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| | Michael Bérubé |
 | | Anyway, next thing we know, there’s an utterly bizarre spacecraft floating through the void, a kind of elongated spine with a big antenna in the middle and an eerie knob on one end, with a kind of fl visor and three round ports, looking like a Face that is No Face. |
 | | Fully extending his right leg (for those of you keeping score at home, that would be the limb furthest from the shot, a limb whose extension was not at all necessary to stop the puck), he neatly sent me flying through the air to the left side of the net and into the boards. |
 | | There are many to choose from in The Phantom Tollbooth, but you may choose another text if you so desire. |
| www.michaelberube.com (4253 words) |
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