Out of Control

I am done with it. A star of out of control. A suspense play produced, edited and directed by William Spier. Gatlinburg, around 10 in the morning. I checked in at a hotel called the mountain inn, went downstairs to breakfast.

My dog, Shnucky, went with me as she always does. I gave my order to the waiter, and as I sat there I looked the place over. It was a good sized room by the echo in it.

There was a log fire crackling in a fireplace on the far side of the room. room, and the large view window on my right, glass, has a special kind of echo. There was only one person in the room when I entered it was a woman, apparently a wealthy and rather vain woman judging from her perfume. She was sitting at a table diagonally across to me.

I looked in her direction, so to speak. I heard a man's footsteps approaching across the room and smelled fresh polish on riding boots as he went past me. He paused before a table well if it isn't this is gonna spill more hello Marcia well to cream you surprised to see me what do you want I hear your husband is thinking of running

for governor so what well Marcia I've got a newspaper clipping here I thought it might interest him it's about your pal the late Eddie Hassan what about Eddie I'll read you the headline. Eddie Hasen killed an autocrash. Colorful Reno figure plunges from Mountain Road. Car out of control. Say police. I didn't mean to eat

that. I never mean to. But as some people can read what's on the marquee of a movie theater, ten blocks away, the most intimate conduct and conversation comes to me from across the room as it's spoken into a microphone. This is a dubious pleasure for me at most times, but as Marcia Fillmore and Walter Crane continued, my interest became