Barney Belly said, "I like presents. Speclly fud present. Oh, whiskey too. Fud. That's what I like in present, see? Past? Cain't hardly 'member that mess. Too much of it. Big ol' mess of it. Shoot, you stort ta messin' with that mess, the dadgum storvin' gonna jump right on yore doorstep what it'll do. You ain't got no door? It'll come right in, set down at the Fudin' Table. Seen it happen. Turrble."

CHAPTER ONE

I bought a tape recorder at the Dollar General in downtown Corsicana. I also bought a fruit cake. I then rented a car at Enterprise. I asked for directions to Dime Box. No one knew how to get there. I left town and drove south. I am right now lost.

Finally, on Texas Farm Road 397 I spotted a sign that said 'Dime Box, 22 miles or thereabouts'. I followed the road for 27 miles and saw another sign. It said 'Dime Box, Population 643 or thereabouts'.

CHAPTER TWO

I was hungry. A double-wide trailer with a sign in front that said 'B6 - A Place Where You Can Eat All Day and Be Proud of It.' I went in and ordered a plate for one. The waitress made five trips to get all the food on the table.

It took about 90 minutes of hard walking up and down Main Street before my stomach didn't feel like it was about to explode. At that point I decided to attempt my first Belly interview. It was a female Belly who identified herself as Bertha Mae. She was just walking out of the Curly Q Beauty Parler when I politely asked her if I could ask her a few questions. She said she could give me five minutes because she had to get home to fix her husband a just after lunch but just before mid-afternoon snack snack. Q & A Session I follows:

Q: How long have you been a Belly?

A: Oh, since I done the breedin' deal with Donnie Bob. He's Belly, see. That there was in '67. Now, you take away them time I busted the bottle. Reckon that'd be four, five month. Whatever that amounts to, that's how long I been Belly.

Q: What do you like about being a Belly?

A: Oh, mostly everthang. It's real nice here. I tell you somethin' most any woman would notice real quick. They ain't never no left-overs - mess you got to squeeze into the ice box. Ain't never nobody late for dinner neither, nor any of them other meals. I guess we take it for granted, but you go without such as that for a while, it'd be purely intolerable.

Q: What do you dislike about being a Belly?

A: Oh, most everthang. At times, anyway. Too much is sometimes too dadgum much.

Q: Have you ever regretted being a Belly?

A: Goodness yes. Worst possible way to live on earth, except for all them others. I cain't imagine livin' any way other than the Belly Way. One of my favorite thangs 'bout it, though, is Belly is always lookin' for new Belly Ways and bitchin' 'bout other Belly Ways. I'm real good at that.

Q: How many hours a day do you spend cooking?

A: That varies. You start out with 24. Take away them that Donnie Bob's in the kitchen cookin' somethin', and the time when I'm sleepin' and he ain't woke me up with his fudin', and there's yore nummer. Right smart, but I'll take off from it anytime I want to. Donnie Bob ain't gonna let no meal go un-made. If I ain't there to cook it, he'll cook it. If I ain't cooked enough, he'll cook more. You'd be surprised how often I flat guess wrong 'bout what them Bellys is gonna fud. They full a surprises.

CHAPTER THREE

Leaving Bertha Mae, I walked across the street to the Dime Box Bank. For some reason (it was later revealed to me) there was a picture of Mickey Mouse on the front window. I asked to talk to one of the loan officers. His name was I.P. Bach. He had moved to Dime Box after graduating with a B. A. in Agricultural Finance from Texas A & M. After moving here he had married a Jetson, who were first cousins of the Bellys and lived primarily in North Dime Box, a suburb of Dime Box.

Q: How do the Belly conduct their financial affairs?

A: Oh, it varies. Believe it or not, there are some Bellys who shun banks. Shocking. But then, most are completely comfortable with our institution.

Q: Do the Bellys invest in the Stock Market? A: All Bellys trade stock. Swine, cattle, some goats. They're shrewd traders. As for financial instruments, you don't see much Belly interest.

Q: Why is Mickey Mouse on the front window of the bank?

A: That's an accomodation to local citizens who have a deep appreciation for Mickey Mouse lunch boxes. Some even carry their money in the boxes, as odd as that seems. We always try to keep out customers satisfied.

Q: Do any of the Bellys ever declare bankruptcy?

A: I've never heard of it. They may ignore their debts for some time, or overlook them, but no one around here is going to press a Belly. They control almost all the property in this area, so doing business with them is quite important. Besides, a pressed Belly can become a rather upset Belly. No one wants that.

Q: How is the bank doing?

A: You wouldn't believe it. No one in banking has returns like us. Thank goodness we're the only one in town. Others have tried, but Dime Boxers are very loyal to their chosen bank, even if they don't deal with us. That's just how Dime Boxers are.

CHAPTER FOUR

At the end of the interview, I thanked Mr. Bach, and asked if I could use the facilities. He said sure, just go out the back door and the outhouse is ten feet back and to the left. I wasn't surprised because I had done extensive research before coming to Dime Box. It was one of the last refuges of BOM (Back Out Movement), an organization that promoted the ethics of outhousing. I've decided that should be my next stop so I walked over to Aggie Avenue (appropriately enough a back street) where the central office of BOM is located. There I was able to meet and interview Tomjam Eyskin, current president and CEO of BOM.

Q: You're rather young to be in charge of such a big organization. How did you attain such an eminent position?

A: Nepotism. Nepotistic merit, that is.

Q: Isn't the evil genius, Mosath Eyskin, your older brother? What's he been up to lately?

A: Yes, and I don't know. He doesn't write often, with anything I can understand.

Q: I understand BOM has some policy disagreements with a Mr. Donnie Bob Belly, aka Deep Belly, aka DB. Are you currently negotiating with Mr. Belly to resolve these differences?

A: "Negotiation" isn't the word you're looking for. Mr. Belly is a devoted unilateralist.

Q: How are BOM chapters doing across the country? Is membership growing?

A: Our members are growing. I dare say we have the largest members of any organization in the world. It's true that the number of our members hasn't been growing as rapidly as we'd like, but we're still a large body.

Q: What is the future of BOM?

A: Much like our past, most likely. That's what history suggests. We don't know a lot about our past, since no one took good notes. So, we're all looking forward to some surprises.

CHAPTER FIVE

It was five o'clock and I was ready for a break. I wasn't hungry. It would probably take three days before that would happen. I was, however, thirsty, so I sauntered over to the local tavern, The Fat Cow. It was dark and cool inside, and empty. I asked the bartender where everybody was and he said the B6 was having the Dime Box version of Happy Hour, but in Dime Box it was All You Can Eat Hour. I nodded understanding. I ordered a Shiner and sat back in the booth. The bartender was obviously lonely and in a talkative mood, so even though I was exhausted, I decided my job came first.

Q: Tell me about Belly drinking habits.

A: Hearty.

Q: Do Bellys ever let drinking interfere with their food rituals?

A: No more than breathing.

Q: Have you ever known an alcoholic Belly?

A: You'd think so, looking at their consumption. Yet, you'd be hard pressed to find ways that they're more erratic while drinking than they are sober.

Q: Do you sell Old Milwaukee?

A: Oh yes. Mainly for ceremonial use, but we always carry it.

Q: Is it true some Bellys drink Dr. Pepper?

A: All of them. It's required.

CHAPTER SIX

I finished my third Shiner and then ambled out into the gathering dusk. The western horizon was ablazed with different hues of red, purple, and yellow.The wind picked up and a ball of loco weed came tumbling down Main Street. I sidestepped to my right and the loco weed went rolling past. I was still feeling the effects of the large lunch from six hours earlier so I decided another long walk was in order. I started walking and before I knew it I was about two miles out of town. I came upon what could only be described as a shack. A decrepit man sitting in a decrepit rocking chair waved feebly at me. I said hello and asked to whom I was speaking. He identified himself as Alexander St. Taw, professor emiritus of Natural Movements at UC-Berkeley. I didn't really believe him, but believing or not believing was not my job. Asking questions was.

Q: What's been your experience with the Bellys?

A: Interesting. Sometimes frustrating.

Q: Any particular Bellys stand out?

A: Donnie Bob is probably the most interesting. And then, maybe he's just the most interesting huge one. He's impossible to miss.

Q: How do you explain the cultural significance of the Bellys?

A: They're oblivious to other cultural forces, so naturally, they influence them. They're very active.

Q: What attributes have you found in the Bellys that make them successful?

A: Complete focus on their tribal priorities.

Q: Will Belly superstitions finally do them in?

A: No. The rituals are secondary to the primary mission, which is not being done in.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I made it back to the Dimeboxer Deluxe Hotel a little after ten. The shower wasn't working so I collapsed into the bed, hot, sweaty, and dusty, but not caring. I felt better the next morning and after a baby plate breakfast I headed over to Ted Kennedy Campaign Headquarters. Luckily, Teddy was in.

Q: You're rich, yet you picked Dime Box to be your Campaign HQ. How come?

A: This is a wonderful place. I can be myself here, and hardly anyone notices. I find it liberating.

Q: Is it true that you like the waitresses at the B6s?

A: I've long supported a woman's right to choose. Women who choose to speak with me are particularly close to my heart. Dime Box women are very friendly.

Q: Is it true you only come to Dime Box when the rivers are dry?

A: Dry or running. Those are my criteria.

Q: Is it true that you once beat a Belly in an eating contest?

A: Well, yes. I had the advantage of better calculating skills. The chap lost count after ten. A bit of a fluke, you might say.

Q: Do you plan to retire here?

A: I would like to have a home here. We've been talking with Dime Boxers about that.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Leaving Teddy, I wandered down Main Street to the local gas station. I had to blink twice, because I thought I saw none other than Bob Dylan, the famous singer/songwriter, pumping gas into a silver Lambiguini. Intrepid journalist that I am, I walked straight up to the great man himself and started talking to him like I'd known him all my life. Turns out he was on a nostalgic trip back to Dime Box. He had spent six months here back in 1959, washing dishes at the B6 and writing songs. The folks could never remember his last name of Zimmerman so they started calling him Bobby Dwayne, which they later shortened to Bobby D. Since this was one of those once in a lifetime opportunities, I decided to be bold and ask a few more questions.

Q: How did you finally wind up with the name Dylan?

A: I don't remember. That was a long time ago.

Q: Were there many bums in Dime Box in their prime to whom you threw a dime?

A: None.

Q: Do you remember Deep Belly and how did you and him get along?

A: I remember him, but I don't think he remembers me.

Q: How did you like the Belly girls?

A: They were great. I don't know about the current ones.

Q: What songs were you inspired to write while you were in Dime Box?

A: More than one.

CHAPTER NINE

After a few questions, Bob suddenly remembered he had a gig in Austin that night, jumped in his car and took off. Feeling rejuvenated (or was that like a rolling stone?) I moseyed over to an establishment on Longhorn St. called 'Jaguar's Dirt & More Dirt'. When I walked in I was greeted by a well-spoken, very attactive blonde named Buffy Campbell Jetson. When we started talking, a burly, heavy-set young man stepped out of the back. He was wearing coveralls and carrying a shovel on his shoulder. His name was Jaguar Jetson, co-owner of the business and Buffy's husband.

Q: When did you start this business and what is its purpose?

A: Here while back. Dirt. We do dirt.

Q: How is business?

A: Pilin' up right smart.

Q: Why is there a quart bottle of Old Milwaukee on the shelf?

A: That's from our last breedin' deal.

Q: Do you like living in Dime Box?

A: Right smart.

Q: Since you are so good at digging, have you considered archaeology as a profession?

A: Sometimes. Not right smart, though.

CHAPTER TEN

It had been an eventful morning. Saying goodbye to Buffy and Jaguar, I went back to The Fat Cow for some liquid refreshment. This time the place was hopping. The owner had advertised a free hot dog with every beer and the joint was packed, toe to toe and Belly to Belly. All the booths were filled so I sat at the bar where I made the acquaintance of a Mr. Buford Belly, who was a professor of astrophysics at Texas A&M. He was back home visiting relatives. He told me about the travails and disappointments of being a Little belly Belly.

Q: Just what is a Little belly Belly?

A: We fud jist like big-belly Bellys, but cain't grow no belly.

Q: What jobs do you miss out on because of being one?

A: Fudin'. Gettin' to work 'round fud all the time, dirt, what not.

Q: Don't you find satisfaction in what you do?

A: Not so much that you'd notice.

Q: Can you explain what a Fecal Fusion Accelerator is?

A: You burn crap at Mach 12. It's somethin'.

Q: How would you define Bellyness?

A: An unstoppable force. Cain't be contained either. It's jist there.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

In our conversation, Buford mentioned the name Acapulco. Like everyone else, I had heard of the legend of Acapulco, but that's all I thought it was, a legend. But Buford said that Acapulco was real and was presenly living in a trailer with an outhouse in back, in Rococo Canyon, about ten miles west of Dime Box. I knew a golden opportunity when I heard one, so I hopped in the rental car and took off. About two hours later (it was ten miles if you could fly) I found the trailer. A middle-aged man, slightly scruffy in appearance, opened the door. He wasn't exactly friendly, but after explaining my mission, he asked me in. After a few Shiners, we got down to business.

Q: When did you first forsake musical accompaniments?

A: Must have been in Austin. First time I tried singing with Dylan. Sounded so bad, I knew something had to go.

Q: Is it true that Billy Bob Ledbetter is your father?

A: That's what I hear. Can't nail it down.

Q: What are your feelings about the existence of San Manse'?

A: It's there. Not everyone can get there, but it's there.

Q: What do you think about the Bellys?

A: They're alright. They can wear you out, though. I can handle only so much Belly before I need a break.

Q: Where do you go from here? (this question was important to establish Acapulco's metaphysical credentials)

A: A different here.

CHAPTER TWELVE

I spent the rest of the afternoon at Acapulco's and didn't leave until almost 8 P.M. When I stepped out the trailer door, I saw immediately why Acapulco had chosen this spot to live. The night sky was brilliant with millions of orbs of light shining brightly and profusely. It was amazing scene and still remember Acapulco's parting remark, "Now that's music to sing by."

Instead of heading back to Dime Box, I went to Austin where Acapulco said some REBELS (REnegade BELly) lived. The REBELS had rebelled against many Belly time honored traditions and customs. The Bellys called them dyed in the wool health nuts. They ate vegetables and fruits and even liked to exercise. They weren't totally reprobate, however, because they still used outhouses.

I drove for about three hours and almost had a wreck when I fell asleep behind the wheel. I then pulled off the road and shut my eyes. Next thing I knew it was ten o'clock in the morning. I started driving again and in about 45 minutes I was in northeast Austin where I stopped at a REBEL Cafe called 'Sprout, Spout & Back Out'. The REBELS turned out to be somewhat elitist but nonetheless amiable to answering a few questions.

Q: When did the break from the main body of Bellys occur?

A: Sometime after Eden. We think that's when big-Belly bellies went nuts about fud. They're the ones who broke away, not us.

Q: Why do you advocate such extreme measures in nutrition and exercise?

A: They aren't extreme. They're right.

Q: Do you think there'll ever be a reconciliation with the Bellys?

A: Sure, when the bigs start seeing things our way.

Q: Do you ever miss eating briskets?

A: Trim the fat and add burgandy, and we'll do brisket all day. In three-ounce portions.

Q: Do you still practice AA (Archie Abercrombie) outhouse etiquette?

A: Oh, sure. Who doesn't?

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The REBELS had inadvertently spoke of some MOR (Middle of the Road) Bellys who had settled in an area about a hundred miles southwest of Austin. They had grown tired of eating all the time and had decided to reduce their calorie intake by fifty percent. They weren't REBEL material but neither were they any longer full fledged Belly material either. So they decided to leave Dime Box and start their own town which they called New Dime Box. Seemed like a natural progression in the interview process so I left Austin hoping to find this place. When I did, I went straight to the founder of New Dime Box, who was also the mayor. His name was Aldous Huxley Belly.

Q: What prompted you and the other citizens of New Dime Box to make such a radical move?

A: We're different. Radical, I guess, in a non-radical sort of way. At least, that's what I think.

Q: Was it political in nature?

A: Not really. No one in Dime Box particularly cares. Bellys are very tolerant, you know. We're all welcome to visit, and no one says much when we don't eat Belly-style. They're so focused on fuding, I don't think any of them notice when others aren't.

Q: Do you believe in SSD (Storvin' Sickness Disease)?

A: It was a genuine concern centuries ago. You have to look a long time to find anyone storving today. It's time to move on.

Q: What do you fear will happen to the Bellys of Dime Box?

A: Oh, they'll be fine. I don't expect to see much change in them for decades. The Belly lifestyle is quite enjoyable to most Bellys.

Q: Is New Dime Box Democratic or Republican?

A: It varies. We'd all like to be Democrats, but none of us are that stupid, if you know what I mean.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Aldous was such an amiable host that after our interview he invited me to use his study to catch up on my e-mail. He also recommended two more people to interview. One was Bernice Belly, niece of Mr. Donnie Bob Belly. She was Executive VP and CEO of the B6 chain. She lived in New York City. The other person was Dickie Morris, inventor of Dickie pants and owner of Toes R US. I emailed Ms. Belly first with the following questions.

Q: What is the concept behind a B6? A: Joyous consumption. Q: How big is the B6 chain? A: The concept has no limits. The chain grows each day. Q: Do B6s vary in what they sell? A: Yes, according to the optimal local formula for joyous consumption. Q: What kind of input does the B6 chairman, Mr. D.B. Belly, make? A: He created the model. Q: Is DB easy to work for? What are your greatest challenges? A: Yes, he is. He's hands-off, but belly-on. When he visits and finds a fud item lacking, it's history. None of my challenges are large. Uncle D. did the hard part. I just reproduce.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I next emailed Dickie. At one time, Dickie had played a significant role in the Belly saga, having once fallen in love with Natasha (aka Lucy), but the affair had ended when Lucy had thrown him against a wall when he had gotten a little too familiar with her toes. He had gone back to Washington, D.C., where he had written a book on how George Bush would lose the next election if he didn't wear Dickie trousers.

Q: Do you make overalls for Bellys?

A: I tried, but couldn't get the size down.

Q: Have you become an implacable enemy of the Bellys?

A: No, not implacable. Transitory is more like it.

Q: Is it true you own land near Dime Box?

A: I sometimes rent.

Q: Do you plan to build a golf course there?

A: Short, fat Jewish guys from Brooklyn don't do golf in Texas.

Q: What do you remember most about the Bellys?

A: The bellies.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Visiting New Dime Box was quite refreshing and rewarding. I talked to Aldous for a while longer and found out he had a PhD in biochemistry from Harvard. That reminded me that the Bellys were unusually smart and even though many of them, especially the Big belly Bellys, spoke in a dialect that was almost unintelligible, it did not in any way detract from their core intelligence.

Q: Why are the Bellys so smart?

A: No one knows for sure. A theory I lean toward is that their remarkably extensive diet has promoted brain development over the centuries. They eat so many different things, they obtain trace amounts of more vitamins and minerals than virtually any population group on earth.

Q: Why do they spell food fud?

A: To connote a dietary distinction. Much like kosher designations among orthodox Jews.

Q: How do their IQs and fud passion interact?

A: Passion leads. Cognitive ability supports passion.

Q: Are the Bellys capable of getting even smarter?

A: That's what the trend suggests.

Q: Will the Bellys always be satisfied with their station in life?

A: Not all of them. The "sorry job" acclimation rate is far less than that of the fuders. We don't know where that's headed.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Leaving New Dime Box was proving to be difficult. It was my kind of town. Plenty of food but not too much. Maybe one day I might return.

Next stop was Corpus Christi, or more precisely Mathis, a hamlet just north of the city. There lived the HHD, the High Priestess of the Decadian Cult. Apparently, the HHD or La-Pau as she was sometimes known, had been intimately involved in the Belly adventure of the Haunted Outhouse. She had been up close and personal with several Bellys, including DB, and could shed some light on what it meant to be a Belly.

Q: Are any Bellys involved with your Decadian organization?

A: Not as members. They don't do conventional birth certificates, so establishing birth dates is usually impossible.

Q: DB has trouble counting past ten. Does DB's relationship with the number ten correlate in any way with your fascination with the number ten? If so, how?

A: I wonder. He counted normally until he got the mumps as a child. Many Bellys think he was ten at the time. Doesn't sound like a coincidence to me.

Q: Did you know Bellys before Bellys were cool?

A: I know Bellys, and Bellys are not cool. Whatever they are, it's not cool.

Q: Would you allow your son or daughter to marry a Belly?

A: Neither would be Decadian, I can tell you that.

Q: Where do you go from here? (once again, the metaphysical credentials have to be certified)

A: Wherever I want.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

It was now Monday morning. I had spent Sunday afternoon at the home of the HHD drinking Old Milwaukee and watching the Cowboys play the Redskins. They had won but it hadn't been easy. I decided to give the owner, Jerry Jones, and the head coach, Bill Parcells, a conference call. Luckily, both were available to talk.

Q: Have you thought about recruiting Bellys for your offensive line?

Jerry: I'd be interested in talking with the boys.

Bill: I'm not seeing much footwork there. They can sit and eat and stand and eat, but can they move fast? I'm not seeing it.

Q: Have you negotiated with Dime Box officials about having training camp there?

Jerry: I'd be interested in talking with the boys.

Bill: No. Too many diversions.

Q: Any Bellys in the front office?

Jerry: I'd be interested in talking with the boys.

Bill: No. I don't think we need any help, do we boss?

Q: How about Bellys as weight trainers?

Jerry: I'd be interested in talking with the boys.

Bill: We don't need that kind of weight training. Our guys already know how to put on weight.

Q: What could the Bellys teach your players about the game of life?

Jerry: I like the way they talk.

Bill: I can't make sense of anything they say.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Talking football with Jerry and Bill had reminded of the Belly national pastime, Scrappin'. I don't know much about other than the fact the Bellys really loved it. I was about 150 miles out of Dime Box and on deadline so I decided to call the IBS (International Belly Scrappin') Headquarters in Dime Box for the interview. A Mr. Jonah Wale Belly, Executive Secretary of IBS, was nice enough to answer my questions.

Q: What exactly is Scrappin'?

A: Scrappin'. Shoot, everbody knows 'bout scrappin'.

Q: Is their a league? How is it organized?

A: Leak? Take to leakin' you cain't scrap. Rules is rules.

Q: Who invented Scrappin'?

A: I had of heard it wad a 'vented in the old, old country - 'cross the big water, you know - ta git practiced up fore fudin'. Now, if you wad to had meant to had talked on Dime Box scrappin' - that there's some different from that old, old, world scrappin', see? - wail, I'd reckon that wad had of beened my great, great, what not, grandpa Barney Belly. Course, you know what? They's rule what Donnie Bob had put in there that nobody ain't never heared on. Ain't nobody could had talked him out a 'em so I reckon they scrappin' rule now. That there's what I'd reckon if was I had wad goin' to had reckoned, what it had be.

Q: Any illegal drug use in Scrappin'?

A: Don't like to see no milk. Really messy pukin'.

Q: Is their a players' union?

A: Oh, we purty wail share the onion, 'tater, 'mater, what not. Cain't let down on yore fudin' when you scrappin'. Shoot, cain't let down on yore fudin' when you ain't scrappin'. Let down on yore fudin', you know what? Git a big ol' storvin', that's what.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Still on deadline, I decided another cell phone call was in order. Turning on the tape recorder, I punched in Ross Perot's palatial home in Dallas. He said he could give me two minutes so I got right to the questions.

Q: Didn't you have Bellys on staff in the research lab when you were running EDS?

A: Oh yes.

Q: When you were in charge of educational reform for Texas, why didn't you visit Dime Box?

A: They don't wont no reformin'. They got they ways. I reckon they workin' OK.

Q: How do you view the B6 chain as an entrepreneurial model?

A: Mighty fine.

Q: If you could fashion a computer after a Belly, what would it look like?

A: Real powerful and flexible.

Q: Where do you stand on fud?

A: I like it. I'd eat more of it if I could. I cain't, though, so I don't. That's the difference between Bellys and the rest of us. They don't know the meaning of "cain't."

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

I had made good time and was only few miles out of Dime Box when my radiator went crazy and smoke started rising out from the engine. I immediately pulled over to the side of the road, lifted the hood, and knew right away the radiator needed water. Didn't have any though, only a case of Old Milwaukee. Well, it would have to do, and for every can I poured in the radiator I drank one in response. After twelve cans in each place I started feeling wobbly and lurched over to sit beneath a cottonwood tree where the sky in front of me started to rotate in swirling colors of the rainbow. Out of the midst of this calvacade of hues stepped a man wearing a long white robe and sporting a salt and pepper beard. He identified himself as the Trans-Sans Man, a mysterious personage who entered into the Belly Experience at moments known as OMT (Old Milwaukee Transition). Even in a dazed state, I managed to ask a few questions.

Q: Where do we go from here? (surely this was metaphysical)

A: Start out picking a here. Don't think you're going to get all the here details down the first shot, though. Sure, you may get the here neighborhood you're shooting for, but then find that the schools are lousy and there's no bait shop around. Doing here is tricky. Practice on your current here first before doing an alternative here.

Q: Are the Belly oblivious to the OMT?

A: So far. We haven't given up.

Q: What things do you see happening to the Bellys?

A: Anything would be cause for celebration. They haven't changed lately.

Q: Have any Bellys ever been a Trans-San Man?

A: A few have tried, but they aren't serious.

Q: Do you enjoy your work?

A: Sometimes. Not very often lately, though. I blew my last here trip. Hoping to do better next time.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

After the Trans-San Man evaporated (that's about the best way I can describe his departure), I fell asleep and woke up just about the time the sun was going down. I walked over to my car and luckily enough it cranked. I then drove the remaining three miles to Dime Box and went to the B6 for supper. This time I made sure to order baby portions. I was eating contentedly when a huge shadow suddenly loomed over the table. I looked up and sure enough it was none other the most famous Belly of all, the hero of at least three novels, the inventor of the Rolling Outhouse, the man who went to the planet Grol and came back unchanged, Mr. Donnie Bob Belly aka Deep Belly aka DB. I asked him to sit down and he asked me why I was so eating so puny. Did I have the Storvin' Sickness? I said no, and a waitress came to the table, and DB ordered the first three pages of the menu. Between bites, I was able to ask a few questions.

Q: Is it a burden being a Big belly Belly?

A: Goodness, no. Shoot, I cain't hardly 'magine what I'd do if had would had beened a little-belly. Good night! You hardly 'magine what I'd do with a little belly? Me of a neither. Cain't even thank on it. Too dadgum scary, what that had be.

Q: Are you ready to retire?

A: Oh, I reckon. 'Bout time ta re-tar the rollin' outhouse. You seen it? Sorry, ain't they? Tars gettin' all bald, what not. Reckon why they cain't jist put wigs on 'em, like balded haids? I don't know. Reckon they differnt balds, is what I reckon.

Q: What's been your greatest accomplishment?

A: I don't thank I got none a them. They taste purty good?

Q: Would you like to see any changes in Dime Box?

A: Goodness yes! Change the name ta Mr. FDR's Town, first off. Second off too. Won't nobody listen at me, though. I don't know why. You can jist see it that ort ta be the name cain't you? Cain't you? See! I knowed you'd see it. Wisht them nuters'd see it. Dadgum shame, what it is.

Q: Any chance of a reconciliation with BOM?

A: Oh, I don't know. They got bad seals? I'd say replace 'em, what I'd say. That stop leak mess ain't gonna work very long, you jist wait. When them seal go ta leakin' again, jist 'member I done tolt you 'bout that stop leak mess. Ain't gonna work, what it ain't gonna do.Well, that's that. After interviewing the original Deep Belly, what's the point of going on? I did the best job I could. Did I define the quintessential Belly? Probably not. That'll take someone far wiser and abler than me. Also, someone with more stomach capacity.

THE END

EPILOGUE

Well, that's that. After interviewing the original Deep Belly, what's the point of going on? I did the best job I could. Did I define the quintessential Belly? Probably not. That'll take someone far wiser and abler than me. Also, someone with more stomach capacity.

THE END