223- Two and Two Make Four

Tired of the everyday grind? A dream of a life of... Romantic adventure? Want to get away from it all? We offer you... Escape! Escape! Designed to free you from the four walls of today, for a half hour of high adventure!

You are running over the four-glock cliffs of Dover. By your side a girl who believes you're a madman, and pursuing you, bent on destroying you. A man whose terrible secrets you've stumbled upon, and from whom there is no escape.

Listen now, as escape brings you Walter Brown Newman's story, two and two make four. My head hurt. I sat up and opened my eyes. Fog all around, thick and close and still.

I could see trees in the few yards of dirt road. My watch was gone and my wallet. Roled, slugged and rolled and dumped. But where? I scrambled to my feet and I stood there and the ditch suddenly worried about the time.

It would be bad to be late going aboard. As for the ship sailing without me I stepped on to the road Which way led back to Calle? Someone was coming hello Achila Why don't you answer I can't see oh Down the road and across the field alongside a brook. I ran till I thought my lungs would burst I

Stopped to listen, but the blood was pounding. So I couldn't be sure I wasn't followed I ran some more. The brook went under a small bridge. On it, leaning against the stone wall, looking down at me, was a girl with a knapsack on her back.

I climbed up the bank. Mad Mazzell. Seval play. Mad Mazzell. I'm sorry, I don't speak French. Did you hear those shots? Shots? A few minutes ago, right past my ear, almost blew my head off.