystones, save Sarge... |
 |
| But eventually she was down... |
 |
| ...and out... |
Now it was just Your Mule and Studd! A worn down Studd, Your Mule ain't no fool!
I check out Studd. He's a certified alpha male: big, roided, manly as fuck. He isn't modest and is quite proud of his physique. We have a stare down at each other and smirk. It looks like we have found the perfect opponent to test our strength against. We flex our fantastic muscles at each other, showing off our amazing physiques. I thought: "Nice physeek. Studd is really hot, and HE knows it....dammit!!!" But the deluded, cocky, cockney muscle stud actually thinks he is stronger, manlier and hotter than me. This dumb Brit is about to learn that I'm not his ragdoll.
And these lucky local yokel muscle cops are going to have a chance to see how real alpha males fight.
The fight has just started and both muscle studs have already landed hits on each other. We are looking fairly equal in power and strength in hand-to-hand combat. But I am counting on me having superior stamina and skill. I am really looking forward to seeing this hench Brit stud being dominated by yours truly.
Studd quickly makes some adjustments to his fighting style in recognition of my skill level. Studd steps back, away from me, but I quickly step forward into the hench Brit with a brain-jarring left uppercut to his jaw. Studd moves with the punch but receives a solid hit as he continues to spin around, sending a back fist toward my face. My head snaps back, avoiding the the punch. Then I shift forward and, showing surprising athleticism for a man of my size, I jump high and forward into Studd's body, pulling my right fist back and then sending it flying down toward Studd's left eye, while my right knee simultaneously colliding with Studd's chest. Studd gets hit hard, the two prong attack shoving him back and nearly toppling him
I pivot and get behind Studd, and rope my huge arms underneath the Brit's arm pits and muscle him into a full nelson, my cock grinding into the muscled cheeks of Studd's ass, as I yank Studd up on this tip toes. Nice ass on him! A few more cops are sluggishly recovering now and watching...and appreciating my bravado and the dominant move.
Studd's muscled body, glistening with sweat, is fully exposed and displayed to the spectators for a few seconds, before I shift my lower body and send two powerful knee strikes into Studd's muscled lower back.
The Saxon warrior grunts and peaks all his muscles before dropping his chin to his chest, then fires his head backwards in an effort to break my nose and my hold.
I dodge his attack, then toy with him, torquing the nelson, to shoot pain up into Studd's upper body, then shove him forward. I spin and lift my left leg up to fire a roundhouse kick into Studd's bruised side. . Studd takes the full impact of my kick, but the tough motherfucker still spins around to face me.
Chest to muscled chest with Studd, I bring my two hands up and plant them on either side of Studd's head and send my forehead slamming down into Studd's nose. Studd tries to move his head back, but my hands on his head keeps him close and he gets rocked, sweat flying off him from the impact. Studd now clamps on either side of my head and returns the head butt. My eyes cross from the impact.
"I got to admit this kid is one tuff motherpucker..." I mutter as I clamp my big left paw onto Studd's head and pull back my right fist, but this time Studd out speeds me, again firing his right fist toward my face. I shift and the punch clocks him in the side of the head instead of my still handsome face, but I see stars. I start running thru the concussion protocol from my football playing days. Now I am getting fucking pissed. I shake my head clear, then spit in Studd's face. "You fight like a girl, BITCH!" I scream, then drive my right knee up into Studd's heavily muscled but now reddening stomach. Studd grunts, his six pack badly bruised.
Chest heaving, Studd snorts and spits into my face and then smashes his left fist into my face. My head snaps violently as I am taken off his feet, landing hard on my muscled ass on the concrete floor, my eyes a bit glazed over as I look up at Studd, dumbfounded
"BOOM!…HEADSHOT!" Studd shouts, "Take that you cheese eating surrender monkey, I beat you before, and I can beat you again, you gormlesss tosser," he adds with a grin as I groggily wipe his spit off my face with the back of my hand. Pretty rude, especially the dig at my heritage, but I guess I probably deserved that...
Studd races forward and fires a soccer kick toward my head, but I have recovered quickly enough to bring my arm up to partially block the kick. Instead, the kick hits me in the shoulder with a thud. I quickly scrambles to my feet and step up and into Studd's body, putting my arm between Studd's legs and my shoulder under Studd's crotch, lifting the muscle bound bull-stud up in the air.
As Studd is lifted off the ground, he quickly shifts his weight and half falls and half driven onto his back onto the floor. The air explodes from his lungs. I falls toward him attempting a body slam and land on top of Studd.
Studd grunts loudly as I quickly slide up the big muscled warrior 's slick torso to his knees and mount Studd's chest. Sweat drips down my massive arms and huge pecs onto Studd's huge chest. I can feel that Studd's bull cock is hard as I mount him.
I lift his right arm back to rain down a punch, but Studd again out speeds me, firing his right fist up toward my face, but again I swat Studd's arm away. "You're mine, bitch!" I growl, firing another fist down toward Studd's left eye. Studd, exhausted, begins to move his head but gets solidly punched, more cuts opening around his swelling left eye.
"Fuck you!" Studd snarls, then fires a fist towards my face. His punches are sluggish, lacking the speed he was showing earlier in the fight. I pick Studd's fist out of the air with my right hand, grabbing his wrist and twisting violently to put pressure on his shoulder joint, lifting the muscled fighter's upper body up slightly.
Studd cries out, trying to jerk free.
I let go of Studd's right arm and grab the big muscle bound pretty boy's throat, starting to throttle the fighter as my big muscled thighs press in on Studd's torso, my biceps bulging and peaking as I am determined to hurt and dominate my opponent. Two muscled alphas working out dominance.
Studd's face turns red as he tries to claw at my powerful hands that have a vice like grip around his throat.
Studd prepares to savagely rake his nails down my face, but as Studd brings his right hand up, I lift the fighter's head and neck up off the ground - my biceps and pecs peak and shake with effort — then smashes Studd's head into the floor. As Studd's head bounces off the concrete floor, his arms go limp, crashing to his side, his eyeballs rolling up into his head. The revived spectators explode into a cheer at the fight's final attack.
My bulging muscles are rippling as I breathe heavily. I snorts and sends bloody spit flying down onto Studd's motionless face, smiling at my defeated opponent.
With a sigh, I bring one leg up, then step back, standing over Studd, and put my right foot down on Studd's rock hard throbbing manhood. I mash it into Studd's stomach, as I gives the spectators a double bicep pose.
Studd's eyes snap open and with a grunt of pain and fear, his hands go to his protect his cock but collide with my foot. I look down, smirking.
Studd's huge rock hard bull cock is throbbing as he stares up at me.
A few of the battered, beaten up cops close in around me , slapping my back and congratulating me.
Two of the cops move fast to lift Studd up as he slowly tries to shake his head clear, his eyes glazed over and his head wobbly. All he hears is the crowd congratulating the Mule.
The two cops lift Studd up, one on each side, shoulders under Studd's dripping armpits. walk toward the exit of the tavern dragging Studd's feet as they do. They put him in the squad car and take him to the jail, placing him in the very jail cell that we had our initial fight.
Once he is in the cell, the Medical Examiner checks the fighter's eyes with a small flashlight.
"Well, Mule beat him up pretty good," he says. "But I don't think he has a concussion and I don't think he requires emergency medical care. I'll prepare ice packs for his left eye and stomach and stuff some cotton in his nostrils and mouth."
In recognition of my apprehension of Studd, Sarge released Moonchild, and after fucking Moonchild's grateful sloot cousins, whose names I have now forgotten, I got the hell out of 'Dodge' and back to Dallas.
The end!
We have a winner of our contest, please contact Mule for details about how to obtain your prize!
If you enjoyed this three-part story, you might enjoy this tale of sleuthing:
Hearty Boys and the Case of the Missing Meatheads
In our next post, our annual Halloween Post, Your Mule fights his most formidable and terrifying opponent to date, in a spooky story we are calling EVIL TWIN...
 |
| Trick or Beat anyone? |
Nice work cracking the case there Hercule-Mule! Ever thought of being a detective as a side-hustle? Or maybe open your own agency, Mule's Muscle Lawyering & Detective Agency as a nice ring to it, I think ;) btw great artwork too, as usual!
ReplyDeleteAWESOME !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteI KNEW it was STUDD. wantowrsl@yahoo.com
ReplyDeleteYes you did, and you are the winner of the contest!!!!!
DeleteGreat, Enrique Nieto Nadal is an awesome artist. How do I claim my prize?
ReplyDeleteCurses! Let down by a hippy--AGAIN!
ReplyDelete