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That *darling* little Sheriff Ron sauntered quietly into the ARSCC Chirmerical
Library while my back was turned, and I was *s-t-r-e-t-c-h-ing* to put a book
back up on a high shelf. I stopped, startled, in mid-stretch when I heard his
melifluous voice behind me say:
>I wrote to the Wall Street Journal Interactive Edition editors
>to ask who the unnamed [signature] was for five of the
>Scientology-related organizations who signed onto the CoS/IRS
>Closing Agreement.
*Shivers* racked up my spine. I was wearing this *really* tight, kind of short
persimmon cashmere sweater, and could feel cool air on my midriff--because of
my stretching, and all--and I just *knew* he could see I was getting
goosebumps. I *un*-stretched and straightened my sweater and turned around
slowly, my eyes downturned behind my very-very-library glasses.
Hiya, Sheriff. Gosh, you--you shouldn't sneak up on a girl that way. Did I
understand you to say that you *wrote* to the Wall Street Journal? (I found my
breath was labored, my voice quavered ever so slightly--the man is so *bold*!)
Did--did you get an *answer*? Is *that* what you're saying, Sheriff? Oh, don't
toy with me. Are you saying that you have some <heaving sigh> HARD FACTS for me?
He grinned that maddening lopsided grin, the lenses of his glasses reflecting
my own, reflecting back *two* of me, my persimmon-cashmere sweater swelling
*four* times, dipping *doubly* dangerously as I leaned forward on my elbows
across the Reference Desk toward him, my persimmon lips parted in
anticipation. Then he nonchalantly tossed a page on the polished mahogany of
the desk. It was from the Wall Street Journal! It said:
>Monique E. Yingling, the church's lawyer, signed as POA (Power
>of Attorney) for CHURCH OF SPIRITUAL TECHNOLOGY, CHURCH OF
>SCIENTOLOGY FLAG SERVICE ORGANIZATION, INC., CHURCH OF
>SCIENTOLOGY WESTERN UNITED STATES, BUILDING MANAGEMENT SERVICES,
>and CHURCH OF SCIENTOLOGY RELIGIOUS TRUST.
I *squealed*! I swear I did! I started jumping *UP* and down, *UP* and down,
twirling 'round and 'round, holding the page up above me, just *gazing* at it
in awe and admiration as the bottom band of my persimmon cashmere sweater just
kept riding up and UP and *UP*! I had to *stop*! I ran around the counter and
just HUGGED that *sweet* Sheriff Ron till I thought he might POP! And I just
kissed him and kissed him and kissed him!
Sheriff Ron, you have *NO* idea what you've done, you sweet, sweet, smart,
bold, terribly clever man! But you *will* find out *all* about it soon, I
*promise*! Can I have this copy? I *CAN*?! Oh, more kisses! Mwah! Smack! Mwah!
(Oh, I'm sorr-r-r-y, sweetie! I got persimmon lipstick all *over* you!)
Okay, I've got to *dash* over to the ARSCC Not-a-FAX, and get this *rushed*
out to--well, *somebody* <wink>. Will you watch--not *that* silly!--will you
watch the *desk* for me for a bit? Gawd! What a *man*! What HARD, HARD, FACTS
you give me!
Toodles, sweetie! And thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!
--<The ARSCC Librarian>
P.S.--(At the door) Sheriff, I think I'm going to have to institute "The ARSCC
Librarian's HARD FACT Awards," and you're going to be the *first* recipient. I
was thinking of maybe a Waterford crystal kind of thingy--you know, sort of
like the one DM gave to Ms. Yingling on that ill-fated night back in '93.
Except, I believe Ms. Yingling's was sort of long and pointy, and that she's
*may* have a warm new place to *put* it soon. So we'll have to think of
something *better.* Hmmm. Well, since it's the HARD FACTS award, how does
something in *titanium* sound to you? Kisses!
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*The ARSCC, like its ever-so-appreciative Librarian, does not exist.