all aboard! all aboard!
the great sad day had finally arrived.
everybody who had a ticket, by hook or by crook, was at the platform.
sad sam jones clutched his suitcase with a savage passion.
daniel boone, disguised as a biologist, watched from the outskirts.
he could not understand what the fuss was all about.
queen blue yearned for a moment of peace and quiet.
the people in the know were nowhere to be seen, or so it seemed.
johnny had given up on frankie and had arrived at the platform without her.
please, sir, can you spare a few dollars?
tolstoy had to laugh - what kind of person showed up at the platform on the sad day looking for change?
but roy rogers did not find it amusing - it filled him with a curious foreboding.
elvis was even more concerned - he knew something was wrong.
profoundly wrong - he slowly, so as not to attract attention, began moving back toward the entrance.
he wanted to get out - out anywhere, any way.
nobody else seemed to have the same idea - it reinforced his resolve.
gosh, gina thought, this crowd is bigger than i expected.
i wish george was here - he would know what to do.
suddenly the voice shouting all aboard! all aboard! stopped and another voice took its place.
you people have all been gamed , the new voice, a silky feminine voice, announced succintly.
this has happened too many times, tolstoy thought. how could i have been such a fool?
let us go!. let us people go! a roar, apparently spontaneous, burst from the crowd.
not very likely, the silky feminine voice laughed heartily.
ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
the roof of the platform blew open.
a violent convulsion swept through the assembled would-be pilgrims.
and it was all understood at last, in an instant.
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