Gary pushed his way through a crowd of [small] children milling about the theater lobby, and finally made it to the ticket window.

"How many?" the teenage girl asked through the mouthful of [pizza] she was chewing.

"No, I don't want any tickets. I need to speak to the manager, or whoever's in charge, right away."

"Well, you can't right now. He's busy."

"I don't care if he's busy!" Gary insisted. "This is a matter of life and [tree]!"

"He's putting on his makeup, and he can't be disturbed while he's centering himself for his performance. Now move it, buster."

She stared Gary down until he stepped aside, bumping into a boy who cried, "[Yeesh!] Can't you look where you're going?" The boy and his friends threw [blue] popcorn at Gary until their teacher intervened, allowing Gary to escape.

Outside the main entrance, Gary took a deep breath and tried to decide what he should do next. He pulled out his copy of the Sun-Times and read the article again.

"Disaster at Chicago Theater"

"Yesterday, a near riot occurred among a group of school children attending the [Eiffel Tower] Theater's production of '[Katie] the [Messy] [Car]'. A wild [dog] escaped from its cage backstage and ran into the audience, where it [ran] the young theatergoers. It took hours to clean up the mess, and the theater has been closed until more [birds] can be located to replace those that were broken."

Gary knew he couldn't let this [cool] tragedy happen. Stuffing the paper back inside his jacket, the hurried around to the back and slipped in through the stage door.

The entryway was dark, and it took a moment for Gary's eyes to adjust. From the sounds of things, the play had already begun. Laughter and cheers rang from somewhere ahead and to the right.

Gary made his way to the nearest hallway, where a number of dressing rooms were labeled with names like "Bobo the [Insane] Clown" and "[Lauren] the Happy Horse".

Suddenly one of the doors opened. Several actors in [friendly] costumes pushed past Gary on their way to the stage. Following them, Gary could hear the sound from the audience growing louder, along with music. The hallway widened into a backstage area where the actors waited for their cues. No one paid any attention to Gary, so he slipped past them, looking for the animals' cages.

Finally, behind an extra curtain, he found them. Locating the [dog], Gary checked and found that the latch on its cage was broken. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a [comfortable] [couch] and jammed it into the latch, then tested the door. Satisfied that it would hold, he turned to go--but the curtain flew open and he was blinded by bright lights.

"Well, well, well, who have we here?" a voice boomed [quickly]. A [smart] clown walked over and slapped Gary on the back. "This must be my good friend, Hobo [Brooke]!"

"No--no--I'm not--" Gary stammered, but applause and laughter from the kids in the audience drowned him out.

"Look, buddy," the clown muttered under his breath, "I don't know what you're doing messing with my animals, but if you don't want me to call the police, you'll play along." With that, he grabbed Gary and hauled him to the front of the stage.

"Hobo [Brooke] is going to sing a song for us, aren't you?" The clown nudged Gary in the ribs. "What do we say, kids?"

"1--2--3--HIT IT!" the audience yelled.

Gary tried to remember a song, any song. Finally, he croaked, "[What do I have to do to make you love me?]."

"Well, wasn't that [beautiful]?" the clown man said when Gary finished. "Take a bow!"

Gary did as instructed, amid a shower of [benches] thrown by the kids, then beat a hasty retreat. He was more relieved than words could say to leave the stage behind.

"Next time," he said to himself, "I'll bring Marissa along and make *her* do the singing. This was a [dirty] way to spend an afternoon!"

And with that, he headed off to his next save. Something about a [newspaper] caught in a cement mixer...

Gary pushed his way through a crowd of [gargantuan] children milling about the theater lobby, and finally made it to the ticket window.

"How many?" the teenage girl asked through the mouthful of [eggplant] she was chewing.

"No, I don't want any tickets. I need to speak to the manager, or whoever's in charge, right away."

"Well, you can't right now. He's busy."

"I don't care if he's busy!" Gary insisted. "This is a matter of life and [zamboni]!"

"He's putting on his makeup, and he can't be disturbed while he's centering himself for his performance. Now move it, buster."

She stared Gary down until he stepped aside, bumping into a boy who cried, "[Jee Willickers!] Can't you look where you're going?" The boy and his friends threw [runny] popcorn at Gary until their teacher intervened, allowing Gary to escape.

Outside the main entrance, Gary took a deep breath and tried to decide what he should do next. He pulled out his copy of the Sun-Times and read the article again.

"Disaster at Chicago Theater"

"Yesterday, a near riot occurred among a group of school children attending the [She] Theater's production of '[Jethro] the [Slick] [Back-Hoe]'. A wild [warthog] escaped from its cage backstage and escaped into the audience, where it [slid] the young theatergoers. It took hours to clean up the mess, and the theater has been closed until more [pickles] can be located to replace those that were broken."

Gary knew he couldn't let this [bitter] tragedy happen. Stuffing the paper back inside his jacket, the hurried around to the back and slipped in through the stage door.

The entryway was dark, and it took a moment for Gary's eyes to adjust. From the sounds of things, the play had already begun. Laughter and cheers rang from somewhere ahead and to the right.

Gary made his way to the nearest hallway, where a number of dressing rooms were labeled with names like "Bobo the [Smooth] Clown" and "[Bo] the Happy Horse".

Suddenly one of the doors opened. Several actors in [brainy] costumes pushed past Gary on their way to the stage. Following them, Gary could hear the sound from the audience growing louder, along with music. The hallway widened into a backstage area where the actors waited for their cues. No one paid any attention to Gary, so he slipped past them, looking for the animals' cages.

Finally, behind an extra curtain, he found them. Locating the [warthog], Gary checked and found that the latch on its cage was broken. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a [dense] [bicycle] and jammed it into the latch, then pulled on the door. Satisfied that it would hold, he turned to go--but the curtain flew open and he was blinded by bright lights.

"Well, well, well, who have we here?" a voice boomed [splendidly]. A [plow] clown walked over and slapped Gary on the back. "This must be my good friend, Hobo [Brandy]!"

"No--no--I'm not--" Gary stammered, but applause and laughter from the kids in the audience drowned him out.

"Look, buddy," the clown muttered under his breath, "I don't know what you're doing messing with my animals, but if you don't want me to call the police, you'll play along." With that, he grabbed Gary and hauled him to the front of the stage.

"Hobo [Brandy] is going to sing a song for us, aren't you?" The clown nudged Gary in the ribs. "What do we say, kids?"

"1--2--3--HIT IT!" the audience yelled.

Gary tried to remember a song, any song. Finally, he croaked, ["They say you're a snub queen, but honey I don't think that's true!"]

"Well, wasn't that [selfish]?" the clown man said when Gary finished. "Take a bow!"

Gary did as instructed, amid a shower of [blowfish] thrown by the kids, then beat a hasty retreat. He was more relieved than words could say to leave the stage behind.

"Next time," he said to himself, "I'll bring Marissa along and make *her* do the singing. This was a [hairy] way to spend an afternoon!"

And with that, he headed off to his next save. Something about a [puddle] caught in a cement mixer...

Gary pushed his way through a crowd of [fuzzy] children milling about the theater lobby, and finally made it to the ticket window.

"How many?" the teenage girl asked through the mouthful of [Spaghetti-Oh's] she was chewing.

"No, I don't want any tickets. I need to speak to the manager, or whoever's in charge, right away."

"Well, you can't right now. He's busy."

"I don't care if he's busy!" Gary insisted. "This is a matter of life and [gingko tree!]"

"He's putting on his makeup, and he can't be disturbed while he's centering himself for his performance. Now move it, buster."

She stared Gary down until he stepped aside, bumping into a boy who cried, "[ZOIKS!!] Can't you look where you're going?" The boy and his friends threw [chartreuse] popcorn at Gary until their teacher intervened, allowing Gary to escape.

Outside the main entrance, Gary took a deep breath and tried to decide what he should do next. He pulled out his copy of the Sun-Times and read the article again.

"Disaster at Chicago Theater"

"Yesterday, a near riot occurred among a group of school children attending the [Bionic Woman Action-Figure] Theater's production of '[Ed McMahon] the [Obtuse] [Spatula]'. A wild [meerkat] escaped from its cage backstage and ran into the audience, where it [rollerbladed] the young theatergoers. It took hours to clean up the mess, and the theater has been closed until more [snowflakes] can be located to replace those that were broken."

Gary knew he couldn't let this [slushy] tragedy happen. Stuffing the paper back inside his jacket, the hurried around to the back and slipped in through the stage door.

The entryway was dark, and it took a moment for Gary's eyes to adjust. From the sounds of things, the play had already begun. Laughter and cheers rang from somewhere ahead and to the right.

Gary made his way to the nearest hallway, where a number of dressing rooms were labeled with names like "Bobo the [Moist] Clown" and "[Harrison Ford] the Happy Horse".

Suddenly one of the doors opened. Several actors in [rugged] costumes pushed past Gary on their way to the stage. Following them, Gary could hear the sound from the audience growing louder, along with music. The hallway widened into a backstage area where the actors waited for their cues. No one paid any attention to Gary, so he slipped past them, looking for the animals' cages.

Finally, behind an extra curtain, he found them. Locating the [meerkat], Gary checked and found that the latch on its cage was broken. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a [billowy] [staple puller] and jammed it into the latch, then pulled on the door. Satisfied that it would hold, he turned to go--but the curtain flew open and he was blinded by bright lights.

"Well, well, well, who have we here?" a voice boomed [frenetically]. A [beige] clown walked over and slapped Gary on the back. "This must be my good friend, Hobo [Ricky Nelson]!"

"No--no--I'm not--" Gary stammered, but applause and laughter from the kids in the audience drowned him out.

"Look, buddy," the clown muttered under his breath, "I don't know what you're doing messing with my animals, but if you don't want me to call the police, you'll play along." With that, he grabbed Gary and hauled him to the front of the stage.

"Hobo [Ricky Nelson] is going to sing a song for us, aren't you?" The clown nudged Gary in the ribs. "What do we say, kids?"

"1--2--3--HIT IT!" the audience yelled.

Gary tried to remember a song, any song. Finally, he croaked, ["Yoko brought her walrus, there was magic in the air."]

"Well, wasn't that [mooshy]?" the clown man said when Gary finished. "Take a bow!"

Gary did as instructed, amid a shower of [tube socks] thrown by the kids, then beat a hasty retreat. He was more relieved than words could say to leave the stage behind.

"Next time," he said to himself, "I'll bring Marissa along and make *her* do the singing. This was a [psychedelic] way to spend an afternoon!"

And with that, he headed off to his next save. Something about [fuzzy dice] caught in a cement mixer...

Gary pushed his way through a crowd of [shiny] children milling about the theater lobby, and finally made it to the ticket window.

"How many?" the teenage girl asked through the mouthful of [cheese flavored popcorn] she was chewing.

"No, I don't want any tickets. I need to speak to the manager, or whoever's in charge, right away."

"Well, you can't right now. He's busy."

"I don't care if he's busy!" Gary insisted. "This is a matter of life and [frigates]!"

"He's putting on his makeup, and he can't be disturbed while he's centering himself for his performance. Now move it, buster."

She stared Gary down until he stepped aside, bumping into a boy who cried, "[Get out!] Can't you look where you're going?" The boy and his friends threw [obsequious] popcorn at Gary until their teacher intervened, allowing Gary to escape.

Outside the main entrance, Gary took a deep breath and tried to decide what he should do next. He pulled out his copy of the Sun-Times and read the article again.

"Disaster at Chicago Theater"

"Yesterday, a near riot occurred among a group of school children attending the [Siberia] Theater's production of '[Francine] the [Purple] [Whirligig]'. A wild [chicken] escaped from its cage backstage and ran into the audience, where it [smacked] the young theatergoers. It took hours to clean up the mess, and the theater has been closed until more [buffalo] can be located to replace those that were broken."

Gary knew he couldn't let this [clairvoyant] tragedy happen. Stuffing the paper back inside his jacket, the hurried around to the back and slipped in through the stage door.

The entryway was dark, and it took a moment for Gary's eyes to adjust. From the sounds of things, the play had already begun. Laughter and cheers rang from somewhere ahead and to the right.

Gary made his way to the nearest hallway, where a number of dressing rooms were labeled with names like "Bobo the [Flowery] Clown" and "[Charlie] the Happy Horse".

Suddenly one of the doors opened. Several actors in [simple] costumes pushed past Gary on their way to the stage. Following them, Gary could hear the sound from the audience growing louder, along with music. The hallway widened into a backstage area where the actors waited for their cues. No one paid any attention to Gary, so he slipped past them, looking for the animals' cages.

Finally, behind an extra curtain, he found them. Locating the [chicken], Gary checked and found that the latch on its cage was broken. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a [Heartless] [Wench] and jammed it into the latch, then pulled on the door. Satisfied that it would hold, he turned to go--but the curtain flew open and he was blinded by bright lights.

"Well, well, well, who have we here?" a voice boomed [swiftly]. A [devilish] clown walked over and slapped Gary on the back. "This must be my good friend, Hobo [Alexander]!"

"No--no--I'm not--" Gary stammered, but applause and laughter from the kids in the audience drowned him out.

"Look, buddy," the clown muttered under his breath, "I don't know what you're doing messing with my animals, but if you don't want me to call the police, you'll play along." With that, he grabbed Gary and hauled him to the front of the stage.

"Hobo [Alexander] is going to sing a song for us, aren't you?" The clown nudged Gary in the ribs. "What do we say, kids?"

"1--2--3--HIT IT!" the audience yelled.

Gary tried to remember a song, any song. Finally, he croaked, ["She could throw a whirling dervish out of whirl!"]

"Well, wasn't that [frank]?" the clown man said when Gary finished. "Take a bow!"

Gary did as instructed, amid a shower of [bees] thrown by the kids, then beat a hasty retreat. He was more relieved than words could say to leave the stage behind.

"Next time," he said to himself, "I'll bring Marissa along and make *her* do the singing. This was a [sluggish] way to spend an afternoon!"

And with that, he headed off to his next save. Something about an [envelope] caught in a cement mixer...

Gary pushed his way through a crowd of [pointy] children milling about the theater lobby, and finally made it to the ticket window.

"How many?" the teenage girl asked through the mouthful of [beets] she was chewing.

"No, I don't want any tickets. I need to speak to the manager, or whoever's in charge, right away."

"Well, you can't right now. He's busy."

"I don't care if he's busy!" Gary insisted. "This is a matter of life and [lung]!"

"He's putting on his makeup, and he can't be disturbed while he's centering himself for his performance. Now move it, buster."

She stared Gary down until he stepped aside, bumping into a boy who cried, "[Golly!] Can't you look where you're going?" The boy and his friends threw [silly] popcorn at Gary until their teacher intervened, allowing Gary to escape.

Outside the main entrance, Gary took a deep breath and tried to decide what he should do next. He pulled out his copy of the Sun-Times and read the article again.

"Disaster at Chicago Theater"

"Yesterday, a near riot occurred among a group of school children attending the [Father] Theater's production of '[Clinton] the [Shiny] [Ball]'. A wild [opossum] escaped from its cage backstage and ran into the audience, where it [laughed] the young theatergoers. It took hours to clean up the mess, and the theater has been closed until more [bowls] can be located to replace those that were broken."

Gary knew he couldn't let this [teeny] tragedy happen. Stuffing the paper back inside his jacket, the hurried around to the back and slipped in through the stage door.

The entryway was dark, and it took a moment for Gary's eyes to adjust. From the sounds of things, the play had already begun. Laughter and cheers rang from somewhere ahead and to the right.

Gary made his way to the nearest hallway, where a number of dressing rooms were labeled with names like "Bobo the [Tiny] Clown" and "[Ricky Martin] the Happy Horse".

Suddenly one of the doors opened. Several actors in [sticky] costumes pushed past Gary on their way to the stage. Following them, Gary could hear the sound from the audience growing louder, along with music. The hallway widened into a backstage area where the actors waited for their cues. No one paid any attention to Gary, so he slipped past them, looking for the animals' cages.

Finally, behind an extra curtain, he found them. Locating the [opossum], Gary checked and found that the latch on its cage was broken. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a [wet] [car] and jammed it into the latch, then pulled on the door. Satisfied that it would hold, he turned to go--but the curtain flew open and he was blinded by bright lights.

"Well, well, well, who have we here?" a voice boomed [merrily]. A [slimy] clown walked over and slapped Gary on the back. "This must be my good friend, Hobo [Dana Scully]!"

"No--no--I'm not--" Gary stammered, but applause and laughter from the kids in the audience drowned him out.

"Look, buddy," the clown muttered under his breath, "I don't know what you're doing messing with my animals, but if you don't want me to call the police, you'll play along." With that, he grabbed Gary and hauled him to the front of the stage.

"Hobo [Dana Scully] is going to sing a song for us, aren't you?" The clown nudged Gary in the ribs. "What do we say, kids?"

"1--2--3--HIT IT!" the audience yelled.

Gary tried to remember a song, any song. Finally, he croaked, ["Hey Jude, don't make it bad, take a sad song, and make it better."]

"Well, wasn't that [green]?" the clown man said when Gary finished. "Take a bow!"

Gary did as instructed, amid a shower of [balls] thrown by the kids, then beat a hasty retreat. He was more relieved than words could say to leave the stage behind.

"Next time," he said to himself, "I'll bring Marissa along and make *her* do the singing. This was a [round] way to spend an afternoon!"

And with that, he headed off to his next save. Something about a [cat] caught in a cement mixer...

Gary pushed his way through a crowd of [frumpy] children milling about the theater lobby, and finally made it to the ticket window.

"How many?" the teenage girl asked through the mouthful of [sushi] she was chewing.

"No, I don't want any tickets. I need to speak to the manager, or whoever's in charge, right away."

"Well, you can't right now. He's busy."

"I don't care if he's busy!" Gary insisted. "This is a matter of life and [lake]!"

"He's putting on his makeup, and he can't be disturbed while he's centering himself for his performance. Now move it, buster."

She stared Gary down until he stepped aside, bumping into a boy who cried, "[Shazam!] Can't you look where you're going?" The boy and his friends threw [puckish] popcorn at Gary until their teacher intervened, allowing Gary to escape.

Outside the main entrance, Gary took a deep breath and tried to decide what he should do next. He pulled out his copy of the Sun-Times and read the article again.

"Disaster at Chicago Theater"

"Yesterday, a near riot occurred among a group of school children attending the [Blackstone] Theater's production of '[Crumb] the [Sheepish] [Teapot]'. A wild [squirrel] escaped from its cage backstage and ran into the audience, where it [burned] the young theatergoers. It took hours to clean up the mess, and the theater has been closed until more [cameras] can be located to replace those that were broken."

Gary knew he couldn't let this [sweet] tragedy happen. Stuffing the paper back inside his jacket, the hurried around to the back and slipped in through the stage door.

The entryway was dark, and it took a moment for Gary's eyes to adjust. From the sounds of things, the play had already begun. Laughter and cheers rang from somewhere ahead and to the right.

Gary made his way to the nearest hallway, where a number of dressing rooms were labeled with names like "Bobo the [Sour] Clown" and "[Gary] the Happy Horse".

Suddenly one of the doors opened. Several actors in [foolish] costumes pushed past Gary on their way to the stage. Following them, Gary could hear the sound from the audience growing louder, along with music. The hallway widened into a backstage area where the actors waited for their cues. No one paid any attention to Gary, so he slipped past them, looking for the animals' cages.

Finally, behind an extra curtain, he found them. Locating the [squirrel], Gary checked and found that the latch on its cage was broken. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a [colorful] [grin] and jammed it into the latch, then pulled on the door. Satisfied that it would hold, he turned to go--but the curtain flew open and he was blinded by bright lights.

"Well, well, well, who have we here?" a voice boomed [pluckily]. A [gracious] clown walked over and slapped Gary on the back. "This must be my good friend, Hobo [Marissa]!"

"No--no--I'm not--" Gary stammered, but applause and laughter from the kids in the audience drowned him out.

"Look, buddy," the clown muttered under his breath, "I don't know what you're doing messing with my animals, but if you don't want me to call the police, you'll play along." With that, he grabbed Gary and hauled him to the front of the stage.

"Hobo [Marissa] is going to sing a song for us, aren't you?" The clown nudged Gary in the ribs. "What do we say, kids?"

"1--2--3--HIT IT!" the audience yelled.

Gary tried to remember a song, any song. Finally, he croaked, ["Put another log on the fire, and come and tell me why you're leaving me!"]

"Well, wasn't that [red]?" the clown man said when Gary finished. "Take a bow!"

Gary did as instructed, amid a shower of [computers] thrown by the kids, then beat a hasty retreat. He was more relieved than words could say to leave the stage behind.

"Next time," he said to himself, "I'll bring Marissa along and make *her* do the singing. This was an [ergonomic] way to spend an afternoon!"

And with that, he headed off to his next save. Something about a [towel] caught in a cement mixer...

Gary pushed his way through a crowd of [silly] children milling about the theater lobby, and finally made it to the ticket window.

"How many?" the teenage girl asked through the mouthful of [pasta] she was chewing.

"No, I don't want any tickets. I need to speak to the manager, or whoever's in charge, right away."

"Well, you can't right now. He's busy."

"I don't care if he's busy!" Gary insisted. "This is a matter of life and [hockey puck]!"

"He's putting on his makeup, and he can't be disturbed while he's centering himself for his performance. Now move it, buster."

She stared Gary down until he stepped aside, bumping into a boy who cried, "[Sweet!] Can't you look where you're going?" The boy and his friends threw [cute] popcorn at Gary until their teacher intervened, allowing Gary to escape.

Outside the main entrance, Gary took a deep breath and tried to decide what he should do next. He pulled out his copy of the Sun-Times and read the article again.

"Disaster at Chicago Theater"

"Yesterday, a near riot occurred among a group of school children attending the [Albany] Theater's production of '[Johnny] the [Shiny] [Textbook]'. A wild [sloth] escaped from its cage backstage and ran into the audience, where it [ran] the young theatergoers. It took hours to clean up the mess, and the theater has been closed until more [trees] can be located to replace those that were broken."

Gary knew he couldn't let this [smooth] tragedy happen. Stuffing the paper back inside his jacket, the hurried around to the back and slipped in through the stage door.

The entryway was dark, and it took a moment for Gary's eyes to adjust. From the sounds of things, the play had already begun. Laughter and cheers rang from somewhere ahead and to the right.

Gary made his way to the nearest hallway, where a number of dressing rooms were labeled with names like "Bobo the [Green] Clown" and "[Jill] the Happy Horse".

Suddenly one of the doors opened. Several actors in [bright] costumes pushed past Gary on their way to the stage. Following them, Gary could hear the sound from the audience growing louder, along with music. The hallway widened into a backstage area where the actors waited for their cues. No one paid any attention to Gary, so he slipped past them, looking for the animals' cages.

Finally, behind an extra curtain, he found them. Locating the [sloth], Gary checked and found that the latch on its cage was broken. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a [rippled] [typewriter] and jammed it into the latch, then pulled on the door. Satisfied that it would hold, he turned to go--but the curtain flew open and he was blinded by bright lights.

"Well, well, well, who have we here?" a voice boomed [sweetly]. A [big] clown walked over and slapped Gary on the back. "This must be my good friend, Hobo [Jiri]!" "No--no--I'm not--" Gary stammered, but applause and laughter from the kids in the audience drowned him out.

"Look, buddy," the clown muttered under his breath, "I don't know what you're doing messing with my animals, but if you don't want me to call the police, you'll play along." With that, he grabbed Gary and hauled him to the front of the stage.

"Hobo [Jiri] is going to sing a song for us, aren't you?" The clown nudged Gary in the ribs. "What do we say, kids?"

"1--2--3--HIT IT!" the audience yelled.

Gary tried to remember a song, any song. Finally, he croaked, ["If I had the chance I would ask the world to dance!"]

"Well, wasn't that [curved]?" the clown man said when Gary finished. "Take a bow!"

Gary did as instructed, amid a shower of [backpacks] thrown by the kids, then beat a hasty retreat. He was more relieved than words could say to leave the stage behind.

"Next time," he said to himself, "I'll bring Marissa along and make *her* do the singing. This was a [raised] way to spend an afternoon!"

And with that, he headed off to his next save. Something about a [button] caught in a cement mixer...

Gary pushed his way through a crowd of [delicious] children milling about the theater lobby, and finally made it to the ticket window.

"How many?" the teenage girl asked through the mouthful of [chocolate cake] she was chewing.

"No, I don't want any tickets. I need to speak to the manager, or whoever's in charge, right away."

"Well, you can't right now. He's busy."

"I don't care if he's busy!" Gary insisted. "This is a matter of life and [cat]!"

"He's putting on his makeup, and he can't be disturbed while he's centering himself for his performance. Now move it, buster."

She stared Gary down until he stepped aside, bumping into a boy who cried, "[Help!] Can't you look where you're going?" The boy and his friends threw [scruffy] popcorn at Gary until their teacher intervened, allowing Gary to escape.

Outside the main entrance, Gary took a deep breath and tried to decide what he should do next. He pulled out his copy of the Sun-Times and read the article again.

"Disaster at Chicago Theater"

"Yesterday, a near riot occurred among a group of school children attending the [Mr. Adler] Theater's production of '[Anu] the [Sweet] [Person]'. A wild [elephant] escaped from its cage backstage and ran into the audience, where it [ate] the young theatergoers. It took hours to clean up the mess, and the theater has been closed until more [Cheesy Poofs] can be located to replace those that were broken."

Gary knew he couldn't let this [elegant] tragedy happen. Stuffing the paper back inside his jacket, the hurried around to the back and slipped in through the stage door.

The entryway was dark, and it took a moment for Gary's eyes to adjust. From the sounds of things, the play had already begun. Laughter and cheers rang from somewhere ahead and to the right.

Gary made his way to the nearest hallway, where a number of dressing rooms were labeled with names like "Bobo the [Responsible] Clown" and "[Erin] the Happy Horse".

Suddenly one of the doors opened. Several actors in [reliable] costumes pushed past Gary on their way to the stage. Following them, Gary could hear the sound from the audience growing louder, along with music. The hallway widened into a backstage area where the actors waited for their cues. No one paid any attention to Gary, so he slipped past them, looking for the animals' cages.

Finally, behind an extra curtain, he found them. Locating the [elephant], Gary checked and found that the latch on its cage was broken. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a [neurotic] [librarian] and jammed it into the latch, then pulled on the door. Satisfied that it would hold, he turned to go--but the curtain flew open and he was blinded by bright lights.

"Well, well, well, who have we here?" a voice boomed [badly]. A [slow] clown walked over and slapped Gary on the back. "This must be my good friend, Hobo [Brenda]!"

"No--no--I'm not--" Gary stammered, but applause and laughter from the kids in the audience drowned him out.

"Look, buddy," the clown muttered under his breath, "I don't know what you're doing messing with my animals, but if you don't want me to call the police, you'll play along." With that, he grabbed Gary and hauled him to the front of the stage.

"Hobo [Brenda] is going to sing a song for us, aren't you?" The clown nudged Gary in the ribs. "What do we say, kids?"

"1--2--3--HIT IT!" the audience yelled.

Gary tried to remember a song, any song. Finally, he croaked, ["And I think to myself, what a wonderful world..."]

"Well, wasn't that [silly]?" the clown man said when Gary finished. "Take a bow!"

Gary did as instructed, amid a shower of [books] thrown by the kids, then beat a hasty retreat. He was more relieved than words could say to leave the stage behind.

"Next time," he said to himself, "I'll bring Marissa along and make *her* do the singing. This was an [objective] way to spend an afternoon!"

And with that, he headed off to his next save. Something about a [clock] caught in a cement mixer...

Gary pushed his way through a crowd of [vast] children milling about the theater lobby, and finally made it to the ticket window.

"How many?" the teenage girl asked through the mouthful of [chalupa] she was chewing.

"No, I don't want any tickets. I need to speak to the manager, or whoever's in charge, right away."

"Well, you can't right now. He's busy."

"I don't care if he's busy!" Gary insisted. "This is a matter of life and [briefcase]!"

"He's putting on his makeup, and he can't be disturbed while he's centering himself for his performance. Now move it, buster."

She stared Gary down until he stepped aside, bumping into a boy who cried, "[Far out!] Can't you look where you're going?" The boy and his friends threw [teensy] popcorn at Gary until their teacher intervened, allowing Gary to escape.

Outside the main entrance, Gary took a deep breath and tried to decide what he should do next. He pulled out his copy of the Sun-Times and read the article again.

"Disaster at Chicago Theater"

"Yesterday, a near riot occurred among a group of school children attending the [Wrigley Field] Theater's production of '[Patrick] the [Wet] [Yarmulke]'. A wild [kangaroo] escaped from its cage backstage and ran into the audience, where it [leaped] the young theatergoers. It took hours to clean up the mess, and the theater has been closed until more [calendars] can be located to replace those that were broken."

Gary knew he couldn't let this [silky] tragedy happen. Stuffing the paper back inside his jacket, the hurried around to the back and slipped in through the stage door.

The entryway was dark, and it took a moment for Gary's eyes to adjust. From the sounds of things, the play had already begun. Laughter and cheers rang from somewhere ahead and to the right.

Gary made his way to the nearest hallway, where a number of dressing rooms were labeled with names like "Bobo the [Red] Clown" and "[Marissa] the Happy Horse".

Suddenly one of the doors opened. Several actors in [narrow] costumes pushed past Gary on their way to the stage. Following them, Gary could hear the sound from the audience growing louder, along with music. The hallway widened into a backstage area where the actors waited for their cues. No one paid any attention to Gary, so he slipped past them, looking for the animals' cages.

Finally, behind an extra curtain, he found them. Locating the [kangaroo], Gary checked and found that the latch on its cage was broken. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a [loud] [sunglasses] and jammed it into the latch, then pulled on the door. Satisfied that it would hold, he turned to go--but the curtain flew open and he was blinded by bright lights.

"Well, well, well, who have we here?" a voice boomed [crankily]. A [bulky] clown walked over and slapped Gary on the back. "This must be my good friend, Hobo [Crumb]!"

"No--no--I'm not--" Gary stammered, but applause and laughter from the kids in the audience drowned him out.

"Look, buddy," the clown muttered under his breath, "I don't know what you're doing messing with my animals, but if you don't want me to call the police, you'll play along." With that, he grabbed Gary and hauled him to the front of the stage.

"Hobo [Crumb] is going to sing a song for us, aren't you?" The clown nudged Gary in the ribs. "What do we say, kids?"

"1--2--3--HIT IT!" the audience yelled.

Gary tried to remember a song, any song. Finally, he croaked, ["Tie a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree!"]

"Well, wasn't that [loose]?" the clown man said when Gary finished. "Take a bow!"

Gary did as instructed, amid a shower of [shoes] thrown by the kids, then beat a hasty retreat. He was more relieved than words could say to leave the stage behind.

"Next time," he said to himself, "I'll bring Marissa along and make *her* do the singing. This was a [rotten] way to spend an afternoon!"

And with that, he headed off to his next save. Something about a [fingernail] caught in a cement mixer...

Gary pushed his way through a crowd of [fine] children milling about the theater lobby, and finally made it to the ticket window.

"How many?" the teenage girl asked through the mouthful of [peanut butter] she was chewing.

"No, I don't want any tickets. I need to speak to the manager, or whoever's in charge, right away."

"Well, you can't right now. He's busy."

"I don't care if he's busy!" Gary insisted. "This is a matter of life and [door]!"

"He's putting on his makeup, and he can't be disturbed while he's centering himself for his performance. Now move it, buster."

She stared Gary down until he stepped aside, bumping into a boy who cried, "[Aaarrgh!] Can't you look where you're going?" The boy and his friends threw [shiny] popcorn at Gary until their teacher intervened, allowing Gary to escape.

Outside the main entrance, Gary took a deep breath and tried to decide what he should do next. He pulled out his copy of the Sun-Times and read the article again.

"Disaster at Chicago Theater"

"Yesterday, a near riot occurred among a group of school children attending the [Cubs] Theater's production of '[Marissa] the [Crunchy] [Mood]'. A wild [chimpanzee] escaped from its cage backstage and ran into the audience, where it [skipped] the young theatergoers. It took hours to clean up the mess, and the theater has been closed until more [toes] can be located to replace those that were broken."

Gary knew he couldn't let this [soft] tragedy happen. Stuffing the paper back inside his jacket, the hurried around to the back and slipped in through the stage door.

The entryway was dark, and it took a moment for Gary's eyes to adjust. From the sounds of things, the play had already begun. Laughter and cheers rang from somewhere ahead and to the right.

Gary made his way to the nearest hallway, where a number of dressing rooms were labeled with names like "Bobo the [Convenient] Clown" and "[Chuck] the Happy Horse".

Suddenly one of the doors opened. Several actors in [slick] costumes pushed past Gary on their way to the stage. Following them, Gary could hear the sound from the audience growing louder, along with music. The hallway widened into a backstage area where the actors waited for their cues. No one paid any attention to Gary, so he slipped past them, looking for the animals' cages.

Finally, behind an extra curtain, he found them. Locating the [chimpanzee], Gary checked and found that the latch on its cage was broken. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a [tan] [book] and jammed it into the latch, then pulled on the door. Satisfied that it would hold, he turned to go--but the curtain flew open and he was blinded by bright lights.

"Well, well, well, who have we here?" a voice boomed [stealthily]. A [fierce] clown walked over and slapped Gary on the back. "This must be my good friend, Hobo [Gary]!"

"No--no--I'm not--" Gary stammered, but applause and laughter from the kids in the audience drowned him out.

"Look, buddy," the clown muttered under his breath, "I don't know what you're doing messing with my animals, but if you don't want me to call the police, you'll play along." With that, he grabbed Gary and hauled him to the front of the stage.

"Hobo [Gary] is going to sing a song for us, aren't you?" The clown nudged Gary in the ribs. "What do we say, kids?"

"1--2--3--HIT IT!" the audience yelled.

Gary tried to remember a song, any song. Finally, he croaked, ["Ain't no sunshine when she's gone!"]

"Well, wasn't that [plush]?" the clown man said when Gary finished. "Take a bow!"

Gary did as instructed, amid a shower of [slippers] thrown by the kids, then beat a hasty retreat. He was more relieved than words could say to leave the stage behind.

"Next time," he said to himself, "I'll bring Marissa along and make *her* do the singing. This was a [bright] way to spend an afternoon!"

And with that, he headed off to his next save. Something about a [gate] caught in a cement mixer...