I might have known my friend Sandman at 18 years of age but the person at 28 was a sick twisted animal. The report gave me all the answers I was looki...ng for and I thanked God that I wasn't the target of his rage.I was sure Peterson Sr. had read this report and must have had a good old fashioned belly laugh, he must have felt like a kid at Christmas watching the Bates clan and knowing an anvil was about to be dropped on them.My guess is Peterson Sr. wasn't real happy about the scandal that would. . my word ... you'd have thought they were in Iran.It's getting so a half way decent author can't make a little goof before his characters jump on his ass and pound him into the ground. Just who do these guys think they are ... real people?And Kurt grinned and said, "yes. We are real people. You remember us better than we remember ourselves. So, get it right! What kind of friend are you, anyway?"'OMG, ' thought the author. 'Now what do I do? My characters are out of control. My Muse done flew. We forgot dinner and the drinks were really hitting me hard on an empty stomach. By 8:30, I was beginning to slur my words so Ben decided that I needed to sober up. Rather than let me stay in the bar, he helped me up and we went up to his room where he called for a pot of coffee from room service. I collapsed gratefully onto the king sized bed and let my eyes drift closed.Ben gently shook me awake to take some coffee. He made me drink some of the hot liquid and the caffeine began to take. That was a serviceable name.“I’m not sure the hospital should be discharging her,” my father said. The stereotype was that the Jewish mother was the one that was overly concerned and protective could be wrong. “She was in that gas attack. They should run some more tests.”“I am fine, Father,” I said. I tried to keep the irritation out of my voice. “I even have a date tonight.”“Yes, with ... Justin...” my father said, his voice thick with disdain.My mother shook her head. “Relax, it’s good that.